Hey, There's A Dead Guy in the Living Room

Malice Stuff (Now With One Picture!)

Jeff Cohen

 

Me (um, third from left) with, from left, Meredith Cole, Cynthia Chow, Leann Sweeney, Lorraine Bartlett and Heather Webber (in background, Luci "the Poison Lady" Zahray and PJ Coldren)

BETHESDA, MD--Every once in a while, it's nice to go somewhere other than one's home and pretend to be a famous author. (Here might be the place to note that some people appear to believe the words "famous" and "author" are joined appropriately for more than, say, 10 people on the planet. They're wrong.)

 

For the mystery author, particularly one whose work falls into the category we unfortunately refer to as "cozies," there can be few experiences as gratifying as attending the Malice Domestic conference in Bethesda, MD every April. And so it was this weekend.

Malice, for the uninitiated, is an annual three-day (ish) conference that isn't quite of Bouchercon proportions (which is nice, since an author at Bouchercon often feels like someone trying to be noticed in the third tier at Yankee Stadium) but larger than most regional gatherings. It's not by any means an intimate con, but it isn't so huge that you won't run into almost everyone you want to see sooner or later.

Since it devotes itself almost entirely to the "traditional" mystery--and if someone could make the distinction for me between that and a cozy, I'd appreciate it--Malice's panels can be about anything from the right kind of poison to use in that tricky situation to how to work knitting cat quilts into a story about multiple murders. 

Authors do their best to answer increasingly detailed questions about process while mentioning, as many times as possible, their latest works. This is tolerated by fans, who appear to be thrilled to see the creators of their favorite novels in the flesh. 

From my point of view--and I just returned from Malice a few hours ago--here are my quick and unconsidered memories and impressions of Malice Domestic 24:

* Malice is a fan convention. As such, it's not meant to be an author's retreat--we're there to meet the readers, and thank goodness, they show up in great numbers. Many of them have even read our books! And they comment--almost always favorably--about what they've read. That is the greatest pleasure of the author biz, hearing from appreciative readers. 

* Coming in a close second to meeting readers is renewing acquaintances and friendships with other authors. Give writers a bar and other writers to talk to, and we are a happy bunch. Among those I was especially happy to see again: Leann Sweeney, Lorraine Bartlett, Hank Phillipi Ryan, Jim and Joyce Lavene, Chris Grabenstein, Ilene Schneider, Elaine Viets, Jennifer Stanley, Kate Carlisle, Roberta Rogow, Jane K. Cleland, Dru Ann Love, Roberta Isleib, Parnell Hall, Neil Plakcy, Con Lehane and Hallie Ephron.

*Glimpsed from across a crowded room: Lee Goldberg, Jan Burke, Donna Andrews, and many, many others. 

* Spent time talking to two of my favorite librarians on the planet (our own Dale, alas, did not attend), the gracious and wry Doris Ann Norris and the luminescent Cynthia Chow.

* Talked for a good while (and I mean "good") with Jack Bludis and Debbie Mack, which was fun.

* Had a blast of a panel, something different called "Dirty Little Secrets" with the moderator Aimee Hix and fellow panelists Robin Hathaway, Kate Gallison, Elizabeth Lynn Casey and Toni L.P. Kelner. Had to figure out what skills I have other than writing (hint: not many), who has done the largest kindness to me ever, and what my writing-on-a-deadline snack might be. A lot of good laughs, mostly for my panel mates.

* After the panel, got to sign books next to the too-long-absent Mindy Starns Clark, who showed me the ropes at my first mystery conference about 10 years ago and made me feel like maybe I did belong after all. It's always great to see her and hear about her family.

* Got to talk to my exalted editor, Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, whom I do not see nearly often enough. It's always a pleasure, even when she's telling me about more work I need to do on something I thought was already finished.

* Talked to a few certified legends of the biz, like Charlaine Harris and (briefly) Joan Hess. Great for those moments when you start believing your own publicity releases to remember that you haven't done anywhere near what others have accomplished.

* Heard a talk by the ridiculously knowledgeable Luci Zahray (the poison lady) about Ethanol, and no, it wasn't regarding the benefits or deteriments of using it as an alternative fuel. There's a reason nobody ever lets Luci buy them drinks at a conference.

Overall, Malice is something no writer of less-than-gory mysteries should miss. I came back recharged, invigorated, and exhausted. To a house in which my bedroom walls have been, well, demolished, there was a leak from an upstairs heating pipe to the living room ceiling, and my wife was hitting the road for a few days at a conference for her job.

I bet it won't be as much fun.

The value of being nice to your fans

    I had the good fortune to spend last weekend in Florida visiting with a couple of old college friends and their spouses.  Serendipitiously, Livingston Taylor, one of my favorite performers, happened to be appearing in the vicinity of where we were staying.  What made the circumstances so special was that my friends and I had attended one of Livingston's early performances at a college campus (The George Washington University) back during the first semester of our sophomore year.  And here we were , after more than forty years, together again to see Livingston perform.

    My husnband and I have seen Livingston in concert quite a few times over the years so we knew that he would make himself avaiable to sign CDs and copies of his recently publlished guide for aspiring musicians, Stage Performance. As Livingston signed our items, we told him that the three of us were here after having first seen him perform at GWU back in 1970; Livingston seemed genuinely delighted by this information and asked us if we wanted to have our picture taken with him.  He also agreed to do a quick video promo for a reuinion that my friend's husband has been in the process of planning.

    
(I'm the tallest of the three women, directly to Livingston's left)

  

    Why am I mentioning this here?  Whether you are a performer, writer, professional athlete or other personality whose livelihood comes from the financial support of your fans, it's just common sense that you should be nice to those fans.   Granted, our photo-op with Livingston would not have been possible had he been performing in a much larger venue but there are  only a few performers and, sadly, even fewer authors who would be able to fill an arena.

Sorry I don't have more to say this week but since returning home from my weekend jaunt I've been busy playing catch up both at work and at home and free time has been at a premium.

   

 

Bad Girl

Marilyn Thiele

I used to believe that the reason I enjoy crime fiction had to do with a sense of “justice.” The clever detective finds the bad guys and punishment is delivered. The world is a safe place, because the evildoers are incarcerated, killed, or rendered ineffective in some other way.  Peace and security return to the community. Recently I’ve had to rethink this self-satisfied view of my reading pleasures. I’ve become enamored of a “bad girl” protagonist, and I want her to succeed -- and continue with her exploits. Her name is Crissa Stone, and she is featured in two novels by Wallace Stroby, last year’s Cold Shot to the Heart and the recently released Kings of Midnight.

Kings of Midnight opens with Crissa operating a front-end loader to steal an entire ATM machine. She maneuvers the heavy equipment to detach the bottom of the machine from its concrete foundation and then works it around until she can tilt it into the back of a pickup truck, to be driven to an isolated barn where she and two companions can remove the money. You go girl!  But Crissa is not just a “strong body with a weak mind.” She is the brains behind the heists she pulls. She learns of a target, puts together a crew to do the job, and plans very carefully. Her planning and decision not to get too greedy keep her out of prison. It turns out that this is not the first ATM job this crew has pulled, but she tells them this is the last; the cops will get onto their MO, and start staking out isolated ATMs loaded with money for weekends. It’s too dangerous now. Unfortunately, Crissa’s careful preparation is ruined in this case and others by partners who are greedy, or stupid, or less coldly calculating of the odds and consequences than she.

Crissa’s back story involves her lover and mentor, who is in prison in Texas. He is up for parole, and she has connections who tell her that enough money in the right pockets will grease the wheels for his release. In addition, she has a young daughter who lives with a cousin. The daughter has no idea that the cousin is not her mother. Crissa sends money for support and visits occasionally to view her child from a distance. The dream that makes her human is that she will make one last big score and be able to live a normal life with her man and her child.

So why is she so appealing? We know that she was a “bad girl” even in high school, while her cousin, now her daughter’s caretaker, was a “good girl.” She ran with a bad crowd and found bad men, but apparently she was not from a family of criminals. She hooks up with Wayne, the man now in prison, who teaches her to be a smart criminal and treats her well. But she still lives outside the law, and is an outcast in her family. As cold as she appears in her dealings with the business of stealing, she has a moral code and a heart. She has a friend, an elderly mobster now living in a nursing home at the Jersey shore, for whom she has real affection. He helps her when he can with his connections, those who live by the old code. He also tries to warn her when she is heading for trouble. She tries to avoid killing; when things go wrong on her jobs, despite the best planning, she regrets the deaths but is able to move on, doing what she has to do to distance and protect herself. When we see her alone, we are privy to the thoughts she has about wanting to get out of the life, while at the same time ensuring that no one with a grudge can come after her. She wants to live a normal life, and will do whatever she has to do get there. She doesn’t see any options other than a big score.

I’ve always believed that criminals were stupid, and eventually get caught because of their stupidity. Crissa is far from stupid. She has detailed plans, does her homework, and has backup plans which include alternate identities and money spread out in safe deposit boxes in various cities. Most of the errors that complicate her jobs are caused by others who are too greedy or short-tempered. At times she seems a little like a superwoman on the wrong side of the law, a talented, cold, calculating machine. Then she does something that reveals that she is human, either saving a partner at the risk of her own life or going after the really bad guys (those with no moral code). She makes mistake when she has to react without planning. The two sides of her character, the cold criminal and the feeling woman, and the internal conflict they generate, are what make her so real. Yet she is not the bad girl with a heart of gold; she is looking out for herself and her own. Part of her appeal is that she lets us enjoy the little bit of naughtiness that is in us while she takes the heat.

Wallace Stroby’s first two novels featured a state police officer in New Jersey. His third, Gone ‘Til November was also ostensibly about a law enforcement officer, a female sheriff’s deputy in Florida named Sara Cross. But the character who stood out to me in that book was her antagonist, a middle-aged enforcer named Morgan, sent by the New Jersey mob to find out what went wrong with their Florida drug deal. Morgan is suffering from a terminal illness, and I was disappointed to realize that he would not appear in future books. Stroby has a talent for turning criminals into sympathetic characters while showing us the dirty work they do. Instead of more Morgan, we have Crissa.  I was glad to read that there is another book about her in the works; I want more of her “jobs” and I want to know how she resolves her personal life – if she does.

In the interest of full disclosure, Wallace Stroby will be appearing at my book store on May 3. This event gave me the incentive to pull his most recent novels from the ever-growing pile of books I want to read. You can be sure the next one won’t make it to the pile; I’ll want to learn what Crissa is up to as soon as the book touches my hands. Others have written about Stroby’s compelling writing, crisp dialogue, and page-turning plotting. The kudos are all well-deserved. But it’s Crissa who will keep me coming back.  

The People in My Neighborhood: World Book Night

by Erin Mitchell

April 23 was World Book Night. In case you missed it, this was the night on which thousands of people in the US, Ireland and UK gave away millions of books. To strangers. For free. The idea is to find people who are reluctant or infrequent readers, and put a book in their hands that they’ll read, thereby encouraging them to read more.

When WBN happened last year in the UK, I hoped it would come to America. I was thrilled when it did, and I scampered right over and applied to be a giver. My first choice for giveaway book was Michael Connelly’s BLOOD WORK. I figured that because the author is a big name and lives locally—and because it’s a great book (horrible movie aside)—it would be the perfect title to give.

I was thrilled—like, let out a squeal thrilled—when I got the email that I’d been accepted as a giver and that I’d be giving my first-choice book.

In the weeks and months following that notification, it became obvious that the WBN America folks had slightly underestimated the size and scope of their undertaking. They had to coordinate getting the books printed (these were special WBN editions), having them delivered to pick-up points selected by givers, and coordinate getting the right info to the right people. This would not have been so tough if they were dealing with just, say, 5,000 pick-up points and givers, but 25,000? That’s an epic undertaking.

Thankfully, though, they persevered.

My pick-up point was a local Barnes & Noble. The thing is, it’s a college store, and I’d never actually set foot in it before. When I phoned, though, I had a lovely conversation with the store manager, which continued when I went to pick up my books. She’s someone I’ll keep in touch with. Score one for WBN.

When Monday morning arrived, the reality of being a giver hit me. I was going to have to give books to strangers. Which meant talking with them. Which is not my strong suit. I mean, I’m quite good in any kind of business setting, but just out in the world? Not so much. I hadn’t really thought this through. I wasn’t alone, though, and thankfully, found a bunch of Twitter friends who helped ease my anxiety. And my husband accepted being drafted into helping me.

As evening fell, we headed to the Greyhound station. I mean, anyone getting on a bus for a long period of time must want a good book to read, right? And let’s be honest: folks riding Greyhound probably don’t have a bunch of disposable income to be buying books. Turns out the local station is small, but there were five guys there. The dude behind the counter looked mighty skeptical when I started into my spiel, and I quickly realized I needed to specify that I was not from a religious organization. Once I did that, he accepted the book, and as I kept extolling its virtues, his attitude changed. He said, “Hey, I now I feel like I just got a free book!” “That’s because you did,” I told him. One other guy took a book gratefully, another reluctantly, and the remaining two turned me down cold.

Next stop, the local bus depot. Some people there were skeptical—like the woman who said she’s read the book if I also gave her $1 (I did)—but others were thrilled, like the young woman who took out her earbuds to talk with me and the gentleman who was almost finished with the battered Grisham paperback in his hand.

On a roll, we proceeded to Williams Park, the local hangout of St. Petersburg’s homeless population. Our logic was that these folks couldn’t readily afford books and therefore might not have read one in a while. We were mostly right; the first guy asked who he could thank and whether there was a toll-free number he could call to “give kudos.” As we walked away, he called after us, “Now I can be a reader again!” We did get a couple of fuck-offs, had to explain to each person that we weren’t handing out religious tracts, and three times had to admit that no, I’m not Michael Connelly and I didn’t write the book, but overall, the park was a success.

After a brief stop for some dinner, we headed back to the bus depot with the remaining books. We met a family (mom, older daughter, and toddler son) who were recently arrived from Haiti, and after I explained WBN to them en français, they were thrilled to have a book with which to practice reading in English. The quote of the night, though, came from the very last book recipient, a bus driver who looked completely exhausted and in no mood for a pitch of any sort. He listened to me, took a book, grunted as he examined the cover and said, “I used to read. It’s been years. Guess it’s time to take it up again.”

Yes, Mr. Driver. Yes, it is.

Work and play

Lynne Patrick

It’s been a more than usually interesting week. Last Thursday, the day Josh left London, I was there myself on a pleasure jaunt, though the timing was wrong and we didn’t get to meet. Which was a pity, as it would have made a lovely day even better, but maybe another year.

And now I’m just home from an arts festival at which I gave a talk and ran a murder mystery evening.

And that’s what’s on my mind at the moment. Festivals. Conventions. Events at which people with mutual interests gather. In particular, book festivals, which this one was, at least in part.

It was a small event: the first of its kind, and they have some work to do to make it grow, but nevertheless I met quite a few people who oiled the little grey cells and gave me food for thought.

These are some of those thoughts.

I’ve been to a few over the years. CrimeFest several times, the Harrogate Crime Festival two or three. Bouchercon just the once, and that, let me tell you, was one big experience. Several writers’ conferences too, where the writers were mostly unpublished and in search of advice on how to correct that situation.

At the other kind I met authors, listened to them speak, sometimes bought their books, sometimes didn’t. I made some good friends too. Mostly I tried to raise awareness of the books I was publishing; that, for me, was the point of being there.

But I’m not an author. So today’s question is, what purpose do festivals and conventions serve for authors?

At the one I’m just back from, two authors in particular made me think about this. One was new to it all, and kept apologizing for her inexperience – though her talk, to a dozen or so people, was fluent and entertaining, so there was no call for apologies.

When she fulfilled her advertised function, she had a lovely time simply chatting to people. It was probably the first time a group of strangers had told her, kept telling her, how much they enjoyed her book. There’s only one so far, and she was excited to find it on sale alongside much bigger names – and even more excited when people bought it and asked her to sign their copies.

So for her, a small festival was an ideal introduction to a world which will inevitably become more familiar as her career gains momentum. A huge morale-booster too; writing is a solitary occupation, and sometimes it’s important to be with people.

The second author was well-known: a headline act with a new book just out, so she was on the campaign trail to promote it. Her publicist came too, and their visit lasted little over twelve hours from arrival to departure. Her talk was fluent and entertaining as well, to about thirty people; afterwards she sold a handful of books, joined other speakers and volunteer organizers for dinner, then retired to her room, which, if it was anything like mine, was comfortable enough but not exactly four-star hotel standard. (The venue was a vast, old house with a lot of history and not very efficient heating.)
She left to catch a train before I was awake next morning, and I spoke to her only briefly, but I got a distinct sense that she was less than impressed. When I’ve encountered her at larger, well-established festivals, her audience has been in three figures and the accommodation rather more luxurious; maybe that had raised her expectations. I did hear tell of another author who had pulled out at the last minute; his previous experience led him to expect an audience of three hundred and a four-figure fee for his services, neither of which was available here.

Of course this was a British festival. Here the speakers earn a fee and often stay only as long as they need to do their thing. Festivals and conventions on the American model are slightly different; there, everyone, authors, fans, editors alike, pays to attend, and most people stay for the whole event. Which, if I’m honest, makes more sense to me; after all, authors are there to promote their books, and why should they be paid for doing exactly that? The same talk will do duty at a dozen events, so it’s not even as if a large amount of preparation is required. And there’s the social element; a lot of wine is consumed at book festivals. And the networking opportunities: I’ve seen useful relationships forged. It all feeds in to the career-building which is surely every author’s aim.

So are book festivals and events work, or play? What do authors expect from them? Any ideas?

London Report, part 2

Josh Getzler

So when last I wrote, I’d had two days at the London Book Fair, with another to go. And so I did, and it was terrific, and a wonderful experience. I feel like it’s a great idea for an agent—even one whose role is not to sell foreign rights—to go and take meetings in the International rights bullpen at Earl’s Court. Part of the reason is just because it’s a good idea to inhale the atmosphere—of camaraderie and commerce, professionals jacked up on caffeine extremely focused on meeting their schedules. It’s a bit like when I spent a few summers working on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. If you look from above, or on TV, it looks like chaos. But really it’s a bunch of collegial folks doing business.

So last week I said that I’d go through some of what I heard in London; what markets were wanting and hesitant to take; eager to see and backing off. Here goes (realizing that these are gross generalities, and others might have heard different):

1)      Europe’s economic struggles are clearly affecting its publishers. Spain and Eastern Europe in particular were very frank in saying that previous aggressive buying has been curtailed. I went with fifteen or so books at the front of my list; my Eastern European co-agent said that they could only see being successful with around three—two of which already had buzz and several other foreign sales; the third was Anne Tyler. With Spain it was somewhat less specific, and more sad smiles and “times are hard.”

2)      On the other hand, Brazil seems to be very healthy. Whether from not being in Europe or from having a large population with burgeoning readership, the word from Brazil was “lay it on us.”

3)       France is…unique. I have three British historical novels (my joke is that I’m looking for one novel set in every century—to date I’m good with the 11^th, 12^th, 16^th, 17^th, 19^th, 20^th and 21^st Centuries. So if you have a good thriller set around Edward III, I’m your man!). A French editor smiled, shrugged, and said “what else do you have?” She was very pleased, however, when I said that I thought the French Revolution could be the next Tudors, and was looking for a good novel set around the storming of the Bastille.

4)      Everyone wants a “tentpost thriller” with a Franchise protagonist. Yes, well…

5)      Nobody wants to see any more dystopian YA, particularly paranormal. Unless, of course, you know…it’s good. But that’s glib. It’s really that from the YA side, there’s a sense that we’re ready for a next trend, to come after the Hunger Games followers are exhausted, which came after the Twilight followers were exhausted. There was a bit of a sense it could simply be realistic fiction, a la John Green; or perhaps witches or angels or new shapeshifters. Zombies are finishing their cycle too, it would appear. The amazing thing, of course, is that it’s going to be the one incredible story, rather than any industry-wide desire for a trend, that will ultimately determine what will be the next Big Thing.

On Wednesday night, after the nice announcer lady kicked everyone out of Earl’s Court, I went to a pub and had my last supper in London, while I read a manuscript. While I was eating, I noticed that the pub was becoming more and more crowded, and the predominant color being worn by the locals was blue. I discovered that the Chelsea Football Club was playing a Champions League semifinals match against the powerful first-seeded Barcelona club, and the match was about to start. I almost stayed to watch, but knew it was going to become extremely crowded, and I was going to be leaving for the airport early the next morning. So I went back to my cupboard under the stairs, petted Scabbers, and watched while I packed. I’m a very big sports fan with a wide range of likes. I’d never watched a high-level soccer match of this type before, though. It was exhilarating. And Chelsea, which won 1-0, had precisely ONE shot on goal in 90 minutes. And I couldn’t take my eyes off it. This evening I saw on my friend Mark James’ Facebook page that Chelsea had—almost miraculously—defeated Barca again to advance to the finals. All I can say is Go Blues! And next time I’ll watch from the pub.  

 

Interview Answers, Self-promotion, and a Sappy Love Letter

Jeff Cohen

A couple of weeks ago, in a post about interviewing, I invited readers to post their own questions to me about interviewing, and promised to answer them. We got a few, and this is a good time to address them, so let's begin, shall we?

Robin Minnick asked: Okay, Jeff, you said you don't like to lob softball questions, and I agree, those are boring to answer. You've interviewed several celebrated people. What question, or perhaps type of question, do you consider the hardest for you to ask an interviewee? What question is either difficult to get past your lips or has you fretting about the answer in advance? 

Good question (or questions), Robin. I don't like to ask personal questions; when I pitch an interview to a publication, it is generally of a person whose work I admire and respect, and the interview will be about the work. When I interviewed Phoebe Snow, for example, I wanted to talk about music. The magazine I was writing for (which I ended up suing for other reasons) wanted me to ask about her life. I was not comfortable asking about her daughter, who was born with a severe brain injury, and when I started to say, "I wish I didn't have to ask this," the late Ms. Snow replied gently, "Just say, fine."

Cindy Smith asked: You say you don't like to ask the ho-hum typical questions when doing an interview, but do you have a favorite question that you always ask because you figure it will generate an interesting answer?

I've already sort of addressed this in comments to you, Cindy, but let me elaborate. No, I don't have one question I'll always ask, because I think the interview should be specific to the subject. I can't think of two people I'd interview whose questions would be exactly the same. But having said that, I do have a few that I'll ask of more than one person if I think it applies to their work. For example, I like to finish an interview by asking, "What do you know now that you wish you'd known then?" I've gotten some interesting answers, and if I could remember one, I'd tell it to you.

Elaine Charton asked: Is there anything you absolutely refuse to ask in an interview?

Again, Elaine, I try to stay away from personal questions, because I don't think they're relevant and I don't find them interesting. But when the publication that's paying me insists on some things being covered, I'll cover those things. I don't remember ever flat-out refusing to ask a question, but that's because I don't remember being asked to use a question I found absolutely inappropriate or offensive. 

After I mentioned that the favorite interview for which I was the subject was conducted by famed journalist Linda Ellerbee, Donald A. Coffin asked: What did she do that leads you to list her as the best interviewer you've encountered? Was it her prepared questions? Her ability to follow-up on your answers? Some combination of things that are difficult to disentangle?

First, I was flattered Linda accepted the invitation to conduct the interview. But I found her questions to be insightful, she had obviously read my books, which is a refreshing change of pace, and her questions were about process but were also fun and interesting to the reader. They were not so "inside baseball" that someone who wasn't a crime fiction writer wouldn't care. She had obviously put thought into the interview, and that was what made it a good experience. Another really good interviewer who talked to me was David Skibbins, a fellow author and life coach, and we did a half-hour telephone interview that was a ton of fun. 

Brenda asked: Is there anything on your bucket list that (a) your readers can't imagine that you'd care to share or (b) that you are anxious to share?

My bucket list? I'm not sure I have one, but one thing is to have a novel published outside the crime fiction category, just to see if I can. Working on that. Something my readers (both of them) can't imagine I'd care to share? Read on to the bottom of this post.

ROCCO asked: What made you decide to switch gears and go from a trilogy about a guy who ran a 'comedy-only' theatre to writing about a woman who owns a Jersey Shore home? Did your love of classic movies (ala TOPPER) figure into it, or were other factors involved?

Thanks for asking, Rocco. I was persuaded to "switch gears" when my publisher informed me that Elliot Freed's services at the comedy movie theater Comedy Tonight would no longer be desired, and then asked if I'd like to do something else, using a name other than the one on my birth certificate. I was glad they asked, and from that came the Haunted Guesthouse series, and yes, the TOPPER films and TV show were an inspiration. 

Any more questions? It's an easy post for me, and maybe a chance for you to hone your interview skills...?

 

P.S. I'll be at the Malice Domestic conference this coming weekend, and on the panel "Dirty Little Secrets: An Inside Look at the Writer’s Life” with Laura Bradford (Elizabeth Lynn Casey), Kate Gallison, Robin Hathaway and Toni L.P. Kelner. Sunday April 29 at 9:45. PLEASE drop on by, and if you see me roaming the halls, walk up and say hello--it's why we authors show up! (That, and the free tote bag.)

P.P.S. There is a woman out there (or in here, depending on how you look at it) who is among the most understanding and patient on the planet, who has inspired pretty much every novel I've ever written and maybe a few more things, who never fails to get my jokes, even if she doesn't find them funny all the time, and who once was in fact, an interview subject for this blog. And when Thursday comes around this week--the very day before I will hop into a car and drive to Bethesda for Malice Domestic--she and I will be married for exactly 25 years. I don't believe in miracles, but that comes close.

Happy anniversary, honey. Let's hope 25 years is just the warm-up.

Sophomore Slump

    I was a huge fan of Chevy Steven's debut novel, Still Missing, so it was with a great deal of anticipation that I checked out the audiobook of her recently published second novel, Never Knowing.      The premise of this book, while somewhat far fetched, still had the potential to be intriguing.   Sara Gallagher is a  thirty- something single mother in the process of planning her wedding to Evan, a guy who seems almost too good to be true.   Out of general curiosity as well as a desire for more information regarding her medical history,  Sara, an adoptee, hires a private detective to track down her birth mother; Sara subsequently learns that she was the product of a brutal rape by the notorious "camp site killer."    After information about Sara's identity as well as that of her birth mother is leaked on the Internet, presumably by the private detective looking to make a quick buck by selling this information, it is not too long before John,  Sara's serial killer dad, starts calling her and looking to arrange a face to face meeting  with his daughter and granddaughter.   The police become involved and the tension escalates  when Sara is encouraged to put herself in harm's way by arranging a meeting with John  as a way to help the police flush him out.  Inevitably,  Evan becomes jealous because of all the time and attention being lavished on Sara by a hunky police detective.

So what went wrong?

1.    Sara came across as whiny and annoying, even before she found out that her father was a serial killer.   I first blamed this on the audiobook's narrator but eventually  realized  that she was merely amplifying a quality in Sara that was put there by the author.   

2.    At one point in the story, Sara's adopted father calls for a mandatory "family meeting" for all three of his adult children and their spouses or significant others - everybody shows up and nobody seems to think that it is at all strange for a parent  to exert such extreme control over his adult children. 

3.    About a third of the way through, a  three word piece of dialog from John telegraphed to me how a pivotal scene was going to play out toward the end of the novel.   I'd like to think that my past year and a half of exploring crime fiction has made me a more perceptive reader, but I think  in this case it  was really just an example of sloppy writing.

4.    I thought that  Stevens' treatment of the  subject of adoption relied too heavily on cliche and stereotype.

5.    Has anyone ever calculated the odds of an individual encountering not one, but two psychopathic killers during the course of a few weeks?  Would the odds be different because the story was set in Canada rather than the U.S.?

6.    The major plot twist near the very end of the book required a very convoluted series of explanations that made my head hurt.

     A few words about the narrator:  Although Carrington MacDuffie did a virtuoso job of creating distinctions between the voices of the many characters, male and female, who populate this book, her portrayal of Sara sounded more like a petulant teen than an independent, self employed single mother.   MacDuffie also managed to make  Sara's young daughter  come across as not especially likable.

   Maybe  Steven's third novel should be called What Happened?

Shopaholic in Book Heaven

Marilyn Thiele

I’m writing this Friday evening after having spent the entire afternoon scanning through tables covered with books, and boxes of books beneath the tables. Our local Friends of the Library organization’s annual book sale is this weekend and it is my opportunity to fill in the holes in the collection of used books I offer for sale. Every year, it is both exhilarating and exhausting.

This event has grown every year since it began about ten years ago. Then, it was a small event under tents on the library lawn. It had to be moved to the National Guard Armory several years ago because the numbers of both books and shoppers overflowed the old space. This year there are well over 100,000 books for sale.

Because of the crowding, even in the expanded space, a few years ago the volunteers running the sale decided to add a preview sale on the Friday before the regular Saturday/Sunday sale. This addition had two benefits. It allowed additional fundraising for scholarships, as those attending the Preview Sale make a significant donation for the privilege of shopping without crowds; the sale is limited to sixty shoppers. Most of those shopping on Friday are book dealers, and the pressure of the “heavy shoppers” was removed from the regular sale days.

Here are some random thoughts generated in my exhilarated and exhausted brain:

1. The community support for an event like this makes me optimistic about the world. It seems at times our society is full of harried people rushing around trying to keep up with all they have to do. All of the books for sale are donated by the local community. Drop off days are scheduled on Saturdays in March. When one arrives with a trunk full of books, one waits behind other cars loaded similarly. The volunteers are cheerful, even in the cold and damp, greeting and thanking everyone, doing all the heavy lifting of unloading, and handing out tax receipts. Even those who are unable to volunteer for the event anticipate it. Since I am a big promoter of the sale, customers start asking early in the year if I know the sale dates and donation drop off dates. It’s truly an event for the entire county.

2. We have a lot of readers in this area. They take care of their books and pass them on as valued items to others rather than “throwaways.” They also attend the sale in high numbers, necessitating shuttle buses to satellite  parking. A reading community is a thinking community. The value that the community puts on its library, evidenced by the donations, volunteer efforts, and participation in library programs is obvious.

3. The dedication of the volunteers, and their sheer numbers, is a testimony to the affection they all have for the library. From unloading cars to sorting books to restocking tables to checking customers out, these men and women are unfailingly cheerful and helpful. They even make recommendations to shoppers wondering what to buy, much as I do in my store. Any of them would be an asset as an employee. And they have a lot of fun.  As a book dealer, I am not allowed to volunteer, and I often regret it.

4. Book people are the nicest people. I already believe this from my retail experience; I have very few problem customers. Today, waiting for the sale to start, I chatted with book dealers I only see once a year at this event. They come from Pennsylvania, from Syracuse, from North Carolina, and who knows from where else. When we get inside, there is not a mad scramble to beat each other to the best books, but a cooperative effort. There are so many books that no one person can go through all of them. Someone brought me a few unusual mysteries she ran across. I set aside mint condition copies of books by authors whose work I am overstocked on for dealers I knew were looking for those books. We all had a good time; after all, we were surrounded by what we love most. Even when there was no preview sale and I had to deal with the Saturday morning crowds, everyone was polite. The number of people I had to work around and the number of times I said or heard “Excuse me” wore me out quickly, but I never encountered pushiness or rudeness. Walmart at midnight on Thanksgiving it is not!

5. Abundance is not always easy to deal with. I always go over my budget for this event; there are just too many good books. Space on the shelves is another issue, one I will deal with in the weeks to come. I have to remind myself that I am looking for what will sell, not necessarily what appeals to me, although I hope that they are the same most of the time. Of course, I slip in several books for my own “reading pile.” You can never have too many books.

6. This sale gives me a picture of the local market. I already know from my new book sales that what is on the nationwide best seller lists is not necessarily what is selling best in my area. I was surprised, for example, at how much “inspirational fiction” was available; I would not have thought that it was so sought after in this largely secular, professional area. There is a separate section at the sale for “popular” authors, those who are at the top of the list the day their books are released. And they do sell a lot; but obviously from this event, these are not “keepers.” I generally do not carry these books in my new book section because they are so heavily discounted elsewhere, so I am impressed with the volume. Of course, the picture of the market for books is incomplete. The culled out books are donated, not the ones people want to read again or share with friends. It was announced in the local newspaper this week, in an article promoting the sale, that there was not even one copy of any of The Hunger Games trilogy donated. Maybe next year.

So, tired and happy, I realize how fortunate I am to be in a business that allows me to associate with the best people, be surrounded by an abundance of the objects I love, and help spread the written word. As I look at my ancient (1991), huge Oldsmobile station wagon, kept in service for occasions such as this, brimming with boxes of books, I know I will have sweet dreams of handling these books again as I unpack and shelve them. Who could ask for anything more?

 

 

 

 

Train to Storyland

by Erin Mitchell

I’ll freely admit that I’m a fan of gimmicks. When properly executed, gimmicks (or stunts) can connect you with new audiences (readers). The ever-brilliant Dana Kaye got me thinking again about gimmicks earlier this week in this post (please note that 'gimmick' is an odd word, and one I don't use with negative connotations).

Not long after I read Dana’s post, I learned about one of the most flawlessly designed and executed gimmick/stunts I’ve ever seen. In a nutshell:

Each year in mid-summer, Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival (link is to Facebook page because website is cranky as I type this, but click here to see if it’s working now) takes place in Harrogate, North Yorkshire, UK. Bunches of authors and passionate crime fiction readers descend on this small town to celebrate reading. Thing is, it is a small town, and as such, many of the people doing the descending will be doing so by train. One of the train lines that serves Harrogate is East Coast.

So how to combine readers, authors, a festival, and trains into a gimmick that works? Why, write a story on Twitter, of course!

Over the course of two days, Martyn Waites did an incredible job of editing the single lines submitted via Twitter into a heckuva story. Lines came from famous authors and readers alike. It was all coordinated through a branded @eastcoaststory Twitter account and supported by the @TheakstonsCrime account.

You can see the result here; best to read from the bottom up. You can also find East Coast’s page about it here.

So why was this such a brilliant gimmick?

First, it made sense. It was about telling a story, which connects directly with the audience for the Harrogate festival. It also involved a bunch of well-known authors who were clearly enjoying themselves.

But it was not random content nor hastily executed. Frankly, it could have been a mess, impossible for readers to (want to) follow, but with Martyn Waites’ exceptional editing and curation, it was flawless.

And last, there’s a prize involved in the endeavor (see the East Coast page above for details), but it wasn’t about the prize. It was about creating a short story, one line at a time.

Of Literary Expectations and Pretentious Metaphors About Construction

BENJAMIN LEROY

You know what I love? Books. Words. Stories. The pursuit of documenting the human experience—both fiction and non-fiction—by people who are brave enough to lay bare essential parts of who they are for public consumption. It isn’t a hobby of mine or a career path that I picked out of the classified ads. It’s a goddamn mission that I’ve felt compelled to follow since before I knew better. It isn’t about a paycheck or health insurance. It isn’t about “prestige” or “fame” or being a “gatekeeper.” If anything, it’s about kicking down the gate to make sure that the outliers and people on the fringes can not only have their voice heard, but their gospels pushed in the public square.

I am a zealot for words and stories. Not to put too fine a point on it, but they are sacred to me.

And I get my words from a lot of sources. Novels. Speeches. Religious texts. Memoirs. Protest songs. Love letters. I get immutable joy reading the stark poetry of box scores buried deep in the Sports section of the local paper.

My conviction isn’t to a job or an industry. It’s to the spread of words. So it took me by surprise a few months ago when I was at a writing conference and was asked if I was “scared” of the changes in publishing, especially as they relate to the indie author movement.

The answer, unequivocally, is no, I am not scared.

I offer no dismissive hand wave or condescending declaration of “Fools! All of them! What do they know?”

That’s not my bag.

If an author decides to self-publish (or any of the existing or forthcoming names given to the process like “go Indie” or “rebel style publishing” or “literary freedom fighter”), I’m good with it. Do your thing. But if you’re going to do your thing, I want you to promise me that you’ll do it right.

Because it’s only a button push away is not an excuse for disrespecting the legacy of the written word.

I’m not mad at people who opt to go around the old process. I don’t see them as the competition. My sleep is disrupted by plenty of things, but I’ve never woken up with a racing heart because anybody, anywhere has decided to self-publish a book. It isn’t money out of my pocket. And even if it was, even if every existing publishing company dried up tomorrow and I was left unemployed, I wouldn’t begrudge authors who opted to self-publish. There would be plenty of introspection and resulting evolution to follow, but I wouldn’t hold hate.

But I sure get pissed at people who create inferior products, make them available in the marketplace, and then cry when objective consumers find fault with the project. I’m removing the opinions of friends of the author, family of the author, and the ever present wannabe covert Literary Promotional Death Squads that spring up out of nowhere, squeeze off a few rounds from the Praise Gun, and attempt to suppress any negative conversation about a book. And, because I’m only focusing on words right now, I’ll eschew any discussion of cover design and formatting—two hugely important, not to be scrimped on details of what makes a book.

What you choose to write about is up to you. Present tense or past tense? First person or third person? Genre? Novel, novella, short story, flash fiction? All of those decisions are the writer’s. Based on their preferences, different readers will enjoy things differently. But a writer can always, in these matters, say this was my artistic choice, I was compelled to write like this.

Inconsistent head hopping? Typos? Random tense shifts? These things make Reader Bear weep and throw book across room. They are not artistic choices. They are the byproducts of sloppy work from people who know better or the unfortunately likely outcome of people who don’t.

Furthermore, Reader Bear doesn’t care if the writer hasn’t had the formal training of other writers or written ten previous novels, he isn’t reading books based on writer pedigree. He’s reading and judging books based on every other book he has read in his life. A writer’s ignorance of reader expectations isn’t a problem for anybody but the writer. This has nothing to do with LEGACY PUBLISHING STIFLED MY CREATIVITY~!

If you hired an Indie Contractor to build a house for you, and when Indie Contractor lifted the tarp off the thing there were nails and screws sticking out at 45 degree angles and the toilet was connected to the electrical system, you wouldn’t say, “Oh, cool, that’s your interpretation of how a house should be built.” You’d file a complaint. And you’d be right to do it.

Don’t mistake loose wires and uneven joists as a design choice. And don’t think those people who are familiar with how a house works because they have lived in one and visited a million others are going to accept shoddy work. Further, don’t mount the, Well, I was in another house built by ACME Builders and they had a crooked nail defense.

They shouldn’t have. Their negligence is not your opportunity to follow suit. And anyway, a crooked nail here or there, though unsightly and unprofessional is not the same as load bearing walls made solely from 1/8 inch sheet rock.

Writing and publishing—communicating your story to the world—is a practice and learned art. Because you’ve got a computer with a functioning keyboard and a word processing program makes you no more a writer than owning a 16 oz claw hammer and a pair of kneepads makes you a roofer.

If writing and publishing is new to you, I want you to know, I am not afraid of your brilliance. As a reader, I am also uninterested in excuses and unforgiving of sloppy work. Too many people have come before, holy work in hand, to show me the power of what can be done with words. It is what I’ve come to expect.

 

Need tips? There are all kinds of resources on the internet. One of your first steps might be over to Chuck Wendig and his blog Terrible Minds. He’s the kind of guy that asks the questions that will help you ask questions of yourself.

 

The real thing

Lynne Patrick

A friend called by a couple of days ago and happened to notice that the bookshelves which cover all the available wall space in our living room were bare.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘you’ve got rid of an awful lot of books!’

The strength of my reaction took me by surprise. I practically fell over myself in my haste to assure her that we haven’t actually culled a single one; they’re all packed away in boxes in my office at the end of the garden, in preparation for a refurbishment of our living space which will take place next week. It’s a little hard to paint behind bookshelves with the books, or even the shelves, still in situ.

The incident gave rise to two trains of thought. No, one of them wasn’t maybe it’s time I bought a Kindle. That day is still so far in the future that I can’t even see the horizon it’s over. But Kindles were part of the first one. It’s this: what’s going to happen to real books when even diehards like me have succumbed to machine reading?

Marilyn’s recent posts about the best way to handle and care for your books is part of this too. I do handle my books with great care, the many battered paperbacks as much as the handful of beautifully produced hardcovers. Hardbacks have been in decline for quite some time, but perhaps ten, or twenty, or a hundred years hence, the battered paperback will be the obsolete item, and hardbacks will have staged a revival as precious artifacts to be cherished, dusted regularly, handled gently and put on display like exquisite ornaments.

The second train of thought was a little more complex, and concerns not real books but real manuscripts. I’m old enough to remember the days when writers produced their work on typewriters. Publishers’ guidelines used to ask for typescripts, and, at least when I was setting out, mostly refused to accept handwritten work – though of course it wasn’t so very much earlier that pen and ink was the only option. These days the guidelines don’t even bother to mention handwritten manuscripts, and anything that isn’t produced on a computer is likely to get cursory attention; in fact, to a greater and greater extent, anything that isn’t submitted electronically meets the same fate, even though editors I used to meet always said they preferred to sit in an armchair with a pile of pages, rather than try to read 80,000 words on-screen. I suppose now they just load the electronic manuscript on to their Kindle.

The point I’m arriving at via a somewhat longwinded route is this: in the days of typewritten manuscripts, the ‘fair copy’ had a value. When making a relatively small amendment could mean retyping a large chunk of the finished work, if not the entire thing, writers took a lot of care to get it as near right as possible before sending it to seek its fortune. When the work is stored on a hard disk, and it’s possible to make major changes which can be reprinted at the touch of a key, the editing process can go on indefinitely.

Today’s question is, does this make us better writers, or just more picky ones?

And what are the implications for the future? Museums and universities keep archives of real manuscripts: typewritten or handwritten pages of work in progress, festooned with margin notes, crossings-out and amendments, dating back hundreds of years. Unless today’s writers of note are saving multiple drafts of their work for posterity, in a format that new generations of computers will be able to access, the days of these archives will soon be gone, and the process these writers went through to arrive at the magnum opus will no longer be available for study.

Would that be a sad thing, or just an inevitable consequence of technological progress?

All Fair

Josh Getzler

Greetings from Cozy Single Room 17 of the London Lodge, otherwise known as the Cupboard Under the Stairs (Where's Hedwig?).

I'm here for the London Book Fair, having arrived Monday morning off the red-eye and leaving Thursday noon. So it's 2 1/2 days full of meetings, followed by beers and the occasional curry. Ive always said that, other than New York, the city I could most easily move to would be Rome. But after visiting with the family this summer and returning now, there really is no contest. I've taken to London--rain, expense, tiny hotel rooms and all--and...well, I guess I'll have to go to Rome soon to compare...

OK, so how is this Fair different from all other Fairs (sorry, Passover hangover)? Well, let me start by saying that my comparisons are the BEA in New York, writers conferences both regional and national, and professional baseball winter meetings from my other life. I've not yet been to Frankfurt or Bologna, which my sense is this most closely resembles. But from my experience, this is actually closest in atmosphere to a baseball winter meeting.

The first thing is that this doesn't at all resemble any writers conference, most notably because there simply aren't many authors visible. This is a working conference for publishing professionals--publishers, agents, international rights managers and reps, suppliers and other vendors. It's incredibly commercial--it's a trade show, where the product (sorry authors for using the word!) is books. In that respect, there are similarities to BEA--big convention center, with booths for all the publishers. But in New York, there's a real sense of the presence of writers, and also of the Public. Librarians, booksellers, and fans buy tickets and travel the floor, picking up ARC's (though fewer and fewer each year) and seeing what the publishers have to offer. Here everyone seems to be associated with a house, an agency or a supplier.

Another difference between this and every other conference I've attended is that I am constantly hearing other languages--moreso than at BEA. Of course, this is the first time I've attended a conference where I'm specifically selling translation rights. But the International Rights Center is very large and well-populated, and in any five square foot area I'm as likely to hear Chinese or German or Dutch, French, or Spanish. Today, for example, I met with (consecutively) a German publisher, our Italian co-agent, a Brazilian publisher, a foreign literary scout, a British editorial director, our British co-agents, an American editor and his British counterpart, our German co-agents, and another British editor. Yesterday I met with French agents, Korean agents, and had drinks with a bunch of film folks. Tomorrow is six more, plus an author schlepping in from Manchester for coffee.

I'm beat, but also exhilarated. The people have been simply wonderful--smart, productive, all excited to talk books. I've been pitching and re-pitching, seeing what's getting nods and what blank stares. I'll go through that analysis next week, when I've had the chance to recover and really consider what I've been hearing. And yes, there's lots of talk about ebook pricing and distribution, and belt-tightening etc that we always hear and complain about. And of course folks who've been to a bunch of these fairs say that it feels, you know, DIFFERENT from the good old days. But that's not the way I see it--and not simply because I am, as ever, looking for good things. It's because there IS a sense that books can sell--whether because of or despite the growth of e-publishing. Publishers are looking at opportunities to grow or expand lists to reflect and exploit this new reality. They are, among other things discussing launching e-original imprints (almost all the publishers are doing this, particularly for their genre fiction).

And the other reason I've been enjoying this trip so much is that it has given me a chance to meet people I've sometimes never even spoken with, but only communicated via email. There's a ton of two-cheek kissing and "so THERE you are" in the entrance to the rights center, and good-natured complaining about sore feet and inability to navigate the cavernous Earl's Court convention center.

I can't wait till tomorrow.

Female Dog. That's It.

Jeff Cohen

It absolutely cracks me up that (at least this week) ABC is airing a sitcom called "Don't Trust the B____ in Apt. 23." (That's the real name; I'm not censoring it.) I only saw a minute of the show, and it wasn't funny, but the title is hilarious.

Words have never offended me. I can't think of a word that's been used in my presence that, strictly based on its existence, has bothered me. I understand that other people consider certain words "bad," but I don't get that. George Carlin said, "There are no bad words. There are bad thoughts," but then, we can't get upset about what someone is thinking until they say it, and the words take the brunt of our displeasure.

Sure, I get that some people don't like to hear some words. They've been taught all their lives that these are offensive things, that the people who use them are trying to insult them, and that anyone who stoops to "such language" has run out of more sophisticated ways of expressing the thought involved.

I don't buy into that. There are words--chiefly ethnic slurs--that are considered acceptable within the group and violently incendiary outside of it. It's the same word. Context creates insult. In that case, it's the thought and not the word, isn't it?

When a neighbor of mine--long ago, before we moved to this town--took a look at my infant daughter in my arms and suggested that "she really has a Hebe face, doesn't she?", I wasn't offended by the word; I was horrified by the thought being expressed. And I asked him if he understood why there was, in fact, a For Sale sign in front of my house. He didn't. We left a few months later.

So the little TV show about the "B" in Apt. 23, I'll admit, simultaneously amuses and baffles me. Because I'll be damned if I can figure out how the expression "bitch" became a curse word.

It's a female dog. That's what the word means. And yet, say it out loud in front of many people, and they will look as if you've suggested they are of a sexual deviance so lurid and perverse that to identify oneself in such a way would be to have committed a crime against society. All you've done is compare a woman, presumably, to a female dog.

Try it with a man: "You dog, you." "He's a real hound." "He follows her around like a Golden Retriever." Where's the offense? It might not be the most complimentary term imaginable, but a vulgarity? Hardly. My dog doesn't mind when we call him a dog. Of course, he has no idea what the heck we're talking about, but even if he did, I don't think it would bother him much.

So what is the big deal with "bitch"? The fact that it's a female dog? That's it? Nobody seems to have a problem with it during the Westminster Dog Show every year.

Try calling a woman a "ewe," or a "doe," or a "filly." Probably not going to endear you to them, but it won't get your face slapped. It doesn't add up. "Bitch" isn't even a four-letter word, and we've clearly decided that is the requisite number of letters for a really offensive word. Call someone "reprehensible" or "contemptible," and nobody blinks. Why? Too many letters. (Also, there's a decent possibility they don't know what you mean.)

The same network has another show--which I have been assiduously avoiding in the sincere hope I will never have to spend a minute thinking about it--called "GCB." That used to stand for "Good Christian Bitches," which apparently was the title of the book upon which the series was based. And once again, ABC (perhaps noting that it already has the letter "B" in its name) chickened out and created an acronym that absolutely no one recognized. When the show was being promoted before its premiere, I assumed the letters stood for "George Carver Bridge," and that it was about a span named after the world's most famous peanut scientist.

We assign, sometimes, too much responsibility to individual words. Perhaps it's time to consider the thoughts behind them and let people--in the interest of free speech--use any word that fits the thought. Then we'll know what people really think.

Assuming that's something we actually want to know.

On becoming less of a purist as boundaries blur

        I trace my  purist tendencies back to my childhood.  Because our mother  loved musical comedy, my sister and I grew up knowing all the lsongs from the original cast LP recordings of  such favorites as My Fair Lady, The King and I, South Pacific,  West Side Story and Funny Girl along with  such less well known  Broadway chestnuts as I Do I Do and Milk and Honey (Molly Picon, anybody?).  Whenever any of these show were adapted for the movies  I would become indignant  over the fact that somebody had messed with them; songs were added, deleted or switched around from the order that I was familiar with from the original cast recordings.  I never once considered the movie version to be an improvement over the original production.  

       It should not come as a surprise, therefore, that I developed into  an adult who gets very cranky whenever a book I love gets made into a movie and becomes distorted in the process, all in the name of trying to attract more people to the box office.     Does this mean that the people who make movies consider the people who choose only to see the movie version somehow less inellectually capable than the people who choose to read the book?  If so, where does this  leave people  like me who want to read the book AND see the movie? 

    So what, you might ask, does this  digression back to my childhood have to do with matters pertaining to Dead Guy?

    In fact, these musings were prompted by my viewing this evening of the amazing last episode of season three of the FX television show Justified which is  based on Elmore Leonard's short story "Fire in the Hole."  Although season 1 didn't do all that much for me, I became a huge fan during season 2 and  while waiting for season 3 to commence, I happily jumped at the chance to listen to the audiobook version of Raylan, a newly released novel by Leonard which continues the story more or less where season 2 left off.

    But here is where things got tricky for me.  First off, although certain similarities existed between Raylon  and the goings on in Justified, not all of the characters were the same and the plot lines did not always follow the same paths.  Since I was reading Raylon at the same time that I was watch the first few episodes of Justified season 3  this caused me some degree of confusion and I did not like the feeling that I was simultaneously experiencing two different versions of what I had expected was going to be  the same story.   However, this problem more or less resolved itself; since it took me only a couple of weeks to listen to Raylan  while season 3 extended for 13 weeks, I   forgot many of the details that I had read in Raylan and was subsequently able to sit back and enjoy the rest of Justified without any problem.

      Like the chicken and the egg, I am not quite sure which came first in the minds of the creators: seasons 2 & 3 of Justified or Raylan.   Further complicating matters for me is the fact that  a persual of  the Justified Wikipedia entry indicates  that no fewer than 14 different people have been involved in the writing of the 39 episodes that have aired so far,  with no one person getting a credit for more than three episodes per season.  Because the show is so beautifully written and the episodes move so seamlessly from one to the next, I  can only  marvel at this.   It pretty much shatters whatever I had -previously thought about book adaptations.

    What I've gotten out of all of this is the realization that my preconceived notions aren't all that useful, at least not anymore.  If, as is the case with Justified, the final product is excellent, I don't care if it was written by one person or a team of multiple writers.  And if the outcome is excellent, it also no longer matters to me if the adaptation is an exact replica of the original story.

    Bottom line, I'm really looking forward to season 4 and will also at some point be checking out some more stuff by Elmore Leonard from the library.

 

Do You Still Care?

Marilyn Thiele

Last week I discussed caring for your books while they are actually being used. Caring for them when they are not in use is even more important. Properly stored and maintained books last a long time; careless storage leads to unwelcome donations to book sales or rejection by used book dealers, and ultimately to the trash bin. Here are some tips for long life (for your books).

BOOKMARKS

I have already emphasized the use of bookmarks and the avoidance of dog-earing pages or leaving a book open face down. Also to be avoided are paperclips, rubber bands, pencils or pens, newspaper clippings, flowers, or any other material that can harm the structure of the book or leave deposits on the pages. Even “sticky notes” leave a residue of glue on the page. Those fancy clip-on markers that are so often given as gifts to readers also damage pages. Archival paper bookmarks are available, but are not really necessary for short term use. A standard paper bookmark left for years in a book will leave a brown mark, so be sure to remove all bookmarks when you have finished with the book and place it on the shelf for future use; time flies, and it may be years before it is read again.

ON THE SHELF

Books should be stored upright on shelves, not packed too tightly, so they can be easily retrieved (by grasping at the center), but closely enough that they stay squarely upright and are supported by the other books or by bookends. If books lean at an angle, the spine and joints become deformed. If they are packed too tightly, mold and insects spread more quickly. Large, oversized books can be stacked horizontally, but only two or three high. The weight of upper books on bottom ones is damaging. Protective pads can be inserted between the horizontal books to prevent rubbing.

Books should be an inch or so from the front edge of the shelf, but not pushed all the way to the back. Air circulation is important to prevent condensation and the resulting mold and mildew. The area at the front of the shelf will show when dust is accumulating and any insect droppings that may signal an attack. (More on that later.)

Heat, light and moisture are the enemies of paper books. Those old-fashioned dark libraries with heavy drapes and shaded reading lights were not just a decorating phase. Sunlight is most damaging; fluorescent lighting also has high levels of UV light and should be avoided. Incandescent lighting is the least harmful, but all light eventually causes some damage. Lights in the “library” should be turned off whenever possible. Hot and dry conditions make paper brittle; dampness leads to mold. Books should not be kept near sources of heat (fireplaces or radiators), or along outside walls where the air may be cool and damp. When books are shelved in a place shared by people, a temperature of 70 degrees and humidity of 50% is best. Cooler and drier is even better if the books are not in a living space.

Books should be dusted regularly. Use a clean cloth or soft brush, and wipe away from the spine toward the front edge; dirt which gets inside the spine is there forever. Dusting time is an opportunity to check  for any mildew, brittleness, or bugs which would indicate a need for treatment and improved shelving conditions.

IN THE BOX

Most of us battle the ongoing “shelf space” problem. Before parting with beloved books, we make room for the new by putting away “temporarily” some of the old. “Temporarily” turns out to be much longer than we expect.  Even for truly temporary storage, the dangers of heat and damp need to be considered. In addition, places with extreme changes in temperature or humidity should be avoided. Attics, basements, garages and outdoor sheds are bad environments for books, in addition to being prone to leaks, flooding, and pests. When you find a safe location, place the cartons so that there is  at least four inches of space between the stored cartons and any walls, ceilings, or floors; boxes should be on wooden pallets.  

I cringed while researching this post when I saw a picture of books stored loosely upright in large, clear plastic tubs so that the happy owner could easily see the titles in each tub. One more proof that not everything you find on the Internet is useful! Plastic traps moisture; mold grows. Plastic also gives off gases which are harmful to paper. Books packed loosely flop around and get rubbed, chipped and bent.

Archival boxes made from alkaline corrugated cardboard are the best for storing books. Boxes should be small for two reasons. The bottom books in heavily packed cartons will be damaged from the weight on top of them. In addition, someone has to lift and carry those boxes. It took me only one move in my younger days to understand that books and large cartons are not a good combination. Books of similar size should be packed together. The front edge should not be facing down, as it will bend from bearing the weight of the book. I prefer to store books flat. If the carton is small, they will not be more than three deep.

MOVING

Packing books for moving is not very different from packing them for storage. Archival boxes are not necessary if you plan to finish unpacking in the near future. Books do tend to be put off as an unpacking chore; if this is likely to happen, the recommendations for storage apply. Since the carton is more likely to be physically moved several times and jostled in a vehicle, it is important to fill any empty spaces with packing material, preferably paper or cloth, to keep books from chipping. If “bubble wrap” is used, be sure you are going to unpack soon. Plastic – moisture – gases. You get it.

CRITTERS

The infamous “bookworm” is really the larva of beetles which eat the pages or glue in the bindings of books. It does not have to arrive in your library from an infested book; adult beetles come in through windows, basements or crawlspaces and lay eggs on the edges of the books or in crevices in the bookshelves. The larvae use the books for food. Keeping the books clean and dry is the best protection.

If you find small tunnels in the books or piles of “dust” under them, you have a problem. You may also see the worms themselves. There are various chemical treatments, but they are best handled by a professional. Remember that spraying any chemicals on a book can cause more damage.

If you check regularly, the problem may be isolated to one or only a few books. In this case, the book can be placed in a plastic “zip-lock” bag and put in the freezer for a week. It should be thoroughly cleaned before being returned to the shelf, and vigilance in the suspect area is critical.

Fortunately, actual bookworms are not very common. But cockroaches, silverfish and moth larvae do similar damage. Treatment is the same as for bookworms, although these pests may require wider treatment in your home. I have had a problem with silverfish, which like my bathrooms and kitchen as well as my books. I discovered something called “silverfish packs,” boric acid paste contained in a paper packet. Placing them in the back areas of bookshelves, under sinks, in closets, and (several) in every carton of books I store seems to have solved the problem inexpensively. They are available from the Miles Kimball catalog and on-line, and probably from other sources. Research tells me they work on other insects, but fortunately I have not had the opportunity to test this claim.

IS IT WORTH IT?

Even a booklover at times feels that proper care of books is a lot of effort, especially for volumes that may not have any lasting value. How do you decide what to keep and care for? I just read a column in the April 9 issue of Newsweek, a regular feature called “My Favorite Mistake,” this time by John Grisham. He discusses the herculean effort (selling cheaply, giving away to clients, donating, etc.) he put into disposing of the 5,000 volume first printing of A Time to Kill in 1989; it wasn’t selling, the publisher was bankrupt, and he needed the space in his law office. You never know.

Readers, Powerful and Otherwise

by Erin Mitchell

On April 4, the Pew Internet & American Life Project released their latest survey, which focuses on e-reading habits, but also contains this little nugget (as reported in the Huffington Post, emphasis added):

19% of respondents aged 16 and over said that they hadn't read a single book in any format, over the previous 12 months - the highest since such surveys on American reading habits began in 1978. If this figure is accurate, that means more than 50 million Americans don't read books at all.

Just let that sink in for a moment. 50. Million. Americans. Don’t. Read. Books. Not on paper or screen or stone tablet. Not anywhere.

Now, applying American literacy rates to this, we have to assume that some of these 50 million can’t read. Which is horrifying and shameful for the world’s most powerful country, but true nonetheless. Even so, this means that there is an enormous population within the great United States who have yet to find a story they’re interested in. Which means the market for your book—any book—is enormous.

Then on April 12, Publisher’s Weekly reported details of Book Expo America’s Consumer Day, aka, the effort on the part of organizers Reed Business Exhibitions to make more moolah. A cynical view? Perhaps, but here’s my issue (again, the emphasis is mine):

A maximum of one thousand consumers, wearing Power Readers badges, will be able to attend. They will be able to purchase tickets at local booksellers, the New York Public Library, and publishers.

Ok, so, first of all, these badges are available only to those who can afford them, which, by definition, gives them an air of elitism. Which runs contrary to the ethos of reading. I, as a reader, can access the exact same stories as any of the country’s bazillionaires. I pay the same price for a book as they do. Books aren’t gadgets, where the privileged have access to better ones than us regular folk.

And then…Power Readers? So, if I can’t afford a BEA badge, I’m less of a reader than someone who can?

But really, the point here is that shouldn’t BEA, as a publishing industry event, be as concerned with at least a few of those 50 million folks who don’t read as those who do? Wouldn’t it make more sense to create a part of a day where people who don’t read are specifically invited, with the goal of helping them discover a story they’ll love?

I get the idea of talking to the top of the pyramid in the hopes of influencing the masses at the foundation. But if I’m a publisher and I’m promoting my titles at BEA, and I’m wanting to tell Power Readers about them in the hopes those Powerful Ones will help me spread the word, surely it’s insulting and exclusive to ask them to pay for the privilege?

Publishers have shown some balls this week by standing up to the venerable Department of Justice. I respect them for it. I would respect them even more were they to say to Reed Business Exhibitions, “Hey, we understand that this is a business for you. But we want to reach readers—both those who are already avid and those who haven’t picked up a book for a year. So we’ll spring for the badges if you remove the word ‘Power’ from them.”

Just a thought.

 

The Sometimes Non-Verbal and Often Anecdotal Cues I Notice During Pitch Sessions

BENJAMIN LEROY

Writing conferences are always a good time. I’m fortunate to have conversations with brilliant, creative types all over the country. That’s the kind of thing that sustains me. Recharges my battery.

That isn’t meant to suggest that every conversation is a blue ribbon. As sure as I am that there will be something exciting, I’m almost as sure there will be a pitch or two that kinda bums me out or has me thinking about dinner plans before I’ve heard the title of the book. Are all of those pitches for bad authors or bad books? Not necessarily, many of them just aren’t good fits for Tyrus/me, and because the inside of my brain is a poorly constructed county fair, I am easily distracted by things off the Midway.

So, Mr. Barnum and Bailey, what DOES keep your attention? you might ask. Here are five things that keep my attention—they are, by and large, completely unscientific and subjective, but so are many other parts of this process. I guess it’s par for the course.

(1)    A bright and sometimes crazy glint in your eyes.

Sometimes I’ll be sitting at a table waiting for the next person who is going to pitch me, and in will come some guy or gal, wide eyed and engaged, ready to go, already going (I imagine there is a similar county fair blinking and ringing in their brain). They’ll hit me up with a genuine, “Well hello!” and not in a Dale Carnegie way, but in a full on “Damn, isn’t it amazing that we’re all alive and doing things and people read books, and we can talk about my book?” way. Not infrequently this person will pitch a book to me that sounds batshit crazy, but intriguing if done right. These people seem to be fascinated by the same kind of fringy cultures and oddball characters that I know and love. Most of the time I can tell the difference between “bright and crazy” (good) from “dude who is going to mail you a raccoon skull crazy” (bad).

(2)    I don’t feel like I’m dealing with Al Gorythm

Every now and then I run into people who think it best to test market their protagonists and plotlines before writing a book. “But, Ben!” you may protest, “It’s good to know what the hot trend is!” I’ll address that issue later. In this case, I’m talking about literally test marketing characters and plots with focus groups. During my publishing career, I’ve been told, on more than one occasion something like—“I’ve got a friend over at Cretty Bocker who let me throw in the first ten pages of my novel when they were doing blind taste tests of apple strudel. Strudel makers share 85% of recreational interests with the reader I’m writing for. 73% of the strudel tasters gave my book an 80-89% ranking. 47% said they would buy the book today if given an opportunity. That number increases to 54% if Cretty Bocker throws in a 10% off coupon towards future strudel purchases, and my guy over there said he’d talk to the VP of Special Promotions to see about making that happen! Do you want to buy my book? Do you like strudel?” I get that publishing is a business. I still cling to antiquated notions that writing is not. To that end, I don’t believe in calibrating to the point of market testing.

(3)    “This isn’t my first book written, it’s my first book pitched.”

Everybody has to start somewhere. When it comes to writing, that often means with a crappy first book that ends up in a locked drawer. There is no mark of shame in writing a not-yet-ready-for-prime-time first novel. It’s a rite of passage. It is an invaluable learning experience. And it is something to be celebrated. That said, it isn’t necessarily (or even likely) that it’s something to be published. Having the humility to know the truth about your book, is a big deal. You’ll note the fraternity and sorority of high fives and snickers that come when many successful authors talk about their first (and unseen) books. When I hear that an author is pitching his/her second or third written book to me, but that it’s still eligible to be a debut novel, I get butterflies. When that same author tells me that it’s the third or fourth DRAFT of that second or third BOOK, I’m even happier, because I know the author didn’t simply sprint to the finish line of some cross country trek, but took time to look around, stretch, examine the scenery, and contemplate what exactly is the finish line? Gold medal approach, writer. Gold medal.

(4)    When I ask, “Have your characters ever talked back to you?” You nod.

This is one of those questions that, if posed to the general public, would likely result in a bunch of deer in headlight stares. Sounds all illogical. You, the author, have created this story. You set the protagonist down on paper and you push him from Point A to Point B. You are an omnipotent God of literature. Right? Well, except for the crazy phenomenon when the Rebel Angel turns around and shakes his head and says, “But that’s not what I’d really do,” and then you, as OGL actually listen. Ever have a conversation with a person you’ve created from Make Believe Land? Ever feel like you’re not controlling both sides of the conversation? Good, take a seat. Let’s discuss.

(5)    Write the book in your gut, not the book you just read or the tv show you just watched.

I know I’ve beaten this point to death over the last six months, but I can’t stress it enough. For this guy right here, sitting on the other side of the table, I don’t want to hear about Archeologist Masons looking for a lost Picasso being held captive by teenage vampires in Washington. (I’m sure somebody somewhere just got a plot idea, but feel free not to pitch me). When your cop is an obvious mural of Sipowicz, Crockett, and Officer Poncherello named Lieutentant Jackhammer Strongchin, I am DIALED OUT OF THE CONVERSATION IMMEDIATELY AND MY PHONE LINES HAVE BEEN PERMANENTLY BURNED TO THE GROUND AND MY TELEGRAPH MACHINE GOT LOST IN THE MOVE. Derivatives were bad in the financial crisis. They are likewise as bad in writing fiction. But I’ve always been broke, so maybe that’s why I’ve never understood the need for either.

Anyway, there are five things for you today. Take them. Leave them. See you on the road. I'm probably already there.

 

The past is a foreign country

Lynne Patrick

For the past couple of weeks it’s been impossible to move, or at least to switch on the TV or open a newspaper, without coming face to face with the Titanic. (Quite possibly all the varieties of online information as well, but I prefer to sidestep them and keep TV and newspapers alive. Someone has to and it might as well be me...)

Titanic fever is rife because, of course, it’s a hundred years since the iceberg struck and history was made.

And by one of those strange quirks of happenstance, my current reading matter and TV viewing of choice have also used significant events from the past to hook the reader/viewer, though in both these cases the appeal is not so much to people with the romance of the Edwardian age in their souls, and rather more to those of a ‘certain age’, who actually remember the time in which the fiction is set.

All of which, in a convoluted way, has sent my thought processes off in the direction of history in fiction, and more to the point, where history ends and contemporary begins, and what we do about the grey area in the middle: two or three decades which don’t really qualify as either.

It’s a question I’ve faced on my own account several times recently, since I’ve had time to start a trawl through the boxfuls of old projects in my corner cupboard with a view to finding out if there was anything worth developing. Things I wrote ten or fifteen years ago were contemporary at the time; these days they hover around that grey area, certainly not historical in any meaningful sense because the story doesn’t turn on an event which was so significant that people still talk about it. The novel I finished in 2001, in which the in-story technology’s OK for the purpose, needed some adjustment to the ages certain characters were when certain key things happened in the past. I dealt with that, and I think it works. But the YA novel in which the kids didn’t possess a mobile phone between them, and had head-to-head conversations after school instead of heading straight for Facebook, went straight on the back burner.

So far it’s not an issue I’ve encountered wearing my editor’s hat, but I expect that’s because it’s been resolved further up the line, before the manuscript landed on my desk. I know it must happen because I faced it about once a month when I was publishing.
The covering letter would say something like: This novel is set in the early 1990s, because in those days policing was about catching criminals, not filling in forms. Or, more honestly, I decided on a North Yorkshire setting in the 1980s because it’s a time and place I’m familiar with.

My inner reaction to both (after I was done with Hey, young whippersnapper author, that’s my early middle age you’re consigning to the far past! for the first version) was Nobody said this writing business was easy; stop taking the lazy way out and do some proper research into the world as it is now. What I usually said in the rejection letter to the author was something like Most bookshops like to divide their fiction sections into Historical and Contemporary, and they have difficulty with anything that’s strictly speaking neither.

Sometimes there’s a point to it. Take the book and the TV drama I alluded to: both authors set out to explore the way the past impacts on the present, and how the reality of life here and now compares (and more often contrasts) with the dreams we built when we’re young. Which is absolutely fine: a valid use of the fairly recent past, with a well-drawn setting which really does evoke the time with plenty of appropriate details. And as long as the setting really is well-drawn and properly charts a period which in fifty years’ time really will count as historical, I don’t see a problem.

And of course the Titanic anniversary is a great opportunity for what British television does best of all: the big costume drama with lots of emotion and rattling of the class system cage.

But am I alone in being turned right off by fiction which is set in a badly defined time fifteen or twenty years ago, for no other reason than that’s when the author was young?

On vacation

Josh Getzler Greetings from the Holy City of Orlando, where I'm on vacation for the week. It's allowed me to detatch a little (though with iPad, iPhone and Kindle in tow, not TOO detatched)--I even had a chance to read The Hunger Games (which I liked and am looking forward to reading the rest) and my old friend Lindsay Faye's Gods of Gotham (which I'm halfway through and LOVING). Plus I've spent time with my gang at Disney and Universal Studios, with the pilgramage to Hogwarts set for Thursday (can I get a little chametz dispensation to try Butterbeer?). So more to come next week, when the dispatch will be from the LBF, which ought to be extremely interesting.

Questions, Questions... Questions?

Jeff Cohen

Another year I didn't make the American Library Association's list of Most Frequently Challenged Books (the ones the most people wanted to have removed from shelves). What does a guy have to do?

(Side note: To Kill A Mockingbird? Really?)

For the past 26 years (not long before it's 27!), I have been a freelance writer, and that has meant a lot of different things. I write mystery novels, occasionally I write non-mystery novels, I write non-fiction books, and then there's the day-to-day work: articles for magazines and newspapers.

Before freelancing, I wrote on staff for magazines, chiefly trade magazines, and before that, when dinosaurs ruled the earth, I was a newspaper reporter.

Even in college, writing for the student newspaper, I was finding the skills that I'd use for every job I had for the rest of my life, assuming I don't at some point take on a greeter's position at the local Walmart or decide to go to medical school very late in life. And while I did in fact discover that I was lousy at gathering news, I also realized--after a good number of years, which is typical of me--that I am actually a very good interviewer.

There's a craft to conducting a good interview. You can say what you want about the fawning style of James Lipton (known around my house as "the incredibly pretentious guy") on Inside the Actor's Studio, but the man knows his subjects and he asks good questions (except for that stupid survey at the end--"what's your favorite word"?). 

Knowing your subject if foremost. The better you familiarize yourself with the person being interviewed, the better the questions will be. But it's also important to read OTHER interviews the person has given, if for no other reason than avoiding the questions that have been asked a thousand times.

Interviewing is like writing a character--you have to get into the head of your subject and consider what it's like to be them. What thoughts do they have? What do they care about? What don't they care about? What is it about what they do (interviews are usually about work in some way) that makes it interesting? What must their concerns be? 

I'm good at coming up with questions the subject will find stimulating, which will elicit better answers. I don't do hard news interviews, so "gotcha" questions (like the infamous "what magazines do you read?") are not part of my style, but I'm not going to lob softballs the whole time. It's not that I consider the subject an adversary; it's that easy questions return easy--read "boring"--answers. My job is to make the interview fascinating.

I put a lot of work into an interview. I enjoy it. It's not the kind of thing I like to do on short notice (although I will; freelancers rarely turn down an assignment). Preparation is important, and so is thought. I want to consider questions ahead of time so that I don't get that feeling after the conversation is done that I missed the one subject that would have put the piece over the top. You don't always have the luxury of being able to call back with follow-ups.

Because I do take interviewing seriously, it's a major disappointment when I am, on rare occasions, interviewed by someone who doesn't. Radio spots especially can turn into snorefests because the host hasn't read the book, is reading your information off a press release, and is asking you all the same questions s/he asks every author who appears on the program. It's sloppy, it's unprofessional, and worst of all, it's dull. If I don't think I'm interesting, what's someone tuning in going to come away with?

I have, luckily, sometimes been interviewed by people who are good at it. This interview, for example, was clearly the work of someone who had read my book and really had a curiosity about process and inspiration. It was a joy to do. I wish I could say that about every one I've done--and I'm hardly a household name outside my own household, so I don't get interviewed that much--but unfortunately, I can't. There are too many who phone it in. Sometimes literally.

Some thoughts on interviews and being interviewed:

Best subjects I have interviewed:

Garry Marshall

Carl Reiner

Phoebe Snow 

Mel Blanc (he really did end with "th- th- th- th- that's all, folks!")

William Goldman

Gene Roddenberry

Carrie Fisher

All were gracious, listened to the questions, did things other than simply push the latest project, and answered what was asked.

Not great:

David Mamet

Budd Schulberg (mostly because he was hard to hear on the phone; not his fault)

Best perk:

Blanc did at least six voices during the interview;

Wally ("Famous") Amos sent muffins afterward.

Dream interview:

Mel Brooks

Ringo Starr

Steven Spielberg

Mel Brooks (I know I said him twice; that's what a dream it would be!)

Best interviewer who has interviewed me:

Linda Ellerbee

Dream interviewer: (People I most wish would interview me)

Jon Stewart (the best interviewer on television bar none)

Terry Gross

Leonard Lopate

Craig Ferguson

Janet Maslin

 

If you'd like to test your skills as an interviewer, let's play a game: Anyone who wants to ask me a question based on this post (or on writing, or anything else), put it in a comment below or email me. If enough people play along, I'll answer the questions and post them next week. If there aren't enough questions, I'll just post about something else. No harm, no foul.

Ask away! 

Happy Easter, a Ziesen Pesach, etc.

    I was wracking my brain trying to come up with something appropriate to write for this holiday season when I happened upon the following  from the Wikipedia posting for Easter:

    "In Norway, in addition to staying at mountain cabins and cross-country skiing in the mountains and painting eggs, a contemporary tradition is to read or watch murder mysteries at Easter. All the major television channels run crime and detective stories (such as Agatha Christie's Poirot), magazines print stories where the readers can try to figure out "Whodunnit", and new detective novels are scheduled for publishing before Easter. Even the milk cartons are altered for a couple of weeks. Each Easter a new short mystery story is printed on their sides. Stores and businesses close for five straight days at Easter, with the exception of grocery stores, which re-open for a single day on the Saturday before Easter Sunday."

      This is not a belated April Fool's Day joke, you can check Wikipedia yourself.  I'm curious to know how this custom got started.  Does anybody out there know?

        I usually prepare my blog posting three or four days before it appears but I've got a lot of my own holiday prep work to do now so I'm keeping this one short.  Wishing everyone a happy holiday!

Caring for Your Books Part One

Marilyn Thiele

After my words last week on mistreatment of books, Laura Lynn asked in a comment if I could write about the proper way to care for, store and move books. I thank her for a great suggestion. As there is quite a lot to be said on these topics, I am going to cover retrieving, opening, and turning pages in books today. Next week, I will have more to say on storage and moving (and even bookworms).

RETRIEVING A BOOK FROM THE SHELF

When book is removed from a shelf, it should not be “tugged” by the upper part of the spine. Instead, it should be grasped near the center, with fingers on one cover and thumb on the other, and pulled gently, straight from the shelf (don’t drag the bottom over the shelf edge). Pulling a book by the top of the spine damages the binding over time. If the books are packed too tightly to get one’s hand around the center, the next best method is to reach over the top of the book and pull gently from the far side, being careful not to bend pages in the process.

OPENING A NEW HARDCOVER BOOK

You have your new treasure from the book store, and want to get off to a good start in giving it a long and healthy life. The worst thing you can do (besides spilling coffee on it) is to open it at the center and fold it flat or backwards. If the spine doesn’t crack immediately, it will soon. Follow these steps to “condition” your book before reading.

1. Wash your hands.

2. Remove the book’s dust cover and set it aside.

3. Place the book’s spine on a flat surface, holding it closed with one hand.

4. Hold the closed pages of the book together and let the front and back covers drop open. If they do not go all the way to the flat surface, press them GENTLY until they are flat.

5. Starting at the front, take a small group of pages (1/4 inch or so) and fold them down on top of the front cover. Gently run your fingers down the inside of the open page near the spine to reinforce the bend.

6. Repeat #5 with a similar small group of pages from the back of the book.

7. Alternate this process front and back until you reach the center of the book and all the pages are folded down.

8. Carefully pick up the book, replace the dust jacket, and put it down flat on its side.

9. Enjoy!

This technique can be tried on softcover books, especially very thick ones, and will prevent deep creases from developing in the spine. Unfortunately, the quality of gluing on paperback books varies from excellent to virtually nonexistent, so be very gentle in attempting to “condition” them.

READING THE BOOK

Books are meant to be read held in your hands or resting on your lap. They should not be read completely open on a flat surface. If you must keep the book on a flat surface while reading, or for reference, support the covers with other books,  preferably, folded towels. If you, like me, often can only find time to read in bed, try to hold the book so it is not completely open, and rest it gently on the blanket. And try (I sometimes fail!) to get that bookmark in before your eyes close.

TURNING THE PAGES

When reading left to right, as most of us do, lift the upper corner of the right-hand page gently with a DRY finger. Slide all the fingers underneath the page down the entire length, with thumb on top. Turn the page completely over to the left and smooth it gently along the inside near the binding.

I have seen recommended techniques involving using the left thumb to reach over and pull the right page across. In addition to finding this method physically impossible with all but the tiniest paperback, I see it as an invitation to torn pages. Use your right hand.

MOST IMPORTANT

Enjoy the feel, smell and physical beauty of your book; then savor the experience the written word gives you.

What He Said

By Erin Mitchell

Ok, I admit it. I hunted high and low for a topic this week, but nothing--nothing--I could find compares with Jeff's post, which is  a life lesson as well as excellent marketing advice (as in, please know this stuff). So I'm using this particular soapbox to implore you to read and share it. Here's the link:

http://heydeadguy.typepad.com/heydeadguy/2012/04/eats-shoot-and-flunks.html

Thank you, and have a lovely holiday if you celebrate, and a spectacular weekend regardless.

Meteorology, mindbendin and author relations

Lynne Patrick

I’ll have to beg your indulgence this week, blog-followers. It’s possible bordering on likely that this post will veer between vaguely garbled and totally unintelligible. My brain is in a state of even more addledness than usual, for two reasons.

One, I woke up this morning to find the world outside my bedroom window covered in a disconcertingly thick layer of the nasty cold white stuff.

And two, I’ve been reading Jasper Fforde.

Snow. Not just a picturesque sugar-frosting, but inches of the damned stuff. What’s that about? It’s April, for goodness sake. Spring. Last week it felt almost like summer – clear blue sky, temperature in the high sixties, balmy breeze, trees covered in blossom. Now it’s leaden grey sky, temperature in the thirties, north wind with arctic knives in it, daffodils flattened under an icy blanket.

Fortunately it’s picked a week when there’s nowhere I have to go and I don’t have to take the car out, so I suppose it’s not all bad. I must have mentioned the many and huge advantages of an office twenty yards from my house; days like today are when I like it best.

But snow. In April. Just when we thought winter was in retreat and we could breathe easy for a few months. Is this the shape of vacation yet to come? We’re coming to the States in a few weeks, and I still haven’t forgotten the year we visited Colorado and crossed the Vail Pass the last week in May, through almost a foot of it – enough to bring the TV cameras out. This time we’re coming to the east coast, Niagara, New York State, maybe some of New England. Any thoughts on places to avoid for weather-related purposes in early June will be welcome.

As if that wasn’t enough to addle my brain, I’ve just finished the latest in Jasper Fforde’s hilarious and mindbending Thursday Next series. I kid you not, this series gets under your defences and leaves you wondering what’s real, what’s fictional, and what the hell the difference is anyway.

If you’ve read him, you’ll understand. If you haven’t, it’s impossible to explain what he does, except that he manipulates fiction in a way that shines a searing satirical light on fiction, reality and the nature of imagination and still manages to amuse, entertain and beguile. When he’s not making me laugh, he scares me a little; he’s one of those authors who leaves me wondering what arcane knowledge he’s party to which ordinary folk can’t access.

Before matters meteorological and Ffordian invaded my consciousness, today’s subject for discussion was going to be authors, and whether readers should, for their own comfort, steer clear of situations in which they might make the acquaintance of their favourites. It came up in conversation the other day, with friends who are almost as bookaholic as I am, and I wanted to float it for a wider audience. (Well, there were only two other people in the conversation, and I sometimes get as many as three comments on my post. That counts as a wider audience, doesn’t it?) So I’ll just touch on it briefly, and see if it provokes a reaction.

I’ve been to quite a few festivals, conventions and other book-related events over the years, and met quite a few authors as a result. A couple have become good friends, and I’m on ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ terms with several more. And I read their books. Not out of duty of friendship, but because they’re great books. I wonder, though, if I would have started to read their books without that initial impetus provided by meeting them and getting along with them.

And the other side of the coin: a couple of times I’ve met people whose books I’ve begun to read, found that they weren’t people I could get along with at all – and stopped reading them. (No, I’m not going to name names; I can’t afford the legal fees. But authors are people in all their infinite variety after all.)

So here’s my question. Maybe even two questions. Does acquaintance with the author affect the experience of reading the books? And should I allow acquaintance with the author to affect that experience? Or should the books stand on my bookshelves on their own merits?

That’s three questions, isn’t it? I said my brain was addled.

A Few Short Takes

Josh Getzler

Today's post is short after the last couple, because I am sitting with my wife and kids, watching the NCAA Women's Basketball championship game. The eight year-old, our future scrappy point guard, is in pretty much awe of Baylor's Brittney Griner, who's 6"8 and dunks (and is brilliant). If our Ita REALLY grows, she'll be a foot shorter. But she can ball, so watch out Title IX! I mean of course she first has to conquer the NYC Yeshiva League, but we're all pretty ambitious.

But I did want to mention that I had the opportunity late this afternoon for a real Holy Cow moment. An email came in as I was about to leave the office from Jen Besser, the editor of Geoff Rodkey's brilliant Chronicles of Egg: Deadweather and Sunrise. It had a wonderful subject line: HOORAY!. There was no message, only a link: http://rickriordan.blogspot.com/2012/04/deadweather-and-sunrise-avast-ye.html . Click the link and you'll know why my beer at Ear Inn taasted particularly good.

Next week I'll be blogging from Orlando, where the family will be having seder with Mickey, Donald, and Harry and Ron and Hermione. I wonder if Butterbeer is kosher for Passover...

10 Things College Students Don't Know About English

Jeff Cohen

For the past two weeks, I've been between terms at the teaching gig, which is an odd time. You get into a rhythm with these things, but you're glad to have the break after you get through all the grading at the end of the term. Which is, believe me, a trial.

I believe my students try very hard to write what they think I want them to write. They don't always write what THEY want to write, which really is what I want them to write. But these kids have been trained all their lives to go for the grade and that's what they're doing.

Which makes me wonder why they're taking a writing class if they have--not hostility, but a general indifference toward the English language. Tomorrow, I'll go into class and lay out the rules, and for the following nine weeks, will want to pull what's left of my hair out when they blatantly don't remember them.

So in anticipation of starting a new term on Tuesday, let me detail:

10 Things My (College) Students Don't Know About the English Language

1. Your means belonging to you; you're contracts the words "you are". As in: Your parents are spending $50,000 a year in tuition, so you're going to get this right.
2. You don't lay on the bed. A chicken will lay on the bed if you are foolish enough to put one there. You lie on the bed.
3. When you're in a car, you put your foot on the brake. If you don't do it fast enough, you might hit something and break it.
4. 4. When someone looks at you in a clandestine fashion, he peeks. If you catch him, your ire peaks.
5. 5. The only time you put an apostrophe in it's is when you're contracting the words "it is." It's is not a possessive. That's the only time you put in the apostrophe. No, really. It is.
6. Too means also or excessive. To doesn't mean that.
7. Someone shortening the word "honey" as a term of endearment says "hon." Attila was a "Hun." It's different.
8. Some people stare at stars. They are not starring; they're staring.
9. People don't walk down the isle to get married. They might fly to an isle on their honeymoon, but before they leave, they should go to the supermarket and visit the sunscreen aisle.
10. Unless you're in one of those driving education cars, you can't get into the drivers seat. Having more than one driver would be dangerous. Sit in the driver's seat. Unless you call shotgun.

Bonus: Not every freakin' word that ends in "s" gets an apostrophe, okay?

I'm sorry. I'll be okay by next week. And by then I'll meet the students who'll have to learn all the above THIS term.

Also: Passover starts on Friday, according to my extremely secular calendar. (This happens to coincide with my more fervently held religious holiday, the beginning of the New York Yankees baseball season.) If you're interested in the 45-minute PowerPoint seder (now in HD!), feel free to stop on by. But let me know you're coming, so we'll have enough macaroons.

Some more transatlantic thoughts.

    I'd like to continue the theme Lynne started in her Wednesday post regarding the  question of  whether or not a British author will be popular in the US and vice versa because  I recently picked up my library's copy of The Child Who, a legal thriller by British author Simon Lelic.  The story centers around the predicament of Leo Curtice, an attorney who has been given the impossible assignment of providing a legal defense for Daniel Blake, a twelve year old boy who has been accused of the  particularly brutal rape and murder of eleven year old Felicity Forbes.    As punishment for his willingness to take on such an unpopular cause, Leo is crucified in the print and broadcast media and Leo's teenaged daughter Ellie bears a disproportionate amount of the burden as she is physically harassed by her peers, given the cold shoulder by her teachers, and abandoned by her best friend.   It takes little time for the threats to Leo's family to escalate and it quickly becomes apparent to the reader, if not necessarily to Leo, that Ellie has become the target for someone who has taken it upon himself to avenge Felicity's death.     In spite of the fact that Leo's wife Megan pleads with him to drop the case for the sake of his family, Leo stubbornly refuses to do so for a couple of reasons.  Aside from the fact that Leo's boss considers this case to be an important step for Leo's career and the visibility of the law firm, Leo has diligently worked to  establish a rapport with his troubled client and has come to regard Daniel, the product of a very dysfunctional upbringing,  as a victim in his own right.  As things escalates, Leo's situation spirals completely out of control and the reader is taken through some particularly harrowing plot twists  as the details of the various crimes are finally revealed.  By story's end, I felt completely wrung out.

    The  reason why the experience of reading this book was so draining is that the  conflict at its center is one that  most people have probably thought about  at one time or another - how much would I be willing to defend a principal or otherwise stand up for what was right if it meant that by doing so, I would also  be putting members of my family in harm's way?    One of Lelic's accomplishments is to create Leo as an "everyman" who readers can easily identify with.   As he juggles the competing demands of his job, family life, and his desire to do the right thing, he makes the types of mistakes that any one of us might commit under  similar circumstances.     Although I generally don't recommend  mystery novels as being good choices for book discussion groups, the moral dilemma at the heart of The Child Who actually makes it an excellent exception to this rule.

         But that's not to say that I didn't have some problems.   One of the chapters toward the end of the novel was chronologically confusing and I wondered how this made it past the editors.   Additionally, the absence of cell phones in crucial situations plus a reference to the film in a journalist's camera made me wonder if perhaps this book was an earlier effort by the author that only recently found its way into print. 

        This brings me to Lynne's question about why some books (and authors) don't fare as well on the opposite side of the Atlantic.    For all our similarities, the cultures of Great Britain and the United States are different enough that descriptions of particular situations are sometimes just not going to ring true to readers on the other side of the pond.   I can also argue that even though I have lived almost my entire life in the New York metropolitan area, I have imbibed enough American popular culture over the years to have some understanding of how people behave in other parts of my country.   However, I have considerably less understanding of the nuances of British culture and its social hierarchies  so even though I am aware of the fact that journalism is much more of a blood sport in the UK than it is in the US, I found  the total absence of a  more reasoned  journalistic presence in The Child Who to be a little troubling; I also could not recognize whether or not the failures of the British legal and penal system as described in the book were completely accurate.    

        Lynne, your thoughts?