Kevin's newest nipple-leech?

[SandChigger]

So...anyone else getting the impression that arny has now replaced TAZ as the suck-up getting info straight from the whore's mouth?

Think about it.

[Omphalos]

Kevie has to have somebody, seeing as he's too much of a coward to go there himself.

[TheDukester]

So...anyone else getting the impression that arny has now replaced TAZ as the suck-up getting info straight from the whore's mouth?

He's certainly not smart enough to come up with some of that stuff on his own.

Your theory panning out wouldn't even surprise me that much. This is a group of people who have blatantly set loose packs of shills to prop up their latest two cash-grabs over at Amazon. The Herbert family and that hack holding their leashes sold their souls to the dollar a long time ago.

[Robspierre]

From the latest Writer's of the Future newsletter:

IF ONLY I HAD THE TIME
by Writers of the Future Contest judge and New York Times bestselling author, Kevin J. Anderson.

During the 2005 Winter Olympics, the world watched great athletes from all nations perform seemingly impossible feats with breathtaking skill. When those well-toned men and women received their medals, we admired them for their almost superhuman abilities. Most of us didn’t kid ourselves (as we were sitting on the couch munching potato chips) that we could be just as talented, just as fast, just as strong . . . if only we had the time.

For some reason, though, a lot of people seem to believe such an absurd thing about writing books. I’ve had many people tell me that writing is easy, that they
themselves could do it, if they merely sat down and put their minds to it. Here’s how the conversation often goes:

A person at one of my book signings or appearances: “I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I could write a novel.”

Me: “Oh? Why haven’t you?”

Person: “I just don’t have the time.”

Me: “Hmm. You know, nobody gives me the time, either. I have to make the time, set priorities, discipline myself to get my writing done each day, no matter how tired I am. I worked a full-time regular job while I wrote my first novels, scraping out an hour here or there in evenings and weekends. That’s how I’ve become a
successful author.”

Person: “Yeah, right. I think you’re just lucky.”

Olympic athletes usually start their training as kids, practicing, competing, clawing their way up year after year. Some of them get up before dawn just to grab enough hours of training during the day. They strive to improve their performance, stretch their abilities, beat their personal bests and then beat them again. They practice until they’re ready to drop, and then they keep at it. Many are injured along the way. The vast majority of those who try out don’t make the Olympic team. They may win semifinals and regional competitions, but only the best of the best become part of the team—and only the very best of those will win a medal.

I’ve received dozens of letters posing the same question: “I want to write a bestselling novel. But it seems to take so long, and it’s an awful lot of work.
Can you tell me what the shortcut is?”

Without doing a full count and comparison, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are about as many New York Times bestselling authors as there are members of the various US Olympic teams. The competition among bestsellers is just as tough, and your chances of success are just as slim.

But does anyone really say, “I want to win a gold medal in figure skating, but I don’t have the time for all that practice and training. In fact, I don’t even own ice skates. Can you tell me the shortcut to winning a medal?”

To make a short answer long, I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was five years old. I sat in my dad’s study and plunked out my first “novel” on a manual typewriter when I was eight. By the age of ten, I had saved up enough money to buy either a bicycle (like a normal kid), or my own typewriter. I chose the typewriter. I got my first rejection slip by the time I was thirteen, had my first story published when I was sixteen (after I had gathered eighty rejection slips), and sold my first novel by the time I was twenty-five.

I have a trophy in my office proclaiming me to be “The Writer with No Future” because I could produce more rejection slips by weight than any other writer
at an entire conference. My files now bulge with more than eight hundred rejections. On the other hand, I also have ninety-four books published, forty-one of
which have been national or international bestsellers, and my work has been translated into thirty languages. I’ve written almost ten million words, so far.

No, I don’t know any shortcuts. Sorry.

Where does this notion come from that just anybody can write a novel, if they could only get around to it? I never hear the claim that just anybody can be an Olympic athlete, or a brain surgeon, or a space shuttle commander. Even if we did “have the time” to raise capital and invest wisely, few people could manage to be as rich as Donald Trump.

But somehow, publishing a novel apparently involves nothing more than unskilled labor, stringing a lot of sentences together until you fill enough pages with
words.

Every author has heard this one from a friend or a fan: “I’ve got a great idea for a novel. I’ll tell you the idea, you write the book and then we can split the money.” (As if the idea is the hard part!) In all honesty, I’m not short on ideas. In fact, I’ll never have time to flesh out all the novel possibilities that occur to me on a regular basis, so this proposition never ceases to amaze me.

I’ve often wished I had the nerve to reply: “I’m pretty busy right now, but why don’t we try it the other way around first? I’ll tell you an idea off the top of my head, then you can do all the research, the plotting and character development. You can write a hundred thousand words or so, then edit the manuscript (I usually do at least five to ten drafts), sell it to the publisher, work with the editor for any revisions, deal with the copy editor, proofread the galleys, then do book signings and promotion after it’s published. After all that, we’ll split the money. Sound fair?”

Now, I’m not comparing myself to an Olympic gold medalist. I can’t even stay up on ice skates. I don’t change the oil in my car (though I could probably figure it out, “if only I had the time”) or balance the monthly checkbook. But I do have a pretty good idea how to write a novel. I’ve been practicing and training for most of my life.

Maybe as a public service I’ll write a self-help book of shortcuts for these would-be authors who live all around us. I could call it, How to Become a Bestselling Author in Twenty Years or Less. Now, if only I could find the time to write it. . . .

Rob

[TheDukester]

Paging Mr. Chigger! Mr. Sand Chigger! Please report to the thread!

(I know there's so many easy openings to be found, but might I suggest you begin with: "I've written almost ten million words, so far." That one will get you warmed up).

[TheDukester]

Oh, my, this one is just too precious:

"I usually do at least five to ten drafts."

So ... many ... jokes. Head ... exploding.

[SandChigger]

Sorry...had to pop over to the health center. Mandatory health exam. Which I did like the first two years I worked here and then stopped going. (They always did it on days I wasn't here or my busiest class days.) D'uh. Stupid me.

Nurse taking blood had this Ahab thing going on. Practically began glowing when I walked through her door. You could tell from her face that she was thinking, "Aye...at last, the White Whale!" Proceeded to harpoon me, with not one but TWO vials. (Aye, and vile they were! Got her OWN solution to high BP. )

Anyway...I haven't actually read that quote. I mean...are you serious? Kevin on Kevin...gawd...which is duller, KoK or PoD?

OK, I'll do the same one:

I’ve written almost ten million words, so far. ... Most of them are very expressive adjectives modifying following nouns.

Anh...sorry...not inspired at the moment. Will try again later. (After actually reading the whole thing.)

[chanilover]

Is this thread serious? Arnoloco has been encouraged by Byron, but I think that's just because he loves the not-Dune books so much. Is Anderson really so slimy that he'd feed ideas to Arnoloco?

[SandChigger]

Encouraged? Hell, he's practically cybersucking him lately.

Maybe it's all a dumb act, but has arny impressed you as being all that smart?

Besides, there is a precedent for it: TAZ. Who supposedly could get answers out of Kevin when no one else could. I think Kevin finally realized what a liability TAZ really was (he was pretty thick, after all) and quietly dropped him. (They're still "Friends" on MySpace and all, but TAZ hasn't posted anything that I've seen in ages, and Kevin hasn't mentioned meeting his special fan/friend from Toronto lately.)

[Omphalos]

Throwin' aside the boy upon whose back the empire was built, huh? What a dick.

[SandChigger]

Uh-huh, a boy on his back...and something about a dick....What?!

[Rakis]

Arnie is a boy fucking KJA?

[SandChigger]

That needs a hyphen for proper disambiguation.

I think.

Maybe not.