Meet Katherine MacGilvray Pt 2

by Pari Noskin Taichert

A few weeks ago, you met Kat MacGilvray who now works as the bookings coordinator for the University of New Mexico Press. In that first interview, she focused primarily on her experiences as a bookseller at an independent store. This concluding part of the interview emphasizes her work with a publisher.

What are bookstores looking for when they schedule an event? Have you noticed any changes since you started in the biz?
It really varies. When I scheduled events for the bookstore, our goal was to provide a venue for the community — both our customers and local authors. That meant hosting a variety of events each month. There’s a philosophy behind it that a lot of independents hold — you compete with chains and online retailers by supporting your community and providing a voice for its artisans. Often that goes beyond having author events to hosting Girl Scout meetings or knitting groups.

Having worked in an independent bookstore for so long, I became pretty biased — I developed an assumption that chain stores only want to host big name authors. But in the last year at UNM Press, I’ve really been turned around. It all depends on the individual store, whether it’s Corporate Mogul Books or Mom & Pop. Our chain stores in Albuquerque have been tremendous champions of local and regional authors. Similarly, I’ve encountered a lot of independent bookstores that arrange events based entirely on co-op money. There’s nothing more frustrating than finding out a bookstore wants $150 to host a local author.

Now that you’re on the other side of the computer, how important do you think brick and mortar bookstores are to sales?
Oooooh. I’ll support brick and mortar bookstores until paper is outlawed. You simply cannot replace the enthusiastic promotion and handselling that comes from booksellers. It’s important to understand that people who work in bookstores are special folk; they’re putting themselves through school, or they’ve got loans to pay off, and they could easily make more money selling their plasma or something, but they workthere because they LOVE it. Those are the people you want selling your book.

Always make friends with booksellers.

What do you wish authors knew about booksignings? How about the bookstores? What do you wish they’d do?
Authors: Don’t lose hope in small groups.
Bookstores: Treat authors as you would a guest in your home.

NOIR “WHORES”

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"I was an actor in New York," said Charlie Huston, addressing fans, "which means I was a bartender."

First time novelist Marcus Sakey countered by saying, "I worked in advertising for ten years, which means I was a prostitute."

Wisecracks like this set the mood Thursday night when both writers appeared at the Poisoned Pen Bookstore in Scottsdale, Arizona.  Huston was promoting No Dominion, sequel to his popular vampire noir tale Already Dead.  Sakey, meanwhile, plugged The Blade Itself, a first novel with an unbelievable amount of buzz behind it (According to Murderati’s own Paul Guyot, Sakey is the next Lee Child).

9780345478252 I must come clean.  Before Thursday, I’d never read a single word from either of these guys.  But I felt compelled to see them.  Why you ask?

Seldom have I heard such praise for a pair of writers.  Word on the street says that Huston and Sakey have got the goods.  And who am I to argue with the street?  Argue with the street and you’ll find yourself with an ass full of asphalt.  (Wait… What the hell am I talking about?)

Anyways, I was not disappointed.  Both men spoke sincerely about the craft and business of writing with keen insight and wit.  A few highlights included…

  • Sakey recounting his days in the advertising field before becoming a novelist.  "I was working in one of those places where everyday I thought to myself, I could set the building on fire."
  • Huston’s imitation of his first literary agent.  "Hey, great book.  I almost finished it!"
  • Sakey’s advice for writers seeking agents.  Go to bookstores and check out the acknowledgment pages of your favorite writers.  If they mention their agent, chances are they might be someone you’d want to work with.
  • Huston working the terms FETISHISTIC and APOCALYPTIC GLORY into the conversation.
  • Sakey gleefully flipping Huston the bird after being reminded he’d been fired from his advertising job.

Hm_bookcover_1 In self-deprecating fashion, both authors claimed to be industry "whores."  I don’t buy it. 

While I have only read the first few chapters of Sakey’s Blade, the novel immediately establishes an uncompromising voice pandering to no one.  And Huston, who claimed he had to sign away his first born child to write the Marvel comic Moon Knight, has kept his hardboiled street cred in tact.  I devoured the hardback edition (collecting issues 1-6) in one sitting.  Huston’s Moon Knight has all the classic comic book elements–larger than life characters, brutal fist fights, tough guy banter–while touching on themes of guilt, redemption, and self awareness. 

Whores?  I think not.  But it does bring to mind a question I’ve struggled with.  (Yes–again with the questions)B000fxw2oo_01a2fzkgk21wip61__ss400_sclzz_1

As writers, how much are you willing to compromise your art for a chance at better book sales?  Most would agree keeping your voice as a writer is essential, but so is paying the mortgage.  So where do you draw the line?  And how do you know when you’ve crossed it?

My thanks to Huston and Sakey for doing what they do.  It was great meeting you guys. 

Under the Influence

I asked this question of the Good Girls last month and have been dying to hear from you all ever since:

Who are your writer role models?

Now, I don’t mean who influenced your writing style, although that’s a perfectly fine question to answer, too.

What I mean is, who influenced your LIFE style?

I’ll give you some examples, since I’ve been thinking about this lately.

– Perhaps my earliest writer role model was not a writer, but she played one on TV.  Rose Marie, on the Dick Van Dyke Show. I had no desire to be a writer at the time I was watching those reruns.  I was actually more inclined toward being some kind of a biologist or vet – I had a virtual menagerie of dozens of animals as a child and would have been surprised to hear anyone say I’d grow up to be a writer.  But one thing for sure – I knew I didn’t want to be Laura Petrie.  No matter how much Rose Marie complained, and even though I cringed to see her fetching coffee, I still thought she had the great job – hanging out in a room with the guys and being creative and funny all day long.   Plus dating after.   And lo and behold, I end up spending a good ten years of my life as a screenwriter, often in a room with a bunch of guys, absolutely NOT fetching coffee, but being creative all day long, and yeah, often, dating afterward.

– Another fairly early one, God help me, was Dorothy Parker.   I think we all go through that phase of falling in love with her scathing poetry and defiant cynicism and emotional vulnerability.  I’ve done performance readings of her stories for various stage retrospectives and reveled in the life and fire of her language.   The glamour and wit and fun of hanging out with the Algonquin Round Table is a great fantasy that we all get a taste of at conventions like ThrillerFest and Bouchercon, and I think it’s hard for any woman not to see herself in those brutal alone-by-the-phone ramblings of Dottie’s.   Now, I’ll refrain from going into detail about how I’m emulating her love life, but I do have this quiet but enormous pride that I’m following in her footsteps as a Writers Guild union activist.   Every time I’ve wanted to get off that WGA/WriterAction merry-go-round I think of Ms. Parker and keep on keeping on.

– Lillian Hellman, for sure my favorite American playwright.    Notorious leftist activist as well.   The whole thing with Hammett – not just for real, but fictionalized in THE THIN MAN.   Do I seek out that kind of relationship out?  Hah.

– Anais Nin… yes, well, here’s where the writer lifestyle thing starts to get out of control.   Affairs, incest, bigamy… do I really need to go there?   Yet all that lush and overblown eroticism made for some amazing writing, and I can’t deny the influence.   

So… who are YOUR writer role models?

– Alex

 

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ITW is having a cool new promotion.

 

Letters From The Edge

JT Ellison

I’m in New York today on a research trip. It’s my first real trip to the city, a brief two day affair, and I’ll report back on all the excitement next week. In the meantime, here’s something a little different from the email files, from my guest blogger Robert Fate. Beautiful…

JT —

Ran into something interesting. A poem by Jim Harrison. You know how we were discussing Neal Barrett, Jr., the Wiley Moss Mystery Skinny Annie Blues guy? Well, this is his favorite poem. Can’€™t divulge how I got this, but you’€™re going to want to read it. I’€™ll send it along.

Best,
Robert Fate

The Old Days

In the old days it stayed light until midnight and rain and snow came up from the ground rather than down from the sky. Women were easy. Every time you’€™d see one, two more would appear, walking toward you backwards as their clothes dropped. Money didn’€™t grow in the leaves of trees but around the trunks in calf’€™s leather money belts though you could only take twenty bucks a day. Certain men flew as well as crows while others ran up trees like chipmunks. Seven Nebraska women were clocked swimming upstream in the Missouri faster than the local spotted dolphins.  Basenjis could talk Spanish but all of them chose not to.

A few political leaders were executed for betraying the public trust and poets were rationed a gallon of Burgundy a day. People only died on one day a year and lovely choruses funneled out of hospital chimneys where every room had a field stone fireplace. Some fishermen learned to walk on water and as a boy I trotted down rivers, my fly rod at the ready. Women who wanted love needed only to wear pig’€™s ear slippers or garlic earrings. All dogs and people in free concourse became medium sized and brown, and on Christmas everyone won the hundred-dollar lottery. God and Jesus didn’€™t need to come down to earth because they were already here riding wild horses every night and the children were allowed to stay up late to hear them galloping by. 

The best restaurants were churches with Episcopalians serving Provencal, the Methodists Tuscan, and so on. In those days the country was an extra two thousand miles wider, and an additional thousand miles deep. There were many undiscovered valleys to walk in where Indian tribes lived undisturbed though some tribes chose to found new nations in the heretofore unknown areas between the black boundary cracks between states. I was married to a Pawnee girl in a ceremony behind the usual waterfall. Courts were manned by sleeping bears and birds sang lucid tales of ancient bird ancestors who now fly in other worlds. Certain rivers ran too fast to be usable but were allowed to do so when they consented not to flood at the Des Moines Conference. Airliners were similar to airborne ships with multiple fluttering wings that played a kind of chamber music in the sky. Pistol barrels grew delphiniums and everyone was able to select seven days a year they were free to repeat but this wasn’€™t a popular program.

In those days the void whirled with flowers and unknown wild animals attended country funerals.  All the rooftops in cities were flower and vegetable gardens. The Hudson River was drinkable and a humpback whale was seen near the 42nd Street pier, its head full of the blue blood of the sea, its voice lifting the steps of the people in their traditional anti-march, their harmless disarray. I could go on but I won’€™t. All my evidence was lost in a fire but not before it was chewed on by all the dogs that inhabit memory. One by one they bark at the sun, moon and stars trying to draw them closer again.

by Jim Harrison

My favorite part is where he marries the Pawnee girl behind the waterfall. The whole thing is visual, but that’s special.

Robert Fate, author of Baby Shark
Robert Fate Bealmear
www.robertfate.com

Independents Falling: Correction or Foreshadowing?

(Your usual Friday hostess, the ever gracious and beautiful J.T. Ellison, leaves this message for all of you: “I’m in New York today on a research trip. It’s my first real trip to the city, a brief two day affair, and I’ll report back on all the excitement next week.” Subbing for her today is one of her very cranky cohorts who has become a little less cranky with this news.)

NAOMI HIRAHARA

First it was news of A Clean Well-Lighted Place closing its doors in San Francisco. And soon after that announcement, it was Cody’s Telegraph in Berkeley. The dam then seemed to break, at least in large cities. Bob and Bob in Palo Alto. Murder Ink in New York City. Dutton’s Beverly Hills. Luis Rodriguez’s Tia Chucha’s Cafe and Cultural Center. Book Soup in South Coast Plaza. And now possibly Dutton’s Brentwood might be erased by redevelopment. 

Changing demographics and pricey real estate, I thought. The impact of Internet sales and chain stores. Increased competition for our recreational time.

Two additional pieces of news that opened January (and we’re only three weeks into the new year) bode badly for publishing, especially in the independent realm—the bankruptcy of Advanced Marketing Services (AMS) and Independent Press Association (IPA).

So what the heck is going on? And for most of us who have never really heard of AMS or IPA (like myself), should this concern us?

The AMS Story

The humble start of AMS follows one of those homespun, rags-to-riches storylines: its first shipment as a book wholesaler was a children’s book, which was delivered to a Price Club from the back of one of the cofounder’s station wagon in 1982. The company quickly grew from there—to being the primary book supplier to four Price Clubs to securing deals with Price Club’s successor, Costco, as well as Sam’s Club and Pace Membership. Large distribution centers were opened in major cities; AMS became a publicly traded company; and international agreements were forged in Great Britain and Mexico. Among the flurry of acquisitions AMS initiated during the past decade was the purchase of Publishers Group West (PGW), the esteemed and largest distributor of independent publishers in North America.

Why has this great behemoth of a company, which boasts $900 million in sales on its website, declared Chapter 11? Evidence of the cracks in the company was revealed in the 2005 conviction of three executives in a scheme to falsify earnings and defrauding publishers of co-op advertising funds (news release, Office of the U.S. Attorney, Southern District of California). Leadership also went through a merry-go-round of changes.

Perseus Books Group has stepped in to offer distribution rights for PGW clients, many of them small presses whose survival greatly depends on recouping both the monies and inventory owed to them during the last quarter of 2006, arguably the most profitable season for publishers. (Perseus actually will be acquiring a PGW client, Avalon Publishing Group, which includes Caroll & Graf.)

An AMS creditor’s committee has also been formed, comprised of Random House, Penguin, Hachette Book Group, Grove/Atlantic and Wisdom Publications. Two of these publishers—Grove/Atlantic and Wisdom Publications—are PGW clients, so independents hope that their interests will be represented during the bankruptcy negotiations.

And on a more personal note, I have friends who produce books which are distributed by PGW. (PGW is very discriminating, so I remember how happy they were when they finally were accepted as a PGW client.) I’m afraid to contact them to see how they are doing. I know that business was hard to begin with, and now this. Devastating.

IPA

There are these magazines born out of the zine revolution of 1990s—you know, those photocopied and stapled in garages, which also served as the main rehearsal area for punk bands. Well, these zines have grown up. I’m not really part of this world, but I’m a big fan of Giant Robot. It was actually through publisher Eric Nakamura’s blog that I learned about the fall of GR’s distributor IPA, which distributed the now glossy mag to newsstands throughout the country.

Again, this will affect independent publishers; some have announced closures already.

So are all these bankruptcies and closings coincidental? Rather than a trend, are they a correction of bad, illegal, or perhaps unimaginative business practices? Or is it something more?

In this publishing game, it’s all about distribution. How to get your product, whether it be books or magazines, out to its readers. I won’t go all red, white, and blue on you and talk about the need for a variety of voices in a democracy. But it is particularly disturbing that in the case of AMS, fraud definitely played a role in compromising the integrity of a company that was responsible for distribution of so many independent publishers. And who knows—with large publishers owed so much (Random House, $43.3 million; Simon & Schuster, $26.5 million; Penguin Putnam, $24.6 million; the list goes on)—is it only a matter of time before midlist authors at these houses take some kind of hit?

In terms of book selling, there are glimmers of hope, daffodils in the snow. Books Inc. has taken over A Clean Well-Lighted Place and one of the co-owners of (ACWLP) has already started a new venture, Bookshop West Portal in San Francisco. A Sister in Crime, Julie Ann Swayze has launched an independent bookstore, Metropolis Bookstore, in the middle of downtown Los Angeles to great fanfare, with expansive writeups in Publishers Weekly and the Los Angeles Times. And independent bookstore proponent and author Keith Raffel happily reports that his beloved store, Bob and Bob, has secured a new location.

Producing, distributing, and selling books are a tedious and expensive business. For most, especially the independents, it’s a labor of love. To see some players treat it with such disrespect is disappointing, to say the least.

To keep up to date with the AMS bankruptcy and the unfortunate repercussions felt by PGW as well as publishers, both large and small, check out www.galleycat.com, www.pw.com, and Radio Free PGW (http://radiofreepgw.blogspot.com/index.html) Also, the online archives of the San Diego Union-Tribune (www.signsonsandiego.com). (AMS is headquartered in San Diego.)

Save The Last Draft For Me

Things are getting quite exciting in Simonville.  I received the ARCs (Advanced Reading Copies) for Accidents Waiting To Happen last week and the preproduction galleys a couple of months ago.  The book will be on bookshelves in six weeks. 

So, am I satisfied with the end product?  No, not really.

The problem is every time I read the book, I want to tinker, and boy have I done some tinkering.  Just to explain, Accidents was first published in 2002 by a small press.  When I submitted the manuscript, I considered it to be the final draft.  When the rights returned back to me in 2005, I decided I wanted to get the book republished.  It didn’t get a fair crack in the marketplace and I wanted to see if I could resell it.  It would have been easy to shove the thing in the mail without looking at it, but I thought I should give the book the once over before sending it.  I rewrote the book. If you compare 2002 version with the 2007 version, the first sentence isn’t even the same.  This wasn’t some manic aberration; I saw how I could do things better.  I’d changed as a writer.  Accidents was the first major thing I started writing back in ’98.  During the re-read, I saw things that I didn’t see back then.  Better things.  Sharper things.  The book didn’t need a polish.  It needed stripping back to the bare wood, a coat of fresh stain applied then some lacquer.  There was nothing fundamentally wrong with the original, but I saw a different way of telling the same story.  I think the revised and updated version is a reflection of me as a more grown up writer (please take the grownup part with a pinch of salt.  On second thought make that a fist of salt).   

So, am I satisfied with the new and improved end product?  No, not really.

The problem is when I received the galleys a little while ago, I saw there was room for tweaks.  A little touch here.  A little touch there.  A cute new angle on a couple of the scenes.  Maybe my bad guy should drive one of those Pontiac Solstices?  I like those.  He’d look mega bad in one of those bad boys.  I had to stop myself at that point.  I wasn’t making changes for changes sake, but each day I saw a different point of view on the story.  I’m always going to see spots where I could change a word, detail or even a scene. 

A common question I get asked is how many drafts I go through before the book is ready.  The last draft is when I’m sick of looking at the damn thing.  There’s a point when I’ve put everything into the story that I can possibly put into it.  This point usually comes after spending two hours debating with the cats on whether a character should tie his necktie in a Windsor or half-Windsor knot.  Unfortunately, put a few months distance between the manuscript and me and my brain has had time to come up with new ideas on the same subject.  I shouldn’t be allowed to think.  This is why I haven’t read the ARCs for Accidents and I don’t plan on doing so.  Enough is enough.  The book is finished.  It’s as good as it’s going to be.  The real answer to how many drafts I need to write before the book is ready is there is no final draft.  I can always make improvements.  As I improve as a writer, I get more critical of my work.  I can always do better.

So am I satisfied with the final end product?  Yes, I am.  I think Accidents is a good book and I hope everyone else will too…

Yours critically,
Simon Wood

ON THE BUBBLE WITH SIMON WOOD

It is said – one picture is worth a thousand words.  So take a gander at this photo of Simon Wood.  Looks like the guy next door, right?  Clean cut, happy smile -loves his dog, Royston -just the epitome of a happy-go-lucky guy who waves at his neighbors, helps elderly women across the street, catches the ball for the kid next door and throws it back with a huge grin.  Just your all-around nice guy.  Hmmm.  Hard to believe that open, charming smile belongs to a guy who hunches over a laptop until the wee hours conjuring murder, fear, and enough horror to make you hide under the covers.  Mr. Charm here has done just that in countless short stories, four horror anthologies, four books – CRESTFALLEN’S WIDOW, DRAGGED INTO DARKNESS, ACCIDENT’S WAITING TO HAPPEN and his latest – WORKING STIFFS.   Oh, and did I mention several articles in Writer’s Digest?

I’ve known Simon for quite some time – I always want to hug him when I see him.  He just does that to me.  But after I began reading his work…well, now I just blow him a kiss and leave it at that.  See, I’m afraid of the dark.  I admit it.  And – well, Simon scares the hell out of me now.  I mean, anyone who can come up with some of the stories he’s done – well, I’d rather stay on his good side.

But not today.

Simonandroystonlow SIMON WOOD   http://www.simonwood.net

EE:  Scuttlebutt Station reports the real reason you moved to the U.S. was to infiltrate the Northern California chapter of Mystery Writers of America to suss out the rumors that the surplus of talent there is a result of the unique weather conditions surrounding the San Francisco Bay Area.  Don’t tell me your Brit handlers think that just because the climate surrounding San Fran is the key to the best French bread (Sourdough to the unenlightened) in the world might have something to do with growing creativity!

SW:  I must admit I have a bread addiction.  I used to travel to France for bread.  Living in Breadtown by the Bay seemed like a cheaper alternative.  Then I saw the house prices.  I’d leave but I’ve blown all my bread on bread.  That’s why I turned to writing.  I’m hoping to earn enough to cover my addiction.

Oh, very clever – but you don’t fool me.  I happen to have it on good authority that you’re working undercover for Ali Karim who is planning an expose for SHOTS MAGAZINE.  I’ll plead for mercy in your behalf – but I can’t promise anything, okay? 

EE:  But then, my number one Brit spy has another version for your immigrating to the colonies.  He tells me that Fergie was smitten with you when she first saw you race those single-seaters in old Blighty – and she’s still sending you flowers.  How well is Julie handling this?

SW:  No, I came to this country for a different Fergie, she belonging to the black eyed peas variety.  Julie handles it well.  She’s hoping someone will take me off her hands.

A different Fergie and black eyes peas?  I’m sorry, darling…but you really lost me there.  Oh, wait.  I get it.  Answer #44a/397/TK  when being interrogated by Evil E.  Yes, yes – I know all about that code being passed around Mysteryville.  Like I’ve said – I have spies everywhere.

EE:  So, Simon – I understand you have a thing about elephants.  What does Royston think about this?

SW:  Lainey, I’m not sure what you’re referring to here???

Oh, sure – use your pet name for me here will you?  If you think that’s gonna soften me up and make my questions less intense – think again, baby.  I don’t fall over that easy.  Well, that’s not to say I can’t be had – but the price is high.

EE:  I’m hearing rumbles that you plan to fly over and buzz Barbra Streisand’s beach front villa just for kicks.  Guess you never heard about the guy she sued, huh?  You ready for her heat?  The publicity will NOT endear you to her fans.  But then, now that I think of it – I doubt they read.

SW:  I’m doing her the favor.  She needs some good buzz after cussing out a heckler.  I do what I can for Babs. 

True.  That’s awfully kind of you.  She is getting rather long in the tooth – and I imagine her career could use a boost or two.  By the way – I know a few good lawyers just in case.  In fact, you could always sic Dylan Schaffer on her or John Hart.  Dylan’s in South America now, but John might be willing to take time out from his next mega-hit and help out.  Call me, okay?

EE:  Horrorville is abuzz with talk about a certain jealous writer (name withheld for security reasons) blabbing that the reason you write creepy-scary stuff is because you’re really afraid of the dark and your therapist insists it will help you manage turning off the lights at night.  Here’s your chance to squelch that dastardly rumor.

SW:  Jealous people say mean things.  I ain’t afraid of the dark.  No night lights in my bedroom, although Royston’s eyes do glow in the dark.  He makes for a great dachshund flashlight.  Mirrors at night, that’s a different story…

I think I’ll leave that one alone.

EE:  You’ve just rented a billboard on the freeway heading for the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge – what does it say?

SW:  Where’s the sodding cycle lane?

Oh, hell, Simon!  That’s not fair.  I wanted something profound – earth shattering – scintillating – explosive!

EE:  So – what’s this I hear about you wanting Selma Hayek to sit on you lap?  Is this something you’d like to share with us, Simon?

SW:  Selma said, "I keep waiting to meet a man who has more balls than I do."  I’d just like to know whether I pass muster.

Oh.

EE:  Uh, after that – I think we’ll just ease into one of my regular questions.  Sound of clearing throat goes here.  Which writer would you love to have all to yourself (note: I have eliminated ‘cozy’ in deference to our Head Mistress) – in a dark corner of the bar at LCC next month?

SW:  Well, not all authors get the kind of advances they would like.  This is where I come in.  I lend a little money here, a little money there.  I just request that when they pay back my generosity they include a little gratuity.  So I have a number of writer friends who’ve yet to repay my kindness.  I won’t embarrass anyone by saying who they are, but I’ll be needing a dark corner.  The darker the better.

Gratuity?  Uh, isn’t that called ‘vig’?  And now that I think of it – money lenders usually have a sign outside their place of business – three balls, right?  So listen up, Simon – if you took those three balls…and …well, you could call Selma then.  You will keep us posted, won’t you?

After that – I think we’re out of here, folks…

But do stop by again – coming attractions include, besides the rest of my blogmates (why should they get a free pass?) – and not in the following order:  Jim Born, David Corbett, Lee Goldberg, Doug Lyle, Joan Hess, Gillian Roberts, Phil Hawley, Dave White & Bryon Quertermous together!, Bob Levinson, Keith Snyder, Barry Eisler, Suzanne Beecher, Kevin Burton Smith, Ken Bruen, Lee Child and Marcus Sakey.  And return engagements by …well, never mind – you’ll just have to drop in and see for yourself.

Hmmm…I just noticed I only have three women listed.  I wonder what a shrink would have to say about that?

Repetitive Virginity

By Pari Noskin Taichert

My favorite time-stealing, attention-sucking, procrastination-aiding computer game is Tumblebugs. After each round, a humorous saying pops up as a kind of reward. My favorite is, "Confidence is what you feel before you understand the situation."

Ah, Dear Grasshopper, it’s true.

A few years ago, I was in full swing, agonizing about being a small-press author. Should I wait to see if BELEN would sell to a big NYC publisher? Would I doom myself to a tiny career by staying with the University of New Mexico Press? Oh, hell, what should I have for breakfast?

I’m sure most writers often succumb to this weird desire to try to predict the future. We’re victims of the feeling that a wrong move can cast us, and our works, into oblivion quicker than snow melting on a sunny sidewalk.

One of the people from whom I sought perspective was Barbara Peters of Poisoned Pen Bookstore and PP Press fame.

She said, "Pari, you’re only a book virgin once."

Alas, my publishing cherry had already been popped.

Peters is right, though. Debut authors (Hey, J.T. and Alex, what do you think?) only have one chance to be fresh and new–without the outward expectations that come from a more established career.

However, I find it a tad inaccurate for those of us who have been at this profession a little longer.

Without lapsing into too much grooviness, I’d like you to look at this link. Here, you see THE FOOL in a traditional tarot deck. (I have a much prettier deck and might be persuaded to bring it to LCC or Malice this year — and do some readings — if enticed abundantly. But I digress . . . )

If you look at the card, you’ll see a youth, haversack on his back, dreamy and joyous expression on his innocent face. Look a little closer and you’ll notice he’s about to step off a cliff.

Yep. I think that’s a marvelous metaphor for how I’m feeling right now (and why the saying from Tumblebugs might be more apt).

Book #3 is at the publisher; I got the 13-digit ISBN on Friday. Rather than feeling the ennui of the initiated, I’m incredibly optimistic.

I’m not the only one who isn’t jaded, though experience might tempt many a writer to focus only on the negatives. Most novelists I know think that this, their next novel, might be the one that breaks out, that establishes unequivocally a career, that makes enough that they can relinquish half of their promotional responsibilities, or earns at least the dollars necessary for their children’s first year at a state university.

Indeed, I think many of us become blithering optimists with each new release AND with each project begun.

We become book virgins again and again and again . . .

What say you, fellow writers?
Do you feel this way? Or, do you exercise caution in your heart, know not to expect too much?

What say you, fellow readers?
Is there anything comparable in other fields? Heck, do you feel this way, too, each time one of your favorite authors comes out with a new book?

BTW:  A moment of gratitude and silence to honor MLK today. And, when you’re through with the quiet, go to this site and listen.

ART VS. AUDIENCE: More Questions from the New Guy

When asked how he became a bestselling author, Elmore Leonard replied, I started writing only the parts people wanted to read. 

Now, I’m paraphrasing an interview I read years ago, so the quote might not be exact.  But the sentiment is something that has stuck with me.

I only want to write the parts people want to read. 

I never want to bore and audience.  I want don’t want their minds to wander away from the page.

Of course, you’ll always bore someone.  If you keep the action at a fast boil, some will clamor for more characterization, more personal background (they want to know characters’ favorite breakfast cereals, the names of their pet iguanas, what they read on the can).  But Delve into the protagonist’s life too deeply, and others will thumb through the pages wanting you to "get on with the plot, damn it!"  The solution seems obvious.  Find the middle ground and you’ll find the biggest possible audience.  Right?

I can’t help but feel that danger lingers in that line of thinking.

Alexandra Sokoloff wrote a great post yesterday on style.  What happens to style (or voice, or storytelling) when the writer questions his choices based not on his own preferences, but on the preferences of this unknown audience?  And who can really guess what people want?  If I constantly try to please everyone, who do I really please?

So instead, do I ignore this invisible audience, and write from instinct and heart?

A voice in my head screams, "No friggin’ way." 

I can think of two best selling authors who prove my point (and no I will NOT name names).  They’ve sold millions and made millions and pretty much have a guarantee that whatever they scribble down will be published.  But ask their fans, and I’ll bet they enjoyed the authors’ middle works the best, not the 10,000 page rambling "epics" they’ve just produced.  My guess is that these bestsellers have let their egos take the wheel and jammed their audience in the back seat.

Then what’s the solution?  Do we strive for art, audience be damned?  Or do we try to see our work from another perspective and let the thought of audience become our internal editors?  And if the latter is the case, how do we keep from losing our voice?

The new guy needs answers people.