Tuesday, September 3, 2013

We are mayflies, etc etc

This morning’s vexing news is that Rhemalda Publishing, the very sweet folks who published my debut novel The Astrologer and had planned to publish my philosophical detective novel The Transcendental Detective in November of this year, are closing up shop. It’s a rough world for small presses and after three years and a couple dozen titles, Rhett and Emmaline have had enough. Good luck and God bless them, those plucky kids from central Washington.

What this means for me is that The Transcendental Detective no longer has a home. The rights revert back to me and I can do what I like with it, and there are a couple of other small presses I’m looking at, so we’ll just see what happens there. No promises. Also, The Astrologer will go out of print, probably sometime in January 2014. If you want to buy a copy, now is the time to do it. Me, I’m running to the University Book Store at lunch and picking up every copy they have on the shelves. I tell myself that one day they will be valuable collector’s items. Or tinder, if the winters get colder and snowier.

In the meanwhile, I continue to write the first draft of The Hanging Man, the sequel to The Transcendental Detective, because I really like the book so far and I’ve promised Mighty Reader something new by Christmas. I also have several other irons in the fire, and I have vague plans to write more short stories, or possibly a couple of wee novellas, in 2014. Not sure; we’ll see.

I confess myself quite exhausted today. The three-day “Labor Day” weekend was spent constructing and erecting a 13-foot picket fence out of recycled lumber. All of the pickets were individually cut down from much wider boards, and if I never hear the sound of a circular saw again, I shall be a happy man. If I can get a photo of the fence from Mighty Reader, I’ll post it here later.

Later: This is not a great photo of me, but it's a pretty good picture of the fence:


  1. I'm sorry about Rhemalda and all your plans. That is so disheartening. However, you will find another home for your work. You're a brilliant writer.

    Good for you for putting up the fence. I am a cattle fence girl from way back. No saws for me, but digging fence post holes is another story.

  2. I don't know about brilliant, but ta awfully much. I admit that my level of discomfort over the whole publishing business is usually pretty high anyway.

    I don't dig post holes. I'm pretty good at pouring cement footers, though.

  3. Good luck finding a new publisher. When the publisher of my first book closed up shop. I was a basket case! Kudos to you for staying positive.

  4. Ah, what a shame. What a rough business.

    Good luck with the next round.

  5. I really like that fence! And that picture of you. :)

  6. Shauna, I've had weird luck with publishing so far. But the writing remains a lot of fun.

    Tom, publishing is crazy. So is writing. I keep writing. I hope to keep publishing. We'll see. Watch this space, etc. But if I begin writing weird and unpublishable Melvillean novels, I will blame you.

    Michelle, it's a good fence. The guy standing behind it needs a haircut. And a beer, as I recall.

  7. Good luck on finding a new publisher. I am looking forward to reading more of your work.