Book, Interrupted

I've finally taken that step. The link above this post is proof.

ABSOLUTION'S CURSE is published.

After dreaming up this story idea eight years ago while working one night (what else do you do on third shift?) all the effort is finally over. Plots. Drafts. Edits. All behind me. The pieces have come together to form one solid novel.

I can't begin to tell you how many versions I have stashed away in various folders on my PC. A few weeks ago I found one of the earliest files. I read it and cringed, much like I'll probably do in a few years when I look back at this book.

So all that's left is to upload and watch.

We all know that statement is delusional on so many fronts.

First, the upload part. I've used this experience to invent a few new worty-dirds that I'd prefer not to type here. Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords have done amazing things to allow non-professional publishers to put their personal works of art into the public domain. Yet, each one had their own issues. Multiple times over the past week I've leaned back in my chair and relaxed, certain the job is done, only to find a few minor and occasionally major flaws. I imagine some format reviewer at Amazon is laughing each time they see my file return for another try.

Second, the work has only just begun (why did Karen Carpenter's angelic voice just echo through my brain?). I'm not very good at promotional stuff. I'm trying to learn twitter but still feel like an alien monitoring foreign communications. This blog has been fun to write but I still wonder what I'm supposed to say and where that line between interesting and disturbed lies. I've read writers doing guest blogs and received tweets from websites proclaiming they can boost sales figures. I'm still trying to figure out where I fit.

Third, the journey gives that strange drive to keep going. I play softball every weekend because of a push from inside even though I know my knees will bark at me for days. That same unstoppable, insatiable thrust has arrived in the form of a keyboard and blank page. I know the commitment required, the pain from rejection, the doubt, the overwhelming fear that all this is for nothing and it would be better for all if I just pulled away from the writing desk forever.

Yet, that voice keeps whispering. That tiny cry from somewhere undefinable won't let me stop.

My idea, born from a simple desire keep my mind busy during long dark drives into work, is published.

Now the real job begins.


C.L. Blanton

Stranger Than Non-Fiction

I haven't gotten much writing or publishing stuff done this week. Got a wild hair on Monday to reconfigure my home office. Spent the last few days trying to reorganize the chaos and remember which cords belong to which plugs. Posting of this blog indicates that I'm (almost) done and back to normal.

With my workspace back in order, I'll spend this weekend getting my novel, Absolution's Curse [ALERT-ALERT, SHAMELESS PLUG, ALERT-ALERT], published to the world. I can assure you I'll be dedicating future blogs and tweets to promoting but I decided to have this week's post trend toward another positive sentiment.

We all have the "Why do I write" story.

Wait. Don't roll your eyes and click away yet.

I'm not going to go into sappy stories about high school English teachers (sorry Mrs. Atwell and Mrs. Larson) or discuss epiphany moments where the clouds parted and my story came to me from on high.

It's about sticking your neck out to a place where you're not comfortable. It's about taking a chance you normally wouldn't just to say you tried, just to push yourself further than you thought possible.

In high school (wait, I promise it's not about English class) I was constantly the last guy picked in PE for any sport. Most of the time a few of the girls were picked before me. I didn't get too offended, they were athletic girls. Despite my lack of abilities, I tried out for the school baseball team. To my surprise I made it past all cuts. My junior year we won the State Championship with me mostly on the bench. My senior year I started at second base and set a school record for most errors in a season (I'm very proud).

But I always wanted to pitch. I spent entire summers in my backyard throwing against a wall with a strike zone outlined in bright red paint. I graduated without throwing a single pitch in a real game.

A year later I found an announcement in the sports section of our newspaper for tryouts with a semi-pro team. Before I lost my nerve I gave the number a call. The coach asked what position I played and, without hesitation, I responded with pitcher.

Holy crap, what have I done? I've never pitched to a real batter in a real game. I'm an impostor, a fake.

I went to tryouts despite the voices in my head yelling at me to stay home. Each day I avoided Coach at the end of practice so he couldn't cut me or ask why I was still there. At the end of the week he took us to the side and gave all of us our contracts to sign and uniforms. In a few short years I went from last kid chosen to a true semi-pro ballplayer. I pitched two years before injuring my knee.

I've looked at writing with the same eye. I usually fell like an impostor, a fake. I wonder why I'm here. In school, my writing assignments barely passed (oops, I did reference English class). Now I'm trying to enter the semi-pro league of writing by self publishing.

As I prepare to upload my novel I hear John Fogerty singing "Put me in Coach, I'm ready to play."

To all: Keep writing. Keep dreaming. Keep putting yourself into uncomfortable positions. You never know when you'll strikeout or when you'll connect.


C.L. Blanton

(Okay, you can click away now.)

Anatomy of An Errant Reference

Confession time.

When I wrote out my last blog I thought I had a great line. After the "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" mention, I would include a nod to my home state of North Carolina by adding, "Cue the skydiving Andy Griffith's."

I loved the line. A funny reference: Vegas/Skydiving Elvis, Carolina/Skydiving Andy. With five words it compared two beloved icons from separate ends of the entertainment spectrum. A wonderful juxtaposition.

Only one problem.

The skydiving Elvis's are from a different movie, "Honeymoon in Vegas". Right city, wrong movie reference.

So, unless I changed the entire beginning of the blog or somehow alluded to Nicolas Cage, that line had to go.

That's a hard writing lesson to learn. When do you fight for your beloved line and when do you step away? When do you bend over backward, change setups, or rearrange timelines, just to include that clever idea?

Sometimes the decisions are easy (like when IMDB confirms you stink at movie references) but sometimes you stare at the computer screen for an eternity with a finger hovering over the delete button.

I've had to learn to trust my instincts. Be true to the story. Avoid forcing what I think is a great idea into a bad situation. Maybe the perfect setup waits within another chapter or the next novel. Don't be afraid to copy/paste that potentially prize winning line into a document solely dedicated to discarded ideas.

Treat them like refugees from the Island of Misfit Toys in that great Christmas TV special, "Frosty the Snowman" (or was it "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"? Crap, did I do it again?)


C.L. Blanton

Fear and Writing in North Carolina

Granted, that title is not as powerful as "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" but this is a free blog and ya get what ya pay for.

I was asked recently to explain My Umbrella Project. I must admit, I stared at my keyboard for a while and answered with what probably sounded like a weak, veiled attempt at the truth. I found that while I had an overall idea of what I wanted it to mean, it was hard to put into words, especially in 140 characters or less.

First I'd like to say what it's not.
Is it a charity?  No.
Is it an endeavor to create a better world?  No.
One day, in a wonderful universe where my little novel breaks into a best seller list, I would love to have it morph into something worthwhile to more than just myself, but that's a dream.

So what is My Umbrella Project?
That's where the Fear and Writing part kicks in. I'll leave the details of how the name was created to my first post but basically it acts as an irreverent motivation.

I've been writing for years but only a small handful of family outside my house had any idea about my hobby. This step, to open the doors and expose myself to the world, has turned out to be every bit as daunting as I expected. I try to use humor to dispel the anxiety but I'm forever worrying about what I've done or what I should do next.

To those who have pushed through this wall, who greet the physical and online worlds with poise and gusto, I sincerely applaud you.

To anyone else who struggles with self-confidence, who has a voice but isn't sure they have the strength to share it; I float down that same river, consistently wondering if my oar is good enough to dip into the rushing water.

I call this a project (both the CLBlantonProject and My Umbrella Project) because it's a work in process to develop a writer. I've closed both eyes and jumped into the water. I'll float or sink, but either way I pushed myself out of the relative comfort of the boat.

The overall theme of this blog is still developing but I hope to share the ups and downs of this journey. I'll be as honest with you as possible. Maybe this project will act only as my therapist. Maybe it can encourage others. There are no other grand agendas than to step timidly into the world and live.

C.L. Blanton


On a very personal note, RIP Sue. I wish we had worked together longer.
May your body become whole again and your soul always reside in the Keys.
Keep throwing cherry tomatoes at me from heaven, maybe one day you won't miss.

Absolution's Curse

Okay, time to start getting serious about this book thing. My goal for the last month has been to learn about social media by playing with this blog and my brand spanking new twitter account. So far I'd consider this a success (as long as success is defined as no lawsuits, overly harsh replies, or mass exodus of those uninformed enough to follow me).

I also have no idea if anyone is actually reading my posts/tweets, but that's beside the point.

Today I'd like to share what Absolution's Curse is about and why this story has pushed me into the world of writing.

The Setting

St. Louis of 1849 was in the eye of a slowly building storm fueled by a multiple year cholera epidemic and an expanding population of fortune seekers. It only took one spark in the middle of the night to light a tragedy.

The city of St. Louis was originally intended to serve as background noise while the main story played out. If that's the case then why would I lead this post with something as unimportant as the location?

Research into events of the time uncovered incredible tales of danger, loss, and bravery. The story I started with blind understanding wrapped itself around these events, drawing in meaning and purpose where I never expected.

St. Louis became more than a location, it's as central a character as any real or fictional person passing through the pages. It's my hope and prayer that this story honors those heroes who gave their lives in defense of this city.

The Main Character

Decades of scams litter Frank's past, but an impromptu return home brings a chance to start an honest life, setting into motion an adventure with stakes no ex-riverboat gambler should accept.

The son of a con man, Frank follows his late father's footsteps, ignoring childhood instructions to lead an honorable life. Time has finally arrived to put old debts to rest, but when the bodies of those he pledged to protect lay at his feet and a mysterious Indian elder uses his final breath to pass on an ancient burden, all hope for honor is ruined.

Images from the past haunt his dreams and an odd blue light, the portal to a strange land, follows his journey. Time passes but his reflection in the mirror doesn't change. Only a clean soul can end the curse but absolution is hard to find when best intentions continue to leave blood on his hands. Frank is faced with the prospect of carrying his sins into a new century, unaged and unforgiven.

The Meaning

God's forgiveness is there for the asking, but finding the strength to forgive yourself can take a lifetime.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my story. Feel free to post a comment so I'll know you made it all the way through (a sign of success for both of us).

C.L. Blanton