Tricks of the Trade – Any Trade …

by Zoë Sharp

One of the things I love about reading any book is picking up those little snippets of inside information. Any information – it doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it’s something that isn’t obvious, that dispels a commonly held belief, or is just one of those nuggets you store away for future use.

Toni did a wonderful post recently about Writing What You Know, in which she detailed – quite beautifully, I might add – the sensations and feelings and knowledge that you collect in the filter of your daily life. You might not think it’s the stuff thrillers are made of, but it is. It’s the glue that holds the whole thing together. The aspect that gives a work heart as well as flash.

The bits that make the whole thing ring true.

In the course of my own writing career, I’ve picked up all sorts of obscure knowledge – how to dislocate someone’s shoulder; how to tell if a mirror is in fact one-way glass; how to steal a motorbike; how to tell immediately if a Glock semiautomatic has a round in the chamber, even in the dark; what to add to gasoline to make the perfect Molotov cocktail; what style of suit to wear on a close-protection detail.

All useful and highly entertaining stuff.

In fact, there was a book came out about ten years ago called THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO SURVIVAL HANDBOOK. I have a copy and it contains all kinds of similar information, like how to win a sword-fight, fend off a shark, or escape from killer bees. Just one thing though – ignore the advice to lie down if faced by stampeding horses. It’s not true that they will avoid trampling you. In my painful experience, horses will put their clumping great feet anywhere they damn well please!

But all this is pretty esoteric stuff. Most of the time, even in fiction, your characters will be going about their normal daily lives. Even if they’re not a professional alligator wrestler, or a bullfighter by trade, this can be just as interesting, if not more so. Although the Internet is a wonderful tool for research, there’s no substitute for chatting to real people who actually do the things you want to write about. It’s that vital bit of colour that gives a work authenticity. Just as silly mistakes of any kind – like a flower blooming at the wrong time of year – will throw a reader out of a story, so those little snippets I mentioned earlier will help to draw them in.

Those tricks of the trade.

And until you think about it, you don’t realise what you know. To this end, I phoned my sister, who’s been a professional gardener for years. "Give me some tricks of the trade," I said to her. "Things that people wouldn’t know unless they’re involved in your line of business."

There was a long pause, and then she came out with a couple of belters:

‘If you don’t want to use slug pellets to keep slugs away from your plants, tip used coffee grounds round the base of the plant instead. Got to be fresh coffee, though – instant doesn’t work.’

‘To stop squirrels digging up your crocus bulbs, plant the bulbs with dry holly leaves and chilli powder. Curry powder also works, but they really don’t like chilli.’

For myself, working as a photographer for years allowed me to come up with one or two interesting factoids of my own:

‘If you want to take a soft-focus shot, breath onto the lens just before you press the shutter. This gives an instant soft-focus effect and saves coating the lens with Vaseline, which will take forever to clean off.

‘Resting the camera on a bag filled with rice or split-peas will take up a surprising amount of vibration and will dramatically reduce camera-shake during action shots. I use a bag of pearl barley (well, it was handy at the time and I’ve never got round to changing it) for all my car-to-car tracking photography to keep it pin-sharp.’

‘If you’re taking a female portrait shot in black-and-white rather than colour, cosmetics will create shadow rather than provide highlights. Hence blusher should be applied into the hollows beneath the cheekbones, to add definition, not on top of them.

And that led me onto another make-up tip I read in an in-flight magazine:

‘Professional make-up artists heat up mascara before applying it, to give a much fuller effect and increase the even coverage.’

I’ve no idea where that will come in useful, but I’m sure it will somewhere. And, as a motorcyclist, here’s an invaluable one:

‘Always carry the lid of a jar with you on the bike. You never know when you’re going to have to park up on grass. The lid can be placed under the foot of the side-stand to stop it digging into the soft ground and causing the bike to fall over – which is not only extremely embarrassing, but can also be costly in repairs.’

And as for these others, they were picked up all over the place:

Graphic designers: ‘If you have a client who is unable to approve a proposed design without putting their stamp on it, just put an obvious error in the proposal – a logo that’s too large, a font that’s too small, or a few judiciously seeded typos. The client requests the change and feels they’ve done their part, and your design, which was perfect all along, sails through to approval.’

In a parking lot: ‘Improve the range of your car alarm remote control by putting the remote under your chin. It uses the whole of your body as an extension of the antenna.’ (Wouldn’t do that too often, though, if I were you …)

Horse owners: ‘Baby oil works wonders to de-tangle a horse’s knotted tail, without pulling out lumps of hair by the roots and getting yourself kicked in the process.’

In restaurants: ‘If you’re serious about your food, eat in big city restaurants between Tuesday and Thursday, when the chef’s not just interested in turning over weekend covers, and he’s had his day off, so both he and the produce are at their freshest.’

For those with a delicate stomach: ‘Don’t order anything in hollandaise sauce. The delicate emulsion of egg yolks and clarified butter can’t be refrigerated or it will break when spooned over poached eggs. Unfortunately, this lukewarm holding temperature is the perfect breeding ground for bacteria. It’s also very likely not only to have been made hours before serving, but also from the heated, clarified butter that’s been collected from the tables, with other people’s bread crumbs strained out.’ And you can thank Anthony Bourdain’s KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL for that nugget … as well as for:

‘If you’re worried about the hygiene standards in a restaurant, check out the restrooms. If they’re dirty – and those are the bits the customer is allowed to see – imagine what the kitchen’s going to be like, away from public view.’

One for wine buffs: ‘It’s no longer necessary to allow wine to ‘breathe’ by pulling the cork and letting the open bottle sit for an hour or two before serving. This is a throwback to the days when wines were stuffed full of chemicals at bottling. It can still make sense for vintages earlier than approx 1980, when letting a wine stand dissipates the charmingly named phenomenon known as ‘bottle stink’. But, today’s wines are much cleaner and healthier than a generation ago, and exposing a surface area of wine the size of the bottleneck to air is unlikely to have any effect on the great bulk of the wine in the bottle.’

Wildlife documentary makers: ‘If you want to replicate the sound of polar bears rolling around in the snow on your latest documentary, but don’t fancy getting close enough to actually record the real sound, replicate it by scrunching custard powder inside a pair of nylons.’ (Seriously, it worked for Sir David Attenborough!)

Car drivers: ‘If you live somewhere with a very hot climate, always fill your tank on the way to work in the morning, not on the way home. This way, the ground storage tanks will be at a lower temperature so the fuel will be at its most dense, giving your more bang for your buck.’

Airline cabin crew: ‘A fractious infant can be quickly quietened by the addition of a helping of gin in the milk formula.’ (Hey, don’t blame me, I’m just reporting what I heard!)

If you’ve got an ant problem, but have pets or small children in the house: ‘Put down bicarbonate of soda instead. It makes them explode, apparently.’

Cigar smokers: ‘Don’t dunk the end directly into the flame when lighting the cigar. Rotate the cigar gently above the flame. Do not inhale the smoke, just taste it in your mouth and blow it out. And don’t smoke it too fast, or it will burn hot and ruin the flavour.’

I should point out at this stage that all the above are comments and snippets picked up from a variety of sources and, should I ever feel inclined to use them in a book, I’d certainly double-check the facts before I used them.

OK, your turn. What little snippets can you pass on from your day-job? What do you know?

This week’s Word of the Week is onomatomania, which is the vexation of being unable to find the right word.

PS I’m blogging all this week on the Minotaur site www.MomentsInCrime.com so please drop by if you can – it’s lonely over there and I miss you guys!

Conspiracy Theories

   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

by J.D. Rhoades

The Twin Towers were brought down on 9/11, not by by terrorists
flying hijacked airliners, but by controlled demolition engineered and
paid for by the Bush Administration.

Man never landed on the moon; the whole thing was faked on a California sound stage.

JFK was killed, not by one man acting alone, But by the CIA. Or the Mafia. Or the CIA and the Mafia. Or something.

We do love our conspiracy theories. On dozens of crackpot
websites, in hundreds of endless drunken barroom conversations, in thousands of conversations at  dinner tables, people
love to talk about the secret forces that are behind  the havoc and
misery we see.  The truth is out there, they just know it.

The government is keeping an alien spaceship and the bodies of its crew at Area 51 in the Nevada desert.

Marilyn Monroe was murdered to keep her from spilling the beans about her affair with JFK.

Someone once developed a car that can run on water, but the oil companies have been covering it up to protect their profits.

Pop culture reflects our love of conspiracy theories. Look at some of the biggest bestsellers in
recent memory. THE DA VINCI CODE  spawned a horde of imitators and an
entire subgenre of nonfiction books purporting to "debunk" its
fictional premise that there’s a secret society made up of some of history’s greatest luminaries, all keeping the real story of Jesus a secret.   Robert Ludlum was one of dozens of writers who made
entire careers out of telling us scary stories about multinational conspiracies and the brave spies who thwart them. And what, after all,
was the Harry Potter series but one huge fictional pulling back of the
veil between our own mundane Muggle world and the secret world of magic
that exists just out of our view?

And movies and TV shows are full of conspiracies: "The X-files", "24", "Lost, " etc. there was even a middling good Mel Gibson movie called "Conspiracy Theory" in which Mel played a crackpot who thought secret cabals ran everything. As it turned out, not much of a stretch for old Mel, acting wise.

Advertisers are putting subliminal mind-control messages in their ads and in TV shows to force you to  buy products.

Everything
is actually run behind the scenes by the Jews/the Bavarian
Illuminati/the Freemasons/The Trilateral Commission/shape-shifting
alien reptiles.

Elvis, Tupac Shakur, and Andy Kaufman are actually alive. Paul McCartney, however, is dead.

I
did a panel (ably moderated by Barry Eisler) at the last Thrillerfest
on the subject of conspiracy theories. One of the questions was–and
I’m paraphrasing here– "do you believe in  conspiracies
in real life?"  Some members of the audience looked a bit
startled, and some were visibly disappointed  when I piped up and said
"no, I believe in stupidity, randomness and  chaos. That’s what causes most of the misery in the world."

I think they were
unhappy because people want to believe in order. They want to believe
there’s a reason for some of the awful stuff that happens, even if that
reason is based in evil. They want to believe someone’s in control,
even if that person (or persons, or shape shifting alien reptile) is malevolent. We
want a culprit. At least that gives them something  to fight against.
There’s no fighting stupidity and chaos. You can send Luke Skywalker
after Darth Vader; sending him after Larry, Moe and Curly would be
absurd.

And thus, THE DA VINCI CODE. THE X-FILES.  And so on. 

And the truth is, even though I believe stupidity and chaos are more to blame for the bad stuff in the  world, I like  good conspiracy fiction (even some bad, cheesy conspiracy fiction) as much as the next guy.

So what do you believe in? Big Evil or Big Stupid? What’s your favorite conspiracy theory? Do you believe it, and why? What’s your favorite fictional conspiracy?

Farewell to a Friend

By Louise Ure

Elaineflinn
Elaine Flinn, one of the co-creators of the Murderati blog and author of the award-winning Molly Doyle series of mystery novels set in Carmel, California died on Saturday night in Eugene, Oregon.

God, I hate writing obituaries for friends.

Let me try again.

Elaine Flinn, one of the most vibrant and generous authors in crime fiction, died Saturday at her home in Eugene, Oregon.

Or maybe …

Elaine Flinn, one of those larger-than-life characters you seldom meet but never forget, died Saturday after hand-to-hand combat with a virulent form of cancer.

I give up. I have no words today. My heart is broken.

I first met Elaine at an MWA charitable event in Northern California before my first book was published. I was still in my Pollyanna phase; I loved my agent, my editor and my publisher. My book covers were the best ever. No copy editor had ever made a dumb comment on my manuscript. In pure bluff-gruff fashion, Elaine took a long hit off her cigarette and said, “If you’re going to be a real writer you have to learn to whine.”

At the end, even she didn’t take that advice. Riddled with cancer, she booked her reservations for Bouchercon and next spring’s Left Coast Crime in Hawaii. And instead of sharing the news of the cancer diagnosis, she asked her friends to say she had taken a fall and hurt her back. "Are you nuts?" she said. "If you say cancer, no agent or publisher will want anything to do with me!" There was no whining allowed.

I’ll leave the eulogies to others. They say it so much better than I.

From Paul Guyot:

"Elaine was all or nothing. If she loved you, she LOVED you and would do anything for you. If she hated you, look out.

She was loyal, she was generous, she was beautiful, and she was incredibly underrated as a writer. One of my favorite things about her was the fact that she never seemed too interested in monetary success or accolades – what was important to Elaine was respect from other writers. And she had it from those that read her.

There have been some other authors to pass recently, and I’ve read all these blog postings where people are saying what a personal loss they’ve experienced and yet, they never even met the author, or they only shook their hand at a signing or conference. These people have no idea what a personal loss this is. I met Elaine through the writing community and mystery conferences. But I was friends with her because of the person she was, not the writer she was. You could talk with Elaine about writing, or you could talk with her about food or sea lions or Irishmen or barstools or eyebrows or anything else, and she always had an informed opinion, and when you talked with her, she always made you feel like you were the most important person, and your conversation was the most important conversation happening in the world at that moment.

And she loved to laugh. My God, but the two of us got ourselves into so much trouble because of our desire to make each other laugh. Those are the memories I will keep at the front of my mind. Those are the times I will look back on and smile. God, she loved to laugh."

From Lee Child:

"I knew Elaine pretty well for many years – and probably spent more time with her at conventions than I spent with anyone else, because of the hours we spent smoking together outside the hotel doors.  So today I’m missing her and mourning her – but I’m not grieving.  She would have dismissed that idea with a husky laugh and a twinkle in those dark eyes.  She lived fast and careless and had a ball.  We loved a particular line from the movie "The Taking of Pelham 123" … I called her when I found out she was sick and she hit me with it once again: "What do they want for their 35 cents?  To live forever??"  She had more fun in however many years it was than most people get in a longer lifetime, and she knew it.  So I’m not grieving.  And I’m still smoking.  My buddy Elaine would have expected no less."

From Ken Bruen:


Elaine was the original earth mother, the very life force, she gave hugs that enwrapped you in their warmth. Last year, at the Edgars, she sat beside me on the couch in the grand Hyatt, said ‘God, I love being with writers, aren’t they grand.’

Few more majestic, more truly grand than my beloved Elaine, she took my hand in hers, adding, ‘Your hands are cold, I’ll warm them for you.’ As indeed, she warmed my very life.

This is a day that nothing will warm the cold of loss I feel. Rest well my wondrous friend.

From Gayle Lynds:


I loved Elaine.  Funny, brainy, sharp, and endlessly kind, she was a
constant surprise with her earthy advice and twinkling eyes.  She was the kind of force of nature all of us should have in our lives.  A new star is shining above us, in the firmament.  When I look up, I see you, Elaine.

From Laura Lippman:


I met Elaine at Malice Domestic and had what I have to think is the classic first impression. In short: What fun! This lady is a hoot!

Over the five or so years I knew her, she was always kind and supportive, one of the first people to write me a note of congratulations when something nice happened.

I don’t know . . . I tend to be inarticulate in these things. Words have such an easy currency in the life of a writer that I think it’s natural not to be able to find the right ones in this case. I just really liked her and my heart goes out to her family.


From  MWA’s Margery Flax:

“Fendi. I’m always going to remember the Fendi perfume. When I’d give her a hug, I’d say, ‘I’m going to smell like you all day.’ ‘What’s wrong with that?’ she’d reply.”


From Cornelia Read:

The Flinns were the smartest family in Carmel, California, and the coolest. I used to hang out with Elaine’s daughter Kelly and her gang of irregulars eating crepes at a little place in town, under the stairs where I. Magnin used to be, on Ocean Avenue. We would snark and laugh for hours.

The very first time Kelly took me to her house to meet Elaine and Joe, everyone was talking about Dave Brubeck.

As a teenage hippie kid raised on Donovan and Hendrix, I had no idea who this was.

"Dave Brubeck? ‘Take Five’?" asked Elaine and Joe.

I stood there dumbly.

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Elaine, patting me on the shoulder. "Oh, you poor kid."

"Take Five" has been one of my favorite songs ever since.

And I learned early that it was F-L-I-N-N, never with a "Y," because Flinn was the REAL Irish spelling and Flynn was evidence of the lasting taint of British oppression, which is something you do not fuck around about in the presence of this family.

After that I ended up going east to school, and stayed there a good while. Kelly and I kept in touch sporadically, 3000 miles apart.

When I joined MWA NorCal, about six years ago, I noticed one particular name in the membership list. Elaine Flinn. With an "I."

I emailed immediately: "*Kelly’s mom, Elaine Flinn?"

She wrote me back about sixty seconds later: "Cornelia, where the hell have you been? Welcome, kid."

I can picture her really clearly right now, sitting at the Great Conference Bar with Tony Hillerman, a glass of Jack Daniels in her hand. She’s dressed impeccably, as always, and she just said something smart and funny and wicked that cracked him right the hell up.

There’s Brubeck on the jukebox, too.

My heart goes out to Elaine’s husband Joe, to Kelly and Sharon and Patrick. Theirs is a great, great loss.

It is ours as well.

Elaine was damn good people. I am so lucky to have known her."

From our own Alexandra Sokoloff:

"There will never be anyone quite like her – our own Hedda Hopper."

Cara Black remembers laughing at Elaine’s recent emails:

"When she asked me help on the St Martins/MWA judging panel she wrote in full-Elaine style: au contraire (howeverthehellyousayit) you’ll help with the contest? Honest? I adore you. Gonna miss seeing you at the Edgars – but there’s Bcon right?

From Ali:

So how did I first meet Elaine Flinn?
 
Louise Ure like myself, with fellow critics Dave Montgomery and Larry Gandle were judges for the inaugural ITW Thriller Awards, hence had spent much time emailing each other during the judging process. Though I knew David and Larry well (having met up with them at Bouchercon in 2003), I had never met Elaine Flinn. After a most difficult journey from London; when I arrived at The Arizona Biltmore Hotel I walked into the bar and the first thing I heard as “Ali’s arrived!” and it was Elaine Flinn who sprang up from her chair and gave me a huge hug. My travel stress just evaporated with that embrace. I enjoyed hanging out with Elaine during that weekend. She was so full of energy, fun and her laugh infectious. Just thinking about her today puts a smile on my face. At Thrillerfest, she even insisted on me joining her table at the ITW awards banquet with Larry Gandle and David Montgomery. She saved a seat for me and placed me next to one of my literary heroes F. Paul Wilson [as she knew that ‘The Keep’ was one of my all-time favourite novels]. She was just so thoughtful.
 
She championed many writers, helped people – but the greatest memory I have was when in New York with Mike Stotter the following year for the second Thrillerfest Conference. I pulled out a copy of “Deadly Vintage” a terrific mystery featuring her alter-ego Molly Doyle. I asked Elaine if she would sign it for me as I absolutely loved the book. In typical Flinn fashion she said “Oh that’s so sweet, but I thought you only read Noir?” I told her that “Deadly Vintage” was just wonderful, and she blushed and beamed replying simply “Thank you Ali, but more importantly thank you for introducing me to Nick Stone, you were right, “Mr. Clarinet” was one of my favourite books.” Again, typically Elaine was always supporting other writers.
 
She wil be missed by us all.

From Larry Gandle:

I have known and shared a lot of laughs with Elaine since I met her
at the Chicago Bouchercon. We spent a lot of time together at the
bar at the Thrillerfest in Phoenix. There is one photo that was humorous at the time which showed Elaine talking to a few of us with a cigarette held above her head and appeared to show her smoking from the top of her head.

As a radiation oncologist I advised her to quit or cut down but the addiction was set in for decades. I knew she would not live much longer as the cancer spread to her spine and brain. I asked her in September if she would consider going to the Bouchercon in Baltimore primarily to allow us to say goodbye and tell her how much we love her. Her oncologist said it would be too risky due to the chemotherapy.

Personally, I never tell a terminally ill patient they cannot travel to see family and friends for the last time unless it is truly impossible. Ironically, as it turned out she only lasted a few weeks longer.

 
And from Elaine’s daughter, Kelly:

 


"I wish you all could have met her and known her – there was only one and there will NEVER be anyone like her on the planet again.

 
Know that she loved you all – even if she may never have met you face to face – and that your good thoughts and prayers meant more to her than I can say."

A memorial service is being planned for Carmel, California. I’ll let you know the details as they’re finalized. In the meantime, God speed, Elaine.

Please share your own memories and wishes in the comments section.

How_i_remember_elaine_flinn

XOXO
Louise

Sorrow in New Mexico

by Pari

One of my favorite people, Tony Hillerman, died of pulmonary failure yesterday in an Albuquerque hospital. I’ll write about him next week. For now, I just wanted to mark his passing. While he lives forever in his books, it’s the man I’ll miss.

I know he’d want us to keep talking about candy and Halloween and writers’ foibles in the conversation below, so let’s do it.

I’m raising a Reese’s peanut cup to him right now . . .

Temptation: What’s your weakness?

by Pari

Halloween is a dangerous time at our house. Two or three weeks before the holiday begins, the bags of candy start rolling in — creamy MilkyWays, satisfying Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, crunchy Kit Kats — and get stowed, supposedly for safe keeping, on the shelves in my office closet.

I’m all right as long as the packages remain closed. But once my husband breaks into them, all bets are off. My willpower dissolves in the acid of desire. It’s ugly. If you could see me now, you’d cower at the glazed look in my eyes, the sugar-induced tremors coursing through my body, the stacks of empty Smarties’ wrappers on every surface of my desk . . .

Writing has the same pitfalls. I try to stay on the straight-and-narrow. I yearn to avoid excessive commas, errant ellipses, those alluring semicolons. Inevitably, something sets me off, some scene will remove the figurative finger from my dike of self-control and blow my abstinence to smithereens.

Yep. You guessed it.

I’m a metaphor slut, an anaolgy ho.

I don’t say this proudly. I’ve tried to mend my ways. I memorized the twelve steps at Flourishers’ Anonymous and, in a horrid moment of relapse, rewrote them all. Electric shock therapy just felt good. Tough love wasn’t tough enough.

Late at night when I can’t sleep, I lay the blame on my addiction to poetry. Damn you, Wallace Stevens! Curse you, William Carlos Williams. I’m thinking of sending my behavioral therapy bills to novelist Alice Hoffman. Believe me, every morning when the sun greets the crisp blue sky, I vow to unclutter my prose. By noon, I’m a simpering metaphorical mess.

As a reader, I’ve noticed other writers have particular weaknesses, too. I find solace in that.

For example: Most authors have favorite words. C.J. Cherryh, whose works I enjoy tremendously, loves the word "coolth."  I’m pretty sure she made it up and whenever I delve into one of her books, I look for it.

There are adverb junkies, sex-scene jonesers, multiple adjectival inserters, pedantic peacocks prone to alliteration, and experts who’ll spend more time writing about how a clock was made than plotting the entire story.

Authors have preferred actions too: standing, sitting, leaning a head against a shoulder, widening eyes, narrowing lips. Eyes twinkle, throats scratch.

We all do it. Every writer’s literary addictions come through.

So let’s roll around in the chocolate pleasure of conversation, the fondue of free speech.

What’s your writing temptation?
Have you noticed any author’s addictions? (Do you like them? Dislike?)
Or, simply . . . What’s your favorite candy this season?

Me? Since the Smarties are gone, I’m moving on to Paydays. I pick off all the peanuts first and then eat the gooey core . . . but that’s another post. 

the con of the art

by Toni McGee Causey

Seduction.

If we do it right, from the very beginning, it should be seduction. Luring the reader in, making them forget about the fact that we’re telling them lies. All lies. Lies that hold a truth somewhere, the promise of something rich and memorable. A rush, the suggestion of satisfaction, of bliss. Being sated, while making them forget it’s all based on deception.

 Making the experience personal, unique, something the reader believes they won’t find anywhere else. Something meant just for them. Theirs.

Seduction.

The opening to a novel is all about seducing, capturing the reader with just the right tone, the right shift of the body, so that they lean in a little. Tell me more.

The beginning of a story used to be difficult for me, until I realized what it was all about. It’s not about the set up, or the backstory. It’s not about the world or the place or the weather. It’s about titillation. Potential. It does not have to be about understanding, yet. The whole "they have to know this thing happened back then in order to know what that event means" scenario. You don’t start off a seduction of a partner by delving into what your parents did when you were seven or the unforgivable thing you’re ashamed of or exactly who your great-uncle was and why he left you the moose in his will. None of these things matter yet to the audience, and you can’t make them matter in the first two minutes.

You can, though, make them interested enough to stick around to find out more. Understanding will come later.

There are a few components to a good seduction.

Confidence. One hell of a weapon. If someone is nervous and jumpy and suffering flop sweat, it doesn’t exactly inspire a person to think anything following is going to be exciting. Or anything above insufferable. Likewise, starting off explaining too much can come across as wimpy, lacking in confidence. Pick a path, pick a voice, hone it. Own it. Have confidence in it.

Awareness. Pay attention to your partner’s signals. In writing, this translates as know your audience. Know their expectations, and then show them that you have the potential to deliver–in unexpected ways. Sure, you can break rules of the genre, but it’s the difference between being aware that pitching a three-way from the podium of the Southern Baptist convention is not going to get the same results as pitching the same thing in a bar after work.

Invitation. Your partner has to feel wanted. Needed. There needs to be an invitation to continue. Body language, intonation, phrasing, eye contact, laughter… in seduction, all of these things can come into play. You can’t seduce someone if you’re too busy paying attention to everyone else in the room–there would be the blunt sense of not mattering, not being needed, not being unique, and the lack of invitation would turn most people off. So, too, if you don’t raise a question or two in the beginning of the story. The sense that you need to tell this story, to them, that it’s critical, that they, the reader, are important, is primary. Put another way, this is the "don’t bore them with exposition" rule. Think back to standing at a party and having someone go on and on and on about themselves. They start sounding self-important, and you wonder why you even need to be there. They’d probably be saying the same thing without you, and immediately, you wish to be elsewhere. The reader senses this same thing, when there’s tons of exposition. Instead, plunge them into the story, into the conflict, and tantalize them with and interesting angle on what happened, or an interesting voice. Tease them.

Focus. Know what you’re promising, because you’re going to have to follow through. And as you go, you’ll be showing you know this, demonstrating some expertise that will continue the seduction, keep their interest until they’re too far gone to walk away. This means finishing what you started, the way you started it. If you start off with serial killers, ending with the Marx Brothers is probably a bad idea. Consistency. No one in the middle of great sex suddenly wants to start talking about the aliens you think landed and took over your in-laws.

Subtext. Build the tension. The surest way to crash the evening (or push away the reader) is to interrupt the flirting with a sudden need to have a heart-to-heart honest discussion of some issue that is very important to you–when that wasn’t the direction the evening was going. There are things that are said, and things not said, and seduction often takes place in that subtext, in the things not said.

I’ll admit here that I want to be seduced by good openings. I want to feel that rush of expectation, the heightened sense of promise. I have a good many books on my TBR pile because of the seduction of such openings… things like Sean Chercover’s Trigger City, Lori Armstrong’s Snow Blind, Harlan Coben’s Hold Tight, Robert Crais’ The Watchman, [I know, I am the last person on earth to read this one], Tasha Alexander’s A Fatal Waltz, and Zoë Sharp’s Third Strike [an absolutely terrific opening line]… okay, I just looked at my stack and there are more than fifty books in this one stack. In one room. There are stacks in each room.

How about you? What seduces you? And tell me something on your TBR pile (and I’ll follow up and put links to those titles). 

Edited to add links from the selections in the comments… (because links are wonky if I try to put them there):

The Given Day — Dennis Lehane
Lost Dog — Bill Cameron
Angel’s Tip — Alafair Burke
The Book of Lost Things — John Connolly
Money Shot — Christa Faust

The Confessions of Max TivoliAndrew Sean Greer

EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHEREJohn McFetridge

EIGHTBALL BOOGIE, Declan Burke
THE GIVEN DAY, Dennis Lehane
NOTHING TO LOSE, Lee Child
THE TIN ROOF BLOWDOWN, James Lee Burke
CHARM CITY, Laura Lippman

THE CRUCIBLE by Arthur Miller
WHITE NIGHTS by Ann Cleeves
BRASS VERDICT by Michael Connelly
TURNAROUND by George Pelecanos
SORROWS OF AN AMERICAN by Siri Hustvedt

The Blonde by Duane Swierczynski


oops, I missed a couple from earlier… and there are a few more!

SILENCE OF THE GRAVEArnaldur Indridason

WRONG KIND OF BLOODDeclan Hughes

ISABELLA MOONby Laura Benedict

THE HARD WAYLee Child

TROUBLE IN PARADISERobert B Parker

JUDGMENT IN DEATHJD Robb

Voodoo DollLeah Giarratano

ShatterMichael Robotham

the things I’ve learned about publishing (so far)

by Toni McGee Causey

You all know the feeling… you survive junior high school and finally you’re a freshman, and you’re going to put all that knowledge you accumulated about how to survive school to good use. That first day of high school, you have the jitters. Sure, maybe you’re the star basketball player or you’re on the dance team, or quite a few of your friends are going to be there and you already know you’re sharing fourth and sixth hour with them, so you’ve got a handle on this experience. You know how to navigate the hallways, you’re aware there’s going to be political crap you have to deal with (who likes whom, who’s destructive, who’s dangerous, manipulative), but on the whole, you can handle it. Even if you’re introverted and awkward, at least it won’t be as hard as the previous years, because you’ve been through hell (I defy anyone to tell me junior high is not hell). You’ve traversed it, lived to tell about it, and nothing could be that hard.

‘Til you get there. And the experience is both what you expected and so much more. You realize, then, how very low on the totem pole you really are, experience-wise. Those damned seniors? Man, they rule the school, they know all of the teachers, the quirks, which gangs are running what, how to avoid detention, how to suck up to which teacher to skip out on homeroom, exactly who forges the… uh, okay, moving on. And not only do those seniors know crap, but they’re usually driving the coolest cars or hanging out in the best spots.

By the time you’re a senior, you think, damn, I know how to do this. And when you move on from there to become a freshman in college, you usually bring that maybe-confident, maybe-cocky attitude with you, because damn, you’ve learned stuff and surely it’s not going to be all that different. You’re going to segue into college with the same panache and there won’t be that awful awkward period where it’s clear you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Only by the time you’re a sophomore or a junior, you look back at that pitiful freshman who thought they were so worldly and chuckle. Oh, to be so innocent.

There are a couple of analogies, of course, to publishing that I’d like to emphasize. One, you never know as much as you think you know, and there’s always someone who knows more. Pay attention to them–they’ll help you survive. Two, you will very likely survive it, if you don’t shoot yourself, so try hard not to do that.

When I was first writing, my focus was on screenwriting (that was my focus for my MFA), and the first major writing conference I attended was the Austin Film Festival. I probably learned more in that one weekend from other writers than I had the previous couple of years in school. There’s just not much else which substitutes for real world experience, and there are a tremendous number of incredibly generous writers out there who constantly make the effort to pass along what they’ve learned. They remember being freshmen. They probably had mentors of their own who helped them get through the rough spots, people who said, "yes, that’s how it’s done," or "no, be careful of that, it’ll kill you." They have the most important thing any freshman needs: information.

There is no crying in publishing. It’s a tough business because you are selling something that is unique (one hopes) and personal (you created it) and hope that it appeals to a wide audience. It is not a business where you can hide, really–your name is there on the book. Or your pseudonym. But it’s you, it’s your work, and that’s a bit scary. It’s more than just walking into that big long hallway the first day of school. It’s the first game of the season, and you have to perform, you’re in front of the crowd, and if you flub up, everyone’s going to notice. [I was on the dance team for four years, and by my junior year, was choreographing some of the dances. I got it into my head once to do this extravagantly difficult dance with a set of ripples–where everyone was moving one beat behind the person in front of them–and it was a fantastic sequence. Brilliant, in fact. We rehearsed the hell out of it. I was a little worried about a couple of people pulling it off, and they were nervous about remembering each step, because since it was a giant set of sequential moves, one wrong move by one person would ruin the effect. And I was in front of the group, seeing how I choreographed the whole damned thing. Whereupon I promptly went completely blank in the middle of the most difficult sequence and could not remember what came next, and so jumped to another move. The entire line behind me followed. Incorrectly. One half of the team kept going, the other half stood frozen, behind me, waiting for the cue as to what to do next, because they all realized in that moment that we’d screwed up.] [So yeah, public embarrassment. Not much phases me now.]

There are things I’ve learned in publishing–people have kept me from being that lone idiot out on the field, doing the wrong move in front of an entire stadium. Maybe some of this will be of help. None of it is new, ground-breaking, and I am hoping others chime in via the comments and add their own experiences.

1) There is an incredible euphoria when you first sell. Enjoy it. Embrace it. You deserve the thrill, and the joy.

2) Keep in mind you are not the first person who has sold a book. I know, it’ll feel like it, but there may be a couple of others out there.

3) You cannot do absolutely everything you hear about, marketing-wise. Nor should you try. There are going to be things which will work for you, and things you shouldn’t even bother trying, either because you don’t have the time or the money. You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.

4) Do put up a website. Do ask people to give you honest feedback. My first website had a background that was bright orange. I did not know it was that bright because for whatever reason, on my monitor, it looked more like a dark rust. In fact, it didn’t really look bright enough. It had been up for several months before I saw it on someone else’s monitor and after I QUIT BEING BLIND, I immediately sought to replace it. I think a couple of people may have mentioned that it "sure was orange," but I didn’t really listen to what they were trying to say. So, set your ego aside, ask, and listen. [That is probably the number one rule in anything, really.]

5) Do put up links from an image of your book’s cover to a place where it can be purchased online. I highly recommend finding a local indie who will be happy to ship autographed copies for you. [Or an indie you’ve visited elsewhere–treasure those booksellers.] If you guest blog somewhere, make sure that your full name is there, a link to your book and your book’s cover. I have purchased many books after reading guest blogs.

6) Book tours work for some, they don’t work for others, and it’s really going to be about trial-and-error to see what works for you. Unless you’re an extreme introvert who cannot speak to anyone whatsoever, drop in and sign stock where possible.

7) This is probably where the hard stuff goes. Publishing has an almost built-in self-fulfilling prophecy mentality at work. Hitting a best-selling list requires volume + velocity in some arcane voodoo spell that no one seems to know. You, by yourself, even with your efforts on the internet, cannot reach the nation. You can help boost your sales to some degree. For all of the marketing access we now have–blog ads, book trailers, websites, blurbs, success (if we call sales the measure of success) is determined by two separate things, which can sometimes join forces.

a) print run — if there is a large enough print run by your publisher to get your book into enough stores, then your book has a shot of doing well. More specifically, the larger the print run, the more likely your publisher will be willing to offer co-op dollars to the book stores (money / incentives) to get your book on a table or an end cap or in some sort of special that has a chance of catching a reader’s attention

b) word-of-mouth — this is where the book sellers and librarians can affect the writer’s career significantly, because if they like something and they hand-sell it to their customers / patrons, word can spread. Readers, however, are the tipping point. Book clubs which pick the book for discussion often recommend the book to other book clubs; readers tell other readers, or loan the book out. Word-of-mouth can mitigate a modest print-run because when it builds–if it builds–more and more readers will ask for the book, which means re-orders in book stores, which can lead to additional print runs, which can lead to the publisher noticing they have a sleeper hit on their hands, which leads to more marketing dollars spent, more effort on their part… etc.

8) You cannot manufacture word-of-mouth (the work has to do that on its own), and you cannot control the print run. Try not to make yourself crazy if the first book isn’t a runaway success.

9)

Women and Horror

by Alexandra Sokoloff

Shelleysharpejuliet

There’s an essay in the New York Times Review of Books tomorrow called “Shelley’s Daughters”, about contemporary women authors who are writing in the vein of psychological horror opened by such visionary authors as Mary Shelley, Shirley Jackson, and Charlotte Perkins Gilman.

And I’m in it.

Right there beside three other contemporary female authors whose powerful and disturbing work I love: Sarah Langan, Sara Gran, and Elizabeth Hand.

Wow. The New York Times. I mean, coming from Southern California, specifically from philistine Hollywood, I have to admit this is a little freaky. That’s, like, a real newspaper from a real city, read by actual grownups. It’s so big. And it has so many words. People routinely take a whole day out of their week just to read that paper.

So that’s the first slightly surreal thing about this.

But the other, really surreal thing is – those authors. Mary Shelley, Shirley Jackson and the lesser-known Charlotte Perkins Gilman, who wrote a short story called “The Yellow Wallpaper”, about a woman’s descent into madness when confined to her room to rest from an “hysterical condition” by her physician husband, which was an absolutely pivotal shift in my consciousness as a woman and a writer at the time that I read it. I’m linking to it so that anyone who’s missed it has a chance to see what I’m talking about.

130pxyellowwallpapercover

If I had to make a list of three authors who had done the most to influence and inspire what I write, and a bit how I live as a woman, that would arguably be it. The top three.

So to be considered in the same essay with them, in such a public forum, is a shockingly intimate thing.

And it means that I really am writing what I think I’m writing. That other people see it that way, too. Now, that might be sort of the point of all this writing to begin with, and I guess I’ve been becoming more aware of that from other reviews that I’ve gotten and from letters I get from readers and feedback I get in person at signings.

But I’ve never had it driven home in exactly this way before. That I am. Writing EXACTLY. What I think I’m writing.

Maybe other authors here don’t have the same genre identity problem going that I do. But look, it gets confusing. Depending on which bookstore or library you walk into, I’m shelved in horror (if there is even a horror section, which these days there usually isn’t), sometimes mystery/thriller, sometimes fiction and literature. I go to mystery, thriller, romance, horror, and even sci-fi/fantasy conferences, and have readers at each. Add to that the fact that as a screenwriter I would work on projects that could start out as adventure thrillers and end up as musicals, through that special process Hollywood calls “development”; and add to THAT my own personality disorder – I mean, chameleon nature – and the fact that my own publisher is careful not to call what I do “horror” – which by all accounts is a dead genre, at least for the time being…

Yes, I’d say I’m confused.

And it’s also frustrating because I know it’s hard for people to find my books. There’s no consistency. It’s worrisome – how many people just give up? I can’t tell you how often I’ve asked my agent if I should just write a straight thriller for the next book, and he always says, No, it’s going to take some time, but you’re doing something that nobody else is doing, and people will find you.

Well, reading that article made me realize that he has it right – that not many people at all are writing this kind of thing – and that’s why I got that shock of recognition seeing my name with Sarah Langan, Sara Gran and Elizabeth Hand, who ARE writing this kind of thing. What it is, is feminist horror. Or since the Right has somehow insidiously twisted “feminism” into as dirty a word as “politically correct” – even just feminine horror.

That’s what galvanized me about Shelley, Jackson and Gilman when I discovered them, growing up. Not just that they told ripping good scary stories, dripping with perverse sexuality and unnerving psychological insight, but that those stories were from an unmistakably and unrelentingly female point of view. About oppression and patriarchy and a kind of madness, but prophetic madness, that comes with always being the Other.

Statue

Let’s face it – women have a lot to say about horror. We live with violence on a much more intimate and everyday level than most men do. A walk out to the parking lot from the grocery store can on any given night turn into a nightmare from which some women will never fully recover.

I think security expert and author Gavin DeBecker got it exactly right when he said “A man’s greatest fear about a woman is that she’ll laugh at him. A woman’s greatest fear about a man is that he’ll kill her.”

Women know what it’s like to be prisoners in their own homes, what it’s like to be enslaved, to be stalked, to be prostituted, what it’s like to be ultimately powerless. And they know everything there is to know about rage, even when it’s so deeply buried they don’t know that’s what it is they’re feeling.

(When I start to think about it, the mystery to me is why more women AREN’T writing horror.)

Now, I’ve been writing for a long time, and I’ve known for a long time that that’s what I was exploring in my writing. And because I’ve worked in Hollywood and had to, you know, eat – I’ve learned how to couch that in entertainment, even write primarily about men, when the real story in the story is what’s happening with the women.

But we get caught up in all the chaotic day-to-day of being authors, especially fairly new authors, and we sometimes forget what it is we’re trying to say. We forget the mission statement.

And the mission might change, too, so subtly that we’re not aware of the change.

I know why some authors don’t read their reviews. I understand how it might be better to just write by your internal compass, and not worry about what gets said in print. And whoever said that if you’re going to read your reviews, you have to read them ALL as truth – the good and the bad – I think that person has it right. And I’ve read some whopping bad ones, and I have to – cringingly – admit the truth of them. (And there’s sometimes unexpected gold – I’ll always cherish the bad review that ended with: “I’ll buy her next book, but I’m not looking forward to it.”)

But now I understand a little better the value of outside criticism. Sometimes in all the day-to-day chaos, someone can suddenly remind you exactly who you are, and what you’ve been trying to do all along.

Authors, what would be your ideal list of three other authors to be compared with? Or who would be your three authors who influenced you the most as a writer? And/or – have you ever had a review that reminded you exactly what your mission was?

And readers, who would be the three authors who have influenced you the most as a person?

(As part of my program of complete overextension, I’m also guest blogging at Laura Benedict’s Notes from the Handbasket today as part of her Octoberguest! Series. More on the dark side….)

Welcome Guest Blogger Sean Chercover

A Crazy Idea?  Or The Future of Publishing?
So, Trigger City is
out and I’m in the midst of my tour, town-to-town, up and down the dial
… which makes Tess’s post about the evolution of author tours even more
painful.
In order to ease the pain, I’d like to talk about a crazy idea.
See,
I’ve often wondered why, with all the technology at our disposal, the
process of book cover selection hasn’t evolved.  It seems to me that a
book cover is just about the easiest thing in the world to
test-market.  It can even be done online.
Generally,
potential book covers are shown around the publishing house, to the
author and author’s agent, and perhaps most importantly, to the buyers
at some of the bigger bookstore chains.
But
why not gather feedback from the front-line booksellers, indie stores,
librarians, book clubs, and readers across the country?
Triggercitycover_plain_2
So I asked around, and mostly I heard that my idea was crazy, and variations on, “That’s just not the way we do things.”  But the forward-thinking folks at William Morrow were intrigued and agreed to let me share some of the book covers that were not chosen for Trigger City, and to gather feedback.
So
I’m psyched to offer you a glimpse behind the curtain and share a few
of these runner-up covers with you, along with a few words about the
deliberations that went into choosing. You can rate the different
designs, and we will share the feedback with the publisher.
This is just a fun experiment.  But looking forward, I see a time when we do this sort of thing before the final decision is made.  Wouldn’t that be cool?  Could this be the future?
Incidentally, I love the cover for Trigger City and
I think we chose the best one, but there were some other excellent
covers that didn’t get chosen, and I’m really curious to hear what
y’all think.
This interactive experiment takes place in the behind the scenes section of my website, here. When asked for username and password, enter "triggercity" (without the quotes) in both fields.
Let’s hear your opinion, on the covers and on this crazy idea…
[A
big thank-you to the good folks at HarperCollins for allowing me to do
this … and a HUGE thank you to the awesome gang at Murderati for having
me as a guest blogger.]

-Sean, it was our pleasure!-

Formerly a private investigator in Chicago and New Orleans, Sean
Chercover has since written for film, television, and print. His debut
novel, Big City, Bad Blood, received the Gumshoe and
Crimespree Magazine awards for best first novel, was shortlisted for
the ITW Thriller and Arthur Ellis awards, and is nominated for the
Shamus, the Barry and the Anthony Awards.
When he’s not on the road, you can find him in Chicago or Toronto.  Trigger City is his second novel.

             

What Gets Me Going

By Brett Battles

One of the things that has always drawn me to a story, right from when I first started reading as a kid, is when I’m taken to someplace new, someplace I’ve never been. Now, when I was a teenager, more often than not, this meant to space or other worlds guided there by the capable hands of Arthur C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, and James White to name a few. Occasionally I would dip into the world of fantasy, visiting Tolkien’s Middle Earth or journeying along with Thomas Covenant in Stephan Donaldson’s original Unbeliever series or even to Shannara in the first Terry Brooks’ book THE SWORD OF SHANNARA.

These books were perfect for me because I was always dreaming about places that lay beyond the forever-tan landscape outside my bedroom window in the Mojave Desert where I grew up. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Dirt, dirt everywhere, seeded only by sage brush and tumbleweeds.

I guess that’s why, in between those trips to space I took in my head, I was also pulled into the works of Alistair MacLean. ICE STATION ZEBRA, THE GUNS OF NAVARONE, WHERE EAGLES DARE, BEAR ISLAND…holy crap, I could just go on and on. Don’t think I read everything by Mr. MacLean, but I tried.

He served not only as another means of escape for me, but he was also my introduction to the international thriller. Later I would move on to Robert Ludlum and get lost in his European landscapes where an innocent man – usually – got sucked into an far from innocent plot. And, of course, there was Bourne. What a great character. An amnesiac assassin who found he could do things that even surprised him, and who was desperately searching for clues to his past, but then found a life that this new Bourne didn’t believe in. Brilliant.

Not only did these novels instill a love of thrillers, they also fueled my growing need to travel and see the world. In high school I was twice given the opportunity to go on a trip to Europe…I accepted both times. And in the three years after high school but before college, I spent a total of at least seven months out of the country…more Europe but also a lengthy stay in Mexico traveling deep into pre-rebellious Chiapas.

My love of thrillers and love of travel never died. Over the years there have been several more trips to Europe and three to Asia. And I’m not through. There is much of the world I am still hoping to see. Most of it, in fact.

And I guess, because of these two loves, it was only natural that I would want to write international thrillers. To be able to travel to interesting places and write about them? What could be better than that? Because, you see, I don’t like to write about places I haven’t been. It does happen. There are a few locations in my first two books and in my new one coming out next summer that I haven’t been to. But for the most part, I have walked the streets of the cities I write about. I have eaten the native food. I have breathed the air, and listened to the language, and observed how the locals interacted.

Not all authors need to do this. But for me it is a necessity. It gives me the confidence I need. Because I like to think that the locations my stories are minor characters themselves.

This is all a long, round about way of saying that as you read this (if you’re reading on the day I posted or the several before and after) I’m in London researching locations for my next Quinn novel, the one that will come out in 2010. I’m sure I’m have a blast. I’m positive I’m taking TONS of pictures and shooting gigabytes of footage. And notes are no doubt being scribbled in my little moleskine notebook. And the smile on my face will be genuine and unmovable because I will know how blessed I am to be able to be doing what I’m doing.

You see, that’s the point. Those writers out there still trying to find your voice or your “hook” or your whatever you want to call it, my advice is to use something you enjoy in your writing…whether it be travel, or a hobby, or a love of history, or a knowledge of music, or…

You get the picture.

Bottom line: You don’t have to write what you know, but you should write what you love.

So, what is it you love? (And since I’m traveling I’m unsure if I will be able to respond, but know that I will definitely read everyone’s comments!)

_________________________________

Song of the Day: LONDON CALLING by The Clash