I'm Going To Do The Forbidden
As you know, all the best books of advice on how to run one’s newsletter say to never, ever ever ever — did I say EVER? — use your newsletter to promote your friends.
It’s almost as much of a no no as writing only when you have a book to push. (Be fair, I’m trying to do them more often.)
Anyway, you know how I am about being told what I can and can’t do.
So, my friend John Ringo has started a substack, where he’s doing a bit more than “just” serializing a novel. It’s the equivalent of those people who wrote stories in public and answered questions and suggestions.
He’s assembling his novel in public. Go look over his place.
In the future I see these big Iron Author competitions where five of us do this at once on substack:
Today’s contestants have to create a novel involving a cat, a flea allergy and three umbrellas.
Over here is Marcy, who only writes about cats and flea allergies. Look, she is smiling as she writes the tenth chapter of Murdered By Fleas. Look at her impressive typing speed.
Alastair, who is known for novels about international spies and gorgeous honeypots is having a little more trouble. Not only do we not think The Spy Who Scratched the Cat will ever make history, but honestly? He’s stuck at about 10k words and his laptop cam shows him pulling out vast tufts of hair .
Meanwhile Tristan, heretrofore known for writing nonfiction book disasters is flying away with “Cats and Fleas on a Plane, an umbrella mystery.”
Yes? No? I should take three aspirin and hope it treats insanity?
Due to various (argh) famiy things — and I think I caught younger son’s flu — Dyce is not ready to go up and I’m very upset at myself.
Anyway, I promised Kitten pics!
Hellen might be “a daughter of the gods, divinely fair” but …. look at all those TEETH. Toofs!
And LIKE Pol’s core competency:
As always thanks to Cedar Sanderson for fostering them till we can pick them up. And I can’t wait.