Why?

By Andrew E. Kaufman, author of psychological thrillers

Photo courtesy: Nikopoley

It's a loaded question, yes?

As a small Andrew, I was what one might call a Why Kid—you know the type, right? Every answer to every question was followed with a Why?  This would go on heedlessly (and perhaps annoyingly) for quite some time, until the person being questioned—usually an adult, often a teacher, and sometimes another kid—would get frustrated and yell, Shut the hell up!

Then I would be annoyed.

If we were tracking trends (also something I do rather obsessively), we might surmise this is why I ended up making a career out of answering the eternal question: Why?

And really, isn’t that what being a writer is all about?

When people ask how I come up with my ideas, how I create my characters, or how I plot my stories. Guess what I say?

Why?

Why, of course I do. In this case, however, it’s not actually a question (a relief, I’m sure), but more, it’s a truth, because every story I write begins this way.

In my first book, While the Savage Sleeps, it was: Why are two people, who have absolutely nothing in common and live in two different cities having seemingly similar creepy experiences that seemingly have nothing to do with each other?  Well, there were perhaps quite a few bodies dropping like flies everywhere and in rather hideous manners, but that was mainly the mood music.

In the Lion, the Lamb, the Hunted, it was: Why did Patrick find evidence of a murder among his hideously abusive, and incidentally, dead, mother’s belongings?

And in Darkness & Shadows, I asked: Why did the love of Patrick’s life die twice? Well, maybe that one’s more of a how, but you get the idea.

 

The point to all this? There are a few (What, did you expect the Why Child to only have one?)  

First, I think authors write books for the same reason that people like to read them. We’re insatiably curious (read: insatiably nosey). It’s not just enough to know that an eighty-six year-old grandmother was planting bodies in her tulip garden. We want to know why the hell she was doing it.

Second, whether we realize it or not, we’re all students of the human mind. We like to know how people’s brains work, or, for those of us who write our slightly off-color stories (read: bent), what makes them not work so much.

And last, never tell a writer to shut the hell up.  Don’t do it.

We get very annoyed.

Then we kill you off in our books.

Falling in love, one book at a time

by A.M. Khalifa, thriller writer, Google+

Recently, Peg Brantley wrote a great piece on the various criteria that force her to abandon a book. For avid readers, book-dumping is sacrilegious. But as competition heats up in the book market, ditching a lousy one to make way for more inspired reading is something we’re all getting used to.

Peg’s post and the lively debate that ensued touched upon key things that every author should pay attention to, such as failure to capture a reader's interest immediately, unlikable characters, factual errors, and implausible plots.

Each one of us has a clear notion of what makes an unreadable book, and the infractions an author can commit to leave us no option but to eject them without a parachute. But what about the books we fall in love with? I don’t mean books we really like, but the sort of works that take over your life while you are reading them and then render you forever beholden to the author’s spell.

Love is the operative term here. When I am reading an amazing book, it feels like a passionate romance, rather than a one-night stand. And it has to be love at first sight—I've never fallen madly in love with a book that failed to excite me from the opening line. When I'm smitten in a relationship with a great book, I can’t wait to finish whatever it is I am doing to get back to it. It’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing I think of before going to bed. In some cases I may even dream about it.

The perfect book is like a highly addictive drug. You don't have to nudge yourself to read it. In my case, while I can't wait to find out what happens next, I start getting withdrawal symptoms when I know I've read more than what I have left. Like all powerful addictions, a great book leaves you longing for more. So you scour the universe for everything else this writer has penned, and every piece of news, gossip or social media murmurs about what they could possibly be working on next. You'll even snoop around for fan fiction if you are quite desperate. And of course you start evangelizing on behalf of the book and its writer, like it was your new religion.

Outstanding books rob you of your sense of time and reality, like a mystical or transcendental experience. They displace you from your physical reality and immerse you in the dimensions expertly crafted by the author. At the very least, you will connect with the characters and wish you were with them in the same room, or that you could speak to them, befriend them, even fall in love with them. And in some cases, your connection with a character is so profound, you almost start morphing into them. The Life of Pi by Yann Martel and IQ84 by Haruki Murakami are two such stories that had this effect on me.

Invariably, a truly sublime book is one that expands your horizons and introduces you to worlds, concepts and emotions you weren't familiar with before you picked it up, but with which you become obsessed. And I don’t necessarily mean that all great books have to be educational. But I think they have to show you things you wouldn't have otherwise been able to see on your own.

When you’ve finished reading a book that fundamentally absorbs you, your own life and reality will seem a little insipid by comparison. And you will feel nostalgic for the daily company of its leading characters. Like best friends or family members that have left you behind.

As a writer, I too aspire for my readers to fall in love instantaneously with my writing. To be addicted to, be transposed and surprised by my stories. I want to be able to write the sort of book that would keep a reader logged in my universe long after they've put it down. Maybe even one that could change a few lives in the process. It's a tall order, but it gives me something to strive for.

Fellow writers, is your writing informed and influenced by how your favorite books impacted you? And readers, what's your definition of a great book?

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My bestselling novella, The Jewish Neighbor is temporarilyt on sale on Amazon for $0.99.

A.M. Khalifa's critically acclaimed debut novel, Terminal Rage, was recently described by Publishers Weekly as "dizzying, intricate, and entertaining." 

Foreword Clarion says, "Khalifa manages to pull off something that is often difficult to do in the crime-thriller genre—he keeps the novel unpredictable and lays out a plot so twisted that the puzzle picture morphs as more pieces are added."

The ebook version of Terminal Rage is now on sale for $0.99 on Amazon.

"Loved your Book, but I'll Pass on the Free Copies!"

by A.M. Khalifa, thriller writer, Google+

Imagine you walk out of the cinema raving about how much you enjoyed the movie, only to find the director or even producer of the film walking up to you, thanking you for your vocal praise, and proposing something along the following:

“Given how much you've enjoyed my film, I'd like to offer you ten free tickets to give to your friends and family. People who you think may enjoy this film as much as you did.”

How would you react? I know what I would do, I would grab the opportunity. Free tickets, right?

For the oddest reason, the same principle doesn't seem to apply to books. Every time a reader has given me a particularly glowing review of my debut novel, Terminal Rage, and I've connected with them offering free copies to spread the love, they’ve balked at the suggestion. Even friends and acquaintances. It’s almost as if there’s something inherently dirty about evangelizing on behalf of a book, but it’s okay to do for a film or other content types.

My friend the talented writer and blogger Scott Whitmore says "there is a subtle difference between reviewing and promoting. I don’t mind reviewing a  book, but when you give me copies to hand out, now I’m part of your PR organization. Many may think: I really loved your book, and I said it in my review, but it isn't my job to physically move copies of it for you.”

Scott is on to something here, but I think it's also about the writer giving out the freebies. Or the perceived experience of the writer. If Lee Childs or Cormac McCarthy were to offer his readers free books for their contacts, I know I wouldn't dream of saying anything but a resounding yes, and then brag about it for the rest of my life.

With new writers, the psychology at work may be different. Perhaps the reader is unsure whether their taste is really on the money. Loving an indie book doesn't mean others will too, and if you promote it aggressively, only to discover that other people aren't as keen about it, you could risk your reputations as a taste maker. Whereas any odd book by an established writer seems like a safer bet, a great book by an unknown author is still laden with potential risk. The risk of being labeled as a lousy literary connoisseur among your peers.

But here is where it gets more interesting. I've found that without my intervention or offers of free books, readers who loved my novel eventually end up promoting it and recommending it to others, and coming back to tell me what they've done. What the hell?

As a new writer, selling books is buried way down on your list of priorities compared to your number one goal: to be read by as many people as possible. So giving away books left, right and center at a loss seems like a viable proposition to gain traction. That is until you realize it doesn't always work like that.

What if by giving away free books I am depriving readers of the challenge of getting their friends and family to get vested in their taste and vote with their money? It’s one thing to give someone a free book you've read and enjoyed, but a totally different challenge to recommend a book and ensure that it’s purchased, based on your good word. And maybe readers also feel cheated to have paid for the book, when the author is willing to give it away.

As much as being read is important, it seems that trying to trip-wire the basic principles of demand and supply may not be such a fancy proposal. What do you think?

Writers, do you find giving free copies to satisfied readers demystifies you as an author and somehow cheapens your brand? How about you, readers, is my analysis of the psychology of recommending books somehow accurate?

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My sizzling-hot #bestseller short story, The Jewish Neighbor is on sale for 99 cents on Amazon.

A.M. Khalifa's critically acclaimed debut novel, Terminal Rage, was recently described by Publishers Weekly as "dizzying, intricate, and entertaining."  He lives in Rome, Los Angeles, and Sydney, sometimes at the same time.

The ebook version of Terminal Rage is now on sale for $0.99 on Amazon.

When All Else Fails...There is This.

By Andrew E. Kaufman

I have a new book coming out in just six days.

(Deep breath)

It’s been almost two years since I’ve been able to say that. After I signed a publishing deal, there were delays. I was okay with this, even anticipated it—but still, I’ve managed to accomplish what I do best.

Make myself crazy. 

It's a special skill. Do not attempt this for the first time alone. I've spent years honing my craft, and it's not for the weak. Should you choose to fall into global anxiety, please be sure to have a tolerant support system around you. And possibly some bungee cords, potting soil, and an assortment of down pillows. (Don't ask. You'll find out.)

Of course, there are the usual obsessive concerns: Will my readers still remember me after all this time? Will their enthusiasm over my work wither and die? Will I wither and die? Will the publishing business continue to gyrate, explode, then shoot me straight into oblivion? 

This is just a partial glimpse into the neurotic and continuously spiraling mind that keeps me awake late into the night and swimming the shifting tides of global uncertainty during the day. And other melodrama. 

In a way this spinning cycle of insanity is good, because on some level it keeps me on my toes and hungry—but in other ways, not really so much. Let's face it, folks: Anxiety isn't pretty. It's dominating and ferocious and greedy, but it ain't pretty. 

So, in an effort to self-medicate and to talk myself off the ledge and out of the pain vortex, logical thinking went out the window, and reckless overindulgence flew the in through the cuckoo’s nest.

I took a little jaunt over to this joint:

And inhaled me a little of this:

And thought inappropriate things about this:

 And I was powerless over this sexy little chocolate ganache number:

And I adopted 73 of these and took them home with me. They are all named Clive, and they are all wonderful and thriving in a loving environment.

That's all. 

Introducing…Kindle Matchbook.

By Andrew E. Kaufman, bestselling author of psychological thrillers

Amazon announced yesterday that, starting in October, readers who have bought paper books on their site will also be able to purchase the digital versions for a nominal fee through the new Kindle Matchbook promotional program (by the way, I love the name). Here’s how it works:

1. The e-books will be sold at a discounted rate, typically, $2.99, $1.99, .99, or free.
2. The offer is retroactive, which means it would apply to paper versions purchased as far back as 1995 when Amazon first went live selling books online.
3. The e-books will only be available at a discounted price from publishers who enroll in the program.  So far, there are about 10-thousand of them, but I suspect that number will grow once Matchbook gets off the ground.

According to Amazon, the idea of bundling print and digital books has been one of the most requested features from customers.

Being a Thomas & Mercer and 47North author (which are Amazon imprints) I’m told my books will be included in the program. How do I feel about this?  Pretty good, actually, and here’s why:

My first concern is, and always will be, for the reader. Whatever is good for them is good for me, and this just makes sense. I want them to have access to my work in any format they like and in the most economical way possible.

Regardless of what some seem to think, paper is not dead.  My readers are constantly telling me that, while they love their Kindles, they also love their paper. Many also tell me they’ve gone on to buy paper versions of my books for their shelves. What I’m hoping is that, when my new release, Darkness & Shadows comes out next month, those readers will be able to buy both versions at a much more reasonable cost. And when you think about it, this could actually augment the life of paper books by driving up their sales and giving readers more incentive to purchase them.

And here's something else: with the price of e-books getting more and more competitive, this may drive some of those ridiculously expensive ones lower, something that, in my ever-so-humble opinion, needs to happen.

Using this feature will also, in essence, be like creating a digital backup for the books readers love. I know many people whose books are among their most treasured items. I also know ones who have lost their books to fires, floods, and other tragic circumstances. Those people can never lose their books because they’ll always be just a click away.

It’s great news for independent authors as well, because they too will have the option of enrolling in the program while earning the same royalty rates—so while they  normally wouldn’t get the usual 70% cut for books priced at $1.99 and lower, in this case, if the price is lowered through Matchbook, they still will. It also creates another opportunity to get their work out into more readers’ hands and gain extra exposure while still earning the generous royalty rate that KDP offers.

The downside? I’m not sure I see any—although it will be interesting to see how many legacy publishers jump on board. We can’t know for sure, but my sense is that this is a win-win for them as well.

Of course, already there are the pundits claiming this is just another way for Amazon to make more money. I don’t agree, and even if it were, to that I say: What successful business doesn’t?

What this actually sounds like to me is Amazon listening to their customers, something that, in my opinion, they do better than any other retailer in the country. And really, the bundling concept is nothing new to them—they’ve already been doing it with Immersion Reading, a feature that allows customers to buy the audio and e-book versions of a novel at a discounted price so they can listen and read at the same time.

So what do you think? Readers: Can you see yourself taking advantage of this program? And authors, do you feel this could be a benefit to your career?

How Much Should an e-book Cost?

By Andrew E. Kaufman

It seems to be a question that has yet to find an answer, with about as many theories as there are books.

Back in the days of paperbacks and hard covers (remember those?) it seemed the price for a novel was pretty standard—they weren’t all the same, but at least they hovered in the same neighborhood. Since the advent of the e-book, however, it seems anything goes. The scale is frenetic, to say the least, with prices falling on average anywhere between free and about $12.99.

As an author, I find it disconcerting, and as a reader, even more so. While shopping for books, I often shake my head at some of the prices—and I also wonder: what makes one book worth more than another? Amazon tried to level the field by setting a fixed price for e-books, putting them all at a reasonable $9.99, and even taking a loss on profits, but then legacy publishing fell into an uproar and put an end to it.

So now the question remains: what makes one book worth more than another? Should they be based on prior sales? The author’s reputation? If those were the criteria, one might expect each book to be as good as the last, and that’s simply seldom the case. How about the length of a book? More pages no longer equate to more paper, but they still mean more work—should the author and publisher be compensated accordingly?

Of course, I’m just throwing out variables here, and really, I don’t know if there’s a reasonable answer. I suppose the logical theory from an economic standpoint would be that a book is only worth as much as people are willing to pay for it, but these days, even that answer seems a bit vague, because most readers have different standards on what they’re willing to pay. Some base their price cap on how much they can afford, others on how much of a risk they’re willing to take on a new author. Then there are those who set a firm cutoff point and won’t go over a certain price no matter who the author is. Yet another variable (as if there weren’t already enough) is the pricing on indie books vs. traditionally published ones. Some readers are still uncertain about paying a higher price for the former.

But whether independent or mainstream, it seems authors and publishers are just as uncertain on the matter. One might think that finding the magic price point were as complex as charting a quantum theory. I decided to take an informal survey of Amazon’s top 12 bestsellers to illustrate my point. Here’s what I found:

1. Safe Haven (Nicholas Sparks): $6.64

2. American Sniper (Chris Kyle, Scott McEwen, Jim Defelice): $8.99

3. Wait for Me (Elizabeth Naughton) .99

4. Crazy Little Thing ( Tracy Brogan) $3.99

5. Gone Girl (Gillian Flynn) $12.99

6. House of Evidence (Victor Ingolfsson) $4.99

7. Collide (Gail McHugh) $3.99

8. Hopeless (Colleen Hoover)  $3.99

9. Beautiful Creatures (Kami Garcia, Margaret Stohl) $5.80

10. The Pain Scale (Tyler Ditts) $1.99

11. Alex Cross, Run (James Patterson) $12.74

12. Rush (Maya Banks) $7.99

See what I mean? All over the map.

I suppose prices will eventually settle once the market does—or at least, I hope so—but in the meantime, what do you think? How much are you willing to pay for an e-book, and how do you arrive at that decision?

The Book v The Movie

by Jenny Hilborne
Author of mysteries and thrillers


After I've read a book and become vested in the characters, I'm often curious to see how they are portrayed in the movie, and how the story plays out on the screen. Do the characters look how I imagined them to look? Is the setting how I saw it in my mind? I hate it when the movie fails to do the book justice, and this is often the case. It's one of the reasons I rarely watch a movie first and then get the book. For me, some of the mystery and intrigue found in a book is lost on the big screen.

When I read The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which took me 2 attempts (the first 100 pages are a brutal slog) I loved it and wanted to watch the movie. I watched the Swedish version with English subtitles, and the movie jumps about, especially at the beginning. Without knowing the story first, I'd have been lost. The parts about Millennium magazine and the libel case against Mikael Blomkvist, which the books labors over painfully for the first 100 pages, are skimped on in the movie, yet without it, the story is hard to follow. The story has a huge cast, which I found complicating in the movie, but less so because I'd read the book first and knew who they were.

Anne Frank's diary is a gripping read and a heartbreaking film. Nothing is lost in either. However,  often there are key elements in a book that are dropped in a movie, or adapted for the audience enjoyment, and it spoils the experience. I'm so focused on the missing bits, I lose interest.

Occasionally, the movie/book works in reverse. I'm not into fantasy, but I once bought a box set of Lord Of The Rings for a gift, and then borrowed it out of curiosity. What a fantastic story. I know I'll never read the book, but I loved the movie. The visual effects were a large part of the enjoyment - they don't exist in the book, and I couldn't even begin to imagine them. The same with Jane Eyre. I enjoyed the film, and the romance (surprisingly), but I'll never read the book. This is one of the films where the movie omits part of the story found in the book (I'm told). In this case, it was okay - I can only take so much romance.

Sometimes, neither the book or the movie works. I might be one of a few people who haven't read Harry Potter. I can't get into it at all. I tried to watch one of the movies - no idea which one, but it involved broomsticks. I gave up after ten minutes. Hated it.

Then there's this nonsense of Tom Cruise playing Jack Reacher. I loved Jack Reacher. Tom Cruise will spoil my image and my enjoyment of the books, so I won't bother with the movie.

We'd all love to see our own books on the big screen...wouldn't we? Or are the pictures in our heads better? What are your thoughts?

Why I'm Leaving the World of Indie

By Andrew E. Kaufman

I recently made a very big decision in my career as an author. I’ve signed publishing deals with Thomas & Mercer and 47North (the Amazon-owned imprints dedicated to mystery/thrillers and horror/sci-fi/fantasy).

 After making the announcement, people began asking the inevitable--they wanted to know why I'm surrendering my status as an indie author.

It’s a good question, one I asked myself a lot before signing the deal. I’ve always been very proud of my indie status and of the movement itself because it's given me and countless others a chance to live the dream after facing years of rejection from traditional publishers.

But even though the conditions will change, I know the thinking behind them won’t. I realized this when Alan Turkus called to congratulate me on our partnership. He told me that their philosophy is to treat authors as customers, not as clients. That resonated very strongly with me, because it's a new way of doing business, something that before now has not been a common practice among traditional publishers.

And it isn't just talk. From day one, I’ve been treated in ways I know many of my traditionally published counterparts have not been. The lines of communication have been clear and open, and my input is extremely valuable to them. I feel like an active participant in my publishing process, something that as an indie author has always been very important me.

Another reason I made this move is because my goal has always been to take my publishing career to the next level, but as an indie author there’s only so much I can do to grow my readership. The publishing business is changing at break-neck speed, but it’s actually the indie portion that’s changing the fastest. With self-published books flooding the market at an alarming rate, it’s getting harder to sell them. Amazon has the marketing resources to help me reach a wider audience—something traditional publishers can’t do--while at the same time, take a significant load off my shoulders, so I can dedicate more time writing and less to promoting.

And then there are my readers, who are as important to me as the work itself. Amazon became the world's largest bookseller by putting their customers first, and I know they'll treat my audience with the same degree of care and respect that I do.

I'm very excited about this opportunity, but even more excited  to see another new and viable route for others like me who have struggled so hard to get their work into readers' hands.

Andrew E. Kaufman is the bestselling author of The Lion, the Lamb, the Hunted and While the Savage Sleeps. For more information about his work, please visit his website at: www.andrewekaufman.com