Tag: Books

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Writing Life and the Attitude Adjustment

Yesterday was an incredibly productive day! (Today will be, too. I’m very motivated.)

When asked how I became a novelist, my usual joke is, “Spite.” But is it entirely a joke? Before I got on this high roll of productivity, I think a few things came together.

1. I have improved my health and work on that daily with diet and exercise. Feeling good means a clearer mind and more energy to spend.
2. I am enjoying The Productivity Project by Chris Bailey. Reading about becoming more productive won’t make me more productive on its own, but I do find the mindset motivating. Best takeaways so far: “Productivity isn’t about doing more things. It’s about doing the right things.” It’s less about a to-do list and more about accomplishments. What’s actually getting done?
3. Back to spite. I was disappointed that Vengeance Is Hers didn’t win a competition I’d won before with a different book. Submitting the novel to new competitions right away got me past that disappointment quickly.

Today’s agenda:

1. Polish the third draft of my next thriller, Where The Night Takes Us.
2. Exercise and meal prep.
3. Research audio tech requirements for recording audiobooks.
4. I’m not doing taxes yet, but I will consolidate to make sure I have all my receipts put together.
5. Read.
6. Post two videos to socials.
7. French study.
8. Watch The Pitt tonight!

Write a blog post.

Have a great day, or make it one!

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A Victim’s Advice

In my upcoming novel, our protagonist is Dr. Simon Fethullah, a forensic psychiatrist who worked for the FBI. Shot on the job, he retires to the wilds of Montana with his wife Carla and his faithful dog, Stefano.

Simon helped put the Rainy Day Cannibal away, but the serial killer has disciples. Though behind prison walls, the killer’s reach can still find Simon. Add in a dead presidential press secretary and a kidnapped girl. Now you’ve got Where The Night Takes Us, a rocking psychological thriller that plays with the blurred limits of time and memory. (The query is on submission to agents.)

A Brief Excerpt from my Next Crime Thriller

To deal with what his wife calls his post-apocalyptic stress disorder, Simon takes his therapist’s advice. After a dark realization, he makes the following notes on his phone.

How to Slow Time’s March and Live Longer and Better

1. Eat healthier and in reasonable portions.

2. Move more and lift weights.

3. Prove Denise wrong by enjoying rural life.

4. Play with my dog more.

5. Watch less social media and talk to Carla more.

6. Be more social. (Be real. I won’t do that.)

7. Read more books. Maybe write another book.

8. Do not shoot self in head.

9. Shoot someone else in the head when they come for us.

10. Eat more legumes.

Stay tuned!

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Stay Safe. We’ll Wait.

I’m a novelist who writes dystopian, apocalyptic, and crime fiction. My current income from over 40 books is far less than I made from far fewer books in 2011. I have to be honest, though. I can’t be mad about it.

Most of my readers are from the United States, where health insurance premiums are shooting up. Disposable income is down. It’s spiraled into a dystopian nightmare where Nazis write their own warrants to bust into homes. Children are getting kidnapped by government agents. Innocent people are assaulted and incarcerated without due process.

You’ve seen the video of a gaggle of ICE agents murdering people in Minnesota while gaslighters from the federal government libel the victims and tell you not to trust your lying eyes.

Reading novels isn’t the priority right now. Protesting, justice, and a general strike are top of mind. This is not to devalue art. It’s a sad acknowledgment of what is. I see you. I care. Yes, fiction can act as a wonderful distraction from ugly reality. Novels transport us. I love putting movies in your heads. That’s not the mood many are in right now. I get that, and I am sincerely sorry for all you’re going through.

My hope is that sanity will return. My wish is that all of you will be safe. My worry is that, though the chaos is concentrated in Minnesota at the moment, you are all in danger. One day, this will all be over. As the famous book title goes, one day everyone will always have been against this.

In the meantime, please stay as safe as you can.

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I Am Cursed

In my neighborhood, there is a cursed place. Today, that location is a new sushi restaurant. Before that? A Burger Factory. Before that? A forgotten string of failures. A new renter arrives with fresh ideas and colossal hope. After a year or two, another restaurateur takes up the challenge and shoulders the curse. Why anyone invests all their life savings in a restaurant is a mystery to most. To anyone who does not share the dream of making unappreciated food for an oblivious public, it is madness.

I would never invest in a restaurant, but I understand the passion for the risk.

Some clods don’t think writing a book is “real work.” They devalue the effort and call it a hobby. Some even want it all for free. It’s just typing, after all, right? Hell, in weak and depressed moments, I’ve called it an expensive hobby! When a reviewer says, “I don’t understand why this book isn’t a bestseller,” all I can say is, “Me, neither, man.”

And how many people really have the time, energy, and attention span to read anymore? Is this really a job or a fairly pointless compulsion? What kind of fool wasted months or years to compose a novel?

Here, I raise my hand. I’m that kind of fool. I don’t know if my next book will be a smash hit, but I enter into every story with that same hope. It’s madness, really.

Here's the kind of fool I am.

A peek into how my workday began

After only a few hours of sleep, I think I woke up around 3:30 a.m. I lay in bed with wild thoughts about Where The Night Takes Us. The manuscript needed an extra kick to get the grand seduction going. It’s a dance to draw readers in, and the steps were not quite right yet. I deleted a chapter yesterday to speed up the pacing. I added something crucial to the beginning yesterday, too. Satisfaction eluded me. What else would make the recipe sweeter?

Gave up on sleep at 4 a.m.

The nagging sense that I’d lose some sugar made me crawl out of bed and to my laptop. More words, particular and well-chosen, had to get written before I could lose the thread. I had to sew some seams and make the presentation more appetizing. Perfection is always out of reach, but at least I can make it more right.

Officially, Where The Night Takes Us will be my thirtieth novel. I’ve been here before. The energy behind the compulsion to get it published is always the same. Years ago, a novelist’s house caught fire. He braved the flames to reenter the burning building to save his manuscript. I get it, but it’s madness, isn’t it?

Anyway, I caught the words before they could slip away. If this is a curse, I must enjoy it. When the manuscript is fully baked and out of the oven, I hope you’ll enjoy my madness.

It is now 5:15 a.m., and my brain is buzzing. I may as well stay up and keep cooking. Somewhere out there, I have to believe hungry readers are waiting for my next concoction.

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Today’s Agenda & Something You MUST taste

I got to the grocery store early for more yogurt because I found a fake cheesecake recipe you’ll want to eat every day, all day (below).

Crossword (Done! I abhor cross words, but I love crosswords.)

Read more of The Children of Men. Damn, this is a good book.

Study French.

Workout at home today (kettlebell, mobility, balance, bodyweight exercises, stationary bike, boxing, & lots of squats).

I am working through the third draft polish of Where The Night Takes Us. (Greatest challenge: timeline logistics.)

Now, to that fake cheesecake that’s going to blow your mind:

1 cup plain high-protein yogurt

1 egg

1 tablespoon cornstarch

splash of lemon and/or lemon zest

Optional: sweetener

Mix it up, slam it in a ramekin, bake at 350 for 12 minutes, review Vengeance Is Hers and/or join the review team for Where The Night Takes Us, and enjoy!

Optional: top with berries.

You’re going to love it.

If you like 1984, The Burning Library, It Can Happen Here, or A Different Drummer…

You’ll love Citizen Second Class.

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What happened in Minnesota?

A woman in a car waves for cars to go around her.
ICE agents issue conflicting commands, one telling her to go and another insisting she get out of the car.
An ICE agent steps in front of her car, phone in one hand recording, the other hand going for his weapon.
Terrified and confused, the woman backs up and turns her wheels so she won’t run over anyone. No one is in front of her car as she begins to go.
The woman is shot by ICE.
A physician begs to check on her.
ICE officers refuse. “We have our own medics.”
“Where are they?” a woman screams.
She is told to relax.
“How can I relax when you just killed my fucking neighbor?”
Medics don’t arrive for fifteen minutes.
Meanwhile, two minutes after shooting the woman, the killer walks away calmly, gets in his car, and drives away.

In a normal world:


Law enforcement would look like law enforcement, not masked goons cosplaying their power fantasies.
They’d have better training.
ICE would conform to codes of conduct and have stricter rules of engagement than soldiers do in a war zone.
Peace officers ask themselves, “Must I shoot?”, not “Can I shoot?”
Being filmed should temper ICE response. It doesn’t.
The shooter shouldn’t have walked away. His superior should have taken his weapon as evidence for the investigation.
Call it what it is. He fled a crime scene.

In a better world, those in power could admit mistakes.
They would announce that there would be an investigation.
They wouldn’t lie so badly that anyone could see the difference between what they say and what all the video shows.
The President wouldn’t claim the shooter had been run over and was recovering in the hospital.
The vice president wouldn’t libel the murdered woman.
Yale-trained sophist JD Vance (AKA James Donald Bowman alias James David Hamel) would know the difference between “immunity” and impunity.”


And remember when Kristi Noem claimed they had arrested the girlfriend of the founder of Antifa?

Whatever happened to that case? How has the press forgotten it? The original Antifa emerged in Europe early in the last century. That girlfriend must really be a tough old lady not to have given up all her secrets by now.

At the conclusion of Citizen Second Class, I found a relatively peaceful way out from under a grasping authoritarian regime. That was fiction. Reality is not so neat.

FYI: To read Citizen Second Class, find it here.

(It will soon be available everywhere, not just on Amazon.)

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This is What I Do for Us

You feel the world is chaotic.

You’re right.

Fishing boats that could never make it to the United States from Venezuela are blown up. The killers don’t even know who they killed. Outlandish claims are used to justify colonialism and tyranny. Old allies are threatened while old enemies are embraced. People who seemed smart are working toward a future that values AI over human beings. Dumb and bigoted monsters spew hate-filled sophistry. Christian identity is placed above actual Christian values. Journalists who don’t ask follow-up questions become abused stenographers. Upholding the law is only for the lowly. Judgment is left to future historians instead of the courts. Dangerous users are protected by the powerful, and the helpless have no voice. A buffoonish conman with dementia has the nuclear codes.

This is not a complete list.

Q: What will 2026 bring?

Ar: More of the same.

Q: What can we do?

A: Hold on.

The same hate that brought the haters together will tear them apart. Their incompetence is the root of their failure. As the former cult members are betrayed by their champion’s false promises, they will peel off. Whistleblowers will find their breath. Former true believers will discover they have a spine after all. Eventually, many who voted for him will pretend they’ve never heard the name. When he comes up, they’ll look away and try to shift the conversation to anything else.

One day, we’ll look back and ask, “Why didn’t we have to wait for them to implode? Why didn’t the courts stop him? Why didn’t everyone laugh in his face? Where were you when the veil fell from everyone’s eyes? Why were you so quiet?”

About Me

I write fiction. I don’t like bullies. I trust science and distrust authority. I try to keep my worries to the things I can control. I escape into fiction by reading it and writing it.

About You

If you don’t agree, you won’t like my work, and we definitely should not be friends. Until you have your road to Damascus moment, that’s the way it is.

If you are a reader who feels as I do, we should be friends, and you’re going to love my books.

~ I am Robert Chazz Chute, the winner of fifteen writing awards. I pen crime stories, psychological thrillers, and apocalyptic epics, and I remain defiant.