I believe

by Toni McGee Causey

Cornelia and I must be in hive-mind mode–I wrote this post and then went and saw her (much better) post from Saturday (today, as I write this). I, however, am not sitting in a cottage in a ski resort–I can't even pretend to have something as cool as Cornelia. Instead, I am sitting at my desk, wondering if I sever my head from my shoulders so I could quit coughing, if I'd miss it much. (I'm thinking no.) [You know you sound really incredibly crappy when you talk to a complete stranger on the phone and the first thing they say to you is, "Ohmygod, you sound so terrible!" Why thank you, AT&T, I wasn't quite suicidal yet, but I appreciate the nudge.] [It is just a common cold. How in the hell our forefathers survived colds without Kleenex (the soft kind with Aloe) and vaporizers and hot toddies, I just do not understand. It is probably a good thing I didn't have to discover the new world or we'd all be happily ensconced in France or Scotland.][Of course, with enough of the whiskey part of the toddy, I mighta jumped on the first ship over and not given a damn.]

I digress. Anyway.

Short probably rambly Declarative sentences are probably safest today.

I believe that the only real benefit to cold medicine is that it makes you just fuzzy-headed enough to not be aware of how disgusting you really are when you're full of phlegm.

I believe that the worst curse word in any language is the word "stupid" — particularly when aimed at a child.

I believe it's easy and lazy to be a cynic.

I believe hope is a fine, fine thing, but it doesn't do a damned bit of good if I'm not willing to work for that which I hope.

I believe our society will be judged two hundred years from now on how well we took care of our children and elderly.

I believe the only way we'll be around to be judged two hundred years from now is to learn to take better care of our children and our elderly.

I believe the likelihood of my tripping and falling and making a complete fool out of myself is directly proportionate to how many people are standing there to witness it. 

I believe the sole purpose of yearbooks is to warn you just how fashion-disastrous your kids are going to eventually be.

I believe the label "temporary storage unit" is a misnomer and a gateway drug for packrats the world over.

I believe if you've succeeded at everything that you've tried, then you haven't reached far enough yet and you're wasting time.

I believe that Americans often treat whining as an Olympic sport for the masses.

I believe no one's figured out everything, and anyone who tries to imply they have is either a really good actor or so full of crap, it's blocking their brain functions.

I believe Eleanor Roosevelt had it right: no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

I believe that not a single person who died yesterday was worried in their final moments about whether or not their hair looked nice or whether or not they wore the most stylish clothes or had the latest gadget.

I believe we are what we do. Period. 

I believe that if we were as worked up over the institution of marriage as we'd like to claim, then there would be no murderers, pedophiles or rapists allowed to marry. 

I believe one requirement for graduation from college should be a bad-paying menial job with a funny hat, particularly if one is going into politics.

I believe we often miss what's right in front of us because it's not what we think we should be looking for.

I believe teachers are on the front lines of a war and we're doing everyone a serious injustice if we don't better equip their armories. 
I believe that people occasionally screw up even when they don't mean to, and if we love them, we see where their heart is and let it go.

I believe that there are about three people on the planet who look good in orange and that the fashion industry hates the average woman.

I believe anyone who says they don't have someone to love hasn't visited a nursing home, hospital or food bank lately.

I believe cops [all types] and firefighters put their lives on the line every day and are far far under-appreciated and under-paid.

I believe we're meant to laugh at ourselves, otherwise how do you explain mullets, poodle perms and shoulder pads? 

I believe that laughing is sometimes the only thing that keeps us from crying over the fact that some of these people can vote.

I believe that when all is said and done and I'm gone, the love I gave will be the one thing that mattered.

I believe the statement "look Ma, no hands" is, 99% of the time, going to end up being uttered by a Darwin Award nominee.

I believe this is going to be a good year, in spite of the financial nightmare of the economy.

I believe you can tell a lot about a person by how fully they laugh.

I believe in listening.

How about you? What do you believe?

My 2009 Manifesto-ette

By Cornelia Read 

I am currently in the Sierras, on the shore of Lake Tahoe with a really bad internet connection, slightly goofy from altitude. This is not so great for trying to post something to Murderati (apologies for any formatting screwups, I’m composing in Word because we’re illegally piggy-backing on the wireless account of someone in a nearby abode who apparently went to UC Berkeley, as the connection is called GO BEARS). 

U_of_CA_Berkley

For trying to get work done on my third draft, however, it’s been a blessing. Okay, not so much the goofiness… more the lack of wireless.

Everyone else but my mother goes skiing every morning, and I hunker down on this beige chaise thing down in the living room and spend the day immersed in New York City in 1990—most of this week mentally wandering around the oldest cemetery in Jamaica, Queens, with the fictional doppelganger of a real-life distant cousin of mine named Cate Ludlam and a fictional female homicide detective from NYC’s precinct one-oh-three named Skwarecki.

Prosp7

(credit: Kevin Walsh, Forgotten New York)

Detective Skwarecki got named two years ago, during an auction at my daughter’s middle school. A very kind parent donated some money to the scholarship fund and she has since become a near-daily companion of mine, in an attenuated sort of way. (Is attenuated the right word? They don’t have a dictionary in this condo. Other than that it’s a remarkably amenable and non-tacky place, which is especially nice since I remember Tahoe as being the place bad Seventies architecture goes to die.)

A_FRAME_HOUSE_4a

I’m still pretty enmeshed in the first half of the book, at this point. On this third pass, I know Skwarecki a lot better—my version, anyway. She’s speaking too formally in the early chapters for a former kickass varsity field hockey player from Queens, so I’m fixing that. 

In fact, she and my protagonist bond in the book because they both swear like drunken tanker captains, and enjoy the hell out of doing so.

FL000019

I’m stealing a bit of backstory for her from a real-life former cop in Queens, who started out in the late Sixties when female police officers still had to wear skirts and little stewardess caps, and were equipped with regulation purses as holsters. 

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This lady, her first day on the job, got sent out to some intensely sketchy precinct house in Brooklyn, and the guy at the front desk started swearing a blue streak the minute she reported for duty, at 7 a.m., saying he didn’t want to have to take care of any little girls, etc. He ordered her to go outside and march up and down the sidewalk, “and don’t make any trouble! Don’t even talk to anyone!”

So she did that, this lady named Georgie—age nineteen or so—and after the shift-change ruckus was over, she noticed a man sitting on the curb, head in his hands. She walked back and forth for another hour, and the man didn’t move.

Finally, he began to weep, and she could ignore him in good conscience no longer. She approached him and asked if there was anything she could do to help, only to discover he spoke only Spanish. As there was a small bodega across the street, she went over there to see whether she could find someone bi-lingual to interpret for her, shortly returning with a twelve-year-old boy who spoke English and Spanish.

Bodega

“Ask him what’s the matter,” she said, and the boy did.

“Mrs., he says he killed his girlfriend.”

“Ask him when,” she said, and the boy did.

“Three o’clock this morning, he says.”

“Ask him where her body is now.”

The boy did, and said, “Mrs., she’s in that Pontiac, across the street. Under a blanket in the back seat.”

OC_Booneville_494

“Ask him,” said Georgie, “how he killed her.”

The boy did, whereupon the man pulled a gun out from under his shirt and offered it to her.

Taking a handkerchief from her holster-purse, Georgie took the gun from him.

“Ask him,” she said to the boy, “whether he’d come inside with me.”

The man stood up and followed along with her into the precinct house, whereupon the desk sergeant began yelling at Georgie for disobeying his orders not to talk with anyone or make any trouble.

“I’ve got a guy right here who shot his girlfriend to death five hours ago,” Georgie said. “The murder weapon’s in my purse, and the victim’s body is in the Pontiac across the street. I figured you might want me to bring him in to discuss it with you.”

And then, in the words of the fictional Skwarecki (because this is about cops in New York, after all) “the boys upstairs stole that fucking collar right out from under me.”


Standard-spiked-dog-collar

I met Georgie in the office of the Queens District Attorney, where I heard the story from an admiring colleague of hers, a great college pal of mine named Eric Rosenbaum, who prosecuted Special Victims cases for over a decade—cases of horrific rapes, unconscionable child abuse—the kind of grim, awful, stomach-turning acts we would all of us like to believe our fellow humans incapable of. And Eric took a seventy-per-cent pay cut from the white shoe firm he started out at, just after law school, to do it.

Here is a random thing… last night I had the strangest dream (cue Pete Seeger). I was wandering through this bamboo forest in Big Sur with a gang of people, 

Bamboo_forest_with_path

and we were lost, trying to get back to the river, and at some point someone in the dream said to me, as we were climbing up this really long bamboo ladder through all that green, “you need to go read Romans 10:10.” 

Which is kind of funny because I knew they meant the bible passage, when I heard that, but at the same time thought of 1010 WINS AM in New York, the news and traffic radio station (which reports on so many homicides and stuff during the morning commute that my soon-to-be-ex once said “it was a whole year before I realized ‘bodega’ was NOT the Spanish word for crime scene…”)

And I remembered the thing about Romans 10:10 when I woke up at five a.m. (even though in the rest of my dream I lost my car on a mountain in the rain in North Carolina and had to scramble across a slimy river bank with a flood coming in the middle of the Big Sur bamboo forest {have I mentioned they don’t actually HAVE bamboo forests in Big Sur? I’d morphed it from one I used to hike through as a kid above Honolulu} and meanwhile keep my little brother’s towel from falling off {he was about five years old again} and then ended up back in Syracuse at my old apartment {though of course it didn’t LOOK like my old apartment at ALL}, where my soon-to-be-ex had thrown hot coffee all over my family china. And,well, hey, as my soon-to-be-ex once said, “dreaming is surrealist television.”). 

Lunevillepl2a

So, being suddenly wide awake at five a.m.–the sun not yet up over the peaks of the Sierras and with my internet connection working, mirabile dictu— I Googled “Romans 10:10” (because, hey, who am I to look a surrealist-television horse in the mouth, right?) 

Here it is, chapter and verse, King James version:

For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.

So, you know, I’ve thought about THAT all day…. even though from a New Testament POV, that sentence is telling you it’s not enough to have faith in the resurrection of Christ in your heart, you have to step up and say it out loud, which is not really where I’m coming from, in a theological sense. I think for me it resonates as something I’m trying to do with writing crime fiction, which is speak up for justice—for fairness—the kind that’s all too uncommon in real life.

When my friend Eric went home and told his family that he was going to become a prosecutor in the DA’s office, his dad said, “so, you’ll be busting poor mostly black and Hispanic people in Queens,” and Eric said, “No, I’m going to be seeking justice for poor mostly black and Hispanic victims in Queens–especially children–and I can live with that.”

Justice_1_lg

I’m writing this novel based on a real-life case that happened in Queens in 1990. A three-year-old boy was beaten to death by his mother’s boyfriend, in a welfare hotel near LaGuardia airport. They put his body in the motel-room mini-fridge for a week, before hiding it in the abandoned jungle of Prospect Cemetery, the oldest burial ground in the borough—dating from 1660.


Henryludlam2

Twenty years ago, my cousin Cate Ludlam was clearing brush there with a group of high-school volunteers, and they discovered little Andrew’s skeletal remains. She ended up testifying at the trial.

I would like to make some confession from the mouth about what that crime has meant to me, since the first time I heard Cate describe what had happened, twenty years ago during a party at my friend Ariel’s parents’ apartment–or at least a confession from the keyboard. 

I can’t do what Eric does, or Georgie, or even the fictional Skwarecki. 

I don’t know how to keep hurt like that from happening to any other children. I don’t know how to make it right—how we can change things for good so that the defenseless aren’t hurt. But I want us all to talk about it… think about it… speak up about it. I want our passion for justice to go from our hearts to our mouths to reality.


C

Question du jour: What kind of justice would you most like to see in the new year? And I mean something that’s what your heart believeth unto righteousness, not politics. Give us the utmost message would you most like to speak from your conscience to the universe’s ear, and see made manifest.

Here’s mine: 

 

Happy, happy, happy 2009 to all of you and everyone you love. May it be the best year ever, and may all of your wishes come true. 

 

And that’s the news from Lake Tahoe, where everyone skis but me.

A Toast to 2009

by JT Ellison

Happy New Year!

I've been casting about for days trying to decide how to open the year. New Year's Resolutions – been done, and then some. Reflections on 2008 – ditto. Revamping the writing process – DONE, DONE, DONE. Then it hit me. What I wanted to talk about today. It's something I've been missing.

Killer Year.

You've heard me talk about the group ad nauseum, and with the paperback release of our anthology, we've come full circle. No more debuts. No more anticipation of releases. We've all moved on – into our second, third, fourth books. Our debut year is well and truly over, and our post-debut year is behind us as well. It's hard to fathom, actually.

One of the random biographical details that I share with my main character Taylor is the fact that I was a semi-reluctant debutante. (She was a completely reluctant debutante, but that's a different story.) During that time, my reluctance disappeared and I embraced the reality wholeheartedly, because it was flat out fun. We had a two-year commitment – our debut year, and our post-deb year. The debut year was full of classes and parties — midnights hiding behind statues in foyers, sneaking kisses with boys who had "potential," afternoon teas at lovely estates, slick boats, fast cars, darkened subways and sleazy bars, broken hearts, torn dresses, too much liquor and a few emergency room runs. It was a blur of silliness and fun, the last moments before we became "responsible" adults.

The post-deb year was when we made that transition. We were expected to mentor the upcoming debutantes – teach them all the little tidbits that we'd learned from the post-deb class before us — not to get throwing up drunk when in the presence of royalty, don't sleep with the escorts unless they give you a ring, write your thank you notes within twenty-four hours so you don't forget, start practicing your curtsy a few months before the big night, because the incidence of pulled hamstrings and quadriceps muscles is higher than during pro football season. You know, the little things.

Killer Year was surprisingly similar to my real debut. There were lifelong friendships made, secrets shared, help, support and never ending kudos for the smallest accomplishments. There was a real sense that we were doing something special, unique, and we all benefited. All of us.

But the most exciting part is the fact that the spirit of the organization continues. ITW has made Killer Year's concept into a permanent reality – helping all their debut authors realize the wonderful dream that is cooperative marketing, friendship and support, all under one umbrella organization- The ITW Debut Authors.

So instead of looking back to 2008, I'm going to channel the spirit of the post-deb. I thought I'd take my very first Murderati post of 2009 to give a shout out to this exceptional group of debut writers. The ITW Debut Class of 2009, to be exact. These are the upcoming writers who you may not have heard of yet, but you most definitely will by the end of the year.

And away we go…

Kay Thomas – BETTER THAN BULLETPROOF, (Harlequin Intrigue) January 2009; BULLETPROOF TEXAS (Harlequin Intrigue) April 2009

Roger Smith – MIXED BLOOD (Henry Holt) March 2009

Kate Carlisle – HOMICIDE IN HARDCOVER (NAL) February 2009

Don Helin – THY KINGDOM COME (Medallion Press) March 2009

Robert Rotenberg – OLD CITY HALL (Farrar Straus and Giroux) – February 2009 (UK), March 2009 (Canada & U.S.)

A. Scott Pearson – RUPTURE (Oceanview) February 2009

Bob Burke – THE THIRD PIG DETECTIVE AGENCY (The Friday Project / Harper Collins) March 2009

Paul Tremblay – THE LITTLE SLEEP (Holt Paperback) March 2009

Rhodi Hawk – A TWISTED LADDER (Tor/St. Martin's) April 2009

Jaye Wells – RED-HEADED STEPCHILD (Orbit) April 2009

Rebecca Cantrell – A TRACE OF SMOKE (Tor Forge Books) May 2009

Christy Reece
RESCUE ME (Ballantine Books) – May 2009; RETURN TO ME (Ballantine
Books) – June 2009 ; RUN TO ME (Ballantine Books) – July 2009

Stuart Neville – THE GHOSTS OF BELFAST (Harvill Secker) July 2009

Grant McKenzie – SWITCH (Bantam Transworld UK) July 2009

Jeremy Duns – FREE AGENT (Viking) July 2009

Sophie Littlefield – A BAD DAY FOR SORRY (Thomas Dunne) August 2009

Diana Orgain – POSTPARTUM DETECTIVE (Berkley) August 2009

JJ Cooper – INTERROGATED (Random House Australia) August 2009

Hank Schwaeble – DAMNABLE (Berkley/Jove) – September 2009

Norb Vonnegut – TOP PRODUCER (Thomas Dunne) – September 2009

Sharon Potts – IN THEIR BLOOD (Oceanview) September 2009

Cynthia Robinson – THE DOG PARK CLUB (Thomas Dunne/St. Martin's) Fall 2009

Pretty amazing group of authors, huh? Talk about a force to be reckoned with. I can't wait to see what they do.

I'd be remiss if I didn't include two more of 2009's debuts. My friend Andrew Grant – EVEN (St. Martin's Minotaur) May 2009, and a fabulous book that I'll be blurbing: Stephen Jay Schwartz – BOULEVARD (Tor Forge) Unknown Release.

So tell us, 'Rati faithful. What books are you looking forward to this year???

Wine of the Week: Since I took a trip down memory lane for this post, I'm going to make a general suggestion this week, Lambrusco, a wine that's gotten a bad rap in the past. We had a bottle of Lambrusco over Christmas, and it was excellent – tart and fizzy, just the right compliment for a heavy turkey second-coming (that's our redux of the traditional Christmas feast.) We had the old faithful, Riunite, almost as a joke, but it was quite good. Eric Asimov has some more suggestions for you here. Salut! 

—————————–

R.I.P Donald Westlake

Such incredibly sad news. The many tributes can be found here.

Hello 2009

By Brett Battles

So the easy thing today would be to do a list of resolutions. Yeah, well, I can’t think of any so maybe it’s not that easy.

Since today is New Years Day, I seriously doubting there’s more than a couple people even reading this today. Honestly, I might even forget to go and check. I don’t blame anyone. A lot of us will have hangovers and/or will be spending the day watching football and/or will be doing things with our friends and family. Who wants to spend New Years reading blogs? (That’s no diss on blogs, just, you know, it’s a holiday.) So if you’re not reading this, I forgive you. Of course, you have no way of knowing that.

So I’ll start with a question for those of you who are reading along. A question written in the form of a request:

If you are reading this today, New Years Day 2009, in the comments below please mark yourself present. As a bonus, feel free to add a resolution you have for this year. Seriously, if all you want to do is leave a comment that says only “Present”, that is a-ok with me. Think of it as taking attendance.

And since this is bound to be a bit of a light day, I thought we’d go for some entertainment instead of a lengthy post. Sound good to everyone?

Great. Bring on the music!

First up:
And the Snow Falls by James Wetzel

An old favorite of mine that I first heard while working in Berlin in 2001:
On More Time by Daft Punk

Love this next band, but they’re independent enough to probably hate the fact I love them:
Teddy Picker by Arctic Monkeys

Enjoyed this video and song, some of you probably have to:
I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

Just ran across this and loved the singer’s voice:
Pressure by Paramore

And one of my all time favorite bands and songs:
Beautiful Day by U2

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! HERE’S HOPING WE ALL HAVE A TERRIFIC 2009!

Random B.S.

by Rob Gregory Browne

Be warned.  Whenever you see a blog post of mine that has the word RANDOM in it, that means I have absolutely no fucking idea what to write about.  Usually I can slog through and come up with something at least a notch above coma-inducing, but today I'm stumped.

I know, I probably shouldn't admit that.  But it's the eve of a new year and maybe if I'm honest at least one day out of the 365, I won't burn in Hell.

HA.  Dream on, Rob.

Speaking of new years…

I went to sleep last night and when I woke up this morning an entire freakin' year had passed.

WTF?

How exactly did that happen?

I was planning to do a "best of" for the year 2008 today, but the problem is that I can barely remember 2008.  Of course, I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night, so that tells you something about me.

But, seriously, where the hell did 2008 go? Or 2007 for that matter.

I can remember 2005 very clearly.  That's when I got my first publishing deal.  And a few weeks later, when I spoke to my editor, he told me the release date for KISS HER GOODBYE would be February of 2007.

And I gotta tell you, it took forfuckingever for that particular month and year to roll around.  I grew to be a very crotchety old man in that time.  My kids grew up and their kids grew up and their kids' kids — oh, you get the point.  I waited several lifetimes for KHG to be released.

But get this.

Because of scheduling conflicts, by the time my second book (WHISPER IN THE DARK) comes out, an entire TWO YEARS will have passed since the release of the first one.

Yet those two years seem to be a mere blip on calendar.

Again, I say, WTF?

(That is, by the way, an actual question.  So please include your answer to WTF? in your comments below.)

The Power of Validation

I have been struggling, struggling, struggling with my fourth book, which is tentatively titled DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN.

This one has truly been killing me.  Almost as much as the second one did.

Which is why it's been very nice to have validation of that second book.  After great reviews in the UK, I just got my Publisher's Weekly review for WHISPER IN THE DARK and there's a nice little red star next to it.

Now, I've gotta tell you, getting a starred review from PW has made my year.  Ask anybody.  Really.  I can't stop talking about it.  I've grown even more obnoxious than I was before, if that's possible (shut up, Brett.  You, too, Bill).

But having that little bit of validation has done a wonderful thing for me.  Suddenly the new book is going like gangbusters.  Words, paragraphs, pages, chapters are flying out from under my fingers.  And I know I shouldn't say this either, but they're pretty damn good.

PW has given me a much needed kick in the ass and for the first time I'm actually WANTING to work on the book.  It took me forever to get here, but here I am.  Eee-haaa.

And On a Totally Unrelated Note…

When you're writing a sex scene, what word, if any, do you use for penis?  What about vagina?

I could give you a twenty page list of slang terms for each, but somehow none of those terms seems appropriate.  When I come across such words in a scene, I can't help but start laughing.  They just take me right out of the story.

Sure, you can actually use the words penis and vagina, but those have to be about the two most clinical, unsexy words in the world.  So, tell me, what's a good substitute?

His burning hammer of love?

Her forbidden cove?

Seriously, how does one write this shit without pitching a giggle fit?

And on that note…

I'm outta here.  Sorry for the suckfest, random or otherwise.  There's a new year coming, so go out and celebrate it and I promise to do better in 2009……..

Uh-huh.  Sure, Rob.

Writer’s block at the signing table

by Tess Gerritsen

When I'm sitting in a bookstore, autographing a book for a customer, I dread hearing these words:

"You're the author. Why don't you sign it and write something clever?"  

There's nothing that kills my creativity faster than having a fan staring over my shoulder, waiting for me to spontaneously write "something clever" on the title page.  I've heard that many men are unable to pee in public restrooms while other people are around.  They stand at the urinal and strain and strain, but just can't get things flowing.  I have the literary equivalent of shy bladder syndrome.  I just can't seem to produce the expected stream of clever words while anyone else is watching. 

In the privacy of my own office, I do a lot of hair-pulling and pacing and muttering and grimacing when I write. It is not a pretty thing to see.  In fact, I think writing is sometimes a grotesque affair, and one that should remain out of sight of the public. But when you're sitting at a signing table in a bookstore, you're performing in public, and you're expected to smile, not grimace, while you try to come up with something clever to write in every book.  It's always a relief when a customer says,"Just sign and date it, please."  

I've learned to come prepared with stock phrases to accompany my autographs.  On my first book tour, for HARVEST, I wrote "thrills and chills" on just about every book I signed.  It was my fallback phrase, pithy and appropriate and somewhat clever.  It allowed me to face a line of customers without panicking that my brain would suddenly go blank.  

On later tours, I began to vary it a little, just so I wouldn't write the same thing for every customer standing in line.  I wrote "Enjoy the thrills!"  Or: "Many thrills!"  or "Great to meet you!"  If the book was for a special occasion — say, a birthday — I"d write :"Happy Birthday!  May it be thrilling."  But I still fall back on tried and true phrases that don't require me to wrack my brain for something spontaneously clever.  

Every so often, a customer will ask me to write something specific, and will even have the words written out on a sticky. I'm usually delighted to comply because it means I don't have to think up something myself.  A few have asked me to simply quote a sentence from the book.  

Then there was the naughty man who asked me to write "Thanks for the great night!" And I did.

Over the years, I've paid attention to how other writers sign their books.  Most, like me, seem to fall back on the tried and true: "Warmest wishes," or "Enjoy!", or "Happy reading!"  Every so often, I hear about one that's a little different, and memorable.  One reader told me how delighted she was when Dave Barry signed a book to her, and wrote, "This one is for you."  Now, I suspect that he probably wrote that phrase many times, to many customers.  But for that particular reader, those words seemed directly personal, and she was thrilled.

A media escort told me about a signature phrase that's one of the sweetest I've ever heard about. I'm sorry I can't remember which author came up with it.  Whoever it was, I hope you don't mind that I've "borrowed" it a few times:

"Every reader is an author's best friend."

I'd love to hear what other authors have used to accompany their autographs.  What's the cleverest phrase you've ever written?  (And can I borrow it?) 

 

 

      

Occupational Hazards

by Pari

Writing is a dangerous profession. Neither Kevlar nor Teflon, fire retardant nor bubble wrap, can keep us ink-stained wretches from harm.

In spite of the peril, Dear Reader, we pursue our craft because we must . . .
and because we love you.

Over the years, I've maintained a private catalogue of a few of the potential hazards of this deceptively sheltered job. I hope, by mentioning them here, that I can in some small way make the world a safer place.

Papier Slitus
You've heard the expression, "blood, sweat and tears." Well the blood comes from folding, grabbing or pulling a piece of paper too quickly. The sweat and tears are self-explanatory if you're dripping all over a full manuscript or galley.
Prevention:  Wear gloves. Latex works better than wool.

Lingus Slitus
Who knew that licking envelopes could be fraught with danger? Lingus Slitus is always painful. The fact that so many agents still insist on snail mail queries is a crime. It puts would-be scribes at peril every day.
Prevention:  Wear a condom on your tongue. Even this isn't 100 per cent effective; abstinence is the only sure way to prevent this injury.

Scrivitori Spasmaticus Minorus
A spasm of the wrist or fingers wherein excruciating paralysis inhibits motion for brief moments of time. A secondary feature of this injury is numbness.
Prevention:  Rotate wrists and wiggle fingers for a few minutes during each hour of writing.

Scrivitori Spasmaticus Majorus
A more serious condition than its cousin above. This is a spasm of the writer's creativity: A.K.A. deep brain freeze, writers' block, creativity interruptus. Often accompanied with groans, moans, posturing and dwelling past successes, this injury can also result in extreme head banging against hard surfaces.
Prevention:  Show up. Write through the spasm, but take the pressure off. Remember, not everything you create must be brilliant during the first, or even eleventh, go round. Poe and Doyle had their bad days too.

Lardus Butticus
From lithe to pear shaped, writers' glutteuses become maximus from sitting long hours each day.
Prevention:  Get up, damnit! Take a walk. Dance. Jog. Pace in your living room. Just do it for at least 30 minutes daily.
(Caution: Worry is NOT a form of exercise.)

Onlinititis
An excessive attachment to blogs, social networks, computer games, virtual worlds, email, iPhones (and other telephonic devices), text messaging, websites, internet research, listservs — resulting in diminished creativity, literary lack of resolve, paltry productivity.
Prevention:  Turn off the f*cking electronics! ALL of THEM! Go ahead. Be inaccessible. It's all right.
Relish the quiet. Give your mind the peace to hear its own music.

Ego Bombasticus
The pernicious condition of being self-impressed.
Prevention #1:  Read other writers.
Prevention #2:  Read all of your reviews.

Ego Inthepitsticus
A potential side-effect of the above-mentioned preventions for Ego Bombasticus. This condition results in a total lack of confidence in one's own abilities.
Prevention:  Get over it and WRITE. If you're right and your work is crap, the only way to get better is to keep at it. If you're wrong and your work is good, you'll find out soon enough.

Today, I implore you. Please do your part.
Help identify other hazards so that all writers may benefit from your experience.

Forewarned is forearmed.

___________________________________________________________

Happy New Year to all of you who've made my experience here at Murderati such a tremendous joy. May 2009 surpass your highest hopes and never descend to your deepest fears.

After Creating

By Allison Brennan

Writing a story is about creation. Writers write. We put to paper stories that play out in our heads. Some authors hear their stories, some authors see their stories. Some even feel the story and put that emotion to paper. I'm a visual author. I see the story unfold and write what I see through the viewpoint character.

When I first started writing, I didn't have a viewpoint character. The narrator was me, the author. Only through writing–practice, practice, practice!–and discovering my natural voice did I fall into my rhythm. I learned to become my viewpoint character. So if I'm in the heroine's POV, I see, think, and feel as the heroine. Ditto for the villain. Getting into character is part of creating the story. And since I don't plot, I learn a lot about my characters as the story unfolds, until the end of the book when I finally see them as complete, whole individuals with full backstories.

I love the creating part of writing–the discovery, the frantic typing, showing everything that's happening as I try to figure out what's going on within my imaginary world. This is the part of writing where errors don't matter, where the right word is the first word that comes to mind. It's meeting a new best friend, or a worst enemy, and learning everything about them and more. I see it all and do my best to get it down as clearly as possible.

I'm done with that part of FATAL SECRETS, my June book. A few days late, but done. The story is all out there, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Now comes revising.

Before I sold–well, to be honest, up through book five–I always edited before I sent the book to my editor. I had the time, and I didn't know how to do it any different. Dump the story out, then clean it up–finding those right words, cutting repetition, smoothing transitions, deleting subplots that went nowhere, adding scenes to better tell the story. But because my publication schedule was moved up for the No Evil trilogy, I had to write the last book of that trilogy on a tight deadline, giving me no time to edit. Essentially, I was forced to change my process.

I thought it would be hugely difficult for me to change. I contemplated plotting but the thought of plotting out a book before writing it causes me to break out in a sweat and all ideas quickly disappear. It was with that book, FEAR NO EVIL, that I started editing as I went.

I write a net 5-20 pages a day, five days a week (seven when in crunch time.) The next day, I edit what I wrote the day before–sometimes deleting huge chunks, sometimes just tweaking, sometimes adding in a complete scene. It can take an hour, it can take four hours. But the result is a tighter manuscript . . . which is important because I now only write one draft before I send the book to my editor.

I suppose one draft is a misnomer because I often write (and rewrite and rewrite) the first 100-125 pages (what Alex would call the First Act) three or four times before I can move to the rest of the story. (Damn that Road of Trials! It delays me every time.) The first quarter of the book takes me as long to write as the last three-quarters. Some people will claim it's because I haven't plotted my book out, but I'd argue that I'm simply trying to find my characters unique voices and backstory. Once I have a sense of character–essentially, once I've been in their shoes enough to truly know them as well as I know myself–the rest isn't as difficult. (I will never say "easy." It's never easy, and every book is in many ways harder than the previous book. I now see my weaknesses more clearly, but don't always know how to fix them.)

This is why after creating the story I'm comfortable sending it off, flawed, to my editor. She knows I don't have a critique partner or first reader–she's my first reader. It's tight, it's clean, but it's flawed. Some of the problems I can sense, but some of them I can't–I'm so invested in the story and the characters I can't even see that there is a problem.

I always do revisions. I WANT revisions. If my editor told me something I wrote was perfect or the problems so minor I could fix them in copyedits, I would panic and fear they were abandoning me. My stories are not perfect, I can always make them better. This is why I don't read my books after they are published–I know I would see flaws or want to change something or cringe at using the same adjective on two consecutive pages.

A good editor, in my opinion, will show you the problems in the story without telling you how to fix them. She will see the overall story, the direction, the characters, the feeling and then look at each scene and character in context and point out where the strengths of the story are and the weaknesses. Then let you, the author, fix the problems with your own voice and style and solutions. Often, editors are brilliant in seeing the problems but can't see the solution.

Case in point: during my editorial conversation on THE KILL, my third book, my editor commented that the climax was too short–that there was all this great build-up, but then they captured the bad guy too quickly. During the scene, my heroine is being held at gunpoint and forced to drive the car to help the bad guy escape. The hero and another cop are following. My editor suggested to prolong the scene, my heroine should go for the gun.

The thing is, my heroine would NEVER go for the gun. It's not in her character and to have her do so would, IMO, have be unrealistic. But I tried. I took a water pistol and role-played with my husband. Me driving, him holding the gun on me. No matter WHAT I did, I ended up dead (or soaked, since we were using a water pistol.) I fretted over this scene because now that my editor mentioned that it was anti-climatic, I saw the flaws as she saw them–but her solution wasn't working.

I played the scene over and over and put myself in Olivia's shoes and . . . it came to me. What was her goal? To escape. She was in the car with a psychopath and she knew that she would be dead. This man killed her sister and dozens of other girls over thirty years. He was disciplined and focused and he would kill her because she'd thwarted him. And she's not an FBI agent. She's a scientist, a lab technician, not a cop. 

So being Olivia, the thing she WOULD do is slam on the brakes to throw the bad guy off balance and jump from the car, planning on rolling away so that if he shoots at her there's less chance of being hit. And she knows that there are two cops in a car right behind her, so the chances that the bad guy would get away were slim to none.

So she slams on the brakes while opening her drivers side door. The bad guy is thrown against the dashboard. He drops the gun with the impact. She leaps from the car . . . and he grabs her, pulls her back inside, and has a knife in his hand. The knife goes to her throat and he nicks her, the sharp cut burning, her blood dripping down her chest, onto her white shirt. And the scene, instead of ending, has really just begun.

I've started my revisions for FATAL SECRETS, which are pretty straight-forward. But that doesn't mean they're easy. And, though the story is staying exactly the same, I'll need to touch every scene–from minor tweaks to major deletions and additions.

There are four primary problems I need to address: 1) my heroine's backstory is too dense and unclear. I need to lose some of the history and make the rest clear and focused and germane to the current story. As we discussed her character, I saw the flaws then everything clicked into place and I "got it." Ironically, it's all there in the story–I just need to bring it to the surface.
2) Sub-plots. There are three sub-plots, but only two tie in nicely with the main story. The third was going someplace, but it never got there . . . yet I didn't see it. My editor did. When she pointed it out, I had two choices–I could make it tie in (which would have been forced) or dump it. I'm choosing to dump it. For the other two sub-plots, they have all the elements there I just need to tie up the loose ends better. Since I tend to write much faster as I turn into the third act, I sometimes neglect wrapping up the subplots. It's a flaw of mine that I know exists, but I can't seem to see it even when I KNOW it's there somewhere. 3) Villain. My editor loves my villains and always wants more of them. She brought up a great point that this story really has two villains, and I did a "bait and switch" in the middle which she felt cheated her. She wants my bad guy's POV sooner. It's already "there" just off the page–I have the aftermath of a brutal double murder. She wants to see it from the killer's POV. And add in another scene if possible. As I've looked at the story, I see where I can cut and add to weave in his POV earlier. 4) Ending. Every book–EVERY book–no matter how good or bad I think my ending is (and I knew this one was rushed, so I expected this) she wants me to draw it out, expand it. Sort of like in THE KILL, I build up to a great confrontation, but in my excitement that I FINALLY have everything figured out, I often miss the details.

So there you have it, revisions. I honestly love revisions and believe that all stories are stronger under the tutelage of a good editor. Some writers hate revisions, or fight them. I have friends who never have revisions, and I wonder if they are just better writers than me. And that's fine, seriously. I happen to love the revising part of writing as much as the writing part of writing. After creating the characters and the story, going back and making them everything they can be . . . well, it's quite a heady experience. 

But the other thing about a good editor is that when you don't agree with a flaw–if she can't convince you that there is a problem–you can keep your original vision. In my acknowledgments for THE HUNT, my second book but the book that had the most revisions of all mine to date, I wrote:

"Football coach Ara Parseghian said: 'A good coach will make his players see what they can be rather than what they are.' I would be remiss if I did not first thank my editor, Charlotte Herscher, who not only showed me the potential of this story but let me find my own path to The End."

But my way doesn't work for everyone–I know some people would be apoplectic if they submitted material they knew wasn't the best they could make it. Before that crunch book #6, I had a process that worked very well for me. Because I have more time with the first two books of my Seven Deadly Sins series, I'm going back to this process after finishing the Sacramento FBI Trilogy.

1) Create. Write the book, dump it out, warts and all. (Because I have been editing as I go, I doubt I can completely give that up, but I'm going to do less of it.)

2) Sit on the book. Take at least a week away from the story and work on something completely different–a short story, an article, a proposal, or the first pages of the next book.

3) Revise on hard copy–edit, clean, hone, delete, add, tighten. 

4) Put all the changes into the computer copy and further tweak and tighten the story.

5) Send to my editor and eagerly await her editorial letter. Because I know that whatever I write can be stronger.

Some other editing tips:

1) Edit in a different format from how you created the story. If you type in 12 pt courier double-spaced, print it out in TNR and edit on hard copy. If you wrote long hand, edit on the computer. Sometimes just changing the font and leading on the computer screen helps when you're in editing mode.

2) Let time pass between creating and editing. This helps take you away from the story (writers tend to get really close to the story and characters and read things on the page that aren't actually there . . . ) and gives you the distance to edit with a more critical mind.

3) Read the book out loud. At the minimum, read the dialogue. In the page proof stage–the final time I see the book before it gets printed–I read the entire book out loud. Because I see the story more than hear the story, doing this final "listen" helps find flaws I'd never see otherwise. What "sounds" right might be different than what is technically right. This is also where I find slippage in character voice, repetitive word use, and awkward phrasing that I didn't catch in the copyedits (or inadvertently added during that process!)

4) Find your ideal reader. This may be your editor, your agent, your best friend who isn't a writer, or your closest writing buddy. Someone you trust, someone who will look at the overall story and tell you what works and what doesn't work for them. Even Stephen King sends his books out to a group of readers (all friends) . . . but he trusts one of them more than anyone else (his wife.) In the end, though, YOU, the author, must make the final decision, even if your reader(s) disagree. Because it's your name on the book and it's your story. Weigh the advice, but trust your instincts. 

The book that took me the longest to write (a year) had the most revisions. Time isn't necessarily your friend because you CAN revise the heart and magic out of your story. You have to know when to let go, when to send the puppy off. It's not easy. You want to tweak, you want to make it perfect, you want your best shot. And no matter how many times you go through the manuscript, you worry and fear that it is a piece of shit. We all do. I panic every time I send my book in. It's not until I read the page proofs that I even THINK that it book isn't complete garbage. 

When you have a deadline, it's a lot easier to let the book go because, well, they're paying you to let go. But before you sell? Not so easy. Because there isn't a deadline, you're not being paid, and you're thinking . . . one more read through. There might be more typos, there might be a poor word choice . . . but you'll tweak and edit and tweak some more and the story will be so familiar to you that you may start cutting the heart out of it.

I revised my first manuscript completely six times. It was . . . pretty damn bad from the very beginning (stalker–TWO stalkers, one for the hero and one for the heroine– a rapist, espionage, a psychopath, a couple hostage situations, financial fraud, kidnapping, a frame, murder . . . it was really thee books in one, and then some!) But it was better after the first edit than it was after the sixth edit. I never sold that book, and I'll never go back to it. But I learned so much from that experience that it certainly wasn't a waste of time. 

Someone said, and I can't remember who, that "writing is rewriting." I completely agree.

Resolved

Big ben 

by Alexandra Sokoloff

So here we all are in that lost week between Christmas and New Year's – the week I think of as "The Crack" (nothing dirty or illegal,the term is from the Mary Poppins books actually, and bonus points for anyone who gets the allusion). 

Do you all do New Year's Resolutions?   I used to, but I don't remember having done them the last few years.   If I didn't, I imagine it was because I was lost in the new author vortex.   It's hard to take a breath and step back and look at the whole next year if all you can think of is the approaching deadline, or if you're on tour, or if you're waiting to hear back on a proposal.

This end-of-the-year isn't any less harried for me than the last few, but it feels like it is for some reason, and I think that reason might be that I have a better sense of the shape of next year than I have had the last two years.   

Part of this is that after two or three, depending on when you want to start counting) years now as an author,  I have a better idea of how long things take. Yeah, I have galleys to correct by the 6th (Grrrrr….  that's not what I call a Merry Christmas present….), but I've done them before now and I know I'll get them done.  Yes, the sudden arrival of the galleys interrupted my resolve to get to the end of my second draft of the book I'm writing in my spare time by New Year's Eve, and I'm pissed about it, but I think I'm going to make it anyway, if I divide my day carefully.

So instead of doing a list of resolutions, I'm finding myself looking at the overall shape of my work year in 2009 – something I've never really done or even been able to do before.   Being self-employed – and I have been for pretty much my whole adult life – makes your work life maybe a little too spontaneous and improvisational, but lo and behold, the business side next year really does structure itself out in amazingly clear way.

In the first quarter of 2009 I will finish this secret other book (shhh), and keep churning out the first draft of my Bahamas book (my fourth for St. Martin's.)  Michael and  I will go to the Bahamas for research – and vacation! –  courtesy of my MIL, yay!!!    When I finish the secret book I will continue working on the Bahamas book and start on the outline for my paranormal for Harlequin Nocturne.

I also have a novella in an anthology that we'll be taking out in the beginning of the new year.

I have conferences I am going to in  the first quarter of 2009 but not too many, and they're easy travel, like the South Carolina Book Festival, and I'm being paid to go to all of them, at least expenses, so that's huge progress.

In the second quarter of 2009 we will start moving into our new (renovated house), but it's not the same kind of stress as moving moving because we don't have to SWITCH houses, and there's no deadlines involved – we just have to get ourselves gradually over to the other one, and it's walking distance.  That will be a great burst of energy in the spring, to start in a beautiful new home.   Michael just finished the back deck this last week which I know we're going to live on, so I'm looking forward to that new office…

THE UNSEEN comes out at the end of May, by which time I'll be finished with and have turned in both the outline for the paranormal and the Bahamas book, so I can put a good concentrated month or two into touring and conferences just as the season picks up.  I'll be hitting some big ones:  BEA, RWA National, Thrillerfest, the Horror Writers Association Stoker weekend, ALA.

I''ll also be teaching a lot of workshops on story structure and screenwriting techniques for authors at these cons, so I'll be growing that book on the side.

After that flurry of touring, end of Junish, we're into third quarter of 2009, and I will be ready to power through on the paranormal book, due in October, and also I'll start outlining my seventh novel   Yes, I said seventh.   Astonishing!

And realistically I bet I will have started that one way before June.

Of course I'll be doing revisions on the Bahamas book throughout the summer, too.

It doesn't seem possible, but if I work just a few pages at a time throughout the year, I am pretty sure I will also have my story structure book done by fall, if not before.   Also in the fall the UK versions of my books start coming out, so maybe by then a nice promotional trip to England or Australia will be in order – it's something to keep in mind.

And with all that laid out so nicely, I don't think I have to plan the fourth quarter of 2009 too extensively – whatever has happened during the first half of the year will shape the second half of it.

Looking at that 2009 overview, it's clear to me why I'm feeling less than frantic at the end of this year, even though of course the writers' life is always full of stressors, some self-created, some real.

Life is always a huge variable, but the shape of my work year is solid and I can look at it and both think – "Yeah, I can handle all that," and "Wow, what a fantastic life I have!"    It's my perfect combination of factors – a strong structure with lots of fun variations and improvisations within it.

But within that grand plan, I guess I also have a few resolutions.

– Dance more.  
– Meditate every day.   Well, most days.
– Swing classes with Michael so that we can go out dancing together.
– Start a collage book of decorating ideas for the new house.
– Keep in better touch with friends and spend a lot of time with family.

Not that many, but doable.    I'm hoping to get more ideas from YOU all, because of course my questions for today are – Do you ever do a year plan or overview?   If so, what's yours?

And/or – what are your resolutions?

Alex

The Writer’s Life (Part 3) and a PSA

by JT Ellison

The Writer's Life (Part 1)

The Writer's Life (Part 2)

Merry Christmas!

I hope your day was lovely, and if you don't celebrate, you had a
good Hanukkah, or Festivus, or Boxing Day or Kwanzaa.

Now, for the PSA, aka BSP:

JudasKissCover 

I got so caught up in my new "methods" that I neglected to share some rather important news. My third Taylor Jackson novel went on sale this past Tuesday, December 23. I feel like a right eegit for not sharing this news last week, so forgive me. I don't know what it says that I wasn't on top of this… it's the holidays, we're all preoccupied, I was way more worried about getting my edits turned in for EDGE OF BLACK, I'm a blithering idiot… whatever the cause, the fact remains. JUDAS KISS is available wherever fine books are sold. PW gave it a starred review, Romantic Times gave it 4 1/2 stars, it's a top pick at Romance Reader at Heart… and if that's not enough to convince you, it's only $6.99.

I'm doing a brief tour, and would love to see some of you out on the road.

Here endeth the PSA aka BSP.

Since I'm on vacation, at the beach (YAY!) I thought I'd wrap up the
series on my writing life with a discussion of tools and tips for
better organization, less stress and an all-around happier writer.

In a slight departure for David Allen's GTD, I decided to separate
out my creative and my business. Here's how I define it –Business is
online. Creative is what I physically write.

  • My first, and most important tool, is my laptop, a Sony Vaio. It's
    light, has a 14 inch screen and is my favorite laptop ever. You need to
    enjoy both where you create and and what you create on. One day I may
    move to a Mac (if they ever address the pesky backspace key issue.)
    Until then, I'm a Vaio girl.
  • The TO DO List – I got all excited about moving all of my day-to-day to do list and
    calendar online, then realized I was defeating the purpose. If my lists
    are online, then I have to be online to access them. I went back and
    forth on this – online or paper, online or paper? I decided to stick
    with the online versions – Remember the Milk for my to do list, Gmail
    for my mail and Google Calendar for my appointments. All three tie
    directly to each other and, more importantly, to my iPhone, and that's
    just so much easier than dragging
    around a day runner for me. My Google Reader goes to the iPhone too —
    literally an all-in-one stop gap. If I lost it, I'd be in serious
    trouble.
  • My
    iPhone
    – It's becoming a valuable tool for me. I can turn off the
    wireless on my laptop, turning it into a dedicated writing machine, and
    if I need a break or need to look something up, my iPhone is there. I
    can glance at my email, Facebook, Reader, stocks, etc., taking five
    minutes to gloss through everything. I find that I rarely surf on my
    phone, which makes it the perfect substitute for being online on my
    laptop, and limits the wasteful time.
  • Two email addresses – one
    for crap (online ordering and subscriptions to groups you don't follow
    closely) and one for business. Some people break it out by friends and
    business, but I find that the crap versus meaningful works best for me.
  • Google Readers for RSS Feeds – I've turned off my daily newsletters from the newspapers and
    other sites like Galley Cat, and use my Google reader to follow any
    news I need throughout the day. It's so handy, because it can tell you
    when something is new, and it's all in one place. I've become a big
    proponent of all in one place.
  • The Moleskine notebook  – I've
    never used a Moleskine before (sacrilege!) and I'm excited to have gotten one for
    Christmas. I find that my notes get littered with creative ideas, and
    my To Do Lists include titles, or my grocery lists and that latest
    phone call get into my book notebook. I hope to use the Moleskine to
    capture my creative thoughts – ideas on new books, snippets of dialogue
    or scene, book titles, new characters – those ideas that go on Post-it
    Notes, the scribbles in the middle of the night, the whole kit and
    kaboodle.
  • A Circa notebook for the book – because I don't want the
    distraction of all the notes in my Moleskine. The Circa is great because
    I can tear pages out, reorganize them into tabs, and have everything
    book related at my fingertips. Now that I know how to use it, it's
    working well for me.
  • Fancy pens and pencils – It was office supply Christmas, and hubby got me some fabulous Palomino pencils for me to edit with. Me loves. I also am always on the lookout for a great pen. I have a wonderful Mont Blanc that I got for graduation, but I'm always scared I'm going to lose it, so it's sitting in a nice safe spot upstairs in my office. I use it to sign contracts, write thank you notes, anything important. Which means I need another, one that I can tour with. I'm looking at a TrueWriter from Levenger, just a basic solid Good Pen that I won't freak out about if I lose.
  • Write in the morning, edit in the afternoon.
    That way, the next morning, I can do the edits and it launches me right
    back to the spot I need to be mentally to continue producing. Some
    writers like to stop mid-line, mid-paragraph or mid-thought and come
    back to it the next day. I'm more inclined to finish at a chapter break
    or a scene pause. That allows me to pick up a fresh thought when I come
    back to work.What I am going to try is reading the last few paragraphs
    of what I wrote that day right before I go to sleep, and see what my
    subconscious does with the downtime.

And that's really it.

The picture below
is one of my favorite gifts received this year, from my wonderful
critique partner cum adopted sister JB Thompson. Isn't that great?

Christmas 2008 004

So, a twofold question today. Did you get anything for Christmas or Hannukah that you especially loved? And what are your favorite tools?

Wine of the Week: A gift from the Italian side of my familia, shared over Christmas dinner. This is one of the finest wines in the world, #6 on Wine Spectator's Top 100 of 2008: 2004 Pio Cesare Barolo