Guest Post: Sam Moffie, author of The Book of Eli
Today we are joined by Sam Moffie, author of The Book of Eli (and no, not the Denzel movie *wink*), No Mad and The Organ Grinder and the Monkey, as he tells us a little about his struggles with ADD.
The Book of Eli synopsis: Eli Canaan is a believer. And, like many, he believes himself to be a principled man. Well, for the most part anyway. But, after a series of misteps, sins, some would say, Eli’s life is suddenly and unexpectedly altered forever. A spurned wife, a gypsy, a hex and spiritual intervention may all be at the root of Eli’s unexpected, deep and earnest introspection. ( Purchase ) ( Goodreads )
Attention Deficit Disorder isn’t all that bad, especially if it is “manageable”.
A few years ago, my editor said that I suffered from “manageable Attention Deficit Disorder”. Since she holds a degree in being a mind doctor and her husband is a leading child mind doctor; I thought I better pay attention.
At first, I wondered what this had to do with my plots, settings, characters, etc. I mean, isn’t that what my editor is supposed to be paying attention to? At least she could have beaten me up for minor grammar, misuse of the semi-colon or a host of other items. As if we authors need to be criticized about something else! While she was explaining to me why she thought I suffered from such a strangely sounding disease, I kept waiting for an NFL official to show up and throw the flag for 15 yards – piling on. Alas, after a few minutes, no official stopped by and I was forced to listen. Least I mention that after I was taken to the woodshed about my mental state she then had the backbone to start criticizing my plots, settings, themes and characters. What a phone call! Needless to say, later that night I was able to bitch and moan to my muse (it helped we both drank a few glasses of red wine during this frank discussion).
To my utter amazement, my muse agreed… not with me, but my editor!
Two against one. What was I going to do?
Why use my “MADD” to my advantage. By the way, in owning 2 bars I embraced my “MADD” acronym, because the other MADD is always trying to shut me down!
Anyways, I now do a little rewriting, work out, clean the house, rewrite and then market. Take a break, rewrite, walk the dog, go to the bars to accomplish some things that help allow me to afford to write. Do errands, rewrite, market, answer emails, get yelled at by someone and then start all over again in the afternoon. At night I take a break.
And you know what? It works!
Getting things done in the business of writing novels in little spurts has been very successful for me. Maybe for you dear reader it is in one long bender.
The best part is that we are both right.
Excuse me, I have to go and do ___________________ (fill in blank).
About Sam: A lifelong baseball fan, Youngstown, Ohio resident Sam Moffie graduated from Wittenberg University. He manages two sports bars, serving on the front lines of America’s most heated debate topics: sex, sports and politics. Sam has three children, one son-in-law, one grand daughter, two dogs, two cats and one1 strike-out at marriage. Visit his website at http://www.samsstories.com.
Today we are joined by historical fiction author, Mary Sharratt (The Vanishing Point; Bitch Lit; The Real Minerva). Mary’s latest book, Daughters of the Witching Hill, was released last month through Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. This vividly crafted novel tells the story of Mother Demdike, a cunning woman from Lancashire, England who was never given the chance to speak on her own behalf against allegations of witchcraft. In Daughters of the Witching Hill, Mary gives Mother Demdike her say.
My first paranormal romance for HQN is out next Tuesday, March 30th, 
“I originally stumbled across a call for submissions for this anthology in a community on LiveJournal that centered around the Morrigan. I’m familiar with the Morrigan from a life-long love of the different mythologies of the world. Additionally, roughly three-quarters of my ancestry is rooted in Ireland and Scotland, the ancient home of the Morrigan. I’ve known since I was fairly young (14 or 15, perhaps) that the Catholic faith I was brought up in wasn’t a good fit for me. It wasn’t that I didn’t necessarily believe in those things; it was more that they didn’t sing to me. I could believe in them the same way that I could believe that the earth revolved around the sun, but they didn’t inspire me with the deep faith that so many saints and mystics have written of. 
