Author Archives: Murderati

Where Do We Go From Here?

"Grandma, what’s this?" Our grandson, precocious and brilliant, hands me a hardcover copy of Lee Child’s NOTHING TO LOSE, published June 3, 2008. The pages are yellowing, the spine is cracked. The book is well-read.

"That’s what your granddaddy and I used to call a book, sweetheart," I say with a smile.

"A book? That’s not right. Books aren’t hard like this. This is so thick, and heavy. I like my way better."

His way. All-digital, no paper, no binding. Free for download — every "book" ever written at the touch of a button. The terabyte readers, the size of my thumb, are obsolete. Holographic images make reading more like watching a movie — a device the size of a hearing aid allows the brain to process the words into scenes which act themselves out before your eyes. There are no publishing houses. Everything is accessible online, and the online world is very different from what we had when I was writing books.

Sigh. Yes, I’ve done something I don’t normally do — look to the future to anticipate what might happen to our industry. This is obviously a sci-fi version of events (including the virtual grandson.) With the glut of blogs this week decrying Book Expo, Borders laying off 274 employees, Harper Collins announcing by Summer 2009 all of their sales catalog will be 100% electronic, the huge spike in book trailers, my own publisher, Mira, making every front-list title automatically available as e-books, agents using Kindles to plow through their submissions so they don’t have to lug manuscripts back and forth… I think we need to start facing facts.

The future of the book industry is happening, right now.

Book Expo was less well attended this year, understandable for three reasons — one, it’s damn expensive to travel now. Two, the American Library Association meeting is later this month in California as well — a big travel cost to expect the librarians to undertake. And three — the simple fact that so much of our work is done electronically, it’s not cost-effective for publishers to travel to trade shows. Thomas Nelson, always a major force at BEA, pulled out entirely. If you think of the cost of flying your entire sales staff across country, hotel and food costs, parties to be thrown, renting booth space, putting together a slick and user-friendly booth, having your booth staffed with sales folks and authors, oh, and let’s not forget — GIVING AWAY THOUSANDS OF BOOKS — you can imagine just how much that costs a publisher.

Has the trade show gone the way of the dinosaur? Is it obsolete? There’s certainly no lack of criticism, but I see that every year. I went to Book Expo last year, signed in my publisher’s booth, then spent hours wandering around, overwhelmed with the choices, watching sales folks take meetings with bookstore reps, collecting more free books than I could legitimately carry, and in general had a good time. But outside of handing free books to potential readers (who, remember, must PAY for the privilege of being handed said "free" book by registering for the conference) and holding meetings with booksellers, how effective is the trade show? What purpose does it serve, when in reality, the vast majority of connections are done electronically?

Back in the day when we didn’t have the Internet to access and meet our customers, the trade show was a vital aspect of business. I used to be a staffer at our trade shows for Lockheed Martin, and trust me, many, many deals were made, for billions of dollars. Companies were able to meet the people who were submitting proposals, shake hands and look into the eye of the guy you may be awarding a multi-million dollar contract to. That was very, very important. Now, will the faux-closeness of the Internet, we don’t need to worry about it. We can get to know someone very well through their online dealings. You don’t NEED to meet in person, video conferencing takes care of that.

When Harper Collins announced they were going all electronic, I wasn’t especially surprised. Think about it, most of our major organizations have e-newsletters available instead of mailing hard copies. Emails correspondence from several of my "places" have a tag line at the bottom reminding me not to print the email unless it’s absolutely necessary. The greening of our culture is definitely translating to the book industry. And you know there are more changes to follow. If our next President is of a certain ilk, he’s bound to address the environmental concerns with actual green legislation — it might become illegal waste paper, and then where will we be?

Don’t get me wrong — I did a whole blog about the importance of meeting your "people" face to face. I still believe that knowing your editor and agent is vital. That
meeting the upper management and sales staff of your house is very,
very helpful. But the old way of doing business is just that, the old way. You can have a full and successful career without ever leaving your house now. Scary, but true.

We hear admonishments that we need to embrace the new age, but really, haven’t we already started? Look at what happened here at Murderati this week — we as a "web log" AKA a "blog," were nominated for one of the most prestigious crime fiction awards. This is the first time the Anthony Awards have included a website category. Two years ago, blogging in the mystery community was relatively nascent, with only a few major blogs underway. Now there are thousands, and we tell new writers, "You must have a platform — a website or a blog — to get your name out there." It’s become de rigeur to have a blog.

And let’s take a hard look at what a blog is. Remember the great concept from Stephen King in ON WRITING, where he postulates that a writer and a reader are having a telepathic connection? Right now, we’re communication, you and I. You’re reading my words and getting a window into my mind. If you’ve been a reader for long enough, you’ve watched me grow from an unpublished newbie to an author with six books under contract. I’ve changed and grown over the past two years, right before your eyes. And this blog, the instant communication, let’s me do that. Pretty cool, you know?

We’re giving away the content, too. We don’t charge for you to come read our thoughts. We’re grateful that you care enough to stop by on a regular basis, to engage in the comments, to interact with us. Can you imagine if we’d had this kind of unprecedented access to authors one hundred years ago? Heck, five years ago?

This is another important point in this brave new world. Free content. We’re giving away writing tips, giving away marketing tips — seriously, a new writer can spend a day reading through our incredible archives and learn just about everything they need to know about getting published. When will it come to be that we’re giving our books away for free? I mean, let’s be real — my ebook sales aren’t going to be buying my Lamborghini Gallardo anytime soon, but they’re steadily rising as the Kindle becomes more and more popular. Look at Project Gutenberg. This is going to be the norm sooner than you think.

I’m lately come to text messaging and instant messaging — more because I find it a time suck than a value — but it’s the immediacy of communication that’s sweeping our culture. Heck, I don’t get a lot of email from friends anymore — we’re communicating on Facebook and Aim. I’ve been dragged kicking and screaming into this new age, but as media/geek blogger Rex Hammock points out, no one under 24 emails anymore.

This is what we need to be paying attention to — the Echo Boomers (approx. aged 13-27) expect free digital content, easily accessible and downloadable to their portable phones. Can you imagine what their kids are going to expect?

Demand drives the consumer marketplace, and reaching consumers is our goal as writers. The word to pay attention to is instant. I’m not one to extol the virtues of instant gratification for the younger set — I still stick to the parochial belief that perhaps talking to a kid is better than just showing him a movie — but the market is trending younger, and the Echo Boomers will be making the decisions soon. A Gen Xer just took over Random House. The guy is my age, and he’s running one of the most storied publishing houses in history. I know that may sound really depressing, but for me, it’s terribly exciting. So there you go. Time, unfortunately, marches on.

As bad as I feel for the folks who had a hard time at BEA, I’m glad that everyone is starting to pay attention. Changes are sweeping through our industry, many of them for the better. Will the newer generations eradicate the physical book? Quite possibly. We never though vinyl would go the way of the dinosaur. So my earlier semi-joke about my virtual grandson reading through a mental holographic system? Maybe not so far fetched after all.

Sara Lloyd, from Pan Macmillan, published "A Book Publisher’s Manifesto for the 21st Century" in full this week, and it is an absolute must read for everyone, readers and writers alike.

So, go. Let me have it. Am I nuts?

Wine of the Week: 2006 Fuedo Arancio Nero D’Avola — Fruity and young, but tasty!

The Pardox of Choice

Life is a Highway

Though I do write a lot at home, much of the time I prefer to be out in public. Give me a crowded coffee shop and a table and I’m happy. Put that table near an outlet and you might have to get a court order to get me out.

I grab my cup of non-fat hot chocolate (yeah, I know…I’m deluding myself), fire up the iPod and laptop, and get writing. Somehow I get lost in the crowd. Everything around me disappears for a while.

There are times, though, when I hit a point where I need to reflect for a second, or even take a quick break. This is when my perch at the coffee shop becomes even more interesting…time for a little people watching.

There’s a table at this coffee shop I frequent (okay, it’s a Starbucks) where I’ve seen all sorts of things happen: people on a first date, people breaking up, odd sounding business proposals, an art student working on his portfolio, a couple going over the terms of their divorce, old friends talking about nothing. All this at the very same table.

But my favorite place for people watching is in Hollywood only about a 10 minute drive away. Yeah, it’s another Starbucks, but it is well positioned for the weird and wacky. It’s located at the corner of La Brea Avenue. and Sunset Boulevard. For those not from around L.A., that’s about two blocks south of Hollywood Boulevard. and maybe a ¼ mile from the Kodak theater where they hold the Academy Awards these days.

A window seat will get you ringside to Sunset Boulevard. It’s crazy. You’ll see street kids, families, working girls, police officers, regular L.A. types, wide-eyed tourists, women who didn’t start life as women, and backpacking Europeans. There are women and men dressed up for a night of clubbing, there are people who look like they’ve just rolled out of bed, and then there are the ones who dress weird.

A bus once pulled up and dropped off a load of sailors. Several ended up in Starbucks watching the weirdness outside. I overheard that they had just come in on a ship and this was their hour in Hollywood. The Chinese theater was only two blocks away on Hollywood Boulevard, but by then it was too late for them to walk up and check it out.

I once saw Death crossing La Brea. He was wearing a black robe and carrying a scythe. He didn’t seem to be too interested in anyone, so I guess that was good.

Sometimes they even come inside the coffee shop, too…well, Death didn’t. Guess he wasn’t thirsty.

I always get back to writing, though. But I love those visual interludes, love the spying on life. For me, it’s my ideal writing environment.

So what about you? What’s your ideal situation?

Who’s The Boss?

"Uhhhh…yeah, Dusty, we’re gonna need that rewrite by Monday, not next month. And if you could make the hero a Canadian Mountie with a talking cat, that would be great."

by J.D. Rhoades

Not long ago, I was having a discussion with another writer about hardbacks vs. paperback originals. My friend was of the opinion that unless you were first publishing in hardback, eventually readers would start to think of you as a "smaller" writer. They’d start wondering why their favorite writer wasn’t getting that shiny new hardback on the front table of the bookstore.

I had a different take on it. I told my friend that I really don’t think readers care very much if their favorite author’s new one was in paperback original or hardcover, and to the extent they do, they’d most likely prefer the cheaper format. However, I went on to say, reviewers care, and editors care, and they, in a sense, are our customers too.

Which led me to ponder a larger question: who are we actually working for? Those of us lucky enough to be writing full time refer to themselves as "self-employed." But is anyone, really? Don’t we all have someone we have to answer to to get our paychecks? In this profession of writing for pay, who really are our clients, or, to be more crass about it, who are our customers? Is it the publishers? The booksellers? The readers?

I recall when I was studying mass media back in college, a rather pompous professor asked the class, "when it comes to television, who are the consumers, and what is the product?" The answer seemed obvious to most of us. The product, we answered, was the programming, and the customer was the audience.

No, he informed us with a smirk. The customer, he asserted, is the advertiser. The audience is the product. The programming is merely a means to deliver the human product to the corporate customer. If that delivery fails, if the audience of consumers isn’t "shipped" to the advertisers in sufficient numbers, the advertisers look to another network, station, or what have you.

I thought at the time that was a pretty cynical and condescending way to look at the audience, but then I worked in local TV for a while and heard the higher ups talking about "delivering eyeballs" (yes, some of them did talk that way, at least in the 80’s) and I began to see that that really was the mindset.

This also may explain why I don’t watch a lot of TV.

But I wonder sometimes. Is that the way publishers see our role? In their eyes, are we there to deliver the product–the reader–to them? Are we working for them, or for the reader?

I’ve read some book-centric blogs in which the posters and commenters take the attitude that the writer is working for them. This is fine with me, because I really love readers. Hell, I AM a reader. But some of these bloggers, quite frankly, act as if writers are "the help," and woe betide the poor ink-stained wretch who acts a little uppity. On the whole, though, I’m comfortable with the idea that the reader is our true customer.

On the other hand, we first have to get the book published, and our editors are the first people we have to please. And sometimes our ideas of what the reader wants can be different. I’ve been lucky enough to have editors with whom the editorial process is a discussion, a give and take:

"We want you to try this,"
"Ah, no, that doesn’t work. But how about this?"
"Perfect!"

But I’ve also heard horror stories about editors whose attitude was "my way or the highway," much to the chagrin of the author, who has the stomach-knotting choice between giving in or trying to face down someone who can and will get the book canned.

And then there’s the question of marketing. I think it was Joe Konrath who explained that part of the point of one of his grueling self-funded book tours was that it impressed the publisher with how hard he was willing to work, so they put more of their own resources behind him.

So maybe we’re working for the publishers?

The problem with both of these answers–working for the reader to working for the publisher–is that it leads to endless second guessing. Will this scene work for the little old lady from Pasadena who doesn’t like it when characters, even bad guys, use the ‘F-Word"? How about my buddies who like the noir stuff? Will my editor like this one? What’s the marketing department going to do? And first, I’ve got to get my agent on board! Will he/she like it!? OMFG!

Keep that up for long, and you can end up like the centipede in the old poem, who, asked how she managed all those legs, started thinking so much about the process she could no longer move. After a while, having that imaginary crowd looking over your shoulder as you’re trying to write can drive you nuts. Or worse, it can make for bad, stilted writing.

So the only thing I can do is follow the age-old advice "write the book you’d like to read." In other words, as Rick Nelson once sang, "you can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself."

Then pray.

So who’s YOUR boss?

(And since I mentioned paperbacks, this may be a good time to mention that the third Jack Keller novel, SAFE AND SOUND, came out in mass market paperback yesterday. If you haven’t gotten it yet, now’s a good time! Check http://www. booksense. com/ for an independent bookseller near you…
Or it’s at Barnes and Noble, Borders or Amazon .)

Stand by Me: How We Can Help Each Other

Pari Noskin Taichert

(Hi all,
In all the excitement of the nomination, I think we may have gotten our wires crossed about a guest blogger for today. Next Tues. will be Louise Ure and then Tess Gerritsen will alternate with her beginning on June 17.

For today, since I couldn’t find our guest’s post, I’m putting up an article I wrote during the first few months of Murderati’s existence. I think the underlying concepts still ring true.
I hope you enjoy it . . . pari )

A few years ago, I was presenting at a retreat sponsored by A Room of Her Own Foundation. Lisa Tucker, a novelist who’d just made a bundle on her first book, was the featured speaker. In an engaging, but absolutely adamant, way — she exhorted the writers there to buy each other’s books rather than always complaining about how little money they had.

Since then, I’ve thought often about her words. During the last two months in particular — I’ve been to three mystery conventions and the L.A. Times Festival of Books. At each event, I’ve met so many authors and seen so many old friends. There’s no way I could begin to buy all their works.

So, how do I put my money and actions where my mouth is? How do I support my fellow authors, my friends in this industry? How can I encourage new authors/writers? How to do all of this while still plugging away at my own craft and the marketing thereof?

I’m not sure where the balance tips into martyrdom or a lack of generosity. Though Lisa suggested buying books as a sign of support, I simply can’t do that as much as I’d like. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to read everyone’s works — my life is far too scattered and too full to take hours for that pleasure right now . . . alas.

But I think it’s important to consider how we can tangibly help each other in this odd profession we’ve chosen.

Here are a few ways I’ve found to do it.

I hope some of you respond to this blog with the most satisfying methods you’ve found to support your fellow authors.

1. Post formal reviews and positive comments about someone else’s books on DorothyL, 4MA and other listservs. Do the same for review sites such as Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble etc.
Here, it’s important to be honest; I think readers of these electronic missives can smell backscratching as opposed to sincerity.

2. Cross-sell at joint booksignings. One of the most enjoyable hours I ever spent was at the LATFOB when THE CLOVIS INCIDENT first came out in ’04. I sat next to Laura Levine. We cross-sold each other’s books and had a blast. We also became fast friends that day.

3. Take your friends’ promo pieces to the conferences/conventions you attend. I try to do this as often as I can. Their bookmarks/postcards don’t weigh much and, hey, someone might find a new author to read.

4. Ask your library to carry the books of authors you care about. Though the Albuquerque Public Library system is wonderful, I often can’t find books by friends from smaller publishers — or who don’t have major name recognition.

4.a. Ask your favorite bookstore to carry the books of authors you care about. ‘Nuff said.

5. Offer marketing suggestions. Often we can’t see our own best asssets. A fresh pair of eyes might come up with a great idea that can help a friend get the word out. I’ve done this for other people and it’s been wonderful to see that click — the epiphany — when the idea is hot.

6. Talk-up authors you like. If you do, they might get invited to present at conventions/conferences/civic groups/signings. Your good word might land them an interview on television or radio. I do this frequently.
I know it’s tempting to save all our leads for ourselves, but it also feels marvelous to share. At the very least, tell other readers you know about works you enjoy.

7. Find ways to cross-promote. Celebrate friends’ successes. We’re doing it right here on this blog. It’s wonderful not to feel like you’re alone on the publishing path.

8. Show newer authors the ropes (if they want the info). I try to be accessible to newer authors. If they want the benefit of my meager experience, I’m glad to help them avoid the mistakes I’ve made — and gain from my smarter efforts.

9. Use your websites to promote others. Yep. This gets into link exchanges and that kind o’ thing. I think these are moderately useful. One problem, though, is that strangers ask you to link as well. Personally, I don’t do that. If I don’t know the author or his/her work, I won’t exchange links because it doesn’t feel honest to recommend someone in that way.
Related to this is posting on other authors’ blogs. It’s a good way to converse and help them attract more posters.

10. Commiserate. There are times when all another author needs is someone who understands and who can keep what’s said — or written in an email — confidential. I know this has been one of the biggest ways I’ve been able to support friends in the business. They’ve shown me the same kindness.

The ways I’ve found to support other authors abound. The ones I mention above are those that came to mind while writing this piece.

To me, it’s important to try to see beyond our own careers and to be positive citizens in our mystery community. If we do, we’ll strengthen our genre and create goodwill every step of the way.

Please, if you have other ideas about how we can support each other, post it here. We can all learn from your experience. I know I’m ready for more ideas.

cheers,

Pari

We’re honored

by Pari

Saturday Afternoon, May 31, 1:33 pm:
I’m trying to get one of my children dressed for a cello recital. I, of course, have just stepped out of the shower. It’s hot in Albuquerque. Our family is one of two in the entire city that still hasn’t turned on the air conditioning, so the front door is wide open. The doorbell rings. Wrapped in a curtain, I peek out of the window in my office and don’t recognize the car parked in the driveway. DON’T ANSWER IT! DON’TANSWERIT! I screech.

An adult calls my name, pronouncing it correctly which means the person knows me. I put on an oversized Tee, my hair still dripping.
"Do you have the invitation to Sean’s birthday party?" a parent of one of my kid’s friends asks.
"What birthday party?"
"The one tonight."
"Oh, crap."
We search and can’t find the invite. We call another parent who threw hers away last week.

(Did I mention that my husband is at work? Yes, he’s at work on a Saturday.)

Our uninvited guest begins to back out of the front door, horror on her face, as she registers the condition of our house. We plan to make pillows out of all the dog hair on the floors and I think we could feed several homeless people with the crud on our kitchen counters . . .

Welcome to my world.

With three minutes to spare before leaving the house at 1:42, I turn to the Inbox. This is usually a stupid impulse, akin to gambling at a casino or using that penny to scrape a Scratcher. Most of the time I DON’t win.

But every once in a while . . .

There it was: The note from John Purcell, the Anthony Chair, telling me that Murderati had been nominated for an Anthony Award for Best Mystery Website for 2007. We’re in astounding company:
* Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind — Sarah Weinman
* Rap sheet/January Magazine — J. Kingston Pierce
* Murderati — a Writer’s Blog
* Stop You’re Killing Me — Stan Ulrich & Lucinda Surber
* Crime Fiction Dossier — David Montgomery

Do you notice ours is the only one that doesn’t have a single name associated with it? We’re almost a democracy here.

More than two years ago when Naomi Hirahara and I spoke about starting a blog, I had no idea it would morph into this living creature that creates and nurtures community in the mystery world. I simply wanted the blog to be different, to offer fresh content daily and to provide real fodder for thought and discussion. I hoped it would help market our books ( and J.T.’s writing enough to get her first contract). We hit the ether publicly on April 3, 2006.

J.T. is the one to credit for the look of the site. She taught herself how to design the blog and did/does an astounding job. She’s the one to credit for the name, too, though we batted around some great ones (I was pushing for Murderama).

Blogging isn’t for everyone. It takes tremendous commitment and time. We worry when people don’t comment, when our numbers aren’t growing as fast as we’d like.

In two years, we’ve had 17 regular contributors (no particular order here).
Zoe Sharp Louise Ure Alex Sokoloff JT Ellison JD Rhoades Brett Battles (congrats on the Barry nomination!!!) Robert Gregory Browne Toni McGee Causey Michael Maclean Naomi Hirahara Simon Wood Ken Bruen (congrats for the Anthony nod for Best Paperback Original) Elaine Flinn Deni Dietz Jeffrey Cohen Paul Guyot et moi.

Yeah, that’s a lot. Believe me, it hasn’t always been easy. There have been flare-ups, ego conflicts, disagreements, emails flying back and forth, friendships threatened with dissolution. I’ve had to play Mama Bear when all I really wanted to do is run away screaming.

BUT
More often, there has been a wonderful camaraderie among the very different writers/personalities on this blog.

I think we’ve got something special here, a true and honest exchange. The crew we have now — including Tess Gerritsen who joins us on June 17 — gets along well. We’ve found our groove.

Thank you to everyone who nominated us. Thank you to everyone who visits this site.

We are truly honored.

P.S. I hadn’t planned on going to Bouchercon this year; my hubby is tired of all my travel. Now I’m trying to talk him into letting me fly out for a day or two. If anyone wants a tired New Mexican to sleep on her hotel room floor for a night, let me know. I want to bask in this joy.

oh, the things they don’t teach in school

by Toni McGee Causey

I broke my brain this week. So for lighter fare, here are

random observations on the little things that might save y’all
some trouble:

1) Nothing
good will ever come from someone saying, “Hey, I think this has gone bad. Taste
it and see.”

2) “I
couldn’t even do this if I was sober,” is probably not a great thing to say to an
officer.

a. Or
on your first date.

3) If
you have to check off, “Have been recently committed for mental instability” on
the form, they’re probably not going to let you buy the gun.

a. Unfortunately,
that’s not true of you asking, “Now which way do the bullets go?”

4) The
very toddler who rarely speaks to tell you when he needs to go to the restroom
will be the child who will shout at the top of his voice that, “MOMMY I HAVE TO
GO POOOPOOO NOW.”

a. While
in a department store.

b. During
Christmas rush.

c. When
you’ve finally made it to the cash register.

5) This
is the same child who’ll be mortified by your clothes when you go to his sporting
events.

a. You
will be tempted to wear the ugliest shirt known to man.

b. Go
for it.

6) The
likelihood of you hearing the words “Mom! I can’t find the snake!” is greatly
increased when you’re on the toilet.

7) “The
bridge is out” sign is probably not a suggestion.

8) The
person who tells you up front that he or she is an asshole is probably in the
best position to know. Listen.

9) Someone
is going to notice when you try to steal a pool table if you strap that sucker
to the top of your car.

10) Those
wacky IRS agents might take exception to you addressing your return to: Ha ha,
you bastards.

Okay, your turn: random observations of something dumb that people
do.

~*~

WINNER FROM LAST WEEK — Julie P. !!

Like last week, I put the names in a hat and
my neighbor chose. So Julie, please email me at toni [dot] causey [at]
gmail [dot] com with your
address and I’ll get your signed copies mailed out to you this week!

(A SEPARATE CONTEST running on my personal BLOG today — for a $15 B & N certificate, plus a "shuck me, suck me, eat me raw" t-shirt – through tomorrow, only. Check it out here.)

Stream of Consciousness from an Airport

by J.T. Ellison

Have you ever noticed that we writers are a little strange? Here’s a great example for you…

I’m sitting in the airport at the moment, one of my favorite places in the whole world. There are so many PEOPLE around, so many strangers, big and thing, short and tall, black and white and hispanic and asian (and I swear to God, an albino) blonde and brunette, male and female and kids, and babies, lots of babies. I know it’s rude to stare, but how can you not, when there are all of these different people around — all shapes and sizes and colors and smells and length of facial hair?

There’s the granola couple with the waist long dreadlocks and their newborn, the cheerleaders with their sweatpants rolled just over, just barely covering their butts, the Amazon woman — she has to be 6’6" is she’s an inch, and thin as a reed. Everyone wears different clothes and shoes and carries multiple bags and briefcases bags and look happy or sad or tired or annoyed . . . Oh, my, she really needs to put a sweater on. Ouch, that eyebrow piercing must have hurt like hell, why would you do that — really, eyebrows are so sensitive, just try getting them waxed.

It’s so strange because I’m in a city that I haven’t visited in at least ten years yet I keep imagining I recognize people walking by, because if you stop and think about it, as diverse and unique as people are, everyone still looks just like the people you know back home, I bet there’s some studies on why we ascribe certain facial affects and features onto strangers to make them feel like home.

That redhead really needs some aspirin, she’s been holding her head for five minutes now. Can you tell me why, exactly, women wear four inch heels and run late to their flights? The sweet-faced Finnish blonde is chatting with the heavyset older woman and you can see that she’s thinking about her mother as they chat. I wonder if she’s still alive?

Everyone is so busy, busy, busy, working on their computers or phones or blackberry or iPods — there really is nothing better than an elderly hippie with an iPod. Do you think they’re listening to ABBA or maybe some Stevie Nicks? That’s what it sounds like to me.

Oh, I like those sneakers, I wonder where I can find them? Can you tell me why there are wheels on a bag that’s only a foot square, because really, how heavy can you make a bag that could only carry a brick, tops?

Why aren’t more people reading? There’s a woman with a Dan Brown and a guy across from her reading something with a swastika on the front cover, and I’ve got Michael Chabon’s THE YIDDISH POLICEMAN’S UNION in my bag and I’m hoping I run out of battery soon so I have an excuse to turn this off and quit working and get back to the book, because it’s really quite good.

Do you ever notice how people don’t touch anymore — outside of the chicks who wear the four inch heels and rush to meet their planes, because they have no choice but to cling like a burr to the man (invariably bleached blonde tips on his spiky gel laced hair) walking next to her as they miss their gate and have to run the other direction. I shouldn’t get so amused at other people’s expense, karma’s going to bite me on the butt and sit me next to a crying baby for being so damn uncharitable to that poor girl but come on, honey, if you need to run take off the stupid shoes already.

Law and Order is playing on the television instead of twenty-four hour news stations, and everyone who isn’t reading (and that would be more than 3/4) are watching it blankly. I wonder how many times we’ve all seen this particular episode?

Mmmm, I smell fried chicken, real down-home fried chicken that smells so incredibly good, and there, they called my flight, I better go.

Faithfully transcribed from Midway, Chicago. Punctuation layered in later.

And so it goes. I love airports, and I love traveling, because somewhere in this little exposition there’s a gem waiting to be seized upon. After rereading it, I know what it is, and I’ll use it in my new book.

I’ve had to travel more and more in support of my books — to conferences and to signings all over the country. A simple four day conference is enough to exhaust me for a week anymore, which is pretty damn sad. Happily, I’ve wrapped up the last tour stop for my debut, and now get to focus on the next book. I’m curtailing my travel for this one, picking my dates very carefully. I’ll do some travel, but nothing as extensive as my 12 states from November to May. It’s just too much.

Now, enough of my babble, let’s talk about Mayhem in the Midlands. This is an exceptional conference, filled to the gills with READERS! The Omaha Public Library puts this one on, and from the minute I checked in I had a good feeling (maybe it was the book bag with an Agatha Christie novel in it?) One thing I’ve learned in the past six months, I prefer the reader conferences to the writer’s conventions. Not that I don’t love hanging with my friends, but that doesn’t get me in front of readers, which is where my bread and butter is. Mayhem did an amazing job this year: the guest of honor, Alex Kava, worked with the conference organizers to develop a full-day forensics track with experts from the Douglas County crime lab, C.L. Retelsdorf and David Kofoed, the ADA from Douglas County, Leigh Ann Retelsdorf (siblings, not spouses…), and Dr. Melissa Connor, an incredible woman who handles excavation of mass graves, and in her spare time runs the Forensic Program at Nebraska Wesleyan. An embarrassment of riches, no doubt.

I was lucky enough to participate in two panels on Forensic Friday, both discussing forensics in our books and the realities of researching crime scene minutiae. It was enlightening, and a lot of fun. There was a presentation over lunch that covered a case handled by the Douglas County Crime Lab and prosecuted by Leigh Ann Retelsdorf — Jessica O’Grady — whose body was never found, but her killer is in prison for life. It was an incredible and intimate view of a forensics-laden case, replete with blood spatter analysis, detailed drawings, photographs and diagrams, including a 3-D video reenactment of the crime scene. Suffice it to say I left lunch with a book already underway.

I think what I liked so much about this weekend was the vibe. The authors attended the panels with the readers, everyone participated, there was no posturing or pitching or ass-kissing, just genuine interest in each other. The line-up was stellar, and I was honored to be able to do a day of drive-by signings with my dear friends Shane Gericke, Rick Mofina, J.A. Konrath (aka James Patterson), Alex Kava and Erica Spindler (yes, it was an INCREDIBLE day!) then walked into the hotel and met toastmaster Jeff Abbott, who is as cool as his books, and makes a pretty good toast. I finally met Barbara Fister and Doris Ann Norris, and Carl Brookings, and Charlaine Harris!!! Jan Burke was there, her always gracious self, toting her incredible, vast knowledge of all things forensic. I got to hang with Libby Fischer Hellman and Marilyn Meredith, Sean Doolittle and the irrepressible Trey Barker, waved at least five times to Toni Kelner, ate with the adorable Chris Everhart and his writing partner, Gary Bush, and the elegant David Walker, got to spend some actual quality time with the always gorgeous and surprising Twist Phelan. I missigned Anthony Neil Smith’s copy of my book (duh, it’s NEIL), traded quips with my bud Chris Grabenstein, watched Donna Andrews work the room like the pro she is, put a face to the great name Honora Finkelstein and met her writing partner Sue Smiley.

Deb Carlin, Alex Kava’s business manager, had the four days scheduled like a well-oiled machine, and it was such a pleasure to be directed by her! There were four different booksellers in the bookroom, all of whom were adorable and kind, especially Becci West from I Love A Mystery in Mission, Kansas — the skull with the sunglasses was too much!

There was more: more people I met for the first time, more hands shaken, contacts made, laughter joined, but you get the picture. All in all, this was a great con, one that I’d be honored to attend again.

The best part though? I came home with a plethora of new ideas. Stuff to work into my current WIP, an entire book I want to do… and a true sense that I’m finding my place in all this. It’s scary to fly across the country to meet 200 people you don’t know, to have three panels to present, to be on for four days straight. But I’d go back tomorrow, it was just that good. Pictures here!

So what makes a good conference for you? And if you answer in stream of consciousness, I’ll give extra points — actually, anyone who comments today will be entered in the drawing for an ARC of my newest novel, 14.

Wine of the Week: I was introduced to this one by the lovely and talented Erica Spindler (another amazingly cool author you must read) Seghesio Old Vine Zinfandel — rich, big and spicy, a fantastic partner with the soft-as-butter fillet I had Saturday night. (and yes, I’m on a zin kick!)

The Constant Journey

by Zoë Sharp

I was beating seven bells out of a large rock with a pickaxe when the courier arrived. He was Polish – the courier, not the rock – although that fact has no bearing and I mention it purely for colour. The rock was pure Cumbrian. Solid, taciturn, and not for shifting without the judicious application of a little brute force in tandem with a lot of dead ignorance. Gardening would be so much easier round here if we were allowed to use just a small amount of explosives.

The Polish courier had tracked down our almost impossible address to deliver a box bearing the label of the distributor for my UK publisher. Even with the seals intact, I knew what it contained. And, for the first time, I found myself strangely reluctant to open it.

The new book.

It’s often the case that, by the time a novel finally comes out, you’re a bit fed up with it, but this latest one just won’t stay down. As I think I might have mentioned, the copyedits were a nightmare, and just when I thought it was done and dusted, I’m currently wading my way through yet another set of page proofs that contain strange additional bits of text, the origins of some of which are a mystery to me.

Then I opened the box.

And, what can I tell you? I think it looks gorgeous. They look gorgeous. The box contained not only the hardcover of the new Charlie Fox book, Third Strike, but also the mass market paperback edition of Second Shot, with its completely redesigned cover. And here they are. See what you think:

All this is somewhat apt at the moment because I’m supposed to be leaping headlong into the next book in the series. In fact, I’m supposed already to have leapt. Instead, I’m suffering from what I seem to remember a fellow ’Rati member describing as the yips.

How the hell do you write a book? I’ve written quite a few of the damn things now, and yet, every time I’m faced with that file called ‘Chapter One’ I get this terrible attack of nerves.

The stupid thing is, I know this one is a pretty strong idea. I went through the same processes I’ve been through before. I always start out by writing the flap copy – the bit that would go on the inside flap of the hardcover jacket. The bit you read just to see if the basic premise works, after the cover design or the title or the author’s name has grabbed you enough to actually pick the book off the shelf and open it. This half or two-thirds of a page is what I initially write and send to my agent, my editor. If the idea at its most simple doesn’t fly for them, there’s no point in spending any more time on it. Alex talked about loglines for movies, or the elevator pitch for the book. This, for me, is the next stage.

And once I’ve had some tentative feedback, I work up the outline into something more detailed. At this stage I throw in everything I’ve got. Not just the dramatic high points and the scenes and situations that hit me hardest, but even the odd line of dialogue. And I keep going over it, layering stuff in, building up the connections, trying to cut down my cast but bind them more firmly to each other with each interwoven strand.

With a first-person narrative, so much happens off camera. I put that in, too. I work out what happened to all the other players before my main character so much as sets foot on the first page. But, while I need to know who my cast is, I don’t spend huge amounts of time giving them complete biographies. This is the first time Charlie is being introduced to most of these people. She comes to them largely without preconceptions, so I do, too. And when she meets them for the first time, their quirks and foibles and strengths and weaknesses will make themselves apparent by what they say and do in any given situation, not by what I’ve decided in advance will be their given path. Mostly, I know what’s going to happen, but after that I’m as interested as anyone else – I hope – in how these people react to the events in which they find themselves.

In the case of Third Strike, I knew it was going to be about Charlie’s search for respect. Partly from her peers as she’s coming back into a new working environment after serious injury. (What did you say about not the perils of making your main protag sick, JT? Damn! Charlie spent half of Second Shot on crutches.) And partly from her parents. Her father, an eminent consultant orthopaedic surgeon, has never approved of what she does and worries that sooner or later Charlie’s ability to kill will be the end of her. Her mother, a highly strung former magistrate, just worries.

All through the books they’ve been lurking in background – peripheral characters, a hint to Charlie’s origins. Not just what shaped her early views, but what she was trying to escape from, to rebel against, when she first joined the army. Her father, in particular, has always been coldly disapproving of her choice of career and lover, but he’s played little more than a cameo role before – even if he did steal every scene he was ever in.

So this time I wanted to bring them both to the forefront and what better way than to have them suddenly require the services of a bodyguard. I thrust the pair of them into a pretty ugly situation and sat back to watch how they coped with experiencing the kind of danger, the kind of life-and-death choices that their daughter has to make on a daily basis in her professional life. The one they’ve never seen. The one they’ve never wanted to see. And as for Charlie, when she’s already on the back foot, feeling unsure of her capabilities in a strange job, in a strange town, what could be worse than having her own parents watching her every move?

Nobody remains unchanged by the events of Third Strike. In fact, for Charlie things may never be quite the same again. And her parents both go on their own emotional journey from which they emerge different people. Perhaps even people they would rather not have become.

So, with the new book, I want to move on. To move Charlie on. Yes, she gained the respect she was after in Third Strike, but in the next instalment she realises she’s looking for more than that. She’s looking for redemption. And I have the idea that how she goes about finding it will run the risk of alienating her from the people who mean most to her. The people she means most to.

So I have several questions from all this. Would your worst nightmare be a Bring Your Parents To Work day at the office, or would you love it? Do you feel series characters have to remain constant, or do you want them to change and grow as the series goes on? And how do you get stuck in to a new piece of work? What tricks do you employ to get past that terrifying first blank page.

This week’s Word of the Week – an accidental find caused by a surfeit of vowels during a game of Scrabble – is anomie, meaning a condition of hopelessness caused or characterised by breakdown of rules of conduct and loss of belief and sense of purpose. Also, anomic – lawlessness.

A Man With a Gun

by Robert Gregory Browne

Good morning, class.

I was talking to a friend recently who loves language, writes poetry and
short stories and wants very much to be a novelist. She has, in fact,
started a novel, but somewhere around the middle point she ground to a
halt.

“I’m stuck,” she told me.

Welcome to the wonderful world of writing, I almost said. Instead, I
gave her the advice offered by the master, Raymond
Chandler:

"When in doubt, have a man come through the door with a gun in his hand."

Now, since Chandler wrote mysteries featuring private eye Philip Marlowe (the most brilliant of which is The Long Goodbye),
I assume he was literally suggesting that you bring in a man with a
gun.

But Chandler was a smart guy and an incredible talent, so I have a
feeling he meant much more than that.

Your Man with a Gun doesn’t necessarily have to be armed
and dangerous. If we think figuratively, he can be anything, from a
plot point to a sudden change in weather. The point is to bring in some
new element — possibly from left field — something unexpected that gets
the story rolling again and, more importantly, gets your creative
juices flowing.

I talk about this because I was recently entering Act II of a new book
and for a few days there, was desperately searching for my own Man
with a Gun. It took me awhile to remember a particular plot point that
I had thought up before I even started writing the book, but once I
did, the story once again blossomed and I was on the move.

The notes for my own Man with a Gun read like this:

Bag of clothes
Meeting of Brass
Blackburn reassigned
Carrots

Now, I know, none of those sound even remotely like a man with a gun
but, trust me, for the purposes of my story they were. Those four things
collectively created a plot point that propelled me forward,
probably for a good thirty pages or so.

THE WHAMMY CHART

In Hollywood, there’s a producer named Larry Gordon who supposedly
created (and I have no real verification of this) what’s known as a
Whammy Chart. The idea of a Whammy Chart is that about every ten
minutes or so in an action movie, you need a Whammy event. Something
big happening that shifts the story a bit and keeps the audience
interested. It could be an action beat, a sex beat, a relationship beat
— whatever. Just something that kicks up the stakes and keeps things
moving.

Some laugh at the Whammy Chart, calling it ridiculously formulaic, but I think it’s a pretty good idea.

In novels, you might want to have your beat, your plot point, your man with a gun happen every, oh, forty or fifty pages.

This is just a ballpark, of course. Every novel, every story is
different, but I think it’s important to continually keep things
hopping, moving forward, progressing toward the hero’s goal. Give your
readers unexpected twists. Or you may want to finally fulfill a
promise you’ve made in your earlier pages and give them an event
they’ve been anticipating or dreading, like the death of a character or
that first kiss in a budding relationship.

The real beauty of the Man with a Gun/Whammy Chart is that it helps
you keep from getting stuck. Even if you don’t specifically plot out
what those Whammy events are, when you do get stuck, you know it’s time for one.

Raymond Chandler and Larry Gordon. Very smart guys.

Now the question for the writers in the crowd (and I believe there are more than a few). What do YOU do when you’re stuck? What’s your favorite man with a gun moment?