Subconscious of Your Writing Part 1 by Ken La Salle

Author Ken La Salle
Author Ken La Salle

The other day, I found myself saying “A lot of my writing is very subconscious.” This wasn’t the first time I had said that and wondered if I was unique or if other writers also find themselves writing just as much with their subconscious mind as with their conscious mind. But this time I decided to find out, which I suppose explains the piece you are reading right now.

So, what exactly do I mean when I say that my writing is subconscious? When I tell my wife, she just figures that if I’m writing – wide awake and aware of what I’m doing – I must be conscious of it, and rightly so. “Subconscious writing” makes about as much sense as “subconscious accounting”… doesn’t it? Continue reading “Subconscious of Your Writing Part 1 by Ken La Salle”

Everything Worth Saying Has Already Been Said

The Library of Congress in Washington, DC has 838 miles of bookshelves and over 30 million books. Thirty million. Actual physical paper printed with words. In the Old Library at Trinity College in Dublin, there are 200,000 books that date back hundreds of years or more. They can’t be opened because of their age and many of the authors are now long forgotten, but if you stand in the middle of the room and stare a while, it is easy to believe that every meaningful thought in history originated somewhere within those volumes. Until you read about the ancient Library of Alexandria in Egypt that was started in 200 BC, held 700,000 scrolls, and was around for six centuries.

It’s enough to make a person stop writing. I mean, have you ever gone into just a regular bookstore or city library and been overwhelmed by all of those stories? Have you thought to yourself, not only will no one person ever be able to read all those books in a lifetime, but what do I possibly have to add that hasn’t already been said? I certainly have. Continue reading “Everything Worth Saying Has Already Been Said”

Tuesday Tutorial: Bublish

All right everyone. I will take the plunge and try my hand at a tutorial. Let me tell you about Bublish and guide you through how to use it. Hey, if I can do this, anyone can. No, really, I mean it. Please do forgive the lack of artistry on the arrows. I am no artist.

Bublish has been around only since June of this year, so I had the good luck to be an early subscriber. Bublish is the brainchild of Kathy Meis and Charles Wyke-Smith. I have had extensive email contact with Kathy and she was kind enough to spend 40 minutes one-on-one with me when I hit a snag. (Thanks Kathy.) I have nothing but praise for the support I have received.

What makes Bublish unique is that it has the author take snippets of text from their book and asks them to write an insight about that snippet, then share it on Facebook and Twitter. Do this regularly and you will have tweets going out that are non-repetitive, interesting and – my favourite – not pushy buy my book spam messages. They are little hooks meant to entice a prospective reader to take a closer look at your work. Heck, they might even want to buy it. The links for buying are on the site, so that is just a click away. Continue reading “Tuesday Tutorial: Bublish”

That’s the End? Are You Kidding Me?

How could I go wrong, right? It was a New York Times bestseller, written by a popular author, published by a company similar to one using a logo of a flightless aquatic bird. Took five weeks to get it on inter-library loan. It started well enough. A woman in a dull but dependable marriage finds herself drawn to a handsome stranger with blinding white teeth and spurs. Not the most original of plots, but good writing. The conflict builds. The author raises the stakes. The heroine digs herself in deeper. I was led to believe that the ending required a choice: stay with Mr. Hot Stuff, or go home to Mr. Dependable. Even if she chooses Plan C and walks off alone into the sunset, she MUST ACTIVELY MAKE A CHOICE. The credibility of the story depends on it. And then… fate intervenes. Mr. Hot Stuff dies in a random accident. The choice is gone. The author has blown it. The book flies across the room. I make many apologies to Marion the Librarian and slip her a sizable fine. Continue reading “That’s the End? Are You Kidding Me?”