Tag: suspense

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Fear and Loving in the Brain Tickle Business

My parents did brave things. Having kids is brave. Starting and running several businesses took courage and ongoing resolve. My mom saved lives as a lifeguard and a nurse. My dad dealt with criminals and physical conflict several times. The hardest thing they dealt with was the end of their lives. Mortality is scary, but they faced the Reaper with grace. (Well, Mom was pretty mad about it, but with her last breath she did wave goodbye.)

I was unfair to my parents.

When I was younger, I thought fear governed them. I felt that whatever I wanted to do, they were there to thwart my ambitions. Mom and Dad seemed to wage a war on fun. I don’t think I fully understood their protective impulses until I had kids of my own. You want to shield your children from harm, and you worry a lot. You also want to prepare them for the world. It’s a difficult balance.

When I said I wanted to be a journalist, my parents were supportive. Working for newspapers and magazines sounded relatively safe to them. Switching my aims to working for book publishers pleased them, too. Later, when I said I was going to be a freelance writer, they got nervous. They were right to be so.

The night I told my parents, “I’m an artist,” I’m sure Mom hurt herself rolling her eyes. I could never make enough money to satisfy my father. They never asked if I was happy, only how much money I was making. With my kids, I’m only concerned if they are not happy. They’re smart and good, so I have confidence everything will work out for them.

Part of what I do is not so different from what my parents did, anyway. They started and ran multiple businesses. I’ve done the same over the years. I am now down to one. Writing is the artistic side, but publishing is a business, and it is not easy.

Too often, authors don’t think of what they do as a business.

If you are writing for a readership greater than one, you’re an author in business. Though putting words to paper can be therapeutic, it is not my therapy or merely a hobby. I write crime thrillers and apocalyptic epics to entertain. Is it profitable? My point is it’s supposed to be. I put movies in my readers’ heads. The story in your head lasts much longer than a trip to the movie theater. My latest thriller took two years to write, and there are many costs involved in bringing a book to market. So, yes, I’d like to get paid so I can continue to write. No shame in that. I love writing, but that doesn’t mean I can do it for free.

With much disapproval in her tone, Mom once told me, “You’re judged by the company you keep.” The company I keep is Ex Parte Press. Please support authors. Read books. Literacy makes everything better, and I’m a big fan of fun.

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An Excerpt from My Next Thriller

I added a little scene to my vigilante thriller yesterday, so I thought I’d share it. Here’s what you need to know: Molly Jergins attends Poeticule Bay Consolidated High School. After a fellow student, Barry Graves, is attacked by the school bully, Keith Faun, Molly confronts Keith. After that scene, a teacher shows up. Molly proves that, despite her young age (or perhaps because of her youth), she’s made of sterner stuff.

Oration: Scene fragment / Molly and Mrs. Simmons

Molly’s history teacher, Mrs. Abby Simmons, pushed her way through the crowd. “Hey! People! The bell has rung! Get to class! What’s going on? I’ve got an empty classroom, and I get lonely talking to myself! All of you have somewhere to be!”

Molly, sporting a wide and grateful grin, turned to her. “Sure, Mrs. Simmons!”

Keith turned and walked away, and Molly called after him, “You’re welcome!”

Some students snickered. Mrs. Simmons shushed them and waved them on. The crowd dispersed. A few of the juniors and sophomores touched Molly’s shoulder as a silent gesture of respect as they passed. She was relieved, certain that those witnesses and their phones had saved her from getting a black eye, or worse.

“What are you up to, Molly? Did you just make a bad situation worse?” Mrs. Simmons demanded.

“Me? Nah. That guy is like an ice cream headache. He’s going to get worse before he gets better. Not that anyone cares, but a lot of us don’t feel safe going to this school.”

By her eyes, Molly could tell the teacher didn’t disagree. Mrs. Simmons didn’t feel safe, either. 

“You should know,” Mrs. Simmons said, “when you’re young and immature, you’ve got a lot more anger and energy. You look at the state of the world and….”  She trailed off. They were alone in the corridor, but the teacher still looked around nervously to make sure no one else was within earshot.

“What is it, ma’am?” Molly prompted.

The teacher’s jaw worked for a moment as she searched for the right words. Finally, Mrs. Simmons said, “I just think you should appreciate that a lot of people around here, not just the students, are appalled by the incident between Keith and the Graves boy. But we’re also tired and just trying to get through our days. The police and the principal were informed. The ball’s in their court now. What’s best is to leave it be. Not our monkeys, not our circus anymore, right?”

Molly cocked her head to one side. “You’re tired?”

“Of this business? Surely and immeasurably.”

“If you’re tired, imagine how exhausted Barry must be. It sounds like you’ve given up, ma’am.”

“You will, too. Everybody does. When you learn the limits of what you can do, it makes sense to set your sights lower.”

“Spoken as a true educator, Mrs. Simmons! You’re an inspiration!”

The teacher shot her a sour look. “Tend to your own knitting, Molly, and get your butt to class.”

“I’ve got a free period in the library, ma’am.”

“Then get to it.”

She’d meant to curb Keith, not shame Mrs. Simmons. “Sorry,” Molly said, “maybe you’re right. I guess a lot of people do give up for whatever reason. I understand you’re trying to help me.”

But Molly couldn’t leave it at that, couldn’t stop herself. “As long as I’m still young and full of energy, though, I think I’ll keep on being angry when it’s right to be angry. Your way, powerless people stay powerless. You taught me that in your history class.”

Molly thought she had earned herself a detention, but Mrs. Simmons said nothing more. The teacher spun on her heel and strode back to her classroom.

Whatever happens, Molly cautioned herself, don’t turn into her. Don’t get so chicken of being wrong that you don’t do right.

Vengeance Is Hers

by Robert Chazz Chute

will be released in early 2025.

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It’s beginning to look a lot like Book Christmas

Looks like we’ll get our first real snow here tomorrow. The malls are packed with shoppers, but people don’t go into panic-shopping mode until the weather turns and it really looks like Christmas is coming. Now that December 25 is just a few weeks away, it’s time to order your Christmas books.

Find my author profiles using the links below:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon Canada

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New Cover Reveal!

I’m going to be real with you. I love Dream’s Dark Flight, but it’s one of my least-read books. It’s in the Haunting Lessons universe, but it’s a stand-alone only tangentially related to the original trilogy. I’ve tried a couple of different covers. Last night, I settled on this one. Will it suddenly take off and become a bestseller? Not without a huge push, but this cover is better. I hope the new cover encourages a few more readers to give this novel a try (because, still real with you) it’s awesome. 🙂

Have a look at my pitch below the image to see why.

https://books2read.com/u/bPdG2Y

If you dare to fall asleep, you’re a target.

At a resort hotel in Dubai, bodies are found crushed beside their beds. A village in France fills with corpses. Each night, the terror builds. As nightmares become reality, lucid dreaming may be the only way to fight the threat invading our minds.

The doctor doesn’t believe the waking nightmares.
The physiotherapist just wants to go back to her normal life.
The NSA agent has very little time to solve the mystery that’s killing people around the globe.
The stakes are nothing less than human extinction.

From the author of This Plague of Days, AFTER Life, and Endemic comes a unique mix of science fiction and the paranormal. Leave the light on. You’ll be up all night, turning pages, afraid to sleep.

BUY NOW
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Anger, Humour, and Spite

Let’s pull back the curtains and open the kimono. What goes into writing a book? I’ll just talk about inspiration and craft here. There are many more moving parts than what I could jam into one post.

  • My life. All fiction is autobiographical, from the knife held to my throat when I was a kid to all the other injustices for which I have an eidetic memory.
  • Environment. Growing up in Nova Scotia, I was in a target-rich environment for hearing interesting dialogue. My next thriller is set in Maine, and I take great delight in putting fresh spins on familiar idioms. (My dad had a hundred weird expressions. “That smell would drive a dog off a gut wagon,” for instance.)
  • My major was journalism, and my minor was philosophy, but I had better chances to feed my work. My first year of university was a survey course called The Foundation Year Program. A unique offering, it’s been described as the history of philosophy or the philosophy of history. FYP seemed to cover everything, from classics of literature to classical music and jazz. I read a lot of stuff I wouldn’t have read otherwise. It was a great opportunity to discover how much I didn’t know. To quote Ted Lasso, “Be curious.”
  • University isn’t for everybody, and a decent library would suffice. However, I’d worked for my family’s business since I was thirteen. My main goal was to stay out of the workforce for four years. (University was insanely cheap, then, lest you think me a brat. Besides, I kept up with my studies just fine.) University was best for the gift of time. I used those four years to read, and read, and read. I’d read a lot of science fiction through my teens. Most of my spare time in university went to American writers. I remember reading Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood in one go, only stopping briefly to nap and eat.
  • My obsession with reading didn’t stop. Usually, I’ve got ten books going at once, though lately, I’ve turned more to audiobooks as a time management strategy. Everything feeds my work. Astute readers will note the parallels between This Plague of Days and The Stand. William Goldman’s prose was my awakening to how I plot a story to provide delightful surprises to readers.
  • Movies. One of my family’s companies was a video store, so I got to watch everything. I love movies and bring that sensibility to my writing. If you think my action scenes are cinematic, that’s probably why. When you’re reading my books, I want to put a movie in your head.
  • Wikipedia and assorted trivia. At my last dental cleaning, I blurted some obscure fact to the dental hygienist. She said, “How do you know that?” I know lots of useless factoids. A doctor once asked me if I had medical training. I replied (putting on a Southern accent because I’m funny), “I’m an educated fool, suh! Born to high privilege and of low station, beyond the delightful and obscure, I am otherwise useless to society.” (That didn’t help the psych evaluation, I can tell you!) However, interesting factoids are woven into my narratives, and readers appreciate them.
  • I have help. My editor, Gari Strawn, is a gem to whom I am so very grateful. My prime beta reader, Russ, has quite an eye for detail. Last night, he messaged me about whether there are hubcaps on Lincoln Continentals. This morning, he messaged me with suggestions for alternative classic cars the villain could drive in Vengeance Is Hers.
  • Anger, humour, and spite. Some people who could have been mentors, more helpful, or at least kind, told me I had delusions of grandeur. Fuck ’em.

My writing space has three desks, and I feel very lucky to have this writing life.

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This is my first novel with a disclaimer

My next novel, Vengeance Is Hers. is packed with ways to wreak vengeance upon your many, many enemies! May righteous vengeance be yours!
But wait there’s more (and caveats)!


As previously stated (see previous blog post), I have a problem with forgive and forget. Forgiveness is nice in theory, and it’s good for you, of course. Without contrition from the offender, however, I fear this high-minded principle turns people pleasers into doormats.


As for forgetting? What? Like a lobotomy? I have an excellent memory, and I know what you did!

The novel kicks off with a disclaimer for all my well-researched mayhem:

This is not an instruction manual.

All acts of vengeance detailed herein were performed by fictional trained sociopaths.

Do not attempt.

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Forgive and forget? But how?

“I don’t have to be so angry about the past, anymore,” Molly said.

“Really?” Dylan’s doubt was evident.

“Oh, yeah! It’s time to get angry about the future.”

~ A snippet from Vengeance Is Hers

It sounds wise and peaceful to tell someone to forgive and forget. But is it really helpful?

I know it’s the healthier choice, even as I carry my heavy grudges around my neck in a bucket. I’m still angry, or at least annoyed, with people who are long dead or otherwise oblivious to my ire. They have forgotten their trespasses against me. I can’t.

A friend once insisted I make up with someone. “It’s called learning,” I replied. “They treated me badly, and I won’t give them more opportunities to repeat the offense.”

I remained obstinate, especially since the offender expressed no remorse and failed to apologize. They were drunk at the time, and their anti-social behavior was habitual. They may not even have the courtesy to remember they passed my standard for assholery.

The best I could hope for might be an insincere apology followed by the observation that I am overly sensitive. In which case, their penance shall be a throat punch.

Advising someone to forgive and forget is easy, but how do you do it?

When Tony Stark meets Bruce Banner for the first time, he’s intrigued by how he controls himself. Banner doesn’t allow his anger to turn him into the Hulk. Iron Man asks, “You’ve really got a lid on it, haven’t you? What’s your secret? Mellow jazz, bongo drums, huge bag of weed?”

But we all know Bruce Banner’s secret. As he tells Captain America, “I’m always angry.”

I await your helpful suggestions and judgemental comments.