Scott Sherman Online

This is what "contentment" looks like.

Being a single parent with primary custody isn't easy. And when I say "isn't easy," I mean, "bone-crushingly hard." There isn't a moment I'm not either taking care of the kids, spending time with them, thinking of them, or missing them. Everyday, I "sacrifice" some aspect of my sanity, time or opportunity for them. 

Still, the rewards are...I can't even think of an adequate word. Endless? Incomparable? Immeasurable? Yes, all of those and more. 

Parenthood is life-defining. Of all the roles I fill on an almost daily basis, my day job,being a son myself, friend, writer, photographer, neighbor...whatever, being a father comes first, second and third.

Of course, all of that is in the abstract. Reality is having to make breakfast, lunch and dinner for three of us almost every day, while maintaining a house that's at least neat and clean enough to avoid being featured on a future episode of "Hoarders," dealing with saved-to-the-last-minute homework, endless visits to the pediatrician, so much laundry that I sometimes imagine my neighbors are sneaking theirs in, too, and two pre-adolescents who, while being, overall, "good" boys, nonetheless have the temerity to act like, well, two pre-adolescent boys. 

Have I mentioned yet how friggin' tired I am? 

Which brings us back to those abstract "rewards." The other day, I sent out a Tweet because I wanted to memorialize the overwhelming love I feel some nights as I put the kids to sleep. (Other nights I'm so exhausted myself, I wouldn't feel the impact of a Mack truck, not to mention sentimentality.) I wanted to put it into words, because while the annoyances and dependencies are daily, the rewards sometimes have to be sought out and remembered. They don't catch our attention the way the negative things do. 

The picture below illustrates the opposite. One morning this week, I thought my little one (David, now seven) looked so cute sleeping I had to grab my camera for a quick snapshot. Unfortunately, as seen below, the sound of of the shutter woke him, and he opened his eyes with a suspicious "who goes there?" glare. 

Seeing it was me, he pulled up the covers, scooted down into them, and grinned so broadly it transformed the countours of his face.

Here's what I imagine: The unfamilair sound awakened him with a start, eliciting a cautious glance to see what was happening. Then, seeing it was me, he knew it was safe to snuggle back in. His sleeply little self settled in with the smile of a boy who knows his father not only loves him, but is there for him, in this case, literally watching over him. His expression is one of pure contentment: a warm bed, time to dawdle, and a dad as dependable and present as his bedside lamp. 

Before he came to me through foster care, David's first year-and-a-half were no picnic. He was the most distrustful, frightened little thing you could imagine. I won't go into details, but he had every reason to think adults were those Big Things that hurt and/or abandoned you. 

I don't think he feels that way anymore. 

LIke I said, the rewards are fleeting. Few are captured in memory, let alone in pictures. But here's one I'll always cherish. I think you can see why. 

 (click to embiggen) 

 

Now I'm a PUBLISHER, too! The new world of the author.

Yes, a lot of my peers have done it already, so I'm hardly a trailblazer. But I just had my first experience writing a book specifically for Kindle, hiring a cover artist, an editor, and posting it for sale through the Kindle Direct Publishing platform.

You can acutally hire an expert who will do all this for you (not the writing part, but, thinking about it, I guess you can contract that out, too), but I decided to be a little more hands-on. The book is a novella, so I don't want to charge more than 99 cents, which means I'll probably wind up losing money on the whole exercise anyway. Might as well keep the costs as low as possible. 

Anywayyy...I hit the "publish" button at about 9am on Sunday, Feb 19, 2012. The process is supposed to take 12 hours - we'll see. In the meantime, there were some annoying glitches. I couldn't get the inside cover to display for the longest time, and the book won't show me as the author in the preview. I'm hoping that gets worked out in Amazon's pubishing process. 

In the meantime, I'm SO excited! If you're interested in self-pubbing, feel free to contact the people who helped me produce that at least looks professional (they're not to blame for the tale, mind you, just the trimmings. Don't blame them if you get too grossed out or scared by the story. That's on me.)

Cover artist: The incredibly talented and prolific Carl Graves.

Copy Editor: Literally, one of the nicest women I've ever had the pleasure with which to work. Plus, she catches everything! The lovely and talent Diana Cox.

UPDATE: Amazon underpromised and overdelivered, making the book available for a sale in about seven hours. you can find it here, and it can be yours for less than a buck! 

Children Will Leave You...But Not Quite Yet

I happened to take picutres of my sons as they left school today and headed for my car. It was only afterwards, loading them onto my computer, that I noticed what the shots said about them. Here's what I mean:

First of all, they're smiling. That's a good sign. When they burst into tears at the sight of me, I worry.

On the left is my 11-year-old, Sasha. Look at what a pre-teen he is. Backpack slung across his shoulders, longish-hair a declaration of independence (he gels it every morning), head thrown back in Jonas-Brother casualness, he's working on advancing his adolecence arrogance. He's still too much of a sweetheart to make for a convincing teenage terrorist, but he's trying cockiness on for size.

On the right is, David, my seven-year-old, literally clinging to his youth. He decorated that stuffed animal in school today, and he holds to his face like a lover he's presenting for my approval. Later, in the car, he'll keep it there, the reassuring softness a security against the trials of another long day. 

Everyday, I see them growing, changing, getting ready to move on. Someday, they'll leave me. But not yet. 

Looking for horror fans to beta test my new book

I’m finalizing my first original piece specifically written for sale on the Kindle - "The High Price of Pest Control." It's a horror novella (roughly 13,00 words, or one fifth full novel length), about a man who thinks he’s buying a new kind of roach-elimination device, and winds up making a whole different kind of deal. 

Today, we might call the protagonist part of the “one-percent.” Kendell Krill is a man who values everything according to its material worth. He doesn't mind bending a few rules, or breaking a few hearts, to get what he wants. But he’s about to find out that while everything might have its price, the cost isn’t always paid in cash. 

Sadly, “The High Price of Pest Control” won’t be propelling me into the one percent anytime soon. I’m planning to sell it for a whopping ninety-nine cents as a “gateway” into the Kevin Connor books, “First You Fall” and “Second You Sin.”  I’m a little concerned the tone is so different from that funny, sexy, romantic mystery series. There is some humor, but it's more Stephen King than Janet Evanovich. 

Still, I  believe it's worth trying. I think readers are smart. They understand an author may play with different styles and genres, but if you like his or her writing, the ride will always be fun. I’m thinking of inspriations like JA Konrath, Josh Lanyon and Jordan Castillo-Price whom I’ve followed through romances, mysteries, science fiction and various combinations within that have never failed to entertain me. 

In the meantime, I’m looking for interested early readers who would be willing to write an honest review of the story if so moved. I would either use a quote from the review in the product’s description, or ask you to post it as a review on Amazon.com when the book becomes available for purchase. 

The book is currently with the amazing and talented copy editor Diana Cox, who runs “Novel Proofreading.”  So, it is possible (probable) you’ll catch some errors in this early version. 

You will, however, enjoy the final finished cover, designed by the equally gifted Carl Graves of Extended Imagery. Take a look below - it gives you a pretty good idea of the story you'd be in for...

Please note I am only planning on giving out ten or so copies, so if you don’t receive one, it’s probably because you weren’t one of the first to request. Also, please only ask if you enjoy writing reviews - you wouldn't need to write more than a few sentences, but I am looking for your honest reactions.

Since I don’t want you to feel committed to reading something that might not be to your taste, here are the first couple of pages. Fair warning - the story gets a bit yucky at times (man vs roach is never a pretty battle), so if you’re extremely squeamish, you might want to pass. 

But I do hope you enjoy this brief preview and please let me know if you’re interested in the rest of the story through this link. 

 The High Price of Pest Control 

by Scott Sherman 

 DAY ONE AND A FEW RELEVANT FLASHBACKS

"So," the salesman asked me, his deep baritone and precisely clipped diction just two of the impressive, sophisticated traits I couldn’t help but notice as he crossed one absurdly long leg over the other at the ankle, "do we have a deal?"

Were I the kind of person vulnerable to feeling small in the presence of others, I might have felt intimidated by this perplexing figure. 

His voice. The high quality of his designer clothing. The impeccably mirror-bright shine of his shoes. Those were the kinds of details I always noticed on a man. 

Well, there were other details I noticed, too. For those details, the less clothing the object of my attention wore, the better. But this meeting was strictly business. What I needed to focus on in this exchange were signs that’d tell me if my visitor was someone with whom I’d want to do business. 

Yes, my mind wandered. Their suitability for business or sex. I suppose those were the scales on which I measured most men. The vast majority weren’t worth my time for either. The occasional candidate rated highly for both. Those were the men I was most careful to avoid. 

Of course, after what the salesman had just shown me, I believe that distracting myself with these introspective ramblings may have been a kind of defense mechanism. They certainly kept me from asking questions that, in retrospect, I really should have.   

Neither the vendor nor what he was selling were what I'd expected when he’d arrived an hour earlier for his appointment. I’d opened the door and been astounded to see the elegant figure before me. 

He was tall and thin, pale as a corpse, with sharp, hawklike features and a lightning-white cap of closely cropped hair. Startlingly blue eyes met mine with deliberate directness as he stood awaiting entrance. 

"Atrox Pravus," he announced, his voice sonorous and without accent. He looked like he could have come from anywhere. Or nowhere. 

He reached lanky, glossily manicured fingers into the jacket of his expertly fitted black wool suit. Armani, I'd guess. He extracted a smoothly polished silver case. With the casual ease of a magician performing a favorite trick, he slid it open with the same hand, revealing a stack of cream-colored business cards. With his thumb, he pushed one towards me. It’s textured linen finish and raised lettering indicated fine craftsmanship and expensive craftsmanship. 

 "Teremus Exterminators," he continued, as I read. "Guaranteed to remove unwanted pests from your life." 

I stood in the doorway a bit dumbly, stalled by Mr. Pravus's stylish and well-appointed appearance. This was not what I expected. He was not what I expected. Where was the biohazard suit, the mask, the metal canister of insecticide I expected he’d be toting, like a fireman bringing oxygen to the scene of a blaze? I stared at him in confusion. Was he planning to bribe the bugs to leave my apartment? 

Mr. Pravus cleared his throat and the corners of his mouth pulled higher. "Mr. Krill," he asked respectfully, his respectful tone free of impatience or irritation, as if he had not only impeccable manners but all the time in the world, "may I come in?"  

  --- End of First Section -- 

 

 

A Milestone for Me

This is half-brag/half reader-appreciation. Since the latter makes me sound more magnanimous, let's go with that, cool.

For the first time ever, I had BOTH of my books in the top 100 LGBT fiction listing on Amazon.com. I can't tell you how embarrassingly proud and thankful I was. It really was a dream come true. I'm certainly not the first writer to have achieved that, nor the most represented - there are authors with five and six books on the list. 

But it was for me, and you know what they say about the first time - it's hotly anticipated, never forgotten, and over too quickly. 

Thanks to eveyrone who bought, borrowed and enjoyed the book. Special thanks to those of you who took the time to write such unbelievavlly kind and generous reveiws on Amazon.com. I think they really help.

xoxox

 

Scott 

FInally, It's All Available!

I’ve spent the past year tirelessly working to complete Second You Sin and the next book in the series, due out within a year.  

In the meantime, First You Fall went out of print, due to business reasons related to the original publisher (which, to my knowledge, is not reprinting any of its back catalog, or accepting new manuscripts). Since I couldn’t stand the thought of Second You Sin being out there without First You Fall available, I’ve also been trying to get First You Fall back into print and available for e-readers. 

I can’t tell you how difficult and confusing this whole publishing this. Well, I could tell you, but you’d be bored and I’d sound whiny. Charmingly whiny, I'm sure, but still. 

You can get First You Fall on Amazon in here in print or here for Kindle.

Second You Sin, published by Kensington (thanks, guys!) is available on Amazon for print or Kindle, too.

Thanks for waiting and for your support. I hope you enjoy them!

 

Children Beware

So, I'm at the Fort Lauderdale Airport, waiting on line to buy a magazine for my flight home. The woman in front of me, maybe in her forties, holds a box up to the cashier. Although she's wearing a tacky souvenir t-shirt, she seems to be a normal person. A typical tourist. She certainly doesn't appear mentally-retarded or obviously deranged.

The box she's holding contains an assortment of chocolates.  I can't see them, but the whole front of the package is a clear plastic cover, so I'd imagine it would be evident to her what was inside.

"Excuse me," the woman says to the cashier, "but I'm thinking of buying this for a child. Is this OK for a two-year old?"

"It's chocolate," the cashier responds in a heavily accented voice. She appears to be in her mid-fifties, pleasant enough, but there's nothing in her demeanor that screams "child safety expert."

"Yes, yes, I know," the passenger responds, "but is it OK for a two-year old?"

"It's chocolate," the cashier repeats. Its not clear to me if she understands the question. "It's good."

"Yes," the woman says, "but are there little pieces in it? I'm worried about him choking. Is is safe for a two-year old?"

There's a pause as the cashier carefully considers the woman's concerns. Or, maybe not. Certainly, no mental process is observable on her impassive face. She could be mentally calculating a helpful answer or she could just be staring into space. It's hard to tell.

"It's chocolate," she eventually offers. "It's good."

By this time, I've kind of stepped to the side to get a better look at the package in question. But it's held at an angle so I can't see much. I do, however, witness the customer break into a wide smile at the cashier's final assessment of this life-and-death question.

"Great!" the customer enthuses. "I'll take it." She puts the box on the counter and fishes for her credit card. "Thank you." Then, she buys the fucking chocolate!!!!!

Now, at this point, what you do? Do you point out to this woman that, other than confirming the fact that the item in question contained chocolates and that they were, in the cashier's opinion, "good," she's learned nothing that would give even the simplest soul comfort that these candies would not be injurious to her child's health? 

Do you say to the customer, "hey, do you mind if I get a look at that? I have a two-year old at home too, and he'd love...holy crap, are those razor blades in there?" Do you just mind your business? Do you suggest a parenting class?

I took the second option. But if I hear a two-year old choked on some chocolate, I'm going to feel terrible.

The Other Side of the Mike: My First Interviews for First You Fall

On The Digital Photography Show, I'm used to being the interviewer, but, with the release of my first novel, First You Fall, I've had to wear the opposite hat (because, you know, the concept of an "opposite hat" makes so much sense).

In any case, I've enjoyed the opportunity in the past few weeks to do two interviews in support of the book. The first was on HRC's The Agenda, hosted by HRC's Executive Director Joe Solmonese and the inimitable Mary Breslauer. Joe and Mary were really great. I thought we had a lot of fun, and I was totally jealous of the professional broadcasting equipement they get to use over at XM Radio. You can hear my interview on The Agenda here.

Next, I chatted with my friends Marc and Fausto over on Feast of Fools. Last year, both Feast of Fools and The Digital Photography Show were nominated for the "People's Choice Award" at The Podcast Awards. Sadly, neither of our shows won, although it was pretty amazing that we were even nominated when you consider that both shows made it to the top ten of over 4,000 nominated podcasts.

The Digital Photography Show was also nominated in the in the "Cultural/Arts" category, where we lost to National Public Radio's "This American Life." (Which was totally fair because you can see where The Digital Photography Show's amatuer budget and production values can  compete against the multimillion dollar juggernaut that is This American Life, which, by the way, is not even a podcast - it's a radio show show that is so popular that it also has a spin-off TV series on Showtime. Not that I'm bitter.)

In any case, while I went home empty-handed, Marc and Fausto took home the award for Best LGBT Podcast. It's no wonder - their show is enormously popular and extremely entertaining.

It was really great of the boys to have me on, and I was only too happy to throw on my Feast of Fools t-shirt and rock the interview with them.

Meanwhile, I have to say it's very weird being on the other side of the mike. Suddenly, I was feeling very Janet (Ms. Jackson if you're nasty) - I wanted to be the one in control. Luckily, all my interviewers were terrific and I had a crazy amount of fun. Thanks Joe, Mary, Marc and Fausto. (And thanks in advance to Oprah - just make sure you have me on with that delicious Nate Berkus, hear?)

From Air to Eternity

Six weeks after ditching Windows (sorry, Vista!) on my desktop, I've fallen a little in love with my iMac. 

It's not that things are that much easier on a Mac, because I don't find that they are. They're just different. And although Macs are supposedly the tools of artistic and visual thinkers, I think the Vista desktop is more attractive and useful than Panther. Certainly, Outlook 2007 is a more colorful and graphically interesting program than the Mac trinity of Mail, iCal, and Address Book (and why, for the sake of consistency, aren't they called iMail, iCal and iAddress?). 

There are also many great programs on Windows that I miss.

But Macs seem to work better. My Vista desktop, like all my other Windows machines, used to churn and freeze more a someone making butter in the snow. No matter how souped-up a computer I'd get, there were always inexplicable delays, crashes and incompatibilities. I finally had to accept that I was spending more time troubleshooting and tweaking my computers than I was getting anything done. 

So far, my Mac desktop has frozen up a few times, but always recovered perfectly. Switching programs is effortless and no matter how many I have running at the same time, I don't feel the sluggishness I'd so often suffer under Windows.  Do Macs allocate memory more efficiently? Beats me.

After six weeks of using my iMac, though, I began to really hate my Windows notebook, which suffered from every infirmity that plagued the other Vista machines I've run. It's just painful to use it.

So, I'm ditching Windows on the my laptop, too.  

I'm typing this entry at Barnes and Noble on my shiny new MacBook Air.  Even though it has a moderate processor and a slow hard drive, this thing is smooth to groove. I have several programs running - nothing heavy, like Photoshop -  but Firefox, Mail, Address Book, iCal, Imagewell, and some utilities like TextExpander, and everything's running beautifully. 

I wish the Air was more powerful, and I hate the insane paucity of ports (One USB port, Steve Jobs? Are you kidding me???), but I always like the smallest, lightest computer possible.  

I have fourteen days to play with this thing before I decide if I want to keep it. But I'm already a little in love. Not because it's sexy (although it is) and not because it's so tiny (which it isn't) but because it works. 

Talking Dirty with Megan Hart

Smart and hot Megan Hart, author of erotic romances including Tempted, interviewed me about my new book, First You Fall: A Kevin Connor Mystery, for her blog, Reading In Bed. 

Megan's naughty in the best sense of the word, and her books are great steamy fun for grown ups. 

You can read our playful interview here.