Author Archives: Murderati

You know what’s wrong with Bouchercon?

Look, I did my raves already, here. And I’ll fight anyone to the death who even dares to hint that Ruth and Jon and Judy didn’t just put on the greatest show on earth. But let’s get honest, now. There’s something missing, endemically, intrinsically, about the whole Bouchercon experience.

There’s no dancing.

Yeah, yeah, I can feel the skeptics of you out there going skeptical on me already, but trust me, this is leading somewhere you might just want to go.

Because of my confused genre identity, and because romance readers love them some ghost stories, I end up at a lot of romance conferences. And there is dancing there, oh, is there. No hangovers ever at an Romantic Times or RWA conference, because you just dance it right out. Great exercise, too – no one needs to bother with the gym at these things. And it’s great bonding. But there’s a major problem there, too.

No men.

Oh, well, there are the requisite half-naked beefcake cover models. And Barry Eisler. Unfortunately not half-naked, but simply working it.

But besides that – pretty testosterone-deprived.

It’s not that I don’t love dancing with three hundred women at a time. I do. It’s just that it’s not exactly… the same. I love women. I love men. But what I love most of all is women and men together, all variations, doing whatever they do, in all possible permutations.

My favorite advice columnist, Miss Manners, said that “Flirting is what adults do because they know it’s not practical or even desirable to have sex with everyone you’re attracted to.”

Well, that’s precisely the point with dancing, but with more full body contact. That’s what social dancing was invented for – the preservation of monogamy while maintaining healthy levels of fantasy promiscuity.

Social dancing is maybe the one thing that the sixties really screwed up, and I’m from Berkeley, where the sixties never died, so you know I wouldn’t say anything like that unless I really meant it. When people started to dance free-form, non-contact, by themselves (which is what tends to happen when you’re tripping) a whole way of life started to crumble. The sexual revolution had a lot to do with it. Men realized they were going to get sex anyway, so they didn’t have to go to the trouble of learning how to dance in order to get laid. And somehow women let them get away with it. But oh, the loss.

I’m sure it was fine in the seventies, when people were still sleeping with each other left and right. And in the eighties, before the dark age of AIDS and during the age of, well, cocaine.

But then suddenly rampant random sex was not happening any more. But when we lost the random rampant sex, we somehow didn’t go back to the socially sanctioned safe-sex substitute of dance.

Which leaves us – not screwed, but pathetically UNscrewed, I think is what I mean to say.

I haven’t been at this author thing that long, but my observation is that as a group, authors are overwhelmingly…

Married. And faithful.

And it’s a lovely thing – commitment, fidelity – I’m all for it. Cheating is bullshit.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want a cheap feel from a friend – or an attractive stranger – once in a while. And social dancing used to make that not only possible, but pretty much mandatory.

Whoever invented compulsory social dancing really, really, REALLY knew what they were doing. Because within that context, you’re allowed to try out dozens, no, hundreds, even thousands, of different partners. Feel how they move, see if they have a sense of humor and sense of adventure, get a good taste of their passion or lack of, see if they’re generous or selfish, see if you FIT with them. All without saying a word.

And then even once you have your perfect partner (who may not be a great dancer at all, btw – that’s really not the point – you could laugh all the way through the dance of the four left feet and know at the end of it that you’ve found the love of your life) – you don’t have to give up all those other partners. You get them every weekend, all those hundreds and thousands of three-or-five-or-seven minute living fantasies, as long as you’re still able to stand.

What a perfect system!

Let’s apply this to our own situation for a moment.

Some of my favorite times at B’Con this year were with girlfriends, dishing about the guys. And the maybe couples – are they or aren’t they?

Yes, I know we were all there working it. But in the meantime, weren’t you, you know, looking? And thinking?

Is Marcus Sakey too young, or would you make an exception for his old soul? Why do so many women name Dr. Lyle as one of the sexiest men in the mystery community? Did anyone, ever, have a professor like Derek Nikitas in college, and if you did – well, did you? Can anyone’s voice shake you to the – uh – core – like Gary Phillips’? Wouldn’t you love to feel Ken Bruen’s soul in a dance the way you can reading him on the page? How many of the rest of you have secretly wished that Jim Born would just take out the damn handcuffs? This year especially, didn’t you just want to just line up the Brits? Or at least have them talk at you until you passed out? And how about those Teds, as we say in So Cal – the big, comfortable, easy guys you just want to curl up on… er, with… Brett, Rob, Dusty, Bill Cameron, Jason Pinter, Ali Karim?

JA Konrath, angel or demon?

And let’s not forget the agents and editors. I’d put Scott Miller up for a Men of Mystery calendar any day. Joe Veltre was looking mighty fine, and Lukas Ortiz is not only a hottie, but after a five-hour bike ride with him last year in Anchorage I can testify to his endurance. Marc Resnick is so sly and smart – and Eric Raab has that rock star soulfulness – could be Adam Duritz’s brother.

And speaking of brothers and rock stars – when we have two tall elegant brilliant Englishmen like Lee Child and Andrew Grant skulking about the proceedings – and they’re brothers? Or Michael Palmer, pere, and Daniel Palmer, fils, doing the rock star thing at ThrillerFest? I mean, this is better than twins, people. Doesn’t the mind run wild?

Talking about it is fun (Louise Ure and Lori Armstrong and Tasha Alexander and Christa Faust, I’ll dish with you any hour of any day). Talking to people is fun. But after 14 hours or so of it I’m talked out. When the lights get lower and the cocktails are flowing, I want more.

How breathtaking to have a socially sanctioned excuse to leave all that talking behind and simply step into someone’s arms. Repeatedly.

And I’m not talking about drunken groping. I’m talking about people being skilled enough at the LANGUAGE of dance to get out on the floor for three or four minutes and have a whole thrilling, surprising, funny, sexy, touching, mindblowing conversation – every bit as complicated as writing – through rhythm, through touch, through teasing, through holding back and then pushing through, anticipating and riffing on each other’s moves – all without a word. (Is this reminding you of anything? It should be.)

There’s that disconcerting feeling you get as a powerful, independent woman – to have to surrender to his hold. And how thrilling to find that he knows exactly what he’s doing. Yeah, it’s a little flustering that he as the lead is in ultimate control (I tell my male friends that men don’t really dance, they STEER) – but as the woman, or follow, you have any number of opportunities to change the game on him – to halt the step, to change the pattern and make him adjust to you, or just make him watch and know that everyone else in the room is watching while you seduce them along with him.

Dance is conversation to music, too. The music is really another partner, a whole dimension, as much a part of the experience as the person you’re with. If you listen to the great swing tunes, you’ll see that the music changes constantly within the song, from swing to rumba to mambo to, hell, a tap break. If you and your partner are on the ball, you can follow not just each other, but the different dances within a single song. And when you dance a lot, there are certain songs that you just crave to dance with a certain man, to see if he’s up to it. And if he isn’t, you could always dance it with someone else. Dancing doesn’t have to be just one-on-one. You can be dancing WITH someone – but dancing FOR someone else entirely, if you see what I mean.

Think about this for a moment. Let’s just imagine that you CAN dance, just like you can talk, because you’ve been in classes and at cotillion and social dances from the time you were eight, then on to the jazz clubs and Latin clubs, or shag or tango competitions – depending on where you’re from. You can speak dance as well as you speak – if not quite English, then French or Spanish or whatever you speak as a second language. Because that’s the way it used to be. Salsa, Rumba, Swing, Foxtrot, Samba, Lindy Hop, Waltz, Tango, Shag in the South… everyone spoke those languages.

(And let me tell you another thing – age means nothing in dance – it’s all about the conversation. I’ve been tossed in the air by high school kids and danced down a ballroom staircase with the then-85-year-old maestro Frankie Manning (pioneer of the Lindy Hop) and every experience is uniquely wonderful.)

Now, what if that was simply the thing that we all did – from nine or ten pm on?

That’s the way it used to be.

Do you get just a glimpse of what I’m talking about? Can you blame me for being a little nostalgic for that time of night when the talking was done, and a whole other level of communication opened up?

Oh, and the best thing? It’s understood: What happens on the dance floor – stays on the dance floor.

So, if you could…

Who would you want to dance with? At B’Con or Thrillerfest or LCC or wherever. And don’t even pretend you don’t know. Most of you probably have a whole list. Writers are the sexiest people around, and that’s just the truth.

So that’s the question for today. Who would you dance with? Truth or dare.

And if you don’t quite dare, is there something besides writing or reading that does you the way dance does me?

Branding and Trademarks

by J.T. Ellison

Can you use real people, places and events in your fiction work without being sued?

This topic pops up from time to time, and it seems like there are too many people who don’t know the answers, so I thought we could try and sort it out.

The short answer is yes. You can use brand names and trademarked items in your books. You can use real people and real places.

What you can’t do is slander or libel. In other words, any defamation of character isn’t allowed.

In law, defamation (also called calumny, libel, slander, and vilification)
is the communication of a statement that makes a false claim, expressly
stated or implied to be factual, that may give an individual, business,
product, group, government or nation a negative image. Slander refers
to a malicious, false, and defamatory statement or report, while libel
refers to any other form of communication such as written words or
images. Most jurisdictions allow legal actions, civil and/or criminal,
to deter various kinds of defamation and retaliate against groundless
criticism. Related to defamation is public disclosure of private facts
which arises where one person reveals information which is not of
public concern, and the release of which would offend a reasonable
person.^[1] "Unlike libel, truth is not a defence for invasion of privacy."^[2] **

Okay, so now that we know what we’re dealing with, why does this question keep coming up, again and again? It seems like common sense that you can talk about a real person but not talk badly about them. Right?

Well, maybe not so much. The media gets away with salacious tidbits that are utterly unfounded all the time. Any celebrity will tell you they don’t even look at the tabloids because of all the hurtful, hateful nonsense that makes up the headlines.The reason they get away with it is because these people have chosen to put themselves in the public eye, and somewhere along the way, they abdicated their right to privacy. There is a rule of law called the "Public Figure Doctrine" that applies to celebrities, politicians and the like:

Special rules apply in the case of statements made in the press
concerning public figures, which can be used as a defense. A series of
court rulings led by New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, 376 U.S. 254 (1964) established that for a public official
(or other legitimate public figure) to win a libel case, the statement
must have been published knowing it to be false or with reckless
disregard to its truth, (also known as actual malice).^[13]

Under United States law, libel generally requires five key elements.
The plaintiff must prove that the information was published, the
plaintiff was directly or indirectly identified, the remarks were
defamatory towards the plaintiff’s reputation, the published
information is false, and that the defendant is at fault.

The Associated Press
estimates that 95% of libel cases involving news stories do not arise
from high-profile news stories, but "run of the mill" local stories
like news coverage of local criminal investigations or trials, or
business profiles. Media liability insurance is available to newspapers to cover potential damage awards from libel lawsuits. **

So it seems there is a certain amount of caveat emptor (buyer beware) to any person who proceeds into a public life.

Technical jargon aside, how do you, the fiction writer, decide how far to take things?

I again have to draw on my own experience, so bear with me. My character in a homicide lieutenant in the Metro Nashville Police department. It is a real position in a real environment. I set my series in Nashville, and use local landmarks, restaurants and streets to lend both authenticity and recognition to the books. I have real people — in ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS, there is a reporter named Laura McPherson, who worked for Channel 4 (NBC). Real person, who was thrilled to be included. I’ve continued using the actual names of real reporters in newer books for a train of continuity.

I especially like using Nashville’s landmarks and restaurants. We’re such an eclectic town, with a broad and diverse array of social and cultural highlights, so it helps me set the stage. In a city of wild dichotomies, people who subsist on fare from Radius 10 and Sambuca and attend the symphony at the Schermerhorn are vastly different from those who go to Captain Ds or Waffle House and spend their time at the Grand Ole Opry.

I use trademarked items as well. Kleenex. Diet Coke. Starbucks. BMW. Taylor drives a 4Runner. I always use the proper names of cars: it a great, subtle tool for character development. A man who drives a 2008 Prius and a man who drives a 1967 Mustang are going to be very different people, and in one swift brushstroke I’ve explained that. The same for someone who drinks Diet Coke instead of Coke. The same for someone who goes to Starbucks instead of making coffee in their own home.

Is it lazy for me to use these little daily details to flesh out my characters? I don’t think so. Sometimes it’s easier to describe a ’67 Stang instead of a flowery exposition on a muscle car.

But what I can’t do is use a real place, a real person, a trademarked item in any way that isn’t publicly verifiable. I have taken real figures and turned them into fictional ones, to protect the innocent, and myself. But I can’t write a real person into the book and have them do something illegal or out of character.

For example – I can’t take a newscaster, use their real name and give them a virulent coke addiction. I can’t use Diet Coke in the commission of a crime if it is something that isn’t manipulated by the character – meaning I can’t blame Diet Coke. I can use a can of Diet Coke to bash in a head, I can’t say Diet Coke is responsible for driving the villain crazy by removing a portion of the caffeine and thus driving them to commit the crime.

There are strict limitation to using real people and places, yes. But it’s not that hard to get around. In 14, I needed a bar that was next to a strip club. Yes, there’s plenty of places in Nashville that fit the description. But in this particular case, I cheated and moved the geographical location. I’m allowed. It’s creative license. Can I take the Parthenon and put it on Legislative Plaza? No. But I can use fictional locations and manipulate them into real locales.

A fantastic example of an author who has used a real character in her books but fictionalized him is Charlaine Harris’s Bubba. We all know it’s Elvis. He’s not dead, he’s a vampire. But Charlaine never says it’s Elvis. She uses a beautifully subtle, wink, wink, nudge, nudge scenario to poke fun at the cultural phenomenon of people who believe Elvis is still with us.

Which leads us to the dead. Are they sacred? Can you not discuss people who have passed? Of course you can. Another example is Tess Gerritsen’s THE BONE GARDEN. Tess uses Oliver Wendall Holmes, a very real character, to shape a fictional world. She does is brilliantly, and it’s obvious how much effort and research went into Holmes’s character.

So take heart, writers. You can use real people, places and trademarks in your novels.

Do you have a favorite famous place or person who makes an appearance in a book? And does anyone from the legal community care to weigh in here?

Wine of the Week: 2005 Huarpe Lancatay Cabernet Sauvignon

** All citations from Wikipedia

PS: I must take a moment and give a huge, public thank you to everyone who signed my Get Well Card at Bouchercon this past weekend. I can’t tell you how much it meant to receive a card signed by all my favorite people, and I was literally in tears, of joy and thanks, of course, reading all of your inscriptions. I love you all, and am so sorry I missed you. And an especial thanks to Miss Zoë who arranged this incredibly lovely surprise. You are the greatest, babe. XOXO

Location, location, location

by Zoë Sharp

Well, I was intending to do another of those blogs about What I Did At Bouchercon, because there were a few stories there that deserve telling – getting mugged by a paramilitary evangelist in Baltimore Airport, for a start. And the museum exhibit designer we met on the plane on the way out, who turned out to be one of those people you instantly take to.

But then I read Dusty’s comments from yesterday about Not Another What I Did At Bouchercon Report, and realised I was going to have to come up with something new. And fast.

Aw, rats.

So, hello to everyone we met. It was a convention of delights for me. There are people I’ll never forget – mostly for the right reasons! And instead I’ll move to Monday night, New York City. We had dinner with Lee Child, SJ Rozan, and new Brit crime thriller author, Andrew Grant – who also happens to be Lee’s little brother. And the subject of location came up over goat biryani (don’t ask). “There have been very few series that have been truly successful in the States,” Lee said, “that haven’t been set here.”

Now, your first instinct is to deny this. But the more you think about it, the more it seems to hold true. There are the occasional exceptions, of course. Sherlock Holmes, for one. And Golden Age crime seems to demand an English country house setting, some time between the wars. But more recently …?

The only ones that immediately hit me are Jacqueline Winspear Maisie Dobbs books, although the time period puts it into a different, historical category. And Cara Black’s Aimée Leduc, not to mention our own Ken Bruen who has his Galway-set Jack Taylor series and the London-based Brant and Roberts books. But even Ken has experimented with US-set novels, like ONCE WERE COPS. There are one or two of the translated authors who are also making waves, such as Stig Larsson. But, others? It starts to get difficult to think of any. Although, I must admit that I’ve literally just got off an overnight redeye flight home, so it is possible that my brain is totally fried.

But, of all the really top authors in the US bestseller charts, I’m not sure I can think of any whose books are set elsewhere. And often, a writer will move his characters to the States partway through a series – I admit to doing this myself, at the behest of my US publisher. The first time it happened, for FIRST DROP, was coincidence. Charlie was working as a bodyguard and the idea for the plot hinged on the book being set during the Spring Break weekend at Daytona Beach. My current US editor read that book, liked it, and put in the request that Charlie might soon be working in America again soon. And when a publisher makes such a suggestion, an author generally takes it on board.

Fortunately, this conversation happened at a stage when I was changing publisher in the UK and my new house, Allison & Busby, were more than happy with the idea. Having Charlie living and working in America not only gives her the chance to carry – and often use – firearms that she would not otherwise get the opportunity to, but it also emphasises her status as an outsider, looking in.

So, the first part of this question is, do you think this is this is the case? Do you think a book has to be set in America to sell well in America. And, if not, why not? I need examples, people!

I have a trio of nice Words of the Week this week. The first is apricity, which is the warmth of the sun in winter. The second is balter, which is to dance clumsily. And the last – and I’m horrified to think this happens often enough to have its own word – is lant, which means to add urine to ale to make it stronger.

True or False?

by J.D. Rhoades

Okay, this won’t be
another one of those "who I met at Bouchercon" pieces, but I do want to give a
shout out to my fellow Murderati, both posters and commenters, who I met (or met again) there. Sure,we didn’t win the Anthony, but
it was a lot of fun hanging with you. And for the record, the funniest Bouchercon story, bar none, is here.

Moving on….

Seems to me we’ve been awful serious lately. Not that that’s a bad thing. Not in the slightest. There have been some great, thought-provoking posts here, and some thoughtful and incisive comments on those posts. I’ve learned a lot from you folks. But, you know, all work and no play makes Jack Nicholson try to axe his whole family to death in THE SHINING.

So, as a reward for everyone’s good work, let’s kick back, take a break, and have a little fun. I’m going to throw out a fun or unusual "fact" about a writer or a well-known work, and you tell me if it’s true or false. Later, I’ll post answers in the comments. Those with the most right answers will get their names thrown in the hat, and I’ll pick one and send them a copy of BREAKING COVER, autographed by yours truly, unless you’d rather have it autographed by someone else. That would be kind of weird, but I’m an easygoing guy. Be sure to READ THE QUESTIONS CAREFULLY.

And, just for grins, throw out your own fun "fact" about a writer or work and let the rest of us guess if it’s true or false. An additional prize may be given out for the best one of those. Or it may not, depending on my mood.

Okay, here we go.

TRUE OR FALSE:

1. When Dashiell Hammett was working as a private detective,
he got his first promotion after a case that involved tracking down a stolen Ferris wheel.

2. Arthur C. Clarke named the HAL 9000 computer in 2001: A
SPACE ODYSSEY by shifting each of the letters in the IBM name one letter back in the alphabet.

3.The catchphrase "The butler did it!" originally came from a conversation William Faulkner had with Raymond Chandler while writing the screenplay for THE BIG SLEEP.

4.Dr. Seuss wrote GREEN EGGS AND HAM when his editor
challenged him to write a story using only fifty different words.

5. Michael Connelly actually threw away the manuscript to THE BLACK ECHO, but his wife fished it out of the garbage and persuaded him to submit it.

6. Ian Rankin’s book BLACK AND BLUE was originally going to be
called OBSESSION, but a perfume maker came out with a perfume with the same name,
and the title was changed.

7. There is a "lost" Travis McGee book written by John D. McDonald called A BLACK BORDER FOR MCGEE. It’s narrated by his old friend Meyer and tells the story of McGee’s death. McDonald submitted it with the proviso that it be published after his own death, but the publisher refused to release it.

8. Patricia Highsmith’s mother tried to abort her by drinking turpentine.

9. Fantasy/SF writer Harlan Ellison once supported himself by writing lesbian pornography under the name Ellyn Harlison. His best-known work was called I HAVE NO **** AND I MUST CREAM.

10. Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammett is a great grand-nephew of Dashiell Hammett.

Good luck!

P.S. This should go without saying, but no Googling for answers. You’re on the honor system.

Moments of Epiphany

By Louise Ure

There are moments of epiphany in otherwise normal, expected days that can take your breath away. Moments when everything seems worth it. When you’re surprised by a sense of bliss like a ray of sunshine on a cloud-dark day.

I had several of those in Baltimore. Tiny things, some of them, that made five days at Bouchercon a time that I will remember forever.

This won’t sound like anybody else’s review of our annual convention for crime fiction aficionados, I’m guessing, although like every other blog poster, I have to commend the organizing committee – and especially Ruth Jordan and Judy Bobalik – for doing such an extraordinary job. They planned well, they handled concerns with ease and grace, and they made it all seem effortless.

But my special moments are different. Not the panels I attended. Not the panels I led. Not the parties. They’re more private than that, and perhaps less obvious.

Like meeting Kaye Barley for the first time. Should I have expected the open, honest gaze in her eyes? Yes, her eyes have the same generosity and candor as her posts. But it’s the caramel-covered Southern accent that stopped me dead in my tracks. When you read Kaye’s posts from now on, listen for the lilt, the measured sweetness that makes you feel like you’ve just been welcomed home.

Like seeing the instant and expert help offered to the writer’s husband who had fallen down the stairs between panel sessions. It was a short flight of stairs, no more than five or six, but when he tumbled he must have hit his head on the metal handrail on the way down. He lay unmoving, with blood gushing from a jagged cut on his chin. Not only did those around him move to help with the speed of trauma team but they did it with expertise. Readers and writers who, in normal life, are doctors and nurses were by his side in a matter of seconds. Isn’t it a joy that our crime fiction community includes these folks with such special skills?

There was also The Sad Moment of The Lost Children on Thursday night. I returned to my room on the fourth floor of the hotel after the awards presentations and drinks and loud, bubbly conversation in the lobby. There, sitting on the floor of the hallway and leaning up against door #408, were two little black girls, one about three years old and one about eight. They were breathtakingly beautiful, dressed all in white in almost African garb, with convoluted turban-like headdresses on. I asked if they were okay and the elder of the two said fine but they were locked out of their room. I asked where their parents were and she replied, “I don’t know.” I called hotel security and they arrived almost immediately, with crooning, comforting voices, a master passkey and two chocolate chip cookies.

On Saturday night, the whole Murderati crew met for drinks in the bar, and I finally got to meet B.G.Ritts and R.J. and Wilfred. How can I feel that I’ve known them forever? The entire evening felt like a celebration family dinner, diminished only by the absence of JT, Tess, Allison and Toni.

And speaking of missing Murderati folks, nothing could have been finer that seeing the light in Ken Bruen’s eyes as he introduced his fiancée, Lisa, out on the breezeway between the hotels. You know if this woman has captured his heart that she is indeed someone special.

And then there was Nancy. When she showed up in the signing room with a copy of The Fault Tree, she had this beaming expression on her face like a proud parent watching a child’s first school play. I knew the face, but from where? “When I met you in El Paso four years ago,” she said, “you said I was the first person to ever ask you for an autograph.” And so she was. She’d had a just-released ARC of Forcing Amaryllis and it was the first time that anyone had ever considered me an author or ever asked me to sign a book. I remember how I felt that day, like I had champagne running through my veins. She is, and always will be, my first fan.

Others will tell you how fine the panels were, how raucous the parties, how Baltimore showed its good and bad side block by block. I’ll remember Kaye, and Nancy, the soon-to-be Lisa Bruen, helpful nurses, and small trembling children in hotel hallways. You know what they all have in common? Someone caring for and about someone else. That’s not a bad epiphany at all.

Critique groups and you

by Pari

You’ve shown your manuscript to your mother; she adored it. You’ve sent it to your brother; he says it’s brilliant. All your friends are poised to buy hundreds of copies once the book is published.

Only problem is, no one else cares. Agents aren’t calling or answering queries. Editors run shrieking into the bathroom when they see you at conferences.

The truth? I’m sorry to tell you, pal, but you’ve fallen into the trap of thinking your writing is God’s gift . . . when it isn’t.

Go ahead, take a minute to lick the wounds to your ego. I’ll wait for you; I’ve been there myself . . .

After you’ve gone through the various stages of grief incluing denial, anger, bargaining, self doubt and general pissiness, you’ll be ready to get back to work.

And at that point, you’ll have some choices to make. Should you edit and revise on your own? Do you want to talk with your agent (if you’ve got one) and ask for help? Would it be a good idea to hire a freelance editor or bookdoctor? Or do you want to start/create a critique group?

I’ve done all four. Each one has its merits. However, I like critique groups because when they gel, they’re incredibly helpful and supportive.

When they don’t, they’re hell. Here are some of the pitfalls I’ve seen first hand:
* Ego and personality clashes
* Members ganging up on others
* Smarmy, half reads — sugary critiques that aren’t worth anyone’s time
* Stealing ideas

Whew. I’m glad that’s over with.

Now for the good stuff:
If you’re fortunante enough to land in the right critique group, the experience is tremendously affirming and instructive. It’ll stretch you as a writer and a reader.

What makes a good critique group? Here’s my take:
1. Rules
This isn’t a social hour, it’s a work session. The group I belong to follows the basic guidelines set up by Clarion. You can read two good articles on this here (how to workshop) and here (insights into how to react when being critiqued).
2. Trust
Participants need to feel that everyone in the group has the same goal when they’re reading and critiquing: to help each other write and tell the best stories possible. That’s it.
Do I need to mention NO STEALING? I sure hope not.
3. Commitment
Participants have to be willing to read the good and the bad, and to treat each submission — and each member — with utter respect. No showing up without having read the submissions, no comments without considered rationale.
4. Confidentiality
Only gab or complain about participants in the group IN the group — and rarely do that, if ever. Keep mum about other people’s works-in-progress.
5. Similar levels of writing experience
It’s uncomfortable and inappropriate to have writers with vastly different levels of experience in the same group. If you do, some participants become "experts" while others are peons. How can you possibly nourish the useful kind of democracy that promotes honest communication in that case? I don’t think it can happen.

The group I belong to in Albuquerque has five members and that’s all we want. Every one of us has been published by a traditional press and has years of writing experience under our belts. The other participants are: Pati Nagle, D. Lynn Smith, Sally Gwylan and Gerald Weinberg. We meet every two weeks and read approx. 50 pages of each other’s WIPs. We all have very different perspectives and personalities and write in different genres. We’re not best friends, but have vast amounts of respect for each other. And we’ve become a wonderful little community, a support group of writers who yearn to improve and grow in our craft.

Writers: What works for you? Have you ever participated in a critique group? What happened? (Horror stories are as welcome as happy ones.)

Non-writers: Have you ever been part of anything similar to a critique group in your professional life? Tell us about it.

logic flaws

by Toni McGee Causey

I once made a near-perfect score on the logic portion of my GRE exam when applying to grad school.

(I will now wait for those of you who know me well to wipe off your monitors from the spit-take you just had. Really sorry about that.) (And sadly, they did not count the logic part toward my actual GRE total. They counted the math part. For an English major. That is just mean.)

I am also the person who, at eight months pregnant, got incredibly fed up with a table which was in the way in the kitchen–I had more thigh-high bruises from banging into the corners than I could count–so I decided that, logically, the damned thing wouldn’t be in the way if I could just shove it under the counter where the cast-iron sink stood. Except it wouldn’t quite fit. It was slightly taller than the bottom of the sink basin I wanted to shove it underneath, so clearly, the legs just needed to be shortened a little bit. This was the point that logic should have dictated that I wait until my contractor husband came home, someone who actually knew how to measure things and, um, how math works, but no, no, I did not. I went outside and got the only saw I could find (my husband, being a brilliant man, had hidden all of the electric tools). It was a hand-saw, the kind you use to lop off old tree limbs and not the most accurate of blades. And then I decided that I could eyeball a mere inch, because how hard could that be? (Did I mention the eight months pregnant?) Whereupon, I started sawing an "inch" off the bottom of the legs… only to discover that they were lopsided and it didn’t quite fit underneath the sink… wherein I lopped off another "inch" and made the whole thing slant to the side, so everything rolled into the corners of the drawers… wherein I thought "one more inch will do the trick" and by this time, I had blisters on my hands from that damned saw, but did I stop? No, I did not. I sawed and sawed and sawed and spent twenty thousand years sawing on those damned table legs and then I realized it was still lopsided and then I was pretty pissed off and later, when my husband came home from work, he took one look at the legless table sitting on the floor underneath the kitchen sink and the pile of leg-bits and sawdust and broken saw in the middle of the kitchen floor and wisely decided to take me out for dinner.

I have incredible duh moments, probably like most anyone. I can get absorbed in what I’m doing and completely forget the overall picture of what ought to be done. But as a writer, I have to guard against poor logic creeping into my fiction. (Story logic cause/effect.) On the other hand, I love solving problems, which is probably why I’m so drawn to the mystery and thriller world.

Now, my writing method falls somewhere between being a plotter and a pantser. (A plantser?) I will start work with a general sort of idea–I know where the story starts and I know where it ends. There are specific concrete emotional beats I know are important to the story, and these beats–exploring those moments–are what generally make me want to write that particular story at that particular time.

Next, I’ll break the story down into major movements (first act turning point, mid-point, third act turning point, climax). These major movements are based on what the characters want–the protagonist and antagonist(s). Reversals, betrayals. I look at the pattern of escalation–is everything getting worse, is the tension increasing? If something incredibly bad happens after the act one turning point, can the choices the protagonist makes next lead to something worse? If not, the tension is off, muted, lessened, and that often leads to the desire to toss something in there while in the middle of writing that section, because instinctively, I’ll feel that it’s off and will want to fix it. Beware of the artificial fix, because they usually introduce logic problems.

This is the point where I’ll start the inner bullshitometer to watch for story fallacies and poor logic:

Have I cheated? If I am in the POV of the antagonist, am I being true to what he’d really be thinking in that moment, or have I obfuscated his thinking just to make him look innocent? Whenever I am reading and am in the POV of a character who later turns out to be the bad guy and there was nary a hint of it, I feel incredibly frustrated. And cheated–because that character’s not really thinking what they’d be thinking at that moment if they know they’re guilty. I can understand them not saying it out loud, but inside? They’d know. They might not be all "hee hee I am ze bad guy, woohoo" (that’s technical jargon I am dazzling with here today), but they’d be thinking something. Their point of view would be refracted through their choices, through their duplicity and intent to cover up. [The only exception to this is the unreliable narrator, who is telling the story. This is generally successful when we are not in that narrator’s interior point of view.]

Are there coincidences? Life has tons of coincidences. Fiction, not so much. I think, if you’re lucky, you can pull off one coincidence per book, but if that coincidence occurs just at the darkest moment when the protagonist happens to need that one piece of information in order to live and save the day, I’m going to be annoyed, as a reader.

Time frame? Am I telling the story in a logical sequence? Note: you don’t have to tell the story in the order that it occurred. But if you’re going to break the sequence of events and rearrange them, there needs to be a reason why, other than, "Oh, yeah, they need to know this that happened sixteen years ago so they’ll understand that part over here." The forward momentum of a story stops every time there is a flashback to fill in–the tension pauses. Successful flashbacks introduce another layer of conflict in the here and now as well as show a conflict in that moment. [I’m a fan of breaking time frames, by the way, but the reader has to be able to follow the fracture and not feel entirely lost. There has to be enough of a thread of story logic for them to hold onto what they need to keep that forward momentum going, to keep trusting the author to get them to the end and it all make sense.]

Could it have happened that way? By the end of the book, I’ll have layered in characters and motives and reversals and it is very easy to get lost in the details. If you’re one of those people who plot every single moment ahead of time, congratulations (I kinda hate you, though). You probably don’t have to worry about this step. But if you’re a plantser / pantser, then you probably need to go back to the central question of the mystery and make sure the solution could actually happen the way you’ve described it. One of my all time favorite thriller writers had a stand alone where the end could not have happened the way he described it. At all. Told from the protagonist POV, the murder situation was described very differently at the end of the book by the protagonist than he’d described it at the beginning, and he wasn’t being an unreliable narrator–it just couldn’t have happened the original way and the writer adjusted. I was so invested in his characters that I wanted to smack him with the book. He’s gone on to break records selling and I’ve kept buying his books, so clearly, he’s not hurting any from annoying me, but I didn’t trust him as much. And that, really, is the risk here: unless you have incredible sales momentum behind a bestselling name, if you introduce something completely illogical, the readers aren’t going to trust you as much next time. That can make the difference between selling… and selling well.

Did the protagonist solve his/her own problem? Personally, I think it’s okay if the protagonist builds a team around them and utilizes the team’s experience / knowledge / dynamics to help them solve the problem, but if the final answer really does come from someone else and the protagonist is just along for the ride, then it doesn’t feel as much like the protagonist’s story. It feels weak. If someone we don’t know very well, some minor character, swoops in to save the day, I’m gonna quit buying that writer’s books, especially if the character is supposed to be smart.

Is the problem big enough for a story? This one of those "execution" questions–it can work if written well. If the story can be solved simply by the protagonist and antagonist getting over petty differences or sitting down and having a heart-to-heart talk, there might not be enough of a problem there to sustain a whole book. There has to be a fundamental reason why they won’t talk or can’t talk, (they are spies for opposing forces, for example). If they go through a tremendous amount of hell in the book and the solution is, "Oh, well, we’ll just sit down now and talk," then it’s going to feel like I’ve been mislead as to the logic of the problem. [This is one of those issues that could probably have a blog all by itself.]

Does the logic of the story follow the logic of the world the writer has created? This is one of those rules-of-the-world issues. The Bobbie Faye world is filled with bigger-than-life hyperbolic action. Insane stuff, and I set that up right at the top of book one when her trailer floods… and falls on its side like a dying elephant. The story action has promised the reader that in this world, it’s no-holds-barred, but that it makes sense within the world created. If the solution / climax of the story depends on that kind of action, then the logic for that action needs to be built in earlier. If the world is anything different at all from what we see and hear daily, then the writer needs to set up those rules early on and adhere to them at the end. Not only adhere to them, but they need to be important to the resolution.

It’s easy to miss these potential logic/story problems in one’s own writing. It’s very easy to get so absorbed in the details ("one more inch!") that one forgets the overall point (to use the damned table). It’s really easy to have a gun on page 232 when in fact the antagonist had tossed it in the river on page 134, and the writer forgets that in the rough draft. Tracing the route of the solution, though, can help catch these little things. Solving the bigger ones, though, is what makes writing a challenge–and fun.

So what logic errors or concerns have I missed on this list? I know there are more… (or, hey, tell me what dumb thing you’ve done lately)

Setting Goals

by J.T. Ellison

Since so many of our compatriots are in Baltimore, having a blast at Bouchercon, indulge me while I feel sorry for myself for a few minutes. There really is nothing worse than having to pull out of a conference unexpectedly, which is what happened to me this week. I learned my lesson at Left Coast Crime in Denver – if you aren’t 100%, doing the conference right is very, very hard. I’d just come off emergency surgery, was weak as a kitten and still feeling horrid, and I went and tried my damnedest to be "on." It didn’t work. The pictures show a pale-faced wraith with a half smile, and all I could think about was getting back to my room to lay down.

For the authors, it’s a show, and you’re the star. You need to be able
to be on, to focus on the readers, to give them a slice of your
personality. You’re selling yourself as much as you’re selling your books. So, word to the wise. If you can’t be author boy or author girl, don’t go. Nothing’s worse than feeling poorly at a conference.

Okay. I’m done with the whining.

I thought we poor, wayward souls left behind could do some goal setting today.

Are you a listmaker who loves to cross items off your list, or are you a catch as catch can, try to remember, tie a string around your finger type? It’s a true assessment of your personality, I think. There are those of us who like to be hyper-organized, and those who let the chips fall where they may.

Though I’m a "pantser" when it comes to writing my novels, I like to be organized. I like to make lists, to tick off my actions. It gives me a sense that I’m getting something accomplished. I used to carry a day runner and have daily lists, weekly list, and monthly lists. Now I’m more electronic, and have a online notepad that I write my lists on. It’s not as satisfying, actually, so I’m looking at going back to the old way.

So aside from the day-to-day and week-to-week lists, I’ve been thinking about making myself a goals list – where will I be in One Year, Five Years, Ten Years? Why? I woke this morning wondering where I was going to be in ten years. I received the cover art for my 4th novel yesterday. (It’s BRILLIANT!) I’m revising that book now and will start my research for the 5th next week. Which in all actuality is my 6.5th, since my first didn’t sell and I wrote a novella prior to that. 6 full length novels. 6. That’s 600,000 words. I feels like an accomplishment. And it’s also going pretty damn fast, considering I started writing in 2004.

Yes, there’s a lot of writers with many more published books, but there’s also many people who never finish the first. So I had a little moment of triumph, all alone in my living room, with the cat staring at me like I was nuts. She likes it when I sit quietly and whistle occasionally, not smack my head and mutter incoherently.

And thus, I woke wondering where I was going to be in ten years. I spent last week in Omaha, with one of my favorite people and authors, Alex Kava. With her manager Deb at her side, they took me to bookstore after bookstore, and I got to watch a NYT bestseller in action. It was, to say the least, humbling. We did three audience based events, all of which went very well. Alex is a known commodity in Omaha the way I’d like to be a known commodity in Nashville. She has roots there: family, friends, but most of all, fans. Tons of them. Of every different stripe. It was so cool to sit beside her and meet all of these people, who I must say were incredibly gracious to the southern interloper.

Alex just published her 8th book, a fantastic title called EXPOSED. All of her titles have been in hardcover, which gives her a major leg up on me. But it’s more than that. She is accessible, sly and witty. The fans love her to pieces. They love Maggie O’Dell. They love having a chance to meet her. When we spoke to the "Detective Novels and Society" class at the College of St. Mary’s, Alex’s alma mater, I was struck by the respect she commanded from the students. She is something I aspire to be, a solid writer with a large fan base and a sense of humor about the whole process.

So I guess the first thing to consider when setting a goal is an act of emulation. Find your Alex. Find an author who you think embodies your career path, someone who you respect, whose writing you enjoy, whose publishing house does it right. Then look at where you are. Are you unpublished, writing in a vacuum, not a member of any organizations, never been to a conference? Are you with a small press and want to get into a major house? Are you a short story writer who wants to become a novelist? What is your next step?

Looking back to my own path to publication, I set small, attainable, intermediary goals for myself so I didn’t get discouraged. And that’s vital. You can’t set a goal like this: It is October 2008. I will write the great American novel by October 2009, sell it for a seven-figure advance, get coop in every store, be a Barnes and Noble pick and win the Edgar award. That’s setting yourself up for failure.

Set attainable goals. I will write 1,000 words a day. (You do that, you’ll have a rough draft in 3 months.) I will join my local chapter of Sisters in Crime and meet some new people. I will buy a subscription to Publisher’s Marketplace and put up a website. I will blog weekly. I will read at least two books a week. I will stop saying what if and start doing. My glass will be half full, and I will see others in a more sympathetic light. I will query my manuscript.

And follow through. I did all of the things I just mentioned, and found myself with a novel, an agent and a blog gig.

So we’ve set the small goals to get you started. When do you set the big goals? When do you start thinking about the possibility of becoming a bestseller? When do you lay out where you want to be in ten years?

Well, I don’t have the answer to that. I’m afraid to worry about the future. I feel much better setting my goals for the year, and not worrying about the what ifs. One of my favorite saying is:

"Control the things you can control."

You can control how many words you write. You can control your pace, your research and your quality. You can be open to new experiences and read out of the genre. You can. Remember that always.

YOU CAN.

So with that in mind, what are your short-term goals for your career? Have you set any long-term goals?

Wine of the Week: 2005 Pascual Toso Cabernet Sauvignon

Conference, I Don’t Need No Stinking Conference!

By Brett Battles

Since today is the first day of Bouchercon 2008 (and that’s where I am, so if I don’t get back to your comments, please forgive me), I thought I’d share my experience with the first Bouchercon I attend. And for those readers and aspiring writers wondering if you should go to a conference, I’ll let you make your own judgment after you finish reading.

It was Chicago, 2005. My first novel had been bought by Ugly Town the previous February, and had been scheduled to come in October, a month after the conference. Only in August, Ugly Town ran into some business problems and had to suspend operations. This was the time between when Ugly Town shut down and two months later when Bantam Dell would buy my contract from them. So as you can imagine, it was a very unstable period for me. I thought I was going to have to go back to the beginning and start sending out queries again. Hell, I thought I was going to have to shelve THE CLEANER and write something new.

I had already signed up for Bouchercon at the suggestion of the Ugly Town guys, but was suddenly unsure if I should go. What was the point, I thought. Jim Pascoe talked me into it. He said go learn what I could, and to talk up my book. (At that time Ugly Town was still hoping to maybe – stress maybe – bring it out in the spring of ’06.) So, based on this, I decided to go.

I was nervous as hell. I only knew one person who was going to be there, Nathan Walpow. But he wasn’t going to be around that much, plus I hated the idea of relying on him to smooth my way through the conference. So I ended up keeping mosly to myself.

When I arrived, I didn’t know what to expect. I wasn’t even sure how many people were going to be there. Because of work commitments, I didn’t arrive until after lunch on Thursday. (NOTE to those thinking about attending Bouchercon in the future: come in on Wednesday as things get rolling first thing on Thursday morning. I’d actually make this a blanket suggestion for all conferences to come in the day before, because you can hook up with a lot of people that evening when things are still manageable.)

Where was I?… Oh, so I come in Thursday afternoon and find the conference in full manic mode. There were people EVERYWHERE. And I mean TONS of people. I check in and get my conference materials (schedule, badge, etc.) and this big bag stuffed with books! BONUS! I had no idea I’d be getting so many free books. I immediately went up to my room, dropped off my stuff, looked at the schedule, and worked out a plan of panels I wanted to see.

My first panel is the panel I remember most. (I think it was my first panel…could have been a later one, but that’s what my memory’s telling me right now.) It’s not the topic I remember…have no idea what that was now. I do remember a large room with a standing room only crowd. And I remember the moderator. This big guy with a beard and glasses running around the room, cracking jokes and getting the crowd going. Of course it was Joe Konrath, but I had no idea who he was at that time. (If you’ve never seen Joe work a room, it is a site to behold.) I was mesmerized by the things he and the panel were talking about. I think Barry Eisler was on the panel. He was definitely on one of the first panels I saw because he also made an impression on me. (And if any of you have seen Barry speak, you know what I mean, he’s really good at talking to a crowd. )

From there I bounced from panel to panel, never taking a break. The evenings, though, were a different story for me. Since I didn’t know anyone I didn’t know what to do. I actually spent most of my evenings in my room reading. After seeing Barry speak, I picked up the first three Rain novels and read them all that weekend in Chicago. Somehow I found out that the bar was the place to hang out after hours. Well, the one time I went, the bar was almost empty. Must have been a night when everyone was out at some other event. Not sure. But soon I found myself back in my room , a Rain book in my lap.

I’m not sure if I miss any panel times all weekend. They were so energizing and inspiring to me, that later, when I was back in L.A., I wrote out a marketing plan for THE CLEANER and gave it to Ugly Town to get them excited again. (It worked, but in a whole unexpected way…the previously mentioned buying of my contract by Bantam.)

Anyway, at some point over the weekend I did drum up enough courage to introduce myself to Barry and Joe, just a quick in and out – “Hi, I’m Brett. Great to meet you.” And I did make it to one bar where some award was being handed out. Can’t remember which though.

But if my weekend ended there, with all I’d learned while watching the panels, it would already have been approaching priceless. Yet, though I wouldn’t know it for another six months, there was more to come.

On Sunday vans shuttled people from the hotel to the airport. I think there were probably about seven other people in the van I got on. One was a recently hired editor at (I think) Romantic Times magazine. She struck up a conversation with the woman next to her. The woman, it turned out, was an agent. As we neared the airport, I finally thought to myself “What the hell,” then said to the agent, “I’m an unrepresented author with a book coming out.” We talked for a few minutes. I still wasn’t sure what was going on with Ugly Town so I wasn’t pushing her. After we all got out, I said goodbye to the woman and entered the airport.

As I sat eating…something I can’t recall…at the cafeteria in O’Hare Airport, I suddenly realized someone had stopped in front of me, and was looking at me. It was the agent I’d met on the van. She said something like, “I wanted to give you my card. Let me know when you’re looking for representation.” I took her card and said I would. I was a little stunned, but very happy.

And guess what? Six months later I did need representation. And when I emailed her with the reminder that we had shared the van ride in Chicago, she called me back immediately and said she remembered. I explained what was going on with me, and asked if she would be interested in representing me. She had me email her my book, and the next day she called me back and I had an agent. Which is kind of ironic since for the three books I’d written at that time (two unpublished and remaining so, so don’t even ask), I’d sent out nearly a hundred queries on each. Ultimately being rejected every time.

So are conferences worth it? In my case, hell yes. I can’t promise you you’ll find an agent. But I can promise you’ll get a much better picture of the industry, and, depending on how hard you try, will make some connections that could serve you well later.

So that’s my conference story. Feel free to share yours in the comments!

Song of the Day: MURDER INCORPORATED by Bruce Springsteen

Lowering the Bar

by Rob Gregory Browne

WARNING: I’m about to mention politics here, but I do so only to illustrate a point, and am not endorsing or denouncing any particular political philosophy, candidate or party. I will also be mentioning a couple of movies that people around the world love, so hopefully you won’t get upset in that regard, either.

I’ve been scratching my head a lot lately. For several years now, in fact.

But the build-up to last Thursday’s Vice Presidential debate really brought something home for me. I noticed in news story after news story that the party representing one of the candidates seemed to be going out of its way to lower our expectations about the candidate’s upcoming performance. Thanks to a spate of less than stellar media events, it seemed that if she could prove that she could walk and chew gum at the same time, she would succeed in proving that she was somehow worthy of office.

It seems to me that this expectations game is not very healthy. It is indicative, I think, of how far we’ve come in lowering the bar — not just for political candidates, but for nearly every aspect of our lives in this country. We have become a society that celebrates mediocrity. The more you skew toward the middle-to-lower end of the spectrum, the better your chances at success in the marketplace. The decline has been steady but sure, and I think the quality of our lives has deteriorated because of it.

There are several exceptions to this, of course. There always will be, thank God. But lately, those exceptions, I think, are fewer and farther between, and dim in comparison to the exceptions of the past.

I grew up during the seventies. Spent my teen years going to the movies and seeing masterpieces of the era like The Godfather II, Taxi Driver, Chinatown, and Five Easy Pieces, to name just a few. It seemed that during those years, there were many, many examples of fine filmmaking from some of our greatest writers and directors.

Then, along came Star Wars.

When I saw the trailer for the movie, I was, like everyone else, very excited. The special effects were so amazing that I thought, wow, this is going to be one helluva movie. On opening day, I waited in line for close to an hour. And when the movie started, I was thrilled. Saw things I’d never seen before. Just the sight of that Death Star alone was mesmerizing.

But something was wrong. The story itself was really nothing special. The acting, for the most part, was decent but not spectacular. The direction was pedestrian. And some of the dialog was downright laughable.

It was a fun movie, no question about it, but nothing special. And I walked out of the theater somewhat disappointed, thinking it would never recoup its cost.

Yet, to my surprise, within weeks, Star Wars had turned into a phenomenon and is now revered as something of a masterpiece. Many people who grew up without seeing the true masterpieces of the cinema, seem to think that Star Wars is some kind of benchmark that filmmakers — of popcorn fiction, at least — should strive for.

But no matter how much you may love the movie, let’s face it: Star Wars is a decent entertainment but not a great one. It borrows too heavily from better work — particularly Japanese films — and shows little innovation other than the spectacular (at the time) special effects.

In my opinion, Star Wars almost single-handedly lowered the bar for movies. After its surprise success (along with the much better Jaws), we saw Hollywood fall victim to a blockbuster mentality that produced a bunch of big budget "high concept" epics that were all fluff and no substance. A mentality that continues to plague Hollywood even now.

This year, The Dark Knight is being hailed as a dark masterpiece. But in comparison to what? The Fantastic Four? As much fun and as well-executed as The Dark Knight is — and believe me, I enjoyed it — it is not an exercise in cinematic subtlety and is nowhere near the artistic revelation that people say it is.

But then, in comparison to everything else around it, maybe it is. Again, that lowering of the bar, our lowered expectations about what’s coming out of Hollywood these days, makes The Dark Knight’s intelligent — if obvious –storytelling a rarity.

If we look at music, who are the big acts of today? I’m not even sure anymore, because I lost interest in the mainstream music scene several years ago with the advent of the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears. The corporate music industry has become all gloss and no substance. Even stuff we considered fluff back in my day is true artistry in comparison.

When Mylie Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers and American Idol contestants are the best we have to offer the world, I think we’re in serious trouble. I don’t see any Mick Jaggers anymore. Or Lennon/McCartneys. I don’t see any innovation of any kind. All I see are a bunch of posers who somehow have managed to strike a chord, perhaps only because we’re so hungry for something slightly better than average that we welcome these posers with open arms.

Again, there are exceptions — even among American Idol contestants — but for the most part, the mainstream music industry, like the movies, is mired in mediocrity.

The book industry seems to have fared better in this regard, although I’m sure we can all point to novelists we consider less than stellar who are hugely successful. I personally have opened several books that did not compel me to read past the first paragraph or so and some that were, by any measuring stick, just plain bad. And while I’d love to put my own work in the above-average category, I make no such claims and will leave that to others to judge.

But I have to wonder if the successful books of today are as good as the successful books of a decade ago. Or several decades ago.

I suppose you could argue that this all comes down to a matter of taste, that one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure, but what if this gradual lowering of the bar has affected that taste? If we are bombarded day in and day out by below average fare, it seems we have no choice but to find something in the mess that we can actually tolerate and, as a result, we celebrate it as if it’s the second coming.

In keeping with my statement that I think this has affected several aspects of our lives, why don’t we talk about food? The McDonaldization of the world has certainly made me wonder about what we put in our stomachs. I mean, anyone who has eaten a homemade burger with all the trimmings knows full well that the fast food version is, at best, a piss-poor substitute. Yet we flock to these food chains like lemmings.

Despite all the advancements in medicine, the quality of our health care experience has declined. There was a time when you could spend a few minutes talking to your friendly general practitioner and he or she actually knew who you were. Might even call you by your first name.

Now it seems that we’re nothing more than cattle being herded in and out of the doctor’s office (if you can get an appointment), given a quick diagnosis that often requires another visit or a second opinion because the doctor didn’t give us enough quality time to actually get it right the first time around.

And then, of course, there’s the news. The days of the thoughtful and balanced news anchoring of, say, Walter Cronkite and the investigative reporting of Woodward and Bernstein has been replaced by howling partisan hacks who spew nothing but talking points, purveyors of propaganda rather than substance. These people don’t just wallow in shallow mediocrity, they celebrate it. And the now defunct Fairness Doctrine is nothing more than a quaint term they once heard in high school.

If I sound frustrated, I am. All the things I’ve talked about here used to be magic to me. But the magic is long gone.

I’m sure to some of you, I sound like an elitist, or the grumpy old fart who is caught up in the past, when everything was "better." And maybe that’s true.

But while I love the advancements in technology that make our lives easier and, in many ways, more interesting, I’ve found that despite the fact that we have many more choices when it comes to entertainment, food and political discourse, the quality of those choices is merely a shadow of what it was in the past, and we’re now forced to settle for less.

Call me old. Call me a cynical curmudgeon. But that’s just the way I see it.

—-

By the way, I’m on a plane headed to Baltimore right now and hope to see you at Bouchercon. I’ll be on a panel about Criminal Masterminds on Thursday afternoon. Hope you’ll stop by to hear me complain…. 🙂