By- Dennis Sharpe
Published By- Booktrope Publishing
“When everything in life has been against you, who can blame you for not playing nice with others?
My name is Wednesday. For the last seven years, I was the property of a sadistic bastard named Klein. Now he wants me dead- only he doesn’t have the balls to kill me himself.
Alvin, the hitman Klein sent to do his dirty work, decided to save my life (repeatedly) instead of taking it. Now we’re on a wild cross-country run from Klein’s goons.
It’s a rollercoaster road trip with constant personality clashes as we dodge bullets and swap cars, share fast food and cheap motel rooms. Our journey is full of pain and laughs, torture and growth, tacos and lots of guns; there’s a lot of hair dye, blood, and tears. Sometimes finding true redemption comes at a high cost.
And, no matter how much someone cares about you, they can only do so much… can only go so far. You are your only real shot at coming out on top.
Sometimes reclaiming your life requires a body count.
About the Author
Born and raised in the middle of the American Midwest, Dennis Sharpe has been a writer as long as he can remember. His mother has told many people about the fantasy and science fiction stories he'd write on scraps of paper, and staple together as his 'books', before he'd attended his first day of formal education.
He has spent many late nights at diners and dives, drinking coffee with a tattered notebook to put a voice to his feelings of himself and the world around him, and other worlds that can exist only in fiction. The voices in his head don't ever stop talking to him, and so sooner or later he has to get out onto a page all that they've filled him up with.
Inspired by Neil Gaiman, Kurt Vonnegut, Frank Miller, Chrissie Pappas, Charles Bukowski, Stephen King, Issac Asimov, and countless classic literary influences, Dennis continues with the ability to write what at a glance might seem absurd, but quickly begins to resonate with our own thoughts and emotions. He writes people we know, love we've known and lost (and found again), and places we've been in our lives and in our heads. Even his fictional characters and worlds carry enough of the grey areas we experience in day-to-day life, to let us find the truth in his words, no matter how fantastic.
These days he can be found still writing, drinking coffee with friends, or spending time with his children (the true joys of his life), in Western Kentucky.
Tell us about your writing process
I drink a truckload of coffee and stay awake until the sun comes up, banging away on the keyboard like a caveman, and eventually there is a story there on the screen in front of me. I then send it to an editor, or a group of diligent and loyal trained monkeys, and pray as hard as I can that it makes some sort of coherent sense.
In all seriousness, though… that’s not really all that far from the truth.
All of my fiction comes to me in the form a character’s voice. Some are louder than others, but they all speak at once in my mind and I do all I can to sort out who they are and what they are telling me. Veronica Fischer, from my Coming Storm series of paranormal books talks in snarky and sultry tones. David Adams, from my sci-fi short Destroyer of Worlds, spoke in broken bursts with a somewhat depressed but resonate voice. Wednesday Valentine, though, shrieked, screamed, wailed, screamed some more, and cried. She refused to be denied. She refused to be ignored. She refused to be censored, made to wait, or be calmed. Where other stories have poured out of me, her’s gushed.
Every writing experience I have is different, but there are common threads - common themes. I have to have coffee. There is no way around that one. I have to be able to focus, but there must be some form of background noise, and often music. Very often, music acts as a mental lubricant. The best hours seem to be between midnight and four in the morning. I must find what the character is telling me to be interesting, or I lose focus and the whole of the work becomes lost and then abandoned. (Sometimes I go back to abandoned works, but not often.)
I’m not shy about the fact that I am an insomniac, with two kids at home, so night writing is most natural. The distractions in the middle of the night are easier to control, and 24 hour diners provide my coffee and background noise quite well. It took me a long time to figure out what worked best, and how to best listen to the voices I was hearing in my head, but once I got it… I can now happily crank out five to fifteen thousand words a night. (well… often, I can)
Ultimately, though, I think the really important thing is just to write. I don’t stop writing. I write when I have nothing to say, and when I don’t know where I’m going. I just keep writing. I heard it said once that every writer has a mountain of truly awful words in their head, and that the good words don’t come until you’ve gotten all the horrible ones out of the way. I agree with that, but I feel that more of them will clog up inside you if you don’t regularly flush them out. So I am constantly trying to rid myself of the bad ones, in search for the ones that are worth reading.
I really hope that this is at least in part what you were asking.
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