I went to see J.A Konrath yesterday.
And he pushed a knife through my dream.
J.A Konrath writes mystery novels. He writes them with a tequila flavor and just a twist of lime.
His novels: Whiskey sour, Bloody mary, rusty nail
His Hero(ine) : Jack Daniels (short for jacqueline Daniels)
He talked about his career.
He talked about his struggle.
He talked about the 400 odd rejections that he got.
He talked about the fact that his tenth novel was the first to be published.
He talked about the 6 digit advance that he got for his first contract.
Romantic.
My dream relived.
Then he talked about how he learnt from his mistakes.
He talked about not just caring about what he likes (knife removed from its sheath)
He talked about understanding what sells (It gleams a brilliant steel)
He talked about 'understanding' what the market wants. (It starts cutting at my dream - slicing at the photo on the jacket cover of my published book)
He talked about giving people what they want (The first shreds are on the carpet)
He talked about the 614 book store visits that he made last summer to pitch for himself, for his book (The first shreds are thin - they float)
He talked about the spiel that you need to have ready to promote yourself and your book (The shreds start to bleed)
He talked about the need to earn back your advance through your efforts - otherwise there might never be another book because the industry is cruel and watches (the blood spurts...the dream still breathes..only just)
He talked about the need to appeal to the widest possible audience especially women. So Joe Konrath is J.A Konrath. Suitably ambiguous. (RIP)
He talked about prostitution.
I slash some more. Just to make sure.
Labels: Writing
