A man who never gave up on romance - Mario Saincic's Writing Blog

It's way after midnight and I am wide awake. It could be an old habit instilled in me since I started writing five years ago, the aftershock of my curry dinner, or merely a sense of uneasiness. Probably the latter. You see, I am querying agents again. Not the usual shopping list of men and women I have made use of before, but a more personal approach. Yes, I stalk them (kinda) to see whether I would be a good fit for whatever makes them tick, and each time I say a silent prayer and push the 'send' button, I once again offer a piece of myself to an unknown world knowing that I have edited and polished my covering letter and opening chapters based on the last comment from a person inundated with query requests. Yes, there are agents out there that respond. It is neither myth nor urban legend. But each time I get a response - some personal and others not, and decide to change my original story, it reminds me of the greatest deal  I could ever have received. I found my...

Killing people. Fictionally, of course. Following the successful murder mystery evening, I began a co-write with Natalie. She is my wife, in case you were wondering. Six weeks have gone by since that inspiring evening, and we are done. Yes - Done! A novel in six weeks! I still sit and wonder why the bloody hell I have gone from writing romance to urban fantasy, and then finally a Who Dunnit?  The answer I found is actually quite simple: Why the bloody hell not!

The mood was set. While displaying vodka jelly shots on a boob-shaped platter, I looked up at the noose hanging from above my head. Children playing outside stopped to stare through the window, whispering among themselves. I could almost read their minds: "They turned their lounge into gallows..." Smiling wryly, I was actually looking forward to curious glances once they had told their parents. In our circles, my wife and I were renowned for discussing the strangest of topics. Murder was a new dark alley we wanted to explore... Before anyone calls the cops or searches for Horatio Caine's cell number, we mean this in a literary sense. The guests arrived. Wide smiles dimmed and hands holding up wine bottles lowered when they took in the scene. Like a credit card ad catch-phrase, the expressions were priceless . Our murder mystery night had begun. Off with their heads!!