One thing I've noticed, and one thing I'm quite happy to report is: With each book, I find I'm trying to tackle some aspect of storytelling that scares me. I'm not talking about plot or story here; I'm talking about the man-behind-the-curtains stuff. With WAKING LAZARUS, I was terrified to write about a baddie (a child abductor) whose mind I didn't want to spend time in. But I did it, precisely because I was scared to. With THE DEAD WHISPER ON, I was scared to write a "big" story with stakes far beyond the characters involved. But I did it, again, because I was scared to. And with CREEP CLUB, I was scared to tackle a more intense, twisting plot--something with a more high-octane pace. But I did it, and you know why.

I'm also starting to notice some of the themes that are present in my work--the things I keep returning to again and again. And in a bit of self-reflection, I'm wondering why.

Tops on that list: I'm drawn to anti-heroes. A lot of authors, especially in the thriller and suspense category, tend to write what I call "Wish Fulfillment Stories." That is, their main characters are extensions of what they wish they, themselves, could be. That means the main characters are devastatingly good-looking, utterly brilliant, and filled with an unwavering sense of justice. Oh, sure, they may be tortured, with scarred pasts--a divorced alcoholic or a cop whose mistake killed someone are good bets--but overall, they're romanticized ideals. And I'm not complaining; I'm just observing. I read and love a lot of these stories.

I'm not like that, I find. I'd rather spend time inside the heads of people who are tortured loners. People who have mental problems. People who hate themselves. People who are slow to figure out what's going on. People who are janitors or garbage collectors or panhandlers.

So what does that say about me? I'm not sure. I'm sure Freud would have some ideas. But I do think I enjoy finding the spark of the divine, if you will, inside unexpected characters. Maybe that's it; if I can write a story about a guy who hides in ceilings and closets to spy on other people (the main character of CREEP CLUB), and make him discover something heroic about himself, maybe I feel like I'm in pretty good shape.

Or maybe I'm just twisted. That one works, too.

And yet, it's wrapping up nicely. I like it. At least at this stage. When it goes through four or five more successive drafts after some back-and-forth ideas with the publisher, I'm sure I'll get sick of it. But now, in the moment, it's a lot of fun.

I won't lie; writing this novel has been difficult. Part of it has been because of the particular challenges presented by this story and its main character. Part of it has been because "real life" got in the way for much of the year, making it difficult to concentrate on writing.

But what has helped me break free from that, in the last month, has been the television series Lost. Ever since this series debuted, I've had zillions of people say, "Man, I bet you love Lost." In truth, I'd never watched it--not because I hadn't wanted to, but because I generally don't watch much TV at all. It's not that I hate television, it's just that I don't make time for it. And once I'd missed much of the first season of Lost, I didn't want to get caught in the middle of it all, and so on and so on.

In September, when I had to go into isolation to recover from a medical procedure, my Lovely Wife sent me away with a nice parting gift: Season One of Lost on DVD. Well, what better time to start watching?

I have to say, 10 minutes into the first episode of the first season, I knew this show was going to be something special. I knew it was going to be something I wouldn't just like, but something I'd love.

And it has been, right up through episode 16 of Season Two (where I am currently--no spoilers, if you're going to leave a comment). I love the dynamics at work. I love the front stories and the back stories. I love the characters you're unsure how to feel about as their stories keep unfolding. I love it all.

And somewhere, during my mad Lost-A-Thon of the last month or so, a giant logjam broke on my own writing. Not because Lost has anything to do with my current story at all, but because something so well done inspires the creative juices. Often--usually, in fact--that creative inspiration comes from reading other writers. To this day, if I'm feeling stuck, I can pick up almost any Stephen King novel and get back into a groove.

But inspiration for writers doesn't always come in the form of other books. It comes in the form of any great, well-told story. Sometimes, an ever-unfolding story about an island of tortured souls.

So, yes, I'm probably the last person on earth to discover the joys of this program. But I intend to make up for--ahem--lost time. When Season 3's DVD goes on sale in December, you can bet I'll be standing in line to buy it. And when Season 4 premieres next February, you can bet I'll be watching.

After all, I have other books to write.

The event will be part of a fundraising day for the Parmly Billings Library Foundation; for anything and everything you purchase that day, all you have to do is mention "the library" and a portion of the proceeds will go to the foundation. Easy enough, huh?

If you can make it, please drop by. I'll do my best to field questions. (Unless you ask about the airspeed velocity of unladen swallows. You'll need to clarify if you're talking about African or European Swallows.)

• WHAT: TL Hines Reading & Signing
• WHERE: Billings Barnes & Noble, 530 S 24th Street West (View Map)
• WHEN: Sunday, November 4th, 2:00 pm to 4:00 pm
• WHY: To benefit the Parmly Billings Library Foundation
• HOW: Just mention "the library" when you check out any time during the day Sunday
• MORE: Download the event flyer (Microsloth Word Doc). To find out more about the event, or to reserve a book ahead of time, or to just talk to a genuinely nice person, contact Lorrie Niles at B&N: 406-655-9500. If you're a Facebook person, find out a bit more at the event page posted there; or, if you're a MySpace junkie, go to that event page.

Yes, Indonesia.

I suppose I expected the first foreign rights to be sold in, I don't know, Mexico. Or Germany. Or France. Or, pretty much anywhere but Indonesia. (An International Trade Paperback version has been available in the UK, but this is the first translation.) I'm not quite sure how well a story of murder and evil in rural Montana will translate for folks in Indonesia. But I suppose some feelings, emotions, and stories are universal, aren't they? We can all feel fear, and joy, and despair. Those are emotions I think (I hope) are present in the story.

And so, I'll look forward to receiving my first Indonesian copy of Waking Lazarus. Or Membangunkan Lazarus, as my quick online translator tells me.

I can brag about this honor, because it really has nothing to do with me; congrats go to Bethany House Publishers and Studio Gearbox, the cover design firm. According to the ECPA, finalists were selected based on "the target book reader's characteristics and the design components used to match those characteristics (subject matter, images, font treatment, color palette, and title)." I think it's easy to see why DWO's cover was selected--really, the title, design, images, and overall treatment do a wonderful job of conveying the kind of story contained inside. I'm pretty sure no one picks up the book, expecting to read a nice prairie romance.

And hey, a big old tip of the lid to the ECPA for adding something so--well, creepy--to its list of finalists. Who woulda thunk it?

The majority of people I hear from say, "I liked the other one better" in not so many words. Most are quite a bit more diplomatic about it--"I loved both, but the other one was my favorite"--but that's the general gist. What makes it interesting is this remark seems to cut both ways: people who read the second book first seem to like it more, while people who read the first book first seem to like it more.

I'll admit, my first two books are different. But not all that different. I like to call my stuff "Noir Bizarre," and I think both of them fit under that umbrella by offering supernaturally-tinged suspense stories. WAKING LAZARUS is more of a mystery/whodunnit, while THE DEAD WHISPER ON is more of a horror-tinged work. But both belong on the same book shelf, I think.

And yet, most readers seem to perceive a more marked difference between the two. Interesting. I think there's a natural human phenomenon at work here: if you read something, and you like it enough to search out the author's other works, you're naturally going to compare it against that first work. And that first work was good enough to convince you to find something else by said author, so the bar is pretty high. Even if the second work is comparable in many ways, well, it's probably going to suffer. After all, your second taste of chocolate is never going to compare to your first taste of chocolate; you don't think back, years later, and say, "I distinctly remember the second time I had chocolate." It's the firsts that stick in our minds, and so people will probably gravitate toward the first book they've read by an author. A quick rehash of some favorite authors of my own confirm this is largely true for me; my favorite books by favorite authors, in most instances, are the first books I read by them. Not always, by any stretch, but usually.

Something to think about as I pound toward the finish line on book #3. Perhaps I should be hoping for a huge infusion of new readers, or I might be subjected to: "I liked the other two better."

I've also neglected to mention the trade paperback edition of Waking Lazarus, which has also gone into a second printing, and an audiobook version of Waking Lazarus over at audible.com, read in full-throated brilliance by Tom Stechschulte. This now gives me one degree of separation from James Ellroy and Cormac McCarthy, both of whom have had books read by Mr. Stechschulte in audiobook format.

I must confess to being something of an audiobook junkie; on long trips, I love to listen to audiobooks downloaded onto my iPod, and at least a dozen books I "read" every year are in audio format. Something of an art form in itself, good books are always made better by talented readers, and I always enjoyed Frank Muller's work on Stephen King stories; heck, I'd probably enjoy Frank Muller's work on anything. An old version of Cold Sassy Tree, a book I would not typically read, I must admit, was captivating as read by Richard Thomas. My nephew, who is perhaps a bigger audiobook aficianado than I, is most enchanted with the work of Jim Dale...but that may be because he's the voice of all the Harry Potter audiobooks.

But I'd have to say, perhaps my favorite single audiobook of all time is James Lee Burke's In the Moon of Red Ponies, as read by Will Patton. I can still hear Patton's rendition of Wyatt Dixon, psychotic rodeo clown, as he talks about drinking his "chemical cocktails." If you haven't read Burke's Bitterroot or In the Moon of Red Ponies, get thee out and read them now. Better yet, get thee out and find a copy of an audiobook read by Will Patton.

It's been getting some nice reviews, and I think it's different--and dare I say more ambitious?--than my first book. Living shadows, golems, spontaneous human combustion...it's all in here, along with a lot of information about good old Butte, Montana. Everyone should visit Butte once.

Perhaps most exciting, the book has a companion single, written and performed by the band Pivitplex. You can download it on iTunes, or venture over to www.deadwhisperon.com to win a free download; while you're there, you just might win a secret bonus prize, as well.

One caveat: I'm not in control of things over at the deadwhisperon.com site; I think you'll soon see who is.

This week (tomorrow, in fact), I'll be meeting with a second lymphoma specialist to talk about some options for treatment. That might include chemotherapy, or radioimmunotherapy (no, I did not make up that word), or a period of "watch and wait" to see how the disease progresses in my case.

I won't be posting much lymphoma news in this space. This space is reserved for my joys and passions: reading, writing, pop culture and what-not. Lymphoma does not count as one of my passions, and probably never will.

I have, however, been keeping a somewhat-daily account of my lymphoma journey online to keep family and friends updated; it's at www.tlhines.com/lymphoma, if you're interested.

If you're wondering about my health, and scared of the word "lymphoma" (I certainly was), let me reassure you: I'm going to be around a good, long time. The particular kind of lymphoma I have tends to be very slow-moving, so I may have several years before the disease even progresses and needs treatment.

In the meantime, my good pal lymphoma has sucked up a lot of valuable time--time I should have been spending talking about my new book, The Dead Whisper On, which should be on the shelves in a matter of weeks. I'll be rectifying that in the next several days; look for some new content, and a new contest, related to the book (and the new single by PivitPlex, inspired by the book) very soon.

It's not true. But I understand the mindset.

A lot of the equation is outside your control, so you can do everything just right and still not find success. Or, you can do a lot of things wrong and find success, anyway.

I'm not saying you should be fatalistic in the least. You should, of course, do as much as you can to tip the scales in your favor, and be ready when your shot comes. Pay attention to formatting and all the other things. They do count.

But here's an idea: Don't try to write a "CBA Book." Don't try to write an "ABA Book." Just write a book. If you're tempted, at any time, to go onto a forum or discussion list and ask, "Can I have a divorced character in a CBA book?" or "Can I have a character who prays in an ABA book?" immeditely take out a hammer and hit your thumb as hard as you can. Every time any such question pops into your mind after that, immediately hit your thumb with said hammer again.

Eventually--maybe after three or four good whacks--your thumb will convince your mind to stop asking those kinds of questions. And you'll be free to explore more meaningful questions: "What's my main character really want?" or "How can I make my villain seem more realistic?"

I guarantee you, there are CBA books with brutal content: rape, murder, child abductions (ahem), divorce, and mismatched silverware at tea parties. I guarantee you, there are ABA books with prayer, forgiveness, redemption and Christ-following characters who aren't Falwellian caricatures.

Just write the best book you can. If an editor falls in love with what you write, he or she will contact you and say, "I absolutely love this. I'd like to make some suggestions for changes, but I want it."

No one will contact you and say, "I absolutely love this. But I won't buy it, because Joe kisses Nancy on page 37." It just doesn't work that way. If an editor gets pulled into your story, he or she will find a way to champion you inside the publishing house.

Just write. And keep that hammer nearby.

The question, I suppose, people have in mind is: "What authors do you read?" And I'm happy to mention authors I've loved over the years: Stephen King, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury, Neil Gaiman, Elmore Leonard...these days, I can even point them to my page on LibraryThing, where I keep track of recent books--and all-time favorite books--I've read.

But the real answer to "Who are your influences" really goes much deeper than books, doesn't it? Last year, I was discussing books with another writer, wherein he observed that many writers today have obviously been inspired by comic books.

I have to say, I count myself among that group in some small measure. In my tween and early teen years, I spent many an hour in panel-by-panel study. At that time DC and Marvel were really the only two games in town, and I was always more partial to Marvel--their heroes seemed more angst-ridden, struggling with "real world" issues, while DC's heroes felt more idealistic. (Nothing wrong with that--the angsty stuff merely appealed more to my own adolescent mind.) The only DC comic I read with any regularity was Swamp Thing and, in all fairness, I quite loved that one. On the Marvel side, I was a fan of the X-Men, Silver Surfer (cribbed from one of my uncles), Iron Man, the Hulk, Dr. Strange, Conan, and a few lesser-known titles such as The Eternals.

But far and away, my two absolute favorites were Thor and Ghost Rider. I stayed with both over the span of a few years, collecting every issue. (I have high hopes for the new Nic Cage film version of Ghost Rider, but to be honest, I've not seen a comic book movie yet I absolutely loved. Nothing can compare with those carefully-studied panels of my youth.)

My penchant for Ghost Rider, it must be said, was probably fueled by my fascination with Evel Knievel, the real 70s superhero for boys my age, and he happened to hail from Butte, Montana--just a few hours from where I grew up. Even better, Evel was a blue collar guy, fresh from the dark mines and darker steets of Butte, who had risen to international prominence. Ghost Rider's and Thor's darker, more supernaturally-inspired elements were likely also fueled by my equal penchant for television series such as Rod Serling's Night Gallery and the original run of Kolchak: The Night Stalker.

Mix all these things together, and you get a concoction of the supernatural, tortured heroes who struggle with the evil inside themselves as much as the evil in their worlds, and "blue collar" personalities tackling long odds. Add my conversion to Christianity in my mid-20s, and you get an ongoing fascination with the mystical and spiritual elements of existence (which, in turn, probably started with my childhood love of Thor and Nordic mythology).

Now, think about it. My first book, "Waking Lazarus," was about a janitor who hides under a secret identity in a small Montana town, has died and been resurrected three times, and discovers he has powers that help him see into the lives of others. My second book, "The Dead Whisper On," is about a woman who is a former miner, living in Butte, recruited into a secret government network that works with "living" shadows.

Could my influences be any more transparent?

Why do I talk about all this? Partly because I still find it interesting, but partly because it's an answer to that original question so many paragraphs ago. Many of my literary influences weren't literary at all. They were real people, or comic book superheroes, or television characters, or even changing belief systems.

If you're a writer, it's great to read other writers--a lot of other writers--to find inspiration and motivation. But it's also worthwhile to recognize who else, and what else, have molded your writing sensibilities. You don't look for influences; more often, they find you.

So if you ask me who influenced me as a writer, don't be surprised when I say the Nordic God of Thunder.

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But it was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

The book received great reviews in all the major trades. It's in its third printing, and continues to sell well. And now, it has made Library Journal's "Best Books of 2006" List for Genre Fiction.

I have other news brewing, as well. But for now, as I reach the end of this incredible year, I just want to pause and give thanks for all the wonderful people who have helped make "Waking Lazarus" successful. That means Dave Long and everyone at Bethany House. That means independent booksellers and chains. That means librarians all across North America. That means reviewers and journalists who have taken the time to give the book some attention.

Most of all, that means each and every one of you who has picked up the book and read it.

You've all helped make 2006 a special year for me. And I'm enduringly grateful.

Turns out, I hadn't. The letter inside was a rejection. For "Waking Lazarus." You know, the book that was contracted 1 1/2 years ago, released several months ago, and is now approaching a third printing.

I looked at my records, and saw this particular literary agency had requsted the manuscript almost THREE YEARS ago. A lot can happen in three years. For instance, a book can be contracted, released, and approaching its third printing in that amount of time. Or did I already say that?

I suppose, on some level, the literary agency in question should be admired. (To protect their identity somewhat, I've removed names and addresses; however, if you're really interested in finding out the agency in question, and if you're good at googling, it shouldn't be hard to figure out.) Give them credit: they answered.

But isn't there a point of diminishing returns? Did they send this rejection, really expecting that I was waiting to hear from them? Did they really feel there was any upside in this at all? When you've waited three years, the only thing your letter will be used for is...well, a blog entry that notes how long it took. When I sent the package, a stamp cost just 37¢; the agency actually had to add two 1¢ stamps to my SASE to send it back. Let me say, after three years, 'tis far better to say nothing at all, in my opinion.

The letter delighted me, in any case. But I especially love these lines: "While the writing is promising, we're sorry to say that we didn't feel strongly confident that this is something we could place in today's extremely competitive market." Lines like these in rejection letters were always a bit of a pet peeve for me--and believe me, I've received a lot of rejection letters--because they come off as vaguely arrogant and backhanded, but that's really beside the point. (Actually, it really isn't beside the point, I suppose: if it took them three years to read the blessed thing, I'm not STRONGLY CONFIDENT they could place it, either.)

No, the point is: I'm thankful for this letter. Really. And I'm not reproducing it here to ridicule the agency in question. Okay, that's a lie; I am reproducing it to poke a bit of fun at them. But that's not the only reason. Instead, I'm framing this letter and hanging it above the desk where I write, because it's a great reminder of two things:

1) I'm really no different from the guy who was trying to get published just three short years ago. I want to remember, every day, how fortunate I am to be doing what I'm doing.

2) Sometimes, rejection has very little to do with quality or potential. The agent who rejected this has been in the industry for a couple of decades, with several sales. He didn't think it would be published. And yet, it has been published--to good sales success and positive reviews.

So, to those of you who write, and who are slogging through rejection letters right now: take heart. Timing is, indeed, a part of the equation. Rejections only mean you haven't found the right person to work with yet, so keep going. It may take a while, but if your work is good, you'll find the right person.

It may even take three years.

Okay, so I was only able to attend about half of that keynote, as I was late coming from a previous event. But I always wished I had been present for the entire speech. Now, thanks to the folks at Alive Communications, the entire transcript of his speech is available online.

Peterson, who crafted the immensely popular "The Message" paraphrase of the Bible, has some interesting things to say about the Writing Life. Especially, I think, for writers who tackle issues of faith. His main admonition--to avoid "godtalk" in our writing--gets an enthusiastic "amen" from me. (Even though said "amen" is a bit of godtalk itself.)

Well worth your reading time.