It’s been a bit of time since I last wrote you, and thetimes they are a changing, indeed.  

 After two major edits, a seriously necessary but nit-picky copy-editingprocess (note to self: maintain consistent use of apostrophe direction i.e. ‘vs. ’), a two-step proofing process involving multiple readers (including thiscomment from an Inkshares intern, which is everything for me: “I have to say,I’m really enjoying this novel.”), an aesthetic conundrum of choosing the bookcover (if you check out the Inkshares page,or Amazonor Barnes& Noble, you can see the final choice), the relief of being done with Itand the subsequent terror of realizing there may still be a typo, and finally letting go, knowing that It’s out of myhands and that you’ll receive the book before Christmas, but that the officialrelease date is February 3, 2015,well [take a deep breath] I can finally return to the only thing that reallymatters: get back to writing. The third novel is underway, and it’s anotherdoozy altogether. But for now I’ll keep that under wraps, except to reveal thethree protagonists’ names: Viktor, Carl, and Elsa.

If you had said one year ago that I’d be doing a panel at Shakespeare & Company for Slim and The Beast, I would have toldyou to shut your mouth, how dare you, it’s a terrible joke, GET OUT! Butthe Shakespeare & Company panel wasa true honor, and I met some really interesting writers and drank beer withthem well into the night. Highlights include debating the future of publishingwith friends and the Shakespeare crowd,and a flustered Soviet woman who used her “question” to rant for seven minutesbecause didn’t understand why no one wants to buy her book of poetry, eventhough it’s beautiful-on-the-inside-you-just-have-to-take-a-chance-and-open-it-alright?

 In other news, I was featured in an article in Writer’s Digest (unfortunately only inprint—the November/December 2014 issue) that spoke about Inkshares as well asmy reasons for choosing them. The woman who wrote the article is a literaryagent who has been incredibly supportive/helpful as I approach the marketing,and has gone so far as to get me some great contacts in the industry.

 The BIG NEWS is I’ll be doing a book tour in February (NCand NY, watch out!). It’s surreal for now, hence my lack of words to describeit. In addition to all of this, including close collaboration with book design (mytwin brother Aaron did chapter illustrations), Inkshares has helped me start awebsite (I’m building it now), has secured a high-profile interview for me, andwithout going into specifics, will be sending dozens of reviewers and a fewestablished authors an ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) in hopes of creating a buzzbefore the February release. Needless to say, Inkshares is a legitimatepublishing house. I’m lucky to be on board.

 On a not-wholly unrelated tangent before I wrap this up, inthe publishing industry there’s this thing called a Tip Sheet (I learned whatit meant about one month ago), which is essentially a one-page document thatserves as a resumé for your novel. My distributor sends this to bookstores, andif bookstores are interested, they pre-order copies (a random bookstore inSouth Carolina did this, which is both baffling and exciting). Inkshares and Iworked on this Tip Sheet, and I’ll have a copy of it by next week. If any ofyou—wherever you may be in the world—are interested in keeping a distinctivegrass-roots twinge to Slim and The Beast,I’d be honored to send you the Tip Sheet and hear about your experience walkinginto an independent bookstore and saying, “Good morning. [Bell above doorrings] I know this is a bit strange, but I know this guy, see? And there’s thiscompany, see? It’s called Inkshares […] Would I like to sit down? Why thankyou.” It’s a bold move to just walk into a bookstore like that, but I did ithere in Paris at WH Smith and it worked. The smug Madame said, “We only workwith the biggest distributor in America, Ingram, and I doubt you are associatedwith them. Good luck with your—what was it, a short story? Bonne journee.” When I said, “Oh, no problem. Interesting youmention it, though … in fact I work directly with Ingram,” she immediatelychanged her tone and made up for it by giving me the director’s contact. Boldmoves move mountains, and you made the boldest move of all backing me whenpublishing was a far-off reality.  

 Which brings me to the most important part of this update: arenewed thank you for all of your support. Book tours, interviews,Shakespearian panels  … the onlyreason any of this is happening is because there are 232 of you. Whatever happens once the book comes out—whether itsells 5 or 5,000 copies—I’ll no longer have to dream about what it would be like to publish a novel. Success or failure willbe based on the novel’s merit or lack thereof. I’m ashamed/relieved to say it: Imay or may not be secretly terrified that in fact the novel is shit. “What wereyou thinking?” an evil voice might say. “You’re an idiot and a fraud.” But thenI’m reminded that you believe(d) in me. Whatever happens, there will be luckand marketing strategy and all the rest of it, too, but one thing is for sure: Slim and The Beast will be “out there”soon, on a dusty bookshelf in Australia, or on a Parisian coffee table, or in abookstore in Springfield, Wherever, USA, and that is only because of you.

It’s just past sunrise. The sculptor wakes to the sound of a large truck pulling into his driveway. Standing at the front door — screen door propped open with his foot, a bowl of a mug of steaming coffee in both hands — he squints at burly men with burlier beards as they remove a piece of marble from the moving truck. They ask where they can put it. He says in the garage. A man slides off the blue tarp from the nascent sculpture, says good luck and drives away.

First he stares at the block of stone, anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. Then, with mallet in hand, he begins to lop off the chunks.

In the beginning it seems random. He’s trying to uncover what’s trapped. As the floor becomes covered in marble powder, the sculptor exchanges his hammer for tools more precise. He chisels away at an arm or a leg. A nose appears somewhere within the head. He’s already thinking about the wrinkles and the lips, but first he must tend to all the rest.

As the months pass he focuses on toenails, abdominal muscles, wrinkles on the forehead. From the ground up a body begins to emerge from what once part of a cave. Here is the most important and most delicate task. The soul of the sculpture is in the eyes, someone once said. The sculptor can envision what they look like, but the sculpture remains faceless. With metallic tools rarely seen outside the orthodontist office, he begins to chisel away.

How many months have passed, and does it matter? He stands thirty feet away, then ten feet. He stares into the eyes and clutches the head. His shoes are covered in porcelain dust. He doesn’t own a broom or a dustpan. Is the sculpture finished? Wrong question. It was finished when it first came in. Lopping the chunks off was just as essential to this process. A final flurry of marble dust falls to the floor, revealing the final eyelash.

The garage is quiet now. The tools are idle. He acknowledges his creation before pushing the sculpture into the corner with all the others.

That night he sleeps well. In the morning he wakes up to the sound of a truck.

“Where should we put it?” The deliveryman asks.

“In the garage.”

And so it begins once again.

I just completed the final edit of Slim and The Beast, after cutting/editing/re-inserting/deleting close to 30,000 words over 2.5 years. This is a big day for me, arguably more than the release date, because I’m finally getting back to the purely creative part of writing. New marble to chisel away.

A lot has changed since my last update. For one, I’m starting a new job in about forty-five minutes: editor in chief is my official title, which sounds a lot fancier than it really is. I’ll be writing articles and editing, as well as a bit of translation for a company that specializes in digital marketing and Internet advertising. I don’t much about those subjects outside of the Inkshares process, but am excited for the opportunity. After three great years teaching English to French professionals, it’s time to move on.

In other news, I’m honored that Shakespeare & Company (Anglophone bookstore next to Notre Dame) wants to have me on a writer’s panel in October to discuss Slim and The Beast and the Inkshares process. They are going to be stocking my novel, and might even get me there for a reading. WH Smith (a big Anglo bookshop on Rue de Rivoli) is also affiliated with my distributor, so it looks like I may have a reading/signing/tea and crumpets over there. Finally, there are whispers of a book tour in the spring, but that is partly dependent on how big of a splash the novel makes. While I can’t share any details, know that Inkshares has been incredible throughout the process (my editor has been nothing short of amazing), and is working closely with me to make sure the release is all it can be.

2014 has been a wild year. If, one year ago, a spiritual-seeming man had walked up to me and said that Slim and The Beast would be published by December (December 19th is the projected date), and that I’d be doing book events involving signatures and drinking tea with other “writers,” I’d have looked him the eye and call him a jackass (hopefully this is the last time I’ll reflexively mention that I just used the past perfect + perfect conditional, otherwise known as the Third Conditional).

The bottom line: the only reason all of this is happening — book store events, new job, probable book tour, and of course publishing — is because of your support. Your belief in me has fueled me since the beginning, and I’ve now reached a point where I can honestly say Slim and The Beast is what I’ve always wanted it to be. It is a good novel, and I feel that it’s great; while it’s not up to me to judge it, I still love it after almost three years of head banging and editing.

I am staring at the sculpture now. I may need to add an eyelash or two. But in a few weeks Slim and The Beast will find their place in the corner, next to a dusty attempt at a novel previously known as Whistleblower.

A new sculpture is emerging, a novel that takes place in Lodz, Poland during World War Two. There are three protagonists, much like in Slim and The Beast. Viktor, a university professor who loses his job on September 1, 1939; Carl, a German policeman who is full of ambition and regret; and Elsa, a thoughtful woman whose father was killed during the Night of the Long Knives. Time to drop the chisel for the mallet once again.

PS: I’ve decided on my author name — Samuel L. Barrantes. The accent is gone, as is the Lopez for a couple of reasons. Marketing strategy: head to your local coffee shop and carry on this conversation, preferably with tea cup in hand, pinky in the air: “Well I’m waiting for the December release of Slim and The Beast. […] Samuel L. Barrantes. […] Oh? You haven’t heard of him? Why, that’s quite peculiar. You simply must check him out. Run along now, darling.”

PPS: My great friend, Yann Rousselot, has a beautiful collection of poetry currently in the funding stage on Inkshares. It's called "Dawn of the Algorithm." His deadline is mid-October. If it inspires you, jump on board before it's too late.