Ask the Author: Rod Raglin
Answered Questions (12)
Rod Raglin
It’s 2025 and most Canadian publishers are still discriminating in favour of marginalized authors.
My new novel, The Thin White Line, challenges an assumption nearly all Canadian publishers adhere to religiously. That assumption is that Black, Indigenous and people of colour (BIPOCs) as well as writers from other marginalized groups (see the ever-growing list at the end of this article) are discriminated against. Furthermore, they deserve special privileges during the submission process, privileges which are, apparently, at the publisher’s discretion.
Matt Bennett, the protagonist in The Thin White Line, is an author/freelance investigative reporter who is frustrated that his manuscript keeps getting passed over by publishers whose stated preference is for BIPOC or marginalized authors. The preferential treatment is considered a way to atone for “historical and systemic barriers that have existed in publishing,” However, Matt’s research has shown him that this assumption is not borne out by facts. Marginalized authors are not underrepresented today in Canadian literature, indeed, just the opposite.
But when he publishes his findings challenging the assumption that BIPOC and marginalized authors should get special consideration he’s met with significant blowback that evolves into cultural warfare and murder.
The novel was completed six months ago, and when I say completed it was written, rested, revised, vetted by six reasonably accomplished authors and then revised again incorporating their suggestions. It was then submitted to publishers, agents and competitions no less than fourteen times.
My lack of talent as a fiction writer aside, you can see where this story might be a hard sell, especially when no less then eleven major traditional Canadian publishers have statements on their submission pages that offer preferential treatment to authors whom they consider (it’s arbitrary) marginalized.
Here are samplings lifted from a few of the publisher’s submission pages*:
“…are committed to doing our part in correcting the historical and societal imbalance of representation in literature. In the spirit of moving towards an inclusive publishing program that reflects the rich diversity of our communities, we welcome submissions from Indigenous writers, writers of colour, writers with disabilities, writers from the LGBTQIA2S community, and writers from any other community that have historically been underrepresented. If you identify with any of these communities, and you feel comfortable in doing so, we encourage you to mention this in your submission letter.”
“…we are looking to engage with work by writers from historically underrepresented communities, including—but not limited to—those who are Black, Indigenous, people of colour, disabled, neurodivergent, LGBTQIA+, debuting later in life, or without an MFA.”
“…is excited to open our submission policy exclusively to LGBTQIA2S+ and BIPOC writers, as well as those from other traditionally underrepresented communities.”
“We encourage submissions from all Canadian writers, including Indigenous writers, writers of colour, writers from the LGBTQ2S+ community, writers with disabilities, and writers who identify with other marginalized groups. If you require an accommodation to submit your manuscript, please contact us at...”
At first, I found it disappointing that all these publishers would think in lockstep. Then, I began to wonder if there was a reason for their conformity in thought and action, so I reviewed all their submission pages again and there it was, on the submission page of Coach House Books. It reads,
“We publish primarily Canadian authors. The reason for this is that most Canadian-owned publishers, including Coach House, are made viable in part by grant funding from federal and provincial levels of government. Access to these grants requires that we prioritize the publication of Canadian authors.”
“What,” you say? “Where does it say anything about giving preferential treatment to the work of historically unrepresented authors?”
The grants (up to $250,000 annually) that make most Canadian-owned publishers viable are from The Canada Council for the Arts (CCA), a federal Crown corporation accountable to Parliament through the Minister of Canadian Heritage.
In 2022-23, the CCA distributed $366.5 million. The criterion for receiving these grants is available at https://canadacouncil.ca/funding There is significant attention given to supporting programs with an Indigenous component as well as “strategic funding for individuals, groups and organizations from racialized (culturally diverse) communities.”
The CCA 2021-26 Strategic Plan includes the following “Action”:
“50% of total grant funding to projects to help better understand and address the numerous barriers faced by youth, official language minority communities, and historically underserved and marginalized communities including Indigenous, Black, racialized, Deaf and disability, and 2SLGBTQI+ and gender-diverse communities, women, and artists at intersections of these groups.”
You can imagine that publishers do whatever is necessary to access these funds, including offering preferential treatment to authors from marginalized communities to help the CCA fulfill its Strategic Plan. This despite the lack of evidence that these groups are underrepresented.
So, when a novel appears on their desk that challenges these assumptions, what’s the likelihood they’ll consider it? Who bites the hand that feeds them?
The Thin White Line – Culture War – With Deadly Consequences, is a racially charge story of political suspense, domestic terrorism and murder, and is available from Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6LEU
It’s my fourteenth self-published novel and like the previous thirteen, received no grants, subsidies or special consideration.
**Additional excerpts from the submission pages of major Canadians publishes indicating their bias are available on request.
*The Marginalized Population is defined as a group of people that are excluded from full participation in society and/or have a feeling of being insignificant or unimportant
including immigrants, refugees, ethno-cultural and racialized groups, persons with disabilities, LGBTQ2S individuals and people experiencing homelessness, children and youth in care, people living in institutions and people living in remote areas.
- As defined in Building Understanding: The First Report of the National Advisory Council on Poverty, April 21, 2022
My new novel, The Thin White Line, challenges an assumption nearly all Canadian publishers adhere to religiously. That assumption is that Black, Indigenous and people of colour (BIPOCs) as well as writers from other marginalized groups (see the ever-growing list at the end of this article) are discriminated against. Furthermore, they deserve special privileges during the submission process, privileges which are, apparently, at the publisher’s discretion.
Matt Bennett, the protagonist in The Thin White Line, is an author/freelance investigative reporter who is frustrated that his manuscript keeps getting passed over by publishers whose stated preference is for BIPOC or marginalized authors. The preferential treatment is considered a way to atone for “historical and systemic barriers that have existed in publishing,” However, Matt’s research has shown him that this assumption is not borne out by facts. Marginalized authors are not underrepresented today in Canadian literature, indeed, just the opposite.
But when he publishes his findings challenging the assumption that BIPOC and marginalized authors should get special consideration he’s met with significant blowback that evolves into cultural warfare and murder.
The novel was completed six months ago, and when I say completed it was written, rested, revised, vetted by six reasonably accomplished authors and then revised again incorporating their suggestions. It was then submitted to publishers, agents and competitions no less than fourteen times.
My lack of talent as a fiction writer aside, you can see where this story might be a hard sell, especially when no less then eleven major traditional Canadian publishers have statements on their submission pages that offer preferential treatment to authors whom they consider (it’s arbitrary) marginalized.
Here are samplings lifted from a few of the publisher’s submission pages*:
“…are committed to doing our part in correcting the historical and societal imbalance of representation in literature. In the spirit of moving towards an inclusive publishing program that reflects the rich diversity of our communities, we welcome submissions from Indigenous writers, writers of colour, writers with disabilities, writers from the LGBTQIA2S community, and writers from any other community that have historically been underrepresented. If you identify with any of these communities, and you feel comfortable in doing so, we encourage you to mention this in your submission letter.”
“…we are looking to engage with work by writers from historically underrepresented communities, including—but not limited to—those who are Black, Indigenous, people of colour, disabled, neurodivergent, LGBTQIA+, debuting later in life, or without an MFA.”
“…is excited to open our submission policy exclusively to LGBTQIA2S+ and BIPOC writers, as well as those from other traditionally underrepresented communities.”
“We encourage submissions from all Canadian writers, including Indigenous writers, writers of colour, writers from the LGBTQ2S+ community, writers with disabilities, and writers who identify with other marginalized groups. If you require an accommodation to submit your manuscript, please contact us at...”
At first, I found it disappointing that all these publishers would think in lockstep. Then, I began to wonder if there was a reason for their conformity in thought and action, so I reviewed all their submission pages again and there it was, on the submission page of Coach House Books. It reads,
“We publish primarily Canadian authors. The reason for this is that most Canadian-owned publishers, including Coach House, are made viable in part by grant funding from federal and provincial levels of government. Access to these grants requires that we prioritize the publication of Canadian authors.”
“What,” you say? “Where does it say anything about giving preferential treatment to the work of historically unrepresented authors?”
The grants (up to $250,000 annually) that make most Canadian-owned publishers viable are from The Canada Council for the Arts (CCA), a federal Crown corporation accountable to Parliament through the Minister of Canadian Heritage.
In 2022-23, the CCA distributed $366.5 million. The criterion for receiving these grants is available at https://canadacouncil.ca/funding There is significant attention given to supporting programs with an Indigenous component as well as “strategic funding for individuals, groups and organizations from racialized (culturally diverse) communities.”
The CCA 2021-26 Strategic Plan includes the following “Action”:
“50% of total grant funding to projects to help better understand and address the numerous barriers faced by youth, official language minority communities, and historically underserved and marginalized communities including Indigenous, Black, racialized, Deaf and disability, and 2SLGBTQI+ and gender-diverse communities, women, and artists at intersections of these groups.”
You can imagine that publishers do whatever is necessary to access these funds, including offering preferential treatment to authors from marginalized communities to help the CCA fulfill its Strategic Plan. This despite the lack of evidence that these groups are underrepresented.
So, when a novel appears on their desk that challenges these assumptions, what’s the likelihood they’ll consider it? Who bites the hand that feeds them?
The Thin White Line – Culture War – With Deadly Consequences, is a racially charge story of political suspense, domestic terrorism and murder, and is available from Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6LEU
It’s my fourteenth self-published novel and like the previous thirteen, received no grants, subsidies or special consideration.
**Additional excerpts from the submission pages of major Canadians publishes indicating their bias are available on request.
*The Marginalized Population is defined as a group of people that are excluded from full participation in society and/or have a feeling of being insignificant or unimportant
including immigrants, refugees, ethno-cultural and racialized groups, persons with disabilities, LGBTQ2S individuals and people experiencing homelessness, children and youth in care, people living in institutions and people living in remote areas.
- As defined in Building Understanding: The First Report of the National Advisory Council on Poverty, April 21, 2022
Rod Raglin
Short answer is no, Glen. But don't blame Goodreads. I've connected with a number of authors who consider their work environmental fiction and they're all over the place with most writing either post-apocalyptic dystopian stories or narratives heavily didactic and moralizing. I have found the best way is to address environmental issues is in a subplot that your characters have to address. Saving Spirit Bear is an action-romance that pits an ambitious corporate climber against an ardent eco-warrior. In Loving the Terrorist, another in the same genre, a woman trying to save a special wild place falls in love with an eco-terrorist. The thing is, you have to package the message in an entertaining story. Calling it environment fiction, eco-fi, cli-fi will probably turn off most readers.
Rod Raglin
You know I never have a reading list, it's just one more thing to feel guilty about never getting to. I go to my local library and randomly pick out a book - well, not quite that randomly since I almost always pick an unknown Canadian author of literary fiction - lots to choose from. I figure this author will likely appreciate my review - good or otherwise, more than a best selliing author who won't even notice, and, I'm more likely to run into them at some local literary event or, hey, they might even be my neighbour. I know it's a big country, but still...
Rod Raglin
Why I continue to answer these questions?
Rod Raglin
Despite the lack of success of my first novel, Saving Spirit Bear, my publisher was still keen on publishing two more novels as part of the Eco-Fi series, Eco-Warriors, and I was still keen on writing them. The plan (remember the plan?) appeared flawed, but perhaps not fatally.
As a journalist I'd been following and commenting on a local protest where residents and hardcore environmentalists had joined forces to boycott the development of a highway bypass that would destroy Eagleridge Bluffs, a very rare eco-system, home to migratory birds and at least one endangered species.
Despite a number of other viable options the government was intransigent. In frustration the protestors set up a blockade and eventually were arrested and literally dragged off to jail.
I've spent the best part of my life climbing and hiking in the local mountains. I've seen some awe-inspiring scenery, moments when I truly felt if I died in the presence of such magnificence, well, that would be just fine.
But Eagleridge Bluffs was the best. These ancient rock faces, carved by eons of Pacific storms roaring down Georgia Strait, and decorated by gnarled Arbutus Trees emanated a benign energy that soothed and uplifted the human spirit - no kidding.
When they dynamited The Bluffs they destroyed something very special and to this day I feel guilty. I should have done more to save this wonderful wild place that I loved.
But what could I have done? Loving the Terrorist - Risking it All, is that story.
Miriam is forty and frustrated. In an attempt to enhance her living-just-to-breathe life she joins some neighbours protesting a highway bypass that will destroy Eagleridge Bluffs. Not only are the Bluffs her special sanctuary, they’re also the beautiful home of rare and endangered plants and animals.
The protest gains the support of environmental organizations including the attention of a group of eco-radicals lead by an enigmatic younger man named Zaahir.
Miriam is mesmerized by this charismatic leader and sees him as someone that can save her as well as the Bluffs. But is Zaahir just using Miriam to help him further his radical political agenda?
As legal channels fail and civil disobedience falters, Miriam is seduced into the murky world of eco-terrorism.
The plot of this story follows the actual events that took place over three months that summer - up to a point. I literally lifted dialogue for my characters from news clips and stories. Then I took it further.
I wanted to explore the theme - is violence justified if the cause is just? Furthermore, is violence effective?
I wanted a sympathetic villain because as an author if you have a political agenda (and boy, did I) the only way to keep from sounding didactic is to also present it from the point of view of the anatgonist - and do it fairly. I gleaned this from Robert Boswell's book, The Half-Known World: On Writing Fiction. Not only does this approach work it, was a good idea since I wasn't quite sure where I stood on this issue myself.
I took the criticism of my first novel to heart and "sexed up" this one.
This presented a challenge and I wondered how I could write explicitly about sex without it being gratuitous? I decided to make Miriam a virgin, her lover fifteen years younger than her, and she white and him brown. My idea was to let my readers discover sex along with my heroine.
I hit most of the points including a "Happy Ever After" ending but even as I was writing the novel I could tell I was straying beyond the confines of the romance genre. Despite the ending, this wasn't a happy story, how could it be - innocent creatures were wiped out, a beautiful, spiritual place was destroyed, and for no good reason (as if there ever is one).
I couldn't help it, I couldn't change it. It bombed, but I felt better.
By the time Loving the Terrorist was published I was well into the third novel for the Eco-Warriors series. I'd learned quite a bit about writing and about publishing and even more about myself. This would be my last romance. I knew I was leaving genre even as I was writing Not Wonder More, Mad Maggie and the Mystery of the Ancients. I was also becoming increasingly dissatisfied with my publisher (and no doubt, she with me) and had begun exploring other options.
Next Question: Did your third novel Not Wonder More, Mad Maggie and the Mystery of the Ancients resolve the issue of whether to write genre or literary fiction? And what about your publisher?
As a journalist I'd been following and commenting on a local protest where residents and hardcore environmentalists had joined forces to boycott the development of a highway bypass that would destroy Eagleridge Bluffs, a very rare eco-system, home to migratory birds and at least one endangered species.
Despite a number of other viable options the government was intransigent. In frustration the protestors set up a blockade and eventually were arrested and literally dragged off to jail.
I've spent the best part of my life climbing and hiking in the local mountains. I've seen some awe-inspiring scenery, moments when I truly felt if I died in the presence of such magnificence, well, that would be just fine.
But Eagleridge Bluffs was the best. These ancient rock faces, carved by eons of Pacific storms roaring down Georgia Strait, and decorated by gnarled Arbutus Trees emanated a benign energy that soothed and uplifted the human spirit - no kidding.
When they dynamited The Bluffs they destroyed something very special and to this day I feel guilty. I should have done more to save this wonderful wild place that I loved.
But what could I have done? Loving the Terrorist - Risking it All, is that story.
Miriam is forty and frustrated. In an attempt to enhance her living-just-to-breathe life she joins some neighbours protesting a highway bypass that will destroy Eagleridge Bluffs. Not only are the Bluffs her special sanctuary, they’re also the beautiful home of rare and endangered plants and animals.
The protest gains the support of environmental organizations including the attention of a group of eco-radicals lead by an enigmatic younger man named Zaahir.
Miriam is mesmerized by this charismatic leader and sees him as someone that can save her as well as the Bluffs. But is Zaahir just using Miriam to help him further his radical political agenda?
As legal channels fail and civil disobedience falters, Miriam is seduced into the murky world of eco-terrorism.
The plot of this story follows the actual events that took place over three months that summer - up to a point. I literally lifted dialogue for my characters from news clips and stories. Then I took it further.
I wanted to explore the theme - is violence justified if the cause is just? Furthermore, is violence effective?
I wanted a sympathetic villain because as an author if you have a political agenda (and boy, did I) the only way to keep from sounding didactic is to also present it from the point of view of the anatgonist - and do it fairly. I gleaned this from Robert Boswell's book, The Half-Known World: On Writing Fiction. Not only does this approach work it, was a good idea since I wasn't quite sure where I stood on this issue myself.
I took the criticism of my first novel to heart and "sexed up" this one.
This presented a challenge and I wondered how I could write explicitly about sex without it being gratuitous? I decided to make Miriam a virgin, her lover fifteen years younger than her, and she white and him brown. My idea was to let my readers discover sex along with my heroine.
I hit most of the points including a "Happy Ever After" ending but even as I was writing the novel I could tell I was straying beyond the confines of the romance genre. Despite the ending, this wasn't a happy story, how could it be - innocent creatures were wiped out, a beautiful, spiritual place was destroyed, and for no good reason (as if there ever is one).
I couldn't help it, I couldn't change it. It bombed, but I felt better.
By the time Loving the Terrorist was published I was well into the third novel for the Eco-Warriors series. I'd learned quite a bit about writing and about publishing and even more about myself. This would be my last romance. I knew I was leaving genre even as I was writing Not Wonder More, Mad Maggie and the Mystery of the Ancients. I was also becoming increasingly dissatisfied with my publisher (and no doubt, she with me) and had begun exploring other options.
Next Question: Did your third novel Not Wonder More, Mad Maggie and the Mystery of the Ancients resolve the issue of whether to write genre or literary fiction? And what about your publisher?
Rod Raglin
Many sites I post my books on have a question and answer component - the readers ask the authors questions. I've never actually asked a question of any author whose work I've read, though sometimes I pose them in my reviews, and I've never received a question from a reader.
Most of these are stock questions generated by the site, like Goodreads. Most of the questions that aren't I've come to believe are also bogus - asked by a friend or even the author themselves with hopes the answers will spark some sort of dialogue or?
We are a desperate lot, aren't we.
Here's a question I often ponder and so I asked myself and am sharing the answer with you. If you find this exercise slightly distasteful than consider yourself partly to blame for not asking me your own questions.
How's that for rationalization?
QUESTION: How did you come to write your first novel, Saving Spirit Bear?
I had a plan to become a successful, published author.
I would begin writing romance novels because they have the most readers of any kind of fiction and are the easiest to get published. This is not to say authors of genre fiction aren’t good writers. I have subsequently learned that writing within the confines of genre is more difficult than doing otherwise.
Back to the plan.
Once I had a bit of a publishing track record traditional publishers of mainstream, literary fiction would be more likely to consider me. Right?
Saving Spirit Bear was my first novel. The theme I wanted to explore was whether the end ever justifies the means? I wanted to present real moral dilemmas for both the protagonists and the antagonists, not just the desire for profit or power. For example, is it all right to compromise your integrity if the goal is just and noble?
As well as presenting a satisfying romance, I hoped to address this issue by introducing a subplot about an environmental issue, in this case endangered species and destruction of their habitat, something I feel strongly about.
The story's about Kimberly James, an ambitious, young, junior executive in a New York corporate relations firm who sees an opportunity to advance her career by doing whatever's necessary to push through the development of a mega ski resort in Canada.
Jonah Baker is part owner of a lodge on the land of the proposed ski resort. He's an ardent environmentalist and not about to permit a development that threatens ancient rainforests and the habitat of the rare and endangered Spirit Bear for any price.
Kim begrudgingly respects his principles before profit, but cannot allow a tree-hugging, bear-loving zealot to derail her fast track to success. Jonah admires her determination and worldliness, but will fight to the end to stop a materialistic corporate climber from destroying something rare and unique.
You likely know the rest of this story because genre literature is formulaic and if you read romance you know what's going to happen. If you don't and you want to find out go to my Amazon Author's Page at http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6LEU and buy a copy.
Anyhow, after striking out with agents and traditional publishers I sent Saving Spirit Bear to three e-publishers. All of them wanted to publish it. I chose one and rationalized my failure to attract any real publishers by saying e-books were preferable - less impact on the environment.
It would be an overstatement to say sales were mediocre. Reviews were almost non-existent. No agents or traditional publishers came knocking on my door.
At the time I was a member of the local chapter of Romance Writers of America (eighty-five women and two men). Since I wasn't getting any significant reader response I asked the published writers in my RWA chapter what they thought the problem(s) was?
Saving Spirit Bear, I was told , was not popular with romance readers for a number of reasons. I didn’t introduce the love interests soon enough. My ‘Happily Ever After’ was lukewarm or not at all. I needed to ‘sex it up’. My subplots overshadowed the romance. My heroes lacked testosterone. My heroines didn’t show enough vulnerability. My words were too big, my plots too real, my characters too unlikable. My stories were out of control.
However, I was encourage by my publisher who dubbed the book Eco-Fi (environmental fiction) and asked for two more with a similar theme for a series entitled Eco-Warriors.
There was never any question about letting the lack of success of my first novel defeat me. I love to write - successfully or otherwise and during the process of writing Saving Spirit Bear I experienced glimpses of something very exciting - the story following it's own course and the characters taking on lives of their own.
I eagerly set about writing my second novel but I was worried. Would I find my next story and it's characters restricted by the confines of this genre?
Next Question: Did you find your next story and it's characters restricted by the confines of this genre?
The answer is forthcoming.
Stay calm, be brave, watch for the signs
Most of these are stock questions generated by the site, like Goodreads. Most of the questions that aren't I've come to believe are also bogus - asked by a friend or even the author themselves with hopes the answers will spark some sort of dialogue or?
We are a desperate lot, aren't we.
Here's a question I often ponder and so I asked myself and am sharing the answer with you. If you find this exercise slightly distasteful than consider yourself partly to blame for not asking me your own questions.
How's that for rationalization?
QUESTION: How did you come to write your first novel, Saving Spirit Bear?
I had a plan to become a successful, published author.
I would begin writing romance novels because they have the most readers of any kind of fiction and are the easiest to get published. This is not to say authors of genre fiction aren’t good writers. I have subsequently learned that writing within the confines of genre is more difficult than doing otherwise.
Back to the plan.
Once I had a bit of a publishing track record traditional publishers of mainstream, literary fiction would be more likely to consider me. Right?
Saving Spirit Bear was my first novel. The theme I wanted to explore was whether the end ever justifies the means? I wanted to present real moral dilemmas for both the protagonists and the antagonists, not just the desire for profit or power. For example, is it all right to compromise your integrity if the goal is just and noble?
As well as presenting a satisfying romance, I hoped to address this issue by introducing a subplot about an environmental issue, in this case endangered species and destruction of their habitat, something I feel strongly about.
The story's about Kimberly James, an ambitious, young, junior executive in a New York corporate relations firm who sees an opportunity to advance her career by doing whatever's necessary to push through the development of a mega ski resort in Canada.
Jonah Baker is part owner of a lodge on the land of the proposed ski resort. He's an ardent environmentalist and not about to permit a development that threatens ancient rainforests and the habitat of the rare and endangered Spirit Bear for any price.
Kim begrudgingly respects his principles before profit, but cannot allow a tree-hugging, bear-loving zealot to derail her fast track to success. Jonah admires her determination and worldliness, but will fight to the end to stop a materialistic corporate climber from destroying something rare and unique.
You likely know the rest of this story because genre literature is formulaic and if you read romance you know what's going to happen. If you don't and you want to find out go to my Amazon Author's Page at http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003DS6LEU and buy a copy.
Anyhow, after striking out with agents and traditional publishers I sent Saving Spirit Bear to three e-publishers. All of them wanted to publish it. I chose one and rationalized my failure to attract any real publishers by saying e-books were preferable - less impact on the environment.
It would be an overstatement to say sales were mediocre. Reviews were almost non-existent. No agents or traditional publishers came knocking on my door.
At the time I was a member of the local chapter of Romance Writers of America (eighty-five women and two men). Since I wasn't getting any significant reader response I asked the published writers in my RWA chapter what they thought the problem(s) was?
Saving Spirit Bear, I was told , was not popular with romance readers for a number of reasons. I didn’t introduce the love interests soon enough. My ‘Happily Ever After’ was lukewarm or not at all. I needed to ‘sex it up’. My subplots overshadowed the romance. My heroes lacked testosterone. My heroines didn’t show enough vulnerability. My words were too big, my plots too real, my characters too unlikable. My stories were out of control.
However, I was encourage by my publisher who dubbed the book Eco-Fi (environmental fiction) and asked for two more with a similar theme for a series entitled Eco-Warriors.
There was never any question about letting the lack of success of my first novel defeat me. I love to write - successfully or otherwise and during the process of writing Saving Spirit Bear I experienced glimpses of something very exciting - the story following it's own course and the characters taking on lives of their own.
I eagerly set about writing my second novel but I was worried. Would I find my next story and it's characters restricted by the confines of this genre?
Next Question: Did you find your next story and it's characters restricted by the confines of this genre?
The answer is forthcoming.
Stay calm, be brave, watch for the signs
Rod Raglin
When I got up this morning I thought I'd work on my next novel but then I decided I better have some coffee first. After coffee I scrolled through the television channels to see if there were any good documentaries to tape when my creative energy wound down. By then is was time for lunch and after lunch it had stopped raining so I went for a run. That natural beauty so inspired me that a couple of lines of poetry sprang into my mind, but by the time I returned home I'd forgotten them. I thought I work on a short story I'm developing but couldn't locate the file on my computer. By the time I did it was time for dinner and afterward I watched television. I felt it had been quite a productive day.
Tomorrow I'll start by shaving.
Tomorrow I'll start by shaving.
Rod Raglin
I love to write and indeed, am writing all the time – at least in my head. I’m constantly wondering “what if?”, and in my imagination turning normal situations on their heads. Sometimes it bubbles over and I scribble dialogue on napkins, the back of my hand, whatever’s available.
There seems to be two different types of people interested in writing – those who "have" to write and those who "would like" to write. Questions like this most often come from the latter.
There seems to be two different types of people interested in writing – those who "have" to write and those who "would like" to write. Questions like this most often come from the latter.
Rod Raglin
Never having to worry about what you're going to do with all the money you're making.
Rod Raglin
Story is creative, but writing is craft. Like any craft, the more you practice the better you get at it. You must hone your craft as a vehicle for telling the story. Read books, take courses, attend seminars and conferences, but above all, keep practicing. You can learn how to write better. Will that make you a writer? Maybe.
Rod Raglin
I’m trained as a journalist and so have never had writer’s block. My experience has been that I have twenty minutes to deadline and forty inches of space to fill with copy. It’s not always inspired but at least it’s not a blank page.
Rod Raglin
Are there issues in society that disturb you? Among other things (I've got lots of issues) I'm concerned about the environment. My first three novels dealt with environmental issues in the context of a contemporary romance. I found it satisfying and enlightening to do the research on the issue and develop characters that address them.
My most recent novel, The Big Picture (soon to be published) is about the proliferation of narco-dollars and how it effects so much of our society from the wars we fight, the governments we elect, our healthcare system, the police and judiciary, right down to our personal relationships.
My most recent novel, The Big Picture (soon to be published) is about the proliferation of narco-dollars and how it effects so much of our society from the wars we fight, the governments we elect, our healthcare system, the police and judiciary, right down to our personal relationships.
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