My Hard Earned "American Socialite" Vacation Is Nearly Over

Gotta make sure there's still time for kayaking

After the initial rush that came with the launch of my novel American Socialite (marketing my book, gauging reactions, keeping an eye on sales), I decided to take the rest of the summer off. That didn't mean I was going to stop logging into work each day at Post University or cease writing articles for Boxing Insider. It simply meant that, rather than obsess over American Socialite's journey through the book selling process, I would instead swim, kayak, nap, eat, and drink. Needless to say, I've done all those things over the past several weeks, and have had a pretty damn good time doing them.  

With September right around the corner, though, I realize that it's almost time to get back in the figurative saddle. A new semester is about to start - that means a new term with new students. The weather's about to change, too. Going to Lake Quassapaug five days a week is about to be replaced by swimming laps at the YMCA. What's more, the sport of boxing is heating up after a long, COVID induced drought, and I've got to do some deep research on Edith Wharton for an article I'm working on for The Berkshire Edge. Perhaps most importantly, though, I've got to get back into gear as a novelist.

Don't get me wrong...I haven't been slacking. I just feel Hemingway may well have been right when he referred to creativity in terms of a well. I can be productive to the point I risk having  the well begin to drain and the quality of my work suffer. I only want to produce fiction when the PASSION is there, which means I sometimes have to force myself to take a break. Again, this isn't laziness - in fact, it's more like torture, for a writer is never more comfortable than when writing. Needless to say, I have the idea for my next novel all lined up. I just have to be sure there's enough water in my well for what promises to be a long, hard journey. 

And then, of course, there's the matter of American Socialite, a novel that's only been on the market for less than two months. It's already selling well, but like all authors, I want my work to sell better than it is. Which means I'm going to need to buckle down and prepare for the second round of salesmanship that awaits me in the very near future. With all this in mind, I suppose I better savor the remaining days of summer while they last - busy times are around the corner. 

To pick up your copy of American Socialite, just click on the link below. 

https://www.amazon.com/American-Socialite-Sean-Crose/dp/B08C8RW7N4

The Joys Of Self Publishing My Novels

 And so now my second novel, American Socialite, has been on the market for just over a month and is doing quite well for itself. I wasn't sure this would be the case. We're in the middle of a pandemic, after all, one that finds a lot of people out of work. What's more, these are tumultuous times. To make things all the more uncertain, I've never written anything like American Socialite before. My first novel, The Regulator, was set against the turmoil of Shay's Rebellion. American Socialite, on the other hand, is based on the true story of Napoleon's scandalous, strong willed American sister in law. Although both novels take place in the earlier days of the United States, they are nonetheless world's apart.

Needless to say, my worries proved to be unfounded. As of my writing this entry, American Socialite is tracking to sell better than The Regulator did- and The Regulator sold surprisingly well. Frankly, I have to give Amazon some credit here. I say Amazon specifically, because that was the entity I chose to publish my work through. There are other outlets for authors to use, of course. The main point is that self-publishing has proved to be quite rewarding for me. This is perhaps the biggest surprise of all. If you had asked me just two short years ago if I would be happy being a self published author, I'd have probably pushed out my chest and shaken my head. Now, though, I've seen the light.

Not only has self-publishing allowed me to see my work in print and on Kindle, it's given me incredible freedom. I get to decide when my work is ready to get out into the world. I get to decide how it will be presented to the market. I even get to decide what cover to use. Important and inspiring stuff. Although I wouldn't recommend anyone self publish until their work is as strong as possible, I would highly recommend self publishing for a person whose book is ready to go. 

The Regulator, my first novel, has an interesting history behind it. The right kind of people (meaning those on the inside of the publishing racket) liked it. Ultimately, though, no one wanted to put the money up to bring it out into the world. Having already known what it's like to get my writing published for money thanks to my short fiction and work as a boxing journalist, I ultimately decided to go it alone through Amazon publishing. I was hesitant, however. Would people really want to buy a self published work? Would they even take it seriously? In the end, would anyone actually want to read my book?

Apparently, people did.  What's more, I enjoyed the experience of self publishing so much, I never even attempted to have my new novel, American Socialite, get into the hands of a publisher. The novel launched in mid-July on Amazon, and I've been thoroughly pleased with the results. I've got my third novel already in mind and will start seriously working on it at the end of summer. Until the, I'll simply enjoy the success of American Socialite, and let people know that quite often, self publishing is indeed the way to go. 

*You can pick up American Socialite by clicking on the kink below:

https://www.amazon.com/American-Socialite-Sean-Crose/dp/B08C8RW7N4

How History Is Only The Starting Point for "American Socialite"

Just days away.

These are frightening times. I don't think anyone can rightly deny it. Times have been frightening before, however. Really frightening. Those who still remember living through the Depression and Second World War could probably teach the rest of a thing or two about living through the worst of periods...in a way we could relate to, no less. That's what's cool about history - we can look at it and see ourselves looking right back at us.

As I've said before, it's my belief that humans are essentially constructed the same way. We all have the same emotional traits and reactions in our possession. We certainly deal with them differently, but I challenge you to find a person who hasn't been scared, or happy, or bored, or aroused. That person doesn't exist. Times change - but people, by and far, don't.

That's why I enjoy penning historical fiction. I can actually put myself into the past. Rather than grind out stories about my own experiences, hoping someone, somewhere, somehow finds them interesting, I can place my obsessions within the context of a particularly colorful venue. That being said, I'm particularly pleased with the subject of American Socialite, which will be on sale next Thursday.

Elizabeth "Betsy" Bonaparte (1785-1879) was a real life person, one of the most colorful I'd ever read of. For years I found her's to be a story that was dying to be told. But the story offered to be so much more than places and people and dates. The story offered to provide  insight into the human experience we all live through. Hence, I  simply used the facts as a starting point and made American Socialite a novel. Not just any novel, but a novel of extreme highs and searing lows, of explosive international events and the quiet moments we all find ourselves reflecting in.

Mainly, though, American Socialite is a book about a woman who chooses to do things her way rather than someone else's. Her willfulness takes her to the peak of elite society, but also brings with it extreme  consequences. Betsy is a character with sky high expectations. Whether or not those expectations are met can only be revealed in the reading. If I do say so myself, the reading is well worthwhile.

"All good books have one thing in common," said Ernest Hemingway, "they are truer than if they had really happened." I believe those words ring pretty true in this case.

My 7 Amazing (Or Not) Rules For Writing A Novel

Elizabeth Bonaparte, who American Socialite is based on.

With the publication of my second novel, American Socialite, just around the corner, I've hunkered down to give my book that last shot of intense attention it needs before it's fired off into the world. I'm currently working with a cover artist, carefully giving the manuscript a final read over (the most grueling part of the entire process, by far) and am trying to promote the novel as effectively as possible.

With so much going on, though, I thought it would be good to let off some steam. I recently read articles from a well known publication where famous writers presented their 7 best pieces of writing advice. While I'm far from famous myself, I thought it would be fun to take a break and present 7 rules of my own.

And so, with no further ado, here are:

My 7 Amazing (Or Not) Rules For Writing A Novel

1. Only write something you're truly excited about.
2. Become an expert (or close to an expert) on whatever your subject is.
3. Don't rush, either to start or to finish. 
4. Except when you're in the zone. Then put the pedal to the metal.
5. Give your novel theme songs that you play on loop while working on it. 
6. Take breaks from your novel when needed.
7. Revise and polish until you think you might be losing it. Then take the hint your mind is giving you and wrap it up.

Each writer has her or her own process, of course, but this one certainly works for me.

Remember to pick up American Socialite at Amazon.com when it goes on sale July 16th!

American Socialite Is On The Way

Hi Everyone:

I'm pleased to announce that on July 16th, my new novel, American Socialite, will be available at Amazon. This is a work I think you'll find quite interesting.

A product of the newly formed United States, Betsy Patterson wants more. She may be the daughter of a wealthy Baltimore merchant, but  Betsy feels life in America is a completely dull affair. Educated by her mother, Betsy longs for the finer things in life. Swept off her feet by Jerome Bonaparte, brother of the infamous French leader Napoleon, Betsy finds herself being offered entrance into a world beyond her wildest dreams.

Napoleon, however, has other plans.

Set against the elaborate backdrop of American and European high society, American Socialite is a tale of determination and intrigue. Based on an incredible true story, it leaps from continent to continent, from elaborate balls to luxurious places, from world changing events to one woman's desire to lead the life she's set out for herself - no matter what the cost.

At present time, my goal is to keep all of you up to date as the narrative makes the journey from manuscript to finished product.

Things are moving fast, but I'll be keeping everyone abreast.

Pancho Villa And The Dodge Touring Car

The lavish hacienda proves to the world that you are a man of importance, as does your wealth and your ever present team of bodyguards. You no longer feel important, though, not like you did during the Revolution when your army was the great power of northern Mexico. What times those were. Federales to the south, the American army to the north, and there you were making deals with Hollywood studios. If only you had emerged victorious. If only you had won the war.

You make your way outside the cool recesses of the hacienda and step towards the 1919 Dodge Brothers Touring Car, where your secretary and several bodyguards await. You used to require dozens of men to travel into town with you. Now, however, you feel like you might as well be a salesman from the far end of Chihuahua. For all you know there isn't need for any bodyguards at all. Still, you feel it will be good to get away from the hacienda for a few hours. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Stepping inside the car, you tell yourself a prison is still a prison, no matter how beautiful it may be.

You decide to drive. The  Dodge is an impressive vehicle, one well worth driving, you feel. As you slowly pull away from the hacienda, you wonder if Obregon ever gets behind the wheel of a car. Probably not, you grunt in amusement. That paranoid bastard most likely spends his days worrying about who may take away his power. He certainly worried about you during the Revolution. He had good reason to, as well. Now, though, now that you've made peace and matters have settled down, it takes him weeks – weeks! – to even return a letter. You shake your head, then glance at Tamayo in the front passenger's seat. He's been your loyal secretary for years, and no doubt will remain so out of habit. There was a time, though – not all that long ago – where someone might literally kill Tamayo in order to take his place by your side.

The Dodge suddenly stalls. Your bodyguards instantly get off the sideboards and start pushing forward as you reignite the toe ignition. Not all that long ago, a stalled vehicle might have been cause for concern, even if it was only still for a few seconds. Those days are over. Glancing at the mountainous backdrop as the Dodge resumes its journey towards town, you wonder what kind of greeting will await you once you arrive at Parral. Tamayo had tried to make a call to Lara, but found that the lines were down. Life is nothing, you conclude, if not a series of inconveniences. You’ll be happy to arrive at Parral though, happy to see Lara and the troops. You push down on the gas until the vehicle is cruising at around forty miles an hour. High speeds used to be a must. Now you simply want to get to town.

Yet Parral seems much different today. As soon as you cross Barrera Street, you notice the entire town is quiet, quiet in a way you’ve never seen. You almost wish you had stayed at the hacienda, as your mind is going back to times when fifty bodyguards would lead you through the streets as people thronged to see you, to wave to you, to share eye contact with you. How it all seemed so natural at the time. How unnatural you realize it all was now. You can’t get to Lara and his men soon enough. With them you will be appreciated. With them your deeds will be remembered. Only fifteen minutes later, the duty officer informs you Lara and his men aren’t at the base. They’re off on maneuvers up in the mountains. Getting back behind the wheel of the Dodge, you turn to Tamayo and shake your head.

“I’m forgotten,” you tell him.

“Nonsense,” he replies. “Remember, the phone lines are down.”

“I told him last week I was coming.”

You turn the Dodge  around, and head up Juarez Street towards home. Your mind begins to wander as you drive through the lifeless town. You were the center of  attention once. Some glorified you for helping the poor, for fighting the oppressors. Others hated you for using a justifiable cause to engage in diabolical behavior. How many people, you wonder, did you kill in cold blood, not in combat, but in cold blood? How much criminal behavior did you engage in simply to further a cause you believed in? Enough that you used to make sure no one ever walked behind you. And now, you think, you can’t even get attention while driving through the middle of Parral.

A elderly gentleman suddenly steps forward.

“Viva Villa!” he yells with a smile as you slow the Dodge to a halt.

You smile back, happy that someone, yes someone, finally remembers you, feels the need to grab your attention, to take it upon himself to call out your name in praise. It actually, you feel, makes the entire journey worth while. Less than a second later, forty bullets rip through the car, killing everyone inside, as well as those riding on the sideboards.

Emulating Cody

The WGC - There Will Never Be Another

      One of my fonder memories of the last stages of her life would be holding her before I went into the shower. I’ve always been an odd duck; and, one of the things I loved to do each night is to literally sit on the bathroom floor and listen to the water run inside the shower before hopping in and washing up. Cody would step into the bathroom sometimes and approach me. I would pick her up and hold her in my arms right there on the floor. She could hear the water running right behind her head, but Cody trusted me enough to resist her feline impulse to get away. She would simply rest there in my arms, looking up, content.

      Cody, who I’ve long referred to as the WGC – the World’s Greatest Cat – passed away last Sunday. We were with her for almost ten years. Needless to say, my wife and are grieving. Profoundly. We’re told the grief will lessen, but I doubt it will ever go away. Frankly, I don’t think it should, at least not entirely. For Cody was one of us. She, my wife, and I were a unit, a team. Our home didn’t consist of a couple with a pet. It consisted of a family of three. And an immediate member of that family is now gone. There’s probably a better word than “sad” to describe how I’m feeling at the moment, but I can’t think of one. To be frank, I’ve never felt so sad in my life.

      Yet, all is not darkness. It rarely is. Although Jen and I are in mourning, we’re blessed with the realization that we had someone truly special in our lives. I used to tell Cody she was a gift from God – because she was. Happy to see us, even when we were at our worst, trusting of us to a fault, and affectionate (not always a common trait among felines), Cody made sure we knew she was among us, was one of us, that we were important to her. This ability to make her presence felt extended beyond asking for “wet treats” and whipped cream. “Time to wake up Sean,” Jen would tell her in the morning, and off she’d go to the bedroom to rouse me. Cody didn’t want anything in particular. She just wanted me up and about with the rest of the family. She didn’t need to do it, but she did.

      Cody made you feel special.

      And that, I suppose, is the lesson from all this. We ache for all those we love and lose, but those who elevate us, who make us feel more special than we deserve to, who want us around when no one else in their right mind would want to be near us, truly are treasures that should be cherished – even after they’re gone. Jen and I fervently hope and pray we see Cody again. Until then, though, we have to move on, keep her memory alive, and – yes – take a lesson from her time with us. For those who elevate others through their love and actions are not only worthy of our praise, they’re worth emulating, as well.