Tag: writing

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Write Drunk, Edit Slightly Tipsy, Wow the Fans

Hemingway said, “Write drunk, edit sober.” I say, stop being such a chicken. Take more risks.

In my fiction, I look for opportunities to do innovative and unexpected things. The chapter titles to This Plague of Days trilogy aren’t just numbers. Go to the table of contents, and the chapters form an epic poem that hints at the complex events across the narrative. Is that weird? I don’t care if it’s weird. The clues to the story are there, but it’s actually more fun for the reader to go back to read that poem again after they’ve completed the trilogy. They’ll gain a deeper understanding once they’ve read the story. (In gaming, they call that replay value.)

In my new thriller, every chapter title is one word that ends in -ion, and relates to what’s happening in that chapter. For instance, instead of Copyright, Table of Contents, and About the Author, you get Notification, Configuration, and Confession, respectively. (And yes, there really are that many useful words with the -ion suffix.)

Some publishers would clutch their pearls at such deviations from the norm. Who cares? I am the helmsman on this voyage, and I say we skip the Panama Canal and risk the storms around the Cape of Good Hope. No one remembers a voyage over calm seas.

Have you got anything besides title tricks, Rob?


Sure. Proper editing ensures that we communicate well and do not confuse readers in our efforts to entertain them. I’m not getting in the way of that, but I will deliver the unexpected. Editors make prose clear, not safe. Who said it was supposed to be safe? To quote another sage of our age, Captain James Tiberius Kirk insisted, “Risk is our business.” Put another way: Let’s be interesting. Resurrect old idioms. Come up with new idioms. Experiment with expressions that have never existed in real life. (Not yet, anyway. I’m hoping some of my innovations catch on.)

I look at Papa’s advice with the same dim view as, “Kill your darlings.” That mindset done too broadly will eliminate your most clever stuff. Inside jokes can be okay. That’s the writer writing for themselves and the die-hard fans. As long as you don’t disappear up your own metaphorical butt, it works a treat. “Works a treat” is a dated British expression some beta reads would flag. Leave it in. They are readers, so assume they’re smarter than stale toast. Trust them to pick up context clues. Free yourselves! Break the rusty chains of the Olde Gods!

Readers who aren’t in the know will skip right by sub-references.

In 1985, I met with the great science fiction writer Spider Robinson. I was a fan, but I hadn’t read all of his stuff yet. He sat me down over coffee and spoke of his origins as a writer. He looked very serious as he opined something like, “I was on my bed, naked, with some good tunes on the stereo, a drink in one hand, some hash in the other, and a book in my lap. It occurred to me that I was bored.” So Spider decided to write his own novels instead of just reading them.

Only after I read more of his work did I run across those words in one of his novels. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was quoting himself. Good on him. When you’ve got good words, don’t give the same speech once.

On Black Friday, I visited Villains, the companion shop to Heroes, the best comics shop in Other London. I bypassed the men-in-tights stuff of my youth and went straight to the indie publishers’ offerings. On the hunt for fresh and interesting stories, I found them. Think in terms of Harvey Pekar’s American Splendor. Or lush watercolors without a single line of dialogue that still tells a story. I’m a fan of Iron Man, but you can’t say Marvel and DC are taking risks. Their products are dependable, but you won’t experience many new flavors.

Writers, take risks. Readers, please indulge us. We’ll make it more fun for both of us.

Now about those pictures

Last night, I could not sleep. With an appointment to get to this morning, I decided to do battle the snowstorm. The first snowfall has always been a tentative thing, a warning of what’s to come. It’s Motherhumping Nature asking, “Have you got your snow tires yet? Did you remember to pull the snow shovels from the shed?” (Yes, to the first question, negatory on the second, dammit.) No mere warning this time, though. Got a big dump of snow that is still pummeling us as I write this.

At 4:45 a.m., I was out there slinging it, testing my new hip. Worked fine and barely raised my heart rate. I shoveled about a foot of snow. By the time I was done that and had cleaned off the car, I had to shovel again. Dug a fresh six inches at 8:45 a.m. Saints preserve us, winter is here. I prefer palm trees, but I do like how quiet the landscape becomes once the sharp edges and hard surfaces are soundproofed under a thick blanket of snow.

And when it gets very cold — Moon cold — the snow squeaks underfoot. Of course, by then, I’m afraid to go outside and hide in my blanket fort, writing the next novel.

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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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Inspiration, Off the Beaten Track

Tired of endless tired movie sequels? Me, too. However, renewed creative energy and inspiration can come from anywhere. Maybe you’ll see it in a sunset or in a lyric from music that fires up your imagination. Today, I found the spark in a comic book store.

My son and I had a grand day out. After shopping for groceries and Christmas presents, he took me to Heroes, London’s largest comics shop. The last time I stepped inside Heroes, it was located across the street a couple of decades ago. I collected in the ’80s. When I bequeath my collection, it won’t amount to much monetarily. In the ’80s, everybody collected comics. But now, in 2024, the indies made me happy and brave.

Recently, I read a graphic novel about Leonard Cohen. I thought I already knew a lot about Cohen, but that graphic novel taught me a lot more. Djuna, by Jon Macy, is about Djuna Barnes, a fascinating literary figure of whom I knew nothing. I probably would not have discovered her biography were it presented in a different medium.

I’m not reading The Flash or Daredevil now. I’m reading inventive and original stories about what happens when Americans flee America and become illegal immigrants, That’s Americatown. Or how about Reckless? It’s a crime thriller by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips. Any Empire by Nate Powell “presents a vivid examination of war and violence, and their trickle-down effects on Middle America.”

When so much of what’s sold on Amazon begins to look the same, you have more alternatives. Small independent publishers with unique stories told in imaginative ways are waiting. Small indie publishers often do what huge publishers won’t. That applies to novels by independent publishers, too.

You’ll see what I mean when my next novel, Vengeance Is Hers, hits in 2025. Please stand by for that, but in the meantime, check out some graphic novels and see what you think. See things you never imagined you would see.

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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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Sincerely, what else can I do for you?

I’ve learned most about writing fiction from reading fiction, especially that of William Goldman. More than likely, you know his screenplays, most famously The Princess Bride. His novels are sublime and are now largely ignored as people favor the film medium. That guy sure knew how to delight with unexpected yet inevitable surprises.

For influences, I also have to name-check Stephen King for his dialogue and character work and Blake Crouch for pacing.

But this post isn’t about brilliant writing. I want to hear from you.

This post is about what else readers want, what you want.

It is startling how much work a publisher and author can put into promoting their books and still fail to move the needle. Our focus is pulled in many directions. The attention economy is fragmented. Marketing gurus insist an author newsletter is paramount, but very few people seem to read them. I’ve got a bunch of old subscriptions to newsletters sitting in my inbox. I will never get to them. Their appeal feels dated now.

What can I give you besides a great story and hours and hours of inexpensive entertainment?

  • A revered teacher once said, “You know what people want? Everything yesterday, through the mail, for free.” That’s a high bar to meet for a micro-business, but there are free promotions. To launch the book, some readers will pick up freebies (hopefully to read, love, and review). I’ll apply for a Bookbub promotion and set up various giveaways to prime the algorithms and get reviews.
  • Audiobooks. That’s on my radar, and I do have a home studio. So far, I’ve only used the blanket fort for podcast interviews. However, I feel Endemic and Vengeance Is Hers need a female narrator, not my voice. It’s an expensive proposition with no guarantee of remuneration, but of course, that’s true of any enterprise. It’s a question of making the budget work while calculating the risks.
  • Merch. I’ve got T-shirts and bookmarks in the works. This is not usually a major factor, but I plan to sell a lot of my books in person in 2025, so extras are a sweet idea.
  • Special editions. Because I’m shipping from Canada and most of my readers are American, I haven’t seriously explored this before. However, with in-person selling, I see the value in making some of my books extra special. For select hardcovers, I plan to add ribbon bookmarks and painted book edges.
  • Social proof. When seeking validation, authors always think of reviews first, and they aren’t wrong. The more reviews a book gets, the more it pushes the online stores’ algorithms. Readers read reviews to make buying decisions. Mass mailings to Booktubers and Booktok folks can be prohibitively expensive. There’s still Bookfunnel for free review copies, but unless the reviewer can hold up your book on social media, it’s less impactful.
  • Awards. Some authors question their value, but it’s one more subtle way to reassure readers they are in good hands. I’ve won fifteen awards for my writing. Does that help? It doesn’t hurt to quote a third party’s enthusiasm when hyping a book. (Not all awards are created equal, but that’s a different post.)
  • Engagement. One of the joys of my life comes daily as I talk with readers who have become fans and friends. I post on social media, but the core group is Fans of Robert Chazz Chute on Facebook. As I worked to recover from two hip replacements last year, I got a lot of love, sympathy, and support there. That went far beyond what I could do for them as fans of my work.

Writing a novel is difficult. Finding readers is much harder.

It’s easy to overspend on marketing that goes nowhere. You can write a great book, but too often, it gets lost in the deluge. There are a hundred variables outside of the writer’s control. Hundreds of marketing companies and PR firms promise the world. Marketing gurus say they possess the special sauce or magic secret. None of them admit that luck and timing play a huge role in what ranks.

My dad was successful in business, and he often said something I hated. “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know.” I hated it most because (a) I’m an introvert pretending to be an extrovert, and (b) I suspect he was right. For instance, it seems the hosts of Slate podcasts will interview authors as long as the guest is a sister, mentor, someone they went to school with, or mentee. Incessant logrolling is strong with the elite, and I’m not in that club.

Note the sincere face as I ask this.

What can I give you?

I didn’t write this post to whine. I’m asking you, as a reader, what do you value? Endemic won multiple awards. This Plague of Days is a best-selling zombie apocalypse novel. Citizen Second Class is trenchant and relevant to our times. My crime fiction (The Hit Man Series and The Night Man) is both knuckly and funny. Besides offering compelling novels with surprising twists, heart, and action, what grabs your attention?

My team and I are working hard to make Vengeance Is Hers a great story. What else can I do to become one of your favorite authors?

Check out all my books using this universal Amazon link:

http://author.to/RobertChazzChute

The Night Man cover
Citizen Second Class
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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.