On this end of the writing game, it’s easy to have your feelings hurt.  Writers hold their stories very dear to their hearts.  Just see my piece Wetting the Baby’s Head from a couple of weeks ago. A tongue-in-check piece, yes, but no less true.  A writer’s body of work is very precious.  So like I say, it’s easy to take things personally and go vigilante on someone’s ass.

Someone trashes your book on Amazon.  Another author belittles you in public.  A bookstore disrespects you.  Your mum tells you to clean up your room.  You, Johnny Author, what do you do?  The temptation to let them have it is overwhelming, but you have to take it on the chin if you want to last in the writing world.

The examples I used above have happened to me.  Yes, mum never stops telling me about the mess I left behind at home.  She called me up last week to ask when would I be flying home to clear out the attic.  Soon, mummy, soon, I told her.  Instead of, get off my back, woman.  I’m 38 now and you can’t boss me about.  I’m a writer with literally a dozen fans out there.

Hmm, I’m showing little too much leg there, aren’t I?  My point is that there are two ways of handling criticism—the right way and the wrong way.  The wrong way will get you blackballed quicker than you can say, sorry!

The rule of the game is simple—play nice.  It doesn’t matter what people say about you, play nice.  Say you get into a slanging match with a big name author or toss out insults about an editor, bookseller, etc.  The upshot won’t just be pistols at dawn with the person you’re arguing with, but a thousand pistols against your one.  The problem with answering back and getting dragged into a flame war is that people will pick sides.  Maybe you’ve said some author is a hack and anyone who reads him/her is a moron.  You’ve not only incited the author, but all the author’s fans who will be willing to stand by their fav author.

At a signing last week, the bookstore owner told me about an author who came into the store and saw an advance reading copy (ARC) on the bookshelf.  The author told the owner to remove it from the shelf or he would sue.  It’s a fair enough point, ARCs aren’t supposed to be available for sale.  A triumph for the author, but the bookseller admitted, “I took the book down, but do you think I’m ever inviting him in the store for a signing?”  There was a bridge burnt in a matter of minutes.

I’m not saying don’t get angry or develop a thick skin, because unless you are the Dalai Lama, you aren’t going to take it lying down.  I’m saying get it out of your system.  Get angry, kick a ball, bitch about it to your cats, whine to your best friend or wife, but don’t express those feelings in the public domain for all to see.  I’m with bestselling horror author Doug Clegg who says if you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say it.  Personally, I write a sternly worded email about the offending subject then hit delete.  No one is any the wiser and I’m over it.

The problem is that word of mouth works both ways.  If you say something nasty and one person didn’t like what you said then it’s likely that person will tell ten people and those ten people will tell another ten.  Soon your name is dirt.

This isn’t high school or the gym locker room after work.  What you say out loud is liable to hurt you.  A writer, no matter how small their readership, lives in a public forum and will be judged by the public.  Just consider how many actors or sport stars are disliked because of their antics.  Johnny Author is in there with ‘em.  You don’t have to be super nice or fake.  You just have to be professional.  Because as a writer, you are not only an artist— you are also a professional.  So act like a professional, as you would in any other line of work.  It doesn’t take much to torpedo a career.  Don’t make it yours.

Simon Wood

Deni Dietz

I was going to blog "funny waitress stories" this week, but I’ll save it for next week and, instead, find my old newspaper editor’s hat…ah, here it is, on the top shelf; a black-leather John Lennon cap…and write a "Happy Obituary."

No, that’s not an oxymoron.

After a bravely-fought battle with a rare form of cancer, author Katherine Shepherd succumbed Sunday morning. Most of you have never heard of Katherine Shepherd, and that’s understandable. As the author of two mystery novels — Fraternity of Silence and Betrayed by Silence — co-starring a mini Schnauzer named Bowie Aloysius Dog [B.A.D.], Kathy never made the N.Y. Times or USA Today bestseller lists. She never sold a movie option. She never even wrote a blog <thud>.

But Katherine Shephard epitomized everything that’s good about the book biz, everything that’s positive about small press publishing. And for the record, she never felt she was "second cousin" to the big guys — the authors who win prestigious awards, the authors who get 400 reviews [in a row] on DorothyL.

Au contraire. If you look in the dictionary under "enthusiasm," you’ll probably find Katherine Shephard’s name. I don’t know how Kathy felt on the inside, but on the outside she was a star.

Kathy paid her dues. She had a degree in Criminal Justice and she was a political speechwriter. She attended political fundraisers. She truly researched first-hand the politicians who peopled her novels. And best of all, she never said, "Someday I’m going to write a book." She wrote one. And then another. And had she not become sick, she would have kept on entertaining her fans.

Her husband Bob said, "Kathy enjoyed the friends she made during her days as an author.  The people she met on book tours, at speaking engagements, at conferences and while working on and researching her books, as well as the fans she developed, were all benefits she had not previously considered.  She enjoyed all of them."

The last time I saw Kathy, her eyes twinkled and her smile lit up the room. She was so excited because she had a big surprise for me. Seems she’d mentioned my fictitious dog "Hitchcock" in her latest B.A.D. book [Betrayed by Silence].

For those who will miss Katherine’s smile as much as I will, I’ve included a
picture of her ("and her little dog, too").

Rest in peace, Kathy, free from pain. You will live on in your books, and how many people can say that?

Over and Out,
Deni

Pari Noskin Taichert

Yesterday morning when the hotel alarm clock screamed at 5 am, I felt hostile. I’d only gone to bed a few hours before, and had had a few more scotches than advisable, and, um, well . . . had read before I went to sleep. Had the trip to Mayhem in the Midlands (which, btw, is a great con) been worth it?

By the time I got to the airport, I knew the answer was "yes."

During the convoluted airplane journey home from Omaha via Phoenix to Albuquerque (get out your maps, this makes no sense whatsoever), in the middle of a particularly unsettling batch of turbulence, I began to think about why I go to mystery conventions . . . and why I like them so much.

Sure, I could write another article similar to the one about book signings — but most of my reasons would simply echo that earlier piece ("Il Faut Cultiver Votre Jardin"–Murderati, May 22). That’d be a cop out.

Instead, I want to share some of the things I do to make my convention experiences so consistently enjoyable — and worthwhile. I’m framing these ideas into suggestions — tips, if you will — that I hope will enhance your experience, too.

Physical

1. Get out of the host hotel.  Give yourself the pleasure of breathing nonrecycled air; you’ll feel healthier for it. Plus you might get to go dancing at a blues club — like I did in Omaha.

2. Find the gym. If you know where it is, you might even decide to use it. Hey, I did . . . once.

3. Get some sleep/take naps. Darn! I knew there was something I forgot to do at Mayhem this weekend.

4. Drink enough water. I’m talking about the stuff with no color or flavoring. Coffee doesn’t count. Neither does scotch — or wine. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, "drink water." You’ll feel better if you do.

5. Travel with food. Oh, I know this sounds as obvious as the water one but, believe me, traveling with a little decent food — and this doesn’t mean chocolate and Smarties (I use a good trail mix and turkey jerky [for protein]) — can keep you from being exhausted before you even arrive at the event.

Professional

1. Find the bar. I’m not saying you have to drink alcohol here — (remember the water? Well, you can get in a couple of gallons while hanging out). Many of my best exeperiences at conventions have happened in the bar when a group of people gather and I get to meet, and get to know, folks that I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to speak with in another context.

Etiquette point: schmoozing — while in the audience — during panels and presentations is gauche.

2. Prepare for panels. If you’re an author, think about the subject before you walk into the room, puh leeze. If you’re a reader, have a couple of questions in mind. Everyone will benefit.

3. Curb your desperation. Okay, authors, if you want people to read your books, don’t badger them (either on a panel by only talking about your work or in the bar when it’s socializing time).

Readers? You’ll get to meet the writers you want to meet — and spend pleasant time with them — if you remember they’re just people, too.

(Reality check: I’ve never actually had anyone fawn over me, so I don’t know if this is unpleasant or not . . . um, maybe one of you out there could give me a sort of test fawning experience and I could tell you, really, if it bothered me. I’ll be at Murder in the Grove in  . . . oh, waitaminute, I think I’m missing my own warning at the beginning of this section. Sorry.)

4. Don’t worry about attending all the panels. Authors, you can’t (unless you plan to ditch your own panel — and that’s usually ill-advised).

Readers, you’ll be miserable if you obsess too much about getting to all the panels. Some of the best experiences at conventions happen spontaneously and it’d be a shame to feel compelled to stick to the program simply because you think you have to.

5. Be thankful. Yeah, I know it sounds groovy, but it makes so much sense.

Be thankful for the volunteers who put on the convention — people like Sally Fellows, Evelyn Whitehill, Doris Ann Norris (all pictured below), Lori and Tim Hayes and many others who give their time so freely so that we can all enjoy ourselves.

Be thankful for booksellers for carrying your books — and for carrying books you like.

Be thankful for readers (we’d all better be readers) for sharing their enthusiasm, buying books, talking about books . . .

Be thankful for authors for attending conventions, sitting on panels, and NOT hiding in their rooms (or being mean or snobby or whatever . . .) and for offering their perspectives.

Related to this is: Be nice (to hotel staff and others. It’ll just make you feel so good.)

6.  Take the time to listen. This relates to the desperation warning in #3 of this section. No one has to be "on" all the time. Plus, you might learn something important.

6A. Remember that other people are listening to you. Gossip can be so damn fun, so, go ahead and do a little of it. Don’t get too carried away with spreading nasties about other people though. If you do, you’ll become known for being mighty nasty yourself (okay, "nasty" can be cool in some contexts — just not this one).

7. Take time to debrief after the convention. I think it helps to tell someone about the time spent at a particular convention soon after the fact. It gives the adventure substance and brings order to the chaos of this overwhelming experience. That, in turn, allows our brains to synthesize and own the moments we cherished and want to remember.

Conversely, if we did something stupid — like gossiping too much, for example — this might be the perfect moment to see if we can repair some of the damage.

La Politesse (Politeness)

1. Talk with people you don’t know. Hey, we’ve all been there — strangers in a strange land. It feels horrid. Once you’ve got a group of friends, why not expand it by one or two?

2. Be inclusive. See #1 in this section. When a group gets too clique-y, it has the effect of hurting others, of making them feel less important. Do we really want to do that to each other (authors? readers?)?

Of course, several of the previously-mentioned points could go in this section as well — it’s always wise to be thankful, to listen rather than badger, to give other people a chance to speak — but I’ll assume that being polite comes naturally to most of you.

That’s it for the tips.

Below are a few photos taken at Mayhem. Pardon the quality — I’m just learning how to use the digital camera . . . and am even more challenged when it comes to inserting pix in this blog. But, someday, I’ll be as competent as Ms. Hirahara and Mr. Wood. I promise.

At Mayhem, I had two panels. The first one — Hooks & Gimmicks was sparsely attended in the beginning, but that didn’t stop us from having fun — or me from demonstrating one of Sasha’s odd flaws.

  Yeah, I know it’s dark, but you can see from l. to r. — Doris Ann Norris (moderator and librarian extradordinaire), Lee Killough, me with whipped cream, and Maureen Robb. Not in this picture is the wonderful Radine Trees Nehring. (I think her hubby, John, took this picture. Thanks, John.)

From l. to r. — Donna Andrews, Sally Fellows (reviewer and Mayhem volunteer) and Susan McBride.

You can just feel the merriment in the air, can’t you? This is taken in the bar. See what I mean?

L. to r. Maria Y. Lima and Evelyn Whitehill (Evelyn is an active volunteer at Mayhem and one great lady).

I was terrified of blowing the interview with Toastmaster Denise Hamilton. My worries faded the minute she opened her mouth and started telling all of her fascinating stories.

Jeffrey Cohen

It’s the summer movie season. I used to get so excited about this.

There was a time when I really cared about the movies that came out during the summer, thumbing my nose at the pretentious claptrap Hollywood released at Christmas to lure shiny gold statues and show how important it all was. I’d get there first, stand on line, sit in the center of the center row, hunker down with a box of Milk Duds and let it all wash all over me. Even the slide show before the movie (which wasn’t anywhere near as elaborate as the “pre-show” they do today) got me right where I lived. It was my time of year, and I was going to spend it all in a dark room with strangers.

Not anymore.

Maybe I’m indifferent to the summer movie fare offered these days because I’m older now, but I don’t think so. I still have a fine appreciation for things that are well-made nonsense. I still love stupid movies, when they’re intelligent stupid movies. I think the last honest-to-goodness comedy I saw in a theatre of my own volition (when my son, in particular, wasn’t making the programming choice for the day) was Galaxy Quest, a Tim Allen movie about a bunch of actors who save the, well, galaxy. I thought it was well written, well directed and well acted, and I wish I’d relished the experience, because it hasn’t been duplicated since. That was in 1999.

I think the problem is that while technology has undeniably improved in the moviemaking business, storytelling has fallen by the wayside. Most “action” scenes are edited to the attention span of a hummingbird on Ritalin, and half the time, you can’t tell what’s going on, but you’ve got to figure it’s really exciting. The writing (you wondered when I’d talk about writing, didn’t you?)? Well, that editing really is impressive, isn’t it?

So far this summer, I have attended, semi-willingly, three stupid popcorn movies, the kind that used to get my heart pumping weeks in advance. The first, Mission: Impossible 3 (and I’m not the first to tell you to beware movies whose last name is “3”) was a nifty little entertainment that shouted and sweated as if it were the opening bell in a new Renaissance of action. It wasn’t. It was Tom Cruise, frothing at the mouth (which is what we’re used to with Tom these days, alas) about how much in love with some woman or another he was, and how he’d do anything to save her. It’s been a number of years, I know, but wasn’t that what Mission: Impossible 2 was about? What happened to THAT woman?

Then, of course, came The Da Vinci Code, less a movie than an obligation. As the last person on the planet who hasn’t read the novel on which the movie was based, I can’t compare the two, but Tom Hanks is certainly a good actor, and Ian McKellen (sorry: Sir Ian McKellen), with his two canes, has such a good time there are pieces of scenery caught between his teeth by the end of the film, but didn’t it all sort of add up to not much? Couldn’t most of the big “surprises” be seen a mile away, wearing irridescent paint and waving their arms?

There is a certain hazard to being a mystery writer who attends action movies or reads mystery novels. We think like mystery writers while we’re watching the movie, and we often figure out the plot ahead of “civilians.” I nudged my wife 20 minutes into The Sixth Sense to ask if she’d caught on yet. She started talking to me again a couple of weeks later.

We have a story sense, because if we didn’t, we’d be in the plumbing and heating business, and actually making a living. So, when a story isn’t executed so well that we’re distracted from the mechanics of the writing, well, our story muscles are exercised. Don’t hate us because we can see the plot twists coming.

Yesterday, both the kids were determined to see X-Men: The Final Stand (whose last name was “3” before Ellis Island, I’m guessing), which despite the critical lambasting it has taken wasn’t all that bad. It actually includes a villain whose point of view is defensible, even if his tactics are not, and he’s played by Ian McKellen (pardon me: Sir Ian McKellen) in a very silly hat. Again, not an awful movie, but like each of the first two in the series, the details of this one will have entirely left my memory within a week of having seen it.

A large number of movies will open this summer. I’m sort of interested in seeing Superman Returns, as an old fan of the flying guy. But do I have to go the first weekend it’s open? Nah. I can wait. Others that I would have stood on line for in years past will have to wait until they’re available on Netflix. I’m not spending that $12.95 a month for nothing, you know.

I don’t even eat Milk Duds anymore. They helped make me the man I am today, particularly around the middle.

My daughter, however, is counting the days until the latest Pirates of the Caribbean movie. She can barely wait. And her enthusiasm, finally, is something that I look forward to seeing.

By nature, a writer works in isolation.  Not literally, but when it comes to connecting with the public, bookstores, publishers and editors, the writer is isolated from people’s reactions.  And as such, it’s difficult to know where you stand.  Is my standing in the community growing?  Am I on the way up or the way down?  If the publisher tells you that they’re dropping you, then that’s a very good indicator that your personal stock is on the slide, but there are some subtle indicators to take note of.

One such indicator is what I call the “And Many More” syndrome.  This occurs in the magazine and anthology markets.  The magazine or anthology cover screams, “featuring stories by …” and it lists half a dozen names then tails off with the dreaded “…and many more.”   “And many more,” a breed of people who fill up the pages while the big name people take all the glory.  As you’ve probably guessed, I’ve been in the “and many more” or “and others” bucket for quite a while, but things are changing.  I’m slowing rising above the parapet to be a name in my own right.  As much as it sucks to be relegated to the “and many more” side of the tracks, it’s quite a lift to see my name appear on the magazine cover. 

It first happened a couple of years ago.  I’d sold a story to a mystery magazine and it was quite a shock when I received my contributor copy to find my name third on the cover.  Recently my name received second billing in a horror magazine and they had some pretty well known writers in that particular issue.  My last article for Writer’s Digest was mentioned on the cover.  The editor quoted from it in her editorial and the piece got a very nice spread with lots of glossy stills to illustrate.  Yay, me! 

One spot still eludes me.  I’ve never been the headliner.  My stories haven’t been the inspiration for that particular issue’s cover.  I hope to get there soon.  I can handle it.

On the downside, I’ve not totally risen above the minutia.  Depending on whom else I’m sharing page space with; I get the bump back down to minors.  I returned to my “and many more” status for the promotion of the anthology, Eulogies.   I haven’t achieved the rip-roaring status of sitting pretty on the cover of every magazine or book I appear in, I’ve got to work on that. 

So what can I take from my on and off status as a name on magazine covers?  I’m a bubbler on a low heat.  I’ve yet to reach the status where I’m so damn hot that I boil over onto every cover I grace.  That’s good.  I’ve got work to do—I’ve always got work to do—but I can live with that.  My purpose is to keep on keeping on and doing my best to break through.

And I’ll know when I’ve done that when my name isn’t, And Many More.

Simon Wood (who appears in issue #10 of Book of Dark Wisdom—but not on the cover L)

PS: I’ve joined the MySpace revolution recently.  If you want to buddy up, come see me.