C h a z z W r i t e s . c o m

Write and publish with love and fury.

#Giveaway: The Free Download Experiment

I’m conducting an experiment with my blogs and Vine account with this giveaway.

I’m giving Murders Among Dead Trees to you for free until midnight May 13th on Amazon (assuming that you might like weird suspense with 57 flavors.)

This gift is coming and going fast (that’s part of the experiment), so please act now and click the pretty cover. Hope you love it.

 

Free until midnight May 13!

Free until midnight May 13!

There’s lot of strangeness in Murders Among Dead Trees.

It’s huge, so if you don’t like the flavor of one story, the next one might appeal to the inner demon you’re pretending isn’t there. (That’s adorable, by the way.)

If you like the book, please review it.

Thanks! Enjoy!

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We now interrupt this program with tofu goats and what can be done about the Apocalypse

Free until tonight at midnight! Enjoy the last Christmas giveaway while you can.

Free until Friday at midnight! Enjoy the last Christmas giveaway while you can.

And now, to avoid the Apocalypse, I’m asking for a small sacrifice:

Could you please go to this link for Murders Among Dead Trees and click it to get it?

(In the UK, use this link to drink my hot chocolate stories of Bad versus Evil.)

 This collection of short stories is free

until Friday, December 21st at midnight

and packed with awesome fiction about friction. It’s often paranormal or at least strange. Everything looks normal until you look closer. I revised, edited again, added a sneak peek of a future book and topped it off with lots of behind-the-curtains commentary. 

Also appreciated:

Click the LIKE button or add it to your wish list. Even if you hate my stinking guts and won’t get it or ever read it, this is a rare situation where wishing helps. Finally, you could even click the “Agree with these tags” button toward the bottom of the page. These things help get Amazon’s attention.

It’s that or the Mayan Apocalypse, people! Or send a virgin goat to appease me…oh. That sounded bad. I should be clear that I intend to eat these goats, so a virgin tofu goat would also do nicely. Thank you.

That’s right. I’m so damn powerful, I can stop the Apocalypse, but to move up the Amazon rankings by giving away stuff for free? Surprisingly difficult. These are some quirky superpowers I’m rocking here.

Okay, look. I don’t want anyone to worry and I’m not going to lie to you. Whether you help out or not, I promise to save the earth from the angry Mayan god, Lex Luthor or Galactus or whatever. I don’t really expect payment for doing the right thing. Like Spider-Man, “Action is his reward” and all that. Sigh…still…well, just so you know I’m not totally douchey, that’s all. Thanks for your help if you so choose. Thanks for your consideration.

PS: Virgin Tofu Goats is the new name for my band. 

PPS: Won’t it be great to get past this? We’ve had a year of talk about the Mayan Apocalypse and after this, we’ll never have to hear a word about the Mayans again. You’re a footnote of a hoax of history and superstition! Take that Mayans! You and your funny plant hats. Ha!

"You will laugh your ass off!" ~ Author of Cybrgrrl, Maxwell Cynn

“You will laugh your ass off!” ~ Author of Cybrgrrl, Maxwell Cynn

~Robert Chazz Chute is a crime novelist and suspense author who just received two new five-star reviews for the Hit Man Series books, but his bestseller is still Self-help for Stoners. (You don’t have to be a stoner to love it.) He’s still feeling so good about these developments, he’s writing about himself in the third person. Weird. And all that goat talk steered in a disturbing direction for a moment there, didn’t it? Hear his podcasts or learn more about all his books at AllThatChazz.com.

Filed under: publishing, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Another Slice of the Writing Life: Everlast is my soundtrack

A quick-moving plot with lots of surprises and a clear-eyed examination of addiction.

A quick-moving plot with lots of surprises and a clear-eyed examination of addiction.

Listening to: Everlast‘s I Get By

Thinking about: My to-do list

Wishing I had: A to-don’t list

Regretting: How much Christmas shopping I had to do at the Dollar Store

Impressed by: How much Christmas shopping I did at the Dollar Store

Believing in: The power of Coffee and what we can do for each other

Daunted by: How many steps I have to take to satisfy the Fitbit‘s demand of 10,000 steps today

Looking forward to: Writing Hollywood Jesus

Feeling bad about: My little boy asked if I would work through Christmas Eve (No. I’ll be with you and the family, son. Promise.)

Grateful for: Readers and listeners

Hoping for: Happy buyers, Likes & getting added to Wish Lists

Waiting for: A mailing address to send off a promo copy of Higher Than Jesus

Scared of: Revising my apocalyptic coming-of-age thriller (It’s ambitious and huge)

Glad of: Completing the last (and maybe the oddest) All That Chazz podcast of 2012

Sad about: Newtown

Happy about: The Masquerade Crew helping to make My Year in Indie Publishing: Lessons learned go viral

Ecstatic about: ChazzWrites.com is a finalist for Best Self-publishing Blog of 2012 (and please consider reading the blogs on this list.)

Getting: Back to work

Murders+Among+Dead+Trees+1121-1~ Robert Chazz Chute is a crime novelist and suspense writer who has eight books for sale, one of which is free until Friday at midnight. Get a detailed rundown on the paranormal suspense and strange contemporary fiction in Murders Among Dead Trees here.

Or take a darn chance and download Murders Among Dead Trees free here. 

Filed under: publishing, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Not Free Much Longer: The Dangerous Kind & Other Stories

The Dangerous Kind & Other Stories (2nd Edition) is free for the last time for just a bit longer.

Here’s an excerpt I’m sure many writers can relate to.

Grab The Dangerous Kind & Other Stories here.

Stay-at-home dad.

40.

Broke.

This is not the future I did not plan. The future I did not plan, but thought somehow would take care of itself, is not taking care of itself. Squeegee kids aren’t broke like me. They aren’t still paying for a vacuüm they bought on credit last Christmas. Credit card debt is kicking my ass, or was, until my dad intervened and I discovered there are prices to be paid which are much higher than the interest on VISA.

I have no excuses and, like the rest of my generation, no clue. My wife, Cecelia, has a nursing job at an old folk’s home and I take little freelance editing jobs here and there. My main occupation is to watch our two boys and rub Cecilia’s feet when she gets home after a long shift. We have her tiny retirement investment plan. The statements go unread because neither of us read Bewilder, an alphanumeric language only understood by people in the financial services industry. We hope it works out.

My father learned his financial skills from his parents during the Depression. Grandpa was an Episcopalian preacher in Poeticule Bay before the roads were paved, when everything arrived by boat. The congregation often fed the minister’s family with cod and lobsters rather than feed the collection plate a few coins. Dad scraped up a little money here and there and somehow became what it seems no one can be anymore: The mythic Self-made Man.

Dad would lie in bed and plot his escape from poverty while his brother counted pennies into a mason jar each night. Childhood was so short then, it was almost imperceptible. They did escape. My father’s generation had smaller dreams and the discipline and savvy to make those lies true. They made something of themselves and I have no idea what that might feel like. Instead of selling things, my wife and I had kids and bought stuff off the TV because that was our little slice of the American dream. We trusted the Future, but the banks killed it and the government never arrested anyone for Future’s murder.

My uncle is still alive, too. He gambles his ample retirement fund with various Vegas casinos and heart by-pass specialists. Dad and Mum were snowbirds. After she died, he gave up on Poeticule Bay, Maine permanently and moved to Boca. He watches the sunrise and the sunset, takes pictures of pelicans wheeling over the water like pterodactyls and ponders his only son’s squandered potential.

“We never needed much, certainly not near as much as kids today think they need. I still don’t need much,” Dad says. “If it comes down to it, I could live off a greased rag for a month.”

Dad’s speaking to me over the phone, but he sounds like he could be talking to himself. I guess that’s true since, while he talks, I’m thinking of my boys and how all their friends have iPods now. The technological future is finally here and the party rages on without my kids.

Dad graduated from pennies to folding money, mason jars to stock portfolios. When I was a kid asking for a few dollars to buy something, his answer was always the same. “Why do you think you need that, boy?”

I was not deprived exactly. Dad provided clothes, food and shelter. But my wants? My wants eclipsed the sun. I wanted to fill my room with books and toys and music because that is how you buy happiness. Less is not more. Less is less.

My father wanted my childhood to be as short as his was and my room to be as bare as a monk’s meditation chamber. I denied him that satisfaction so long, I still don’t feel like a man. And yes, he still calls me “Boy.”

In this book, people are desperate to escape small-town Maine and maybe even elude themselves. The novella, The Dangerous Kind, is psychological mayhem and my tribute to Stephen King’s suspense.

Dad owned Poeticule Bay’s only hardware store. Early each morning he went off to work freshly shaved and optimistic. Each night he shambled home to supper, miserable. By the last spoonful of dessert he resolved that tomorrow would be better. What I did not understand then was that the tomorrow he was thinking about was the far-off tomorrow, the arthritic future wandering Floridian beaches alone collecting shells.

Retirement is not in my future. I have fitful dreams of being a writer. That is the same retreating mirage I saw on the distant horizon when I was eight. There are haphazard moments of clarity when I compose eagerly. Then I turn on the TV and fall asleep. Words with promise have died. Clever lines form skeins of sentences. I reach in spasms. I worry I’m already too late. The bills mark time.

Awake and rubbing my eyes, I am smack in middle age on the brink of last chances. I am halfway between those early promises and the sum of me. That distant horizon still recedes. I am not a bestselling author whose book is soon to be a major motion picture. I’m not even a grown-up.

Yet.

In this frame of mind, I made excuses to Dad why I could not load the whole family in a jet and wing off south for a visit. I let slip that I could not come because my wife and I had to pay off credit cards. I said too damn much.

Dad called back at seven the next morning. My debt had been gnawing at him through the night. The kids were still in bed so I was, too. “Time you got up, boy! I suppose Cecilia was at work an hour ago!”

He’s not big on preambles. Why don’t I have call display on the phone by the bed?

I didn’t tell him I was up till three last night writing. That would just be another mistake to hold on to and bring up at Christmas. “Is the book done yet? When do we see it in stores and how much will you be paid? How much, boy? That doesn’t sound like much.”

I thought about telling him the kids were painting each other with glue again and that I had to hang up. I didn’t, though. I listened because he was talking about giving me money. His was a generous offer of an interest-free loan to kill the credit cards and raise the possibility of a future without debt.

I’ll owe him.

Instead.

Again.

I said I’d think about it, like I still had a choice and pride.

Later, when I looked upon my innocent boys’ debt-free faces, I had to remember how to build a smile. Each grim facial reconstruction soon fell from my lips and I had to rearrange my face again. When they want the latest robot dinosaur, will my card be maxed out again? Will their memory of me be The Failure Who Always Said No? How different is that from the Self-made Man who says, “Why do you think you need that, boy?”

What will happen when they grow up? When they go to college and fall into the same — or a deeper — debt trap, I will pull them out of that hole if I have a rope. No money? No rope. No hope. There lies the soul of shame’s pain.

Each New Year’s Eve, Cecilia and I say this will be the year we “get some breathing room.” We’ll save money…somehow. We’ll win the lottery or I’ll sell my novel or…something. What’s likely to change since we aren’t doing anything different? We never speak of this secret aloud for fear that, like some magic curse, the danger will only be made real in the speaking.

I’m worried about the slow, spreading stain in the bedroom ceiling. Will roofers even accept a credit card? How much will new eaves troughs cost? Will the furnace die this winter?

“How much?” Dad asked.

“Ten thousand,” I said. I braced myself but he did not say anything. The weight of the silence on the phone line stretched out. His disappointment was that heavy. My scalp burned and my body felt skinned by rusty carrot scrapers. “Five hundred a month okay?” I ventured.

“Yeah,” he said. “Promise you’ll cut up your credit cards?”

The next pause was mine, the startled kind.

“Yes,” I lied. What if I have to rent a car or get a hotel room for some ugly, unforeseen reason? I think about the roof, the furnace, the eaves troughs, the latest dinosaur robot and the look on my boys’ faces when a classmate gets a new computer. My father will not understand why I will never cut up my credit cards.

I must have that safety net for emergencies, even if it could hang me. I could try to explain my situation, what my real life is like. That’s definitely what I should do.

“Um…Dad?”

Go ahead, I say to myself, sweating and now out of my body. Tell him! Tell him that the best things in life aren’t free! Tell him iPods buy love and happiness. Explain how you’re asking for $10,000 because that’s all your stupid pride can bear to ask but you could ask for twice as much and still not cover your debt! Tell him there’s little hope but you wish he shared your dreams for success, anyway. Give him another reason to call you “Boy.”

“Yeah?” he says.

All he’s got waiting for you is the sucker punch of a loan, judgement and condemnation.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Yeah.”

I hang up the phone, my head hot and pounding. The kids are watching a SpongeBob rerun. My wife won’t be back from work for another hour. I could steal a nap.

Instead, I sit down. I dream big.

I write.

Grab The Dangerous Kind & Other Stories here.

 

Filed under: publishing, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Author interview with Robert Chazz Chute

Over at Forgotten Realms, a fun interview awaits, including why the people at Staples were so mean to me last week.

I’d never been asked free association questions before. Tarek asked  “Child?” I thought “Money.” “Ocean?” “My answer was, “South Pacific”, but I meant the musical. My next thought was SpongeBob. Of course I also talk about Higher Than Jesus: bigger, even funnier, more hardboiled, more skip tracer tricks and The Major Chapter of Sex will melt your wallpaper.

By the way, Bigger Than Jesus, the first funny, clever, hardboiled thriller in the Hit Man Series is free this week! That’s right! FREE, until Nov. 9. Click it to grab it. If you love it, please review it. Thanks! 

Filed under: Author profiles, Books, , , , , , , , , , ,

Links-a-plenty: Giveaway, coffee for weight loss, video & becoming more like Joe Rogan

Read my interview and enter to win free ebooks on Jo Michael’s blog today. I get to talk about ninja monkeys, social media and

First it was kale shakes. Buttered bulletproof coffee is next!

what’s next for me, my hit man and all the people we’re going to kill together. 

On AllThatChazz.com, I’ve got:

1. An article for you on drinking coffee to lose weight and growing your brain.

2. A podcast of one of my favorite chapters from Bigger Than Jesus. It’s dark and creepy and action-packed and, if you haven’t slipped into the warm pool of sexual chocolate that is my first crime novel, you can listen to this stand alone chapter to get the flavor of my Cuban hit man’s scary childhood. You even find out Jesus’s full name.

3. Check the video to get your first sneak peek of the sexy cover for Higher Than Jesus (launching next week!).

4. I got some unexpected, teary inspiration from Here Comes the Boom! Flick your switch and be more Rogan.

5. While you’re perusing the many podcast and book offerings at AllThatChazz.com, please do sign up for my newsletter. I won’t pester you, but when you sign up (on the left by my stylish photo), you’re up for giveaways and news about what’s exciting at Ex Parte Press. I’m releasing five books this fall, so lots of fun is on the way. 

UPDATE: Forgot to mention, if you sign up for my newsletter, your website gets a free mention on the All That Chazz podcast. Also, for a couple more days, I’m still taking “Praise for ChazzWrites.com” for two upcoming books about writing and publishing, inspired by and boiled down from this blog. One happy blog review gets you in the books along with a plug for your book! Jump on it!

 Excelsior!

Scoop.it

Filed under: publishing, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Amazon: My last stab

GET BIGGER THAN JESUS, FREE ON AMAZON TODAY, TOMORROW AND FRIDAY

Free promotions sure aren’t what they used to be. Last December, with Amazon’s old algorithm, friends of mine made big money. Success on the free list actually translated to success on the paid list. Then everything changed and many of us have been slow to react, me included. I notice that, among my writer friends, many (most?) are selling their books on KDP Select exclusively, five free days and all, for the first three months and then they aren’t renewing with KDP. They’ll continue to sell on Amazon, but there are plenty of other places to sell besides Amazon. After that first three months of trying to take advantage of the Amazon advantage, they put their work up everywhere else, too. That’s what I’m doing with the foundation book of my crime novel series, Bigger Than Jesus.

BY THE WAY: 

Bigger Than Jesus is available for free in ebook form

until Friday, and then that’s it.

As The Hit Man Series continues, I don’t know if I’ll go exclusive at all, even for those first three months. The math just doesn’t seem to add up to a marketing strategy that’s advantageous. In truth, it hasn’t been helpful to many indie authors for some time. I stuck with it because of the timing as my previous books launched. I have three books to release before Christmas and the eggs won’t be going into one basket anymore.

Someone asked me recently, “What’s the latest success strategy for indie authors?” I encountered some resistance when I replied, “There isn’t one.” We’ve had the publicists, advertising, press releases, blogging, podcasting, Twitter (and various  derivative Twitter strategies), Facebook, Pinterest (maybe?), the 99 cent strategy, blog tours, free, Goodreads, book bloggers, etc,…. Some combination of these elements may work for someone. Though they’ve all been effective for someone individually in the past, no one strategy seems to deliver a knock-out punch. When I say there isn’t one, I don’t rule out the possibility of their effectiveness in the plural, if you have the time to do all that. (You don’t. Go write instead.) 

Which brings up the question: Will Amazon change its algorithm again so it makes sense for us to stay exclusive with KDP Select? Who knows? Amazon’s algorithms and their rationale may be deduced, but are never made explicit. That information is solely on a need-to-know basis. (Apparently, we don’t need to know.)

Amazon is good at what they do — or has been — but it’s unreasonable to expect they’ll be right all the time, even with their vast resources. More to the point, Amazon’s looking out for Amazon, not me. My evidence is they aren’t making the exclusivity clause worth it for a lot of authors (even the true believers who, in the past, made a lot of dough.) I’m losing sales on other devices because I’m not selling enough with KDP. The Amazon sales don’t make up for lost sales elsewhere. Listening to my writer buddies, it’s clear I’m not alone in that assessment.

This is a business decision and has nothing to do with damning Amazon. I’m not one of the haters whining about monopolies and painting Amazon as a bully. The market is a competition and Amazon is on top because they made a lot of great decisions early on. However, I’m not looking for a new mom to take care of me, either. Being indie doesn’t mean supplanting one boss with a new boss just because it’s easy to go on inertia and formatting anew is a pain in the ass. Next month, as soon as my three months are up, Bigger Than Jesus will be available more widely (Hello Kobo, Nook, Sony, your smart phone, your iPhone, your iPad…maybe even your toaster.)

As for book marketing’s next knock out punch? People will tell you they know what the next big thing is. Some will even try to sell you books based on giving away one ultimate secret of indie author success. I think those people are often well-intentioned and they give out a lot of good information. I’ve read a bunch about marketing ebooks lately and, frankly, I’m also skeptical about some of those easy, plug-and-play answers.

Only one strategy I know of seems like anything close to a sure thing and (WARNING!) it’s a slow, steady grind. It’s not a popular idea because it’s not easy and quick. 

Write more books.

(Do a great job!)

Put them up.

(Do what promotion you can that doesn’t interfere with your writing schedule.)

Write more books.

(Make sure they are wonderful.)

I aspire to inspire, but as for marketing? Hm. Sorry.

“Write more books” is honestly all I’ve got in stock at the moment.

I’ve said it before and it’s still all I have to say on that subject.

Filed under: publishing, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Winner of Writer's Digest's 2014 Honorable Mention in Self-published Ebook Awards in Genre

The first 81 lessons to get your Buffy on

More lessons to help you survive Armageddon

"You will laugh your ass off!" ~ Maxwell Cynn, author of Cybergrrl

Available now!

Fast-paced terror, new threats, more twists.

An autistic boy versus our world in free fall

Suspense to melt your face and play with your brain.

Action like a Guy Ritchie film. Funny like Woody Allen when he was funny.

Jesus: Sexier and even more addicted to love.

For my author site and the Chazz network, click the blood spatter below.

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