Putting all your eggs . . . into two baskets

I write. I'm not saying I'm necessarily good at it. Or make a living at it. But I write. I write genre. Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Noir. Always wanted to. To be honest the style I use while I write is different. Nuanced along different paths. Since I haven't really found books--and authors--who have consistantly captured my full attention, I thought, "Well hell, I can do better than that!"

All good writers have to feel that way. Right?

So what does this rambling tirade have to do with eggs and two baskets? Here's the tie-in; over the years I've had my bumps and bruises in the literary world. Lit agents who promised the moon, and instead, threw your material in trash can, publishers who " . . love your work, baby!" and reneged on their promises. Agents who actually just disappear--I mean simply disappear off the face of the earth--taking manuscripts with them.

Bumps and bruises.

So I've decided. No one group, agency, publisher, or witches' coven, is gonna handle ALL of my material. And forget literary agents. They've certainly forgotten me.

Two small publishers are bringing my material out. One we've already talked about. Trestle Press. I'm happy as a lark about it. They've got a character of mine called Smitty. Nice guy. Well, maybe nice just before he cuts your throat. They're also have an art thief who has the unlucky talent in getting involved in other people's homicides. A character by the name of Jake Renolds. And finally they have a warrior-monk . . . and an accomplished wizard . . .who, shall we say, carries a heavy emotional/psychological burden on his shoulders.

The second publishing house is Untreed Reads. An epublisher only. Already established. Already well known. Very good at what they do. They put their ebooks in a huge, huge market. They've got Turner Hahn and Frank Morales. Two homicide detectives who are, we might attribute . . . a little unusual in their investigative techniques. And in their personas. Their next book, 'A Taste of Old Revenge' is aimed for June. Or at least, the last time I heard, it was.

Lots of eggs. Two baskets.

And waiting to see the results.