ON THE BUBBLE WITH SARAH WEINMAN

Wanna know what’s going on in BookBizVille? Well, there’s only one place for one-stop snooping and that is at Sarah Weinman’s CONFESSIONS OF AN IDIOSYNCRATIC MIND. Razor sharp observations, always the first with the inside scoop, delectible books featured on ‘Pick of the Week’, an international readership comprising of some of the biggest names in the biz – and one of the most widely read blogs on the net. I mean, hell, even The Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, and USA Today (just to mention a few), have talked about CONFESSIONS!

Oh, and then – between commercials and the weather report – Sarah contributes to Galleycat (a terrific publishing news blog), does a crime fiction column for the Baltimore Sun, and is the fiction editor for SHOTS. In her spare time (?), Sarah writes short fiction-which has appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, and published in Dublin Noir, Baltimore Noir and Damn Near Dead. I won’t list all the prestigious newspapers her articles and reviews have appeared in – well, maybe just a few – how’s Newsday? Or, the Globe and Mail for starters? We won’t even get into the fact that Sarah has an M.S. in Forensic Science from John Jay College of Criminal Justice. I mean, enough with the envy, okay? It’s bad enough to feel so under-accomplished, did we need to know that too?

I was yakking with Sarah the other day, and this is what we talked about:

EE: My favorite new spy told me you’re working on a blockbuster tell-all about a famous literary giant who is – in reality – Carmen Electra. When can we expect to see this in the bookstores?

SW: Alas, your spy had a couple of things mixed up – that blockbuster tell-all will reveal that…Kaavya Viswanathan is really James Frey. Because A MILLION LITTLE OPALS just didn’t work at the ed board meeting, so it had to be scrapped. Even though it would have been much pithier.

Shucks. Guess that means there won’t be a guest spot on Ophra then, huh? Darn.

EE: Rumor has it that you are really one half of a set of twins. I mean, Sarah, there must be something to this – how else can you manage to do reviews, articles, write short stories and daily stay on top of every bit of news about the book biz?

SW: Not having a day job makes things much, much easier. But for this, I have to misquote Lawrence Block when he was asked how could he be so prolific: he just wanted to keep people from finding out how lazy he was. Terror borne out of procrastination works real wonders, let me tell you!

Ahem. Not that I’m prolific, but the terror thing? I can relate to that. But, seriously – I play Solitaire all the time because I like it. I mean, I don’t really look at it as procrastination. What? Really, I don’t. I’m serious here. Stop laughing, okay?

EE: Listen, Sarah – we have to get something cleared up here. The fact that you completed your M.S. in Forensic Science greatly worries your legion of fans. You’re not thinking of donning a white coat and leaving all of us news starved writers afloat, are you?

SW: Oh God no, though I do sometimes look at the job postings at the American Academy of Forensic Science and realize that no, I don’t want to leave New York. More to the point, the degree was amazing, I learned immeasurable things – but labwork and I just weren’t meant to be friends. I still think I’ll find different ways to make use of it, even if it’s just to pen crime novels in a forensic setting.

Whew. Good news for us, but maybe not for Patricia Cornwell or Kathy Reichs. Not to worry, Sarah – mums the word. I haven’t talked to Cornwell or Reichs in days. Well, Cornwell and I actually aren’t buds anymore. I mean, she’s just gotten so stale, you know? I told her that, and she…well, never mind.

EE: Okay, let’s talk about panels. As a much sought after panelist at all the major cons, tell us who would make up your ideal panel?

SW: Anyone who has funny stories to share and an ability to keep the panel moving without taking it over completely. Because if I’m moderating a panel, it’s their show, not mine, so I want to make sure they put on the best possible one.

No names, I see. Okay, very diplomatic – very discreet – but no fun! Guess we’ll have to fill in the blanks for ourselves.

EE: Word around Manhattan is that you turned down a dinner date with Mel Brooks to discuss the intricacies of short story writing. This can’t be true, can it?

SW: He wanted to go to Elaine’s. I wanted to go to Michael’s. We had to agree to disagree, unfortunately.

Well, hell, I don’t blame you! Too bad Mel didn’t realize that Michael’s was THE place for the literati. But then, what do movie people know? Listen, chickie – you’re better off without him.

EE: Whispers are rampant that a certain hunky new writer is sending you roses and chocolates so can become a Cabana Boy. What say you about that?

SW: Roses, yes. Chocolates, no. I can be bribed, people, so please, make it chocolate, preferably 70% dark and up.

Hey, guys – are you listening out there? The lady wants CHOCOLATES! And none of that Godiva stuff, okay? Hint: zChocolate.com is the place to go. Sarah would love that nifty mahogany box filled with goodies made by Pascal Caffet (Forbes said he was the best in the world!) and it’s a bargain at $171.40. I mean, what’s a few bucks to be immortalized as a Cabana Boy?

EE: Uh, besides the bribe, er, I mean the chocolates – just what does it REALLY take to be a Cabana Boy? And further and further more – a Cabana Girl? (hint, hint)

SW: That secret is locked in the same safe that contains the exact GPS location of the Bermuda Triangle and the recipe for No 1. Pimms. And you need Top Secret Clearance, at best,to get it.

I can handle that. But, I must say – I prefer adding champagne instead of lemonade. I mean, it’s so much better with the gin and aromatics. Don’t you agree?

EE: Here’s an easy one, Sarah – the Walter Mitty dream thing. What’s yours?

SW: To be able to make a living for the rest of my life doing a wide variety of writing-related tasks. That’s the practical version. The not-so-practical version is to make my operatic debut at the Met and my jazz debut at the Village Vanguard, but then practicalities take over and remind me that I tried that song-and-dance years ago and it didn’t work.

Well, hell, Sarah – not that we (your legion of fans) don’t want you to stop writing, or keeping us up to date on the book biz, but really – your Un Bel Di rivaled that of Callas, and Diana Kral’s version of East of The Sun can’t hold a candle to yours.

EE: You’r having six guests to dinner. Who would they be,and what would you serve? Or, since most of my previous guests refuse to cook – which restaurant would you take them to?

SW: I do love to cook, but I get stressed out if I have to deal with cooking for more than one person-me. For guests, I’d limit it to writerly types: Shel Silverstein, Angela Carter, Terry Teachout, Sholom Alichem, Janine Boissard, and Dave White because he wouldn’t know who any of these people are.

Uh, Dave? It’s okay – I’ve only heard of two of them myself.

EE: Crimeville is all abuzz about that new debut writer who’s sending you hate mail because you haven’t selected his/her book as a ‘Pick of the Week’ over at Confessions – even after you praised the work. How are you handling this, Sarah? Actually, what we REALLY want to know – is who the hell is he/her?

SW: What can I say? Bloggers have feelings too. We’re not the automatons that the mainstream media makes us out to be, dammit!

Of course you have feelings! Ignore those media types. Why, you’re a fun gal -friendly, sweet, charming, full of the devil and you love No 1. Pims! But, uh, Sarah? That wasn’t what I asked you, but hey – if you don’t want to go public, that’s cool. I’ll call you later,okay? If I pick the right name, just tap on the phone with a pen, or something.

EE: Okay, Sarah – here’s a real hard one; You’re on a book tour – who would be your ideal tour mate?

SW: Jennifer Jordan, for the banter, the camaraderie and the incredible tangents. If only she’d get her damn book done, too…

I love Jennifer! Oh, to be a fly on the wall around you two! Hey, I’ve got an idea…how about if we…

EE: Last, but most pressing question: When the hell do you find time to sleep?

SW: Most of the time I get about 8 hours a night. It goes back to that procrastination/terror cycle. I’m telling you, this really works!

Not for me. I just pick up a copy of …….’s book, and I’m out like a light. I keep a copy next to my bed. It works every time.

Many thanks, Sarah – for playing On The Bubble with us – and for the absolutely terrific job you consistantly do to keep us all in the loop. A round of applause, if you please – for Sarah Weinman!

The Power of Critique Groups

JT Ellison

Forgive me while I wax poetic. I have an amazing critique group. We even have a name – The Bodacious Music City Wordsmiths. BMW’s for short. This compilation of writers range from New York published authors to independently published authors to short story authors to authors whose first books aren’t out yet to unpublished authors. There’s one key ingredient that brings us together. We all love to write, and that respect carries over into our WIPs (works in progress).

Critique groups catch a lot of flak. Let me tell you, finding a good one takes time and effort, but a good critique group is worth its weight in gold.

When I was invited to join the BMW’s, I was thrilled and scared. I’d just come out of a different critique group, one that had really cooled my jets on having a group of people review my work. And I’d never even given them my work to critique.

We had a tyrannical leader who was really harsh, and not shy in his views. If things didn’t match what he thought they should, he harangued and brow beat the issue. He wasn’t critiquing, he was being critical. There’s a HUGE difference. Feelings got hurt, people lost interest, and we were over before we even began. It wasn’t the greatest experience, and I was a little leery about joining another. But I knew that I needed some outside input on my work, so I agreed to come to a meeting.

I was hooked from moment one.

All critique groups are set up in different ways, but the gist is you bring your pages, read them aloud and the group, obviously, critiques your work. In the BMW’s we bring 10 pages. Each person reads their work, then it’s a free-for-all. Likes, dislikes, comma splices, misused words, too much sex, too little sex, too many F-Bombs, your character is doing something unbelievable, your setting doesn’t work. Anything and everything is fair game. Sounds rough, doesn’t it?

The reason it works is that we all genuinely care about helping each other become better writers. Egos are checked at the door. Personal feelings are checked at the door. We’re all friends and there’s no need to worry that we’re going to hurt someone’s feelings because we find ways to work together for solutions to problems. That’s the key ingredient to any good group. Feel free to point out the glaring errors, just have a suggestion for how to make it better.

For me, the group has brought me out of my shell. When I first started with them, I could barely read my work aloud. It was mortifying. But a great lesson for the future. And now I look forward to my twice monthly meetings. They keep me focused on my work. I know that I’m required to show up with ten new pages every two weeks, and let me tell you, that keeps your nose to the grindstone.

I’ve asked my fellow BMW’s a question. What’s the most important thing you get out of the BWs and critique groups in general. Here’s some of the answers:

· Alternate perspective. Like most people, I haven’t always written what I think. The group sees what’s on paper, not what I was thinking.

· Besides heads-up help, shared knowledge.

For me, I find that I get such a sense of camaraderie from my group. Knowing I’m not the only one having issues and eureka moments really helps me engage. Whether you’re a new writer or an old hat, a critique group can help your writing improve.

Have any critique group suggestions/stories to share? Please post them in our comment section!!!

Wine of the Week – A very fine wine — Robert Mondavi Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

Tomorrow’s ON THE BUBBLE will have ANOTHER phenomenal guest. Last week’s interview was Tess Gerritsen. Who will Elaine pull out of her hat tomorrow? Stay tuned to see…

Ta-Pocketa-Pocketa-Pocketa

My wife, Julie, kicked me under the table at a restaurant the other day.

“You’re doing it again,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re watching something going on. You think you’re subtle, but you’re so obvious.”

She’d caught me red-handed. Something had caught my eye in the restaurant. But I was listening to her—honest! Her mother was wrestling tigers in Sumatra. Well, I think that’s what she said.

I’m always people watching and situation observing. Regardless of the facts of the matter, there could be a story in it. Truth always makes great fiction. If I can think it, I swear someone else has already done it.

It doesn’t have to be a big thing that catches my eye. A couple breaking up or falling in love can be just as fascinating as cops chasing a subject down the middle of a crowded street. I can always learn from how people handle themselves in real situations. A Hollywood bar brawl looks nothing like two drunks really trying to duke it out on a street corner.

But I have to admit my passion is for the strange. I love coming across weird chunks of real life to ignite my imagination. The other month, I was driving to Fresno to give a speech to the Central Valley chapter of Sisters in Crime. I was hurtling along I-5 and I suddenly had to swerve out of the way to avoid an army duffel in the middle of the freeway. I considered stopping, but with the onslaught of traffic behind me, I was going to get smooshed and what the hell was I going to do with the bag if I did pick it up?

Cha-ching!

It hit me. What if I stopped to pick up the bag? What would I find? Clothes? How about a bunch of cash? Would I keep it? Bloody right, I would. Finders keepers. What if the owners of the moneybag saw me take the bag, came after me, and we mixed it up?

Then again, what if it was body parts in the bag instead? I don’t think I’d keep the bag then, but my fingerprints would be everywhere and the cops would suspect me of chopping up the body. I’d be an innocent man, but the cops wouldn’t believe me and then I’d have to go on the run to clear my name.

Maybe I decided to leave the bag alone because of the potential of above and I drove on by. What if the effect of this was that a school bus struck the bag, flipped the median and started a chain-reaction of carnage leading to a fatal pile up? How would I feel then? Especially when the parents of the school children banded together to hunt me down as part of some tragic revenge story.

All these things occurred to me within 3 seconds of passing the duffel, so that gives you a feel for how my mind works and why I should be confined to a state facility.

The point of all this is that the incidences that lead to ideas are out there. I must admit I have a habit of stumbling on to the strange, but I can’t be everywhere at once. This is a reason I comb the newspapers for stories. Not the headline stuff, but the little stories that warrant only a few column inches. These back-stories and page fillers are great resources. People do the oddest things for the oddest motives and that’s what I’m looking for. Crimes stories usually boil down to a very basic and fundamental reason and that what I’m always searching for—a passion for crime.

There’s only so much a writer can conjure from thin air, but there’s a whole big bunch of stuff out there happening all the time. I might not use it word for word, but reality makes a great foundation for fiction.

So sorry, Julie, I’m going to keep people watching.

Here’s looking at you,
Simon

PS: And don’t even consider using these story ideas. I thought of them and if you use them, I’ll hunt you down like a dog. That’s intellectual property justice. Plain and simple. Don’t make me hurt you.

Why Publishing Is So Japanese

NAOMI HIRAHARA

While I lived in Japan for a year after graduating from college, I did something that offended my distant relatives. I can’t remember exactly what it was, but I recall lying on my futon in an adjoining tatami room and hearing my grandmother explain my behavior to the relatives. "She’s gaijin," she was telling them in Japanese. "She really doesn’t know."

Well, for those who missed the "Shogun" miniseries, being called a gaijin is not a good thing. It literally means "outside person" or foreigner. Basically some fool who doesn’t know better. But to plead my case, I have to tell you that the "rules" in Japan are unspoken. They are definitely there, but no one really articulates them, so you have to step in a minefield to discover what’s really going on and perhaps lose an arm and leg in the process.

I often see parallels between the American publishing world and the Japanese world, both relationship-driven universes. There are certain rules and truths that outsiders don’t know. And yes, as writers, we think that we are insiders because we look the part, our names are part of the system, we can speak the language, we even act like we know. But oftentimes we don’t.

We author bloggers try to posit ourselves as experts, presenting our loyal readers with anecdotal evidence about the "truths" of publishing. But most of us don’t know. Publishing is a more complicated animal, an amoeba that takes different shapes and forms, constantly changing and yet utterly constant at the same time.

I recall reading that Laura Lippman once stated that she was concerned about publishing advice being spread by the web. Not wanting to rely on my faulty memory, I e-mailed her recently and she elaborated in her reply: "My primary worry is that so much info on the Internet is packaged as ‘the’ way, as opposed to one way. There is no single way."

"Good people get dropped," she went on to say. "It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. Good books don’t get the attention they deserve. But there are no simple solutions to these problems and I worry that certain approaches achieve Holy Grail status."

Basically, she expressed, those working at mainstream publishing houses do know a lot more than we authors give them credit for. I think there’s something to Laura’s words of wisdom. Yes, our own personal experience may seem like "the truth," but it’s not the whole truth. It might be an aberration, in fact.

If you want more of a big-picture reality of the publishing industry, I would point you to down under, specifically the Australian Publishers Association, who sponsors a fellowship program for writers and publishers from Australia to spend time in U.S. publishing houses and literary agencies.

I think it was Sarah Weinman’s website that turned me on to these reports a while back and I found them illuminating. I recently returned to see that a 2003-2004 report had been added, filed by Rowena Lennox. They are long, more than 70 pages, and more geared towards Australian and personal interests. They are also dated; one report is from 1999 and the second, 2001.

You’ll find superfluous information here about apartment-hunting in Manhattan and AOL hookups (yes, they are dated), but they are also fascinating.

The beauty of these reports are that they are filed by gaijin, new to this country and the New York business scene. Nothing is taken for granted in these reports–the configuration of American chain bookstores, the unique nature of New York publishing houses, the personalities of New York newspapers.

There’s detailed descriptions about the various departments in publishing houses, covers, Internet publicity, and bookstores, along with some corresponding numbers.

Again, with the time lag, there are changes, I’m sure. For instance, the situation of the mass-market book seems different in 2006 than two years earlier. Costco and other big-box stores play a larger role than ever before. Yet the general rigmarole involved in buying and producing a book has most likely stayed constant. What is also apparent is the dedication of editors and other publishing professionals in producing the best book possible.

As I scan these reports, it occurs to me that we writers don’t really have to understand all the details of the industry. We authors really see only a small slice of the larger pie and perhaps we need to do more of what we do best–write. Of course, we still have to have an eye on self-promotion because while the publishers have hundreds of books to shepherd, we just have ours. I just hope that Murderati readers realize what we are offering here on this blog is merely suggestive, not prescriptive.

The irony of it all is that sometimes it does take a gaijin to explain the system.

HOT SUMMER READ: Christine Bell of Mystery and Imagination Bookshop turned me on to Richard K. Morgan’s ALTERED CARBON and it’s been my beach reading for the past couple of days. Morgan’s debut features Takeshi Kovacs, an Envoy from Harlan’s World, a Japanese-East European planet–what would have happened if my ancestors and Harley Jane Kozak’s got together. Most of this futuristic noirish novel takes place in Bay City, formerly San Francisco. It’s got gore, sex, and violence and it’s also incredibly inventive and well-written. A definite page-turner. Brett Battles, I would definitely recommend this for you.

TOFU FOR THE SOUL: All you Angelenos, come out this weekend for this and this.

WEDNESDAY’S WORD: hakujin (SNAKESKIN SHAMISEN, page 1)

White person. Literally. Haku is one way to read the character shiro, the more popular way to say "white." "Jin" is another way to read the character hito, the more popular way to say "person."

Bewitched, Bothered & Remaindered

Denise Dietz

QUIBBLES & BITS

Once upon a long time ago, a Big Pub House editor asked me if I could write a mystery starring a witch. “Hell yes,” I said. “I wait tables in Manitou Springs (Colorado), where you can find ‘Covens’ in the phone book under C.”

“The thing is,” he said, “your witch doesn’t believe she’s a witch.”

“Not Bewitched?” I asked, crinkling my nose. “Or Margaret Hamilton?”

“Not Bewitched,” he echoed. “Or The Wizard of Oz.”

“Magic is my middle name,” I said, bursting with confidence, already thinking: SERIES!

I had used food in my other crime fiction titles – Throw Darts at a Cheesecake, Beat Up a Cookie, Footprints in the Butter. It was my bloody signature for goodness sake (trust me when I say that I was a lot younger then), so I searched my brain for a witchy title with food in it, and came up empty. All I could picture was the candy corn that people (and probably agents, too) ate at Halloween and, for some dumb reason, chocolate bunnies. I clicked an imaginary remote, switched brain channels, and remembered Macbeth…witches cooking stuff in a cauldron…lots of stuff…holy cow…SERIES. (I tend to think stream-of-consciousness — doesn’t everybody?)

I called my book EYE OF NEWT, while visions of bat wings, frog toes, dog tails and wolf teeth danced in my head. There were so many Macbeth cauldron ingredients, I lost count. Now all I had to do was conjure up 26 plots and I could be another Grafton.

My Big NY Pub House editor liked the title.

I decided Book # One’s plot would revolve around the death of a rock star named Clive Newton (names seem to pop into my head; if they don’t, I use my high school yearbook). The name of my witch-sleuth was important; after all, she had to carry 26 books! At that time, an internet authors loop was talking about naming characters after your first dog and first street. I figured "Bootsie 223rd Street" would never fly. Neither would "Shaft Route 3." But my Colorado Springs address was St. Charles Street and one of my dogs, an Australian Shepherd bitch, had been christened Sydney.

Sydney St. Charles. Cool.

I surrounded Sydney with quirky characters: two brothers—David Copperfield St. Charles and Oliver Twist St. Charles—and Great-Aunt Lillian, who hadn’t successfully cast a spell since the Beatles invaded the USA, and a parrot, dog and cat (Syd’s “familiars”) named for three Salem witches who perched at the top of the family tree. I wrote 4 chapters (50 pages) and a proposal. My editor, as I now thought of him, gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up and touted my witch series at the Big Pub House General Meeting.

It was shot down. “The concept is too dark,” the senior editor said.

“My” editor phoned. He used the F-word. A lot. Shortly thereafter, he left publishing.

I shelved the manuscript. But since I was now totally into the paranormal/ supernatural, I wrote THE LANDLORD’S BLACK-EYED DAUGHTER, an historical that includes elements of the paranormal [reincarnation], and FIFTY CENTS FOR YOUR SOUL, about an uptight actress possessed by a promiscuous demon. Landlord was turned down because editors were “uncomfortable” with the paranormal elements. Fifty Cents was published.

Flash forward several years. The supernatural was “in.” Buffy, Charmed, Medium, Charlaine Harris. I dusted off my manuscript, decided the 4 chapters were publishable, and fired up my computer. Before my first cup of caffeine, even, I had an epiphany—a word that’s almost as hard to say [and spell] as “entrepreneur.” Since I loved writing both historical fiction and crime fiction, I’d add a 1692-Salem mystery to EYE OF NEWT. Almost immediately, the naysayers came out of the woodwork. “You can’t do that unless it’s a time-travel,” they said. “Yes, I can,” I said. And did.

Having amicably left my agent of 9 years, I decided to use NEWT to audition new agents. I can write one hell of a query, so the first 4 reps I contacted wanted to see the complete manuscript. Two weren’t “enthusiastic enough” (but that was “only one opinion, and other agents might feel different” – yes, I know it’s ungrammatical, but both agents wrote it that way). One agent liked the contemp mystery but not the historical portion, and one agent, having apparently ignored the cover letter that listed my bibliography, told me I “showed promise.”

Stubborn is my middle name. I submitted my manuscript to 3 presses that didn’t require an agent-submit, and had 3 offers. I chose Five Star Mysteries. While attending a SF/Fantasy con (Fifty Cents For Your Soul is a cross-over book), I strolled through the convention’s art exhibit and saw THE perfect Eye of Newt cover, by artist Mark Ferrari. Mark emailed me a download, I sent it to Five Star, and they purchased the print rights. NEWT came out October, 2004 (nine days before Halloween) to excellent reviews, and within six weeks it had a 90% sell-through. A year later Five Star published a Trade paperback edition [with a new cover].

Last week I was told that the hardcover was being remaindered. There were exactly 209 books left in stock and Five Star offered me as many hardcovers as I wanted at the remaindered price.

Granted, “remaindered” is easier to say than epiphany and entrepreneur, but it’s an awful word. My dictionary has many definitions but, used as a verb, it means “to dispose of.” Ouch!

Surprisingly, this is my first remaindered book. My romances would always hit the stores, then leave the shelves without much farewell-fanfare. My first two diet club mysteries sold out (the verdict’s not in on Chain a Lamb Chop to the Bed, but I suspect it’ll eventually be remaindered too). My saga, The Rainbow’s Foot, sold out. So did Footprints in the Butter and Fifty Cents For Your Soul—although I have copies of all three squirreled away.

So, EYE OF NEWT [in hardcover, but not paperback] is remaindered.

Sydney St. Charles is remaindered.

Mercy the Parrot and Annie the Cat and Chasdick the Dog are remaindered.

In other words, disposed of.

My “baby,” who had such a difficult time being birthed, is disposed of.

Color me sad.

**********NEW**********

QUITE OF THE WEEK: “There’s nobody in the world like me. I think every decade has an iconic blonde…like Marilyn Monroe or Princess Diana…and right now I’m that icon.” Paris Hilton, the famous (for what, exactly?) hotel heiress.

**********NEW**********

From now on, starting today, Sydney or her brother Davy (a “wizard with a webpage) or her great-aunt Lillian will give my blog readers a spell or charm. Aunt Lillian also likes to give Household Hints, which she says are similar to spells. This weeks spell comes from Davy:

A WART OR PIMPLE CURE

To remove warts or pimples, take a small dried bean and rub it against the imperfection. Dig a hole in the ground and drop the bean into it, while saying, “As this bean decays, so will my wart (pimple) go away.” Like all banishing rituals, this one should be performed during the waning moon. Use a different bean for each blemish.

Over and out,

Deni Magic-Stubborn Dietz

PR Basics: The Big Five

by Pari Noskin Taichert

Every once in awhile, it’s good to get back to basics.

As I’ve wandered through websites and listservs lately, I’ve seen alot of worrying about trivia (what to put on a business card, which bookmarks are the best, what is the most effective giveaway, what to say at a booksigning etc. etc.)

So, this might be a good time to backtrack and think about the bigger concepts.

Before you do anything else, please take a few moments to answer these five questions. They’ll save you bodacious bucks and valuable time.

1. What’s my product?
Boy, this one seems simple to answer — but look closer.
Your product is the thing you’re trying to promote. Is it you? Is it your book? Is it a series? Is it a feeling — a sensation? Is it entertainment? Laughter? Thrills? I think many authors forget to define this at the beginning of their PR efforts — or they get confused — and it affects their success from the get-go.

2. What is its story?
This is called your message. Determine what you really want to say about your product right after you figure out #1. What’s important about your product? What’s fresh? What’s different? Why should anyone in the world care?

Guess what? You can have multiple messages.

3. Who am I trying to reach?
Who do you want to care about your product/message? These people, known as customers, are your audience. Customers don’t always buy your product, but they help you promote; they affect your efforts in a positive, active manner.

Most products have more than one audience. For example, some of the audiences for my Sasha Solomon series are traditional mystery readers, reviewers, booksellers, women’s fiction readers, baby boomer women who like to laugh, New Mexico and SW enthusiasts, people who are curious about NM, reform Jewish lit readers, radio stations, television stations, newspaper features reporters, librarians — and so on.

4. Does my message matter to my audience?
Look at the big picture here.

One of main messages about the Sasha Solomon series is that it presents a different vision of New Mexico — one that goes beyond cowboys & Indians and the weird idea that people here don’t speak English. Okay, that’s great.

But, if I’m trying to sell that message to baby boomer women who like to laugh — they simply won’t care. And it won’t matter how I package that message — on a book mark, a brochure or on custom-printed whipped cream cans; they won’t care. (Okay, maybe they would care with the whipped cream — they might realize that my books have humor with that last approach — but it’d be another message. That’s my point.)

5. Do I need to rethink my message or target audience?
If the answers come hard to questions 3 & 4, you may need to rework something. Better to realize this during the concepting stage than to spend money and effort on ineffective media campaigns, giveaways, events and so forth.

Knowing — What you’re selling, who you’re selling it to, and what matters to them,

all goes hand-in-hand. You can start anywhere in the process, but you need to get those three down before you worry about the specifics.

For me, sometimes, it helps to develop a few answers to the What–Who and What-Matters, formula. That way I can play with possibilities and see which ones are the most fun for me to pursue.

Whatever you do, use the five questions above to guide your thinking.

If you work through this process honestly, you’ll find it easier to set course and navigate your PR and Marketing campaigns.

(Again, note that this PR advice is just as useful for non-author businesspeople, too.)

Jew Eat Yet? No; Jew?

Jeffrey Cohen

It is an interesting thing to be a mystery author. People you meet will automatically assume you have a macabre streak, that you are an expert in exotic ways to dispose of corpses, and that you are using your imagination to get back at all those people who have in some way wronged you. (And even while that last one is true, it’s funny how they know it in advance.)

It’s even more interesting to be a Jewish mystery author in America. By "Jewish mystery author," I do not mean an author who writes mysteries that are about Judaism or includes characters who are Orthodox Jews, as someone like Rochelle Krich does so well. I mean an author of mysteries who happens, by happenstance and genetics, to be of Jewish descent.

For the past four years (and counting), I have been a Jewish mystery author. This is especially ironic, as I am not particularly observant–okay, I’m not even a little observant. But people I meet through the books generally expect me to have some authoritative knowledge of the Talmud, what Tu Bishvat might be, and where one can get especially good whitefish on a Sunday morning.

I don’t have a clue, I can assure you. But I’ve known all my life that people will look at my last name (and let’s face it, my face) and think, "Jew." This can be a positive thing or a negative thing (or a completely neutral thing), depending on whether you are reasonable person, or Mel Gibson.

What, you may be thinking, does this have to do with writing and marketing? A good deal, in fact.

One of the first things the publisher suggested to me when my first novel, For Whom the Minivan Rolls, was about to be printed was that I look into "the Jewish market." He said that I could find Jewish book fairs and Jewish book groups that might be interested in the book, and I could go there and talk about the book, and they would buy the book.

"But it’s really not a Jewish book," I told him. Yes, the main character is a secular Jew, much like myself, but it’s not much of an issue in that book. In fact, it barely gets a mention.

"That doesn’t matter," he said.

"But, if they expect it to be about Jewish issues, or for the character to be really Jewish, they’re going to be disappointed," I argued. I’m really good at arguing with people who are trying to help me sell my books to more people. It’s a gift.

"They don’t care if the character’s Jewish," he said. "You’re Jewish. That’s good enough."

Well, try as I might to hide my light under a bagel, there was no arguing. So I attended a few Jewish book fairs, and a few more book groups and book clubs whose members were predominantly Jewish.

They were lovely. And they couldn’t care less that my books weren’t about the "American Jewish experience." Which is a good thing, because while I could go on for days about my experience as a Jewish man in America, I don’t by any stretch represent more than… myself, and I’m no spokesman for Americans, Jews, men, or authors. I’m one example, and not an especially good one, at that.

But the groups simply wanted to hear about the books. They laughed when I hoped they would laugh, and they did, indeed, buy a good number of books. I felt a little odd about it, as if I were taking their money under false pretenses, as I’d never considered myself a Jewish Author (I was, in fact, just getting used to the idea that I was an author at all). Nobody seemed to mind.

Since then, I’ve gotten many very generous emails from some members of these groups, and people to whom they’ve recommended my books. They’ve become fans, proving once again that I have no idea what I’m talking about most of the time.

In the second Aaron Tucker novel, A Farewell to Legs, I included a scene in which Aaron runs into a woman whose opinion of us Semites was, let’s say, not especially tolerant (there’s nothing a member of ANY minority group in this country loves more than being tolerated). I did not include the scene in the book to appeal to Jewish book clubs or groups; I did it because it helped the scene, it gave Aaron a little more depth and maybe it exposed the tiniest fraction of anti-Semitism, something that even those of us who live in especially tolerant areas confront once in a while.

By the time the third book, As Dog Is My Witness, came out, I felt comfortable enough to let Aaron talk about what it’s like to be Jewish in America during what has euphemistically become known as the "Holiday Season." Once again, it was not an attempt to pander to one audience–I hope my books will appeal to everyone. But it was a subject ripe for jokes, and that’s what Aaron is about: making people laugh.

So maybe I am a Jewish Author after all.

When my new series begins next year, with Some Like It Hot Buttered: A Comedy Tonight Mystery, it will once again feature a main character who is, at least by birth, Jewish. The first book in the series has almost no reference to his ethnicity at all, as it’s not something that comes up every day. But there are always possibilities.

I have to go now and decide on a murder victim for my next book. I’m considering a movie star, but that could change…

ON THE BUBBLE WITH TESS GERRITSEN

Oh boy, where to start with this fabulous woman? You already know she’s a NYT Bestseller – an international supernova with TEN Medical Suspense novels under belt-but did you know she also wrote NINE Romantic Suspense novels as well? And you also know Tess is a physician – but I gotta tell you -that mock autopsy she did with Doug Lyle at ThrillerFest was a show stopper!

Not only is Tess Gerritsen one hell of a stunner – which is easy too see – (so let’s just all get over our envy) – she is also warm, generous with her thoughts (check out her blog) – an Edgar nominee- has a terrific laugh and a wicked sense of humor. I had to keep that in mind whilst I read her latest – VANISH – because that’s what she did to my sleep. It vanished. I had to finish the book in one evening! I now have new wrinkles around my eyes thanks to Tess. What the hell. But I’ll make Tess pay – she owes me a drink next year at ThrillerFest. But wait! There’s more! Her latest-keep-you-up-all-nighter – THE MEPHISTO CLUB – will be out on August 29th and is already making huge waves with the critics. I’ll be sure to limit myself to one chapter each night so I can get some sleep. Yeah, right.

EE: So, Tess – tell us at what point in your career did you find it necessary to kick of those Manolo’s and switch to Nike’s?

TG: I’m too cheap to buy Manolo’s. I’m a girl who’s favored bare feet since I was a kid, and would probably break a leg if I tried to wear a shoe with a heel taller than 3 inches. You’ll be able to recognize me as the gal with the ugliest but most comfortable shoes in the room.

Okay, that spy is off the payroll. She told me…well, anyway – you looked pretty stylish in Phoenix.

EE: Is it true you listen to Perry Como whilst you write? Do his soothing tones help you conjure such mayhem?

TG: You’re thinking of my mother.

Whoops, there goes another spy!

EE: Okay, here’s an easy one: What is your favorite retreat? And what do you do there?

TG: My own head. And I do everything there. Not all of which I can talk about.

Really. Hmmmm. Oh, we’ll really have to have that drink!

EE: Everyone has a Walter Mitty dream, what’s yours? 75,000 words or less. I normally say to keep it clean, but after that last answer-I’m intrigued.

TG: Brad Pitt decides Angelina Jolie just isn’t hot enough for him anymore, and then his gaze meets mine across the room, and… No, honestly, I’m already living my Walter Mitty dream. I still can’t believe I’m getting paid so well just to make stuff up.

Aw, shucks – you had me going there. But hey, if you’re happy?

EE: Word on the street is that Orlando Bloom is after you to star opposite him in the next ‘Pirates of the Caribbean: The Quest for Tess’. When do you see your calendar clear to begin?

TG: Five minutes ago. (Will I get to keep the sex scenes?)

There’s a slight problem – it’s a bit iffy at this point. But I think I’ve got everyone conviced you can keep them as long as you promise to get back to work on your next thriller. See, the powers that be are afraid you might run off with Orlando…but not to worry, okay? I’m on the case.

EE: Rumor has it that your medical colleagues asked you to stick to writing suspense thrillers because your beauty is too distracting in the OR. Well, Tess?

TG: The real reason my medical colleagues think I’m a natural-born thriller writer is because they’ve seen what I look like after a night on call. That was pretty scary for them.

Oh, will you listen to her? Doesn’t she ever look in the mirror? I’d kill to look like her!

EE: So, about that little tete-a-tete you and Alex Kava had with Dominick Dunne at ThrillerFest last month? Wanna explain? Alex hinted that it had to do with body parts and take-out containers – and something to do with next year’s ThrillerFest. How about it?

TG: I have no recollection of such events. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?

Okay, okay – mum’s the word. My lips are sealed. Zip. Zip. I’ll call you later, okay?

EE: Suspenseville is abuzz about that bunch of good looking new writers surrounding you at the bar in Phoenix. I mean, all that laughter? Surely you all weren’t talking about those take-out containers.

TG: Those good looking guys were writers? I thought they were cabana boys.

Uh, well – actually they were writers – but in disguise as cabana boys so their wives wouldn’t catch on. Like I said – I’ll call you.

EE: I understand you have a habit of dunking croissants in your espresso. Is this before you add lemon, or just with cream?

TG: What, do you think I’m a savage?

Hell, there goes another spy down the tubes.

EE: Okay, forget the stuff those incompetent spies told me – tell me who would be your ideal panel mates.

TG: Neil Nyren, M.J. Rose, and Jason Pinter. They know everything there is to know about the business of publishing. All I’d have to do is sit back and let them talk.

Now that’s what I call good planning. Verrryy astute. I like that in a woman. Maybe I should get a seat in the front row?

EE: I hear that you plan to do a duet with Michael Palmer at next year’s ThrillerFest Gala. Care to tell us what song are you two working on?

TG: Michael knows what I sound like. So he’ll stand on stage with his hand over my mouth and it’ll be his solo.

Um, I hate to break this to you, Tess – but that ain’t what he’s planning. I hear he has a Nelson Eddy-Jeanette McDonald type of thing in mind – and he’s working on ‘Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life’ as your duet. Kinda apropos for two doc’s doncha think?

EE: Whispers are rampant that your publisher has hired two bodyguards to escort you on your next book tour to keep the dozens of male fans at arms length. Care to comment?

TG: The first thing I’m going to do is fire the bodyguards. How dare they try to keep me away from my male fans?

Right! My thoughts exactly! The cretins!

EE: Okay, Tess – I’ve been easy on you, but now we want to know which writer would you love to have all to yourself in a cozy oorner of the bar at the next ThrillerFest?

TG: Joe Finder. But he already knows that. Maybe that’s why he keeps avoiding me.

I think he’s just shy. But ohh…he is such a hunk!

EE: Now here’s a real dumb question, but what the hell. What would you be doing if you weren’t writing?

TG: I’d be dead.

I know that every writer reading this will understand that.

EE: On a lighter note -who would be your ideal book tour mate?

TG: Joe Konrath. I want to watch the consummate salesman at work. Besides, he already knows where all the bookstores in the country are located. But since I’m not a big fan of lice, I get to choose the hotels.

And I’d bet that Joe would be so thrilled to have you with him -he’d even spring for the bill if the publisher balked at Five Star accommodations! Right, Joe? Hello? Joe? I think we lost him Tess.

EE: We’ve heard you’re a genuine gourmet cook, so invite for us – six guests – who would they be – and what would you serve?

TG: Do they have to be living people? Because Cleopatra and Helen of Troy would certainly be on my dream list. But if they have to be living, then I’d choose journalists. Journalists have always been my heroes. I want them to explain to me what the hell is going on in the world. I’d invite Seymour Hersh, Christiane Amanpour, Helen Thomas, Paul Krugman, and David Gregory. And as a sixth, I’d add David Letterman, just to make sure we laugh once in awhile. What would I cook? Are you kidding? I’d have it catered, so I wouldn’t miss a single word!

Hey, I can whip up a great spread for you. I’d even keep my lips zipped if I could hover in the hall and listen in. You set the date, send out the invitations – and I’ll conjure up a menu. Call me, okay?

And that, boys and girls – is the one and only Tess Gerritsen. Mark your calendars for August 29th and pick up THE MEPHISTO CLUB! Oh, almost forgot – Tess has a short story in THRILLER as well.

Thank you, Tess – for joining in the fun and for being such a good sport!

Terror in Music City

JT Ellison

No, not that kind of terror.

The terror that comes from facing an unknown. The terror of
speaking in public. The terror that precedes my very first public appearance on
the teaching side of a panel at a writer’s conference. It happens tomorrow, and
I’m scared to death.

Saturday, August 4, 2006 marks the very first writer’s
conference where I’ll be facing an audience. It’s called Murder in Music City and is
sponsored by the Southeast Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. The goal is
to help aspiring authors gain knowledge and skills to assist in the journey
toward publication. And somehow, someone thought that I’d be a good person to
have for this.

What were they thinking? What was I thinking to agree?????

Okay, true confessions time. I have a little public speaking
fear. In graduate school, we had to get up in front of a class and a video
camera and do a 30 second political spot we’d written. Writing the copy was a
no brainer. But as I watched my classmates parade, one by one, up to the
podium, launch into their campaign ads, my palms started to sweat. My head
started to hurt. By the time it was my turn, I was feeling a little panicky. I
got up in front of the group, the light of the camera went on, and I FROZE.
Heart in my throat, black spots in front of my eyes, the works. I took a couple
of shallow breaths, mumbled my way through and got the hell out of there. Hubby
was there (boyfriend at the time) and he was shocked. Here I was, this well put
together woman who could jaw with Senators and Congressmen all night, but a
little 30 second camera spot unglued me. He should have run then.

I’ve been worried about this for a while. What in the hell
am I going to do in front of an audience now? I’ll tell you. I’m going to
panic. I may not show it, but my heart will be racing, I’ll stumble over my
words – in short, it’s not going to be pretty.

Facing an audience is the one thing I didn’t sign up for
when I decided to become a full time writer. I love my computer, my desk,
email, the phone. I love critique groups, going to Sisters in Crime meetings.
Hell, I had a ball at ThrillerFest (with a little help from my little friend
for the first couple of days, if you know what I mean). Just don’t ask me to
speak to the group.

So I’ve been fretting for a solid year about this moment. I
know myself, once I get used to it, I’ll be fine. Practice makes perfect, all
that good stuff. It’s the initial events that are going to be rough. I’m never
going to have the style and panache of J.A. Konrath, who can crash a meeting of
Sisters in Crime Middle TN Chapter and talk for an hour, off the cuff, about
his long road getting published. I’m never going to have the charm and grace of
a Tasha Alexander, who captivated an audience I was in for an hour. We wanted more.
I’ll never have the laconic coolness of Lee Child, the off the cuff humor of
John Connolly, the gravitas of Jan Burke. I don’t even worry about that,
really. Why set yourself up for failure, you know?

So here’s the set up. I was supposed to be on a panel with
several other SEMWA mystery writers. A bit panic inducing, but my most
excellent friend, JB Thompson, was tapped to moderate. I knew I could manage
that. I talked myself through it and knew I would ultimately be okay.

The there was a schedule change. And don’t get me wrong, I’m
thrilled about this, just a wee bit nervous. The esteemed P.J. Parrish (the
Kelly Nichols half) is the headliner, doing a presentation on writing
thrillers. The powers that be decided that I’d fit better with her, an old pro
v. new kid on the block set-up. So it’s the two of us, with a killer PowerPoint
presentation, in front of the audience, for 90 minutes.

Can you say stomach cramps?

I’m going overboard here. I’ve never met Kelly but have
heard amazingly wonderful stories about both her and her sister, Kristy. She
has been so gracious, forthcoming and damn helpful getting this presentation
together. She’s a cool cucumber, has done this a million times, and will
certainly be able to cover any flubs I might make. Personally, I plan to sit
back, click the mouse to change slides and pray no one knows I’m there. Vanna White, anyone?

If you’ve met me, you might not believe this deep rooted
fear is possible. I’m a bit chatty, actually. I enjoy meeting new people. I’m
generally a pretty outgoing, laid back kind of girl. It’s the audience that
scares me.

So I have a favor to ask, my fellow scribes and readers. Can
you share some embarrassing moments you’ve had or witnessed? Please tell me I’m
not the only one who’s ever had this mind numbing feeling, and I’ll go into
tomorrow with my head held high.

And a plastic bucket under the table, just in case.

Wine of the Week: Red Guitar Navarro Tempranillo Garnacha

P.S. For yet another chance to see me flub my lines, KillerNashville is just around the corner, September 15-16. If you’re in the Southeast and want a great conference to attend close to home, come check it out. Click here for more information.

BIG P.P.S. Just found out one of my most favorite authors will be the special guest ON THE BUBBLE tomorrow. You DON’T want to miss her. Hints? NEVER! You must come back in the morning for your treat.

Master Class

My stories are being used in the classroom environment to teach students about literature. Wow, can you say, a feather in your cap?

It’s quite a compliment to learn that my work is being used for literary study, especially at the university level. It’s weird that my stories have made it into a university classroom when I never did.

The stories are being used in an honors English program in a class for interpretive reading. The students select a piece from a bunch of stories and remark on the symbolism in the story and the crux of what the author intended to say.

Seeing as I’m alive and not dead, the professor asked if I wanted to see a summary of what the students had found in my work. Furthermore, the professor asked if I wanted to remark on their findings because the students wanted to know if they were right with their interpretations.

I wasn’t sure at first. These were students (with an education) viewing what I write on an academic level. I don’t write that way. I write stories because I’ve thought of a great idea for a story and I want to tell it. I write genre fiction, because I like genre fiction. I’m not trying to be literary. I’m trying to be entertaining. Even though the thought of clever minds picking through my stories sounded as appetizing as hearing about an analysis of my stomach contents, I said sure. Deep down, I was flattered by the fact the university was using my stories and I wanted to hear what they thought.

“Bring it on,” I said.

Hmm. The results weren’t what I was expecting. Their analysis was very complimentary. They said some very nice things, but boy, did they read a lot into those stories. They formulated theories and concepts that sounded so convincing that I almost believed them. It sounded great. I came off as a genius. But they read far more into the pieces than I had intended.

I know it’s said for truth, read fiction. Animal Farm was an allegory for Stalin’s corruption of communist Russia and not a child’s fairytale, although it can be read as both.

Students saw a heavy Christian message because of the perceived Catholic symbolism in one story and detailed a compelling argument for it. The problem is that I’m not a Catholic and it had nothing to do with the story. When another of my stories was selected, I asked the professor if they’d made a connection between the story and the war in Iraq.

“They did,” the professor said. “And was there one?”

“No,” I replied. “I could just see where they might get that idea.”

It’s made me wonder if these interpretations say more about the reader than the writer.

This isn’t to say their interpretations are wrong or that my stories are entirely shallow, escapist fun. It’s just that my inspiration for a story comes from strange places, personal experiences, half conversations, backhand remarks, other people’s lives, or a sandwich I had last week. From that I’ll think of an interesting premise and inject a conflicting character into that situation. And from that I hope to have an interesting tale. I try not to inject an agenda into my stories, because when I read them all I see is the agenda and I’ve crossed the line from entertainment to a sermon and I don’t want that. I’m a storyteller, not a politician or a preacher.

This experience has made me a little self conscious about the lines I read between when I’m reading other people’s work. Do my assumptions go beyond what the writer intended? Because sometimes, a story is just a story and nothing more.

Happy reading,
Simon Wood