Maybe you heard about the whole Exhibit A thing. They were my publisher, but they’ve gone belly up. Since they published three of my books (would have been four if they had held on a few more months) I guess I’m as responsible as anyone. To the half-dozen or so of you who actually bought my books, thank you. To the rest of you, I hope you feel just awful.
Anyway, that throws me back into the pool with everybody else, scrambling for a deal, trying to draw some attention to myself. So I guess I should get back to blogging. That and being a shameless whore on social media. But how to restart the blog with a bang? By killing Dan Malmon, that’s how.
You see, I accepted a contract on the little bastard. Last November Jon Jordan was kind enough to invite me up to Murder and Mayhem in Muskego. Which, if you’re a writer, is just about the most fun you can have with your pants on (or, at my age, with them off). Anyway, they had this deal where folks could bid on the opportunity to name a character in your next book, with all the money going to charity. I had one book out at the time that pretty much no one had read, but I was still narcissistic enough to throw my hat in the ring. People were tripping all over themselves be characters in the other authors’ books, but my poor sheet sat there all empty and lonely. So Jon, being the gracious host he is, ponied up, saying I had to put Malmon in my next book, but with a codicil. I had to kill him.And I did. I had a two-book deal with Exhibit A for a series featuring William Shakespeare as an unwilling Elizabethan private dick. I was just starting the second book, so I wrote Malmon into that. Killed the hell out of him, real gruesome Elizabethan torture stuff. But Exhibit A went the way of all flesh before Malmon’s inglorious demise went public, so now that novel’s unlikely to see the light of day unless I self publish it or something. But that’s not what Jon paid for. Jon paid for Malmon to die in the full, published sight of my entire devoted readership of, eh, dozens.
Tropes are bad, I know. But there are certain tropes you shouldn’t mess with. Like the implacable hit man – they guy who, once he takes the dough, is gonna kill his target no matter what. Think Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men.
So I’m gonna kill Malmon again in the book I’m writing now. And I’m gonna keep killing him in whatever I write until he dies in a book on a shelf at a store near you. ‘Cause that’s what a good hit man does.
But a good hit man doesn’t miss his deadlines, and I told Jon that Malmon would die a gruesome public death by the end of the year. Now I’m counting on all of you to help make that happen.
So here’s the deal. A good ol’ flash fiction contest. You know the rules – 1,000 words or less. But you gotta kill Malmon.
Not enough? As they say in all the good infomercials, wait, there’s more!
If you’re a crime fiction fan, then you’ve heard the sad news of Murder in Muskego’s demise. You may also have heard that the Jordans (Jon and his lovely wife Ruth) are working to rebuild it, to make it better than it was. To help that effort in some small way, I’ll be sending the Jordans $10 for the every story I receive. (Well, for the first 25 anyway. Gotta cap it somewhere. I don’t have those big Exhibit A bucks anymore.)
And there’s even more! The Jordans get to pick their favorite Kill Malmon story to run in Crimespree Magazine. I’ll send the lucky bastard (or bastardess) who authors that tale a shiny new check for $50. And Crimespree corporate headquarters will toss in a one-year supscription to CRIMEESPREE for their two favorite stories!
So fire up your keyboards, word monkeys, and kill Malmon. Kill him good.
You got two weeks. Shoot me a link to your blog or wherever else on the web you put the sucker up. On July 15, I’ll post all the links right here.
And the Interwebs will run with Malmon blood.
Wouldn’t be right to enter my own contest, but just for shits and giggles, I kill Malmon here. Little sumpin’ sumpin’ to get things rolling.