Author Archives: Murderati Members

Selling or Selling Out?

Last week, the internet got itself into one of its all too frequent tizzies. You probably don’t remember, as by the time this one blew over there was another one already brewing up. Or several. Like the green-garbed supervillain outfit HYDRA in the old Nick Fury, Agent Of SHIELD comics. Cut off one head, many more will take its place. But this was one I got interested in. It was about the concept, and indeed practice, of selling out.

Now, selling out is something that’s been around as long as selling has. If not before. One of the earliest historical examples that I know of concerns Galileo. This is a very truncated form, as filtered through Bertolt Brecht’s version of events. As you probably know, Galileo worked out through his calculations that the world was in fact round not flat and that we orbited the sun, not the other way round. At the time the Catholic Church was running the show and he presented his findings to them. They objected, said it contravened what they were teaching. Contradicted their version of the word of God. If word got out about it they would lose their authority. Yes, argued Galileo, but the world is round and it orbits the sun. And that’s a fact. Fine, said the Catholic Church. You tell people that fact and we’ll have you killed. Okay, said Galileo. The world is flat and the sun orbits us.

Now, did Galileo sell out? Or did he take the prudent and sensible option in order to protect his own life? It’s easy to take a morally highhanded approach about this years later when your life’s not in any danger and say yes, he did sell out. But I like to think that he did what most of us would do presented with that situation. Compromise. Live.

Which brings us to the latest handbags episode on the internet. There was this: http://io9.com/5973921/how-to-write-fiction-for-money-without-selling-out-too-much

And then this: http://whatever.scalzi.com/2013/01/08/thoughts-on-selling-out/ If you don’t have the time or the inclination to read all that, let me paraphrase. A writer got annoyed by the fact that other writers were openly writing books to make money from them and gain readers. This, he saw, was a gross violation of what a writer was supposed to be doing. ‘What’s the point in writing,’ he said ‘if you don’t get to write whatever the fuck you feel like writing?’ Cue internet perfect storm.

This reminds me of a BA creative writing student in a university class I was teaching. I was chatting to them about writing, the craft of it, the art of it, the business of it, all that. One student, who clearly didn’t think I knew what I was talking about, piped up and told me I had everything wrong. That maybe what I was talking about was okay for me because I was writing crime fiction (Or possibly ‘just’ crime fiction. If he didn’t actually say that, that was his attitude.). He was going to be different. He was going to write what he wanted, when he felt inspired to do so. And publishers would be so grateful for him doing this they would offer him loads of money. He would then be a bestseller and get brilliant reviews. Yes, he said all this with a straight face, while sneering at my crime novels. I had two options – tell him the truth about what he had just said, or wish him the best of luck with his career. I wished him the best of luck with his career. This was a few years ago. At the time of writing this, the world hasn’t heard from him. Maybe he hasn’t been in a position to be inspired enough to be brilliant yet. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.

I thought of him when I read all the pieces about selling out. I think it’s a tired, tired old argument and I really have no time for it, or for the kind of writers who argue in its favour. I don’t care if they’re well known or obscure.

So let’s look at this. What actually is ‘selling out’? What does it constitute? Well, the naysayers would have you believe that selling out means prostituting your art in order to reach a wide audience. Or a wider audience. Or any audience, even. Diluting your talent just to sell books. Just? Just? What else are we supposed to be doing? Sorry if that comes across as blunt and to the point. But there you go. I can’t see the point in a writer toiling in obscurity, writing their heart out (sometimes literally – stress and chest pains are all part of the job) just to be ignored. Or not published. Or left unread. What’s all the pain been for if no one else will ever read it? And why should it be seen as diluting? It’s just accepting a challenge to do something differently. If you regard whatever talent you have as something so rigid and immobile it can’t be bent into different shapes or used to see other perspectives, then it’s not much of a talent, is it?

Ah yes, the artist writer would say, my work is pure because it is not commercial. Because it is not popular. And therefore it is better because of it. And my response would be, ‘Tell that to Charles Dickens’. As everyone knows, Dickens wasn’t just hugely popular in his day, he was also regarded – and still is – as a literary giant. Popularity and literature are not mutually exclusive things.

Want a (slightly) more recent example? Or several? Jim Thompson. David Goodis. Charles Willeford. These men all wrote for money and they wrote fast. They didn’t deny it, didn’t try to hide the fact. They worked in the paperback original market, the most commercial of commercial part of publishing. They didn’t apologise for it, didn’t make excuses about it. But they turned out some of the most extraordinary fiction of the Twentieth Century while they were doing this. Not every time, admittedly, but then neither does Jonathan Franzen. I’m sure you can find examples of your own to use.

Did any of these writers compromise in order to be published? Probably. Did any of them say the world was flat when they knew it was round? No. I don’t think so. They did what the best writers always do. They communicate shared truths about the human condition from writer to reader. They just happen to do it in the guise of hardboiled novels of suspense. Could they be considered sell outs? Only by the more precious. What they actually did, was sell. And in huge quantities.

Now having said all this, I’m sure you can tell which side of the line I come down on. Because seriously, I don’t know what all the fuss is about. But then I know why I write. Or most of the reasons.

I write crime fiction, for the most part. I write thrillers and mystery. Do I think I’m selling out if I want to sell? No. I know the market I’m working in. I’m not naïve or under any illusions. I write the kind of books that I hope people want to read. Should that mean I’m writing the kind of books I don’t want to write? Of course not. Why should the two things be mutually exclusive?

I accept the genre conventions. I know that they’re there for a reason. There has to be a beginning, a middle and an end. And the end has to satisfy. The murder – if there is one – has to be solved. The reader has to feel like they haven’t wasted their time. Like Chekov’s gun – if it’s there in the first act it’s got to be fired by the third. I know all this. I knew it when I made the contract. And not just with the publisher but with the reader too.

But, and here’s the bit the artist writers have trouble with, am I compromising what I want to write? I don’t think so. I’m telling the stories I want to tell in the way I want to tell them. At the same time I’m accepting market conventions because I want the books to sell. It’s still me writing them. It’s still me in them. My heart, my head, my life. I still want to write about the truth of the human condition. I just want to entertain people with a crime story at the same time. I think this is something we all do and accept, irrespective of what line of work we’re in. You could make the most brilliant computer the world has ever seen. But if you’re such a purist you refuse to make a keyboard to go with it you may as well not have bothered.

I want my work to be read. There, I’ve said it. And if they’re honest, so does every other writer who has ever written or ever will write. Unless there’s something wrong with them. My friend, the brilliant Christa Faust, summed the whole thing up perfectly on Twitter last week: ‘As a proud pulp hack, I don’t get the whole selling out thing. Why shouldn’t I use my skills to make a living?’

Why indeed?

And then she aced it with this: ‘It’s easy to make high falutin’ “art” when mom still does your laundry. The rest of us need to pay our own bills.’

Perfect. I’m sure even Galileo would agree.

STIRRINGS…

By Stephen Jay Schwartz

Oh, I’m up. It’s my turn again. Blog Time.

Blog Time ain’t exactly Miller Time, you know, where the point of the thing is to kick back and relax, raise the beer to the lips and press “play” on the remote. No, Blog Time requires effort. It requires that I have some kind of opinion on some matter of the day that means something to someone, including me.

Maybe I’ve said everything I have to say. Did you ever consider that?

No, that’s ridiculous. I’ll never have said everything I need to say. Although there’s still a chance I could make that move to Tibet, don the orange jumpsuit and meditate my way to Nirvana. And if there ever comes a time when you don’t hear from me, that’s a good place to look. It sounds oddly comforting – no Facebook, no outward communication, no blogs. I remember studying Japanese literature and religion in college and I was struck by one faction’s belief that the only purpose to life was to meditate oneself to a higher plane. Something like that – I mean, really, do not quote me on this stuff. But part of the discussion was that the poet or the artist should remain silent, too, because to engage in writing poetry or doing one’s art is an act of selfishness that ties one to the flesh. That is, it is a projection of self into the world. Why write poetry or anything if not for the satisfaction it brings us when others read our words? So, it comes back to self, ultimately. I’m sure David Corbett will have something to say about this – in fact, I invite him to jump in now and finish my education on the subject. Because, as we know, a little education is a dangerous thing – and I’ve only had a little education here.

Still, the concept strikes me as truthful, the concept that the writing is meant to fulfill a sense of self-satisfaction. Not that that’s a bad thing – do it if it makes you feel good. But so much of the time I see people writing in an effort to get “successful” or “famous” or to finally “get respect” from others. And, I admit, that’s been a big motivator for me, through the years.

But all along there’s been that nagging thought, that voice from my Japanese Literature and Religion class saying that the purpose of life is to focus on elevating our connection to the universe through meditation, and that even the act of writing is something that distracts us from this goal. It kind of freaks me out, that this should resonate with me. Because I don’t want to stop writing. I’ve always felt that writing is at the core of me. It’s my essence. So, why do I entertain this notion that writing is a masturbatory process? Was I just in a really susceptible place when I took that class? Corbett, help me out here.

My relationship to writing has changed over the years. I sacrificed everything so that I could produce writing that would get me that recognition, that “respect.” Is it worth it? Was it worth it? Yes, for me, in my experience, it was. However, I’ve had to do some repair work in its wake – I’ve made a point of spending more time with the family I ignored while I wrote those books and screenplays. I left the day job and spent a year writing at home so I could really be with them. But dwindling finances required a return to the work-force, which put me in the tough spot of having to prioritize my time again, which in the past has meant that the family gets the short end of the stick. And now I’m not willing to drop those precious relationships back to the third-tier, behind the day job and writing.

I no longer need to prove anything to myself. I no longer need to win an Academy Award, or to have the most successful book series in publication. These things would be nice, but I no longer live for them.

Instead, I’ve grown to appreciate this ability to express my views in writing for its own sake. The ability tell a story. This, in itself, is a prize. And I know that I can tell a story when the time for telling stories presents itself. I’ve discovered, in the process, that I’m a different kind of writer. I’m not a one or two book a year guy. I think my agent discovered this long before I did.

I think of all the experiences in life I’ve missed by sitting at a desk writing about the experience of life.

I wonder if it’s in me to sit silent and watch the world move about without the narration of my words. Maybe, someday. But I doubt it. I think I’m the guy who steps back and observes, then jumps in and produces, then steps back and observes. I’ve always been a sprinter, not a long-distance runner.

It’s nice to know the mountain is there. For the day I have nothing to say.

Which isn’t today.

See, I found something to blog about.

With All Undue Respect

Zoë Sharp

“From what I’ve seen of you, Zoë, you treat people with a respect you somehow do not expect to receive yourself.”

This was said to me a month or so ago by someone I’ve known for a long time, if not closely. I had no idea he’d observed me well enough to form such an opinion one way or another.

My first instinct was denial. Or not quite denial but certainly qualification. Respect is not something that can be expected—not in the present world.

It has to be worked for, earned.

And once you have it, you can’t simply hang it above the fireplace like a dusty stag’s head trophy and expect admiration from all comers. It has to be carefully maintained or the moths will turn it into little more than a memory.

“I’m not concerned with your liking or disliking of me … All I ask is that you respect me as a human being.”―Jackie Robinson

Respect is a living entity, always shifting, always in motion—much like the stag before someone shot and stuffed it.

One false move, and it’s gone.

I respect someone who has a no-nonsense competence without allowing their ego to enter the equation. It should be possible to be good at what you do without making yourself thoroughly unpleasant in the process.

But it seems to me that modern society will break down not because of some great catastrophe, but because of a series of tiny personal injustices. How many times recently have you experienced the following?

~Watched someone pick up a piece of litter they did not drop?

~Been let out into traffic by someone who had to inconvenience themselves to do so, rather than because they had to stop anyway?

~Been thanked by someone you’ve let out into traffic when you had to inconvenience yourself to do so, rather than because you had to stop anyway?

~Have a door held open?

~Had a car slow down to pass you walking along a wet road so you weren’t splashed?

~Been invited to go ahead by the person before you at the supermarket checkout because they’re shopping for a siege and you have only a few items?

These may seem like trivial examples—and indeed they are—but they are also the niceties of civilisation that make us human.

So, ’Rati, what petty injustices have you witnessed recently, or what random small acts of kindness?

Instead of a Word of the Week, this time round I have a selection of quotations on the subject of respect—or lack of it.

“You should respect each other and refrain from disputes; you should not, like water and oil, repel each other, but should, like milk and water, mingle together.”―Buddha

“They cannot take away our self-respect if we do not give it to them.”―Mohandas K. Gandhi

“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.”―Richard Bach

“Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.”―Malcom X

“If you have ten thousand regulations you destroy all respect for the law.”―Winston Churchill

“I get no respect. The way my luck is running, if I was a politician I would be honest.”―Rodney Dangerfield

“Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them.”―Marilyn Monroe

“When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t compare or compete, everybody will respect you.”―Lao Tzu

“I never make the mistake of arguing with people for whose opinions I have no respect.”―Edward Gibbon

“To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only the truth.”―Voltaire

“In order to acquire a growing and lasting respect in society, it is a good thing, if you possess great talent, to give, early in your youth, a very hard kick to the right shin of the society that you love. After that, be a snob.”―Salvador Dali

“I do respect people’s faith, but I don’t respect their manipulation of that faith in order to create fear and control.”―Javier Bardem

“Respect for ourselves guides our morals, respect for others guides our manners.”―Laurence Sterne

“I don’t have a lot of respect for talent. Talent is genetic. It’s what you do with it that counts.”―Martin Ritt

“I respect my limitations, but I don’t use them as an excuse.”―Stephen R. Donaldson

“If you are killed because you are a writer, that’s the maximum expression of respect, you know.”―Mario Vargas Llosa

‘“With the greatest respect,” I said. Always a nice phrase to use when you intend to speak without any.’―Charlie Fox

And on a slight note of BSP, <cough> this week saw the US publication of DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten.

“Zoë Sharp is one of the sharpest, coolest, and most intriguing writers I know. She delivers dramatic, action-packed novels with characters we really care about. And once again, in DIE EASY, Zoë Sharp is at the top of her game.”—New York Times best-seller, Harlan Coben

M is for Mensch: A Fond Farewell to Ed Kaufman

By David Corbett

Ed Kaufman, the elfin, indefatigable owner of M is for Mystery (and More …) Bookstore, passed away on December 20^th from complications resulting from kidney disease.

He was known by many of us in the writing biz—and cherished. You arrived in his store and felt like royalty. He not only actually read your books, he generously and knowledgeably expressed his enjoyment of them. He knew what you were up to and respected it. His encouragement crackled in his voice and in his eyes.

Ed Kaufman spoiled me. After my first acquaintance with him, I suspected—or more appropriately, I suppose, hoped—that his level of intelligence, energy, and personal fondness might propel me along like the current of a river throughout my career. If only. Men like Ed are rare. Which is why his passing hits so hard.

More than once he came at me like a buzzsaw: “Where’s the next book?!” For a slowboat writer like me, it was half pat on the back, half kick in the pants. But I knew he was saying it because he genuinely believed my books were worth reading, not just putting on the shelf.

He also offered me the chance to introduce and interview writers like Michael Connelly and Richard Price, two men I very much admire.

He was the quirky uncle with a steel-trap mind and the metabolism of a dervish. His smile engulfed you, and his handshake was always warm and strong. I’m sure he could be prickly and impossible and self-absorbed at times—like I’m one to talk—and his employees were no doubt more long-suffering than we might imagine. His manager, Pam Stirling, remains one of the people in the book business whose warmth and appreciation remain among my fondest memories as a writer, and the other members of his staff, Jen and Ann and Warn and Charlotte, were always so welcoming and kind.

He closed the bookstore in December, 2011, and it felt like someone had dropped a nuclear bomb in the business. You can imagine what his death feels like.

There were two lovely obits online, one in the San Francisco Chronicle, the other in the The Daily Journal, and they flesh out his prior years—his growing up in Ohio, his service in the military as a plainclothes Counter Intelligence Corps officer, the chance to serve as clerk to US Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart that Ed turned down because he needed to make more money for his family, his longtime work as a lawyer in Los Angeles, his passion for art and opera—and his marriage to Jeannie, whom most of us got to know as well: She was the lovely, witty, wise-cracking counterpoint to Ed’s almost boyish enthusiasms.

In 2012 the Mystery Writers of America bestowed on Ed the Raven Award for outstanding achievement in the mystery field outside the realm of creative writing. But awards only say so much. Here are some words from other writers to give you an idea of what he meant to us all:

I am so very sad. I loved Ed, loved his drive, his manners, his charm and energy. He built a great business and you could see he just loved it when an author grew almost right in front of him. I was so nervous on my first visit there, with my first book, that I almost passed out. And a few years later, after a packed event during which I signed about 85 books, he put a few hundred more books in front of me to sign and date — and I almost passed out again, this time with shock! But it was always nothing but a pleasure to do anything for him, because he was a wonderful supporter of authors and of the mystery. That sparkle of passion was always there, even if he seemed weary the last time I saw him. —Jacqueline Winspear

Here’s my favorite Ed story: I was once in M is for Mystery talking to Ed and I saw a copy of The Kite Runner on the front table. I looked at him and said, “Really Ed? The Kite Runner in a mystery store?” And he kind of grumbled and said, “There’s a kidnapping in it. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, if someone in the story gets a parking ticket, it’s a crime novel.” —Mark Haskell Smith

What a champion he was of first-time authors, and how loyal. I remember how supportive he was so early on and how it never wavered. Then, as recently as August, he called me at home out of the blue to congratulate me on a review. Whenever I saw him we talked about his love of opera. When he spoke of it, his face just lit up from within. —Megan Abbott

I always looked forward to visiting Ed Kaufman. He was a kind, enthusiastic, cultured man, with a love not only for the contents of books but for the artifact of the book itself. A generation of great booksellers is passing, and we will not see their likes again. —John Connolly

Ed Kaufman was a gentleman of the old school, unfailing in his support of authors at all stages of their careers. I treasure the memories of events I was honoured to participate in at M is For Mystery. He made me feel so welcome, and did so much to help bring my work to American readers. I shall always remember him with gratitude and great joy. —Zoë Sharp

I met Ed when I was in law school in the bay area, well before I ever realized my books would be among those in his store. He was my friend, and I will miss his big hugs and sweet laughs. —Alafair Burke

I had the tremendous honor of presenting a Raven Award to Ed in 2012. I have always thought of him as “The Mensch of Mystery,” and it was awfully nice to be able to honor him in return for his having hosted my very first signing at M is for Mystery. What a lovely, lovely man. —Cornelia Read

Ed was my hometown bookseller and a broke-the-mold guy. One of my highlights every year on tour was seeing him at the store. Because I’m from the Bay Area, he got to know my family and friends over the years and always remembered them and had a good word — and a book recommendation or two — for them. I miss him. —Gregg Hurwitz

Ed was such a gentleman, but always with that little twinkle in his eyes. He made me feel welcome, and special, and I’m sure he did the same for readers as well as authors. Most of all, you could feel his passion for books. —Deborah Crombie

I thought Ed treated me as a friend because he was an ex-New Yorker and a reader of The Wall Street Journal. Then I learned he treated everyone with warmth and friendship. He was a sweet man who was a joy to visit and a tireless advocate for authors whose work he admired. I miss him and am so glad we met. —Jim Fusilli

Ed was a leprechaun of a bookseller; kind and mischievous, delighted by literary finds both bound and unbound (in the form of the visiting authors), he regarded books and writers as gold to be treasured, promoted and championed. Ed and the staff at M is for Mystery—Pam Stirling, the manager, Ann, Charlotte, Jen—were like a family to me. I’ll miss him—and the wonderful Xanadu they built together–forever. —Kelli Stanley

Ed was a superb lawyer, an extraordinary bookseller, a wise counselor and a supportive friend. He will be greatly missed. —Sheldon Siegel

When I interviewed Ed K last year to write something up for the Edgar Awards program – he was awarded the prestigious and well-deserved Raven – I met him for coffee which turned into Ed taking me to lunch, yes that was Ed, but in all the years I knew him I realized I didn’t know where his love of books came from. So I asked him. ‘Years ago when I was a young lawyer I travelled all the time. Always on the road, my family at home. But I discovered bookstores. From then on I was never without a book under my arm – airports, waiting rooms, hotels, conference breaks in law offices. A book was always my companion. Then as now you won’t find me without a book under my arm.’ That’s how I always remember Ed, holding a book. —Cara Black

When my first book came out I got a phone call from Ed, inviting me to sign at his store. I was new and completely unknown and felt so honored that he’d asked me. Never mind that only a couple of people showed up. Ed has been a dear friend ever since and even ordered me to bring my Celtic harp to play once. If you know how shy I am about playing instruments in public you’ll know in what high regard I held him. His passing has left a hole in my heart. —Rhys Bowen

Ed made new writers feel incredibly valued, cherished. I’ll always cherish him for that! —Pari Noskin Taichert

When my first book came out, Ed read my industry reviews and then took the initiative to contact my publisher and request to host my book launch (shown here).

I remember how he toured me, my husband, and our pug around his shop. My stage fright soon melted away in the warmth of Ed’s welcome. He made this first book event so special for me. He even taught me how to sign my books. Such a mensch! Ed loved literature and was a true champion of authors. He had a keen intellect and a big heart. I’m sure that everyone who knew Ed was all the better for it — and Ed knew a lot of people! —Cynthia Robinson

What I remember most is Ed’s infectious passion for mystery writers and anyone who shared his passion. Ed made me feel like I’d finally found my clan. I think that’s why the local chapter of MWA always held their Christmas party there. Being in that store and standing among those bookshelves, seeing your name on the spines of some of the books and listening to Ed’s stories, that was as big a thrill as getting published for the first time. He made a small bookstore in a small town a destination, because Ed was the destination.

Ed was also a great connector. He called me several times, sometimes at the last minute, to guest-host a number of author events, either at the store or occasionally at the local library. Usually they were authors I knew, but sometimes he just had an instinct an event would work if he threw certain authors together, and he was always right. I made some great friends at those events because Ed had a matchmaker’s eye for people with shared passions. He was a great soul, and whatever bookshelf he gets in heaven, I hope it stretches as far as his reach did on Earth. He’s the kind of guy we should all write stories about. —Tim Maleeny

As a final note: I posted the following on my website in 2007 when the publication of my third novel coincided with Ed’s birthday:

I and a number of other northern California mystery writers—including Rhys Bowen, Ann Parker, Camille Minichino, Nadia Gordon, Tony Broadbent, Tim Maleeny, Kirk Russell, and Dylan Schaffer—threw a surprise birthday party on Friday evening, March 23rd, for Ed Kaufman, the owner of M is for Mystery in San Mateo, one of the premier crime and mystery bookstores in the country.

The evening was billed as a reading for my new novel, Blood of Paradise, but when Ed and I booked the date, he let it slip that it was his birthday, and the scheming began.

Ed’s wife Jeannie, store manager Pam Stirling, and the rest of the M is for Mystery staff were in on the caper, and even though Ann and Camille, with all the best intentions in the world, almost blew the surprise by walking in a bit early with balloons, Ed didn’t catch on until the cake appeared. (Though he did, in introducing me, express a little surprise that so many folks had turned out for my event—hmm.) Cara Black and Steve Hockensmith, unable to attend because of other obligations, nonetheless sent congratulations from afar, and a grand time was had by all (even Tilly and Morgan, the canine celebrants). The inscription on the cake read, “M is for Mensch,” and truer words were never written—certainly not with icing. Many happy returns, Ed!

As it turned out, there were only five more happy returns. Far too few.

You’re missed, Mr. K. More than even a bunch of writers can say.

* * * * *

If you have any words or a recollection of Ed you’d like to share, please feel free.

* * * * *

Jukebox Hero of the Week: In honor of Ed’s abiding love of opera, here’s Angela Gheorghiu in a live performance of Puccini’s “Vissi d’arte,” from Tosca. (Yes, it’s a crime story—she sings this aria right before murdering the villain, Scarpia):

Bonus Track: Ed’s wife, Jeannie, when we emailed back and forth about possible arias, said, “just about any aria from Puccini’s ‘La Boheme’ — such as ‘Che gelida la manina’ (“…how cold is your little hand…” he flirts) and Pavarotti never disappoints. And neither does Puccini.”

When I told her I was thinking of Puccini’s “Vissi d’arte,” she responded, “Oh, Vissi d’arte even better! Of course — I lived for art, etc. etc. How silly of me not to think of that! (though Ed loved the schmaltz of the Boheme youthful flirtation).”

So, in honor of Ed’s love of schmaltzy youthful flirtation — as well as crime:

Sarah Pinborough

By Tania Carver

Sarah Pinborough is, i think, one of the brightest stars in the British crime and horror writing firmaments. In the last few years she has come to prominence in the predominantly male arena of horror fiction. Not content with that, she moved over to crime fiction. She’s also written YA novels, fairy stories, historical fiction and for film and TV. If you’re on Twitter or Facebook you’ve probably come across her, likewise if you frequent the bars of West London. She is, for my money, one of the most exciting voices in fiction at the moment. Here’s Sarah!

Me: You came to crime fiction with The God Faced Dogs trilogy after a very successful career as a horror novelist. Did you notice much of a difference, either from inside (the community) or outside (how you were perceived)?

Sarah: It was a big change for me on many levels, not just the shift in genre. My first six books were straight horror novels, but they were mass-market paperbacks in the USA and never published in the UK, so when I signed the trilogy deal with Gollancz it was my first UK deal, and was a much bigger deal than I’d had before. And although I wouldn’t have got that deal without the first books (I was up for a best novel British Fantasy award for The Taken and that led to meetings and pitching to Jo Fletcher at Gollancz) I still consider signing that deal as the start of my career ‘proper’ as it were. Because of that it’s hard to judge a change in perception from people. To my American readership they probably thought I’d dropped off the side of a cliff rather than taken a step up! I’m very pleased that Ace (Penguin) in the USA have picked up the trilogy so I’ll be published there again.

Me: The God Faced Dogs trilogy overlapped the two genres. We’re always constantly told not to do that but you got away with it and quite spectacularly. How did you manage that?

Sarah: Although people say it straddles crime and horror, I consider it more of a crime/Sci-Fi cross really, although the first book of the three probably seems more dark urban fantasy (How many genres can I try and fill??;-)) so I can see how it gets the horror tag.

Before starting it, I had reached a stage where I was bored and restless writing straight horror, and I did – what was on reflection quite a stupid thing – and quit my job to concentrate on writing a story that challenged me. I realised that I read far more crime and thriller novels than horror and had been thinking of trying my hand at something more mainstream for a while. I’d read Michael Marshall’s The Intruders and while talking to him – probably in a bar – he mentioned John Connolly’s Charlie Parker books to me. I hunted them down and was blown away by Every Dead Thing. I loved the richness of the writing and storytelling and realised that if he and Michael Marshall were writing thrillers with a touch of weird in them, then there was a market for it, other than just in my own head. Thankfully, I sold the trilogy before I’d written it and therefore didn’t end up living in a gutter after packing in teaching.

Sarah with John Connolly. She has nothing but respect for him.

Sarah with Michael Marshall. She has nothing but respect for him too, obviously.

I can see why crossing genres isn’t encouraged from a professional point of view though – I’ve found the three books of the trilogy in three different sections of one Waterstones once. Quite frustrating. But, you know how it is, you have to write the stories that come to you, and the more I settle into my career, the more I’ve come to realise that the ideas I have tend to straddle genres. I seem incapable of shaking off the weird.

Me: I genuinely have trouble keeping up with you. You’re probably the most hard working and prolific author around. Yet you still have time for a full social media presence. How do you do it all?

Sarah: Ha! I hear this about me quite a lot, although I’m not sure how true it is. I’m sure there are a lot of writers out there more prolific than me. If I’m honest, I would like to have more time on each project – but I’m also very aware that the market is tough for writers at the moment, and the sentence that rings in my head is always, ‘Getting published isn’t the difficult bit – staying published is.’ If you’re a mid-lister and not riding the top tens frequently then you just can’t relax. Not that relaxing comes that easily to me anyway, and even when I sort some free time out for myself, I inevitably end up working. I’m terrified of running out of time. It’s the same for all writers. Too many stories itching in our heads.

Plus, I can spend money like water so I have to work hard! As for the social media presence, I live alone and work alone, so I have more time for Twitter and Facebook, and on days when I’m not out and about, especially before I moved to London, they were easy social interaction for the day. BUT, they can be a time suck. I have Freedom on my Macbook that cuts me off from the Internet for set periods of time when I need to get some words down without distractions.

Me: You recently wrote an episode of TV cop show New Tricks as well as acting in and directing a couple of short films. (You see what I mean about prolific?) Any more TV and/or film work coming up?

Sarah: I didn’t direct the short films, that was my friend Abigail Blackmore (@snaxhanso), and the ‘acting’ as you very kindly call it, was all improvisation on the spot and under the influence of wine so didn’t require any effort from me, but were fun to do.

Here’s a still from the film, She’s Behind You. Don’t take it too seriously.

As for TV and Film – I’ve got another draft of my horror film ‘Cracked’ to do this month with the director Peter Medak (The Changeling, The Krays, The Ruling Class, Breaking Bad and many more) which is slated to go into production at the end of this year, but we all know how these things can fall apart! I’ve got another film, ‘Red Summer’ under option, and I’ve got a 3-parter TV Crime pitch ‘Fallow Ground’ optioned by World Productions that’s doing the rounds, and a couple of other pitches to put together when I’ve got some time. But TV

Me: You see what I mean about prolific? How did you get into writing? Because it wasn’t what you’ve always done . . .

Sarah: I’ve done a lot of different things over the years, but I’d always written, right from a very young age – I wrote plays for school and 40 pages of a (terrible) novel when I was about fourteen, but I didn’t seriously think about writing professionally until I was about thirty. I wrote some short stories in my late-twenties that friends etc seemed to like and then one day, when I was about 29, I found three pages of an opening I’d written a year or so before, and suddenly I saw where it could go. It became my first novel, ‘The Hidden’ (which Cracked is based on). I’d been to America when writing it and bought some Leisure horror novels at the airport to read on the plane home and when I’d finished it, I sent it to them and they bought it. I was doing my teacher training at the time and my first 6 novels were published during my teaching career – one out every nine months. Although they had great distribution the money was terrible, and it was only when I was asked to write a Torchwood book (I ended up doing two) that I had a little pocket of cash and could quit my job and concentrate.

Me: Mayhem is your next book, and another departure for you. What can you tell us about that?

Sarah: I’m quite excited about Mayhem although it’s probably the book I’m most insecure about as it was such a challenge. Again it crosses genres, as it’s historical crime, but there is a touch of weird thrown in. I’d read Dan Simmons The Terror and loved the way he’d used real historical events and built a fictional story around them, and it inspired me to try it. I’ve used the Thames Torso murders which were occurring at the same time as (and beyond) the Jack the Ripper killings, and like the Ripper cases, were never solved. My central character is Dr Thomas Bond who worked on both cases, and a lot of my main characters are real people, and although I’ve had to take liberties with personal lives for the sake of the story, I’ve stuck to the factual events for my framework. It’s a really rich period of time for crime and all these people had such interesting or damaged lives (Bond killed himself in the end) that there is a lot to play with.

It was also real challenge because normally in a thriller or crime novel your main concerns are your plotting and making it as tight as possible – with this I had all the historical stuff to worry about as well. It’s also structured quite differently to my normal books – it goes backward and forward, and has both first person and third person narratives. I’m really pleased with it, and I hope people like it. Plus, they’ve given me an awesome cover!

I’m about to start work on the follow-up, Murder.

Me: Branching out yet again, what’s this I hear about you and fairy stories?

Sarah: The fairy tales have been a really interesting project and one that I’ve enjoyed far more than I expected to. Gollancz came to me and asked if I’d be interested in doing three short novels re-working traditional stories, and being me and never liking to say no, I said yes. I was a bit flummoxed how I was going to do it at first, and then I had that moment of revelation and the whole thing slotted into place in my head. Poison, Charm and Beauty are all out next year – I’m just finishing the last one now – and although fairy tales seem to be everywhere at the moment, I really don’t think – touch wood – anyone’s done them quite like I have. They’re quite twisted and dark in places, but they’re also sexy and fun – which was a departure for me!

I’ve also written them so that although they are all interlinked, you can start with any one of them and the rest of the story won’t be ruined. I guess it’s a circular story – you’ll just have a different perspective of the characters depending on which one you start with. They’re not female exclusive, but it is the first writing I’ve done with a female audience in mind and that’s been good for me.

Me: And YA books too?

Sarah: The YA are on hold at the moment, although The Death House, which I’ll be writing for Gollancz, starting after Murder (I’m confusing myself!) I’m hoping will cross over between a teen and adult market. It’s a book that needs to be handled sensitively though and I may go away and hole up somewhere to write it. You can see what it’s about here.

Me: It could be said, uncharitably, that for a horror writer you’re woefully uneducated in classic horror films. What can be done about that, do you think?

Sarah: Ha ha ha! I need more horror movie nights with friends! Although ever since I said I found The Wicker Man (the original) comical, I think I’ve been disowned by the whole horror community.

(In the interests of full disclosure, I should say we now get together for film nights with Sarah raiding my collection of old Hammer DVDs.)

Me: And finally . . . the future. In a year’s time where do you think you’ll be and what will you be working on?

Sarah: Gosh, well like all of us, I would like to still be working and climbing the ladder, but who knows? My book future is pretty much planned out for the next couple of years (I’ve got 5 books out this year and I owe four more full-length novels which I want to give some time to) and a lot depends on how the TV and film stuff goes. TV is very demanding time-wise and also very collaborative so you can’t just jet off anywhere because there are A LOT of meetings. I’m tempted to spend a few months in LA as I have friends there, but if I’m honest, by this time next year I’d like to have met a man to fall in love with and maybe even..*shuddersslightly* settle down. I have to give it a go some day. I put far too much focus on my work and not enough on my life. Oh, and I’d like to have a cat.

Thank you so much for taking the time to do that, Sarah. You can get back on to Twitter now.

And if you’ve never read her books – what are you waiting for? She’s brilliant. That’s OK, thank me later.

Fun with blenders

by Pari

Writers need to stay healthy, right? While some are able to determine their days and schedules, the whens of
getting up
getting to work
eating
exercising,
many, like me, work 8 – 5 gigs that have requirements out of our control like when we have to:
get up
get to work
eat in order to get up/get to work.

And the times we can exercise must somehow fit within those other external musts.

So, as part of my ever-increasing efforts to keep healthy, I decided to buy a good blender during the holiday season. I had heady images of making my own soy and almond milks, mixing extraordinary concoctions that would burn fat, give me energy and take off 20 years from my wonderful — but older — body.

I didn’t want a juicer because I feel like the fiber in foods is healthy for us and should be consumed, but I wanted a way to incorporate more fresh veggies into my life without having to eat more salads. (I bring large salads to work almost every day for my lunch.)

At first I looked at the Kitchen Ninja and VitaMix blenders. From the packaging, I got the impression that these machines — if purchased — would probably massage their owners after a hard day’s work and burp them after overeating at that Super Duper Tapas buffet. In addition to the off-putting price tags, I felt uncomfortable beginning a relationship with machines that promised so much.

Who wants to be disappointed?

With my 20 percent off coupon in hand, I walked the store’s aisle envisioning my life with each powerful tool. After too much consideration of too many choices, I decided to buy a five-speed (including “ice crusher”), dependable, plain old KitchenAid. Nothing fancy. A blender that would basically pulverize the food I wanted in the way I wanted it to be done.

Now I’m inventing odd recipes. Today’s breakfast was a concoction of frozen berries and cherries with fresh apple, cucumber, celery, avocado and chia seeds . . . and soy milk. Yeah, I know. It sounds weird and tasted a bit different than a chocolate milkshake, but I liked it. My kids even tried it, though they added sugar to the mix.

The main thing is my $85 purchase is, indeed, living up to its promise. And I’m pleased rather than remorseful with the purchase.

So today’s questions are:

Do you have any wonderfully healthy — and tasty — recipes for blended drinks or treats?
Do you have a kitchen appliance that you adore?

Rewriting – sequence and act bridges

by Alexandra Sokoloff

I don’t know what it is, but my family’s Christmas gatherings always seem to involve aliens in some way. Possibly stems from all those years we spent road-tripping on (the former) Route 66.

This year it was watching CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND (again).

I haven’t seen the film in a while and it turns out to be a great example of a concept I’m always trying to get across to this college film class I’m teaching: act and sequence transitions. To get across the idea of the Three-Act, Eight Sequence structure, I show them films to illustrate that accomplished filmmakers often use a recurring image or device to indicate the end of one sequence and the beginning of another (not always for every sequence, but VERY frequently for the transitions between the four acts).

Since my New Year is all about rewriting, two different projects, I wanted to talk about some examples today and hopefully get some from you all.

Some are very obvious, like:

– The still shots of wedding invitations that set up each act of FOUR WEDDINGS AND A FUNERAL

– The six stages of a con that set up the sequences of THE STING: The Set-Up, The Hook, The Take, The Wire, The Shut-Out and The Sting … and which are delineated by still paintings on title cards. (Yes, that’s just six – the first sequence is the incident that compels Hooker to want to do the long con to begin with, and the eighth is the wrap-up.)

– The old newsreel-style shots of the map of the globe with the superimposed plane flying and the red line marking the journey and the sequence transitions in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK.

Others are more subtle but easy to spot if you train yourself to look, like:

– The long overhead shots of Jamie Foxx’s cab cruising through the streets of L.A. between each sequence of COLLATERAL. (There are similar long shots of the spaceship Nostromo gliding silently through the vast emptiness of space that mark the sequence breaks in the first ALIEN)

– The shots of seasons (fall, winter, spring) and specific holiday decorations in the Great Hall that delineate the sequences and acts in HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER’S STONE.

– Another film I just love, THE PRINCESS BRIDE, cuts away from the main story of Westley and Buttercup to the framing story of the grandfather reading the book to his grandson at each sequence and act break – slyly demonstrating the power of cliffhangers.

– And in CLOSE ENCOUNTERS, after the climax of each sequence, there is a cut to a short scene of the team of scientists, led by a mouth-watering François Truffaut (just saying) racing to yet another spot on the globe to investigate another UFO sighting. These scenes appear every fifteen minutes like clockwork – not as blatant as still shots and title cards, but equally effective as the demarcation between sequences and acts.

Personally, I just love how these bridges, or markers, or transitions, or whatever you feel like calling them, create a symmetry and forward momentum to a story. It signals an audience that the story is moving into a different phase, and gives the audience a chance to take a breath and mentally prepare, even for a second, for the next stage of the journey.

I think it’s really useful to train yourself to look for how your favorite storytellers might be using these transitions, on screen and on the page. It will get you thinking about how you might use some kind of bridge scene yourself. It’s not that you HAVE to do it, not at all! But maybe there’s a hint of some perfect recurring transition scene already in your first draft that you can build on to create a whole series of transitions that will give your story that perfect symmetry and momentum. Something to think about!

In novels, one of the most obvious act bridges is dividing your book into Part I, Part II, and Part III. Sounds simplistic but it really works to give the reader a breath and a moment to reflect before starting a new action. Another common bridge is to write sequences from different characters’ points of view (my favorite example being Barbara Kingsolver’s POISONWOOD BIBLE.

So do you have any examples for me?

And Happy New Year to everyone! May all your writing dreams come true this year.

– Alex

The year in review

By PD Martin

Like many people I often feel reflective around this time of year and I thought today I’d use that feeling to think about my year (2012) of blogging here at Murderati. My highlights! I’ve included craft blogs for the writers plus some more general posts. Hope you enjoy the highlights show…

I opened 2012 up with a look at the health hazards of being a writer — and I think these apply no matter what year we’re in! Things like RSI, carpal tunnel syndrome, alcoholism, insomnia, stress, etc.

And if you’ve ever wondered whether being an author was more about talent or skill, check out my April 10 blog.

In May Aussie Kathryn Fox was my guest, and she talked about chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE)…an eye-opening blog!

One of my July blogs was about the rollercoaster effect of being a writer — the creative rollercoaster, the agent rollercoaster, etc.

September was a very important and personal blog — And Baby Makes Four. This blog talked about us going to Korea to pick up our new son.

Finally, I closed 2012 with a blog on the gun laws in Australia. It was in response to some of the discussions I was part of on Murderati and Facebook about the tragedy in Connecticut.

So they are my blog (and sometimes life) highlights of 2012. Obviously there were a lot of blogs (and milestones) in between, but I wanted to mention some of my favourites.

What are some of your highlights of the year? Blog or otherwise 🙂

DAMN YOU, STEPHEN JAY SCHWARTZ!

by Gar Anthony Haywood

Actually, that blog post title’s a little harsh, because all SJS did to deserve it was blog about New Year’s resolutions here before I could. Oh, well. How about the next best thing, i.e., a list of all the things I resolve to stop doing in 2013?

Because the key to being happy and successful, it seems to me, is not only a matter of developing a host of new, constructive behaviors, but putting an end to those things we habitually do to sabotage ourselves. For instance, I am promising here and now that I will try my damndest not to do the following things in 2013:

– Procrastinate

Putting things off that need doing is a sure-fire way to guarantee they’ll either get done poorly at the last minute, or won’t get done at all. In 2013, I’m going to take care of business now, not later, no matter how boring or inconvenient it may be to do so.

– Make excuses

There are no doubt several reasons your latest manuscript failed to sell, or the last six agents you queried turned you down, but using them as a rationale for not working harder is a recipe for disaster. Nike may have turned the expression “Just do it” into the punch line of many a joke, but as a philosophy, it’s sound as hell. Don’t obsess over why you can’t do something; just do the damn thing already.

– Work without a plan

Zoë touched on this subject last week, and it really struck a nerve with me. Creating a work schedule that you’re absolutely, positively committed to following has always sounded to me like a great way to make widgets, not write a book. We creative types need to be free from such conventions, right? To do our best work, we need to allow it to come naturally, not in accordance to some predefined set of parameters.

At least, that’s how I’ve been approaching my writing up to now, and the results would suggest it may be time to re-think things. Structure is not a four-letter word. Neither is discipline. Writing like a free spirit is okay if you’re a poet with no career ambitions whatsoever, but if you expect to make a decent living as a writer, attention must be paid to output. This year, I’m going to write as if my life depends on my making a daily page quota — because it just might.

– Devote more time to social networking than is necessary

Yes, I’ve made a lot of professional contacts and brought more than a few new readers into the fold via Facebook. But more than half my FB time of late is spent on highly entertaining nonsense, and that’s time I can’t afford to waste any more. In 2013, I’ll continue to have a strong and regular FB presence, because dropping off the site completely would run counter to contemporary laws of productive self-promotion, but anybody expecting to find me “liking” this or commenting on that thirty-five times a day is destined to be gravely disappointed.

– Renege on any of the above

Making promises is easy. Keeping promises is hard. Highly successful people do what they say they’re going to do, when they say they’re going to do it.

You guys are my witnesses. If any of you catches me making a liar of myself, please don’t hesitate to call me on it.

Happy New Year!

The Wildcard Tuesday New Year Interrogation

Zoë Sharp

The first moon of 2013

Welcome to the first Wildcard Tuesday blog of 2013, and an enormously Happy New Year to you all. For this I asked a few lighthearted questions of fellow ‘Rati past and present, and below are their answers. I hope you find them worthy of a giggle.

(As a small aside, I started off searching for sensible author pix, but what I’ve actually ended up going for are the silliest pix that came up on the first page of a Google Images search on that author’s name.)

ALLISON BRENNAN

Where did you choose to celebrate the holiday season this year?

Home, as usual.

What would have been your ideal location?

Home! (Though, I would have liked to have gone to Disneyland right after Christmas … maybe next year!)

What was the best—or worst—gift you’ve ever received?

My husband once gave me an electric grout cleaner. Needless to say, I never used it.

The best—or worst—meal or item of food you’ve been served—or served to others?

The absolute best Christmas dinner we’ve had was when I decided to cook prime rib instead of the standard turkey or ham. It was pricey, but oh-so-delicious! I think that was back in 1997 …

What’s your idea of the Christmas From Hell?

Traveling for Christmas.

Looking back, what was your favourite moment from 2012?

Watching my oldest daughter graduate from high school—and hearing her and the Seraphim Choir sing the National Anthem. They were amazing.

I’m not going to ask about New Year’s resolutions, but do you have one ambition, large or small, you’d like to achieve in 2013?

Walk daily, meet my deadlines, don’t sweat the small stuff.

And finally, what book(s) have you brought out this year?

Two Lucy Kincaid books from Minotaur/SMP—SILENCED and STALKED; a short story in the anthology LOVE IS MURDER; an indie published novella MURDER IN THE RIVER CITY.

And what’s on the cards for the early part of 2013?

A Lucy Kincaid novella in March (RECKLESS), and two more book STOLEN and COLD SNAP. Plus a short story for the NINC anthology and maybe another indie novella. If I have time.

DAVID CORBETT

Where did you choose to celebrate the holiday season this year?

Home alone, if “choose” and “celebrate” are the correct verbs. Mette arrives on the 28th, so things should get merrier at that point.

What would have been your ideal location?

Buenos Aires. Ireland. A beach in Mexico.

What was the best—or worst—gift you’ve ever received?

Best gift I ever “received” was one I gave. As a gag gift I bought my late wife a red flannel union suit with a button seat flap that she absolutely loved. Slept in it all the time. Cozy as hell. Damn, she was happy.

The best—or worst—meal or item of food you’ve been served—or served to others?

When I was a kid one of my classmates’ families came over during the holidays and brought cookies that literally made me gag. I picked one up, sniffed it like a cocker spaniel, recoiled, and put it back. My brother started bellowing, “You touched it, you have to eat it.” Unfortunately, King Solomon (my father) agreed. I almost upchucked trying to get it down.

What’s your idea of the Christmas From Hell?

Oh, let’s not go there.

Looking back, what was your favourite moment from 2012?

A weekend in San Antonio for the wedding of one of Mette’s dearest friends, when I got introduced to the inner circle. Also, the moments when I read the cover quotes I received for THE ART OF CHARACTER. I was incredibly humbled and grateful so many writers I respect said so many kind and generous things.

One ambition, large or small, you’d like to achieve in 2013?

Make the new book a success, and wrap up the novel I’m working on to my own persnickety satisfaction.

And finally, what book(s) have you brought out this year?

Open Road Media and Mysterious Press re-issued all four of my novels in ebook format in 2012, with a brand new short story collection titled KILLING YOURSELF TO SURVIVE.

And what’s on the cards for the early part of 2013?

The new book, THE ART OF CHARACTER, comes out on January 29th, 2013 from Penguin.

ALEXANDRA SOKOLOFF

Where?

New Orleans.

Ideal location?

It’s hard to top New Orleans.

Best/worst gift?

Well, there’s this pretty spectacular amethyst necklace…

Best/worst food?

I’ve served many a bad meal to others. For everyone’s sake I stopped trying to cook long ago. Personally I don’t care much what food gets served, but I do remember one Christmas morning in London with blackberry jam on waffles and whisky for breakfast. The blackberry jam ended up all sorts of places and it was all very lovely. I could do that again.

Christmas From Hell?

It’s hard to narrow that down, actually. Endless scenarios spring to mind. I hate being cold, though, so winter is perilous.

Favourite moment from 2012?

For public consumption, you mean? The general reader response to HUNTRESS MOON has been a real high.

One ambition in 2013?

I’d like to find a really wonderful place to live.

Books this year?

My crime thriller HUNTRESS MOON, a boxed set of three of my supernatural thrillers called HAUNTED, a novella called D-GIRL ON DOOMSDAY in an interconnected anthology with three other dark fantasy female author friends: APOCALYPSE: YEAR ZERO. And I got several backlist titles back and put them out as e books at wonderfully affordable prices: THE UNSEEN, BOOK OF SHADOWS, THE HARROWING and THE PRICE.

And for 2013?

The next book in my Huntress series comes out in late January: BLOOD MOON. My next book in the paranormal Keepers series, KEEPER OF THE SHADOWS, comes out in May.

I’m selling my house in January and buying another as soon as possible, probably in California.

PD MARTIN

Where?

Every year we have Christmas Day at our home (in Melbourne) and then go down to the Mornington Peninsula (seaside) for most of January. It’s the hottest time of year here in Oz, so it’s great to be near the beach. We stay in a 1970s holiday house my grandparents bought in 1972, and given I spent summers down there as a kid it’s particularly special to now be going down there with my children.

Ideal location?

The Peninsula is pretty good 🙂 Although we’ve always said that one year we’ll do a white/winter Christmas in New York or something.

Best/worst gift ever received?

Best gift I ever received was actually for my birthday this year—my Kindle. I’m a complete convert to the point where I can’t imagine ever reading a ‘real’ book again. I prefer the Kindle reading experience for some reason.

Best meal?

I am biased, but I make a mean Tira Misu. I got the recipe from a chef and it’s divine! And great because you make it a day or two before, so it’s one thing to cross off the food preparation list early.

Christmas From Hell?

Mmm….I guess having to run around. You know, multiple visits. We do that a bit on Christmas Eve, but I enjoy the fact that then on Christmas Day we just kick back. We start with oysters at midday, then it’s prawns (yes, on the BBQ), then an Asian style salmon fillet dish then Tira Misu (at about 4pm). Then a movie!

Favourite moment from 2012?

That’s easy for me—picking up our son, Liam, from Korea and making our family of three a family of four 🙂

One ambition, large or small, for 2013?

I’ve got a few books I’d like to finish. And hey, a best seller or a lotto win wouldn’t go astray either.

Book(s) this year?

THE MISSING (two short stories), WHEN JUSTICE FAILS (two short true-crime pieces), HELL’S FURY (new book in spy thriller series), and two novels for younger readers that I’ve released under the pen name Pippa Dee—GROUNDED SPIRITS and THE WANDERER.

What’s next?

Probably what I’ve been doing the past few months—juggling motherhood and writing…and feeling like I’m going to crack under the pressure!

JT ELLISON

Where?

Nashville and Florida.

Ideal location?

A family trip to Italy would have been fun.

Best gift you’ve ever received?

I got engaged during Christmas 1994, so that ranks up there….

Worst meal?

Italy, Cinque Terre, a large full fish the size of a cat, with its baleful eye staring up at me… I swear the thing was still breathing. Ugh!

Christmas From Hell?

There’s no such thing. I love Christmas.

Favourite moment from 2012?

Seeing my DH in his gorgeous new kilt for the first time. *fans self*

One ambition, large or small, for 2013?

I want to learn how to paint. In oil, large canvas abstracts.

Book(s) last year?

A DEEPER DARKNESS, EDGE OF BLACK, STORM SEASON

And for 2013?

Writing, writing and more writing. Deadline January 30!

MARTYN WAITES (half of Tania Carver)

Where?

At my in-laws. The kids wanted to go to see all their cousins. They love a big family get together. As for me, I’m pretty bah humbug about it. I don’t care where I go or what I do or whether I get any presents or not. As long as I get to see Doctor Who, I’m happy.

Ideal location?

Somewhere abroad. Morocco would be good. If they were showing Doctor Who.

Best/worst gift ever received?

I’ve been lucky enough to get plenty of presents. I can’t think of specifics in terms of best or worst, but for me the worst kind of gift is the thoughtless kind that someone has put no effort, time or care into. The best ones are the ones you absolutely want. Even if you don’t know you do until you get them. I was lucky enough to get one of those this Christmas.

Best/worst meal?

At Christmas? It’s all the same. I’m not a fan of Christmas dinner. Or any roast dinner for that matter. I eat it, but that’s because it’s what you do at Christmas. Like getting into water and swimming. The best meal I was ever served was at a Persian restaurant in Birmingham in 1988. It involved chicken and pomegranates and I’ve never tasted anything like it to this day. The restaurant disappeared soon afterwards in a kind of Brigadoon fashion and I sometimes wonder whether I actually went there. As for bad food . . . loads. In fact, it probably outnumbers the good food. That’s why I try to remember the good ones.

Christmas From Hell?

Being forced to spend time with people I hate. That goes for the rest of the year as well. And not seeing Doctor Who.

Favourite moment from 2012?

Well, I wrote about my favourite cultural things on the last Murderati post—Y Niwl and the Hammer films retrospective—so they would be there in a big way. But other than that, it was something very small and personal that I’m afraid I couldn’t share and that I doubt anyone would be particularly interested in.

One ambition, large or small, for 2013?

I do. I can’t say anything about it in case I jinx it, but it will be the culmination of a lifetime’s ambition. Or at least I hope it will.

Book(s) this year?

CHOKED, the fourth Tania Carver book came out in September in the UK. THE CREEPER, the second one, came out in the States. There have been other editions round the world and I think Russia finally got round to publishing my 2006 novel, THE MERCY SEAT.

And 2013?

Finishing the new Tania, THE DOLL’S HOUSE, which I’m uncharacteristically quite pleased with. Although it could all go horribly wrong. And then there’s the afore(not)mentioned secret project . . .

GAR ANTHONY HAYWOOD

Where?

At the family’s new home in Glassell Park, which we moved into in October.

Ideal location?

At the family’s new home in Aspen, Colorado, which doesn’t exist.

Best/worst gift ever received?

The best was a dictionary. It was given to me many years ago by a wonderful woman who at the time was my mother-in-law to be. She knew I was an aspiring writer and gifted me accordingly, which, oddly enough, no one in my immediate family had ever thought to attempt before. I still own that dictionary, too.

Don’t get me started on the worst gifts I’ve ever received.

Best/worst food?

The best, far and away, is the egg nog my godfather makes over the holidays. It tastes great and man, does it have a kick to it.

Never been given a fruitcake as a gift, and I pray I never am.

Christmas From Hell?

I think I actually experienced it last year. Attended the worst Catholic midnight Mass possible: cornball music, pointless sermon, and theatre lighting (the service was being video-taped) that would make a mole cover its eyes. Awful.

Favourite moment from 2012?

The family’s spring break vacation in the Galapagos. Unbelievable!

One ambition for 2013?

Completion of a manuscript that a conventional publisher buys for a tidy sum.

Book(s) last year?

Didn’t have a book published this year, though my Aaron Gunner novels were re-released as e-books by Mysterious Press/Open Road.

And for the early part of 2013?

Early? Maybe my first book for middle-graders, which my agent is shopping now. Later in the year? With the grace of God, a publication deal for my first Aaron Gunner novel in almost 10 years.

STEPHEN JAY SCHWARTZ

Where?

Stayed at home with the wife and kids—enjoyed the beach and the beautiful Southern California weather. Played Scrabble and hung out in cafés. Enjoyed a big meal of matzoh ball soup and tofurky.

Ideal location?

Ireland. Clifton or Dingle, to be precise.

Best/worst gift ever received?

I haven’t paid attention to holiday gifts for a long time. I think the worst gift I ever got was for my bar mitzvah—it was a belt buckle. No, actually, perhaps the worst was the beer stein my father gave me for my high school graduation. This, instead of the car I had my eyes on.

Best/worst item of food?

Probably that tofurky we had last week.

Christmas From Hell?

Again, tofurky takes the price.

Favourite moment from 2012?

Seeing my son come back healthy and happy after a two-month hospital stay in Wisconsin.

One ambition, large or small, for 2013?

Main ambition—work to live a creative life, 24/7.

Book(s) this year?

Move along, nothing to see here.

What’s on the cards for the early part of 2013?

Move along, nothing to see here either…

BRETT BATTLES

Where?

The first half I spent in a hot, tropical location with my feet in the water, a beer nearby, and a Kindle in my hand; the second half at home in L.A. with my kids, my parents, and my sister and her kids.

Ideal location?

Nailed it this year.

Best gift ever received?

This year I got the complete set of Calvin & Hobbs from my parents. It was perfect!

Best food?

I made a pretty awesome ham this year that was juicy and delicious. Hmmm, I’m craving leftovers right now!

Christmas From Hell?

Not being able to spend time with my family.

Favourite moment from 2012?

It was a pretty good year all around, so one event…? Going to San Diego for a week with my kids and parents was pretty damn fun!

One ambition for 2013?

Just more of the same … write, travel, and spend time with friends and family.

Book(s) last year?

2012: THE DESTROYED (Quinn #5), PALE HORSE (Project Eden #3), THE COLLECTED (Quinn #6), and ASHES (Project #Eden #4)

And for 2013?

At least four more novels (hopefully five), including a secret collaboration I can’t quite talk about yet.

TESS GERRITSEN

Where?

At home. With family.

Ideal location?

Exactly the same place.

Worst gift you’ve ever received?

An orange pantsuit. I mean, really. My husband has not bought me anything orange ever since. (I’m guessing it didn’t look like this, then, Tess? ZS)

Best/worst meal?

For Christmas? Not one bad meal sticks out. On Christmas, everything tastes wonderful.

Christmas From Hell?

Being stuck in an airport. Far from family.

Favourite moment from 2012?

Standing on the Great Wall of China, with my husband and sons.

One ambition, for 2013?

To finally plant a vegetable garden that the deer can’t demolish.

Book(s) out last year?

LAST TO DIE was published this past summer.

And what’s on the cards for 2013?

Early 2013, I am headed to the Amazon River.

PARI NOSKIN TAICHERT

Where?

At home in peace. No requirements, no expectations. I just let myself be.

Ideal location?

The only other place I can imagine being this calm and relaxed would be Antibes . . .

Best gift?

Probably the best gift I’ve received so far is an essay my younger teen wrote about a difficult incident we shared last year and how it has taught her empathy. Made me cry, it touched my heart so.

Best/worst meal?

The best meal remains one brunch I had in Puerto Rico: fresh flying fish brought in that morning from a catch in Barbados, steamed bread fruit, Barbadian yellow hot sauce, fresh mangos picked minutes before from a tree just steps from where we ate.

Christmas From Hell?

I think it would be one filled with efforts to make it perfect, so many efforts that they’d hit the tipping point and tumble down to the other side of happiness.

Favourite moment from 2012?

The one where I finally realized I’m going to be all right, that the trials of this last year may continue . . . but they’re not going to pull me down into the depths of despair anymore.

One ambition, large or small, for 2013?

Yes.

1. I’d like to e-publish the book that “almost” sold to NYC. It’s the first in a new series and I’d like my character to meet readers and vice versa.

2. To continue to explore my creativity in whatever ways it’s now manifesting, to give myself permission to let it fly.

Book(s) last year?

Nothing in 2012. I’ve been in hibernation for many reasons including the whole copyright issue and the divorce.

And for 2013?

To begin writing again and to enjoy it . . .

ZOË SHARP

As for me, I also spent Christmas this year with my family, which was where I wanted to be.

My ideal would probably have been a ski-in/ski-out chalet somewhere with plenty of snow. Not necessarily for skiing, but definitely for sculpting. I never did get to finish that Sphinx …

As for my ambitions for 2013, to find a life/work balance and to continue to improve my craft.

And books? In 2012 I brought out two e-boxed sets of the first six Charlie Fox novels, plus several short stories, and of course, DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten.

In 2013, DIE EASY is hot off the press in the States. I’m also editing two new projects—a supernatural thriller called CARNIFEX, and a standalone crime thriller called THE BLOOD WHISPERER, as well as working on the first in a new trilogy, the first in what I hope will be a new series, a novella project I can’t say too much about yet, and—of course—Charlie Fox book eleven. That should keep me going for a bit 🙂

So, it only remains for me to wish you all an incredibly Happy New Year, and to thank you for your comments and your feedback during 2012.