Unalienable rights

by Alexandra Sokoloff

When I was a screenwriter, the absolute worst thing about the job was having to sell my rights. I was mostly a spec writer – although I did some novel adaptations, I made most of my screenwriting income by writing original scripts and selling them. And the first thing that usually happens when a script is bought is that after the original writer does her contractual drafts, or is bought out of them, she is fired off her own script so that the producers or execs or director or sometimes actor can hire their own writer, or a writer they want to be in business with, or just what they love to call “fresh blood.”

People don’t understand that about the film business. The writer can and most often will be fired off their own story at any time. Nothing you can do about it.

Even worse than being fired was having studios and production companies hold my original scripts hostage – the movie could be going nowhere (because you fired the original writer, you moron) but they still refused to revert the rights. Talk to a screenwriter about this situation and they’ll mostly tell you just about the same thing: it’s like the physical pain of having a loved one imprisoned, and knowing there’s nothing you can do about it. I’ve contemplated murder more often than I like to think.

In fact there’s a story about a certain screenwriter who was in the situation of an original script being held hostage and he stormed the office of a certain studio head, brandishing a really sharp knife – and then threatened to cut off one of his OWN fingers right there on the desk if the studio head didn’t sign back the rights to him. And the story is he got the rights back, more because the studio head didn’t want the negative publicity he’d get from the incident than out of any concern for any bodily harm to the writer. Or maybe he just didn’t want to lose the desk. That’s showbiz, kid.

I’ve thought about that story a lot, recently. Because I so understand the rage, and the willingness to do ANYTHING to get your work back.

A lot, and I mean a lot, of authors now find themselves in the same position. They could be making a living income off e books, but the publishing houses they signed contracts with won’t revert the rights. (I’ll refrain from launching into a tirade about the 1%, but – really? This is okay in a democratic society?)

These days it’s critical that authors think clearly before they sign away their rights, especially e book rights. In the exhilaration of being offered a contract, it’s far, far too easy to just say yes to whatever a publisher is proposing. A mistake you may well regret for longer than you ever want to think.

Myself, I feel extraordinarily lucky that no fingers are going to have to be cut off after all. Although for a while there, I was wondering.

But I finally, finally, finally have the rights back to Book of Shadows and The Unseen in the U.S. Now I can offer these spooky thrillers as e books at the infinitely reasonable price of $2.99, as opposed to the publisher-set price of $11.99. I mean, truly, does ANYONE pay $11.99 for an e book? Even your most highly prized authors? And I have the one-star “Protest Publisher Price Fixing” Amazon reviews to prove it. I was about to kill myself.

The whole structure of the publishing industry is changing. I’ll refrain from using Konrathian imagery featuring sexual acts with amphibians while Rome burns and all that, but this is a massive sea change we’re all experiencing. No one has any idea what things are going to look like next MONTH, let alone next year.

So why is it that writers would want to lock themselves into a contract that would mean someone else holds their e publishing rights in perpetuity? Especially given the clever ways that corporations are able to get around reversion issues?

For a large amount of money up front – sure, I understand it. A bird in the hand, etc. But for a not-so-large amount? Why?

The thing is, when we sign contracts, we’re speculating. We’re debating if this particular deal is better than what we could get elsewhere, or at a different time in the future. Same as choosing mortgage terms when we finance a house. Same as when we decide on an investment strategy with stocks. What’s our comfort level with volatility? Are we willing to take a risk to make a little more?

Don’t you hate it that we have to think about our writing careers as if we’re building a stock portfolio? I know I do. But how can we not? If we are going to make a living with the writing we do, we have to make these choices, weigh the options, decide on our acceptable level of risk, and develop we believe is the best strategy for maximizing our income flow in a constantly shifting business landscape.

Half the room just stopped breathing, right?

So first things first. Breathe.

But please. Don’t ignore the fact that when you sign a contract on a book you may be limiting your income on this particular property – YOUR BOOK – to that one figure, the advance money, for possibly a lifetime. Is it really enough, over the course of possibly a lifetime? Do you KNOW the other options? Do you know how much other people you know are making with other strategies?

Your job isn’t done when you type THE END. The job now is to do right by yourself, and by the work that you’ve just created.

So, I’m curious. DO you pay $11.99 for e books from your favorite authors? Because myself, when faced with that price I will just pay $26 for a hardcover, whether that makes any sense or not.

And – if you just want to vent about the absolute fucking scariness of the business part of writing, please feel free. We’re all there.

– Alex

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Now liberated and available on Kindle, Nook & Smashwords, $2.99!

Two psychology professors and two psychically gifted students move into an abandoned Southern mansion to duplicate a controversial poltergeist experiment – unaware that the entire original research team ended up insane… or dead.

Based on the world-famous Rhine parapsychology experiments conducted at Duke University.

Paperback/e book from Little Brown at Amazon UK

“Destined to become a horror classic.” – Romantic Times Book Review

“Gave this reviewer a bad night’s sleep – what more could you ask of a horror novel?” – SFX

________________________________________________________

Available on Kindle and Smashwords, $2.99 (On Nook, 5/26)

A cynical homicide detective from Boston reluctantly joins forces with a beautiful, enigmatic witch from Salem in a race to solve a series of what appear to be satanic killings.

Amazon US

Nook

Smashwords (multiple e formats)

“A wonderfully dark thriller with amazing is-it-isn’t-it suspense all the way to the end. Highly recommended.” – Lee Child

“Sokoloff successfully melds a classic murder-mystery/whodunit with supernatural occult undertones.” – Library Journal

“Compelling, frightening and exceptionally well-written, Book of Shadows is destined to become another hit for acclaimed horror and suspense writer Sokoloff. The incredibly tense plot and mysterious characters will keep readers up late at night, jumping at every sound, and turning the pages until they’ve devoured the book.” – Romantic Times Book Reviews, 4 1/2 stars

Long time between drinks

By PD Martin

My last PD Martin book (Kiss of Death) was released in Australia in January 2010. That’s nearly two and a half years ago. Last week finally marked the release of another full PD Martin novel—Hell’s Fury. Today I wanted to share a little bit about the long, hard journey from Kiss of Death to Hell’s Fury. And while I have released a novella, a couple of shorts and a Pippa Dee children’s/YA book on Kindle, Hell’s Fury is the first full “PD Martin” book…and it feels like a long time between drinks (cheers, by the way!).

The idea for Hell’s Fury was born nearly 10 years ago. It came to me at a time when I’d been trying to get published for a few years and self-doubt was taking over. I was beginning to think maybe writing wasn’t for me. So, I took some time off. But the ideas didn’t stop and so I jotted them down. By the end of a three-month hiatus, I had four ideas that I liked enough to pursue as full novels — but they were all very different. I narrowed it down to two: one based on a nightmare I had about a serial killer, and one about a spy or ex-spy. I wrote the first few pages of both; deliberated, and then pursued option 1. That book turned out to be Body Count, my first published novel.

Then, my agent and publishers wanted more Sophie Anderson books and so I wrote another four novels in the series. After Kiss of Death I knew it was time to move onto a different character. But what would I write? The spy novel? Something else? I delayed the decision by working on Coming Home (ebook novella). Then I got offered a great corporate gig (interesting and some much-needed cash) and while it was only about 12 hours per week, working those hours in around looking after our then 3yro … well, it was full time for me. I did try to juggle both the corporate job and creative writing for a month or two, but I was simply too tired.

Eight months later, my contract was up … and I still didn’t know what to write. I toyed with two ideas and sent them to my agent. I waited. I went on holidays. Then I got an email to say my agent had passed away.

A few months later I did the rounds with the first four chapters of two novels (one of them was the spy thriller—Hell’s Fury). But Borders had just collapsed, GFC had hit and the agents weren’t jumping for new clients. Times were tough and my sales figures for the first five Sophie books were ‘pretty good’ rather than ‘great’. The consensus was that I’d have to write one of the novels completely and then get back to the agents.

So I did. And it was probably the hardest slog, ever. Was it because I’d had more than six months off and was out of practice? Maybe I’d just ‘lost it’ as a writer? Or maybe this wasn’t a book I was supposed to write. Regardless, I stuck it out. I kept writing, even though nearly every word felt like pulling teeth. Finally, I was done. But there were problems—it would be a massive rewrite for the second draft.

Happily, the second draft came easier. I got into the main character’s head more, worked out new sub-plots and back story. I had new ideas. I was back in the zone. And so, I started thinking maybe this WAS a worthwhile project after all.

I finished it and over the course of the next seven months I sent it out to my top 10 agents. And while I got lots of compliments on my writing, no one signed me up. So then I started questioning myself and those writerly self-doubts reared their ugly head again. I decided I was washed up when it came to “PD Martin”. But, I did have another idea, a very personal story. And so, I moved onto the next project, a women’s drama, while also juggling full-time motherhood and writing projects that would actually help to pay the bills—now.

Ten months later, I’d decided to launch into the ebook space. Could my spy thriller be part of my ebook strategy? Was it good enough? I gave the spy thriller to a voracious reader friend and she promised to be brutally honest. She read it within less than a day and absolutely raved about it. Loved it. Wanted to know when she could get her hands on the sequel. And more importantly, she said it was definitely up there with the best thrillers and spy thrillers she’d read.

My confidence was restored and I sent it to a few other Beta readers. Everyone agreed that the book was really good. So, rather than sending it to my ‘next level’ of agents, I decided to get it ready for self-publication on Kindle. So after a professional edit and a cover design, Hell’s Fury was launched and is now on Amazon and Smashwords.

It feels like it’s been a long time between drinks … certainly Hell’s Fury was many years in the making. But it’s out there and I’m extremely happy with my new ‘baby’. It hasn’t been up very long so has only got one review, but it was a five-star one. And from a reader who’s new to me, new to PD Martin. Happy days!

So, when did you feel full of self-doubt? And did you power through it?

Hell’s Fury synopsis

She lies in an Afghani prison cell, disowned by the CIA and regularly tortured. Seven months into her prison term, a lone operator stages a daring extraction. But who is Decker, the mysterious man behind her rescue?

He claims to represent The Committee, an international group made up of ex-professionals from the CIA, FBI, Interpol, MI5, Scotland Yard, Mossad and ASIS; a private organization that serves and protects where the current intelligence or justice agencies fall short.

Decker also claims to know her long-dead father, and brings to the table an offer she can’t refuse; “Go on one mission, and I’ll tell you about your father’s secret life.”

Her assignment: John Hope. Her orders: kill him.

READING IT FORWARD

by Gar Anthony Haywood

The movie was a big disappointment, but the idea at the heart of PAY IT FORWARD was a sound one. In the 2007 film, a young boy (played by Haley Joel Osment) is inspired by a social studies teacher (Kevin Spacey) to try changing the world for the better by passing every good deed done to him on to three other people. He calls this “paying it forward,” and because this is Hollywood, his demonstration of it changes the lives not only of the boy himself, but the lives of his mother, his physically and emotionally scarred teacher, and an ever-widening circle of people completely unknown to him.

I believe some bestsellers are born just this way.

You read a book and love it so much, you pass word on to several friends. Some of those friends, in turn, alert others to the book, those people do the same, and before you know it, awareness of the book has spread like wildfire.

This is what’s supposed to happen to truly great books. It’s the fate their authors, by virtue of their skillful writing, most deserve.

But this word-of-mouth chain-reaction doesn’t always happen. Sometimes, we love a book enough to shout its praises from the rooftops, all right, but we don’t bother. We either keep our enthusiasm to ourselves, or share it with a mere one or two people, usually by way of a casual reply to the question, “Read any good books lately?” that can all too easily go ignored or be forgotten.

In other words, as readers, we drop the ball. We fail to do our part to make sure that something terrific we’ve read does not go unrecognized or underappreciated. We leave it to others to talk the book up and create an audience for it, as if it’s their job and not ours.

I’m as guilty of this as anyone, but not any more. From now on, I’m going to practice “Reading It Forward”: When I encounter an extraordinarily good book, I’m going to mention it here and elsewhere, and hope the positive word-of-mouth tsunami takes off from there.

Sadly, I can’t do this good deed for friends. Because — just to cite one example — if I were to tell you Zoë Sharp’s KILLER INSTINCT is one of the best thrillers I’ve ever read, the skeptic in you would think I was only saying that because she’s a fellow Murderati. And the Read It Forward experiment only works if the person offering the endorsement can be trusted to tell the truth, unvarnished by personal interest or bias.

So as much as I love and admire the works of Zoë and Stephen, David and Alex and Phillipa, etc., the book I’m going to “forward” today was not written by anyone I know particularly well:

It’s CLIFF WALK by Bruce DeSilva.

CLIFF WALK is a sequel to DeSilva’s Edgar Award-winning first mystery, ROGUE ISLAND, and it’s one hell of a read. I happened to read it as part of the research I had to do for the panel I moderated at this year’s Left Coast Crime Conference, and I enjoyed every minute of it. DeSilva worked as a journalist for over 40 years before he turned to crime writing, and his experience in the field makes his two books about Liam Mulligan, a reporter at a dying Providence newspaper, both rich in detail and highly credible. CLIFF WALK is as dead-on realistic as contemporary crime fiction ever gets, and DeSilva’s dialogue, in particular, is as good as any I’ve ever read. That’s no joke.

Bruce DeSilva may not get rich and famous writing this stuff — but he should.

Questions for the Class: How about you? What book would you like to “Read Forward” for the benefit of the author who wrote it and those of us who — in your opinion, anyway — would be well advised not to miss it?

Happy birthday to me…and Gar!

By PD Martin

Well, today is my birthday. When I first drew 22 May in the Wildcard Tuesday schedule I was going to swap it, but then I thought maybe a birthday post would be fitting. You know, another year older (although today I’m actually only a day older!), have I accomplished what I wanted in the past year, cool birthday presents, you know…easy, right? Plus, I discovered via Facebook alerts that I’m not the only Murderati with a 22 May birthday…hard to believe that both Gar and I were born on the same day!

Anyway, here in Australia it’s night time – and I’ve had a fabulous day. But first, leading up to my birthday I’ve been feeling all reflective about this past year. What have I accomplished? What haven’t I accomplished in the year that perhaps I wanted to? Do you do that?

Here are my runs on the board for 22 May 2011 to 22 May 2012:

My daughter started school (big milestone for us both in this past year)
I’ve gone crazy on the ebook strategy and released two Sophie Anderson short stories (The Missing), two true-crime shorts (When Justice Fails), The Wanderer (Pippa Dee fantasy novel) and Hell’s Fury (the first “PD Martin” book in over two years, and book 1 in a new series)

Things that I expected to happen this year, but haven’t:

Really thought I’d have a new agent by now (my last one passed away nearly eighteen months ago)
I thought I would have edited my mainstream drama novel and have it out at agents (too busy with the ebook stuff, I guess)
Thought I’d be a little bit wealthier (financial wealth, that is … sigh)
I thought I’d be slimmer (double sigh and pat of the tummy that doth protrude too much)

Still, all in all it’s been an excellent year. I’m happily married, loving family life (especially my gorgeous Grace), PLUS I’ve actually been very productive in terms of writing, especially in the last five months.

As for birthday presents. Here’s my catch:

Kindle Touch – sooooo excited!!!!!
Bright pink nightie (yes, from Grace)
Chocolates
Wireless mouse (much-needed)
Massager set (probably also much-needed but I need to sit down and relax long enough to use them)
Cash (to be spent on heart rate monitor with calorie counter, I think)

And I’ve had an amazing day. Hubby took the day off work and we went to see Dark Shadows AND The Avengers. We’re both huge movie buffs but find actually getting to the movies much harder nowadays. Then there was birthday cake, and a stunning dinner. Yes, I’ve been spoilt.

So … how do you celebrate and/or deal with birthdays? How’s your year going so far? And what’s your best birthday present ever? Hopefully Gar will stop by today to tell us about his birthday too!

Happy birthday to me…and Gar!

Keeping It Unbelievably Real

By Tania Carver

Or at least half of her. It’s Martyn here. I’ve just got back from a week away, working hard on things to do with writing but not actually writing itself. I know it’s expected of authors but it’s still time consuming and takes you away from what you’re supposed to be doing.

Not that it wasn’t enjoyable. Far from it. You see, for the past four years I’ve been Reader in Residence for the Theakstons International Crime Writing Festival in Harrogate, England (Or the Harrogate Festival for short, or just Harrogate, for even shorter). I suppose a job description would be the go to guy for events involving and encouraging reader development among the audience and attendees for the Festival. Part of that is the Big Read, which is what I’ve been on the road doing this week.

The Big Read is an annual event. It takes a classic crime novel (Past books have been Chandler’s THE BIG SLEEP, Christie’s MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS and Highsmith’s THE TALENTED MR RIPLEY) and gets readers all over the North of England reading it then coming together to discuss it. It’s become quite successful. The books are supplied by the publisher, the events are held in libraries. I go along and host each session and it can be hard work. I mean not digging ditches hard work, but quite demanding. I have to be on top of things and know my stuff. But it’s also very rewarding. It’s a great opportunity to talk to readers, engage (or re-engage) with novels, to become involved with and celebrate the genre we love and live in.

This year’s book is Reginald Hill’s ON BEULAH HEIGHT. It’s slightly different from the others in that Reg only died this January and he was the first of the chosen authors that I knew personally. But it’s still a classic book. And, for an added frisson, set in the area the Big Read takes place in. Reg was also one of the first special guests at the very first Festival and the first recipient of the Theakstons Lifetime Achievement Award we thought this was a good way to honour his memory. I hope it is. I hope we do him proud.

But that’s just an aside. I wanted to talk about something that arose out of where I was for the weekend. I was booked to do an event alongside Val McDermid, Mark Billingham and Frances Fyfield at the Astor Theatre in Deal, Kent. Now Deal – for those of you who have never been and I’m guessing that’s quite a few – is an interesting place. It’s a little seaside town on the Kent coast, just up from Dover, quite old and well conserved, and seems to have become a retreat for (usually rich and posh but not exclusively) the more bohemian-minded. As a result, there are some genuinely interesting and lovely people there mixed in with some genuine eccentrics. Think Midsommer (of ‘Murders’ fame) by the sea. If that doesn’t work, imagine Patrick McGoohan being chased down the high street by a huge balloon. You get the picture.

I have to say, we were made very welcome. Frances lives down there, as does mine and Val’s agent, so we were squired round to different people’s houses for food and drink. It was like being invited to a party every three hours. Consequently I think we consumed a week’s worth of food and drink (a lot of drink) in a couple of days. And still did our event on Friday night.

And it was meeting one of the town eccentrics that got me – and Mark and Val – thinking.

We had been invited to a couple’s house for coffee. A lovely couple, both archaeologists with fascinating stories, with a beautiful house on the sea front. We sat on the veranda overlooking the beach chatting, drinking coffee and enjoying ourselves very much. We were then joined by someone who I can only describe as a character. Tall, thin, ascetic, imposing. Dressed as if he’d just stepped out of the Weimar Republic and accompanied (or rather accessorised) by a small, dark, ugly dog. He demanded he join us for coffee and came up. Whereupon he, as Shakespeare once said, let loose his opinions. This mainly involved making disparaging remarks, mainly about our clothes and professions. Mark and Val and I were too gobsmacked to reply. He was being quite offensive but we didn’t respond. Not just because we were guests and therefore being polite but mainly because we were doing what all writers do in that kind of situation: filing him away for future use.

Mark, Val and my agent eventually left to make our way to the next hosts, the next house and the next bout of eating and drinking, laughing as we went about the character we had just encountered. My agent asked which one of us was going to be the first to use him in a novel. And that’s when we fell a bit silent. Because we realised that we couldn’t. None of us could use him. He was a larger than life character, a one off, someone who would need enormous toning down to appear in a novel. Someone who, if presented as he was in real life, just wouldn’t be believable to a reader.

And that was a shame, I thought, but it got me thinking. In rather a sad way. It’s one thing to encounter an extreme person and to use that encounter as a source for anecdotes to share with friends. It’s quite another to use that person as a character – or even the basis of a character – in a novel. And I’m not just talking about the morality of it. I think all writers subscribe to Graham Greene’s statement about a writer having to possess that little chip of ice in their heart. No. What I mean is, how many times has a writer – and I’m not just thinking of myself here – been in a situation or encountered a person and thought, ‘There’s no way I could use that/him/her, no one would ever believe me’? Yet the situation was experienced. The person existed.

And in a way it’s a shame you can’t do that. I remember when I was in drama school (I trained as an actor before I became a writer) a director told us why he didn’t have time for Method actors. Method acting, he said, was something bad actors had to work at and good actors did instinctively. And that a slavish adherence to the Method precluded any kind of spontaneity or surprise. ‘How many times,’ he said, ‘have you walked down the street and seen something out of the ordinary? Something unexpected? And what would your response be as a Method actor?’ I knew what he was getting at. There being more to Heaven and Earth than is dreamed off in a realist’s philosophies, as Shakespeare almost once said.

I’ve thought about his words for years. And when I met this character a few days ago and had a realistic novelist’s response to him it made me think of it again. Was he right? Should we be unafraid to present things and people that a reader may find implausible but were actually real? Or should be temper our experiences to what a reader expects and prepare to be met with derision?

I don’t know the answer. I’m not sure any of us do. If anyone can throw light on the subject, please let me know.

I’m off to the North of England for the second and final week of Big Read events now. If I meet any more unbelievably real characters, I’ll let you know.

WORD SPILL

by Stephen Jay Schwartz

Sometimes I have no room for blog-thought.

Sometimes I just let the words spill…

In this little beach town

on any given morning

and especially in the morning

the world is good

The sun shines

and enough people are unemployed or retired

to enjoy the day

Even the bums

on their benches

in their madness

seem content

In the morning

before the bars and restaurants open

(their owners sweeping sand off the steps)

the cafes sell their coffee and

croissants and wi-fi

and the rare business man walks by

in a suit

drawing stares

from the rest of us

in jeans and shorts and wetsuits

driving bicycles and rollerblades and surf boards

The old and young

sporting tattoos

walking their dogs and

grandchildren

It’s a different sound

in the morning

No drunken brawls over

women

Just the parrots

overhead

and the Coast Guard helicopter

and

in the morning

women dancing in the

streets

with babies in their arms.

I have to remind myself

sometimes

that I want to write

that I do it because it’s what I want

to do

that it’s not a means to an end

that it’s not the

work

the deadline

the career

In those times I’ll pick up a pen

and a notebook

and write

what might be mistaken for

poetry

Because I know it won’t be sold or,

likely,

published

it’s just for me.

Because sometimes

I just want to write

I’m never so happy as when I’m

petting a dog

The child in me erupts

I roll, laughing,

an idiot on the

sidewalk

wrestling the dog that only has eyes for me

“I’ve never seen him play like that”

“He usually doesn’t like men”

“Okay, I think it’s time we say goodbye”

The dog usually tires before I do

I’m never so happy as when I’m watching

the pelicans

fall

like Olympic divers

into the waves

their silly shapes and dangling legs

I’m never so happy as when children

catch my eye

And wave

and peek

and hide

and laugh

The laughter is the best

And when parents say

“She’s usually so shy”

“He’s really taken with you”

The kids

usually tire

before I do

I’m never so happy as when I watch

my own children

sleep

In quiet warm dreams

Eyes moving under the lids

Feet twitching

The dog curled between them

On occasion

I’ll have a day

like today

and know happiness

What you bring and what you take away

Zoë Sharp

It’s the goal of any writer to engage the reader in the story to the point where they forget just about everything else. One of my biggest thrills has always been receiving emails or comments from people that go something along the lines of: “You cost me a night’s sleep—I just couldn’t put the book down!”

Trying to create characters that readers can sympathise or empathise with, be repulsed or engaged by, is what we strive for. People tell me they’ve cried over some of the things that have happened in my books. I confess I’ve shed a tear or two myself while reading something that I can really connect to on an emotional level.

But it seems there’s much more to it than that.

Research by the Ohio State University has recently identified what they call “experience-taking” from works of fiction. Basically, this is what happens to people who find themselves closely identifying with and responding to the emotional thoughts and beliefs of characters. In the right circumstances, experience-taking may lead to real changes—albeit temporary—in behaviour and attitude.

In one study carried out by the university, seventy male heterosexual college students were asked to read a Day In The Life Of story about a fictional student. There were three versions of this story—one where the character was revealed to be gay early on in the narrative, one where this reveal happened late in the story, and one where the main character was heterosexual.

The results showed that these test readers reported higher levels of experience-taking from the version in which the sexual orientation was revealed later rather than earlier. It seems that if the students knew almost from the beginning that the character was not like them, it prevented them from really identifying with that character and experience-taking. But those who learned this fact late were just as likely to experience-take as those who read the heterosexual version.

And not only that, but they also reported what is described as “significantly more favourable attitudes towards homosexuals”. Similar results were recorded if the character was of different racial background to the student readers.

Experience-taking can have other subtle side-effects, according to Ohio State. Another experiment involved a story about a student encountering various obstacles—such as car problems, weather, long queues—on his way to vote. The different versions varied by having first-person or third-person narratives, as well as having the student attend either the same university, or a completely different one.

It possibly won’t surprise you to learn that the first-person account by a student from the same university had the highest level of experience-taking.

But it may surprise you to hear that this experiment was carried out on the run-up to the 2008 presidential elections. The participants were all eligible to vote, and when questioned later it was revealed that sixty-five percent of those who read that first-person/same-university story voted, compared to only twenty-nine percent who’d read a different version.

But experience-taking doesn’t happen every time you sit down to read. It only happens when the reader is able to fully immerse and lose themselves in the story, including to a certain extent putting aside their own identity while they’re doing so.

In one example, students were unable to experience-take if constantly reminded of their own self-image by the introduction of a mirror in the cubicle where they were reading. In these instances they were more likely to “perspective-take” instead, meaning they could understand what the character was going through, but without losing sight of their own identity.

Nevertheless, the university concluded that experience-taking could be very powerful because it was an unconscious process.

This information was particularly interesting to me as I write a first-person narrative with my Charlie Fox books and people have always told me how much they identify with the character. Charlie is a survivor, who’s come through some nasty experiences and developed inner strength from them.

I’ve always written primarily to entertain. But if people can take something of this inner strength of character, this determination not to be a victim, to walk tall and equal in an unequal world, then my work here is done.

What about you, ‘Rati? Have you ever found yourself experience-taking or perspective-taking from books you’ve read? Or books you’ve written, for that matter?

This week’s Word of the Week is eidolon, meaning a phantom or apparition, a confusing reflection or reflected image. From the Greek eidos form, from idein (aorist) to see. Also with the same derivation is idol, which has the archaic meaning of a phantom or a fantasy.

Finally, just to let you know that fellow ‘Rati PD Martin has a brand new book out today. HELL’S FURY, book one in her new spy thriller series. Buy it today for $3.99 or £2.55

Please share your laughs with me

by Pari

This was going to be a profound blog about my meeting Former First Lady Rosalynn Carter and reveling in the presence of someone who has given so much for so long on behalf of so many people. I also planned to regale you with stories about how when the Secret Service gets involved in an event, well, things change.

But you know what? I’m pooped. I’m bone tired from having worked on a public happening for months and months and then experiencing the mental, physical and emotional exhaustion of the letdown the day after all that work comes to fruition.

I just don’t have much oomph left in me at all.

However, I do still have the capacity to laugh. And right now I want to fill my cup with as much enjoyment as possible.

Please help me do it. Have you discovered any new websites that tickle the heck out of you?

Here’s one I learned about this weekend. Much of its content is incredibly inappropriate.
When you open these links, be sure you’re someplace where loud incredulous laughter is allowed; I don’t want you to get into trouble at work.

For someone like me who has spent years in PR and marketing, Cracked.com contains many a dream come true. Among its entries are wonderfully horrid ideas realized and turned into products because a bunch of brilliant people didn’t think things through quite as well as they assumed they did. This is the link my friend’s daughter showed me on Mother’s Day. It takes you to unintentionally x-rated toys (Don’t look if you’re not into that kind of thing). This other link, which I found today, brought me great joy. I especially like Spader Man. And there’s this one with the Norman Rockwell.

Now, please return the favor. Send me a couple of urls that please you — silly games, goofy products, jokes, fun videos, whatever — and include the reasons you like them.

I’m at work and can’t play on the computer, but I’ll check them out during the coming week when I get home and need a good laugh.

Thanks in advance.

DUMB ANSWERS TO STUPID QUESTIONS: TOM SCHRECK EDITION

by Gar Anthony Haywood

Brace yourselves, people. You’re about to meet Schreck.

No, not “Shrek.” Schreck. Tom Schreck. This guy:

Tom Schreck is a multi-talented author who’s written on topics as diverse as boxing, business, pets, fitness, psychology, relationships, golf, diners, drive-ins and prison, all for publications that include The Business Review, Fightnews.com, Westchester Magazine, American Health and Fitness, Professional Counselor and Catfancy, among others.

So far he’s written five novels, including his latest Duffy Dombrowski mystery, THE VEGAS KNOCKOUT, which was just released today. Tom’s a graduate of the University of Notre Dame and has both a master’s degree in psychology and a black belt. (Don’t those two things always go hand-in-hand?)

Having formerly worked as the director of an inner-city drug clinic, Tom today juggles several jobs: communications director for a program for people with disabilities, adjunct psychology professor, freelance writer, and world championship boxing official.

Now, about his Duffy Dombrowski mysteries: These books chronicle the life of a not-so-social social worker who’s always on the brink of getting fired. Duffy’s a bad professional boxer by night, part philosopher, part Robin Hood by day, and he’s always all heart as he throws himself into helping those who can’t help themselves.

But the real star of the series is Al — Duffy’s obstinate basset hound, who prefers cheeseburgers for their laxative effect, hates sparrows, and prefers good looking Corgi’s as sex partners. Oh, and Al seems to show up exactly when it matters.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Schreck . . .

Gar: Okay, let’s get the obvious question out of the way first: How many times a day do you get a “green ogre” joke?

Tom: More often I get the knowing smirk and a shake of the head. I love the twenty-something hotel clerks who have no idea that anything else ever existed before the last decade.

I use the stock line, “Hey, I had the name first.”

Gar: Duffy drinks a lot of Schlitz. For those in the audience who think Schlitz tastes like a warm Budweiser poured out of a septic tank, please make your best case for drinking the stuff.

Tom: Man, defend Schlitz? C’mon Gar, how about a little willing suspension of disbelief?

Actually in the early 90’s Men’s Health said it was one of the best values in beer so I tried it and it wasn’t half bad. Since then the company has been sold a few times and I’m not so sure. They now make a sort of “craft brew” that has returned to the original “60’s recipe”. They can’t keep it on the shelves in Milwaukee.

I want to be careful here, I’m still looking for an advertising endorsement deal.

Gar: What fighter, alive or dead, do you most wish could be a fan of your writing, and why?

Tom: John Duddy.

The Derry Destroyer just retired and I had the privilige of judging a few of his fights. He was a blood and guts fighter who the NYC fans love. He’d sell out Madison Square Garden with Irish nationals. His uncle Jackie, his namesake, was the first man killed on Bloody Sunday in Northern Ireland.

John got out of the game a couple of years ago and I admire him for that.

If my books were published in Spanish I’d like Hector Camacho to read them too.

Gar: The previous owners of Duffy’s basset hound Al (Allah-King) were members of the Nation of Islam, yet there’s no indication in the books that he’s partial to bean pies. Why not?

Tom: One word: flatulence.

Gar: How would you compare writing to the sweet science?

Tom: It hurts less.

Both take concentration and the ability to empty your mind while you perform. Boxing asks you to do that while being punched in the face.

Both require strategy and forward thinking.

Writing taxes the cardio vascular system less—have you seen many of our peers at cons?

Gar: What’s the hardest you’ve ever been hit in the ring, and who nailed you?

Tom: I was sparring with a pro that I heard was mad at me. The last time we had got in the ring he hit me in the head and broke a small bone in his forearm. A couple of years later we were in the ring going nice and light which is how a pro will work with a guy like me.

Then he threw one shot that knocked me down so fast that I was disoriented because of going vertical to horizontal so quickly. Oddly enough, because I went down so fast it didn’t hurt my neck that much but my head swam for a little while and I was actually kind of giddy.

Nothing was ever said. It might have been a coincidence. Whenever I see him now we do a big bro-hug.

He was a good pro and at one point was like 15-0.

Gar: If book reviews were judged like fights, what would your record be?

Tom: I’d be undefeated, of course. Four and O. Though one or two might have been split decisions based on who the judges/critics would be.

Gar: They say the kind of dog a person owns says a lot about them. What does your love of basset hounds say about you, besides how difficult you are to house break?

Tom: Gar, my incontinence was a secret between me and you and mostly with the medication I can control it.

As for what it says . . . I think it means I’m a masochist who has the distinct need of being humiliated by long-eared short-legged creatures that believe I was born to serve them.

Gar: Duffy’s boss Claudia Michelin is a real pain in the neck. Considering her last name, in what ways is Claudia similar to a steel-belted, all-weather radial tire?

Tom: They are both inflexible, unattractive and round.

Gar: In your opinion, which game is more fair and honest? Professional boxing or the publishing industry?

Tom: Fair, huh? Like you could fight your heart out and still get screwed by judges? And fair like you could write a book that’s heralded and loved by everyone who reads it but the publisher doesn’t back it and it never makes it to shelves?

At least in boxing you can knock someone out in the ring and they can’t take that from you.

Gar: Complete this sentence: “If I could get ten rounds in the ring with anyone in the world, it would be _____.”

Tom: There’s this guy who does reviews on Amazon . . .

Gar: You and Duffy are both huge fans of Elvis Presley. Who is your favorite among all the King’s leading ladies in film?

Tom: Man, you’re asking me to pick from Ursula Andress, Ann-Margaret and Juliet Prowse? You know what — I’m going off the board — Shelly Fabares.

Gar: Duffy lives in a converted Airstream trailer. Why an Airstream and not, say, a Winnebago?

Tom: C’mon Gar, it’s class thing. Airstreams are THE RV for those of us with style and class.

Gar: Who would you rather have watching your back in a dark alley — Floyd Mayweather or Reed Farrel Coleman?

Tom: Easy, Coleman’s from Brooklyn and wouldn’t fight fair. Plus he might have Ken Bruen with him.

Sure Mayweather is a brilliant counterpuncher but if you crowd him and put pressure on him he can’t turn a metaphor like Reed.

Gar: The plot of THE VEGAS KNOCKOUT involves the Russian Mafia, prostitution, and illegal immigration, among other things. If you could have crammed one more hot topic into the book, what would it have been?

Tom: That’s even easier, I would’ve added more basset hounds.

The Eternal Typo

By David Corbett

Looking for Pari? Fret not. We’ve traded places this week, since I’ll be in the air …

… heading to New York on Wednesday. Look for Pari’s post then.

* * * * *

My first two novels and a brand new story collection are coming out in ebook format tomorrow through Mysterious Press and Open Road Media.

Open Road and Mysterious Press have also re-issued the works of fellow Murderateros Gar Anthony Haywood, Martyn Waites, and Ken Bruen. Click on their names to see the books available.

I’m particularly jazzed about the story collection, for it includes a new story not previously published, the eponymous “Killing Yourself to Survive;” plus “Pretty Little Parasite,” which was included in Best American Mystery Stories 2009; “The Axiom of Choice” (a personal favorite), which appeared in Strand Magazine; “It Can Happen,” which was nominated for a Macavity Award and has been optioned for a film; and several other nuggets that have appeared here and there but have never been collected in one place.

I’ll let you know how to track down the books below. For now, in celebration of the re-issue of The Devil’s Redhead, let me tell you about the most embarrassing—and perversely resilient—goof-up in any of my books. (So far. That I know of…)

On page 301 of The Devil’s Redhead hard cover edition (page 313 in the mass paperback), you will find this curious phrase: “sandstone palavers.”

In isolation, it has a certain surreal/dada/Lewis Carroll quality. If only that were what I’d intended.

I wish I could blame some drudge in the bowels of Random House, anyone but myself. Note to aspiring writers: Never edit when you’re blind with grief.

The word I wanted, of course, was “pavers,” a word I’d never heard until my wife, Terri, used it as we were choosing tiles for a rehab job on our back porch.

Part of the word’s charm was her usage, a kind of giddy almost childlike pleasure that she brought to everything. And when it came time, a few years later, to describe a Monterrey-style décor in a Mexican hotel, it seemed the mot juste.

Except my brain couldn’t find it. It rummaged around in “similar sounding” bucket, and came up with “palavers.” I knew this was wrong, and mentally earmarked the spot for revision once the right word came to me. Unfortunately, it never did.

The reason? By the time of this rewrite Terri had died of cancer. The manuscript for Redhead was purchased by Ballantine six weeks before her death, and I reworked the passage in question after her passing.

She was forty-six, the love of my life, and I was devastated. Anyone who knows that kind of grief knows it turns your mind and memory to slop. The simplest things confound you. Both the inner and outer worlds acquire a smudgy dullness, as though wreathed in a leaden haze, and the only light you see comes in lightning bolts of helpless pain and rage.

Such was my state of mind when the copy-edited version of the manuscript reached me.

When I came to the page in question I saw the copy editor had corrected it, but had been so baffled by my misuse, so unclear on my intent, that she changed it to another inappropriate word, with a question mark in the margin. It felt like a violation, given the word’s link to Terri, her happiness, but I still couldn’t conjure the right word myself. I stetted angrily, once again hoping that before I returned the pages the correct word would come to me. Then, of course, I forgot.

I forgot a lot of things back then.

The typo has proved to be as immortal as a Transylvanian count. In edition after edition, even in the U.K., the lousy little monster remains. (God only knows how the Japanese translation must read.)

I promised myself that, should a new edition appear I would finally, once and for all, erase this blight from the book. But when I sold the rights to Mysterious Press, I didn’t have a Word document I could go in and change at will. All I had was a PDF. But that allowed me at least to place a strikethrough mark on the telltale “la” that turns “paver” into “palaver.” I wrote a note pleading that this error be addressed in the final version of the ebook.

We shall see, said the blind man. I’m not, as they say, holding my breath. Typos, unlike the rest of us, are eternal. And who listens to the author anyway?

I’m sure somewhere, Terri is chuckling way. This is what I deserve, she no doubt thinks, for losing my temper. I wish I could tell her: Oh baby, I know. I know.

* * * * *

So, Murderateros: What’s the worst in-print gaffe you’ve committed, and have you been granted a dispensation, given the right to go back in and tweak the little sucker? Or does it sit there still, a troll beneath the bridge of your otherwise perfect prose?

* * * * *

Now, for a bit of TBSP [Tediously Blatant Self-Promotion]:

Here again is a little author profile video that the team at Open Road Media put together to help publicize the launch.

And here are links for purchasing the books:

The Devil’s Redhead

Done for a Dime

Killing Yourself to Survive

If you haven’t yet tried my work, give one of these babies a spin. I’m proud of each of these books in different ways. I’d be honored and pleased if you decided one of them was worth a look.

* * * * *

Jukebox Heroes of the Week: I’m choosing two, one for each of the first two novels. Music always figures prominently in my books, and these two tunes were signature pieces for Redhead and Dime respectively: Rickie Lee Jones with “We Belong Together,” and Charles Mingus with “Moanin’:”