When I was a kid, I was obsessed with books. I could sit in my room and read for hours. My mom would ground me by taking my books away, or sometimes she would take them to make me go play outside. My middle school was next to the city's public library, so on certain days I would go there for a couple of hours and she would pick me up from there.
When I looked at the rows of books it had been my goal to read all of them. Didn't happen of course, but one day when I was struggling to find a good book to read, I remembered that goal and went to the first shelf, first book, and started reading.
The first book I'm guessing to be in the "cozy" category, a subcategory of mystery. It was awful. I won't post the book titles for my negative reviews, but I honestly don't know how this got published. The writing was mediocre at best, and the plot had holes in it. I stopped reading when someone was murdered in broad daylight on the street in front of a shop holding its grand opening, and no one saw a thing. Worse yet, the main suspect was an old, fragile lady and the victim a big, strapping man, killed by stabbing.
When I read it, it gave me hope. If something this awful can get published, so can mine, however difficult it might be to go traditional these days. It was published recently too.
The second book I started came out in 1989. It's kind of a flashback for me because that's the year I graduated from high school. I'm about halfway through the 400 pages and the title is Agent of Influence. It's REALLY good. Talk about character sketches- the characters are very appealing. What I keep thinking is how a good book can fall into obscurity. After you've made it to publication, there is no guarantee of success.
That's it for today- I'm off to the zoo with the kids!