Category Archives: Writing

Can a Writer Still Find Patrons?

He fell into the garage. Hands fumbled on wall. The light came on.

Okay, okay. Everything was here. Not organized, but here. His legs felt weak.

He started to load things. His legs shook, he was wobbly. Was it the drinks? That was hours ago. No, a different cocktail. The highball of boner and fear.

The looks at dinner. Maybe she couldn’t tell she was doing it. But he noticed. And so did her husband.

“Ah!”

A shelf crashed over, tools flew. Damn these legs. He held totally still. Listened.

Ten seconds. Thirty. No one stirred.

“Fuck.”

Okay, it would be a shitty night. But he would get out. He’d put the scroll on their table, steal exactly one breakfast, and ride out in the dark. He could make two hours by headlight and camp in the woods.

You need to change your spells, son. 

Ready, that’s the last of it. Okay. Drop off the scroll. He turned toward the door.

It was open.

Blocked by a husband.

This teaser is from Lúnasa Days, the semi-fictional account of a young man on the road—who casts spells.

It doesn’t exist yet.

To finish this story I have to put aside client work that pays. That’s hard to do, since it’s my main source of income.

If you want to read Lúnasa Days, consider becoming its patron. I’ve put together some extra special perks, only for patrons who help support the work now in its infancy.

The final ebook will likely retail for less than $10. You can wait for it to come out and hold out for that price. Or, you can get it ahead of time, get some special benefits, and help me tell the stories of the road. Here’s how.

$20 – Advance Copy

By becoming a patron at the $20 level you will be guaranteed an advance copy in your preferred format before it hits the public. In addition, you’ll be thanked by name in the dedication page, as a patron of the arts (and my personal savior).

 

$50 – Autograph & Special Invitation

By supporting the book at the $50 level you get all the benefits above as well as some special perks. Your advance copy will bear a “digital autograph”—a personal handwritten message from yours truly, digitally transposed into the book. You’ll also get a sneak peak of the manuscript before it’s finalized, with an invitation to comment and give feedback. You can help shape the final version of the book.

 

$75 – Limited Edition Private Collection

Patrons who offer $75 will receive everything above, plus a special gift. Bundled with your autographed, advance copy of Lúnasa Days you’ll find a private collection version of my short story Opus for Laura. This story is never before released, and will be presented as a full-color digital art book. I’m doing all the artwork myself. This is a limited edition version; only patrons will receive it.

[This level no longer available.]

Donations in other amounts are welcome too, and each one helps drive the writing forward. You can donate by clicking here.

I’m planning my next writing sabbatical, so I’m setting a goal of $300 in patronage. If that goal is met in two weeks, Lúnasa Days goes to the top of the docket.

Lúnasa Days will be a novella of some 80 pages. It’ll be available for the Kindle on Amazon, or as a .pdf. If the patronage goal is met I’d like to release it by October.

Other Ways

I realize that not everyone can support an author’s work like this, and some of you want to help  in other ways. Thank you! The very best way you can support the cause is to promote this post. Share it on Facebook and anywhere else you can, it means the world to me. You also help by buying the final book when it comes out, and leaving reviews on Amazon so more people hear about it.

This is your humble author, signing out. Please consider supporting, and thank you for all you do.


When the Heart Breaks: Lúnasa Days

The sun’s dying. The corn doesn’t know. It grows tall and green. The human heart knows. It stirs and it stirs.

There’s a dwindling in August. Sadness. And a loner on the roads.

He doesn’t know why he left. His life wasn’t bad. Everyone said he was good at his job, even his boss.

But when he was young he knew something. He had a fate, a reason to exist. It was as real as the pollen that made him sneeze. He never quite found it, his fate, and every autumn it slipped further away.

He stopped one day for food. A gas station, like any other. But the man there was friendly. He was bored. And he liked the look of the young guy with his bike, and he asked him questions.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

It was a hard question.

“Well, what do you do?”

The young man chewed his food. Vagabond. Can you say vagabond? Is that a career?

He looked off in the distance.

“I cast spells,” he said.

And the old man had some work for him.

I’m planning a novella, Lúnasa Days.

It’s a semi-fictional account of a bike ride in August, and a young man who casts spells for the people he meets.

Interested?


“Let’s Not Be Poor, Let’s Be Rich”

We sat in a café. Kaif leaned back in her chair.

“Well, I guess we’ll need money,” she said.

I got out a pad of paper. “Let’s see.”

We figured that if we made every sacrifice—lived somewhere shitty, split the rent, ate minimally, owned nothing and didn’t go out much—we could get by on a monthly income of $630.

This was before Milwaukee Stew. It was before Deployment. Actually, it was before I even quit my job.

A friend, fellow writer, and former student of mine, Kaif was interested. If I was going to quit my job and travel the world, she wanted in. For me it was a spiritual quest. I think it was for her, too.

It never worked out that way. Our plans would diverge within months, as plans do, and I haven’t seen her since that summer. But at the time, we intended to make our names.

When all the math was done, we looked at our monthly budget. Even a low-end part-time job would be enough.

“I think I can do that,” I said. “I can live lean if it’ll let me be a writer.”

She nodded. “We can be poor together.”

I raised my cuppa, cheers.

Thoughts came. A flame kind of burned up inside me. Everything I had been reading—about business, about self-publishing, about The Web—came tumbling through the fog. A sense of resolve. I looked up.

“But—”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What if we’re not poor. What if we’re rich.”

The conversation took a new turn. We began to talk blogging, self promotion, long tail, how to make a living without a big publisher. We got excited. We got planful. I believed it.

Actually, I still do.

It’s not an easy road. I learned how to write SEO articles, ad copy, stuff that would pay. By September I started freelancing, one $4 article at a time.

Savings disappeared. I had enough to live in Thailand, not quite enough for Mexico City. By the time I got back to the US I had to spend weeks hunting new clients. Blissfully, for a few short months, I had so much work that money wasn’t a source of stress.

In all this, I put off the dream. I made a living writing, sure, but not my writing. Ad copy is a job. It’s not my art or my novel, not a treatise on adventure or occult philosophy.

This week I’m writing nonstop. Sabbatical in Wisconsin. I have a tough choice. Clients are dried up again, so I should spend the week chasing new ones and doing paid work. But this is the best opportunity I’ll have to put that stuff aside and finish real writing, real art.

It’s publish or bust. I choose publish.


Stiletto Style

I’m in the race. The everyday race. I run to create the things I imagine. To finish them. It never works, there’s always one more to write. Then it’s time for the road again.

This has an effect. I stretch out stays at houses, apartments, homes of friends. I think there, in a haven, I’ll finally catch up. I fail. Always one more.

Why is this? In large part, my writing is a chronicle of my life. To record one’s life is a mathematic impossibility.

Filtering helps. Not every event is worth keeping. Not every thought is a conversation. But that’s the part I’m good at.

What else can I do? How can I write about my adventures, without hitting pause on living them? Well, a change in style might help.

I need to get out of the haven and move. And I want to tell the story. So I have to tell it fast. Quick, sharp, straight: a stiletto.

I have to out-Hemingway Ernest.


New Policy: No More Affiliate Links

Rogue Priest is the first real blog I ever started. Considering that it’s gone pretty well. Swimmingly in fact, and I owe that to all you awesome readers, adventurers, and encouragers who keep coming back for more.

But it hasn’t been without its learning curve.

Like any smart blogger, I read about how to do a blog “right”—how to be profesh and really engage your audience. It was helpful. I know how to lay out an article with pictures, headlines and boldface to really grab your attention.

See What I Did There?

But there’s a downside to that same “profesh” blogging approach, and that’s the emphasis on marketing.

I’ve used this space to promote paid products including books, courses and membership sites. There are three things to note about these products:

  • I usually got a kickback
  • I usually said up front that I was getting a kickback
  • All the products are things I personally endorse, and swear by in my own work

There’s nothing wrong with this kind of affiliate marketing. An author likes a product, the author has a chance to make some money endorsing the product, and the author is transparent about the whole thing: okay. That’s the way capitalism should work; that’s capitalism at its moral best.

But an author can do more than “just” be ethical.

An author can also inspire, build, set things in motion—or fail.

My goal is build the greatest living philosophy I can discover. A philosophy of adventure, transformation and selfless action. If I treat that as a brand, as designer-label ad space, I’m putting my career ahead of the philosophy.

By using affiliate marketing links I introduced a conflict of interest with my core goal. As soon as I’m earning a commission there has to be a question of motives—is this link really good for my readers, or do I just want a pay check? That kind of doubt doesn’t build fellowship.

So here is my new policy.

I will not place affiliate links in any Rogue Priest posts.

Not for anyone—no matter how good the product is, or how relevant it may be to my readers.

I feel no remorse about my past affiliate links: those products are awesome. If you joined Location Rebel, I’m glad you took such a big step for yourself and I hope you’re making money with it like I am. If you bought one of the ebooks, I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did. I stand by all the products I’ve promoted, but I don’t want marketing to distract from my purpose.

Corollaries:

  • I’m still a professional author and still intend to sell my own work.
  • I may still promote products I think you’ll like. But I will turn down the chance to make money doing so.
  • I understand why other bloggers choose to use affiliate marketing, and wish them only the best.

This policy introduces a new level of risk for me. Five weeks from starting the Great Adventure, I scramble to afford quality gear and make final preparations. Relinquishing an income stream is not strictly in my best interest.

So what’s my plan?

My plan is to make money not as a salesman, but as the philosopher you want to support. I have a new book about the Heroic Life on its way, and this one will be available for Kindle. I’m still working on a premium subscription for dispatches from the road, and continue to accept donations toward the Great Adventure.

In other words, I want to provide you the very best and most intimate access to the Adventure that I can offer, in the belief that it’s something worthy of your support.

Will that work? The Heroic Life says live for your ideals. Here’s me trying it.

If you enjoy reading Rogue Priest, believe in my journey, or just love seeing a spirited adventurer on the road, please consider making a donation to the cause. Your gift will help fund professional-quality equipment for the Great Adventure. It’ll keep me safe and help every step of the way.


Spending Respect

There’s a subset of the population that values manners in all things. They don’t use diminutive nicknames for the politicans they hate. When they sense invective and personal attacks they shy away from it, even the causes they agree with. This type of person can be among the strongest allies you’ll ever have if you take the time to phrase what you say in a measured way. If they speak up for you and support you, it’s because they agree with you at a deep level, and their loyalty is long-lasting.

There is also a subset of people who value vim and fire and can be rallied with anger. It’s easy to enlist their aid by spreading profanities, sarcasm, personal insults, and trigger phrases. This type of person isn’t there for you, they’re there for what they get out of it. Something emotional drives their engine whether they admit it or not. They can leave you as quick as they showed up. They are as likely to create turmoil as they are to actually help you.

You choose which kind of person you attract by the way you speak your truth. This applies at all levels, from how you fight with your ex to how you organize, grow, and advance a vast movement.

It’s worth considering which kind of base you feed with your words.


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