It's true. I am a one-finger novelist. I was also a one-finger publisher, editor, writer, columnist and newspaper reporter. At one point in my early career I was even a one-finger typesetter … until my narrow-minded new boss looked over my shoulder and asked, "What the hell are ya doing?"rrow-minded new boss looked over my shoulder and asked, "What the hell are ya doing?"
I said, "Typesetting, sir."

He said, "With one finger?"

I said, "Actually, I use two. One finger of each hand."

He said, "You can't do that."

I said, "But I can. And I average over fifty-five words a minute, sir."

He shook his head. "I can't have one of my typesetters using only one finger."

"Two, sir," I said.

He got hot enough to steam a locomotive. "I'll give you two!" he said. "Two minutes to get the hell outta here."

Well, I took my one finger (okay, two) and went out into the world, continuing to hunt and peck for more than thirty years in the publishing field until I became the great literary phenomenon you see before you today.

So it goes to show that you don't have to use all your attributes to reach your goals. Sometimes a single digit and dumb determination are enough.

Now I urge you to use your finger to click the pages of my site and perhaps purchase one or more of my novels. (Let's be honest. Isn't t every author's website mainly about selling books? At least I've added some links and other stuff to make it a little more interesting.)

Anyway, that's all for now. Take care. I hope you'll enjoy your visit and come back again.

Your One Finger Novelist,

Ned

E. P. Ned Burke

 

I thought I'd get back to my novel–the one that has been lounging on my computer for months. I have a thousand excuses for not finishing it: too busy with other endeavors, writer's block, my lead character won't budge, my cat needs food. Oh, yes, I have a ton of legitimate reasons for not finishing my third novel in my Amos Grant mystery series. I feel angry with myself. But then again, I don't want my cat to starve. A dead cat in the house is bad for one's muse.

So I feed the cat and start to thumb through The Easy Way To Write A Novel by Rob Parnell. It's an e-book that caught my attention. (I like e-books because they are cheap and fast, much like some of the girls from my old neighborhood.) But Parnell's book is more satisfying.

“If you are reasonably well educated, or even if not, everything you need to write an enduring novel-length piece of fiction is inside you. You already possess the talent and the necessary skills. All you have to do is access them.”

This is how Rob Parnell, founder of Easy Way To Write, begins his 179-page informative e-book. Using psychology and motivational advice, Parnell walks you through his unique process. More Zen monk than strict writing teacher, he spends a good part of his book teaching you meditation and visualization techniques.

Some may find his holistic approach a bit strange. But treating the whole person, taking into account one’s mental and social factors as well as the physical act of writing, caught my attention. It differed from the hundreds of other writing books I have sitting on my bookshelves. It sparked my muse into a new way of writing novels. If I had read Parnell’s e-book before I struggled through my own six novels, I believe the entire process would have been less painful.

What Rob Parnell does is prepare you to write before he shows you how to write your novel in 30 days. (Maybe he should have named his book “The FAST Way To Write a Novel.”) In any case, I was intrigued by his system. I, especially, enjoyed his putting to rest some of the myths about writing a novel.

For instance, he points out that all art (writing included) is subjective. “There is absolutely no reason to believe that what you create is less a work of art than anything else,” he writes. “If you believe your book to be a work of art, then that’s exactly what it is. Period.”

You must have an “original idea” is another phrase you hear a lot about. But Parnell points out that what these know-it-alls really mean is that you should write something “significantly different.” There is no such thing as an original idea. I found this out when in 1973 I came out with my “original” magazine of memories, Yesterday’s Magazette. Unbeknownst to me, others were heaving this same “original” idea around the same exact time. But I still say I came out with it first. :-)

Here's another example: In 1970, I coined the “original” saying of “always expect the unexpected.” But the funny thing is that since that time I must have heard my same "original" expression repeated a million times or more. One more original idea I thought I had back in the late 70s was to write a column of “Oddball News” items, which I did for a few years. Now I see there is a very similar column called News Of The Weird which is now syndicated in hundreds of newspapers.

So believe me and Rob Parnell when we say “don’t waste your time” agonizing and trying to come up with some original idea for your book. Don’t even try. Just put a twist on an old idea.

Parnell recommends writing fast. “If you try to use your conscious logical side of your mind to write, you’ll take forever,” he states. “Let your fingers write or type automatically.” In other words, he advises, use your subconscious to write that great novel.

As much as I enjoyed the mindset and motivational techniques in the first half of Parnell’s book, I have to admit that Part Two about his “30 Day Formula” for writing a novel was equally entertaining and informative. Right off, he tells you that you need CHARACTERS before anything else. He says without interesting characters, there is simply no story.

He guides you through each day. He even designs a ten step plot template and explains how setting should best be viewed as another character to define. He then  goes on to list the ten fundamental mistakes that writers should avoid. Lastly, like a good coach, he is there to nudge and push you along and to motivate you. “You’re always closer to success than you think!”

I admit Rob Parnell’s e-book, The Easy Way To Write a Novel, got my motor running. In fact, I've decided to spend the rest  of the day working on my novel.  I feel really pumped! My mind is racing with ideas. My fingers are a twitter. I'm smokin'!

But first ... I need to feed the cat.

When an author's work is rejected from some snobby NY firm, you can be certain the publisher responsible for this dastardly act will be blacklisted for eternity. Authors have even resorted to voodoo and witchcraft to bring about revenge, I am told.

Many authors regard traditional publishers as pompous, totally unfair creatures with little, if any, consideration for the feelings of another human being. And, in many cases, they are right. So forget 'em. Self-publish your book now!

It's true that many big money publishers regard authors with the same amount of enthusiasm as a shot of penicillin. That is, they realize they need a few of them to fill up pages of a book which they in turn sell for a profit, but somehow they can't shake the feeling they are being fed nothing more than fungus on moldy cheese.

Actually, authors are a hard-working lot. Many are very prolific, like Charles Hamilton, alias Frank Richard "Billy Bunter." He was known to produce 80,000 words a week of finished copy. His lifetime output was said to be more than 72 million words. The fact that Charlie never married might have had something to do with his many hours of productive labor. But who can say.

Erle Stanley Gardner of Perry Mason fame worked on as many as seven novels at one time. Before he died in 1970, he dictated up to 10,000 words a day.

Then there was John Creaset, the British novelist, who pounded out two complete books in a single week. (Talk about touch-typing!)

A few authors did get paid well. Consider Hemingway being paid $30,000 for a 2,000-word article on bullfighting for Sports Illustrated in 1960. That's $15 a word for writing about some guy throwing the bull.

And let's not forget that "Big Publishers" often make mistakes. All you have to do is consider the people who turned down "Gone With The Wind" because they felt it was too long. Numerous publishers also rejected the novel "Peyton Place" before it was accepted and eventually sold 12 million copies.

But what publisher, or anyone else for that matter, would ever dream that six million people would go out and purchase a simple boy/girl postcard created by Donald McGill in the early 1900s with this caption:

He: "How do you like Kipling?"

She: "I don't know, you naughty boy. I've never Kippled."

This goes to show that an author must (for a better choice of words) stay the course. If he or she has talent and persistence, that author may eventually find a traditional publisher equally gifted and farsighted who will be quick to recognize these attributes.

But don't count on it. Instead, self-publish your book. At least that way you can see your book in print in a matter of weeks, rather than years. And no matter what you've heard, YOU will always be the one responsible for promoting your book ... unless, of course, you're James Patterson or Stephen King.

E. P. "Ned" Burke has been in the publishing business for 30 years. Besides holding the title of editor of various newspapers in Florida and Pennsylvania, he was also the publisher of Yesterday's Magazette, New Writer's and Writer's Guidelines and News magazines.

He has published six novels and numerous articles and short stories. Currently, he is the president of E. P. Burke Publishing ( http://www.epburkepublishing.com) and serves as editor of Yesterday's Magazette, and The Perspiring Writer Magazine.

In addition, he has a copywriting service, "My Personal Copywriter," and is owner of "Ebooks On Writing" and Ebooks For Marketeers.

On January 19, 1809, a son was born to two itinerant actors. He was orphaned at the age of three and later taken in by John Allan and his wife who enrolled him in an academy run by William Burke.

His troubles escalated when he was forced to leave the University of Virginia due to drinking and gambling, even though he was one of the school’s top students. This disappointment was followed by another when he learned his sweetheart, Elmira Royster, had become engaged to another man. He continued his drinking until his stepfather cut off  his funding.

In 1827,  he published “Tamerlane and Other Poems” at his own expense. Few copies sold and today it is considered one of the rarest volumes in literary history. That same year, he entered the Army under an assumed name and was sent to Sullivan’s  Island, South Carolina that he later used as the setting for his story, “The Gold Bug.” He was dishonorably discharged due to drinking and gambling. Then he pleaded with his stepfather for money to enter West Point. His stepfather gave in but in 1830, after only one year of attendance, he was court-marshaled and discharged. It was the  last straw for his stepfather who said he never wanted to see him again.

Three fruitless years later, his short story (MS Found In A Bottle) was published and he began to make a meager living as a staff member of Southern Literary Messenger and other small publications..

At this time, he fell in love and soon married his thirteen-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm, Her youthful devotion was enough to quiet his tormented soul for a short period. But after Virginia burst a blood  vessel and became an invalid, he again became deeply depressed.
On April 6, 1844, he moved to New York with his ailing young wife and landed a job with The New York Mirror. The following year his poem, The Raven, received national recognition. But his joy was short-lived once more. His young wife succumbed to tuberculosis and died in 1847. Again, he fell apart and stayed in a drug stupor for almost a year.

Plagued by severe headaches, deep depression, and frequent attempts at suicide, he somehow managed to write brilliantly. In 1849, he penned his most moving poem about Virginia, “Annabel Lee.” That same year, he also published “Eldorado” in which a “gallant knight” seeks his Eldorado but never finds it.

In August of 1849, the former Elmira  Royster, now widowed, rekindled her love for him. Once again, a thread of hope dangled before him. A wedding was planned for October. At last, it seemed he would find true happiness.

But on the third of October, on his way to Richmond to see Elmira, .he got off the train in Baltimore. Nobody knows why, but later he was found facedown in front of a saloon, drunk and severely beaten. He was rushed to a nearby hospital, but it proved too late. After four days of torment and suffering, he cried out his last words: “Lord, help my poor soul!”

He died without a single soul around to grieve his passing.

On October 9, 1849, his body was lowered into the damp cold earth and covered with dirt, a scene he had written so many times in chilly detail.

To this day, nobody can be certain if Edgar Allan Poe even found peace in eternity.