Sure, the Bible sequel didn’t pan out. Seems the church wasn’t willing to sponsor the project and adamantly refused to do weekly readings from the new “good book.” Fine. I can live with it. Also, editing the new book with a million covers and titles has proven disheartening, and the publisher is prepared to just call it Swill and release it without my approval. You know what? That’s fine, too. Cause I’ve concocted my surest firest success yet.
Yep, I’m going to get into the world of crank-‘em-out mystery novels. You know the kind – woman in her forties goes into a bookstore, says to herself that she’s looking for something that “looks like something I’d read.” They hit upon the mystery section – bingo! – find a book that seems to have a pattern in its title, almost guaranteeing an extended trip with the same characters down non surprising roads for many books to come, and next thing you know, this slightly pre-menopausal lady is out on the back porch, reading about some taxidermist getting himself stuffed in a department store, populated by wacky employees, and bringing in a wacky detective with wacky neuroses, making for interesting reading and light, fluffy evenings of enjoyment.
How hard could it possibly be? I’ve never even considered writing a mystery novel, but honestly, it’s gotta be ridiculously easy. I’ve read a few of the cheesy variety and you don’t even need a twisty plot. All it requires is a quirky enough detective and a catchy title. So let’s formulate this strategy. Continue reading
Knowingly Undersold 