This bit of news was making rounds today....

"One in four adults read no books at all in the past year, according to an Associated Press-Ipsos poll released Tuesday. Of those who did read, women and older people were most avid, and religious works and popular fiction were the top choices.

The survey reveals a nation whose book readers, on the whole, can hardly be called ravenous. The typical person claimed to have read four books in the last year — half read more and half read fewer. Excluding those who hadn't read any, the usual number read was seven."

If you read four books a year, which is one every three months, and assuming a book is 300 pages, that's 3.3 pages a day. How long does that take? Five minutes? People spend more time on their hair. Or on the toilet. Or talking about how little people read nowadays.

If you told someone they could only spend five minutes on their cellphone every day, they'd go berserk.

It’s amazing how I keep going back and forth on the various ideas I have for my next book. I have to admit, it was easier when I was simply trying to come up with another Blanco book, because that “universe” was already created. All I had to do was come up with the action.

Now I’m looking at a blank slate, and that’s liberating, but also intimidating. I have plenty of ideas, that’s not the problem. The problem is settling on one. I get excited about one, decide that it’s definitely the way to go, then completely change my mind by the end of the day. It’s happened with all of the ideas. I’m fickle.

People say you’re supposed to write what you want to write, without worrying if it will meet market demands. Just ignore what the market is doing. Yeah, good luck with that. How can you not notice that big thrillers are doing gangbusters right now, and have been doing well for several years, and they appear to be the trend for the next few years at least. Could I write a thriller? Yes. Is it what I WANT to write? Good question. I’d say it’s ONE of the things I’d like to write. Maybe not my top pick. When it comes down to it, I like to write humor. Sure, a thriller can have humor in it, but I’m talking about humor a la the Blanco books. I wouldn’t call them thrillers, nor can I think of any thriller written with that level of humor. In my mind, Evanovich and Hiaasen don’t write thrillers, unless you expand the definition to the point where it’s almost meaningless.

A wise people recently advised me to write with my heart, not my head. I think, instead, I’m going to write with my pancreas.

I haven’t been too active on this blog lately, mostly because I’ve been trying to figure out what to write next. I haven’t figured it out for sure yet, but I can share this with you: it’s going to be something outside of the Blanco County series.

Here’s the reality of the situation: Every author out there--at least, all the ones I know--want to reach as wide an audience as possible. I’m no different. I need to keep growing my audience, and sometimes the only way to do that is to try something new.

The Blanco books have been a blast to write, and maybe I’ll return to them someday. There’s no way to know for certain. But, like 95% of the books out there, they weren’t setting the world on fire in terms of sales. They did okay, I guess, but nothing to brag about. My publisher made an offer for the next one, but I decided it was time to move on.

So...what am I going to write? That’s the question, isn’t it? I’ve started three manuscripts--all of them wildly different--and I keep vacillating between them. They all have elements that I like, and I would enjoy writing any of them.

One thing you hear a lot on this business is that you should concentrate on writing a “big book.” Took me a while to figure out what that meant, but, in general, it means there is a lot at stake for everyone involved in the story, and it generally takes places on a large stage (geographically speaking), with a fairly broad cast of characters, usually in third-person voice. Sounds like Gun Shy, doesn’t it?

Regardless, I’m not necessarily sold on the idea that you have to write a big book to leap to the next level of sales. I see plenty of “small” stories that sell well every day. Then again, the thrillers that make the bestseller lists always seem to involve FBI and CIA agents, terrorists, spies, and the like. People are always hopping all over the globe and unlocking conspiracies.

On the other hand, when I think of some of my favorite authors--Hiaasen, Leonard, Robert Parker, etc--I don’t think of their stories as “big.” Some are bigger than others, but for the most part, I don’t think they qualify as big. Of course, they can write whatever they’d like at this point. They were groundbreaking in their work, and maybe that’s what set them apart.

It’s a tough business, and I appreciate every single one of my readers.

PS: All of the above will be moot if everyone reading this runs out and buys 20 copies of Gun Shy.

PPS: When I say “next” book, I’m talking about the one that will come out after Holy Moly, which IS a Blanco book and will be released next year.

Joe wrote an email asking:

“I've been meaning to ask you why you weren't included in the recent Austin Statesman story asking local authors to write their version of the last pages of the last Harry Potter book?”

Well, there are a lot of authors in Austin, and I’m sure they couldn’t ask us all. Which, really, is fortunate for me, because I haven’t read the Harry Potter books (although I did see one movie). I know, as an author, it’s appalling that I haven’t kept up with this phenomenon. However, that won’t stop me from taking a crack at an ending. Here goes.......

Harry knew it was time to leave Hogwarts behind, including that one girl he hung around with a lot, who was starting to fill out nicely, and that other guy with sandy-colored hair and sort of buck teeth. It was time to put his dreams of being the world’s best wizard behind and face adulthood. Maybe become a real-estate salesman or an insurance agent. No more spells or incantations or hexes.

He packed his things, including his broomstick, and that weird thing they used in that game, which was kind of like airborne lacrosse, where they try to throw or launch the weird thing into a goal or a net or something. Ah, such memories. And such interesting people. Like that evil guy who looked like the German dude from that Bruce Willis movie. And that other guy with the long beard. No, the other guy with the beard.

So Harry made the rounds and said goodbye, then hopped the first bus leaving from the magical depot. He took off his eyeglasses and went to sleep. (Frankly, it never made sense to him that he needed eyeglasses. Couldn’t he just have created some sort of mystical potion that gave him perfect vision? Same with the scar or birthmark or blemish on his face. Couldn’t he have made that disappear?)

When he woke up, the bus was just pulling into a small town. He had no idea where he was. He saw a lot of trucks, and a feed store, and a barbecue joint, and an old courthouse surrounded by green lawn. He exited the bus, grabbed his suitcase, and began walking down the street. Maybe he’d made a rash decision. He didn’t know anybody here, or have any job skills, or even any money. What was he to do?

Right then, an old rusty Ford truck pulled up beside him. The driver was sort of a skinny guy, with bad teeth and a John Deere cap on his head.

“You need a ride?” the driver asked.

Harry hesitated, then decided to trust the stranger. He hopped in.

“Name’s Red O’Brien,” the driver said, sticking out his hand.

Harry shook it. “I’m Harry.”

Three weeks later, Harry was arrested on charges of public intoxication, hunting without landowner consent, and discharge of a firearm from a public roadway.

When I was a kid, I used to stay up late on Fridays and watch Johnny Carson, then Tom Snyder. Completely different hosts, but groundbreakers, both of them. I was too young to “get” Tom Snyder all the time, but there was something about him I found intriguing. He seemed a little gruff, but, in hindsight, I don’t think he was. Just blunt, unafraid to ask just about anything.

If you’ve read my books--the last three, anyway--you noticed that I incorporated a pit bull. That’s because I owned one for 14 years. Best dog I ever had, though the mixed mutt we have now is giving her a run for her money. The pit bull, Esmerelda, loved people, and would attempt to slowly crawl into visitor’s laps. All seventy pounds of her. Makes me sick to think of all the dogs who could’ve been pets like Ezzy if Michael Vick and his scumbag friends hadn’t gotten ahold of them. I hope all of those jerks go to prison.

I read Pegasus Descending by James Lee Burke this week. Man, can that guy write. It’s amazing he doesn’t win the Edgar every year.

Bit of news: Remember, maybe eight months back, when I mentioned a short story I’d written? I promised to post it here if I didn’t sell it. Fortunately, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine bought it, and will publish it sometime next year. It’s called Mind Game, and it features a sheriff named Bobby in Blanco County. Go figure. It’s the first short story I’ve written, and it’s an honor to be included in AHMM.

Have you seen the movie Breach? Watched it a couple of weeks ago, and it was excellent. The more I think about it, the more I like it. What a complex and strange character that Robert Hansen is, brilliantly played by Chris Cooper.

I’ve been watching Mad Men on AMC, as you can guess, with my background in advertising. Excellent series so far. It’s set in the fifties, and the writers have a ball exposing how backward some of the thinking was back then...assuming it’s accurate. I’m sure women all across the nation are shouting in outrage at some of the sexism in the show. And people are smoking, all the time, in almost every scene--in offices, on trains, in restaurants, around kids, wherever.

Here’s what the Dallas Morning News had to say about Gun Shy in a recent review: “Austin writer Ben Rehder opens fire at both sides of the gun debate in this wickedly funny new Blanco County murder mystery novel featuring his franchise hero, game warden John Marlin. Marlin's investigation of a dead immigrant on a ranch helps trigger an embarrassing scandal for the world's most powerful lobbying organization, the National Weapons Alliance.”

Have a good weekend.