by Jeffrey Wilson
A couple of years ago, I had a couple of completed manuscripts and not a clue what to do next. I had a (sort of) agent and a contract for an eBook release and no knowledge or resources from which to evaluate the decisions I made. Shortly after, I joined HWA. A lot has happened since then that got me to a pending release of my current novel The Traiteur’s Ring, a contract for two additional novels to be released in 2012 and 2013 (all at professional rates) and a couple of short story sales to boot. Most of what happened is because of my affiliation with HWA.
Membership in HWA affords access to a mass of information that helps the novice and the seasoned writer learn about the markets, about how to successfully complete, edit, query, and market their work, and how to improve their writing. From the boards where you can interact with other writers, to the lists of publishing markets, book reviewers, and agents, to the resources for conflict resolution (all of which I have personally benefited from) the HWA offers something at every step of the process.
What HWA is really about to me, though, is a fellowship with other writers. I have made friends and colleagues that not only enriched my career, but enriched me personally. It is just as satisfying to help a fellow writer get a good review or promote their work on your website as it is to get the help you need. I have no doubt that my current success is in great part due to my affiliation with HWA.
Jeffrey Wilson has worked as an actor, a firefighter, a paramedic, a jet pilot, a diving instructor, a Naval Officer, and a Vascular and Trauma Surgeon. He also served two tours in Iraq as a combat surgeon with both the Marines and with a Joint Special Operations Task Force. He has written dozens of short stories, won a few fiction competitions, and participated in the National Endowment for the Arts “Operation Homecoming” collection. The Traiteur’s Ringis his first published novel. Jeff and his wife, Wendy, are Virginia natives who, with children Emma, Jack, and Connor, call Tampa, Florida home. When not working as a surgeon or chasing his three kids, Jeff is hard at work on his next novel.
TODAY’S GIVEAWAY:
Jeffrey Wilson is giving away one signed hardcover edition of The Traiteur’s Ring. Enter now by posting in the comments section below or e-mailing memoutreach@horror.org.
About The Traiteur’s Ring
A man who has spent his life defending his country discovers that fate has presented him with an even higher calling. Ben Morvant is not what you would call ordinary and as a Navy SEAL, he never expected an ordinary life. But when a routine mission to protect a local village in a war-torn region of Africa goes terribly wrong, Ben is presented with truths beyond what his military training and experience have prepared him to accept. With his dying breath, a village elder passes to Ben a gift—a simple ring, unremarkable except for its ever changing color and the feeling of power emanating from within.
Soon after accepting the ring dark visions begin to haunt Ben’s dreams. Images of pain and death, of evil and destruction. But some of the visions are hauntingly familiar. Soon Ben must return to his childhood home in Louisiana to face a dark secret from his past, one that may explain why he has the power to heal with a touch of the hand . . . or kill with a single thought. After discovering the truth about his family and himself, he comes to realize that he is a soldier in a greater battle than he could ever have imagined. And if he cannot find a way to wield the power concealed within him, the forces that prey on mankind’s anger and fear will destroy not only him, but everything he holds dear.
Excerpt from The Traiteur’s Ring
Ben jumped to his feet and moved swiftly into the clearing, his rifle up and aimed and sweeping back and forth as he moved, his shoulders hunched forward, just as he had done a hundred times. The good and bad guys would be easy to distinguish and he moved swiftly through the orange smoke as he heard the angry screams of the Al Qaeda fighters, the older men hollering orders no doubt to the panicky teenagers they led. Ben heard a few sporadic rifle shots as the enemy fired blindly into the jungle. Then he heard the more familiar crack of the SEAL’s M-4’s and screams, this time not from women or children.
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