If you hadn't already guessed, I'm a bit of a crime fiction buff. I read crime books, I watch crime programmes on the tele (the Alibi channel is nearly always taping or skyplussing or whatever it's called these days) I don't actually commit any crimes myself though. Okay so maybe I sometimes creep above 30mph when it's safe to do so, but I'm not an axe murderer, my cordless drill is bloodless and I don't bury people alive.
So why am I so interested in it? Why do I try to write it myself? Is it just the formula of suspense where little clues are given that mean you yourself are detecting it while watching/reading?
One thing I have noticed whether it be book or television, is the good guys nearly always win. And that usually means the cops win.
I recently read an Ian Rankin book where Rebus didn't win. I won't say the title as I've just told you the ending, but it struck me as different and has stuck with me. Okay so as a reader you feel a tad let down. Three hundred odd pages read for the suspect, the obviously guilty suspect, to get away with it. Basically, the hero fails. The villain has a sort of role reversal to become a villainous hero.
It's probably not that uncommon. I can remember a classic episode of the Sweeney from my youth that ended with the two cops arriving at Heathrow just a plane was jetting off to some country in the days before extradition. What about The Italian Job, the villains were the heroes, but were left dangling in defeat at the end. Other, more recent programmes do it too. They usually chuck in a failed investigation mid series though, just to show that sometimes not all crimes are solved. New Tricks had a long running storyline where the bad guy kept winning. Except, they got him eventually.
For all I know Rebus might get his man in a later book, but that's just speculation.
I'm not really sure what the point is of all this (just for a change) I guess it's that the viewing or reading public want the crime to be solved and the good guys to win. In reality it just makes it crime by numbers. You know when you turn on Midsummer Murders they're going to catch the baddy in the last ten minutes. Yet, I still watch it.
It'd take a brave, inexperienced and unpublished writer to let the baddy win. They'd have to be much braver than me.
Thursday, 6 January 2011
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
New Year and all that
Christmas is over. I guess you already knew that. That little spark of a smile and goodwill that emerged briefly in my stubborn, middle-aged and bad-tempered mind has disappeared and probably won't be seen for ten and a half months again.
Thank god.
Seriously though, I know Roy Wood's done well out of the concept but if it really was Christmas everyday how bad would that get? I'd end up overdosing on cheese and chocolate within a month, kids would emerge uneducated, obese and spoilt and Chitty Chitty Fucking Bang Bang would be on every other week. No, bad idea, Roy. Bad idea.
So to the highlights of last year.
I finished writing my first ever book, Spies Lies and Pies. Despite trying for twenty years, I finally finished it. Agents and publishers didn't like it, but what do they know? I also wrote my second book, Too big To Fail, which is now locked in limbo, waiting to be rejected for the Terry Pratchett/Transworld competition.
On a brighter note, I had a few short stories accepted Need more blood being one of them. Detective Inspector Britwell's first outing, Pleading and Bleeding will be published in Out of the Gutter magazine and just before New Years I found out one of my short stories will be in an anthology in the summer. So not all bad. In fact, quite good.
This year I'll hopefully finish the partly written un-named failed assassin book and submit both that and Too Big To Fail to some agents. I also got another idea over Christmas. A brand new story starring DI Britwell, this one has enough plot to be a full length book. I'm tempted to start writing this first, but poor old Jim, the failed assassin, has waited too long already to be written, so he definitely comes next.
Finally, 282 people from 14 countries visited this little blog over the last year (most of them undoubtedly by mistake). Thanks to all who stopped by, especially the ones from Ecuador, Croatia and the United Arab Emirates. The most searched term that led to this blog was, surprisingly, "children swimming in pits filled with brine".
So anyway, happy new year y'all.
Thank god.
Seriously though, I know Roy Wood's done well out of the concept but if it really was Christmas everyday how bad would that get? I'd end up overdosing on cheese and chocolate within a month, kids would emerge uneducated, obese and spoilt and Chitty Chitty Fucking Bang Bang would be on every other week. No, bad idea, Roy. Bad idea.
So to the highlights of last year.
I finished writing my first ever book, Spies Lies and Pies. Despite trying for twenty years, I finally finished it. Agents and publishers didn't like it, but what do they know? I also wrote my second book, Too big To Fail, which is now locked in limbo, waiting to be rejected for the Terry Pratchett/Transworld competition.
On a brighter note, I had a few short stories accepted Need more blood being one of them. Detective Inspector Britwell's first outing, Pleading and Bleeding will be published in Out of the Gutter magazine and just before New Years I found out one of my short stories will be in an anthology in the summer. So not all bad. In fact, quite good.
This year I'll hopefully finish the partly written un-named failed assassin book and submit both that and Too Big To Fail to some agents. I also got another idea over Christmas. A brand new story starring DI Britwell, this one has enough plot to be a full length book. I'm tempted to start writing this first, but poor old Jim, the failed assassin, has waited too long already to be written, so he definitely comes next.
Finally, 282 people from 14 countries visited this little blog over the last year (most of them undoubtedly by mistake). Thanks to all who stopped by, especially the ones from Ecuador, Croatia and the United Arab Emirates. The most searched term that led to this blog was, surprisingly, "children swimming in pits filled with brine".
So anyway, happy new year y'all.
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Christmas and all that
As Vic and Bob once said, Christmas time. Mistletoe and wine. Children swimming in pits filled with brine.
Yep it's nearly here and the grumpy old gits amongst us are just starting to turn from Bah Humbug to Ah Xbox. I suppose Christmas is not all that bad is it? A week off work, see relatives you haven't seen all year, get a couple of presents. Yeah it's alright I suppose.
This year's been a bit topsy turvy up and down for me. I've had four short stories accepted, one of them from a magazine. Written one and half new books and 21 short stories, a few of which weren't bad. Next year I'll hopefully finish the assassin book and start work on the one after that, probably a police detective one or maybe a PI. I may even re-write Spies, Lies and Pies again.
So, merry christmas one and all. Thanks for reading my little musings and as it's christmas, here's a little story I wrote in March or April. (apologies in advance for the swearing)
Bored Meeting
“So then,” said Jeff, “are we all buying into this?”
“Ahuh,” Sally replied, “I think it’s important we stay ahead of the curve.”
“Oh yes,” agreed both Jen and Sara. Sally scribbled a shorthand note in her filo-fax.
“The worry, for me,” Calumn piped in, “is that we’re not evolving vertical relations with our end users.”
“Oh ya,” agreed Jen enthusiastically.
“Maybe we could commission a focus group to explore this avenue?” Sara timidly asked.
“Good call Sara,” said Jeff with a smile.
The others nodded in agreement.
Jeff’s mobile rang. “Guys I’m so sorry, I just have to take this call.” Answering with the words, “Marcus, hi”, he walked from the room.
A brief silence gripped them.
Calumn was the first to speak. “While Jeff’s out, I’ll take the opportunity to pop to the little boy’s room.” He left the room smiling.
Once Jen was sure he was out of earshot, she spoke, “Worra bunch of fuckin tossers, did you hear them?”
“Evolving vertical relations, what a twat,” said Sara.
“Did you hear me, I got in a ‘commission a focus group’ that’s ten points ain’t it Sal?”
“Yep, well done. Scores on the doors so far, girls. Sara twenty five, Jen ten, me five. Piss poor show by me really, but can’t get a fuckin word in edgeways with that twat mincing on about buying into this and raising the stakes on that. I’ll raise his fuckin stakes, the lanky streak of piss.”
Sara giggled, “Shush they’ll hear.”
“Fuckin let the bastards,” said Jen, scratching her arse. “It never used to be like this. We used to talk properly about stuff and things. It’s all these fucking courses and seminars they keep sending the twats on.”
After waiting for Jen to finish, Sally continued. “Right, well we’ve still got leverage, blue sky moment, 360 degrees thinking and, would you believe it, we’ve not had maximising the incentives for stakeholders yet.”
“I tried to fit in it earlier, but it’s a hard one to get in,” said Jen.
“Yeah, not really relevant today is it?” agreed Sara.
“Is any of this relevant though?” asked Sally.
They all sighed.
Calumn knocked before re-entering. Sitting down he said, “Guys I just had a blue sky moment on how to maximise the incentives for stakeholders.”
Sara and Jen looked at Sally. They all mouthed the word shit.
***
One other little thing. I've come across a website that puts up short funny stories (max 550 words) They've very kindly put up Safety Begins at Home.
Merry xmas and a happy new year y'all.
Yep it's nearly here and the grumpy old gits amongst us are just starting to turn from Bah Humbug to Ah Xbox. I suppose Christmas is not all that bad is it? A week off work, see relatives you haven't seen all year, get a couple of presents. Yeah it's alright I suppose.
This year's been a bit topsy turvy up and down for me. I've had four short stories accepted, one of them from a magazine. Written one and half new books and 21 short stories, a few of which weren't bad. Next year I'll hopefully finish the assassin book and start work on the one after that, probably a police detective one or maybe a PI. I may even re-write Spies, Lies and Pies again.
So, merry christmas one and all. Thanks for reading my little musings and as it's christmas, here's a little story I wrote in March or April. (apologies in advance for the swearing)
Bored Meeting
“So then,” said Jeff, “are we all buying into this?”
“Ahuh,” Sally replied, “I think it’s important we stay ahead of the curve.”
“Oh yes,” agreed both Jen and Sara. Sally scribbled a shorthand note in her filo-fax.
“The worry, for me,” Calumn piped in, “is that we’re not evolving vertical relations with our end users.”
“Oh ya,” agreed Jen enthusiastically.
“Maybe we could commission a focus group to explore this avenue?” Sara timidly asked.
“Good call Sara,” said Jeff with a smile.
The others nodded in agreement.
Jeff’s mobile rang. “Guys I’m so sorry, I just have to take this call.” Answering with the words, “Marcus, hi”, he walked from the room.
A brief silence gripped them.
Calumn was the first to speak. “While Jeff’s out, I’ll take the opportunity to pop to the little boy’s room.” He left the room smiling.
Once Jen was sure he was out of earshot, she spoke, “Worra bunch of fuckin tossers, did you hear them?”
“Evolving vertical relations, what a twat,” said Sara.
“Did you hear me, I got in a ‘commission a focus group’ that’s ten points ain’t it Sal?”
“Yep, well done. Scores on the doors so far, girls. Sara twenty five, Jen ten, me five. Piss poor show by me really, but can’t get a fuckin word in edgeways with that twat mincing on about buying into this and raising the stakes on that. I’ll raise his fuckin stakes, the lanky streak of piss.”
Sara giggled, “Shush they’ll hear.”
“Fuckin let the bastards,” said Jen, scratching her arse. “It never used to be like this. We used to talk properly about stuff and things. It’s all these fucking courses and seminars they keep sending the twats on.”
After waiting for Jen to finish, Sally continued. “Right, well we’ve still got leverage, blue sky moment, 360 degrees thinking and, would you believe it, we’ve not had maximising the incentives for stakeholders yet.”
“I tried to fit in it earlier, but it’s a hard one to get in,” said Jen.
“Yeah, not really relevant today is it?” agreed Sara.
“Is any of this relevant though?” asked Sally.
They all sighed.
Calumn knocked before re-entering. Sitting down he said, “Guys I just had a blue sky moment on how to maximise the incentives for stakeholders.”
Sara and Jen looked at Sally. They all mouthed the word shit.
***
One other little thing. I've come across a website that puts up short funny stories (max 550 words) They've very kindly put up Safety Begins at Home.
Merry xmas and a happy new year y'all.
Thursday, 9 December 2010
Snow Ideas
So I got stuck driving home just over a week ago. A foot of snow fell in an hour. I'm not going to go into a big rant about how the council never do anything and it's a bloody disgrace and all that. All it really did was make me miss my tea, get a bit wound up and make me lose my routine.
The routine in question is the one that was producing nearly two thousand words a day. I've not written a sausage now in just over a week. I have done a bit of editing on Too Big To Fail, and it's about ready to be sent. But it's the writing and ideas that have gone.
I had always thought I'd have december off from the next book, but I imagined I'd write a couple of short stories at the very least. But nothing's coming out. Makes me wonder just how much of this is getting in the right routine.
Talking of short stories, those kind people at Powder Burn Flash have accepted the story I rewrote into First Person a few weeks back. Not sure when it's going to be up, but I'll let you know when I know.
I'm going to force myself to write a short story. Looking at an old word file, there's a couple of ideas in there, namely: A cordless drill, a vengeful wife and three people at a bus stop. Sounds a bit like a game of cluedo doesn't it.
The routine in question is the one that was producing nearly two thousand words a day. I've not written a sausage now in just over a week. I have done a bit of editing on Too Big To Fail, and it's about ready to be sent. But it's the writing and ideas that have gone.
I had always thought I'd have december off from the next book, but I imagined I'd write a couple of short stories at the very least. But nothing's coming out. Makes me wonder just how much of this is getting in the right routine.
Talking of short stories, those kind people at Powder Burn Flash have accepted the story I rewrote into First Person a few weeks back. Not sure when it's going to be up, but I'll let you know when I know.
I'm going to force myself to write a short story. Looking at an old word file, there's a couple of ideas in there, namely: A cordless drill, a vengeful wife and three people at a bus stop. Sounds a bit like a game of cluedo doesn't it.
Thursday, 25 November 2010
First versus Third part two
I tried rewriting the first part of the new book (needs a name) in first person, but to me it's missing something. You can judge for yourself beneath, both the starts are there. I think what it's missing is what some people call voice.
You see, the main character Jim was written in third person so he's never really had his own voice or way of talking. It's always been the storyteller telling his life and the mess he's made of his first hit and the subsequent dash for cash to repay the money he was advanced. Trying to suddenly rewrite it in his style doesn't feel right. I'm kind of drawn into using my stock first person style, but I know it's not right for him.
The other way it probably won't work is later on when someone else becomes involved heavily in the story. I suppose it could work in first person, but it would get messy and there is certain things the reader should know before Jim does.
Anyway, here's the start in third
Muscles Jim never knew he had continued to twist his stomach.
Looking again at the clock, it still showed half six. Thirty one minutes to go. He pushed the second button again, convinced for the third time it had stopped. He kept telling himself digital clocks don’t just stop. If they break, the display doesn’t work, it doesn’t just freeze. But, he had to check again.
He knew it shouldn’t be like this. He should be looking forward to the first day of his new job. It definitely shouldn’t have made him physically sick with fear. After all, it’s the chance to meet new people, the start of an adventure. Maybe that was the problem with contract killing; the only new people you met, you killed.
The clock that was definitely working showed thirty minutes until crunch time. Everything had been prepared and checked many times yesterday and last night. As he sat on the corner of the bed, Jim knew all he could do was wait. Waiting would give him plenty of time to think what he was about to do. What he was about to become.
and the start in first
They told me to expect this, but it doesn’t make it easier. Sat here in this murky hotel room, my brain’s cranky from last night. I got to sleep about three, maybe four. Sun starts rising early here, not that the day ever really ends in a city. The bustle’s all night. Busy, busy people. Busy important, or self important, people.
It’s half six now, thirty minutes till crunch time and my stomach’s twisting itself up in some sailor’s knot that my bowels are trying to undo. Suppose physical sickness’s just another part of the job. First day of a job shouldn’t be like that. Should be the start something new, the chance to meet new people, that’s what they say ain’t it? Guess that’s the problem with contract killing. Only new people you meet, you kill.
I’d got all my gear together last night, too. Should have left that for this morning. Could have been a job to eat up the time. As it is I got nothing to do now but wait. Wait for the clock to strike seven. Then, I go for a walk.
Anyway so that's it. It's going to be third person.
I've finished editing Too Big To Fail, though the start needs another look at. I'm also re-writing a short story I found hidden away from last year from third to first, which definitely does work.
You see, the main character Jim was written in third person so he's never really had his own voice or way of talking. It's always been the storyteller telling his life and the mess he's made of his first hit and the subsequent dash for cash to repay the money he was advanced. Trying to suddenly rewrite it in his style doesn't feel right. I'm kind of drawn into using my stock first person style, but I know it's not right for him.
The other way it probably won't work is later on when someone else becomes involved heavily in the story. I suppose it could work in first person, but it would get messy and there is certain things the reader should know before Jim does.
Anyway, here's the start in third
Muscles Jim never knew he had continued to twist his stomach.
Looking again at the clock, it still showed half six. Thirty one minutes to go. He pushed the second button again, convinced for the third time it had stopped. He kept telling himself digital clocks don’t just stop. If they break, the display doesn’t work, it doesn’t just freeze. But, he had to check again.
He knew it shouldn’t be like this. He should be looking forward to the first day of his new job. It definitely shouldn’t have made him physically sick with fear. After all, it’s the chance to meet new people, the start of an adventure. Maybe that was the problem with contract killing; the only new people you met, you killed.
The clock that was definitely working showed thirty minutes until crunch time. Everything had been prepared and checked many times yesterday and last night. As he sat on the corner of the bed, Jim knew all he could do was wait. Waiting would give him plenty of time to think what he was about to do. What he was about to become.
and the start in first
They told me to expect this, but it doesn’t make it easier. Sat here in this murky hotel room, my brain’s cranky from last night. I got to sleep about three, maybe four. Sun starts rising early here, not that the day ever really ends in a city. The bustle’s all night. Busy, busy people. Busy important, or self important, people.
It’s half six now, thirty minutes till crunch time and my stomach’s twisting itself up in some sailor’s knot that my bowels are trying to undo. Suppose physical sickness’s just another part of the job. First day of a job shouldn’t be like that. Should be the start something new, the chance to meet new people, that’s what they say ain’t it? Guess that’s the problem with contract killing. Only new people you meet, you kill.
I’d got all my gear together last night, too. Should have left that for this morning. Could have been a job to eat up the time. As it is I got nothing to do now but wait. Wait for the clock to strike seven. Then, I go for a walk.
Anyway so that's it. It's going to be third person.
I've finished editing Too Big To Fail, though the start needs another look at. I'm also re-writing a short story I found hidden away from last year from third to first, which definitely does work.
Friday, 19 November 2010
First or third?
Person that is. Forget second, to me it just reads like one of those old Fighting Fantasy books, not that there was anything wrong with them back in the day. But, what makes you decide whether to write in first or third?
I've always been a third person kind of guy. One of my earliest short stories was first, a meeting of two young people, written from the view of both of them, one after the other. Obviously, it involved pies as everything from that era seemed to. But apart form that, everything's been third person since. Until recently.
I suppose my interpretation of writing comedy chose that way. Most of the jokes come from the narrator who keeps butting in. Some people scream, you can't do that, but it never hurt Douglas Adams (not that I can compare myself in anyway to him.)
Recently though, about march I guess, I started a little story about a Private Detective. It was hard work writing it in third person, like most PI's most of the action goes on in his messed up head. I gave up on it, but it keeps coming back to me, a little voice in my mind saying, 'write me, write me.'
My fairly recent discovery of the masses of excellent first person crime stuff out there made me have a go myself. Got to admit, I love it. Written about six little stories now, some work some don't
So is it horses for courses? Does the story dictate whether it's first or third. Or, is it the genre? Or even the main character? How messed up and complex does the character need to be before it needs writing in first?
Now that I've finished writing Too big to fail. I'm at a loss. For the past three months I've written a few thousand words each day, and just stopping dead is leaving a big hole. A couple of short stories have been written, but I'm looking more towards the next book.
The failed-newbie-contract-killer-come-wideboy-grifter book was started back in the summer. I got to about 35,000 words then put it on hold. I'm starting to wonder now if it would be better in first instead of third?
It seems a waste to dump nearly half a book and start again from scratch. But, then again, first person let's you get closer to his head, his thoughts without having to use those annoying He thought tags or italics all the time. Third person though, lets the reader see things the character doesn't. You can give little hints to the reader the character's unaware of.
Dunno is the answer. Maybe I'll re-write the start of it in first person and compare them?
I've always been a third person kind of guy. One of my earliest short stories was first, a meeting of two young people, written from the view of both of them, one after the other. Obviously, it involved pies as everything from that era seemed to. But apart form that, everything's been third person since. Until recently.
I suppose my interpretation of writing comedy chose that way. Most of the jokes come from the narrator who keeps butting in. Some people scream, you can't do that, but it never hurt Douglas Adams (not that I can compare myself in anyway to him.)
Recently though, about march I guess, I started a little story about a Private Detective. It was hard work writing it in third person, like most PI's most of the action goes on in his messed up head. I gave up on it, but it keeps coming back to me, a little voice in my mind saying, 'write me, write me.'
My fairly recent discovery of the masses of excellent first person crime stuff out there made me have a go myself. Got to admit, I love it. Written about six little stories now, some work some don't
So is it horses for courses? Does the story dictate whether it's first or third. Or, is it the genre? Or even the main character? How messed up and complex does the character need to be before it needs writing in first?
Now that I've finished writing Too big to fail. I'm at a loss. For the past three months I've written a few thousand words each day, and just stopping dead is leaving a big hole. A couple of short stories have been written, but I'm looking more towards the next book.
The failed-newbie-contract-killer-come-wideboy-grifter book was started back in the summer. I got to about 35,000 words then put it on hold. I'm starting to wonder now if it would be better in first instead of third?
It seems a waste to dump nearly half a book and start again from scratch. But, then again, first person let's you get closer to his head, his thoughts without having to use those annoying He thought tags or italics all the time. Third person though, lets the reader see things the character doesn't. You can give little hints to the reader the character's unaware of.
Dunno is the answer. Maybe I'll re-write the start of it in first person and compare them?
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
Is it worth it?
A new winter coat and shoes for the wife.
I'll stop there. Robert Wyatt or Elvis Costello I am not. I read a post yesterday that didn't so much as depress me, but made me wonder if the direction I and no doubt others are taking is right.
The post in question was discussing the current state of publishing. It said that publishers (i.e. mainstream publishers) are currently only really interested in books they know will sell over 50,000 copies. That certainly would explain the lack of new writers the big publishers are publishing. I don't know if this link will work properly or not, but of the 538 best new sellers on amazon, only 1 is humour. And of the crime thrillers I bet none of their hardboiled main characters have diabetic pony's, dual personalities or fixations with smoked herring.
What genres would sell so many for a new author? Mainstream thrillers (anything to do with Terrorism or Afghanistan seems popular at the moment), ripoffs of proven subject matter (I'm thinking all those Da Vinci style books), chick-lit (no chance) and whatever they reckon will be in fashion next year.
So, do you play the game to get known? Or write what you want in the hope they'll change their policy and open the floodgates soon? Am I being ignorant in thinking that my non-specific genre comedy spy thriller or failed contract killer turned wide boy books are going to make a publisher say, scrap everything else, we were wrong, this will sell millions. It's very unlikely, isn't it?
The other options are smaller publishers. Little or no advertising budgets will unfortunately in this world mean little sales. The print runs won't be big enough for them to discount heavily or supply The Works and other cheap sellers at 3 for a fiver prices. The final option, Self Publishing. Not really much you can say about that is there. At one time I was all for it, but someone talked me out of it. Again, it's the advertising budget and inability to price low that makes this not really an option.
I guess it's all about building a following, isn't it? Without something substantial to read, your following won't get large enough for a big publisher to publish. The smaller publisher route could help build that following over a series of books.
Either that, or play the game. Write want they're looking for. Or, just sell it yourself and make a few quid.
Anyway, cheer up, here's a picture of a haggis, neeps and tatty pie.
I'll stop there. Robert Wyatt or Elvis Costello I am not. I read a post yesterday that didn't so much as depress me, but made me wonder if the direction I and no doubt others are taking is right.
The post in question was discussing the current state of publishing. It said that publishers (i.e. mainstream publishers) are currently only really interested in books they know will sell over 50,000 copies. That certainly would explain the lack of new writers the big publishers are publishing. I don't know if this link will work properly or not, but of the 538 best new sellers on amazon, only 1 is humour. And of the crime thrillers I bet none of their hardboiled main characters have diabetic pony's, dual personalities or fixations with smoked herring.
What genres would sell so many for a new author? Mainstream thrillers (anything to do with Terrorism or Afghanistan seems popular at the moment), ripoffs of proven subject matter (I'm thinking all those Da Vinci style books), chick-lit (no chance) and whatever they reckon will be in fashion next year.
So, do you play the game to get known? Or write what you want in the hope they'll change their policy and open the floodgates soon? Am I being ignorant in thinking that my non-specific genre comedy spy thriller or failed contract killer turned wide boy books are going to make a publisher say, scrap everything else, we were wrong, this will sell millions. It's very unlikely, isn't it?
The other options are smaller publishers. Little or no advertising budgets will unfortunately in this world mean little sales. The print runs won't be big enough for them to discount heavily or supply The Works and other cheap sellers at 3 for a fiver prices. The final option, Self Publishing. Not really much you can say about that is there. At one time I was all for it, but someone talked me out of it. Again, it's the advertising budget and inability to price low that makes this not really an option.
I guess it's all about building a following, isn't it? Without something substantial to read, your following won't get large enough for a big publisher to publish. The smaller publisher route could help build that following over a series of books.
Either that, or play the game. Write want they're looking for. Or, just sell it yourself and make a few quid.
Anyway, cheer up, here's a picture of a haggis, neeps and tatty pie.
