Category Archives: Path to Publication

Laputa, Lilliput and Eternal

Newsflashes, while efficient, are so sterile. Let me tell you a story instead, clarity be damned.

The first ever Real Adult Book I read was Asimov’s Fantastic Voyage II. It was a massive thing to my twelve-year-old eyes, a gargantuan undertaking that took all summer to get through. My very first Sci-fi doorstopper.


A cover I could never forget.

I fell in love early on. Albert Morrison was my scientist avatar, awkward, love-starved, a bit desperate. Natalya Boranova a compelling and stable companion, the one I rooted for as love interest. Sophia Kaliinin a tempting sylph, but quite clearly out of Morrison’s league. And Yuri Whatsisname an apt, ultimately too-powerful rival. There was another guy in there, the pilot or whatnot, but apparently I didn’t care that much for him because I can’t remember his name. I can’t explain to you right now how proud I am of remembering those names, by the way.

The Science-fiction and plot points were awesome too, but they kind of took a back-seat to the relationships in there. I’ve always been a very character-focused type of reader, or I guess media-consumer. Be it novel, TV show or CRPG, it’s the character interactions that really do it for me.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that Fantastic Voyage II opened my eyes to what books could really do for you. It was my first obsession in written form, and I’d re-read it at least five times in the course of my teenage years—whenever I couldn’t remember the name of one of the cast. That poor paperback was lovingly beaten and downtrodden by the time I was done with it.

Some time after that first read, my brother picked up from the library the first volume of Chronicles of the Dragonlance. I remember being greatly intrigued by its cover, Tanis and Goldmoon and Sturm all posing in front of a forest or a meadow or something like that, super badass and attractive. It was another massive book, too—to my eyes, at least.

I wouldn’t have dared open it up if it weren’t for my Fantastic Voyage II venture, but I was a seasoned doorstopper reader by then, you see. What would have been daunting before was only a mild challenge now. And so I started reading it. And so my true teenage obsession began.

Return of the Dragons. Better title, if you ask me.

Return of the Dragons. Better title, if you ask me.

The Dragonlance series, flawed and cliché and hit-you-over-the-head pro-Christian as they might appear to a more adult or experienced readership, was my Lord of the Rings, my Star Wars, my Star Trek. I had no idea what a fantasy trope was at the time, so everything was just fresh and mind-blowing. The religious undertones flew completely under my radar—it was just a fantastic story with Gods and mortals and life lessons and whatnot. The most awesome tale ever told, and I do mean awesome in the biblical sense. I would pay real money to have that sense of wonder again, to be able to relive that discovery. It takes so much more nowadays to buy into things….

I consumed Dragons of Autumn Twilight like it was my first heroin high, then felt sad when it was over, then overjoyed when my brother said that this was, in fact, the first volume of a trilogy. Oh, how I buggered him to find the next installment, which he did, and the third installment, which he didn’t. They didn’t have at the library, you understand.

So I had to go hunting. This was the late nineties, with the internet in its infancy and online ordering nothing but a distant chimera (It still kinda is, in Spain.) So that meant going to a local bookstore.

What do you know, it's still there, right next to college campus.

What do you know, it’s still there, right next to college campus.

Now, you must understand what this means for an awkward, shy, overweight-and-self-conscious-about-it teenage boy. It means tentatively walking into a somewhat secluded, mildly busy place, trying to look like I knew where I was going. It means surreptitiously reading aisle signs in a frantic search for the suitable section. It means working up the inhuman courage to talk to a pretty and helpful staff member because I just couldn’t find what I was looking for.

Truly an epic ordeal for the ages.

Anyway, they didn’t have it in stock. I could’ve tried in half a dozen other stores, but that would have meant repeating this whole process all over again, which was a fate worse than death. They happily offered to order it for me.  “You can do that?” I remember saying. It never occurred to me that you could choose which books the store would get. It was magical.

I bought the book from them a week later. It was the best in the series. I loved every tiny bit. And at the end, there were ads. In stunned silence I leaned that there were more Dragonlance books out there. A LOT more. So I returned to the store.

That bookstore, the name of which I’ve unfortunately forgotten, became my drug dealer. I’d come in with a list of wonderful highs I wanted to try, and a week later they’d have a pile of the stuff waiting for me. I just needed to cough up the cash, which my parents were gracious enough to provide. My mother loved it, was so glad I was spending time away from the ubiquitous videogames. My father would just shake his head in amusement. Not much of a fantasy guy. They still have my giant collection on their shelves, providing a much appreciated and probably well-calculated sting of nostalgia whenever I lay eyes upon them through the webcam.

What the hell am I getting at with all this, you might ask? I have a great fondness for local bookstores, that’s what I’m getting at. They were a strange, mystical, nigh foreboding place that later became a direct gateway to some of the best experiences of my teens, which was getting lost in Krynn and daydreaming about being a badass Red Robe. Wait, is that sad? That’s pretty sad, isn’t it. Just replace “bookstore” with “brothel” and “Krynn” with “titties.” Yeah, much better.

So hopefully this story begins to explain just how special it feels to see this at Gulliver’s Books, the bookstore to which I deliver mail every day:

Among all the other local author stuff. Conspicuously non-Alaskan-themed...

Among all the other local author stuff. Conspicuously non-Alaskan-themed…


Gulliver’s Books is currently stocking Eternal. Hooray!

It’s only relatively recently that I went in there as a customer, which I regret dearly. I grew older, moved away from home, had no transportation of my own for a while so I was swept into the convenience of ordering books online. Shame, shame, everlasting shame.

After going back into an actual building to buy books, it became clear how far I’d strayed. How much magic is lost through the sterile causeways of the internet. There’s something about standing in the middle of wall-to-wall shelves full of books waiting to be discovered, something that simply cannot be described. Countless covers and spines clamoring for your attention or quietly awaiting their turn. Perhaps it’s the density of work-hours condensed into one place: hundreds upon hundreds of hours per linear inch, all neatly stacked and presented as somebody’s best efforts to take you somewhere they thought was worthy of the time.

Have you done it of late? Have you ever done it? Well, now is as good a time as any. And if you live anywhere close to Fairbanks, Alaska… you know where to find my stack of hopeful hours.

Happily frothing,

– Israel

Eternal for Sale

Eternal is released. BEHOLD.


You must enter Eternal. Click to make it really big.

Go right here and use your money to buy it!

It’s out and I feel zen. I’m all too aware of the downsides to self-publishing: more expense, more work, much more legwork marketing-wise, no establishment validation, no support system behind you, and the uphill battle that is Self-published Stigma. I do it myself, you see—I think of self-published books as less than. Probably because, sadly, most of the time I’ll be right to think that way.

So let’s be positive and enthusiastic and talk about the wonderful upsides! There’s plenty, but I’m most fond of two of them:

1) Complete control means no ultra-lame cover and/or formatting.

Most new authors don’t get a say on how the book they wrote will look. Actually, I just pulled that out of my ass, I don’t know if it’s most. But many don’t. Depends on the contract you sign, I guess. Have you seen some of the putrid turds of a cover that some books get? And not just the dime-a-dozen, fire-kindling-worthy garbage you might find in the bargain bin, but really good stuff as well. Need I cite the old Wheel of Time covers? Some editions of Asimov’s best work? The copy of Dune I got in the mail only a week ago? Hell, even the first editions of Patrick Rothfuss’s Name of the Wind were cringe-inducing. I’m not saying the cover I designed is the be-all end-all of fancy book fronts, but at least I can rest assured it won’t be in any “top ten worst covers of all time” lists. Which one would you choose at the book store?

bookcoverAWFULI think I'd pick the Hitler book, actually
I think I’d pick the Hitler book, actually

I also get to put in a bunch of cool art and illustrations in the book itself. I’ve always appreciated stuff like that when reading a novel, and I wanted mine to have them as well. There’s no-one to stop me!

2) No release pressure. (THIS IS THE GREATEST PUN OF ALL TIME.)

“My book didn’t sell well when it came out, so it got un-stocked from most stores and no-one even lists it anymore.”

“My publisher let me go. They didn’t care for the sequel because sales in the first year were poor.”

“Nobody will look at me twice because my debut novel was a flop and I made a bunch of people lose money because of it.”

These words will never haunt my sleep. It’s a different game with self-publishing, a slow and steady game. The release date doesn’t really matter. There’s no “grand opening” event. It will be released, and sales will start trickling in (hopefully.) I’ll be marketing and promoting steadily and somewhat quietly, and with luck and the help of friends and family and good word of mouth, it’ll slowly spread. I have no idea how far, but my expectations are realistically low, as the chances of it spreading like the next bird flu pandemic that will kill us all are lottery-worthy. It’ll be more like the recent Ebola outbreak: relatively small, slow to proliferate, but boy will it be virulent and hard to eradicate. Yes, Eternal shall take hold of some people out there and consume them until there is only a feverish husk left, and all who come in contact with them will become irrevocably infected.

Hm. This metaphor kind of ran away from me.

All this positivity is exhausting! I must now retire, it’s just too much. At least my quota for the year is covered; I can go back to being a cynical piece of garbage with nothing good to say about anything. Cheers!

Turds, turds everywhere,

– Israel

The ETERNAL Wait Is Over

Eternal will be published on September 16th, 2014. It will indeed be self-published.

Eternal Print

Back | Spine | Front

Talks with Booktrope looked promising until there was sudden and complete silence. It was in the middle of a conversation with zero indication that they weren’t interested. My liaison simply stopped replying to emails. I waited for a month, then prodded again. Still nothing. It made me think that the man maybe had had an accident or something, so I felt a bit hurt seeing that he was still tweeting banalities day in and day out while my hopes withered. He could have had the decency of falling off a cliff to spare me the heartache of rejection. Oh, how I despaired.

Tangentially: Isn’t it such a weird and tentative dance, the whole emails-with-a-stranger-in-a-position-of-power thing? You never want to say too much, or too little; you want to be obsequious without being needy, you want to be cool without being aloof. You want to be sincere without coming across as a complete dumb-ass. It’s high school non-dating all over again.

Anyway, Eternal will be for sale soon, both in physical and electronic form, but exclusively online. Well, maybe I can convince the local bookshop to give it a read, awkward as the conversation might be. I deliver the mail to them, they owe me!

The eBook won’t cost more than a fancy cup of coffee. The print version will be as cheap as I can make it to cover production expenses—it’ll probably hover around fourteen to fifteen measly dollars. Is that the price of a movie ticket these days? It’s been a while.

I’ll be posting many more details on where to get it and what I’m doing to prepare. Though I might procrastinate on everything and then work around the clock to make this self-imposed deadline. Somehow I see that as the more likely scenario.

Exciting and/or soul-crushing times are afoot. Rejoice!

Friends always and forever,

– Israel

The Chronicle of Woe

Writing news: Eternal is ready. It’s time. It’s the moment of truth, the inflection point in my writing career, the fateful extra long sentence with lots of repetition to illustrate an overly simple fact: self-publication time!

The Wife constantly pesters me about it. I buy all these books, she says. They’re selling well and the authors are making careers by themselves, they don’t need no stinkin’ publisher. Your book is so much better, she says. Go make me some money so I can live off you, she says.

So, yes dear, I say. Everything is almost ready, files are good to go, art is in place for the most part BUT WAIT.

Beat up from dozens of trips in a crowded backpack

Beat up from dozens of trips in a crowded backpack. I should’ve used better lighting, you can’t see the cool cover design!

The very same day the last touch is done on the print version, Dearest Pro Bono Editor of Eternal (did I ever post her name here? It seems rude to say names so I won’t) calls me.

I sold my soul for you, she says over a terrible connection. I know so-and-so and told them you’re brilliant (aaaaaw!) They’ll take a look at your book, she says.

I’ve had two glasses of wine, she says.

I’m flabbergasted she goes to such lengths for me, but some semblance of due diligence must be done! I check them out online and Booktrope sounds like a grand lot of fellers. Hell yea, I say, let’s give it a go. And so, here I am.

I won’t lie to you, I’m wary of going into this process again, but I would be a fool to pass up such an amazing opportunity. If nothing comes out of it career-wise, I’m sure Eternal will be better for it in the end, and that’s what matters most really. One way or another, Alexandra and Aaron Gretchen will see the light of day–but yeah, I’d rather see it happen this way. So…wish me luck I guess?




Non-writing news: no donuts for you! It turns out that Fairbanks, Alaska is a huge dick to new business of little means. Why, let me tell you of our adventures!

We (the wife and I, that is) tell our franchise rep from Paradise Donuts that we’ve saved $90k for this business. The man says, hot diggity damn, that’s more than enough to spare. I’m paraphrasing here.

We scout a location (what a pain in the ass in itself) and get some estimates. Nope, can’t do it for less than $100,000, the high-balling goes on-location. Dick tits, we say. So alright, we secure some financing then. After months of wheedling, $50,000 from the bank in business loan form, plus some extra from the outbuilding allowance in the lease. That should be plenty, we are excited!

The general contractor says, you know, I’ve been putting a lot of hours getting everybody to give me some serious numbers, and it looks like it won’t be less than $200,000. I might be able to negotiate down to about $150,000 if you give some specific blueprints for the whole thing.

That’s outrageous! We say. Get more estimates, quick! Surely there’s some company in this town that will do this project for less. Go with the lowest bidder, that always works out great!

The lowest is $240,000.

So, okay. My parents want to loan us $50,000. I feel like dirt for taking their money after everything they’ve done for me, but if we haggle hard enough, we can still do this. That’s…good, right?

Risk every penny we have? Get majorly in debt, with family no less? Deal with this town’s prices forever? Yoke ourselves to Alaska’s unforgiving EVERYTHING for at least the next 5 years? Hmm. Determination is starting to fray by this point, truth be told.

Alright, so let’s get some blueprints. Architect prices are crazy I’m sure, but it can’t be more than a few grand. That sounds insane already, but we can do that, and we need them anyway because both the location owner and the City require them. It’s for the Greater Good.

The first proposal comes in, after waaaaaaay too long of a wait. We open the email with some trepidation. It’s hard to decide what I’m hoping for by this point.

We started laughing at this point


Here’s the bottomline: we’re moving. We could maybe make it work with a lot more effort and determination and quite a bit of luck. But no, no thanks. We’re both tired of this town and this is an excellent time to pack up and go. We’ll take our cash elsewhere and see ya never, moose and beaver! Wow, that was weak, sorry about that.

It’s regrettable I won’t be able to say anymore “oh yeah, I live in North Pole Alaska, I’m so cool” but that’s the price I must pay.

It’ll happen next year probably, since it takes a while to transfer job and sell house and procrastinate as much as possible. But ten years in Alaska feels like more than enough 40-below weather to last me for a lifetime.




LASTLY! Playing games while blathering over them is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was going to say that I’ve let my inner nerd run rampant with this, but that would imply that the guy is not in display at all times. So let me try that one again: I’m a huge nerd and I’ve run rampant with this.

Yes, that’s more appropriate. I’ve even done a bunch of tutorials, I’m so damn good. Spelunky 101 is 1337, yo.

Let us unravel it together

Click it and let us unravel it together

I’m aware how silly it looks to anyone not “in the scene.” I’m okay with that. After literally hundreds of hours talking non-stop while concentrating on gameplay at the same time, words seem to come easier to me throughout daily life. Who could have thought, right? I used to dread the mere sight of a microphone, but now it’s so natural. I find myself speaking out more at work, asking questions out loud that I wouldn’t have voiced before, coming up with witty retorts that would have taken several minutes before. This entire endeavor has been and continues to be a huge time investment, but I feel it’s been worth every second.

Besides, I would have gamed my life away anyway; addiction is a powerful thing. Might as well entertain while doing it.

So that’s life in Israel so far. Be good to one another, space cowboys.


An Eventful Life

Oh man, month recap! Only there’s just one news-worthy item. Middle of July I got a rejection in 11 hours after submitting, which is record time so far. Behold!

Dear Author:

Thank you so much for sending the Superfantastic Literary Agency your query. We’d like to apologize for the impersonal nature of this standard rejection letter. On average, we receive nearly 500 email query letters a week and despite that, we do read each and every query letter carefully. Unfortunately, this project is not right for us. Because this business is so subjective and opinions vary widely, we recommend that you pursue other agents. After all, it just takes one “yes” to find the right match.
Good luck with all your publishing endeavors.
Wandering Soul
Terse Iconoclast
Rambunctious Felon
Well at least the form letter doesn’t tell you to drive nails into your skull. That’s a great plus.

This might sound like I’ll whine no matter what, but I actually would rather wait a bit longer to be rejected. It’s a small accomplishment whenever you send out a query—at least if you do it the “right” way and actually work on each one individually. Even if it yields no results in the end, you walk away from sending that email as if you actually got something done. Such a quick rejection letter craps all over that sense of accomplishment.

Let it simmer for a week, I say. A week is the perfect amount of time. By the time a week has gone by, I’m no longer getting off that sense of accomplishment and you can feel free to crap in my cereal all you want. Everybody wins!

On a similar note, I have mixed feelings on what’s better, whether getting that rejection letter or Eternal Silence. With the rejection letter you get certainty, you can move on, but it stings. The Eternal Silence leaves you wondering for a while, but it’s so much easier to deal with. When the deadline for getting a positive response comes and goes, the disappointment is tiny in comparison—like a dull ache that slowly, slowly fades away, so much so that you don’t even realize it when it’s gone.

Still I think I’d rather get that rejection letter, if only to see how many variations of “no thanks” can agents come up with. Besides, it builds character! You can never be too jaded on the internet.

There is potentially better news to share on this topic but it feels tacky to mention before it’s concluded. I’ll document it one way or another in the future when it’s all said and done. It might be the cause for much rejoicing but I’m keeping my expectations low. This paragraph is now complete.

I ate a lamp,


Query: the Query

I was thinking today (gasp!) that The Path to Publication: The Hunt for an Agent is hardly a complete story without the query itself. Shouldn’t it have been the first thing that I posted?

Well, I answered myself, the query feels like something you show later, you know? What you have now is as refined as you can make it, but you don’t know for sure that it won’t change before The One Agent is smitten with it. You wait until it’s all said and done, and then you go, “oh yeah, here’s the query letter that made it happen.” It doesn’t feel like a risk at that point—you’re showing off your success while being helpful to aspiring writers. Everybody wins!

But that’s not the point of the blog, I answered lustily. The point is to share the ups and downs of the Path to Publication, I added sumptuously, regardless of how silly it makes you look. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone improves over time, everyone starts somewhere. That’s what you’re trying to show here in real time (somewhat), instead of telling it later.

Yes, you have convinced me, I told me. The truth, I continued to tell me, is that I’m too scawwed to take the risk of posting a risible failure. A breach of etiquette is also of concern. It all boils down to the hundreds of atomic wedgies I got in high school, I concluded wisely.

Never mind that, you fool! I exhorted myself—okay this is getting old. Anyway, here it is. Query: ETERNAL as was sent yesterday.

Dear (agent’s full name):

I submit for your consideration ETERNAL, a 160,000-word fantasy novel set in a grim yet wondrous afterlife.

Alexandra and Aaron Gretchen have died in a massive explosion. They arrive at separate locations in an afterlife that’s shared with all of the sapient species in the Universe.

An atheist in life, Aaron confronts his continued existence in an alien landscape. He’s barely started searching for Alexandra when he encounters an amiable tentacled monster eager to lead him to the nearest human domain. There he learns a terrible truth: the known afterlife is boundless, and Alexandra could be anywhere. Undeterred, Aaron resolves to do everything in his power to find his wife.

Alexandra was certain she’d ascend to heaven, and so her worldview is shattered when hideous demons attack as soon as she regains consciousness. Wounded, hunted, royally pissed off at her assigned fate, Alex vows to find her husband and battle her way out of hell. Her escape becomes a harrowing quest for answers as she realizes her situation is a far cry from eternal damnation.

Aaron and Alexandra’s parallel stories reveal an afterlife where humanity has no shortage of enemies; where the dead arrive at random times and places, thoughts shape reality and ceasing to exist is a very real possibility. Aaron will strive against an ancient conspiracy designed to keep him away from his beloved, while Alexandra will rise to lead an insurgence among enslaved souls, everlasting torment as the price of failure. Their all-consuming need to be reunited will drive them to persevere against daunting adversity—but how can they hold out hope, when even their allies scheme to keep them apart?

ETERNAL is my first novel. It reads like dark fantasy, but also incorporates science fiction and dystopian elements, exploring themes of faith, the resilience of hope and the limits of human knowledge. It comfortably stands on its own but it’s planned to be the first part in the Boundless Trilogy.

A final draft is complete. I’d be delighted to follow up with the full manuscript at your request.

(agent-dependent paragraph(s) )

On top of the closing paragraph, I’ll tailor a few other spots to the specific agent, depending on their preferences. Giving examples feels pretentious since I don’t know yet whether I’m doing it right.

I’ve been saving previous versions of the query letter for a future poast on the evolution of the query, which is something I can’t do until I reach the end of the line with this book. I anticipate it will be a very popular poast when the time comes, and I very much hope this version will be at the bottom of that poast.

That’ll be all for now. I should go.

- Israel

Cats and Books – Print on Demand

I was terribly curious about Print on Demand and figured why the hell not. To clarify, I only wanted to print out a sample copy for private use. No intentions to sell anything here! After summary research I shunned the more mainstream stuff in favor of The Book Patch. It was a fairly painless process and it cost a whopping $12 plus shipping and handling fees.

I want to say I was quite thorough in researching first that this does not use up your first publishing rights. As long as you don’t sell it to anyone, you’re good. It’s the same as printing out your manuscript in your home’s printer.

Results! Luna is pleased.

Click for full feline greatness

Click for full feline greatness

I’ll admit I expected complete garbage, so I was very much impressed with the quality. The cover is somewhere between paperback and hardcover, while the interior is just as pretty as you’d expect a printed book to be. Too bad they don’t allow customization of paper quality — though the paper has the right feel, it would be nice to be able to use something more cream-colored.

Hairy fingers fans rejoice

Vanity at its best. Also it’s “theatrics,” not “theatricals,” and “he” instead of “him and other scribes.” That’s the kind of stuff that jumps out at you!

I’d recommend these guys to anyone, overall. The only snag I noticed is that the black and white printing isn’t very good for interior art designs, though maybe I simply used wrongly-optimized files. If you want to see how your book will look in print, this is definitely the way to go.

Which brings me to the actual, extremely useful aspect of this endeavor! This is an awesome tool for revisions. The draft I printed out with them was thought to be final after gruesome, lengthy editing, but so many things jump out at you from the actual printed page. I’d encourage everyone out there with a final draft to do this before starting to query (and I do mean final, editor-reviewed, ready-to-be-submitted draft: it would get way too expensive to do it all the time.) I didn’t regret it and neither will you, I swear on Andraste’s rump.

It’s also a very nice present for people that have believed in you through the writing of your novel, and I’ve put together a nicer, better formatted edition for them. And who knows, it could become an extremely rare collector’s item five hundred years from now. You must always watch for future generations, you see.

I’m still a little stunned that this technology exists at all. Print a book, any book, for hardly an hour’s worth of wages and some fiddling with suitably formatted files. It’s the future, people! 

Live well and prosper.

Thank you for thinking of us

No wonder there’s so many blogs out there, it’s all writing about yourself and how very smart and clever you are.

Not this time.

Dear Israel,

Thank you so much for querying us with your project.  Unfortunately, we did not feel it was the right fit for our agency.  While we are unable to comment personally on every query, please know we did give your work our full consideration.  Thanks for thinking of The Totally Awesome Agency and we wish you nothing but the best in your writing career.


Peace, Love and Understanding 

Oh well. Though I doubt they based their decision solely on it, the mortifying typo I found in the query letter shortly after clicking send probably didn’t help. Oooops.

I find the biggest bummer in a rejection is the sense of futile time expenditure. It’s been taking me about two full days on average to research a promising agent and tailor their query. The alternative would be the unsavory practice of shotgunning queries to every agent out there that could be remotely interested, but it is greatly discouraged everywhere and it does feel … tacky. It’s alright, though—these are interesting times that I will endeavor to grok deeply so that I may cherish and praise them in retrospect.

That was a Stranger in a Strange Land reference! Man, so damn clever. Anyway, it’s not wasted time, because (I’d like to think) the query gets a little better with every submission. It follows, then, that I will eventually reach the Perfect Query Singularity and make the Universe collapse into paradox space.

That would be a very bad thing! I must be stopped. Only you can save the Universe, Dear Agent.

The Story So Far

The story is fairly standard, yet it does not lack serendipity.

I’ve been thinking about Eternal since 2006, when I dreamed I died and showed up in the Pathways. I didn’t decide to seriously pursue it until *looks it up* April of 2011.

(I just looked up my word count pseudo-spreadsheet, where I’d note down the amount of words written each day. Though word output isn’t everything, It was a great motivational tool source of much self-yelling. I’ll talk about it at some point.)

I “finished” the first draft on May 20th, 2012, which just means I got to the final stop of the story. 210,000 words. Then I spent a couple months revising it. 190,000 words, and I thought I’d cut a lot. Then a dearest friend popped out of nowhere after a long absence and told me that a dearest friend of his was an actual friggin’ editor, and not just that, but this award-winning editor was willing to give it a look, free of charge and everything.

At this point you might think, wow, it doesn’t get much luckier than that. Well, then let me tell you that this editor liked it well enough to go through every page in the manuscript and mark it up. Page by bloated, meandering page.

But that’s not all. Because after I went through that manuscript and pretty much rewrote the entire novel (the way every first-time author is doomed to do, by the way, don’t think that you’ll be different) She went through it again. All she asked in return was that I credit her in the acknowledgments, and something about my first-born child that I didn’t take seriously but maybe I should’ve? Just between you and me, she’s a little bananas. Please don’t tell her I said that, she might set my house on fire with her pyrokinesis.

Anyway, revisions, gotta love’m. A billion or so drafts later, the final draft is considered Done on May 2013, save some minor adjustments. 160,000 words after adding a bunch of scenes and conversations, which might give you an idea of how bloated the first draft was.

This led to the “first query” blog entry down there. And so that’s the story so far. Now you know, invisible person!

It feels nice being able to work on something new until more revision is needed. I’m about 75 pages into the next book, something that’s going to be completely different from Eternal, wink wink nudge nudge.

Blank stare. Senile smile.

Awkward shuffle.

A Declaration of Intent

Greetings, phantoms from the future.

There’s a great number of compelling reasons why this blog is mostly empty. They basically boil down to (1) lack of an audience and (2) time constraints. I’m pretty much talking to myself here, and any amount of time I spend blathering on this blog is time that I could have spent working on a novel.

However, it has occurred to me that this is a very sad space indeed, and creating a nice backlog for future readers to browse isn’t that bad an idea. I suppose this is a disclaimer, then: I know I’m talking to myself right now. You don’t need to point it out. Readers will come, in time.

I can’t just blab about nothing, though—and the other reason why I’m starting today is that I actually have a fairly compelling story to tell through this blog, and that’s the…


It’s been done before a thousand times, I’m sure. But every story is different, who knows what this one will hold? (Tears, tears, many tears). And in the diffuse future, when I can look back at the starting years with fond nostalgia as my robo-maid massages my temporal lobes, my millions of rabid, frothing fans will be able to read how it all started while masturbating to smiling at my early antics.

Time is still a real problem, what with lots of overtime in the day job and a budding writing career, so I will write these entries only when there’s something relevant to say, and I must endeavor not to obsessively search for clever turns of phrase on everything I write here. There will be rough spots and grammatical errors, hopefully minimal but I’m sure present to a certain degree.

Thus it begins, the chronicle of Israel Barbuzano as he wades forth through the Path to Publication!

Note: I promise never to refer to myself in the third person again.