Big Doings!
As of Aug. 11, Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen turns 1!
The book is now on sale for $8.99.
I'm kicking off a new round of promotion as well.
FIRST, some details on the sale and promotion. (I'll post on the anniversary issue separately. It's quite a story and you'll want to take a breather before reading it, believe me.)
SALE DETAILS: My publisher (PublishAmerica, or, PrintAmerica as I [ahem] affectionately call them), has issued Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen for $8.99 as of July 2009.
The original $27.95 sale price was absurd to begin with. Further, their method of accounting for sales through the UK, where the dollar has taken a beating as of late, left me with little more than change for coffee when my first, uh, "royalty check" arrived.
Oh well, live and learn I suppose. Iconic TV mom Carol Brady once opined: "Poorer or wiser, which is more important?" Hmmm, I'll get back to you all on that one....
However, whether it's the summer heat, the anemic sales to date, or some other reason, you the reader benefit. Simply go to http://www.publishamerica.com/, search either by my name, or the title, and order the book, and you will get the reduced price.
For some reason, the online bookstores still have it at full price.
Details on the promo tour next....
Cheers,
Kenneth James Kirsch
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Have You Seen Me Lately?
Well, February's come and gone and nary an entry from me.
There's been no news on the Demon front this month to report, that is, until now...
It's Sequel Time: Inspiration can strike a writer anywhere. The idea for a sequel to Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen hit me while I was on the R6 Septa line commuting to work in Philadelphia one day last week. I scratched out a few ideas, wrote a few opening paragraphs, and now I'm off to the races.
The working title is The Ballad of JJ Henko. James Joseph Henko is the son of Demon protagonist Leysa Henko. The next generation of Henkos takes Leysa's addictions and abusive personality to an extreme. If you read Demon you may have gotten the idea that the insidious disease of alcoholism can be overcome as easily as a happy ending can be written into a book. Not true in real life, my friends. At least not in JJ Henko's case.
On the publishing front: lessons learned -- this time around, no PublishAmerica. While I appreciate them taking a flyer on this returning writer, their non-existent editorial department left my manuscript with more than a few embarrassing grammatical scars. And the royalties.... uh, anybody seen my royalties?
A New Round of Promotion: After a serious case of the Winter Blahs, I'm revving up the old promotion engine again for Demon. I'm hoping to get a publisher or agent interested in the sequel early in the drafting process.
I'll be appearing on the monthly chat schedule of The Red River Writers. You can find them on Facebook. They do chat sessions with authors and I'm going to be appearing in March. Stay tuned. I will provide details as they become available.
That's all for now. Come on Spring!
There's been no news on the Demon front this month to report, that is, until now...
It's Sequel Time: Inspiration can strike a writer anywhere. The idea for a sequel to Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen hit me while I was on the R6 Septa line commuting to work in Philadelphia one day last week. I scratched out a few ideas, wrote a few opening paragraphs, and now I'm off to the races.
The working title is The Ballad of JJ Henko. James Joseph Henko is the son of Demon protagonist Leysa Henko. The next generation of Henkos takes Leysa's addictions and abusive personality to an extreme. If you read Demon you may have gotten the idea that the insidious disease of alcoholism can be overcome as easily as a happy ending can be written into a book. Not true in real life, my friends. At least not in JJ Henko's case.
On the publishing front: lessons learned -- this time around, no PublishAmerica. While I appreciate them taking a flyer on this returning writer, their non-existent editorial department left my manuscript with more than a few embarrassing grammatical scars. And the royalties.... uh, anybody seen my royalties?
A New Round of Promotion: After a serious case of the Winter Blahs, I'm revving up the old promotion engine again for Demon. I'm hoping to get a publisher or agent interested in the sequel early in the drafting process.
I'll be appearing on the monthly chat schedule of The Red River Writers. You can find them on Facebook. They do chat sessions with authors and I'm going to be appearing in March. Stay tuned. I will provide details as they become available.
That's all for now. Come on Spring!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Excerpt II from Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen
Nothing like giving away the ole' store for free, eh? This excerpt is from Chapter 4, A Deep Sleep, and is one of the pivotal scenes of the story. Leysa Henko ponders death and its permanence at her mother's funeral and suffers a terrible injustice at the hand of the evil "Sauced Sisters of Tallenook. "
Leysa didn’t move throughout the viewing service. She sat straight upright in he chair – like a lady, as her mom had taught her – and remained absolutely silent as she kept her eyes trained on the casket and Ionna’s face. She brought her copy of “Flowers of the Field” with her and held in tightly against her chest. She felt as if she even opened her mouth, she might throw up her entire breakfast; she was afraid to move. The room had a sickening sweet smell of too many flowers and too much perfume, and it made Leysa nauseous.
Mrs. Strengen sat next to her on her left with Devak, Jr., and Maryska – also feeling nauseous but for a different reason – sat on her right in the first pew, next to Devak. Will Lankev and Havik Kestine sat behind Devak.
Alecia Rusmen and Abigail Tangotch sat directly behind Leysa. Alecia leaned up to Leysa, which made Leysa jump and momentarily snapped her out of her trance-like state, and caused her to gasp. Alecia, trying to console her, near-whispered in her ear: “Leysa, dear, your mother is not dead. She is only sleeping.” Abigail heard Alecia’s comments and chimed in: “That’s right, dear. She’s having the most peaceful sleep she’s ever had.”
At this, the gullible Leysa – when it came to love for her mother anyway – suddenly saw hope. Her eyes got like saucers and she spun around to address the two apartment building busybodies, who were half-lit themselves and had no business trying to console anyone, least of all a child who has just lost her mother.
“If she’s only sleeping, when is she going to wake up?” Leysa replied, looking back and forth at their faces, searching for an answer and actually almost smiling a bit. She was just about ready to elbow Maryska and tell her the good news – their mother wasn’t dead after all, she was just sleeping! – when she saw Alecia and Abigail withdraw in shock. The Sauced Sisters of the Wrong Side of Tallenook hadn’t expected that kind of response.
Alecia and Abigail sat silently, desperately searching for a response, when Father Patrick Carnes of St. Jerome’s appeared at the front of the altar and started the service. Alecia told Leysa: “Hush now, child. Father is about to begin the service. Turn around now.”
“Oh,” Leysa replied in a hushed voice, confused and more hurt than ever, and turned back around to face Father Carnes. She started to cry; Maryska reached her arm around her and Leysa leaned against her big sister’s shoulder, her head partially turned toward the back of the church. She stole a few short, inquisitive looks back at Alecia and Abigail throughout the service, but the Sauced Sisters made sure not to make eye contact with her. They ignored Leysa for the next 45 minutes. Leysa gave up trying to talk to them and instead concentrated again on Ionna.
“Her chest isn’t moving,” she thought silently to herself. “How can she be asleep if her chest isn’t moving? She isn’t even breathing. Maybe she’s holding her breath. Can people hold their breath as long as they want when they’re sleeping?” And with that, Leysa tried to hold her own breath for as long as she could. When Maryska saw what she was doing, she poked Leysa in her side, and Leysa let go of her breath in a loud whoosh that made Devak turn and give her a disapproving look.
After the service, Leysa and Maryska went to view Ionna with Devak, with their friends and well-wishers in tow. Maryska went first, and Leysa stayed extra close to her, seemingly just inching her way up.
As Leysa approached the casket, tears started to well up in her eyes, and she knew right then and there that Ionna was not sleeping. She was not waking up. She was dead, her mommy was dead. Dead and gone. Gone to God and belonging to the angels in Heaven. She let go of Maryska’s hand, which she was holding with her left hand, and was vaguely aware of a tingling feeling in her right hand – like electric fingers trying to wrap themselves around her own fingers – and felt the hair on the right side of the back of her neck stand on end. But she was so caught up in the moment that she shut out the outside world; she barely noticed the tingling, or the chilled feeling on the right side of her body.
She took a small, folded-and-crumpled painting she had done in the studio from the small purse she carried with her. “I painted this for you, momma” she whispered, and lay it in the casket. The painting was of two white, winged, dark-haired angels, hand-in-hand, one seemingly directing the other one upward, through a rainbow toward a bright yellow sun. Off in the bottom left-hand corner in the green grass of their front yard was a stick figure of a little girl with blue drops coming from her eyes and forming a puddle on the ground.
“Bye-bye momma,” she whispered. “Be good for God. I’ll be good for Daddy and Mrs. Strengen. I’m not mad at you for lying about the Monstermen in America. I’m not mad at you at all.” With that, she felt faint and took Maryska’s hand before Maryska got too far away from the casket. She walked away holding Maryska’s hand with her left, and rubbing her right hand against her dress, trying to warm it back up and not giving a second thought as to how to do it – and the rest of the right side of her body – had gotten so chilled.
Alecia and Abigail were among the first to leave after the processional. Leysa gave them the same loathing look she had given the mean German man at Ellis Island. She hated them – the hate suddenly gave her clarity of thought – and she felt a vague desire for revenge, although she was not sure what revenge was. She only hoped that something bad would happen to them, that God would punish them for telling such an awful, awful lie. And that there was nothing wrong with wanting something bad to happen to them because they were bad people, and God smote bad people who deserved it. “Yes,” she thought. “God will get them. God will get them good.”
The Sauced Sisters shuffled and stumbled quickly out of the funeral home without looking back, clutching their purses and speaking to no-one.
Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen Excerpt
From Chapter 4: A Deep Sleep
Leysa didn’t move throughout the viewing service. She sat straight upright in he chair – like a lady, as her mom had taught her – and remained absolutely silent as she kept her eyes trained on the casket and Ionna’s face. She brought her copy of “Flowers of the Field” with her and held in tightly against her chest. She felt as if she even opened her mouth, she might throw up her entire breakfast; she was afraid to move. The room had a sickening sweet smell of too many flowers and too much perfume, and it made Leysa nauseous.
Mrs. Strengen sat next to her on her left with Devak, Jr., and Maryska – also feeling nauseous but for a different reason – sat on her right in the first pew, next to Devak. Will Lankev and Havik Kestine sat behind Devak.
Alecia Rusmen and Abigail Tangotch sat directly behind Leysa. Alecia leaned up to Leysa, which made Leysa jump and momentarily snapped her out of her trance-like state, and caused her to gasp. Alecia, trying to console her, near-whispered in her ear: “Leysa, dear, your mother is not dead. She is only sleeping.” Abigail heard Alecia’s comments and chimed in: “That’s right, dear. She’s having the most peaceful sleep she’s ever had.”
At this, the gullible Leysa – when it came to love for her mother anyway – suddenly saw hope. Her eyes got like saucers and she spun around to address the two apartment building busybodies, who were half-lit themselves and had no business trying to console anyone, least of all a child who has just lost her mother.
“If she’s only sleeping, when is she going to wake up?” Leysa replied, looking back and forth at their faces, searching for an answer and actually almost smiling a bit. She was just about ready to elbow Maryska and tell her the good news – their mother wasn’t dead after all, she was just sleeping! – when she saw Alecia and Abigail withdraw in shock. The Sauced Sisters of the Wrong Side of Tallenook hadn’t expected that kind of response.
Alecia and Abigail sat silently, desperately searching for a response, when Father Patrick Carnes of St. Jerome’s appeared at the front of the altar and started the service. Alecia told Leysa: “Hush now, child. Father is about to begin the service. Turn around now.”
“Oh,” Leysa replied in a hushed voice, confused and more hurt than ever, and turned back around to face Father Carnes. She started to cry; Maryska reached her arm around her and Leysa leaned against her big sister’s shoulder, her head partially turned toward the back of the church. She stole a few short, inquisitive looks back at Alecia and Abigail throughout the service, but the Sauced Sisters made sure not to make eye contact with her. They ignored Leysa for the next 45 minutes. Leysa gave up trying to talk to them and instead concentrated again on Ionna.
“Her chest isn’t moving,” she thought silently to herself. “How can she be asleep if her chest isn’t moving? She isn’t even breathing. Maybe she’s holding her breath. Can people hold their breath as long as they want when they’re sleeping?” And with that, Leysa tried to hold her own breath for as long as she could. When Maryska saw what she was doing, she poked Leysa in her side, and Leysa let go of her breath in a loud whoosh that made Devak turn and give her a disapproving look.
After the service, Leysa and Maryska went to view Ionna with Devak, with their friends and well-wishers in tow. Maryska went first, and Leysa stayed extra close to her, seemingly just inching her way up.
As Leysa approached the casket, tears started to well up in her eyes, and she knew right then and there that Ionna was not sleeping. She was not waking up. She was dead, her mommy was dead. Dead and gone. Gone to God and belonging to the angels in Heaven. She let go of Maryska’s hand, which she was holding with her left hand, and was vaguely aware of a tingling feeling in her right hand – like electric fingers trying to wrap themselves around her own fingers – and felt the hair on the right side of the back of her neck stand on end. But she was so caught up in the moment that she shut out the outside world; she barely noticed the tingling, or the chilled feeling on the right side of her body.
She took a small, folded-and-crumpled painting she had done in the studio from the small purse she carried with her. “I painted this for you, momma” she whispered, and lay it in the casket. The painting was of two white, winged, dark-haired angels, hand-in-hand, one seemingly directing the other one upward, through a rainbow toward a bright yellow sun. Off in the bottom left-hand corner in the green grass of their front yard was a stick figure of a little girl with blue drops coming from her eyes and forming a puddle on the ground.
“Bye-bye momma,” she whispered. “Be good for God. I’ll be good for Daddy and Mrs. Strengen. I’m not mad at you for lying about the Monstermen in America. I’m not mad at you at all.” With that, she felt faint and took Maryska’s hand before Maryska got too far away from the casket. She walked away holding Maryska’s hand with her left, and rubbing her right hand against her dress, trying to warm it back up and not giving a second thought as to how to do it – and the rest of the right side of her body – had gotten so chilled.
Alecia and Abigail were among the first to leave after the processional. Leysa gave them the same loathing look she had given the mean German man at Ellis Island. She hated them – the hate suddenly gave her clarity of thought – and she felt a vague desire for revenge, although she was not sure what revenge was. She only hoped that something bad would happen to them, that God would punish them for telling such an awful, awful lie. And that there was nothing wrong with wanting something bad to happen to them because they were bad people, and God smote bad people who deserved it. “Yes,” she thought. “God will get them. God will get them good.”
The Sauced Sisters shuffled and stumbled quickly out of the funeral home without looking back, clutching their purses and speaking to no-one.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Lessons Learned: Don't Promote the Weekend Before Christmas
I did two promotional events this weekend and both were duds from a turnout perspective -- which only goes to show that when folks get their holiday game faces on, look out. They don't want to talk, surf, or otherwise engage in leisurely activity that any sane person would call human (or humane for that matter).
First, I did a book signing at the Barnes and Noble in Plymouth Meeting this weekend. I must have been an afterthought in the minds of the store managers, because I was stuck at a tiny table (it was more like a tray with legs) behind another author whose sign was so huge it made it impossible for people to see me. He wrote a book about the Philadelphia Eagles with lots of pretty pictures aimed at Joe Six-Pack, while I wrote experimental fiction aimed at a niche audience. I guess I can see why he got the sweet spot by the front door and I was, well, a few steps behind next to the Boy Scouts gift wrapping kiosk.
A grand total of 3 people stopped by, but each was a rich experience in its own right.
One father talked to me for about 20 minutes about his alcoholic son, who gave up drugs but has for years been unable to kick the drink. He asked me to write an inspirational note in the book to his son, and then got it gift-wrapped and left with a smile on his face and a little spring in his step (I think). To think that my book is going to be sitting under someone's tree this year and be opened on Christmas by someone who really needs to hear its message -- and includes a note of confidence from the author to boot -- is extremely gratifying. This is the type of person for whom I wrote this book, and I guess if it somehow gets this person to put down the bottle it will have all been worth it.
Secondly, I did an online interview with Book Talk with J&J, a free promotional blog site that helps authors get the word out about their books. I got another 3 hits on this blog, 2 of which came from the blog admin and one of the site's reviewers.
Sigh. Bitten by the holiday rush bug, and stranded in cyberspace? Not exactly. Again, the audience for which my book was intended showed up, even if it was only one person. This commentor (who won the contest for a free copy) told me about a friend with a drinking problem who they thought could be helped by my book, and asked me if I thought it was appropriate for someone who was an alcoholic, rather than a child of an alcoholic. Here is my reply:
Hi C.K., Thanks for stopping by and for taking the time to comment. I definitely think my book would have meaning and insight for someone currently researching their own alcoholism. The protagonist in my book, Leysa Henko, is both a victim of alcoholism at a young age, and an adult alcoholic later in life. So, in that way, my book hits both ends of the spectrum of the disease.
Thanks again for coming by and feel free to post any other questions you have.
Best, Kenneth Kirsch
In the end, it was a quiet weekend promotionally but well worth the investment of time and energy.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours.
Yours in cyberspace,
Ken Kirsch
First, I did a book signing at the Barnes and Noble in Plymouth Meeting this weekend. I must have been an afterthought in the minds of the store managers, because I was stuck at a tiny table (it was more like a tray with legs) behind another author whose sign was so huge it made it impossible for people to see me. He wrote a book about the Philadelphia Eagles with lots of pretty pictures aimed at Joe Six-Pack, while I wrote experimental fiction aimed at a niche audience. I guess I can see why he got the sweet spot by the front door and I was, well, a few steps behind next to the Boy Scouts gift wrapping kiosk.
A grand total of 3 people stopped by, but each was a rich experience in its own right.
One father talked to me for about 20 minutes about his alcoholic son, who gave up drugs but has for years been unable to kick the drink. He asked me to write an inspirational note in the book to his son, and then got it gift-wrapped and left with a smile on his face and a little spring in his step (I think). To think that my book is going to be sitting under someone's tree this year and be opened on Christmas by someone who really needs to hear its message -- and includes a note of confidence from the author to boot -- is extremely gratifying. This is the type of person for whom I wrote this book, and I guess if it somehow gets this person to put down the bottle it will have all been worth it.
Secondly, I did an online interview with Book Talk with J&J, a free promotional blog site that helps authors get the word out about their books. I got another 3 hits on this blog, 2 of which came from the blog admin and one of the site's reviewers.
Sigh. Bitten by the holiday rush bug, and stranded in cyberspace? Not exactly. Again, the audience for which my book was intended showed up, even if it was only one person. This commentor (who won the contest for a free copy) told me about a friend with a drinking problem who they thought could be helped by my book, and asked me if I thought it was appropriate for someone who was an alcoholic, rather than a child of an alcoholic. Here is my reply:
Hi C.K., Thanks for stopping by and for taking the time to comment. I definitely think my book would have meaning and insight for someone currently researching their own alcoholism. The protagonist in my book, Leysa Henko, is both a victim of alcoholism at a young age, and an adult alcoholic later in life. So, in that way, my book hits both ends of the spectrum of the disease.
Thanks again for coming by and feel free to post any other questions you have.
Best, Kenneth Kirsch
In the end, it was a quiet weekend promotionally but well worth the investment of time and energy.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours.
Yours in cyberspace,
Ken Kirsch
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
My Second Book Signing: Same Bookstore, New Bookdate
The first signing for Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen went so well, they've invited me back!
Here are the particulars:
Date: Saturday, December 20, 2008
Time: 1:00pm - 4:00pm
Location: Barnes and Noble
Street: 2300 Chemical Road
City/Town: Plymouth Meeting, PA
I will post pictures from the first one here. They are also available on my Facebook page.
Here are the particulars:
Date: Saturday, December 20, 2008
Time: 1:00pm - 4:00pm
Location: Barnes and Noble
Street: 2300 Chemical Road
City/Town: Plymouth Meeting, PA
I will post pictures from the first one here. They are also available on my Facebook page.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Second Interview Set for Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen
The second interview for my debut novel, Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen, will appear on Book Talk with J&J at the link above, the weekend of Dec. 20-21. Check it out. I plan to reveal more about the often spooky, creative process behind the book. While not a horror novel per se, (it's meant to be a slightly paranormal story of inspiration and hope) there are just enough shivers in Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen to keep the casual reader up at night (at least for a few minutes past their bedtime!).
Visit http://booksbypickles.blogspot.com/ at any time that weekend and leave a comment about the interview to be entered into a contest to win a signed copy of Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen.
Blessings,
Kenneth James Kirsch
Visit http://booksbypickles.blogspot.com/ at any time that weekend and leave a comment about the interview to be entered into a contest to win a signed copy of Demon Alcohol and the Monstermen.
Blessings,
Kenneth James Kirsch
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