I’m Writing Fiction
I’ve been writing fiction as a hobby for several years. I have not had anything published, but I’ve learned a lot about writing, had a lot of fun, and harbor dreams of maybe someday actually finding my novels in book stores. I am a realist, though. I know that there are thousands of us aspiring fiction writers out there writing novels no one will ever read. But that is going to change for one of us very soon.
I have entered my mystery novel, Carribean Ice, in a writing contest. It’s the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. In early February, there were up to 10,000 entries in all genre. They cut those to 2000 without any notice to the entrants. And then on March 16 they announced the 500 Quarter-finalists. I was lucky enough to be one of them. Each quarter-finalist gets a full manuscript review from Publishers Weekly. this is a valuable tool for writers. I’ll be interested to see what PW thinks of my book.
All of the quarter-finalist’s Book Excerpts are now posted on Amazon. You can download and read any of them for free. You can read the reviews readers have already posted for the excerpts and actually post your own reviews. You can see mine by clicking on this link: CARIBBEAN ICE, or go to www.amazon.com/abna, click on the mystery genre and scroll though to find Caribbean Ice by Bill Hirsch. I’d love for you to post a review, good or bad. I appreciate all feedback. Please overlook the embarrassing typo I have in the third sentence. I must have been careless when I made the submission. Oops! I’d also like to know if it’s a book you would consider buying. You can be a part of my “marketing focus group”.
When we submitted our entry, we were asked to provide a “pitch” about the book and who we thought the audience might be. Here’s mine:
“In a world of formula mysteries, is there room for something different? Absolutely. Readers have an insatiable appetite for escapist stories that leave everyday life behind, take them to faraway, exciting places, and keep them turning pages.
The islands are known for their mysterious Caribbean stew known as Callalo. Here’s my recipe for:
Caribbean Ice Callaloo
Fill: A fictitious tropical archipelago with warm, crystal clear water.
Add: Stolen diamonds
Smuggling ring with a ruthless kingpin
Fast boats
A place called Skeleton Island
A dead body – murder or accident?
An expatriated French diamond cutter and other peculiar island characters
Underwater caves
Spice with: corrupt police
Add: a dash of poison
Simmer while stirring thoroughly
Add: An American architect and his wife on vacation
A falsely accused friend needing help
Cover and bring to boil
Continue raising heat gradually until the lid blows off
Serve: Under palm trees in coconut bowls with umbrella drinks and Jimmy Buffett tunes.
Matt and Ann Thornton planned a quiet vacation for “reconnecting,” but find themselves in the second honeymoon from hell when they discover a murder that rocks the peaceful islands and exposes a diamond smuggling operation. Thornton calls on his past covert training and investigative mind to save a friend while desperately trying to keep his wife and himself alive. The dangers drive the couple apart, but when they need each other most, they remember the love and loyalty their marriage is built upon. Using Matt’s clever mind, resourcefulness, and skills combined with Ann’s intuition and charms, they confront a near-maniacal villain. The plot twists and turns through high speed boat chases and daring escapes ending in an explosive confrontation on Skeleton Island.
Ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances make for great vacation and leisure reading. Caribbean Ice is exactly that.”
Would that entice you to read the manuscript? I hope it entices the judges to read it.
Here’s the first few line of the manuscript (with the type corrected).
Chapter One
The west coast of Africa, twenty years ago.
He was a man trapped by fate, desperate for a way out.
The pit mine smoldered like a stone furnace fired by the fierce African sun. Malleet Bindra stood motionless. Only his eyes moved as he watched a solitary guard drag a chair to the shaded side of the quarry. The guard sat, eased back against the granite wall, unbuttoned his sweat-stained shirt, and settled into his favorite position. He laid his rifle across his bulging stomach. Stifling heat and a belly filled with a heavy lunch quickly proved to be a potent sedative. Within minutes, the guard struggled to keep his eyes open.
Bindra stared intently at the groggy guard, as if trying to hypnotize him into a deeper slumber. Beckoning from beneath Bindra’s broom had come the clarion call he yearned for, the signature sound of a rough diamond scraping across granite. It was the sweet, dangerous call of freedom.
The guard’s fat eyelids sagged. He hadn’t heard the telltale sound. Bindra took a slow, careful step. He placed his tattered boot beside the diamond then crouched as if reaching for his bootlaces.
The guard’s head bobbed and his arms jerked.
Bindra froze.
He listened to his own heart thump furiously, hammering in his ears like a sledge on an anvil.
But the guard’s movement was merely the final spasm before sleep. His eyes twitched then fell shut. His head tipped forward until his fat chin met his chest. Bindra took a breath and fingered the gem with his callused hands. Anxiously, he straightened himself to his full height, swiftly lifting the rough stone to his nose. With a jab, he pressed it deep into his nostril.
Rivulets of sweat streamed from Bindra’s forehead stinging his eyes. His hands trembled. He had not been seen, at least not by the guard. If other miners had spotted him, they would tell no one. It was the way. No eye contact, no gestures, no words.
A few pages later, the story moves to the Caribbean in the present time where we join our vacationing couple who are about to discover a grisly surprise. Is there any hope for me as a novelist? Please send me you feedback. I can take it!
