Tag: ebooks

Plugola — John Dyer Writes

This coming October I’ll publish, I hope, a breakout novel. ‘Elbert’ is action, adventure, and family drama — a fusion you don’t often see in Science Fiction. It’s a fun ride across an unlikely landscape, a moving tale with a positive vibe.

I’m staking out my own territory with original and intelligent stories, written for thoughtful readers. ‘Elbert’ isn’t rocket ships and ray guns. It’s about challenges we face creating successful lives, a noble existence, a hopeful future.

I’m shopping for word-of-mouth publicity. If you like the pitch, follow the link. If you like what you see, please tell your followers.

Regards,

John G Dyer

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Undecided — John Dyer Writes

I’m wearing a mouth guard again, after grinding my teeth with sufficient force to break a molar, on account of I don’t like my new job.

I’m not talking about the writing. That’s an activity. This is about promoting myself as an author. That’s a job. The mission, if I choose to pursue it, is selling thirty thousand books a year, minimum. If I was a younger man, trying to make a living as a novelist, that would be one thing.

But I’m retired, and disinclined to seek approval. My motivation to advertise is nothing more than a nagging sense the work itself, not the author, might deserve attention. I assure you; this is not a case of superficial humility. I’m sincere.

In the grand scheme of things, there are few endeavors that really matter. Producing entertainment is not on the list. That’s one vote against shouting my name from the rooftops.

Works of fiction flow out of an author’s perspective. Stories have the power to elevate the spirit, educate, inform, inspire, and provoke thought. My books might offer some of these qualities. One vote in favor.

Publishing is a tough game. I don’t want to go back to work. If struck by illness, I won’t say, “I’m glad I spent my last days trying to sell books.” Is that three votes against? I think it is.

I write optimistic stories about places you’ll never go, people you’ll never meet, things you’ll never see. That these stories are constructive in nature is almost accidental, a reflection of what I believe, and my observations of the many ways in which individuals go about creating successful lives.

Does that make the material different enough to stand out? I don’t know. I’ve been chatting with a publicist, to whom I said, “Someone will have to convince me (the work) is remarkable”. Upon reflection, I realize that’s too much to expect. Besides, there’s no objective way to determine if my books deserve an audience, other than the option of allowing the marketplace to decide.

Oh, yeah. That’s the conundrum I’m fussing about, right now.

If you’re curious, click here. If you’re looking for a punchline, I don’t have one, else I’d already know what to do. One thing I do know is that worrying isn’t good for me. I have a sore jaw to tell me that.

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To India and Beyond — John Dyer Writes

On Sunday, August 28, I will be an honored guest on Books Charming, India’s Top Book Blog. It’s kind of an accident, arranged by a promotion service, but curiously apt — my Science Fiction books are replete with allusions to South Asian culture. I actually have followers in that part of the world, although I don’t know how it happened.

It’s not as if I posted, “SciFi for readers in India.” or, “Sanskrit spoken here.” or “Look for Devanagari script on the cover of ‘Resilient’.”

The latter may be found below a neon sign, made in the image of a coffee cup. The word is, ‘Kaphi.’

Anyway, I’m running an eBook promotion, starting the same day. The Illusion of Gravity. Free for three days. Sunday, August 28. You might also read the interview, thus motivating you to read the book, which you will get for free, that same day, or for two days thereafter, as stipulated above.

In other news, I’ve been publishing a serial memoir about the expat life, 1950s Philippines and forward. Relative to my other essays, it’s been exceptionally well-received. Check it out.

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Camera Familia #12 — John Dyer Writes

Manila, Philippines. July, 1956. Electric companies are among the largest of all industrial enterprises. The product is manufactured by the Generation division. Delivery is carried out by Transmission and Distribution. Alan Razovsky’s job was Manager of T & D. Draw a box around the power plant. Assign someone to be in charge of everything else. Mission. Apparatus. Logistics. Staffing. The big part. The spread-out part. For workers, the dangerous part.

Linemen were paying the price for inadequate tools. Dad’s assignment was to build out the infrastructure. His personal mission would be to serve the workforce, and in doing so, save their lives. By the end of Dad’s tenure, Meralco would be a reliable power utility, operating with first-class line service equipment and a model safety program. In this photo, Alan Razovsky and his colleagues, about to roll up their sleeves and get it done.

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Camera Familia #9 — John Dyer Writes

Manila, Philippines. February, 1956. Our first couple of weeks were spent at the Bay View Hotel. Mom snapped a photo from the room. I remember a trundle bed, and an instance of lunch in the restaurant, where I ate frozen dairy for the first time in my life.

I don’t know how long they let me call it ‘Manila ice cream’. Until the novelty wore off, I guess. If my parents were in any way intimidated by the changes going on in our lives, I sure didn’t pick up on it.

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Let’s try a visit to my WordPress home page. Here.

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Camera Familia #8 — John Dyer Writes

Hawaii. February, 1956. Mom, Dad and I traveled to Manila by ourselves, leaving my brother Mike and newly-minted stepsister Carolyn behind to finish their respective school years. We rode Lockheed Constellation aircraft most of the way. During one leg of the trip, we flew into enough turbulence to empty out all the overhead storage compartments. We were over the ocean, a long way from land. It scared everyone onboard.

In San Francisco, we toured a cannery where I consumed fresh-caught tuna on a saltine cracker. It was a taste sensation, burning the moment into a memory I can access even to this day. In Hawaii. Mom and I posed for a photo with our local guide, who I didn’t recognize until recalling how sweet she was.

That was sixty-six years ago. I was six years old. The memories are spotty. Thank goodness for photographs.

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Camera Familia #7 — John Dyer Writes

Flintstone, Georgia. January, 1956. Wedding day on Mountain View Circle, across the road from a cornfield, half a mile from the old sawmill. My mother and newly-inaugurated dad, at the brink of exchanging a safe, familiar life for an uncertain future on the other side of the planet.

The Philippines had been an independent nation for only nine years. In the news, the mountain tribes signed an agreement to end the practice of headhunting. There were things to be apprehensive about.

I was clueless. According to my brother, so was he. Mom and Dad, probably not. In those days, bravery was common.

Dad looks distracted. I wish I knew what he was thinking. At least we have the photograph and a context. It’ll have to be enough.

I write novels. Find them here.

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Camera Familia #6 — John Dyer Writes

The South Pacific. Circa 1944. My natural father, Benjamin Franklin Dyer, served as a signalman in the U.S. Navy during World War II. He was, by all accounts, a prince of a man — but he died in an accident when I was a baby, so I never got to know him.

I did know his youngest brother, John Greene Dyer II, a talented musician, voice coach, and founder of the Chattanooga Girls’ Choir.

I sang for him once. He said, “I agree you’re a baritone, but I don’t think I could make anything out of you.” Nevertheless, a charming and congenial fellow.

According to my birth certificate, I am John Greene Dyer III. My uncle is named after his father. I am named after my grandfather, born after my uncle, and accordingly given the suffix III. I’m pretty sure that’s not how family names are indexed, but nobody said anything at the time, and it’s too late now.

I’m STILL writing novels. Find them here.

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Camera Familia #5 — John Dyer Writes

Austin, Texas. Circa 1935. According to Dad, there were twelve Jews at UTexas during his enrollment. One of these found employment in the New York City financial district where, in 1955, words were spoken to the effect of, “We need an incorruptible electrical engineer to supervise our investments at the Manila Electric Company.”

That’s how we ended up in the Philippines.

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Camera Familia #4 — John Dyer Writes

Atlanta, Georgia. December, 1955. Mom and Dad, shortly before we traveled to the Philippines. There’s debate within the family as to exactly when and where this photo was taken. The consensus was ‘Honeymoon. Atlanta.’ Don’t ask me. I was five.

What I do recall is Dad taking us for a ride through Chattanooga in his 1955 Buick Super. I almost fell out the rear passenger door while playing with the handle. That’s the kind of stuff kids remember.

I’m writing novels these days. Find me here.

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