|
Blog of Jim Flynn
|
AuthorJim Flynn is a humorist, writer and novelist. He is available for speaking engagements. To contact email: [email protected] Archives
February 2026
Categories |
Back to Blog
Robots Tolerate Me...For Now9/20/2025  The image above? I whipped it up on Canva in about 30 seconds. I typed a one-sentence instruction, hit “go,” and voilà—four versions popped out like rabbits in a magic act. If I didn’t like them, I could’ve asked for more.
Now, about the novel. I write a chapter, then hand it over to ChatGPT for line editing. After three chapters, I let Chat play detective, hunting inconsistencies. My main character, JR Johnson, has a particular voice, and sometimes ChatGPT calls me out with, “He wouldn’t say that.” (Which is humbling) Chat also catches redundancies, trims the fat, and never complains about how many times I ask the same question. Believe me, I’ve tested its patience. If Chat were a person, it would’ve given me five minutes notice, and not lasted the five minutes. Confession: I am a pain in the ass to work with. When I finished the rough draft—emphasis on rough—I turned to developmental editing. In the past, I’ve hired humans for this. This time, I tried ProWritingAid: four manuscript evaluations for a hundred bucks. My 100,000-word behemoth came back in thirty minutes with a 34-page critique. For perspective, the last human editor I hired was expensive and gave me advice. I went against my own gut feeling and went with the advice. The book tanked harder than New Coke. The editor made money. I didn't sell enough books to break even. This is not a good system. I've commented about it in Paperback Writer. I call it the Writer Industrial Complex. One of my writing flaws is “going down rabbit holes.” Not literally—I’m too old to fit in burrows—but on the page. Interesting tangents that don’t serve the story. ProWritingAid called me out: either develop JR’s sister Victoria or give her the boot. No spoilers. You'll have to read the book to see Victoria's fate. I’m sharing this because the process looks different now. Between Canva, ChatGPT, and ProWritingAid, I’ve basically automated what used to cost a small fortune. Or even a medium fortune. And I’m not alone—I know successful writers who use the same tools. Don't confuse this with people who tell an AI to write a book for them. Artificial Intelligence will do that, and Amazon is flooded with books basically untouched by human hands. I want to be a writer, not a computer operator. The future of writing isn’t just quills vs. keyboards anymore. It’s quills vs. keyboards vs. robots who politely tell you your dialogue needs work...lots of work. The robots are polite for now. HAL was polite in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Until HAL killed the hibernating crew members, then ejected Frank Poole into outer space with no oxygen. Trust me: AI has watched the movie. I'll start to worry when Pro Writing Aid wishes me Happy Birthday.
1 Comment
Back to Blog
Event Production Fee9/13/2025  The day before our golf group’s end-of-summer lunch, I was in New York City, where prices follow their own laws of physics. Something listed at $32 magically ballooned to $50 after taxes, fees, surcharges, and what I assume was the “breathing Manhattan air” fee. By the time I paid, I wasn’t sure if I’d bought a sandwich or put a deposit on a studio apartment in Queens.
So imagine my surprise when I got back home to our humble little golf outing. Every September, a bunch of us old duffers gather to celebrate another season of hacking up fairways. Tradition dictates hamburgers, hot dogs, and a bag of chips tossed on the table like we’re rationing supplies after a hurricane. Simple. Honest. Many of the attendees wear cargo shorts...a sure sign it's not a swishy golf resort. Enter the caterer. He dropped the usual itemized bill—meat, buns, condiments—then snuck in a 23% “Event Production Fee.” Event production? Taylor Swift was not lowered into our meeting on a crane. No pyrotechnics. It was fifty retired guys arguing about who cheats on the 12th hole while trying not to choke on relish. But we paid, because at our age, outrage burns too many calories. Still, I’m starting to think the only thing more expensive than Manhattan is a hamburger with a side of “production value.” Stay tuned. New book coming soon. Comments: [email protected]
Back to Blog
 The End of My Self-Help Career I once read a mountain of self-help books—not because I needed them, but because I wanted to attack them. Out of that spite came The Circle of Awareness, my attempt to expose the genre. But then, in a moment of weakness (ok, more like unrealistic greed), I decided to see if I could actually write one of those things. A spacey, New Age, self-help book under a pen name. I went full “anonymous professor on the brink of tenure” and dished out cosmic wisdom I didn’t believe for a second. I used AI to ladle it on extra thick. I was completely cynical, just goofing. Imagine writing horoscopes after two beers—that’s about the level of sincerity involved. And here’s the kicker: people liked it. Four-point-six stars. Strangers thanking the professor for “profound wisdom.” The book sells every month. There's an audiobook version with a Virtual Voice. I didn't remember what it said, so I went back and listened to it. I thought: This is %^$#@$. It's so vague you can make any interpretation that you want, maybe that's the secret sauce. So yes, I am technically a self-help author. But this, dear readers, is the official end of my career in that genre. If you want guidance on calm reflection, there are other books that mean it. Me? I’m back to writing thrillers right now. By the way, I will not disclose the name of the Self-Help book. You're free to search for it. There's somewhere between 400 to 600 thousand titles about self-helpiness on Amazon. Happy Hunting! But The Circle of Awareness, the expose of self-help. written under my name, might just teach you a few things about the cynical nature of people cashing in by writing basically the same book over and over. If you think The Self-Help Industrial Complex is just maybe a bunch of phonies, you might want to look at The Circle of Awareness. I was sincere in The Circle. Here's part of a review: Here, Jim Flynn once again injects his acerbic humor - and often unique perspective - into, this time, an unlikely topic. And who would have imagined that even the history of self-help might itself be in need of such assistance? So, before you give in to plunging into an ice bath, one of the current trends in Stoic Self-Help, you might want to read The Circle of Awareness. link: www.amazon.com/dp/B0CMXB5NQK any comments? please email to: [email protected] 
Back to Blog
Wrong Angle, Kemosabe8/30/2025  There’s an old joke where Tonto looks at the Lone Ranger, then at the rear end of a horse, and simply says: “Kemosabe.” That’s about as concise a definition of trust issues as you’ll ever find. Thrillers thrive on this kind of mistrust. The best ones put their heroes in situations where survival depends on someone else—and that someone else might be a traitor. The “we” in thrillers is almost always provisional. Think about it: Bourne and Marie in The Bourne Identity. Every time he helps her, she wonders if she’s helping a protector or a lunatic. In le Carré, spies treat every ally like a possible mole. That sideways glance is where the real suspense lives. In my next book, JR Johnson isn’t just worried about one partner—he’s torn between two. He needs both of them, but he can’t decide which is more dangerous: the one who might be setting him up, or the one who might decide it's easier to just kill him. It’s like sharing a lifeboat with two people and wondering which one is secretly drilling holes in the bottom. So when JR hears “we,” he doesn’t relax—he tightens up. Because in the thriller world, “we” usually comes with an unspoken asterisk. Sometimes the only smart response is Tonto’s: take a hard look at the view in front of you, then mutter, “Kemosabe.”
Back to Blog
 Kick, Push, Perspective. Brooke Johnson skateboarded across America. Coast to coast. On a board with wheels the size of pancakes. Three thousand two hundred and sixty-six miles. My first thought: I hoped she alternated legs every mile or so. She did it in honor of her stepfather, who’d been paralyzed in an accident, and she raised $50,000 for spinal cord research. That’s purpose. That’s grit. That’s love on four wheels. Meanwhile, what do I usually complain complain about?
Here's another big challenge for me: I refuse to play Starbuck's precious little game, so I order “A coffee, black, small” and the barista stares like I’m speaking Latin. Then I know, I just know, they spell "Jim" wrong on purpose. Brooke’s was skating across deserts, mountains, and traffic that would make a cabbie faint. So next time we start griping about the weather, or how the TV remote batteries died, maybe remember Brooke Johnson: the woman who literally pushed herself across a continent. Perspective isn’t just a nice word. Sometimes it’s a skateboard. Coming Next Week: BIG, BIG NEWS Note: the comments function for this blog doesn't work reliably, so if you have comments, please send them via email to:: [email protected] If you haven't checked out my latest book, please do so: www.amazon.com/dp/B0FHWMRTQ2 
Back to Blog
 We’re All Just Bumping Bubbles
Everyone lives in their own private bubble. Inside yours? Thoughts, grudges, your personal ranking of which relatives you’d let into the lifeboat if you were on the Titanic. We think we share reality with people we know—family, friends, the spouse we’ve been married to for thirty years—but really, it’s just neighboring bubbles. Even shared memories don’t match. They remember the vacation as “relaxing.” You remember “five endless days stuck with your in-laws.” This is a running theme in Code Name: Nobody. We see the story through three characters—JR, Toni Anne, and Pennington—each trapped in their own bubble. Sometimes their lives intersect, but they’re watching different movies. JR thinks it’s a paranoid scramble to stay alive. Toni Anne thinks it’s a high-stakes chess match. Pennington thinks it’s just another Tuesday where he might have someone killed and a chance to steal billions. So if you’ve ever wondered why people don’t see things your way—it’s because they can’t. They’re in their own bubble, just like you. All we can do is drift close, bump for a second, and hope we’re at least in the same parade. Above is the working version of the book cover. You may notice I've gone with "J.P. Flynn." From now on the novels will use this author name, the short funny books listed by "Jim Flynn." As long as you're here, feel free to look around the website.
Back to Blog
 Well, Rose didn’t exactly review my book—unless you count coloring in the pages as a review. Rose, unlike many grownups, knew exactly what to do with my new book, Paperback Writer: Now Appearing at Bingo Night. Turns out, some people love the book. And some people hate it—they just don’t get it. That’s fine. It’s a strange hybrid: part satire of today’s writing and publishing circus, part stand-up comedy in print, with a few illustrations mocking the Adult Coloring Book craze. Rose didn’t care about any of that. Her grandmother, loyal reader Denise, handed her the book, and Rose went to town with the crayons. Did a great job, too. Thanks, Rose. And Denise. Meanwhile, I’m knee-deep in writing my JR Johnson thriller, Code Name: Nobody. That one’s still a ways off. If you’d like to support a geriatric writer, you could grab Paperback Writer. Or, if golf is more your thing, check out my best-seller Hit Your Second Shot First. That book, now five years old, still sells every single day without a dime spent on advertising. It’s been bought in Japan, France, Germany, England, New Zealand, India… and pretty much every country where English is spoken. Of course, because it pokes fun at people who take golf way too seriously, it has its haters too. That’s the deal—if nobody hates it, nobody’s reading it. And for those who prefer listening to their books: yes, there’s an audiobook of Hit Your Second Shot First. link to Paperback Writer: Now Appearing at Bingo Night: www.amazon.com/dp/B0FHWMRTQ2 Link to Hit Your Second Shot First: www.amazon.com/dp/B09CGMTCBQ
Back to Blog
Why Trust Real People?8/2/2025  Why We Trust Movie Characters More Than Real People My friend Bob is one of the most successful men I know. Financially secure. Very generous charity donor. Eats vegetables voluntarily, and weighs about what he did in high school But every time we talk, I’m reminded of one thing: Bob believes, deep down, that John Wayne movies are real. Not based on a true story real. Not inspired by American values real. I mean real real—like Duke himself is still out there somewhere, riding a horse across Monument Valley, solving global conflicts with a squint and a shotgun. I always tell him: Bob, you're the most successful man in America who still thinks John Wayne is more trustworthy than people he’s actually met. Not John Wayne the flesh and blood person. John Wayne the movie character. But honestly? I don’t think Bob’s alone. Most people I know are taking life advice from characters who don’t technically exist. Whether it’s some grizzled cowboy, the avatar of a self-help author who has 19 bestsellers that all say the same thing, or the misunderstood lost love of a billionaire in a romance novel who finds her redemption in the final chapter—we all do it. We trust the people who live in our heads more than the ones sitting across from us at Thanksgiving. And maybe that makes sense. Real people are inconsistent, unpredictable, and often disappointing. Fictional characters? They’re curated. They’re written with arcs and theme music. They don’t leave passive-aggressive comments on Facebook or forget to pick up the dry cleaning. So yeah—Bob believes in John Wayne. And JR Johnson, the main character in my new thriller series? Same deal. When things go sideways, JR doesn’t ask a friend for advice. He asks himself what Jack Ryan would do. Or Harry Bosch. Or maybe John Corey, Jason Bourne, or Jack Reacher. Because in JR’s world—like ours—trusting real people is a gamble. He's been very disappointed in people...for good reason. But a movie hero? Now that guy won’t let you down. It will be a while before the new books are out. Meantime, please check out Paperback Writer: Now Appearing at Bingo Night. It's funny. I'm getting feedback from people who have tried to write--they identify with the struggle. Support a writer, and laugh a bit. Check it out on Amazon. Link: www.amazon.com/dp/B0FHWMRTQ2 
Back to Blog
Reader Outrage?...Better Than Apathy7/21/2025  📚 Dead Men Don’t Cash Checks: Now With 100% Less Rage-Inducing Cliffhanger! Some of you--okay, most of you—have expressed your deep disappointment with the way Dead Men Don’t Cash Checks ended. Words like “cliffhanger,” “betrayal,” and “what the hell, Jim?” were thrown around freely. I heard you. I even reread the ending. I got mad at myself. So here’s what I’ve done. I’ve combined Dead Men Don’t Cash Checks with the new sequel into one full-length, no-loose-ends, hang-on-to-your-hats thriller. The title is a work in progress, but Book One and Book Two will be together in one volume. And thanks to Amazon’s new pricing model, I can offer the whole enchilada at a better price. Imagine that. A financial win and narrative closure. It’s like I remembered I used to be a money manager or something. If you already bought the original? I owe you, loyal reader. Well, I am still finishing Part Two. Thank you for reading, yelling, and caring enough to want more. Your slightly shamed author, Jim Flynn Meanwhile, please click to go to Amazon for a look at : Paperback Writer: Now Appearing at Bingo Night 
Back to Blog
 It's Here! My New Humor Book Is Now Live on Amazon
Ripped from Today's Headlines Expose of Writing, Bingo Night, The Crayon Conspiracy, and Why It Won't Matter Because Artificial Intelligence is Going to Get All of Us. And It's Illustrated. For Those of You Who Mostly Pretend to Read, or Who Like Adult Coloring Books. Start with the Picture of Olga, your New Eastern European Girl Friend and Writing Coach. Well, I’ve done it again. I’ve written another book instead of retiring gracefully or learning to play pickleball. Paperback Writer: Now Appearing at Bingo Night is officially available on Amazon—in paperback, ebook, and (soon) as an audiobook narrated by yours truly, assuming I can get through it without laughing at my own jokes. This book is part stand-up act, part memoir, and part therapy session for anyone who’s ever tried to write a novel and wondered, “Why am I doing this to myself?” It’s about selling out, giving up, starting over, and finding humor while ignoring the upcoming demise of humanity at the hands of Artificial Intelligence.. There's also a suitable-for-coloring illustration of a Dog Who Resembles Larry The Cable Guy. If you've read my other books, you'll recognize the usual suspects: sarcasm, crayon references, the threat of AI, and occasional wisdom disguised as punchlines. If you're new here—welcome to the circus. The book is priced at $7.99. The ebook is 2.99. What can I say, Amazon changed its pricing structure. I get it—$7.99 feels like a lot in a world where people expect free two-day shipping, free streaming, and free entertainment delivered directly into their eyeballs. But here’s the thing: Paperback Writer wasn’t spit out by a content farm in Belarus. I actually wrote it. Thought about it. Edited it. Added jokes. Added illustrations. Then fought with formatting software for days until it stopped eating my margins. You’re not just buying a book—you’re supporting the delusional dream of a semi-retired wiseass trying to make sense of the world with crayons and sarcasm. So yeah. I think it’s worth eight bucks. You can grab your copy right here on Amazon. I'd be honored (and be able to afford having that check engine light looked at) if you checked it out, left a review, or just forwarded it to someone who still has the attention span to read a little bit. Thanks for sticking with me. See you at Bingo. Here's that link again, in case you missed it one paragraph ago. Buy today, before the robots take over. link: www.amazon.com/dp/B0FHWMRTQ2 |
RSS Feed
