Dream A Little Dream

I had a fortune cookie this week. The slip of paper said —

“Dream lofty dreams, and as you dream, so you become.”

I smiled when I read it, knowing that it was quite apropos
for my life right now. It’s a wonderful indicator of how I’m feeling today. The
past few months have been a whirlwind of good news. And this week, I received
some more.

You may already know, but Killer Year will have an anthology
of short stories coming out from St. Martin’s Minotaur in Winter, 2008, which
will be edited by the venerable Lee Child. Pretty damn cool. Let me take this
moment to say THANK YOU to all the Killer Year members, the mentors, MJ Rose
and Scott Miller, for helping, advising, and getting things done.

Once again, the industry has smiled upon us newcomers. It
has become readily apparent that this community feeds on its good will toward
others. We must all be floating on some sort of cosmic karma bubble, because
the more involved I become, the more I see this.

Established authors help new authors. Big presses do favors
for small presses. New authors band together to help each other and in so
doing, start to raise awareness for their books, their personalities, their
careers. New groups of debut authors have been formed — my favorite is The
Debutante Ball, the new women’s fiction group. There’s also the young adult
authors of 2007, who are doing some amazing work for each other.

Hubby and I had the distinct pleasure of hosting Pari
Taichert in our home and fine city this week. You think the Internet does Pari
justice? Think again. Irrepressible is the best term I can come up with. We
stayed up much too late two nights in a row, drinking a lovely McWilliams’s
Shiraz I’ve been keeping back for months for the occasion. We talked a lot
about this industry, about the future of our careers, about blogging in general
and Murderati in particular. And I realized something.

We ALL want success, and we ALL want to see our friends succeed.
And as long as we keep that in mind, this industry, genre fiction, mysteries
and thrillers, will continue to thrive and grow.

And I’m just so damn honored to be a part of it with you.

Oh, and that fortune? I promptly spilled Diet Dr. Pepper on
the paper and had to rush to save it. I hope that’s an indicator of what my
career has in store for me. Ups, downs, highs, lows, but all around, dreams
fulfilled.

Wine of the Week — The McWilliam’s Shiraz, of course.

Superstitious–Me?

Except for avoiding the color green in all its guises, I’m not very superstitious. I’ll walk under ladders, cross a black cat’s path and swim less than an hour after eating. Daring, that’s me. But I’m horrifically superstitious when it comes to writing. I was like this when I raced cars. Interchangeable parts weren’t interchangeable. Once a wheel was used on the front right side, it always stayed on the front right side until it was replaced. Rose joints got screwed into the same push rods. Bolts held on the same pieces of suspension. I labeled everything so it wouldn’t get mixed up. I apply the same irrationalities to writing, but I feel I’ve gone the extra mile. This “profession” has turned me into a neurotic basket case. Writing is such a subjective world where there is no right and wrong that to tempt fate is folly. Well, that’s my take on it anyway.

I feel the pressure of the writing gods on me daily. They watch me all time and it doesn’t take much to tick them off and make them punish me with a rejection slip. So I’m careful about what I do.

I don’t throw away my novel manuscripts. Hold on a sec. Julie’s telling me to tell the truth. Okay, I don’t just not throw away the manuscripts, I don’t throw away the drafts, from the first to the last. I do eventually, but not until the book is on the bookshelves in the stores. Until then, I live in a tinderbox of potential so as not to tempt fate. Now, this isn’t just an irrational fear. Truly, it isn’t. I have proof to back that one up. Twice, not once, but twice, I’ve gathered up the manuscript, said to myself, “won’t be needing this again,” and tossed it in the recycle bin only to learn a few days later that the publisher has gone bust or decided not to publish. My cockiness led to my downfall. So now I don’t throw out my manuscripts. As soon as I see my book safe and sound on a bookshelf, then I can release my manuscripts to recycle heaven.

Another thing I do is cross my fingers when I open emails and letters from editors and magazines. Apparently, by crossing my fingers, the contents of the response will change. Considering that my acceptance to rejection ratio is 1 to 5, this method isn’t that successful, but I have to look on the bright side. My acceptance rate could be a lot worse if I didn’t cross my fingers. Pick the bones out of that, Professor Stephen Hawking.

Combined with my finger crossing is a moment of prayer. It goes along the lines of “don’t let this be a no,” then I open the envelope with my crossed fingers. I think this prayer is the reason for the success of my finger crossing.

There’s a lot of anxiety in a writer’s life—well, there is mine, and most of it is self-inflicted—because the writing world is an unpredictable one. Luck seems to feature in one’s success. How many NY Times bestsellers were on the verge of giving up after a million rejections, but then gave it one more shot and everything changed? Plenty. Superstition is irrational, but so is writing. It’s a crazy profession, so superstition is warranted, and you’ll forgive me if I hang on to mine.

Simon Wood

PS: The cover "flats" and the galley arrived for Accidents Waiting to Happen arrived this week. March doesn’t seem all that far away now. 🙂
PPS: A non-fiction piece went to Mystery Scene magazine. It’ll be out in Issue #99, April 2007. I’ve been trying to crack their nut for awhile.

Do a Murakami

NAOMI HIRAHARA

To make ends meet during the early years of my journalism career, I pulled an all-nighter once a week, translating articles from Japanese to English for a Los Angeles-based Japanese business weekly. The editor there was a kind soul, a portly Colonel Saunders-type character, complete with a full black beard and mustache. One day, after turning in my assignment, I asked him, "What do you think it takes to be a good journalist?"

I waited to hear his answer, expecting him to talk about fortitude, strength of one’s convictions, ability to see the truth. But instead he answered, "Good health."

What the heck? I wondered later, as I took my 23-year-old body back to my day job at a daily newspaper. Mr. Editor had spent one too many days in the composing room. Good health?

He had tried to explain it to me later: journalism was a rigorous field, requiring late nights, driving to odd and sometimes dangerous locales, and being "on" most of the time. To sustain a lifetime of this, you needed a strong body to withstand both the physical and mental battering of the job. And, of course, the pay would not always be good, I knew this firsthand, requiring moonlighting and other side jobs to pay the rent.

Many years later, I was reading an article about the master Japanese author Haruki Murakami’s devotion to exercise–either swimming or jogging–because writing required so much "concentration."

And I concur: there is a connection between body and mind. And it’s not even about our simple definition of "good health," as countless of excellent writers have struggled with physical limitations–Flannery O’Connor and her battle with lupus being one.

No, this is more about the intersection of body, mind, and soul–concepts that the west seem to maintain in different compartments. I guess in the Judeo-Christian tradition, there are not physical exercise practices comparable to tai-chi or yoga. But fasting and food restrictions are prevalent in the Bible, but those values have not been embraced by popular culture. (Can you imagine middle America saying, "No, I’m fasting today," as many times as "Supersize me"?)

I go to a gym that’s literally two blocks away from my house. And yes, I actually do walk over there. While I exercise, I don’t think about what I’m writing. Instead I must concentrate to my step aerobics instructor: "L-connector!" "Turn step!" "Airplane!" "Hopscotch!" "Mambo!" All this to rerecordings of very bad eighties and nineties music. (I know, not very meditative.)

But it’s wonderful. Here in this mirrored room, I’m not a writer or a wordsmith, but just another middle-aged Asian broad in a T-shirt and yoga pants, in a sea of twentysomething rail-thin females and a sprinkling of men.

It’s about keeping weight and cholesterol levels down, but it’s also about working the body so that it can support all the physical and emotional stamina of producing a book. To make yourself so dog tired and you can actually fall into a good REM sleep and have all those subversive and crazy dreams that may help you solve a creative problem you may having. It’s about vanity, too, because you’ll be photographed more times than you’d like, only later have those images placed on websites and in newspapers.

So that Japanese Colonel Saunders lookalike did have a pearl of wisdom worth sharing. The older I get, the more important it is to do a Murakami.

WEDNESDAY’S WORD: kokoro (SUMMER OF THE BIG BACHI, pages 127 and GASA-GASA GIRL, page 20)

How to define kokoro? A mixture of heart, mind, soul. In western culture, intellect and emotion are separate, but in Japanese culture it’s all together.

OOM-PAH-PAH, OOM-PAH-PAH

Deni Dietz

QUIBBLES & BITS

This week I have a BIT that’s actually a pun. You’ll understand why in a nanosecond or two.

You see, I had an accident with my front teeth (bit…get it?) which isn’t really important to anyone . . . except me. Fortunately, my dentist (Dr. Ian-who-wears-khaki-shorts-and-has-a-great butt) was able to give me an emergency appointment. He extracted 3 bottom teeth. My denturist began to construct a partial, and, okay, sometimes bad things happen and maybe I can use it in a book (the accident, not the extractions}.

At the same time, my community theatre – The Peninsula Players – had banded with the Victoria [B.C.] Music Society to stage a production of the musical Oliver.

I love musicals. I love to watch them. I love to be in them. I’ve done everything from South Pacific ("I’m only a cockeyed optimist") to Oklahoma ("I’m just a girl who cain’t say no") to Kiss Me Kate ("Every Tommmm, Dick, and Harry…every Tom, Harry and Dick…a-Dick, a-Dick…") to Jesus Christ Superstar, where we performed the Superstar number on roller skates.

So I called the person in charge of auditions and told her about my missing teeth. I said I didn’t want to go out in public (understatement) until my partial was completed. She said to try out anyway, that there’d only be the director and a pianist present. In truth, there was a stage manager and a few other assorted people, but that’s a quibble. The auditions lady said to bring a Broadway song to sing.

I could have sung something from Oliver, but I went for humour and sang "I Feel Pretty" from West Side Story. The director, pianist and assorted onlookers were still laughing when I finished my song.

And I lisped.

A few nights later, the auditions lady called and said I had made the cut and was being cast in the chorus. And that they’d be casting the smaller speaking parts as rehearsals went along.

When I picked myself up off the floor, I thanked her.

By the first rehearsal, I had my new front teeth, but I still lisp a little. If I were living in the 18th-Century, the lisp would be de rigueur. In fact, I have a lady in THE LANDLORD’S BLACK-EYED DAUGHTER (due out this August) who uses a lisp as an affectation, but I digress…

Oliver is a rather interesting musical. As just about everybody knows, it’s based on Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist, which is about an abused orphan who hooks up with a group of boys trained to be pickpockets by an elderly mentor. The movie won an Academy Award. The music, written by Lionel Bart is truly lovely, especially "Where is Love" and "Who Will Buy." Ron Moody, as Fagin, is incredible, and Jack Wild, as Dodger, just about steals (another pun?) the show.

But, in truth, the musical Oliver isn’t the Oliver Twist I remember from my youth. Heck, it’s almost as if someone had adapted Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities and staged a huge chorus number around the guillotine. Everybody would paraphrase the Beatles. "Yeh, you’ve got that something . . . I want to hold your head . . ."

Or maybe a composer and lyricist could create a musical that gives the word "ripper" another definition: Delightful. As in, I had a ripping good time. Jack the Ripper could sing a ballad: "Strumming her pain with my fingers . . . killing her softly . . ."

Back to Oliver: Fagin is noted for being one of the few Jewish characters of 19th century literature, let alone any of Dickens’ pieces. He is very much seen as an evil old man in Oliver Twist (that’s how I remember him), but throughout stage versions and film adaptations, he’s depicted as a devil-like character who influences innocent young children to commit crimes and play with the law, a creature who lurks between Oliver’s subconscious, thus blurring the line between reality and dreams for Oliver. That makes Fagin a terrifying yet humorous character who lacks the security of realism to provide both children and adults with a sense of comfort and safety.

Trivia: Dickens took Fagin’s name from a man he had known in his youth, while working in a boot-blacking factory. Ironically, the two workmates had been friends. Fagin’s character was based on the criminal Ikey Solomon; there was a recognized specialty in the 19th-century London underworld called a "kidsman" – an adult who recruited children and trained them as pickpockets, exchanging food and shelter for the stolen goods the children brought "home."

Trivia: Arguably, the definitive portrayal of Fagin, among the many stage and screen adaptations of the novel, is Alec Guinness’ performance in the 1948 film. Ron Moody’s portrayal in the musical is recognizably influenced by Guinness’ portrayal.

Trivia: Renowned comic book creator, Will Eisner, disturbed by the anti-Semitism in the typical depiction of the character, created a graphic novel in 2003 titled Fagin the Jew. In this book, the back stories of Fagin and Oliver are depicted from Fagin’s point of view.

Trivia: In later editions of the book printed during his lifetime, Charles Dickens excised as many irrelevant references to Fagin’s Judaism as he could in an effort to make amends for any hurt he had caused to his Jewish friends and readers.

And now…here are some other books-adapted-to-musicals:

LES MISERABLE [aka LES MIZ] – which was reasonably faithful to the novel by Victor Hugo.

WEST SIDE STORY – loosely (very loosely) based on Romeo and Juliet.

CANDIDE – I think Voltaire would have liked the adaptation with music by Leonard Bernstein, book by Lillian Hellman.

SOUTH PACIFIC – based on two short stories by James Michener, from Tales of the South Pacific, which won a Pulitzer in 1948.

GIGI – based on a novel by Colette

Can you think of any more?

Finally, my only disappointment with our local production of Oliver is that they aren’t casting a dog to play Bill Sykes’ dog.

My mostly-Norwegian Elkhound, Pandora, would have been perfect.

However, at age 13 she’s had 6 teeth extracted so she might be a tad shy about auditioning.

Even though she doesn’t lisp.

Over and Out,
Deni, singing "Food, glorious food…" (Why yes, I’m still on my diet.)

Have You No Shame?

by Pari Noskin Taichert

Over on Murder Must Advertise, there’s been a lively discussion about marketing etiquette. It began when author Sunny Frazier mentioned that she’d recently found herself selling her books — quite by accident — at a funeral.

It reminded me of my trip last month to Boulder, CO for the memorial service for my husband’s uncle. I didn’t know many of the people gathered to celebrate Frank Abbott’s life. At meals, when people asked me what I did for a living, I told them. When they wanted more info, I gave them a flier. (Yep, I always carry marketing materials with me.)

Later, I had this uncomfortable feeling — as if I’d done something uncouth — perhaps it was the juxtaposition of spiritual solemnity of eternity with the crass present-tense of self-promotion.

Who knows?

But the experience made me wonder about that wiggly line between effective marketing and obnoxiousness. What one person enjoys, another finds repugnant. It’s tough to gauge what reaction you’ll get.

I err on the side of intuition, of sussing out a person’s vibe and interest before mentioning my work.

Still, in the nearly three years since THE CLOVIS INCIDENT entered the world, I’ve sold books to my dentist, my kids’ doctors, teachers, occupational therapists, summer camp workers, PTA members, massage therapists, cashiers at the local Whole Foods and Smiths. I’ve sold my work while waiting to check out of a store. I’ve walked up to a guy in the mystery section at one of the Borders in town and told him, "Buy my book." And, he did. I’ve sold books at the Roswell UFO Festival, the Belen Harvey House, at campgrounds, coffee houses, on airplanes, in bars, luncheon meetings, at festivals, in a bathroom . . .

Sound desperate?

It’s not. It’s fun.

Damn fun.

I love the marketing aspect of my job. The only downside to it is that it takes me away from my writing.

Speaking of which . . .

Today, while you read this, I’ll probably be in transit to Nashville, TN for a presentation to the Sisters in Crime chapter there. I don’t know if five or fifty people will show up. For me, it’ll be a chance to plant seeds in new soil AND to see J.T. (and Mary Saums and J.B. Thompson)!

Even if I can’t check in much to read your comments, I’d still love to hear about the crazy places you’ve either bought a book — or sold one.

Come on. Make us all laugh.

**************************************************************

Don Strel, a wonderful photographer and renaissance man in Santa Fe, took this picture last year. I saw it for the first time in the program at the Tony Hillerman Writers Conference in Albuquerque last week and liked it so much I asked if I could use it.

I’ve never thought of myself as particularly vain but, with middle age, a lack of confidence has wormed its way into my self-image. From my perspective, pix of me often emphasize my double chin, making it look like a terraced rice paddy. And, I seem kind of, well, dumpy and ill-defined, a melted beeswax candle.

Don managed to capture how I see myself.

cheers,
Pari

A Few Quick Questions

Jeffrey Cohen

When July 1, 2006 rolled around, I had officially (and even privately) been a freelance writer for exactly 21 years, which is a mind-blowing number, considering that I’d originally intended to stay off a company payroll for six months or a year, waiting for “the next job” to come along.

I’m not waiting anymore. I gave up waiting sometime in the late 1980s. They’ll have to pry me away from this job with a crowbar. Put on a shirt and tie every day and go work in some office for a specified number of hours, writing on the topics that are given to me, rather than the ones I pursue because I find them interesting? No, thanks–luckily, my wife has a steady job, so I can be picky.

Of all the assignments I’ve had in this job, though, there is one–other than writing mystery novels, which I don’t consider an assignment, since I chose it for myself–that has been the most satisfying and the most fun for me. I was very sorry to give it up when the time came.

That was as the designated interviewer for a monthly publication called Hollywood Scriptwriter, which at the time was owned and edited by my pal Lou Grantt, who now is a novelist in her own write. Lou is an amazing person and no, she is not really Ed Asner. She had the name first.

With some background as a screenwriter (admittedly, an unproduced one), I was thrilled to talk to some of my idols through relatively long, hopefully in-depth telephone interviews. I don’t live in Los Angeles–in fact, I’m as far away as you can get and still be on the same continent–and strikingly, many of the Hollywood scriptwriters I interviewed did. Go figure.

It was always a challenge to get the interview; some of the subjects weren’t familiar with the publication. But with a little hard-headed determination on my part and some serendipitous timing in other cases (if the subject had a project about to be released, it would be easier to get an interview arranged), I talked to almost all the people I’d hoped to.

And they were, without exception, very gracious. From true legends in the field (Budd Schulberg, who wrote the novel What Makes Sammy Run?) to those better known as performers (Carrie Fisher, who has become a novelist, playwright and script doctor of choice), no one objected to the length of the interview, no one ever refused to answer a question, and not one hung up on me.

It was a blast. Among the highlights:

* William Goldman was the first screenwriter I interviewed, and a personal hero of mine. Besides being a brilliant screenwriter (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid), he is also a brilliant novelist and has adapted many of his books (Magic, The Princess Bride, Marathon Man) into films. He spent over an hour with me on the phone, then apologized (!) because he had to go and visit with a grandchild, and suggested we pick the interview up the next day, which we did for another 45 minutes or so. A true gentleman, and a nice man, as well.

* It took a while to schedule Carrie Fisher’s interview, through no fault on anybody’s part. When we finally began, we talked for about 10 minutes, then she responded to someone on her end of the conversation and asked if she could call me back: “My mother’s asking me about something.” She called back, as promised, and we finished the interview, marking the only time someone has cut me off to talk to Debbie Reynolds.

* Talking to Garry Marshall is exactly what you’d expect it to be. His unique inflection and perfect timing can make a simple sentence (“I’m supposed to go to lunch.”) a comic gem. He talked about settings, how comedy is the last thing he worries about, and why Fonzie couldn’t wear a sweater. It was an entertaining, terrific time, and I’m glad I have it on tape.

* Spike Lee, at roughly my height (which isn’t much) is an intimidating presence. One of the few face-to-face interviews I did for the magazine–he works in New York City, a 45-minute train ride from my home), Lee was open and honest, happy to talk about previous projects and the one he was beginning (with Schulberg, of all people), and ate breakfast while we spoke. He also sent a cassette of his latest–at the time–film, which I watched and promptly lost. It was the interview for which I was most nervous, and it worked out fine, mostly because of Lee.

* Mike Medavoy is a producer and former studio executive with great taste and a strong sense of story. He had a memoir about to be published, and we talked extensively about how he chooses projects. But he still didn’t buy any of my scripts. That “great taste” thing gets in the way sometimes.

* Carl Reiner, at 80, was working on the script for a Dick Van Dyke Show reunion special (“I’m on page 13 right now!”) that eventually aired on Nick at Nite, when we talked. The man knows all there is to know about comedy, about making a story work, and about making characters three-dimensional. And yet, he’s still not an arrogant swine. Sorta makes you lose faith in the Hollywood system.

* Stephen Bochco pretty much reinvented television when he co-created Hill Street Blues, and when he was talking about the network system and how he’s been typecast as the “cop guy,” and I asked if he wished he could break free with a goofy sitcom about twin sisters and a talking hamster. Bochco didn’t miss a beat, and said, “you son of a bitch; you stole my idea.” Took a while for the laughter to die down and the interview to continue from there.

Unfortunately, after a while, Lou sold the magazine, and while the new owner would have let me continue the interviews, it was clearly time to move on (for one thing, I was taking a part-time teaching job that was going to monopolize some of my time). But I do miss it every once in a while, and I’m sorry about some of the interviews I tried to get but couldn’t (Mel Brooks, Gene Wilder, Cameron Crowe, Roger Corman).

And I do confess, every once in a while I’ll take out a cassette and listen to it. I’m partial, but I think they were pretty good interviews. And most of that wasn’t my doing at all.

CLP… and I Had A Dream

JT Ellison

Jan Burke, award-winning novelist extraordinaire and creator of the Crime
Lab Project, very kindly asked Killer Year to blog this week in her absence,
and we’ve been giving it our all. Today, it’s my turn. Please come over to CLP and
read my brief interview with Detective David Achord, Metro Nashville Homicide.
I asked him a few questions about the lack of private labs in Nashville.

Detective Achord will be here at Murderati one day in the
near future, answering your questions in the comments section. So look for an
upcoming blog warning.

—————————————————————-

I had a dream this week that I’ve been trying to interpret.

Hubby and I went to a conference (it seemed like Phoenix,
possibly a ThrillerFest, so perhaps I’ve developed precognition and this
happens in the future). When we arrived and were checking in, I realized that
I’d left a few things at home.

1. Business Cards

2. Killer Year postcards (maybe we aren’t in the future
after all)

3. My registration information

I’m panicking in a slight, “Oh damn, how stupid am I” kind
of way. Then I realize that we’ve left the cat home alone with no babysitter
arranged, I can’t figure out if it’s Wednesday and the conference starts on
Thursday or it’s Thursday morning, so I can’t estimate if she’ll survive.

And then comes the zinger. I don’t have my cell phone, which
has all the numbers for all the people who can bail me out of my mess.

Now, I manage to get in touch with the company that prints
my business cards and the KY postcards, and they agree to make new ones for me
pronto and can have them to the hotel by Friday. Unfortunately, I need to order
thousands to get the overnight shipping cost justified.

Just as I get in touch with the woman that usually takes
care of the cat when we vamoose, my alarm went off. Thank God!

This dream is utterly fascinating to me because I’m a bit
type A, with a slight case of OCD (Hubby can quit laughing now – I know he
stows the peanut butter on the wrong shelf just to freak me out.) The concept
of me arriving for a conference without my happy little packages of notes and
cards, without handling the arrangements for my beloved munchkin, is absurd.

So why did I have this dream?

I think, and I’m speculating, that my world is slightly out
of my control. I’m feeling a bit selfish because my edits came on Saturday and
I dropped everything to dive in, which means I’ve been in la-la-land and have
been a bit spacey with hubby – not cranky so much as elegantly vacant.

Things are starting to hum with the book, and I’m experiencing
a lot of stuff for the first time.

I’m going to chalk this one up to newbie jitters, and hope I
don’t have any more.

(P.S. The edits are officially submitted. What a great feeling!)

Wine of the Week — Let’s celebrate with a fine selection — Baroli Barolo. Yummmmmm……

The Other Side of Acceptance

I sold my 140th short story the other week. Bloody good job, me. I’m a writing machine and superhero wrapped up in one. Booyah!

But—and there had to be one, didn’t there—that 140th sale is only the tip of my literary iceberg. The 140 is what everybody sees. What is hidden below the surface are the 600 hundred or so rejections that those sales are built upon. Those 600 rejects have come from magazine editors, agents and publishers. While they’ve said no, others have said yes and usually to the things previously passed over. My trunk story drawer is pretty empty as things go.

So when rejection comes knocking on my door, it’s spitballs off my armor plating. After 600 hits, I don’t even notice anymore. Right?

I wish.

Rejection hurts. It’s depressing at times and demoralizing at others. I haven’t gotten used to it. I view every letter or email notification with a mix of dread and hope. I’m hoping for good news when I know chances are that it isn’t. I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get to me. There are some markets where I’d literally kill someone to get in their pages, so a rejection from them hits as hard as a kick in the balls.

But rejection doesn’t deter me—and it shouldn’t deter any other writer either. Rejection is part of the trade, no different than paper supplies, ink cartridges, return mailers and royalty checks. Rejection is to be accepted and learned from.

Something can be learnt from rejections, even the form letters. What I sent them could be entirely inappropriate. I can moan all I like, but the editor of Romantic Times isn’t going to buy my story about identical twin serial killers. However, Serial Killers Monthly might. So I check my market knowledge regularly to ensure I know what the editors are after. Also, I take note of comments. If an editor/agent/publisher has gone to the trouble of writing a personal note, I’ll consider it. I might not take their advice. Ask ten people about a story they read and you’ll get ten different answers. But I’ll reread my piece to see if the editor’s comments have some validity. If they do, I’ll make changes. If they don’t, I won’t. Editors, like writers, aren’t infallible. An editor’s point of view might be valid, but it doesn’t mean another editor won’t have a different view. (Unless you’re editor reading this. Then, of course, you are God and I don’t dare to stare into your light. You are like Julie. You are always right).

The rejections that hurt most take a little time to digest. These tend to result in a slammed door, manuscripts thrown around the room and the odd expletive tossed about like confetti. I tell the dog and cats that these people don’t deserve one of my stories. I wouldn’t sully my name by being associated with these guttersnipes. As you can see, it’s a hard knock, but like an on-field injury, I walk it off. When Julie has peeled me from the ceiling, I scoop up my now muddled manuscript, complete with rejection, and place it in my in tray. When I’m in a better frame of mind (usually, a couple of weeks later) I’ll revisit what the rejection said. Can I learn anything from it? Can I make improvements? Do I know anyone who lives close to this editor who wouldn’t mind roughing them up for me?

So rejection hurts, but it’s a necessary evil. Rejection makes me stronger, faster, better. Er, hold on a second, I just turned into the Six Million Dollar Man. Never mind. You get the gist.

Simon Wood

PS: No editors were harmed in the writing of this article—well, not the ones who accepted my work. Hint. Hint.

PPS: The picture is of me and my new editor, Chase.

L.A. MIX PROFILE: Professor William Edwards

NAOMI HIRAHARA

Out of the various individuals my husband has met at different mystery events, Professor William Edwards is among his favorites.

Professor Edwards doesn’t live in Southern California; he resides in beautiful Marin County, just north of San Francisco, where he is the head of the Sociology Department at the University of San Francisco, a private Jesuit college. I first met Bill in another country, Canada, where he approached me in the vacuous signing room of Bouchercon Toronto and said, "I sold forty of your books." Needless to say, Bill became my new best friend.

Bill had sold these books because he had assigned SUMMER OF THE BIG BACHI to his Sociology class that year, along with Tess Gerritsen’s HARVEST and Marcos M. Villatoro’s HOME KILLINGS. He’s used numerous other mysteries in his Introduction to Sociology class.

The academic market is an untapped source of readers for mysteries. Not only will it help spur an author’s back list sales, but it will introduce mysteries to younger readers. Reaching this market is not an easy one, but something certain authors should explore. Can you envision creating a curriculum with mystery books? In Southern California, SUMMER OF THE BIG BACHI has been used at Pasadena City College and an Asian American literature class in University of California at San Diego. The only way BIG BACHI has ended up on some twentysomethings’ favorite books on myspace, I imagine, is because they were introduced to it in one of these classes.

As Professor Edwards is at the forefront of this movement to integrate mysteries into academia, I thought that it would be interesting to get to know him better and find out his students’ reactions to mysteries.

When did you start reading mysteries? What are some early favorites?

I don’t recall the earliest years in which I started reading mysteries. As a high school student interested in science I read sci-fi. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells were my favorites. In mysteries I was fascinated by Edgar Allan Poe. There was a dark side to his imagination that intrigued me. He had lived in my hometown of Richmond, Virginia, and I think that added to his appeal. It was not until the nineties that I became seriously interested in crime fiction. Having gone to grad school in Seattle I came across the early novels of Ridley Pearson set in that area and got hooked. Since I was a big jazz fan, I liked Lou Boldt. Donald Westlake was perhaps the next author I discovered. From then, I was in for the long haul.

Can you tell us a little of your academic background? When did you start working at University of San Francisco?

I began my undergraduate education at Virginia Union University in Richmond, where I majored in chemistry. When it became necessary for me to work full time I couldn’t make the labs and had to change majors. That’s when I switched to Sociology. Science was fun, but people were more interesting. For graduate studies I went to the University of Washington and completed my master’s degree in urban planning. After working for the Department of Housing and Urban Development in San Francisco and the San Francisco Planning Department I went to UC Berkeley and earned my Ph.D in Sociology.

Currently I am teaching at the University of San Francisco where I began in 1988 after having taught at UC Santa Barbara and the College of Marin.

When did you start to offer sociology classes that featured mysteries? How did you conceive of this concept? What can mysteries teach that textbooks cannot?

I had read Donald Westlake’s book, THE AX and was absolutely captivated by the story line. As a sociologist the book portrayed several dimensions of downward mobility. At the time, issues of downsizing, restructuring, and outsourcing were making national headlines. I was teaching the introductory course in Sociology and thought this book would be a great way for students to understand the whole phenomenon of mobility, both upward and downward, minus the murders. Plus, the topic was timely. In the meantime it occurred to me that other novels might be useful as teaching tools. So, along with Westlake I added Tony Hillerman, Barbara Neely, and S.J Rozan. The idea was to use a cross section of novelists focusing on different ethnic groups as protagonist or subject. Since crime fiction represented inherent conflict situations, I thought they would be a great vehicle to get students to understand what I called, "Sociology in action." In addition, I thought crime fiction would get their attention, pique their imagination, and encourage their reading.

The initial experiment of crime fiction in the classroom met with success. Students were instructed to read the novels from a sociological perspective. Of course they were cautioned that the works were fiction, but that the action and the characters existed in sociological contexts. And, these contexts could be identified with the use of sociological concepts. Over time I expanded the novels to include international writers and settings. International settings get students to think about worlds outside their own and to understand how social worlds are different. What is taken for the norm in our society may be quite different in another context. Since my university require nursing students to take Introduction to Sociology I always include a medical thriller on my reading list.

Crime fiction can only be instructive if students have had the necessary background; that is, learning a range of sociological concepts and theories that explain social interaction. Once they have been introduced to these ideas, the novels provide a context for them to see these ideas being played out in narrative fashion. Crime fiction is especially useful in getting students to see life outside the routine. Unlike the text, the novels mitigate the usual refrain of being "boring."

How has the reading of mysteries been received by your students? Can you give us some concrete examples?

One of the unintended consequences of using crime fiction has been that students have associated my Intro class with the novels and not the subject of Sociology. I’m often asked when I will next teach the class with the novels. It is not uncommon for students to ask me for additional books by a particular author. A few years ago I had used Tess Gerritsen’s book, HARVEST. The nursing students were so thrilled (pun intended) with the book that they recommended my class to their colleagues based upon the book. Similarly, a group of students enjoyed Gerritsen so much they formed a small reading group outside of class. When the school news magazine carried a story about my class I received an inquiry from an area alumni chapter requesting recommendations of crime fiction for their book club. I’ve heard rumors from the campus bookstore that students not enrolled in my class are buying copies of assigned novels resulting in the need to order additional copies.

Do you think that there will be more academicians who will incorporate mysteries in their classes? Why or why not?

In 2003 I conducted a teaching workshop for the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association. Several attendees were very interested in the use of crime fiction in their classes. I subsequently received an inquiry from a colleague in Ontario regarding the use of the novels. In 2004 I organized a panel for the Bouchercon Mystery Conference and several writers were very interested in the idea of crime fiction in the classroom. All four panel members used crime fiction in their university classes. This year I attended the Left Coast Conference in Bristol, England and was engaged in conversation with UK writers who said they couldn’t imagine professors outside literature using crime fiction as a teaching tool.

The idea of capturing students’ attention is a major selling point for using crime fiction. Certainly at the college level students are not generally assigned crime fiction in their classes. Many of my colleagues tell me they think of crime fiction as good entertainment but not as a learning tool. I would concur that not all crime novels are a good fit for the classroom. Care has to be taken in selecting them and most importantly, they should be a supplement and not the main focus of the course (assuming the course is not one in literature). As I have indicated, the novels are a teaching tool. It is a way to get students to learn something and the essential question is what do you want them to learn from reading this genre.

I teach at a Jesuit university and social justice is a mainstay of its mission. Crime fiction is an excellent way to engage students in issues surrounding social justice. Many of the best novels are topical and students can learn about important social issues through reading crime fiction.

Finally, one of the best reasons for using crime fiction in the classroom is that they are darn good fun.

***

Thank you, Professor Edwards! If you want to meet the esteemed professor, chances are you can find him at a book event at M Is For Mystery in San Mateo if he’s not in class or grading papers. He may be stopping in later today, so please leave comments and questions.

And back to my husband, why is he so enamored with Professor Edwards? Bill is also the academic advisor to the college basketball team. Bill was able to make arrangements for us to visit the Bill Russell Room, a simple yet glorious room full of memorabilia connected with not only Bill Russell and other USF greats like Casey Jones.

Mystery and basketball–what a combination!

WEDNESDAY’S WORD: sensei (SUMMER OF THE BIG BACHI, page 258)

Actually sensei is officially an American word, as it’s in Webster’s dictionary, as is Issei (first-generation Japanese American) and Nisei (second-generation Japanese American). Anyone who’s taken a Japan-based martial art knows what sensei means, right? Teacher.

SISTERS IN HOLLYWOOD: My, what a great time we all had at the Sisters in Crime Goes to Hollywood Conference. SinC President Rochelle Krich, Mae Woods, Lisa Seidman and SinC/LA chapter leadership are to be commended. I understand it was Lisa who had connections within the Writers Guild of America and all those movie-related agents, producers, and writers (fantastic panels). My main goal was to hang out with out-of-towners and out-of-staters, and that goal was definitely realized. I enjoyed meeting for the first time Patricia Sprinkle, Joyce Yarrow, Mark Zubro, Ron Lovell, and Keith Raffel. Many of these folks will be at Left Coast Crime Seattle, so I look forward in getting to know them even better!

Sujata Massey and I had a wonderful time at the Pacific Asia Museum (I think that Sujata wanted to move into the museum building, a former residence built in the 1920s by a successful female stenographer and curio shop owner, as well as take over a couple of hand-painted Tibetan chests). When we left the darkened building at night, we both felt like we were Rei Shimura snooping around old artifacts. And the conference itself was incredibly informative, even for a native Angeleno like me. In a nutshell, here are three things that I learned:

1) MONEY (most important, course). A typical option for a movie is $5,000 with perhaps a $50,000 payout at the end if the movie is produced. So, in other words, you might be able to afford a nice week-long trip (for one) to Tuscany with your option monies, but you won’t be able to afford a house in Tuscany.

2) LINGO. "Attachments" mean high-profile actors, writers and directors attached to a project. "MOW" is movie-of-the week, which networks obviously aren’t not making as many as before. "Limited series" refers to a six-part series, which USA Network is currently producing. USA is also apparently looking for character-driven series versus police procedurals like CSI, Law & Order, etc. Attention, ITW members–Dreamworks mentioned that they were looking specifically for thrillers, including erotic thrillers (M.J. Rose immediately came to mind).

3) GETTING YOUR FOOT IN THE DOOR. The Hollywood agents talked about obtaining a story when it was in manuscript or galley form. In this competitive environment, all kinds of "attachments" are necessary. There was talk about treatments ranging from 75-85 pages, but I was getting lost at this point. The gist of the matter is that it is very, very hard to get a movie or television program made. And even harder to make any money at it.

I think I’ll stick to books for now. And, of course, my mini-script, which is shaping up nicely. I am using voice-over, by the way, but judiciously. We are also hoping to shoot here.

YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH YOU CAN DO UNTIL YOU STAND UP AND TRY

Deni Dietz

QUIBBLES & BITS

In the States it’s Election Day, but I bet y’all knew that 🙂

It’s time to forget the nasty j’accuse TV ads, the CNN polls, the radio talk shows, the "experts" telling you who is going to win [or lose] — as if you couldn’t make up your own minds, express your own opinions, vote with your own hearts.

In the USA, voting is both a right and a privilege. [In Australia there’s a fairly hefty fine if you don’t show up at your polling place; you don’t have to vote, just sign in!]

When my first husband and I voted, we’d cancel each other out. So what? We expressed our opinions, we made our voices heard, and that’s what counts.

When I waited tables, I’d wear my little I VOTED sticker with pride—every single year—and the first thing I did when I moved to Canada was make damn certain I was on the [Colorado Springs] mailing list for absentee ballots. This year, like all other years, my absentee ballot arrived in plenty of time. I spent hours on-line, reading about the candidates and issues. Then I filled out my ballot and mailed it in…

Because I can’t bitch about government if I don’t make my voice heard, even if it’s a whisper in a sea of shouts.

So if you haven’t voted yet, please stop reading this blog! Collect your wallets and purses and your strollers and little kids, if you have ’em, and head for your polling place.

I’ll be happy to send you a virtual I VOTED sticker.

Here are two of my favorite novels with a political theme:

*THE MAN by Irving Wallace

*THE TRAYNOR LEGACY by David Stinson

And my favorite movies with a political theme:

1] THE CANDIDATE
Trivia: Groucho Marx has an uncredited walk-on cameo in what would be his last screen appearance. And a prop campaign button from this film is on display at the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History in Washington, along with several authentic campaign buttons.

2] A FACE IN THE CROWD
One of my all-time favorite films, I love it when Lonesome Rhodes, who doesn’t know he’s being heard by millions of TV viewers, says: "Rednecks, crackers, hillbillies, hausfraus, shut-ins, pea-pickers—everybody that’s got to jump when somebody else blows the whistle. They don’t know it yet, but they’re all gonna be ‘Fighters for Fuller’. They’re mine! I own ’em! They think like I do. Only they’re even more stupid than I am, so I gotta think for ’em. Marcia, you just wait and see. I’m gonna be the power behind the president – and you’ll be the power behind me!"

3] DAVE
Dave says: "If you’ve ever seen the look on somebody’s face the day they finally get a job, I’ve had some experience with this, they look like they could fly. And its not about the paycheck, it’s about respect, it’s about looking in the mirror and knowing that you’ve done something valuable with your day. And if one person could start to feel this way, and then another person, and then another person, soon all these other problems may not seem so impossible. You don’t really know how much you can do until you stand up and decide to try."

That last sentence is printed in large block letters and tacked on my bulletin board.

Other favorite political movies:
*ALL THE PRESIDENT’S MEN
*WAG THE DOG
*DR. STRANGELOVE
*CITIZEN KANE
*THE MOUSE THAT ROARED
and
*THE BEST MAN

What are some of your favorite political novels and movies?

Over and Out and please, please vote,
Deni