Of books and blurbs

By Allison Brennan

Book Two in the Lucy Kincaid series, KISS ME, KILL ME, went on sale Tuesday, the same day as J.T. Ellison’s SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH, of which I bought two copies — one for me, one for my mom. I gave my mom her copy today at my book signing and she will probably finish it long before me. (Probably? Most certainly, because I still have THE IMMORTALS to read . . . now I have both staring at me from my To Be Read Next shelf.)

I read J.T.’s debut book, ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS, as an ARC. I don’t remember exactly how this came about, except I think she asked me if I’d read it when we met at the first Thrillerfest in Arizona.

(As an aside, I would love to have a reunion Thrillerfest in Arizona. There was something about that conference that was so magical, I want to do it again.)

I remember where I started reading the book–in an airport. I don’t remember why I was in the airport, or where I was going, but I vividly remember drinking a beer while quickly flipping pages wanting to know what happened next. J.T. had me hooked.

I never offer a quote to books I don’t read, which means I don’t blurb a lot of books because I don’t have as much time to read as I used to. Too many times, I’ve said, “No promises, but send me the book and let me know when you need a quote” . . . and then the deadline passed and I never made it. I feel bad, but what can I do? I can’t quote a book I haven’t read, and J.T. is the primary reason for this rule.

More of my readers have THANKED ME for recommending J.T.’s book than any other book I’ve blurbed. They tell me they picked it up because of my quote, and were looking forward to the next.

I hadn’t been sold on the power of blurbs until I had multiple emails about J.T. I think it helps that we write in loosely the same genre (suspense) with a strong female protagonist. Readers who like my stories would be naturally attracted to J.T’s Taylor Jackson. But it also brings home the fact that if I don’t read a book and know what’s between the pages, I can’t in good conscious tell my readers it’s a great book. Because if it’s not, they’ll be disappointed, and the next book I blurb they won’t trust my recommendation, which doesn’t help anyone.

Anyway, while I haven’t read SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH (yet), I’m confident that J.T. has written a story that is as good or better than her other Taylor Jackson books.


I’ve been blessed by three generous authors who have given me a quote: Mariah Stewart on my debut novel THE PREY, Lisa Gardner on SUDDEN DEATH, and Lee Child on LOVE ME TO DEATH. I appreciate all of them for taking the time–I know how valuable a writer’s time is.


KISS ME, KILL ME is my sixteenth novel, the second in my Lucy Kincaid series. Writing a series is a lot different than writing loosely connected books with different heroes and heroines, but I’m really enjoying the change. I can grow Lucy and her boyfriend Sean Rogan over time, not needing to wrap everything up in a neat bow at the end of the book. Since the suspense plot is always primary in my stories, having this freedom with character is invigorating. I’ve already done two “firsts” with this series. In book one, I wrote my villain in first point-of-view. In book two, I didn’t go into the villain’s POV at all–a definitely first for me, because I love writing the villain’s point of view. And now I’m in the middle of book three, IF I SHOULD DIE, and while still a romantic thriller, the story backbone is more a true mystery . . . and there’s no serial killer. (Yes, someone . . . or some two . . . die, but no serial killer. SEE NO EVIL, TEMPTING EVIL and FATAL SECRETS aren’t serial killer books, either, so this isn’t a “first”, but it still feels different.)

Now, a little blatant self-promo for my new book . . . RT Book Reviews gave it four-and-a-half stars and said, “Lucy Kincaid’s saga continues in the second installment of Brennan’s riveting new series. This time Brennan tests her heroine’s emotional and intellectual strength on a missing-teenager case that horrifically intersects with a twisted serial killer. Lucy continues to be a fascinating and enticing character, and her ongoing development adds depth to an already rich brew of murder and mystery. Brennan rocks!”


And, two weeks ago, LOVE IS MURDER, my digital exclusive novella, hit the New York Times e-book list. I was stunned, but of course thrilled.

And the winner of Season One JUSTIFIED DVD set from my blog two weeks ago is . . . TRACY NICOL! Congratulations. Please email me at allison@allisonbrennan.com and I’ll ship a set out to you!

Now my question of the day: what was the last book you bought because of an author blurb? Have you ever bought a book because of an author quote only to be disappointed? Have you discovered a new favorite author because of another author’s recommendation? Comment for a chance to win a copy of LOVE ME TO DEATH, the first book in the Lucy Kincaid series.

First chapters

by Alexandra Sokoloff

Last post I went on a rant about VOICE because of the first chapter submissions (first three chapters, really) I was reading for a conference, and today, because it is cold, I am going to rant some more about FIRST CHAPTERS in general.  

There is no question that reading a bunch of – well, anything – in a row gives you a good idea of what to do and not to do in executing that particular thing.   And I maintain I can’t teach anyone to write, but I sure can point out the problems I’m seeing over and over and over again.  So here’s a brief list. 

1. Inexperienced writers almost inevitably START THEIR STORIES IN THE WRONG PLACE.

Now, please, please remember – I am not talking about first drafts, here.  As far as I’m concerned, all a first draft has to do is get to “The End”.   It doesn’t have to be polished.  It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but you.   At the Southern California Writers Conference this weekend screenwriter and novelist Derek Haas (WANTED, 3:10 TO YUMA)  referred to his first pass of a story as “the vomit draft”.   Exactly.     In my current WIP I am writing scenes out of order in a way I never have in my entire writing life.  So what?   I’m switching POVs in a way I never have before and I need to write some things out of order because I have no idea what the best order is.   I’m writing scenes I know will be in there somewhere and I’ll figure it out in the second draft, or the third, or the fourth. 

Just get it all out – you’ll make sense of it later. (for more on this:  Your First Draft Is Always Going To Suck )

BUT – when you’ve gotten to the end, if you are a newer writer, I suspect you will probably want to start your story 20, 30, even 50 pages later than you did.   And this is partly why:

For some reason newer writers think they have to tell the whole back story in the first ten pages.   Back story is not story.  You will lose every potential agent, editor, and future reader in the known universe.   So –  

2. NEVER MIND THE FUCKING BACKSTORY!!!!!

With almost no exceptions, you should start your book with an actual scene, in which your main character (or villain, if that’s who you start with, that’s fine too) is caught up in ACTION.   You should put that scene down on the page as if the reader is watching a movie – or more precisely, CAUGHT UP in a movie.    The reader should not just be watching the action, but feeling the sweat, smelling the salt air, feeling the roiling of their stomach as they step into whatever unknown.

We don’t need to know who this person is, yet.  Let them keep secrets.  Make the reader wonder – curiosity is a big hook.   What we need to do is get inside the character’s skin.

So here are two tips:

3.  IDENTIFY THE SENSATION AND EXPERIENCE YOU WANT TO EVOKE IN YOUR READER – AND THEN MAKE SURE YOU’RE EVOKING IT.

I cannot possibly stress this enough. We read novels to have an EXPERIENCE. Make yourself a list of your favorite books and identify what EXPERIENCE those books gives you. Sex, terror, absolute power, the crazy wonderfulness of falling in love? What is the particular rollercoaster that that book (or movie) is? Identify that in your favorite stories and BE SPECIFIC. Then do the same for your own story.   Are you getting that – and I mean ALL of that – into your first chapter?  Your first three chapters?   If not, you have work to do.   And you know what?  That goes just as much for me, and all of us.   In spades.  GIVE US THE EXPERIENCE.

4, Make sure you’re using all SIX SENSES.   A great exercise is to make sure that every three pages you’ve covered specific details of what you want the reader to see, hear, feel, taste, smell, and sense.    All six categories, every three pages.   (Sounds too by the numbers?  Try it.  Now admit it – isn’t that better?  Aren’t you just more there?)

5.  SHOW, DON’T TELL.

This is one of those notes that always annoys me until I have to read 15 pages of “telling”.   Then I realize it’s the essence of storytelling.   If your character has a conflict with her brother, then let’s see the two of them fighting – don’t give us a family history and Freudian analysis.   Action, action, action. 

6. DETAIL THE INTERNAL DRIVES OF YOUR CHARACTER AND SET THE GENRE.  

You don’t need to detail the family tree or when they moved to whatever house they’re living in or their great love for their first stuffed animal.

What we need to know instead is: their DESIRE and WHAT IS BLOCKING THEM.  We need to feel HOPE AND FEAR for them.   We need to get a sense of the GENRE, a strong sense of MOOD and TONE, and a hint of THEME. 

And  –

7. SOMETHING HAS TO HAPPEN, IMMEDIATELY, that gives us an idea of WHAT THE STORY IS ABOUT.

You can do this to some extent by setting mood, tone, genre, hope and fear,  and an immediate external problem – but also I mean you should get to your INCITING INCIDENT and  CALL TO ADVENTURE as soon as possible.  Especially if you are a new writer, you cannot afford to hold this back.   It can make or break your submission, so find a way to get it into the first few pages or at the very least, strongly hint at it.

For more discussion and examples of all of these terms, see  ELEMENTS OF ACT ONE.

And if you disagree with me, awesome!  But if you do think everything I’ve just said is wrong, then at the very least, make your own list.   Ten first chapters, by your own favorite authors, that just turn you inside out.  And take a look at what those storytellers are doing in those chapters.  Break it down.   Really look at it from every angle.  What is it EXACTLY that makes you commit in a few pages, a few sentences, a few words, to those authors and those stories?  

And then  – meaning once you’re finished with your first draft and have celebrated mightily – look at your own first chapter and be ruthless with yourself.   Are you doing whatever it is that they are doing that you love so much?   Are you?  Really?  

Or is there something that you might do… just a little more like – that.

That’s all I’m saying.

And for today, I would love to hear about some first chapters that break every rule I’ve outlined above and still rock your world.   Seriously.   And your favorite first chapters in general, of course.  I just reread THE FIRM for the dozenth time or so and that first chapter still just knocks me out every time.  Perfect thriller opening.   THE SHINING, THE TREATMENT, ROSEMARY’S BABY – THE GODFATHER!! – those are some of my favorite books from the very first page.   Give us your own list!)

Or whatever else you want to talk about, as always.   And keep warm this weekend!  (Snow in San Francisco?????)

– Alex

And, right – remember that we have Captcha now and you have to type in the letters to get your comment posted.  Sorry, but it’s the spammers who should die.

RELATIVITY SPEAKING

 

By Stephen Jay Schwartz

I am acutely aware that this moment is spectacular and fleeting. It’s the first time in over twenty-five years I’ve had one full year to focus solely on writing.

I cannot believe that almost two months have passed already. I now have only ten months to write a screenplay and two novels. Since leaving the day job I truly understand what my kids have been saying all along—“When you quit your job, daddy, you’ll be having fun, and the days will go by fast.”

I wake, the rising sun warm on my face. I blink. The setting sun cools my skin.

I’ve always enjoyed the fast lane, but now I can feel my foot searching for the brake pedal. Just a tap or two, I don’t want to start a skid. But I would like the chance to see the landscapes I’m passing.

I’ve tried reading Einstein’s Theory of Relativity. I’ve looked to Stephen Hawking for help. I get lost when “one observer gets on the train and experiences a different sense of time than the observer who waits on the platform.” I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to be the guy at the station or the guy in the train car and I don’t understand why that nanosecond of difference should turn my life upside-down. But, apparently, it does.

They say the days go faster as you age. I can feel that. People who are older often say they feel like they’re still in their twenties. The face in the mirror doesn’t match what’s inside. I’m right there. Memory has compressed my life. Time has surely been bent, and the events that occurred early in my life have been folded to meet events I experienced last week. What was in the middle has been folded out. The 90s. I suppose they were forgettable enough.

The last time I had that full year to write was when I was nineteen years old. I had just moved to Santa Cruz, California from New Mexico, after having spent one year in the Jazz Music Department at North Texas State University. I had changed my career aspirations and decided to tackle screenwriting. My mom was paying my rent for a while and I had nothing to do but write. I wrote whenever I felt like it. If I woke up at 3:00 in the morning with an idea, I’d write it out over the next five hours, then fall asleep for the next six hours, then wake up and continue writing. It was a perfectly fluid schedule that worked with the creative impulses of my mind.

I guess I thought it would always be that way. Now, a quarter of a century later, I’m on that schedule again. In my mind, I’m the same kid. Like I stepped off the West Cliff bus in Santa Cruz on the way to my favorite cafe (the transfer is still in my hand) and, the moment my foot touched pavement, I landed in Los Angeles, twenty-five years later. My life has been folded.

Do we get to shake out the folds at some point?

Everything has changed, nothing has changed. I’ve gained much, I’ve lost much. The only thing that remains the same is the length of my hair.

I hope this life thing we’re experiencing is infinite. I hope we live forever and retain the special memories we’ve built here on Earth. Because I’ve learned a little something from my elders. Our time here is short. Relativity speaking, of course.

Mouth Watering Creativity

By Brett Battles

Creativity comes in all forms, and can be seen in almost any walk of life. Of course, the obvious examples are art and books and dance and movies and music and plays. But these are nowhere near the only places there is creativity.

We see it in the gardener who chooses the plants he grows carefully, arranging them in ways that can make a yard beautiful. We see it in the teacher who isn’t content to just mindlessly repeat what’s in the text book to their student, but instead finds interesting ways to make the subject come alive and be memorable. We see it in the store owner who finds a new way to package on old product, and make that product more that it was before. And we see it in an airline that allows its employees to have a little fun when interacting with passengers (a la Southwest).

Everywhere there’s creativity – the arts, science and medicine, education, construction, the law, religion, parenting, the home and anything else you can think of. One of the things that really excites me – turns me on, if you will – is seeing something creative, and seeing the passion the particular creator has brought to it. I don’t have to necessarily understand it, but to know that someone used their mind to make something, or make something better…wow. Too cool.

What I wanted to share with you today is a brand of creativity that’s really cropped up in the past couple of years, that I am totally loving.

I’m talking about the lunch truck.

Yes, the roach coach.

There was a time when you could never get me to eat at one of these – primarily white paneled – trucks. Which is actually kind of odd given the fact I have no problems eating from the street carts in developing countries. The truck, though, they just weren’t for me.

But there’s been a revolution, and it…is…AWESOME.

The lunch truck has gone specialized.

I first encounter this when visiting my friend Bill Cameron in Portland, Oregon, a couple of summers ago. There was a place in town where every night five or so lunch truck would take over a parking lot and serve up chow. But these weren’t the hamburgers and slop type of trucks. Each served it’s own brand of specialty food. I can’t remember the choices from that night, but I do remember wishing the phenomena would hit L.A.

Well, I’m here to tell you my wish came true. Big time. In L.A. we now have trucks that specialize in: Korean Food, Thai Food, Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Nachos, Indian Food, Specialized Hot Dogs, BBQ, Juices, Ice Cream Sandwiches, Deli Sandwiches, Vietnamese Food, Cajun, Pizza, Dim Sum and so many others.

Even cooler than that? They usually gather together in certain spots, so eaters have a bevy of choices. And I’m lucky enough to have one of the main lunch time spots a seven minute walk from my front door. It’s located on Wilshire Boulevard right in front of the LA County Museum of Art and the La Brea Tar Pits. (Chandler fans, this would be right on the Miracle Mile.)

Wednesday, when I walked over, I counted thirteen different trucks. That’s actually below normal. I’ve counted as many as seventeen and know there is usually at least fifteen around.

 

The food is creative. The trucks themselves are creative (as you can see from the pictures), and this whole new way (which is really a supercharged old way) of eating is creative. I LOVE the fact that they gather in bunches. I LOVE the fact that most are on Twitter so I can sometimes plan what I’m going to get by seeing who’s going to show up that particular day. And, most of all, I just LOVE the food.

I know not all of you have this kind of thing in your city or town yet, but no matter where you are, if you do get the opportunity, I urge you to check these trucks out. It’s a sight to seen, and treat for your taste buds as well!

I sacrificed myself on Wednesday, and, in the theme of crime fiction, I had the “Felony” from the Grill Cheese Patrol truck. I meant to take a picture of my food. But I ate it instead. Oops.\

Anyway, hope you enjoy these photos. And I love it if you’d share with us in the comments some of the places you’ve seen unusual creativity.

The Grill Cheese Patrol

Korean BBQ

Nachos!

BBQ

Juice Truck

Thai Food!

Cajun

Hot Dogs

Brazil

 

Diversify

by J.D. Rhoades

 

It wasn’t  exactly a huge shock when the Borders mega-bookstore chain filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy last week. The company had been circling the drain for a while. Still, it was another blow to an industry that’s had at least its share, and maybe more,  of those lately.


The reasons for the Borders filing are numerous and complicated, in accordance with Rhoades’ First Law of History: everything happens for more than one reason. Those reasons are discussed in detail, by some very smart minds, here and here.

 

The big question on the minds of writers and readers, though,  is most likely: what does this mean in the long run? As a judge who pulled me aside at a break in court on Tuesday asked me, “do you think the printed word is dead?”


I told him I hoped not, and I meant it. Like a lot of you, I like the physical feel of a book in my hand. But we do have to face the fact: it’s a shrinking market, and not just because a lot of the physical locations to buy books are closing their doors. Not just Borders; seems like hardly a month goes by when we don’t hear of  a beloved indie bookstore shutting up shop, and even the venerable Powell’s is laying people off.


The immediate effect of the Borders bankruptcy will be that a lot of  people aren’t getting paid, at least not right away, such as distributors and publishers.  In fact, Borders had started “delaying” payments to publishers in January and trying to turn their outstanding obligations into loans, sort of like calling up the power company and asking if you can just turn the January heating bill into an IOU.  It worked about as well as you might expect, and caused some distributors to stop shipping to them. Now, of course, they’re not even getting the IOU; they’ll get what the bankruptcy court says they’ll get, when the court determines they’ll get it, which might be never in some cases. That can’t help but put extra strain on already stressed players in this business, particularly  small publishing houses that were on thin profit margins to begin with. As for the big publishers…well, they’ll most likely survive. But they’ll be feeling the pinch.


Unfortunately, pinched corporations become more risk-averse, not less. When you consider that offering a writer a lot of cash for his or her work always carries a substantial about of risk, that’s bad news for authors who aren’t already bestsellers or who don’t have ready-made name recognition. Like, say, Snooki.

 



To paraphrase the classic line from PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN,  Nicole Polizzi, aka Snooki,  may be one of the worst people you’ve ever heard of, but you have heard of her. Therefore, the tiny trollop from Jersey Shore  gets a book deal, despite having only read, by her own admission, two books in her life (DEAR JOHN and TWILIGHT). They had to figure on big sales because, Lord knows,  we all love a good trainwreck, and when it comes to trainwrecks, Snooki makes the Wreck of the Old 97 look like a kid’s Lionel HO-gauge  jumping the track.

 



Oh, sure, I’ve considered  “being a professional trainwreck” as a marketing strategy. I can do drunk and disorderly, believe me. I’m just not sure I can sustain it for long enough or loud enough to get a book deal out of it before I get thrown in jail. But I digress.


Absent that strategy, though, how do we get our work out to readers in a world where a writer as talented and experienced as veteran SF author Kristine Kathryn Rusch can have an experience like this with her book DAVY MOSS:


The book has made the rounds of traditional publishing (and then some!) and it garnered some of the best rejections of my career. Editors loved this book, but the sales force at Big Publishing hated the very concept.  Books about music don’t sell, they said, and then they’d force the editor to pass.


(Boy, did THAT sound familiar!)


As readers, how do you find a wide diversity of content in a world where a nearly illiterate reality show star  pulls down seven figures and Kristine Kathryn Rusch gets the old, “wow, we love this, but we pass”?


If you’re rolling your eyes and thinking “Oh lord, here comes the bit about e-books…” Well, you’re partially right. Because the world where Rusch gets turned down on a book that even the people doing the turning down admit is good is also a world where fantasy writer Amanda Hocking, online,   sells 99,000 e-books, at 2.99 apiece,  in December alone.


I have to admit that figure staggered me, especially when you consider that writers make more of a percentage on self-published e-books than they do on traditionally published paper books. I’ve never read Hocking. She may be dreadful, she may be the second coming of Hemingway. But as a purely business proposition, it seems to me that, as writers,  we’d be  fools to turn our backs on a market with that kind of hunger. And say, for the sake of argument, that Hocking really is a dreadul writer. Well, I still think I’m pretty good…so how much better could I do?


As noted above, Borders went toes up for a variety of reasons, but we can’t discount the importance of this one: while Borders tried to diversify by expanding things like CD and movie sales, they were diversifying into formats that were already being threatened by cheap, convenient, and quick downloads. While there are a lot of people, including myself, who love the experience of browsing  through books or CDs, we all have to face the fact that there are an awful lot of people out there who want to be able to get a book without having to get out of their jammies, jump in the car and drive down to the store. If that book also happens to be low in price, they’ll be more likely to buy, and read.

 

Some may call people like that “couch potatoes” and “cheap bastards.” I  call them potential readers. Here’s Rusch, again:

 

I personally want readers and I want as many readers as possible.  More readers equal more money—of course—but more readers also equal a long-term career.  If my book is in print from a Big Publisher, then theoretically the book is attracting readers.  If my book is in print from my self-publishing arm or an indie publisher, then theoretically the book is attracting readers. And that, my friends, is really what matters.

 

So, I’m not turning my back entirely on traditional publishing. I’ll keep submitting, and I’ll never stop browsing the bookstores (or trying to get my work into them). 

 

But in the meantime, I’m diversifying. I’ve repackaged my e-pubbed novel STORM SURGE with a snazzy new cover, by new Zealand artist Jeroen ten Berge,

 

 

 

 

 

and my new one, LAWYERS GUNS AND MONEY, goes live on Amazon and Smashwords  today.

 


 

After this, the backlist will be going up, starting with the book that began it all, THE DEVIL’S RIGHT HAND.

 

Hey, if that fails, I can always go the Snooki route.

   

 

Empty Desk Syndrome

by Tess Gerritsen

Last week, I turned in my final edits for for THE SILENT GIRL, my next Rizzoli & Isles novel.  Now I’m just waiting for the copy editor to bounce it back to me in the next few days.  In the meantime, I’ve written the acknowledgments page, gathered together my research notes and manuscript drafts in a box for storage, and cleared off my desk.  That empty desk surface is something I haven’t seen in over a year.  It’s been covered for so long in papers, notes, reference books, and general clutter that I’d forgotten that there actually is a desk underneath it all, a nice desk made of cherrywood.  For the last few days I’ve been enjoying how tidy it looks, but I’m also feeling a bit lost.  After a year of fiercely obsessing about the book, suddenly it’s finished and been sent into the world like a kid finally off to college.

I’m suffering from empty desk syndrome.

For the past year I’ve lived in a near-constant state of anxiety about the story.  I’d startle awake in the middle of the night thinking I’d never get this thing written.  I’ve had moments of stomach-churning self-doubt, wondering how I’d explain to my agent and editor that my writing mojo had vanished.  On the few vacations we took last year, I could never really relax because I knew I’d have to return home and wrestle with the beast.  I couldn’t leave the job behind; it was always with me, nagging me that I had only six months left till deadline… five months … one month…

Then, somewhere around draft #3, the troublesome manuscript seemed to snap into shape.  The plot, the characters, the motivations all crystallized.  I polished the final manuscript (draft #5) and emailed it off.  A few days later came the happy phone calls from editor and agent.  The book was done, everyone was delighted, and it was time to celebrate. I did, with dinner out and a few glasses of wine.

But now comes the postpartum readjustment.  When you’ve lived for months with stress hormones circulating in your bloodstream, when you’ve forgotten what it’s like to take a weekend off, it’s hard to reenter normal life.  Now when I wake up, I still feel the usual jolt of anxiety, and then I remember: The book’s done! You can relax!  My husband says it’s weird having me in the here and now for a change.  For the past few days I’ve lingered over the morning newspapers, surfed the web, and finally tackled the towering stack of galleys waiting to be read.  I had my hair cut.  I’m listening to Italian language tapes.  I signed up for archery lessons.  And I’m wandering the house feeling untethered because I’m not sure what to do with myself.

And …  I’m coming down with a cold.  It happens every single time I turn in a book.  When stress suddenly evaporates, the body says: “Your job’s done.  You’re allowed to get sick now.”  So, right on time, I woke up this morning with a headache and sore throat.  But what luxury to be able to recuperate at leisure.      

ADWD: The new epidemic

By Pari

We interrupt our regular blog to bring you this important public service announcement:

Hello. My name is Pari Noskin Taichert. You may know me as a novelist, an award nominee, a convention chair, a features writer, a public relations pro. Some of you have met me in my capacity as a wife, a mother, a cellist, a dog owner . . . but that’s not why I’m here today.

I’m speaking to you on behalf of the CWDC.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Centers for Writer Disease Control (CWDC), ours is a small organization – perpetually ill-funded (but that’s mostly okay) – but dedicated to the health and welfare of our nation’s literature-creating trust. This is no small task. Each year, hundreds of thousands of writers – maybe millions (who’s to say?) – suffer the ravages of
*  MOD (Marketing Overwhelment Disorder)

*  WBS (Writers’ Block Syndrome)

*  EM (EllipsiMania)

*  TMD2 (Too Many Details Disorder)

*  SSER (Strident Self-Editing Reflex)

*  its corollary: NE2R (Non-Existent Editing Reflux)

and other debilitating diseases.

But that’s not why I’m here today.

It has come to our attention (well, my attention since CWDC is really, really small, so small in fact that sometimes it totally disappears and then someone else has to come in with intravenous lattes to revive its director . . .

 . . .  but that’s not why I’m here today . . .)

Let’s start over. Okay?

It has come to our attention that a new disease is on the rise:

ADWD: Attention Deficit Writing Disorder

(Excuse me? Is that drink for me? Why . . . thank you.)

Symptoms include an inability to focus on . . .

(What? No! I didn’t ask for a soy chai. I wanted a latte.)

 . . . on any writing project for more than a  . . .

(Get that needle away from me!)

. . . a few minutes at a time.

Writers with this disease are often . . .

(Ow! Really?! Was that necessary?)

 . . . spotted with their laptops trying to grab a couple of minutes’ writing in  . . .

(Oh, man, I don’t feel so good.)

 . . . moving vehicles (which they’re often driving) or at cafes while ostensibly talking with friends.

In other words, not only are they completely unable to focus on projects in their own homes, they also try to work in inappropriate  . . .

(Is it hot in here? My tongue feels funny, kinda furry.)

 . . . places.

Combined with other conditions, this dangerous disease can result in disjointed plotting, abandoned stories, nonsensical segues. If you supectt ssomeonnnne you know hass thissss dissssorderrrr, plleeeazzz calllllll thisss nummmbbb . . .

 

The preceding was a public service announcement from CWDC. To donate to the Center, please send money directly to Pari Noskin Taichert. Go ahead. Just wire it right on over. Really. Credit Cards. Checks. Money transfers. She’s set up for PayPal too.

It’s for the Center, after all.

 

 

An interview with the ever fabulous Simon Wood

by Toni McGee Causey

Many of our ‘Rati know and already love Simon Wood, an alumni of Muderati from ‘back in the day. (See his blogs linked over in the sidebar.) I am absolutely delighted to get the chance to get to know him a little better.

He is, as you will see, pretty damned terrific, and with a (seriously, great) new book out, LOWLIFES, I know you’ll enjoy this one and want to go grab the book as soon as possible.

 

On with the interview:

 

TMC: What drew you to writing crime fiction?

SW: Old movies.  As a kid, I loved watching the black and white noir movies of the 40’s and 50’s as well as the movie serials such Sherlock Holmes (with Basil Rathbone), Charlie Chan, the Saint, The Falcon, etc.  From there, I developed a love of the genre, which led me to reading the books.

 

TMC: What types of crimes interest you the most? Is there a theme that runs through all of your works? Related themes? If so, what are they, and why do these appeal to you?

SW: Decisions are what interest me most about crime fiction and it’s a theme that runs through all my stories—not intentionally, but it’s a topic I’m drawn to again and again.  Decisions are the things that land characters in trouble.  Anytime a character thinks they can get away with bending the rules.  What series of actions has a villain made to make them the criminal they are?  And how similar are the hero and villain and what will these people do to condemn or redeem themselves?  It comes down to the decisions they make. 

In most of my books, the protagonist usually strays from the straight and narrow and it leads to whole world of trouble.

I think the fascination with decisions with respect to crime comes from some of the people I grew up with.  Several of the kids I grew up with ended up as killers or hardened criminals.  They were no different than me.  In most cases, they grew up in much better environments than I did, but for some reason, they took a path in life that led them down roads they could never work their way back from.

 

TMC: What is the biggest risk you’ve taken in your life?

SW: I would say coming to America.  I met my wife, Julie, in Costa Rica in ’96.  A relationship developed but she lived in the US and I lived in the UK.  We used to meet in different countries every few months.  We came to the decision that we wanted to take our relationship to the next level.  So I left a good job with good prospects, sold my house and moved to the US with no job, all to see if I could make a relationship work with a girl I didn’t know very well.  It didn’t seem like a huge risk at the time, but it seems slightly insane now.  J  That said, if I hadn’t taken that risk, I would have never gotten into writing.  Now wouldn’t that be a shame?

 

TMC: What five words (alone, or as a sentence), describe you best?

SW: Most likely to start trouble.

 

TMC: What makes you cry? laugh?

SW: My pets.  I rescue animals and my household is filled with four legged critters who possess the capacity to fill me with joy and break my heart.

 

TMC: What (other than politics or religion) makes you feel outraged, wanting to rant?

SW: Alien abductees—what made them so special?

Cell phone users—put the damn thing down.  We can all hear you and you aren’t that interesting.

Parking lot trawlers—people who’ll bring a parking lot to standstill while they wait for a good parking spot that doesn’t exist yet instead of just parking.

People who wear flip-flops—get some proper real shoes.

Nearly sports—cheerleading and competitive eating aren’t sports.

Reality TV—what’s so real about it?

Prius drivers—it doesn’t give you license to push everyone else around on the road.

Dell computers—I swear they’re designed to implode the day after their warranty runs out.

 

TMC: What is your favorite curse word?

SW: I’m a combinationist.  I like to put swear words together to make a super swear word.  I don’t have a favorite one.  They’re usually tailored to suit the situation.

 

TMC: What is the most interesting thing you’ve done in the pursuit of research?

SW: Worked for a Private Investigator.

 

TMC: Are you the person you thought you’d be growing up? How are you different?

SW: Nope.  I think I had a clear plan of where life was going to take me.  Now, I don’t have a clue.  Life’s way too unpredictable.  I’m an engineer who writes fiction and lives 5,500 miles from home.  That was never in the script.

 

TMC: What would you change about yourself?

SW: Physically, I wish I were an inch or two shorter.  Personality-wise, I wish I saw the bright side instead of expecting the worst.

 

TMC: What would you keep the same?

SW: My ability to turn a bad situation around.

 

TMC: On to book questions:

Tell us a little bit about the genesis of your current book.

SW: Lowlifes is my current book and it centers on
 Larry Hayes, a San Francisco Police Detective who wakes up in an alley with no memory of the last four hours, but suspects he might have killed his own informant, a homeless man called Noble Jon.  What makes this book different from anything else I’ve written is that it’s a multimedia story.  Larry Hayes’ point of view is played out through the book, while a short film told from the POV of another character supports the story and another character gives their account through a fictional blog.  Filmmaker, Robert Pratten, approached me last year to collaborate with him on the project.  He asked me to write the various facets based on his basic outline.  The whole thing was written in a way that the book can be read by itself, but if someone goes the extra mile and watches the movie and reads the blog, they’ll get a far more in-depth view of the characters.  As something I hadn’t done before, I jumped at the idea.  People can go to www.lowlifes.tv to read the book and blog and watch movie.

[toni’s note — I find this utterly fascinating, this integration of media. I would love to see more of this, particularly in the e-book world, where the multi-media could be played out on iPads and their ilk.]

 

TMC: What else is happening in Simon World?

SW: I secured the rights back to all four of my titles from my print publisher, Accidents Waiting to Happen, Paying the Piper, We All Fall Down and Terminated.  I’m happy about this as I can explore options.  I’m currently following up on interest in audio books and translation.  Sadly, all four titles are hard to find in print form these days, but I’ve just uploaded them as eBooks.  I’m looking forward to the second lease of life I can give these books.

 

TMC: And finally, tell us a little bit about your next book–something we won’t know just by looking at the flap cover or the reviews.

SW: Did Not Finish is my next book and this is the first book in a series based in the world of motor racing.  I raced open wheel in the UK a long time ago and for years I’ve wanted to do to motor sport what Dick Francis did for horse racing.  I wanted to give the public some insight on my chosen sport (fictionally speaking that is).  The sport is teeming with some great fables and events that provide great potential for mystery fiction.  I’m going to enjoy blending fact and legend to tell some entertaining crime stories. 

You can find Simon at his website, or on Twitter or Facebook. 

Okay, question for you fellow ‘Ratis… do you have a road not taken? A “there but by the grace of God go I” moment where your life changed (thankfully)? I’d love to hear it. And meanwhile, all commenters are eligible to be entered for a $25 gift card to an online store of your choice award–(remember the indies). 

Winner from two weeks ago:  Mit! Congratulations, Mit! Email me at toni@tonimcgeecausey.com and let me know your bookstore of choice and an email address where you’d like to receive the card.

 

 

 

 

February. Again.

By Cornelia Read

I don’t know if I mentioned this when I was whining about February LAST year, but when I was a child in Carmel, California,


I invented a game which was a great hit among the neighborhood children. It was called “Winter.” We would wander around the quasi-canyon in my back yard pretending it was snowing, that we had nothing to eat, and that we were–of course–orphans.

We usually did this while wrapped in my mother’s picnic blanket and a number of beach towels, pretending to shiver pathetically. Since I’d invented the game, I got to be the one who would carve chunks of dry rot out of the old stump under our clothesline. This was the main ingredient in what I called “stew,” which was basically a pot full of creek water and… well… chunks of dry rot. Which we would then pretend to eat. Slowly, in order to stretch it out and assuage our faux hunger.

It was important to make only a parsimonious amount, so we could pretend to suffer adequately. When we were feeling particularly melodramatic, we would call the contents of the pot “gruel.” Same basic recipe, just more creek water and fewer stump chunks. Amazingly enough, not a one of us had yet discovered Edward Gorey.

All of this to say that as a person raised for the most part in California and Hawaii, I vastly prefer my romanticization of winter from afar to the actual fucking season. To which you would be perfectly justified in replying, “well, DUH, Cornelia.”

And all of that to say that I basically suck at winter. Okay, HUGELY suck at winter. Which is my only excuse for totally spacing this blog two weeks ago. Even though I was in Florida at the time. Which of course compounds my guilt.

I did not, in fact, FORGET to blog. No, that would have been the obvious thing to do.

Instead, I wrote a blog post and posted it at The Lipstick Chronicles. On someone else’s day. And then headed back out on a circuitous chunk of road trip with my mother and totally forgot to check on comments at the other place. Which is luckily a place at which I blog with wonderful people equally as smart and fabulous as you fabulously brilliant people here, so somebody did me the favor of taking the post DOWN so I wouldn’t look like as much of an idiot as I am. Which is quite an idiot, as you might imagine.

So. February. I say we all need more gruel, though I would prefer to curl up under my sofa with a cake-mixing bowl (large) of warm gravy and a fifth of dark Haitian rum.

And just ignore everything until March first. That would be ideal.

And to compound the compounding, I didn’t fall asleep until three this morning, and… well… here we are. Thank you for being so patient with me. You guys are awesome.

And once again, dear ‘Ratis, I ask for your wisdom: How do you survive seasons of gruel–of the body, or of the soul? The woman with the brain of an ADD-raddled fruit fly would like to know.

SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH

by JT Ellison

I can hardly believe I’m saying this…

It’s that time again. I have a new book coming out on Tuesday. SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH is the sixth book in the Taylor Jackson series, and the sequel to 14. The Pretender is back, and finally making his move on Taylor.

When I started this series, I planned to avoid any and all tropes from the thriller genres – damaged heroines, lurking serial killers, brilliant villains, skeletons in the closets, the works. And guess what? My naïveté was astounding. Over the course of six novels, I’ve come to realize that these are the many characteristics of the genre. They aren’t tropes, but instead vital, exciting vehicles for both character and series growth. Who wants a character who is too perfect? Who wants a villain who is simply a blunt instrument? Who wants the whole story laid out for them from day one, with no hope for growth, or opportunity for falling down?

Not me. Not anymore.  As I’ve grown as a writer, as a world builder, I’ve come to understand some of the fundamental truths about storytelling. The most basic of those truths is this – as long as it’s grounded in an element of reality, it’s going to work.

Is it possible for a serial killer to target a homicide cop? Of course it is. Permission granted, ma’am. Sally forth and murder at will.

Oh, if it were only that easy…

We’ve talked at length about the writer’s journey, about how sometimes you just have to get out of your own way and let the story do what it’s meant to do. I had to do just that with So Close.

Because, you see, So Close sees a different side of Taylor Jackson. She is her own anti-hero – not noble, not just, and certainly not worth looking up to. She is driven by a force out of her control, one that taps into the edge of darkness she treads along so very carefully. That force is revenge.

Revenge is a tricky thing when you’re working with a hero. Especially a hero you’ve set up to be militantly GOOD. Good people don’t plan to murder. Plain and simple.

And yet, here I am, with a book about a militantly good person who is planning the demise of another human being.

I blame James Bond.

I was struggling with the facts of the book. In order to make things go the way I wanted, I had to allow Taylor to drop her goodness, even if just for a fraction of a second, and contemplate taking another life on purpose. The minute you decide to let a character out of their proscribed box, the blackbirds descend, cawing incessantly. You can’t do that.

Caw – People will hate you for it. Caw – They’ll hate Taylor. Caw – No. Caw caw – The answer is definitively no.

Hey, blackbirds? Fuck off! My book. MINE.

And so it went, for several Sisyphean writing months, until one night, late in the evening, after all sane people had gone to bed, I was watching Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace for the umpteenth time. I’m a big fan of Bond in general, all things Ian Flemingish. I’m a Connery girl. I always thought I’d hate a blond Bond. Boy was I wrong. I think Daniel Craig is a brilliant addition to the mythos. He has that caged fury that is so necessary to an assassin. Yes, he’s suave and debonair. Yes, the ladies all want him. But this Bond recognizes that an element of his soul is black, and instead of running from it, he embraces it.

In Quantum of Solace, Bond is out for revenge. He’s going to take down the people who stole his lover from him. Irrational, yes. Ill-conceived, absolutely. People around him begin to get hurt. And yet he strives onward, never looking back. No regrets.

And we cheer him.

We laud him.

We understand.

And we wish we could do the same.

Oh.

So at two in the morning, I realized that yes, by God, I could allow Taylor to follow her instincts. I could allow her out of her box, unleash her on the world, to hunt the man who has been hunting her. Even a cop can succumb to vigilantism, especially when the people around her are getting hurt.

I finished the book. It worked, and I think, worked well.

Lots of crazy things happened while I was writing  SO CLOSE. We had a title change. We had a date change. But most notable was the loss of my editor, Linda McFall. There is nothing, nothing! worse than losing your original champion. I hated to see her go. We’d formed a very symbiotic relationship, one that needed only nudges in red to get points across. So I was lost, both career wise and book wise, for several months while we decided who would take over editing me.

I was thrilled when Adam Wilson, my assistant editor of the first four books, took up Linda’s mantle. I turned the book in and we began the journey of revising together, each learning from the other, until this puppy was whipped into shape. I think Adam’s touch on this book made it what it is. He wholly embraced the concept of Taylor as vengeful angel, owned it with me. Together we found the exact right path to lead her down.

Taylor as vengeful angel. How far we’ve come in three short years.

SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH officially goes on sale Tuesday, though there are certain online retailers who have it available already. The audio book, coming March 1, is performed by Joyce Bean, and a true tour de force. I hope Joyce gets major recognition for her work on this book – she’s taken my words and created a world I never knew existed. It’s an intense experience listening to your own work . Usually I have to stop after a few chapters, cringing at word usage or phrasing, lamenting my purplish, bruised prose…. But on this? I forgot the book was mine and got caught up in the story – she’s that good. Digital copies are available for all your ereaders. And to celebrate, for a limited time, SWEET LITTLE LIES is on sale for just 99 cents. And if you send me a copy of your receipt for SO CLOSE, I’ll send you SWEET LITTLE LIES for free, and enter you in a drawing for a brand new Kindle.*

I forget sometimes how exciting it is to have a new baby out in the world. Whether it’s simply distraction, worrying about the next book, and the next, a self-defense mechanism in case of bad reviews, or a concern with overloading my fine friends and readers with BSP, I haven’t been going all out shouting this one from the rooftops. But I’m here now, asking you – please, buy the book. Read it. Let me know if you think Taylor is wrong.

I bet you don’t.

Because we all need someone to play the hero.

And a little extra incentive today – tell me you’re favorite hero or anti-hero and I’ll send one commenter a signed copy of the book.

Wine of the Week: Veuve Cliqout, to celebrate the baby’s arrival in the wild.

Talent borrows. Genius steals. Evil delegates.

It’s a hideous echo of a violent past. Across America, murders are being committed with all the twisted hallmarks of the Boston Strangler, the Zodiac Killer and Son of Sam. The media frenzy explodes and Nashville homicide lieutenant Taylor Jackson knows instantly that The Pretender is back…and he’s got helpers.

As The Pretender’s disciples perpetrate their sick homages – stretching police and FBI dangerously thin – Taylor tries desperately to prepare for their inevitable showdown. And she must do it alone. To be close to her is to be in mortal danger, and she won’t risk losing anyone she loves. But the isolation, the self-doubt and the rising body count are taking their toll: she’s tripwire-tense and ready to snap.

The brilliant psychopath who both adores and despises her is drawing close. Close enough to touch….

“Ellison’s sixth novel featuring homicide lieutenant Taylor Jackson is arguably her best book to date. A tense thrill ride filled with secrets, raw emotion and death, newcomers will love it as much as her longtime fans. After completing this one, you will scream for the next book.”
– Romantic Times, 4 1/2 Stars TOP PICK!

Read an Excerpt of SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH here

Listen to the soundtrack of SO CLOSE THE HAND OF DEATH here

* Click here for more details on this special offer