Thursday, November 29, 2007

The Way In

By Nina Wright

For three years I was glued to my chair writing one book after another on deadline. Six books, six sales. Very satisfying.

In recent months, however, my goals and my pace have changed. I’ve researched, contemplated, and started a half-dozen fiction projects unrelated to anything I’ve done before. Since I write for younger readers as well as adults, I’m continuously monitoring trends in several markets at the same time that I audition new ideas. Although the “market mindset” is necessary, I find it also potentially distracting and, worse, discouraging. Thus I’ve concluded that it’s time to stop obsessing over what sells and simply write from my heart.

Finding "the way in" is different every time. I vividly recall walking through a cemetery in Tecumseh, Michigan five years ago when I imagined a girl who saved a key from every apartment she lived in with her troubled, itinerant mother. At the time I was facing a move that seemed both inevitable and ill-advised. Notes for Homefree traveled with me and found their way into a draft that endured many revisions and submissions before it was published in 2006. The notion of the saved key survived but ended up a sidebar rather than the center of the story.

When I wrote Whiskey on the Rocks, the book that launched the Whiskey Mattimoe series, I was sharing my rural home with Lucille, a dog rescued in late pregnancy by my then-husband and me. Not remotely an Afghan hound, Lucille was a mutt with fast legs, a scary snarl and bafflingly high self-esteem. Like Abra, she had no apparent maternal instincts and a libido that wouldn't quit. She also had a propensity for chasing anything that promised misadventure. Given the slightest opening, Lucille would take off running full-tilt toward the nearest tavern, which lay on the other side of a vast soybean field. She'd ignore our calls for at least 24 hours before—I swear—she came home stinking of whiskey and cigarettes. I could never figure out what the bitch was up to. So my creativity kicked in. An old friend from college had an energetic Afghan hound; mentally I morphed the two dogs into one and added a healthy dash of imagination. The result was Abra.

What inspires me these days? Mostly, things that go wrong. Or could go wrong, or at least madly off course. Example: While I was grooming my father's cat, the feline kicked a wadded up paper toward me. It contained a confusing partial message written in a cramped hand; my father claimed he'd never seen the note before. Who wrote it, and why did the cat have it? That incident went straight into my notebook of potential story ideas. Since I’m inclined to use the most recent notions, I periodically review older entries to see whether any of those ignite sparks. When they do, it’s the lonely writer’s equivalent of Christmas.

Other ways in: Because I favor visual stimulation, once I get an idea working, I look for photos to feed it. Dozens of pictures of St. Augustine, Florida (for my teen books) and Afghan hounds (for the Whiskey books) fill my walls and computer files. My screensaver is always a slideshow related to my current projects.

Music provides another access point. Whiskey and Water, the fourth Whiskey Mattimoe mystery, was fueled by a Barenaked Ladies soundtrack. Imagining Whiskey’s first marriage set to those tunes made the writing not only easier but a helluva lot of fun. My close friends benefited, too; they got copies of BNL’s Greatest Hits.

Now and then I track my dreams, and whenever I do, something intriguing shows up. A Southern woman named Picket Pie came to me in my sleep. She explained that her name was short for Elizabeth Bye and promised she’d be back. Months later she appeared on the page as a leading character in my play Cherchez Dave Robicheaux.

All writers know that the way in is both simpler and more complicated than I make it sound here. I eavesdrop shamelessly; free-associate wildly; take lots of photos; go for long walks, swims, and bike rides; brainstorm exhaustive lists and alternate scenarios; and draft interviews, monologues, dialogues, and character bios. Sometimes I bounce ideas off friends.

What’s your way in? The key, I think, is to get out there and in there and turn off your mental critic. Put another way: “Travel boldly, listen closely, and carry a bright light.”

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Drinks with Jennifer Aniston

Tom Schreck, author of On the Ropes, A Duffy Dombrowski Mystery

"Wow, so your book is out?" Jennifer Aniston said. She took a mini sip of Pinot Grigio.

"Well, yeah, it officially came out September 1st but the publisher released it in August," I said. We were at this small place called Supper in Alphabet City.

"An author, a real author..." Her blue eyes sparkled and she looked at me so long I started to get uncomfortable.

"Hey, I'm no Tim Maleeny."

"What's it about?" Jenn toyed with her wine glass running a slender finger along its rim.

"Oh, come on. I don't want to bore you." I paused and looked at her. "What about Friends and your movies," I panicked slightly not being able to remember any of the movie titles.

"Please..." She said and scrunched up her face in that adorable Jennway. "Tell me what its about."

"Okay," I sighed. Before becoming a big deal published author I dreamed of beautiful women asking me about it. Now, frankly, it had become tiresome.

"It's called On the Ropes, A Duffy Dombrowski Mystery and there's this social worker about to get fired from his job because he never does the paper work. He's also a bad pro boxer who lives in a trailer. He winds up trying to solve the murder of one of his down and out clients and save her step daughter from an internet porn ring. In the meantime he has to adopt his client's obstinate Black Muslim basset hound, Allah-King. Then--"

Jenn interrupted.

"What's obstinate mean?"

"You know, disobedient." I say.

"Oh..."

"So anyway, then Duffy, the main character, uncovers a terrorist plot, corrupt doctors and maybe a plot to blow up Yankee Stadium." I was glad my description was over. It's so tedious going over the plot again and again.

"That sounds soooo cool. Where can I get it?"

"Most bookstores, though I prefer the independents."

She tosses her hair and looks away. Then she puts her hand over her mouth and sort of giggles. She shakes her head.

"What?" I say.

"Oh...I don't know. it's just..." She looks away again, frowns and her eyes seem just a little wet.

"What?"

"It's just that the guys I know...the guys I'm used to... they're so...I don't know...shallow. But you...you're an author," she says.

I feign a smile. I get this a lot lately.

"Will their be others?" Her playful giggle is gone and in its place is a kind of sad intense look.

"Sure, TKO comes out in June and then there's Out Cold which I'm working on now. After that there will be one where Duffy and Al go to Las Vegas. But--"

I didn't get to finish.

"I didn't mean other books."

She looks down and I can sense she's embarrassed. "I meant... oh, never mind."

Her eyes well up again only this time I was almost sure a tear would escape.

It was awkward.

Being a big deal author often was.








Monday, November 26, 2007

Ready, aim...

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. This post would have appeared sooner but the tryptophan hadn't worn off. Today I was thinking of some of my favorite targets. Not individuals but institutions. Not specific villains but a pattern of behavior. The evil of committees, the casual denial of the bureaucrat.

Crime fiction appeals because unlike real life, it has a clear moral compass, with characters willing to do the right thing regardless of the sacrifice, the limits of law or the constraints of society. Often the protagonist, whether PI, rogue cop or regular Joe, is the one standing up for the underdog, taking on the powerful and the corrupt on behalf of the little guy. As you think about your own writing or favorite authors, it's interesting to consider if you have any favorite targets.

I often find myself gravitating towards novels unafraid to go after organizations that act above reproach but all too often are picking your pocket with one hand while patting your back with the other. Politicians and the media are easy targets, especially today. Dig below the surface of any major criminal enterprise and you’ll probably find someone using your tax dollars to subsidize it or leveraging the media to put a spin on it. I think crime fiction can bring some perspective to both that hypocrisy and our contradictory nature, that we live in a society in which we’re all in on the joke and yet the same scams keep happening. That’s a very human condition, which makes it perfect fodder for fiction.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Interview with Donna Andrews, Part I


By G.M. Malliet

Q: Your writing career took off when /Murder with Peacocks/ won the Malice Domestic/St. Martin's Press Best First Traditional Mystery contest, and went on to win the Agatha, Anthony, Barry, and Romantic Times awards for best first novel. It also won the Lefty award for the funniest mystery of 1999. Subsequent books have also received Agatha and Lefty nominations. Did you have a background in writing—or were you an “overnight success?”

A: I'm the very opposite of an overnight success. I began writing in grade school. In college, I did a double major in English and drama with a concentration in writing. With the exception of a year and a half stint in secretarial jobs, I've always earned my living by writing--though before /Murder with Peacocks/ was published, it was from nonfiction, or corporate fiction, whichever term you prefer. For a long time, I thought I'd lost my way, spending all those years writing stuff that wasn't my own, but in retrospect, I realize it was excellent training. I learned a lot of tricks and techniques for writing even when I didn't feel inspired. And I learned a lot about professionalism, discipline, and work ethics that has stood me in good stead now that I'm writing full time.

I suspect many people groan when I talk about writing in terms of professionalism and discipline--I think they expect to hear novelists talk about inspiration and creativity. Well, yes, those are important--but they're a lot easier to come by. All too often, the difference between an aspiring writer and a successful, published one
isn't a matter of inspiration and creativity--a lot of people are creative and get great ideas for books. I've read a statistic that only ten percent of people who begin a novel actually persevere to complete it, so anyone who has a finished manuscript is already in the minority. And an even smaller number of people, after finishing their draft, do the revising needed to turn it into a really good book, and then do the research required to learn about the publishing industry and persevere through what can be a long and grueling quest to land a good agent and a contract with an established publisher.

So in retrospect, the years I spent quietly working away in the corporate world were exactly the training I needed. I just wish I could have figured out how to transfer the skills and knowledge I was building to fiction a little sooner, but better late than never.

Q: What made you choose to write a mystery novel, as opposed to a mainstream novel?

A: Partly because I think it's important to read the genre you write, and write in a genre you read. I grew up reading a lot of fantasy and science fiction, but my college roommate introduced me to many of what are now my favorite mystery writers, and I began to find that while I was buying and borrowing both speculative fiction and mysteries, the mysteries were getting read much faster. Looking back, I think that at the time, the mystery genre was going through a wonderful period of expansion and diversification, with the debut of many writers who have become giants of the genre, while the speculative fiction shelves were heavily populated with bad Tolkien clones and worse Star Wars ripoffs.

I'm not saying everything in the science fiction and fantasy field was rotten--at the same time I began to discover writers who are still among my favorites, such as Barbara Hambly, Lois McMaster Bujold, Steven Brust, Tanya Huff, and Terry Pratchett, to name a few. But back then I found a lot more to love and admire in the mystery field.

And I also think I write mysteries partly because it's the genre that still respects things like a well-constructed, comprehensible plot and engaging characters. I'm not the only mystery writer who sometimes feels baffled when reading books in the mainstream or literary fiction genres--and they are genres. One writer friend jokingly said that she got halfway through a critically praised mainstream book and felt so frustrated that she wasn't sure she was going to finish it. "It wasn't the fact that I hadn't seen a body yet--I could live with that," she said. "It was the complete absence of any hint of a plot." I understand what she means.

I also find myself mildly annoyed when someone talks about a book "transcending the genre." Sounds a lot like the written equivalent of "overcoming his unfortunate upbringing." If I read a mystery that really blows me away--Laura Lippman's Every Secret Thing or To the Power of Three, for example--I don't feel obliged to say that it transcended the genre. Just that it's a really great book. Period.

Q: Do you ever think of writing a mainstream novel, or a novel in any other genre? Or will you be staying with the mystery?

A: I won't be abandoning the mystery, but I've already strayed beyond the boundaries into science fiction and fantasy. (Heck, some people think the Turing series WAS science fiction--I disagree; it's a traditional mystery with a slightly science fiction-tinged protagonist.) One of the first short stories I sold was /to Powers of Detection/, an anthology Dana Stabenow edited for Ace, in which each story has a murder in a fantasy or science fiction setting. It was promoted mainly to the speculative fiction market. There's a sequel volume, /Unusual Suspects/, in the works for 2008, and I've also had a story accepted by Charlaine Harris and Toni Kelner for a werewolf-themed anthology that will be a followup to their New York Times bestselling /Many Bloody Returns/.

My first two (unpublished) novels were a fantasy and a coming of age story--though I realized later that there was a mystery subplot in both. And while a lot of the ideas I get fit easily into the framework of the humorous mystery, I'm marinating a few that aren't funny or aren't mysteries--or in some cases, aren't either. So time will tell how many of them I manage to write and my agent manages to sell.

Q: Which books or writers do you feel have most influenced your writing?

A: I hate trying to figure out what my influences are--there are probably too many of them. Can I leave it at one book? Freddy the Detective, by Walter R. Brooks. One of my favorite books in grade school. Freddy the Pig has read Sherlock Holmes and becomes a sleuth, with the help of his friends, Mrs. Wiggins the cow and Jinx the Cat. I enjoyed it as a child, and when I recently reread it, I found that it was also a great pastiche of the Holmes books and a funny, funny book. So that probably started me off early along the path that eventually led me to writing humorous mysteries of my own.

Q: Humor writing can be the most difficult of all. I realize the process is hard to describe, but do you have any tips for “writing funny?”

A: I think the biggest tip is that if it doesn't come naturally to you, maybe you shouldn't try it. Some of the worst writing I see from good writers happens when they make the mistake of thinking they can just dash off something light and funny--that because it's light, it will also be easy. Ever seen the movie /Punchline/, with Tom Hanks? There are scenes were he's slaving over a routine, working over and over to get the timing just right. You have to be willing to work that hard if necessary, and accept the fact that sometimes even working that hard doesn't produce something that's funny.

I just try to come up with things that amuse me. And then I tweak and polish, agonize over whether other people will find the same things funny, and never know for sure whether any of it works until some of my critiquers weigh in. One of the worst experiences of my life was when one of my usual critiquers read the draft of one of my books--/We'll Always Have Parrots/--while she was not in a good place in her life, and didn't find a single line funny. Fortunately I had a couple of other people reading it--otherwise, who knows? My writing career might have come to a sudden, abrupt, self-inflicted end.

I've learned not to take it too hard when some people don't find my books as funny as others do. Humor is such a personal thing that what has one person laughing out loud will leave others cold. That's another reason why it's so hard to write humor. Not a game for the thin-skinned.

+++++
Stay tuned for Part II of the Donna Andrews interview, appearing December 26. In the meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving, all! GMM

Monday, November 19, 2007

Literary Road Kill


It's that time of year up here in the land of beer and cheese. The boys and girls in the blaze orange hit the woods and the deer start to lose their minds. And, if my drive home from Milwaukee from a fantastic book conference last weekend was any indication, deer have not evolved enough to gauge the speed of 4000 pound hunks of metal rolling along at 80 miles per hour. I started counting the deer along side the road, but lost count somewhere around Madison. So I popped in a Bob Marley CD and wondered if deer believe in everliving life and are followers of Jah. I've never seen a deer with dreadlocks, but they do eat a lot of grass.... Yes, thus are the musings of a writer alone in a car on a long road trip.
And not so unlike those deer on the side of the road, I too am on the side of the road with my current work. Meaning, I'm at a stage in the process where I think, "Who in their right mind would want to read this drivel?" Yes, I'm at the stage of Literary Road Kill. And like the deer going nuts every fall, I too know that I will go through this stage in every single novel I write. I will second guess myself. I will peer out from the bushes at the Mack trucks that scream by thinking, "Should I go now? Shit! Too late! Okay, should I go now? Will this be the right time?" To be perfectly honest, I won't ever know. Again, like the deer, I fear I will never evolve enough to figure out how to time it just right. I'm just hoping that my timing is good enough that I don't end up Literary Road Kill.

REJECT

My first rejection—hmmm. That brings back painful and embarrassing memories. At that time I was writing historical fiction—about 2500 years ago in the Florida Everglades. (Later, thanks to Jean Auel and CLAN OF THE CAVEBEAR, it got it’s own genre name of pre-historic fiction.) I sent out at least thirty query letters to agents and had already decided that I would send the manuscript on a first come, first serve basis. Whoever responded to me first would be the lucky agent to first get to read (and of course then represent) my gem of a book. To my surprise and dismay, agents were not quick to respond, and it was all I could do to keep from calling and ask if they had received my query. I am so thankful now that I resisted. How bad would that have been? Finally, responses started appearing in my mailbox. Most were in the form of pre-printed cards that all said basically the same thing, no thanks, and then ended with a note wishing me well. After about ten of these notes from the unimaginative, mistaken agents, I had grown some thick skin, even though my ego was in drought mode. I began collecting the rejections in a scrapbook because one day I would have the chance to wave their missed opportunity in their faces. And that would feel so good.

After more rejections my hurt feelings were finally coupled with reality. I think the one rejection that really struck home was the one from an agent who sent the traditional “no thanks” card but felt so strongly against my “jewel” that he scribbled a note about how bad and asinine my idea was. Wow, somebody really hated it that much! Luckily it wasn’t my first rejection or I would have given up.

It wasn’t long after that when the first couple of letters showed up requesting to see the manuscript. A trickle of self-esteem began returning. Then, at last my “baby” found a home.
I still have that scrapbook. It keeps me humble. And when a yet unpublished writer asks my best advice, I tell them to keep sending it out, sending it out, sending it out. So many give up after the first rejection. There is no magic bullet to getting published. It takes hard work and determination. Very rarely is it because you know someone in the business. For most of us it is doing our homework and being persistent. Writing is such a personal thing and rejection does hurt, but it doesn’t stop us. Writers need to write, so we keep on.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

1930s whodunits

My name is Jerry Anderson, and I am the author of Death Before Dinner, which was published by Midnight Ink last March. When I was in college, I used to become disgusted with my dad, who insisted on reading mystery novels while I was trying to force him to read my favorite Thomas Hardy or Joseph Conrad of Dostoyevsky or some such literary gem. I gave up on this project to improve my father's literary tastes, to our mutual benefit. Then, oh, it must be about a hundred years ago now, I was doing research in London. I was living in a flat near Earl's Court Road, in a building right out of "Upstairs/Downstairs." It had once been the London home of some tof gentleman, and had now been divided into twenty-one flats. I was living in a basement flat, where once some miserable footman perhaps plied his trade. 
Anyhow, so here I am with a flat that I had to pay for in advance for the summer. As a graduate student, I had very little money, and while the swinging London night scene had a great deal of appeal, I did not have the pounds and pence to make it happen. I had a little transistor radio and that was it. My research concerned the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB), the British Union of Fascists (BUF) and the national government of Ramsay MacDonald and Stanley Baldwin. At issue was the whole question of civil liberties versus public order in the 1930s. That is, at what point does it seem necessary to infringe on traditional civil liberties to protect the people against civil disorder. During this painful decade, mas demonstrations were threatening the civil fabric of London. Well, weighty stuff, right? I thought I needed to know more about the lives of people in the 1930s before I could properly write about their political dynamics. There was nothing to do in that cold basement (that month of June was the coldest January of my life!!) exceptr to read. The libraries and public records offices all closed about 5:30 in those days. However, I discovered a used bookstore only a block away. I could buy a paperback book for ten pence, and if I brought it back he would give me five pence for it. Heckuvadeal!! Well, I saw a couple of Agatha Christies there and so I thought I'd give them a try. Two days later I was back for two more. I read them eating lunch, I read them while riding in the tube, and I read them at night. Then it was on to Dorthy Sayers. Then Ngaio Marsh (alright, so maybe she was more 40s and 50s, but by this time I was not concerned too much about academic things). Perhaps my favorite, though, was an American writer. One of the reasons I am writing this is to acquaint readers with the work of John Dickson Carr. Carr wrote some books under that name, but he also wrote them under the pen name of Carter Dickson. Although born and raised in the South (I think South Carolina) he became an American expatriot in the 1930s and all of his books are set in England. He became the master of the locked door mysteries. His slueth, the unforgetable Dr. Gideon Fell, would easily solve how someone could be murdered in a roon where all the doors and windows were locked (No, no trap doors, secret passages or a large chimney) and the corpse was the only occupant of the room. 
Well, one gets hooked on this stuff, as I would guess many of the readers of this blog will allow, and when I came back to America, I pretty much put in a claim for my Dad's paperback collection. Serious, academic literary pursuits have taken a hit ever since. 
Death Before Dinner is the first of the Palmer Knutson novels. Murder Under the Loon will come out in March, and Death by the Prairie Chicken will follow the year after that. Palmer Knutson is a Norwegian American sheriff of Otter Tail County and is the type of character found on the Prairie Home Companion. In a future blog, I will wax on about Scandihoovian Minnesota.
Jerry Anderson