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I did a deep dive into my business today. I’m very disappointed in myself. It’s like looking in the mirror and seeing a gut grow. I know how it got there. I stopped running. Stopped eating right. Drank more beer. All the things that got me into the best shape of my life, I quit doing them. Same thing for the business. I can complain that the algorthym changed or that the market shifted or blah blah blah. I can also look in the mirror and see what I did. Or what I didn’t do. Let’s look at last quarter. I did soft releases of four new books. In four separate series.   I preach staying in one series until you master it and are making the money from it you want. I didn’t practice it. I launched at full price in a new genre where I have no presence and no list. This worked for a couple of other writers. I wanted it to work for me. It did not. So it’s back to the basics for me. That means running at least a mile bu

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How to reach 1,000 fans in 24 Hours I needed some cash. Fast. Isn’t that always the case? I remember reading a book when I was younger that talked about opportunity. Most people miss out for two main reasons. They don’t have enough time to pursue the opportunity because they are working a 40 hour a week job, have a family, etc. Or they don’t have the cash to make it happen. Time and money. Two things that are the main ingredients to building success. It should be easier to create both now. Take my book covers for example. I have a guy in Bangladesh that builds my book covers. I send him an order during the day on my time, and he wakes up and builds it on his time. He works while I sleep. I have the cover when I wake up the next day. I can do the same with ten other tasks. Reaching fans is another thing. A fan is someone who will go into their pocket and give you money for your product. Book promotion i

365 thoughts. I have a thousand per day. Maybe more. A lot revolve around money. Or dinner. A lot more about marketing. And writing. I think about telling stories all the time. But can i write 365 thoughts as blog posts in one year? I published 85 in October. I got advice to put it out there. To share more and list ideas. I did. I made .30 cents. I don't think I found new readers. Nobody went to KU to read through a whole series.  Maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe the point isn't a lot of money.  Maybe the point is to practice. Practice makes permanent. When instated running long distance, the best days were five to nine mile runs. I did them after work. They would take an hour. Or an hour and a half. I had my loop picked out and distances mapped. I knew the playlist.  It wasn't easy. But it was good practice for longer runs on the weekend. Practice made permanent.

CHAPTER ONE He stared at the drop of golden amber liquid on the tip of his finger. It glistened in the neon glow of a beer sign behind the bar, beaded up and hiding his fingerprint underneath. He imagined for a second he could see the twirl and swirl of the unique lines that only he owned in all the world. Fingerprints, the ultimate identifier. “Are you going to bet?” Jake shot a look at Amanda behind the bar. She had one hand behind her back, a bottle of what was on his finger hidden in her grip. “Double or nothing?” he shot her a cocky grin. “You’re on,” she snapped back with a smile. He put the tip of his finger on this tongue, transferring the drop onto his taste bud. He let it roll around a minute, savoring the miniature volcano of heat on just that one section of his tongue. It made the rest of his mouth water in anticipation. “Dewar’s,” he announced. Amanda pulled the hidden bottle from behind her back and showed him the label. “I’m impres

I blame the dog. It’s not his fault though. He’s twenty something pounds of pure floppy terror. I’m told he’s a Shitzu. Some nights he acts like a poo head. You may remember the Opossom assault of Aug/September. Their midnight forays into the neighbors outdoor cat food bowl required a sortie across the fence top. Gus mustered his ferocity and repealed the attack. Attacks. We are safe from Possoms.  Though George Jones can still sing on the airwaves, so we are still at auditory risk. The rain came last night. It swooped in like an attacking opossum and ushered in colder weather for the annual night of sweet treat begging. As I opened the door this morning to provide for a pre-dawn constitutional and ablations, Gus stepped out onto the patio and into cold raindrops. Before I could even shut the door, he scooted back in and gave me a look. Like it was my fault. How could I betray his loyalty, his constant overnight vigil to

Ever time travel? Most people don’t think it’s real, but if you’re like me, you believe in it. Still skeptical? Ever hear a song that takes you back to a special place in your life? How about a smell that sparks a memory? Or that shiver you get from déjà vu’? That’s time travelling. If you believe in quantum theory, there are a number of reasons for it. Parallel universe kind of stuff. Or maybe the Sherlock explanation works best. It’s just a simple pleasant memory. For me, I have a lot of fond memories. I don’t think my childhood was easy. I grew up so broke, we were just Po. We couldn’t afford the or to be poor. Single hippie mom. Cigarettes and beer were number one and two on the grocery list with food a distant third after a dime bag for Friday night. I had grandparents though and I’ve talked about Mamaw and Papaw before.   Grew their own food. Hunted their own meat. Built things with their hands. And always always had something sp

Ever time travel? Most people don’t think it’s real, but if you’re like me, you believe in it. Still skeptical? Ever hear a song that takes you back to a special place in your life? How about a smell that sparks a memory? Or that shiver you get from déjà vu’? That’s time travelling. If you believe in quantum theory, there are a number of reasons for it. Parallel universe kind of stuff. Or maybe the Sherlock explanation works best. It’s just a simple pleasant memory. For me, I have a lot of fond memories. I don’t think my childhood was easy. I grew up so broke, we were just Po. We couldn’t afford the or to be poor. Single hippie mom. Cigarettes and beer were number one and two on the grocery list with food a distant third after a dime bag for Friday night. I had grandparents though and I’ve talked about Mamaw and Papaw before.   Grew their own food. Hunted their own meat. Built things with their hands. And always always had somethin

What would we do without coffee? One of my favorite things to do is sit and drink a few cups of joe while the sun comes up. It gives me time to think and time to plan my day, or just time for this mind of mine to go off on tangents. This morning I thought about the dog. The dog who hopped in the bed at 10:45 last night, and then preceded to hop down to go out 7 freaking times by midnight. Sometimes we have nocturnal visitors and he needs to go defend the castle. There is an outside cat of the neighbors who likes to sit on the fence and torture him at night. An occasional possum shows up to steal the cat’s food. Trash pandas sit on the lake side of the fence and chitter at him through the boards. And he likes the cooler weather. Lazy mutt sleeps all day, no wonder he can stay up all night. I think he should get a job, but he would argue that he’s doing his job keeping us all safe at night. I say he’s keeping me up all night. “B

CHAPTER FIVE This time he went for drinks. It was after noon which meant five o’clock somewhere by his reckoning and besides, it was his house and he could do as much day drinking as he liked. Gretchen trailed down the stairs, belting on her skirt under her untucked silk blouse. She had one of his old robes tossed over a shoulder and handed it to him as he passed her a tumbler with a stingy splash of bourbon in the bottom. He was out of rum. “Ice?” she asked. He pointed toward the kitchen and proceeded to sip his neat, like a gentleman is supposed to do. She came back with her ruined drink and sat in an arm chair opposite him on the couch. The picture window looked out over his front yard and the real estate housing development going in across the pasture. The light coming in gave her red hair a slight glow as she touched the glass to her lips and didn’t drink. Jake didn’t mind. He would just add what she left to his glass later. Waste not, wan

I am afraid. Sometimes.   Or sometimes a lot.   I guess it just depends. I was thinking about all the things I am afraid of. Big snakes.   Alligators under me while swimming. I am afraid of not being a good father.   I am afraid of not being a good enough friend. Of not being successful. Of not trying. I am afraid of road rage in traffic and stray bullets. I am afraid of being burned. I'm afraid of getting older and getting slower and getting fat. I am afraid of the pains in my chest and the pains in my stomach and the pains in my head, intermittent though they may be. I am afraid of being trapped in one place. I am afraid I won't see the Northern Lights. I am afraid my kids will consider me a fun uncle more than their dad. I'm afraid their stepdad did a better job that I could. I am afraid of my ambition. I am afraid of turning to the Dark Side. I am afraid for the future of our country. I am a