Another Review of Like Glass Up!
Be sure to stop over by Lover of Books to check out the latest review for Like Glass (go straight to the review here)! Thanks for the great review!
If I may once again be so bold as to steal a quote:
For a first novel, there is depth, emotion, and a story to tell whether in the past or the present. Janet, Lisa, and Rob have to deal with the now. The brother he knew seems to be such a good guy. Things are changing all the time and Rob has to figure out how to keep up. Mr. Cory keeps things light at times but there is healing that needs to be done.
First Review for Like Glass Is In!!!
Just wanted to post a quick note here: the Book Escape has just posted a review for Like Glass. Make sure you stop by and check it out: http://nbbaker1102.wordpress.com/2008/10/23/like-glass/!
Thanks Nicole!
If I may be so bold as to steal a quote:
Overall, this is a love story. But, it doesn’t follow the typical love story formula. There are many twists and turns and it is quite intense, at times. The characters do some surprising things and that doesn’t stop until the conclusion.
Win a Free Copy of Like Glass: Question of the Week
Alright, starting with the next podcast, I’m going to be giving away one free digital copy of Like Glass. Here’s how it works: out of the questions sent in to the mailbag, I’m going to pick one that’s the Question of the Week. This will be the question that I like the most — it could be one the most thought provoking, the most humorous, so on and so forth. The person who sent it in will receive a copy of Like Glass in their email later in the day, after I post the podcast, so make sure you listen in to see if you won.
To make things easier, I’ve added a new contact form specifically for mailbag questions. You can use it to send your question in by going here. So, hurry up and send your question in for your chance to win!
Quickie Update on Shattered
It’s been a little while since I mentioned Shattered, the upcoming sequel to Like Glass, and with good reason — it’s had to take a bit of a backseat to other things going on in life. But, I’ve been working on it a little bit this weekend, and things are (still) moving along slowly but surely.
Right now, I’m moving through the sappy love story that it needs, and we’re starting to get some of the first hints of some bad times ahead. I promised you it was going to be darker than Like Glass, and that’s what I’m getting into right now — just a hint, but you can’t just dive right into it or it loses all it’s flavor.
Aside from that, if things go well there should be lots of progress on it over the next few weeks — if things work out like I’m expecting them to (seriously, when does that ever happen?), then I may even be done with the rough draft by the Like Glass release party. No promises, of course, but it’s possible. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.
Got to run — need to make some phone calls and maybe get back to work on the book.
Quickie Status: Shattered, Etc.
Just wanted to post a quick update this morning. Shattered is moving along, still slowly but surely. I’m shooting at a finished date of December — what we would call in the software world as “feature complete”, though it will still need editing — and a release date in Feburary. Of course, this is all dependent on work. I’m hoping to get some vacation time in the next couple of weeks, and I’ll be spending most of that working on it (well, that’s the plan; I’ll probably spend most of it playing with Facebook).
Then again, if I get a killer publishing deal on Like Glass, then I should be able to quit my day job and work on Shattered a lot more (hint hint hint).
I’m also trying to keep myself more focused on the “rough” aspect of the rough draft: I’m going for quantity over quality at the moment. It’s a lot easier to edit stuff later on when there’s something to edit, than to frustrate yourself while you’re writing. If it’s garbage when I look at it later, I can scrap it or fix it; no need to worry about it now, just worry about getting the damned thing out first.
I’m not going to give too many details about Shattered — mostly because I don’t know them myself yet — but I guess I can tell you a little bit about what I’m playing with.
For starters, it is a sequel to Like Glass, and it takes place almost a year after the end to the first novel. We’re still dealing with Rob, now as Caitlain’s adoptive parent. Marty’s got a bigger part in this one, and Lisa’s come back as well — she’s married and has had her kid by now. There’s a new character in this one, another pianist named Carolyn, and she’s going to have a big part in everything.
That’s about all I can say at the moment, other than two things that I’m adding as “rumours”: 1) I’m planning on this one to be “darker” than Like Glass was, and b) things are kinda the opposite as they were in Like Glass — Rob gets to play Janet’s role to some degree.
Those last two are, as I said, strictly rumours, and I’m reserving the right to change them as I see fit — so don’t get upset if you pick the book up when it’s finished and it’s all happy-go-lucky. (Yeah, right; as if I’ve ever done anything happy-go-lucky…)
Okay, need to get ready for the next lap in the rat race. Have fun.
Changing Direction
It’s a lovely Sunday here in the desert — not too hot, a little breezy, but really nice. Perfect day for doing absolutely nothing.
Instead, though, I’m trying to figure out where to go with Shattered, the sequel to Like Glass. And it’s one of the things that I both love and hate about writing, too. I had a bit of an epiphany this morning, on how the book should play out, and it completely threw everything out the window.
I’m not going to go into details, because I don’t know if it’s going to stick or not and I don’t want to be held accountable for it. But basically, instead of the sequel being focused on the further trials and tribulations of Rob, the protagonist of Like Glass, Shattered looks now like it’s going to be focused on a new character’s problems, just from Rob’s perspective. Basically, instead of Rob dealing with his own crap, he’s going to be dealing with someone else’s crap.
Should be fun, if I can get it figured out alright.
Like I said though, that’s what I both love and hate about writing: just when you start to think you know the story you’re going to write, one of your characters comes along and says “I don’t think so, bubba, it’s gonna be like this.” And you have two options: you can either force your will upon them, which — since characters are real people too, in a writer’s mind — will normally piss them off and they’ll go somewhere else; or you can sit back and listen to them, and normally they either have a better idea or they can at least give you something to work with.
It’s a lot like life — you telling someone “It’s my way or the highway,” in which case the only people that stick around aren’t really much help, or you tell them “hey, that’s not a bad idea; I can work with that and together we can come up with something even better.” Then you get people around who help out, who may not know exactly what’s going on but can still contribute enough to keep the ball rolling until it gets past the goal line.
I hope it’s obvious which method I try to use; whether I succeed in that is entirely up for debate though.
Okay, enough blabbing, on to trying to listen to our new friend.
Like Glass: First Chapter
Just for kicks, I thought I’d post the first chapter to Like Glass for your reading pleasure. There’s been sample chapters available as a PDF download (which you can get here), but I know some people don’t really care too much for PDF’s or downloading files. So, here’s a sample of the novel, and I hope you enjoy it.
Like Glass
Chapter 1
It’s generally inappropriate to call a woman in tears a bastard or a son of a
bitch, and ordering them to die and rot is fairly tasteless most of the time as
well. At least before you know what she’s crying about. Rob Jackson might
be forgiven for having those words on his tongue when he answered the
phone, as it was his brother he expected on the other end and not the
quavering, feminine sobs he heard as he put the receiver to his ear.
Five years had passed since he’d last seen Bill’s number on the caller id and
he’d waited by the phone until it quit ringing then. Five years still wasn’t long
enough. He still wished his brother were dead.
Of the eight years since Rob had called it quits with his brother, it had taken
three for Bill to get it through his head that Rob wanted nothing more to do
with him. Now it appeared he was calling again.
He almost ignored this call like the last one, but didn’t. It’d been a bad
Wednesday already—he’d lost the Grey’s Industrial Services account, a new
website that would’ve been great for the company’s portfolio as well as its
books. The LAPD finally decided that parking in front of the fire hydrant
outside the office door was worthy of a two-hundred-fifty dollar fine. To top
it all off, Cindy finally admitted to her affair with her trainer. That wasn’t that
big of a deal; he’d harbored stronger attachments to lawn furniture than any
woman in a long time. It just served as icing on top of an already shitty cake
of a day. Seeing Bill’s number on the caller id had proved that the day really
and truly could get worse.
Any other day he would’ve ignored it without a second thought. Not
tonight though. Tonight he wanted a catharsis. It’d been a long time since
he’d cussed out Bill for what he’d done to him, and it put him in a bit of a
better mood at least. A phrase somewhere along the lines of “You bastard
sonofabitch, die and rot in hell,” had been what sprang to mind, and he
marked it as either a good opening line or perfect for the moment before he
hung up the receiver on his brother’s pleading voice. Either would work, he’d
just wait and see how it played out.
When he picked up the phone, he hesitated—an act he was later at least
somewhat thankful for, although he could never figure out why he didn’t just
lay into Bill right off the bat. A rather feminine sniffle greeted his silence, soft,
almost pleading. At the very least it wasn’t Bill, and he quickly changed his
game plan. His pause apparently confused the tearful woman on the other end
as well.
“Hello?” Definitely a woman, speaking in that pathetic, shaky voice of
someone who’s trying to be strong and failing miserably at it.
“Hi, this is Rob.” Confused, he reverted to the office, speaking as he would
with a customer before he even realized it.
“Hi, Rob. It’s Janet.”
“Hi Janet. Long time.”
“Yeah. Um, I’m sorry to call you Rob. I know things were never that great
with us and everything, but…” That’s a lie, he thought, but didn’t say. It didn’t
seem appropriate to antagonize her at the moment. Maybe in a few minutes,
but at least he’d let her have her say.
“What’s up?”
“It’s Bill…he’s, um, Bill’s dead Rob. There was an accident at the factory
today and…” Her voice trailed off; she was still trying to be strong, but the
façade was crumbling fast.
“You’re kidding me. Is he—” He stopped himself; of course Bill wasn’t
okay, but that was the first thing that came to mind. “Are you guys okay?” In
hindsight, this was almost as stupid of a question, but he couldn’t think of
anything else.
“I don’t know. Lisa’s handling the um, the arrangements I think. She’s
watching Jake and Caitlain right now.” She was almost at a full sob again. “I
just wanted to let you know. I know you guys weren’t very close, but…” She
couldn’t continue, her words drowned out by the deep crying only newborn
widows are capable of.
“Janet, it’s okay. Look, I’ll be out there tomorrow and help out as best as I
can, okay?” Something that resembled an “okay, thank you” found its way
through her sobs. He told her to take care and that he’d see her soon.
Hanging up the receiver, he sat in anticipation for the sick joy he knew
should be coming along. Any minute now, he’d burst into a wide grin,
perhaps run to the store and get a bottle of champagne (or some cheap wine
from the gas station if the grocery store had already closed). It didn’t come
though, and he sat in his office, going over various bills and invoices as a light
rain blurred the city through the window before him.
After an hour he gave up trying to make sense of work and went online to
order a plane ticket to Portland for the next day. He called the office and left a
voice mail, telling whoever would get to it first in the morning that he’d be
gone for a while and to have Jim run the shop while he was gone.
He walked to the gas station at the corner, and instead of looking for the
cheap wine he grabbed a cheap six pack and returned home. Per his custom
when he could hear the sleepy grumbling of the past waking up to rear its
brutish head, he set one bottle aside and studied it as he drank the remaining
five. Still waiting for the malicious ecstasy he’d been expecting to join him at
this long awaited news, he turned his computer off and went to bed.
* * *
The next morning he woke early and packed for roughly a week away. If it
were longer, he could always buy more shirts and slacks; if it were less, then he
lost nothing but about fifteen minutes. He smoked a cigarette on the sidewalk
in front of his apartment, waiting for his cab to arrive, doing his part to
contribute to the late spring smog.
He hated flying, and was not particularly looking forward to the short
voyage up the coast. A “good” flight bores you to tears; an exciting flight is
what keeps the airlines in bed with the liquor companies. Turbulence is God’s
way of gently reminding you (and sometimes not so gently) that you’re His
whenever He wants you. He hoped the Almighty wasn’t in a reminding kind
of mood today as the cab pulled up. By the time he arrived at LAX, he relaxed
slightly, knowing the flight would be fine; whatever Gods there may be had
tried pretty damned hard to remind him of his mortality with the cab ride. If
they felt he still needed an extra push they obviously weren’t as all-knowing as
they claimed to be.
After checking in, he found himself an area near the main entrance where
he could enjoy a few cigarettes in peace while he waited the two hours before
boarding. Of course, it seemed these days “in peace” meant only two or three
non-smokers an hour harassed him, and only five others gave him dirty looks.
He didn’t really care one way or another about someone preaching at him right
now though; he was still waiting for the glee he had been positive would
follow the news of his brother’s untimely death. He was slightly disheartened
that it hadn’t made its appearance yet and confused that neither grief nor
remorse had taken the absent joy’s place.
* * *
Almost as much as flying, he hated kids. They could be cute, he supposed,
but mostly they were annoying. Too loud, too messy, too much of a nuisance.
Cindy didn’t want kids; that had been one point in her favor, but she was some
other poor sap’s problem now anyways. He was sure that the kid who smiled
at him as he smoked outside the terminal was no exception to the loud, messy
stereotypical child, and he doubted Cindy would’ve been terribly impressed
with her.
She looked like she might be cute at times. Probably most of the time, if
one were inclined to think runny noses and poor speech were endearing
charms. She was maybe eight, holding onto her mother’s hand as the woman
dragged her along. She waved at him and he tried hard to look annoyed at the
interruption in the thoughts he wasn’t having. Nevertheless, he found himself
smiling back at her diplomatically as she walked past, her blond hair bouncing
playfully along behind her as her mother tugged at one of her arms, a purple
stuffed dinosaur in the other.
He finished his last cigarette with about fifteen minutes to spare before his
flight boarded and hurried across the terminal. After a quick bathroom stop,
he found his gate and was just in time to stand in line as the attendants
boarded the plane. Luckily for him, Blondy was in line right ahead of him.
She noticed him, and turned and smiled again.
“We’re going to see my gramma.” She stated this with such an air of
importance that for an instant he thought she was referring to a foreign
dignitary. He smiled again at her.
“Really? Well, that’s good.” The girl’s mother turned at him, with stern
embarrassment.
“Krissy, how many times do I have to tell you: don’t talk to strangers. Sorry
about that,” she added to Rob. “She’s a bit too friendly sometimes.”
“It’s alright.” The lady turned back towards the front of the line, while
Krissy kept staring at him and smiling a smile that he could now see was shy a
few teeth.
“Gramma’s old. Older than dirt, daddy says.” The lady gave a sharp tug on
her child’s arm as Rob tried to hold back a chuckle in spite of himself.
“Krissy, be quiet!”
“‘Kay.”
The child finally listened to her mother as the line started to move. Within
minutes, they were boarding the plane, and Rob was relived to find himself
seated alone in the aisle (and noticeably many rows away from Krissy and her
mother, which he assumed was the mother’s way of showing appreciation for a
lack of assigned seats on this flight).
The flight attendants came along briefly to help people stow away their
carry-on bags, and as people took their seats another attendant walked down
the aisle taking drink orders. He satisfied himself with ordering a Crown Royal
on the rocks in spite of the relatively early hour, and within minutes they were
in the air. Not long after take off, when the plane had reached a stable
altitude, a different attendant returned with his drink and he sat alone with an
$8.00 double shot and his thoughts of the past.
He tried to think of Bill, to try and feel something one way or another as he
drank the whiskey, but it was hard—how could you remember anything about
someone you hadn’t known for eight years? There was before of course, all the
great times they’d had growing up together, the parties and the ribbing and the
long, late night talks about nothing and everything.
And there was then. The “then” that he’d used to alienate his brother, when
his brother finally grabbed the proverbial straw that broke the proverbial
camel’s back.
He could barely remember the before, and it was only in thinking of then—
the eight-years-ago then—that he started to feel anything. Nothing new there;
he’d thought of it plenty of times since it happened, and it always gave enough
fuel to the fire that kept him from picking up the phone himself. Part of him
didn’t want to think of then, it wanted to try and grieve over his brother,
because that’s what you do when family dies, right? He wanted to try and
force himself to respect the dead, but he couldn’t. As an airy ding signaled the
captain turning off the remain-in-your-seats notice, he gave up his battle with
himself and let his mind wander to then. To the eight-years-ago then.
Book Signing in December
Alright, for those keeping score here’s another signing to add to the list.
I’ll be appearing at the Book Rack, at 10708 Pebble Hills Blvd, (El Paso, Texas) from 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM on December 6th. This will be my first “public” appearance, as I consider Shooter’s in the same light one might consider a child hood home (okay, maybe not quite that much, but I still don’t feel like I’m out in public there).
There will be books available for purchase there, but (like at the release party) it’ll be a limited supply, so make sure you get your copy now so you have it then.
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Like Glass Release Party Update
Alright — quick update here in the Events section.
The Like Glass release party has been changed in a couple of key ways:
- Most important: The date and time has changed; it’s now Friday, November 14th from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM.
- There will no longer be a reading. I’ve decided that it’d be better to just have a good time, and good times normally get a bit louder than is conducive to hearing a mildly soft-spoken guy like myself try to read something when he’s nervous.
- If you’re really nice, we might try to get a DJ — big might, as this hasn’t even really been discussed, just mentioned in passing in an email this morning. If you’re really mean, we’ll get karaoke
Any questions, comments, or suggestions are quite welcome — post them as a comment here (preferred, because others might have the same question) or contact me privately from the contact page.
Another Signing in the Works
A little birdy just told me that the BookRack (10780 Pebble Hills Dr., El Paso, TX) is going to be hosting a book signing for Like Glass, possibly sometime in December. Details are still being sorted out at the moment — even the date is up in the air, as you can see — but don’t worry; the birdy won’t shut up half the time, and if he’s got anything good to add to this I’ll let you know.
Stay tuned…
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