publishing
Smile!
Categories: Deadgirl, News, publishing, writing
Tags: b.c. johnson, bc johnson, bobby johnson, dead girl ghost light, dead girl sequel, deadgirl, deadgirl ghostlight, deadgirl sequel, ghostlight, lucy, lucy day, phantom, pies
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The Asshole’s Guide to Editing: #4
Previous Guides: #1, #2, and #3.
Last time: Solin walked down a single street. No, seriously. Also he vaulted over a cow, I guess?
EXCERPT
The Morali land was large, but Solin was soon at his destination (passive – watch those “was”es). A copse of trees rose up in the middle of the plains, following the course of a wide stream that broke off of the Sabrienne river to the east. As he got closer he slowed down, both for fear of disturbing his friend and simple exhaustion. He slowed to a jog, and finally a brisk walk (unnecessary comma, the sequel), allowing his muscles to stretch out and his blood to slow down. (Okay. This is a common move I still have to try hard to keep out of my writing. So first I said “he slowed down.” Then, in the next sentence, I DESCRIBE what slowing down is. In case you don’t know. It’s partially my tendency to over-explain, and partially an artifact from the first draft. This kind of thing is okay in a first draft because it’s really just telling the story to yourself. Later drafts need to be leaner. Take out the tell “he slowed down” and leave a punchier remnant of the show, like “His run decayed into a jog, then a leisurely stroll.”) It felt good to be tired, properly exhausted. Solin didn’t fear toil; he was just terrible at it. (STAHP. We get it. We all get it.)
Categories: publishing, The Asshole's Guide to Editing, writing
Tags: advice, assholes guide to editing, b.c. johnson, deadgirl, editing, writing
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A Selfless Reminder
Just a completely altruistic, non self-serving reminder that the sequel to a book I wrote is coming out in one month. Which I also wrote. I wrote both, is what I’m saying.
Categories: Books, Deadgirl, publishing, writing
Tags: adventure, b.c. johnson, deadgirl, deadgirl ghostlight, ghost, ghostlight, lucy day, supernatural, thriller, writing, young adult
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Distress Call: Help Needed
A
ttention! I am trying to win a contest to get a new book published and supported by Nerdist. The top five people who get the most pre-orders will get published, and the winner gets Nerdist support. If the book doesn’t make it, you won’t be charged the pre-order amount. So it’ll only cost you if the book actually wins, and then hey, you get a book out of it.
Pretty please click here to check the book out, check out the premise, cover, and first chapter, and if it sounds like something you wanna read (or you just like my furry face), please give it a pre-order.
In advance, you rock, and your whole face is aesthetically pleasing.
Also I’ll try to spam less and deliver actual blogposts. Thanks again!
Categories: Books, Diary, News, publishing
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My first book signing’s on June 27th!
So, I’m having a book signing. My first one, actually. And, as the Aztec Eagle God of Fate, Tetzlilopuatli, would have it, it’s also my 30th birthday!
The only present I want for this auspicious day is to see your relatively good-looking face. Come chat with me, take a look at the book, get some free bookmarks, whatevs.
Categories: publishing
Tags: b.c. johnson, book, book signing, california, dead girl, deadgirl, laguna hills, local author, young adult
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Reactions in a DeLorean
Yesterday I signed my first book deal. I had reactions of my own, namely extreme excitement combined with an odd sensation of worrying vertigo. It turns out finding the handle of one of your dreams and finally getting a grip on it is just as terrifying as it is satisfying – I find myself thinking of the work ahead. Of which there is plenty: having signed with a small company, I’m about to get an exciting crash course in marketing.
It doesn’t feel like a brass ring, or like a lottery ticket. It feels like another step, if it is a by-and-large HUGE and wonderful step filled with bacon cheeseburgers and puppies and happy things. It made me wonder, what would previous incarnations of myself think?
26 and 7
Bobby (26) : “Hey, seven-year-old me! We finally got published!”
Bobby (7) : “Well duuuuh. Was your story about cats or penguins, like my story?”
Bobby (26): “Sorry bud. I’m afraid I’ve pretty much retired myself from ‘anthropomorphic animals go somewhere wacky’ genre.”
Bobby (7): “I don’t even know who you are. Is Raphael still your favorite ninja turtle?”
Bobby (26): “Well, obviously.”
Bobby (7): “Wanna play Power Rangers? I’m the Red Ranger!”
Bobby (26): “What? That’s ridiculous . . . I’m the Red Ranger.”
26 and 12
Bobby (26) : “Hey, twelve-year-old me! We finally got published!”
Bobby (12): “Yeah, sure. Hey, so you’re from the future then?”
Bobby (26) : “Obviously.”
Bobby (12): “So . . . wow, you’re tall.”
Bobby (26): “Very true. I know you’re shorter than all the girls right now, and pretty fat, and your haircut is . . . really, a ponytail? Anyway, it gets a lot better.”
Bobby (12): “We’re still fat, I see.”
Bobby (26): “Well, we get much thinner. Then after high school we get REALLY fat, but then we get thin again. Now we’re somewhere in the middle because – you know what? Listen. That’s not really what I’m here to talk about. I’m saying – ”
Bobby (12): “Quiet. Be honest with me. Have we touched a booby yet? Don’t bullshit me here.”
Bobby (26): “That’s not really important – ”
Bobby (12): “You shut your cow mouth. Boobies. Touched. Go.”
Bobby (26): “Little Bobby . . . ”
Bobby (12): “Remember how much I’m getting bullied right now? I will end you.”
Bobby (26): “Well . . . yeah. All the time. It’s pretty awesome.”
Bobby (12): “WoooooOOOOO!”
Bobby (26): “Sigh”
26 and 16
Bobby (26): “Hey, sixteen-year-old Bobby! We just got published!”
Bobby (16): “Um, how old are you?”
Bobby (26): “I’m . . . twenty six. I’m twenty six. Why?”
Bobby (16): “So, we got published like, again?”
Bobby (26): “What do you mean ‘again’?”
Bobby (16): “You published like, your ninth book, right?”
Bobby (26): “No, it’s the first one. I dont . . . ”
Bobby (16): “THE FIRST ONE? Are you HIGH?”
Bobby (26): “We don’t really get into drugs – ”
Bobby (16): “You, just now, ten years from now, publish your first book. Wow. Wow On a Pogo Stick. Were you kidnapped somewhere in the intervening years? Did you overcome a debilitating illness? Fight in a war?”
Bobby (26): “No, no, and no. It’s a slow process, dude.”
Bobby (16): “Most authors write a book in a year, right? How many books have been fully completed in ten years?”
Bobby (26): “Hold on. A book a year is pretty fast. And besides, you don’t start seriously writing for another four years.”
Bobby (16): “What? Why?! Oh, oh. College. Right. I guess that makes sense.”
Bobby (26): “Oh, uh . . . ”
Bobby (16): “What? Oh what now? You didn’t GO TO COLLEGE?!”
Bobby (26): “I went . . .”
Bobby (16): “Oh Jesus, man.”
Bobby (26): “So, to uh, answer your earlier question . . . two books.”
Bobby (16): “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore.”
Bobby (26): “I’m sorry, dude.”
Bobby (16): “You know what? Whatever. What’s the booby situation?”
Bobby (26): “Excellent, really.”
Bobby (16): “One out of three ain’t bad, I guess. We have a show tonight, wanna come? It’ll freak everyone out.”
Bobby (26): “Sure! I’ll jump and be like ‘I’m from the future, where the zombies are! Ahhhhh!'”
Bobby (16): “Ha, nice. There aren’t . . . ”
Bobby (26): “No, no zombies. But I’ve got some bad news for you about vampire movies . . . “
Categories: publishing, second manuscript, writing
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Elations
Let’s not bury the lead: I think I may be in the last few hours of one of the best days of my life.
So far, obviously. Someday when I’m riding a pterodactyl into a week-long game of naked laser tag (in space!), I’ll look back on this auspicious Wednesday and think: Was there really a time before I had a pterodactyl? What in the hell did I spend all of my time doing back then? Not riding pterodactyls, that’s what.
First off: I nailed a job interview. This is the least exciting of the three things that made my day, though noteworthy, certainly.
My agent also sent me a publishing contract, which is a sentence I’ve wanted to write my whole life. Eight months ago I didn’t have a contract, or an agent. Just two manuscripts (one particularly dusty, and liable to stay that way) sitting in my hard drive, playing harmonica and singing prison songs. But not like, “Jail House Rock” prison songs. The sad ones, about “nobody knowing” and the like. A miserable state, happily ended.
The funny thing is, we haven’t decided if we’re taking the contract. Lots of questions still to be had, especially for a raw green publishing newbie like myself. Percentages, rights, maths – all of the stuff I spent most of my academic career trying to get the hell away from. My agent and I are talking about small presses and big presses and working out the details but here’s the best part:
None of that matters.
My worst case scenario at the moment is getting published.
The third thing that put a nice fucking cherry on top of all of this: today was the last day of NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. And I finished, at around nine o’clock. 50,000 words this month.
I’m feeling lucky. Tired. Filled with a voice telling me to enjoy the moment, which is so not a problem. I tried to watch TV, I tried to play some PS3, I tried to tell myself that now was the time to take a much needed break from writing.
So naturally I came here, to type it out.
Fuckin’ writers.
Categories: first manuscript, publishing, writing
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Genesis (Not Sega)
I blog, therefore, I am.
I’ve had a few blogs before, here and there, scraps of personal info or jokes or comics starring action figures (hilarious, but unprofitable).
I’m first and foremost a writer, and I thought I’d use this particular space to shake loose all the random thoughts, memories, and sea-shanties pertaining to that most hallowed profession. Well, maybe not most hallowed. I mean, we authors basically enjoy “lying to people“ and “wearing sweatpants,” and other than drug-dealer, writer is the only job that allows for both in great quantities.
I’m B.C. Johnson, and I’ll be your host this evening. Actually it’s the middle of the day, and I’m supposed to be working on my manuscript. But I couldn’t help myself – today, I received my first offer to be published(!). A contract is in the mail, folks, and I almost exploded from sheer childish explosive, exploding glee. Whether I’ll be signing it has a lot to do with stuff out my hands, the content of the contract, how many sheep it requires I trade them, etc.
I told my agent I wouldn’t mind being paid in Assassin’s Creed games and Buffy Blurays, but apparently that isn’t “industry standard.”
My first novel sits on my hard drive and in a box, where it will likely remain until the Earth is taken over by Morlocks. My second novel, however, is out there. And someone wants it. Its a difficult feeling to express, but its sort of like OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHOOOOLLLLYYYCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP.
Basically.
When my brain remembers how to function properly, I’ll be back here to try to sort it all out.
– B.C. Johnson
Categories: first manuscript, publishing, second manuscript, writing
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Deadgirl
Meet the girl who just won't die . . .
Deadgirl: Ghostlight
All the world's a stage
Deadgirl: Goneward
On the road again...
Deadgirl: Daybreak
We all go a little mad sometimes
Deadgirl: Gravedust
This is the end, my friend
B.C. Johnson 