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

Odds and Ends

Marilyn Thiele

It’s been six months since I joined “Hey There’s a Dead Guy,” and as Jeff warned me up front, the hard part of blogging has been thinking of things to write about. Some weeks I have a topic I am enthused about and life is easy; others, I have to stretch my mind a bit. I took Jeff’s advice to jot down ideas as they occur, and now have a hefty (and messy) file of notes, magazine clippings, and indecipherable scrawls on receipts. There are several items which are interesting but don’t merit a full post.  It seems like a good day to clean the file and share some of these random tidbits. (Guess which kind of week it’s been!)

WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT?

Michael Popek is a used book dealer in Oneonta, New York. Like all of us in this business, he discovers “bookmarks” left behind, ranging from airline ticket stubs to pressed flowers. Last year, he published a book, Forgotten Bookmarks: A Bookseller’s Collection of Odd Things Lost Between the Pages, showcasing some of the curious items he has found. He has photographed the found objects with the books in which they were placed; the combination piques the reader’s curiosity about the previous book owners even more than do the markers alone. There is a package of unused cap gun caps in a copy of Tom Swift and His Rocket Ship; a ticket for the Indianapolis Motor Speedway from May 1954 tucked in copy of Thoreau’s Walden; and a venomous letter referring to the addressee as “a slime,” “a walking mass of ego,” and a “voyeur,” among other insults, tucked into a copy of While Waiting, a book on pregnancy.

My own finds have been less intriguing: bookmarks from bookstores all over the country, photos, postcards, a Popsicle stick, greeting cards, appointment cards from doctors, and just today an instruction card from British Telecom on how to pay cash for an overseas call (using MCI as one of the options). Perhaps because I deal in more contemporary books or because I have not been as clever at retaining and cataloging my finds, Popek’s compilation is much more fascinating than any I can offer. You can view some of his treasures on his blog www.forgottenbookmarks.com.

 It’s a bit sad to realize that the next generation may be deprived of this type of view into the lives of today’s readers; electronic communication has cut down on the number of handwritten letters and postcards, pictures are often not actually printed on paper, and “bookmark” has taken on a whole new meaning.

WRITERS ARE READERS TOO

We booksellers have our own form of voyeurism, and another book published last year is a treat for those of us who like to sneak peeks at other people’s book shelves. Unpacking My Library: Writers and Their Books, edited by Leah Price is a feast for the eyes, full of striking photographs of the personal libraries of thirteen writers, including Junot Diaz, Jonathan Lethem, Stephen Carter, Alison Bechdel, Claire Messud and James Wood. The pictures alone would make the book a worthwhile investment; Price also asks each author to list his or her top ten books, and interviews them in detail regarding their reading habits, way of organizing their books, and even the selection of shelving.

I’m not particularly a fan of Diaz’s books, but he won my heart. He has a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf next to his refrigerator. He only throws away books that are in such bad condition that they are no longer readable; he gives away what he no longer wants, sometimes to homeless people who resell them. James Wood, when asked if there were shelves beyond those that he allowed to be photographed said, “I have a separate bookcase for ‘unread books I want to read sometime soon.’ Of course, it’s enormous and dispiriting.” Most of us can empathize with that comment. He also comments on the frustration of lending books, having learned, as I did long ago, that if you want a friend to enjoy a book you like, give them a copy. If you lend it, you will never get it back.

Unpacking My Library is eye candy for the book lover.

LARRY MCMURTRY, BOOKSELLER

I’m always surprised to find out how few people know that Larry McMurtry is a used book dealer. His store, Booked Up Inc. in Archer City, Texas, consists of four buildings and about 400,000 books. It makes my 35,000 seem paltry. McMurtry was for a while the author of the “New Books” column in Harper’s Magazine, and in January of this year he reviewed One Click: Jeff Bezos and the Rise of Amazon.com. After a few kind words for Bezos as a “farsighted merchant whose company provides an excellent service” for which all readers should be grateful, he excoriates him for his “obvious irritation at the continued existence of the paperbound book.” He says Bezos thinks the traditional book has had its run, and it’s time to do away with it. “Then he will no longer be bothered with old-timey objects that have the temerity to flop open and cause one to lose one’s place.”

McMurtry goes on to discuss his own views on the future of the book, with which I heartily agree. Although the culture is shifting to e-books, McMurtry finds it possible that this will not go on forever. “It might be a bubble; history grinds slowly.” My own prediction, for what it’s worth, is that e-books will level out once the initial fascination with a new technology wanes. They will serve a useful function and be part of everyone’s reading agenda, but will not be the sole mode of reading. This week has brought a surge of business here, as people prepare for vacations. Typical comments have been: “I have a Kindle but I don’t want to take it on the beach (or boat or by the pool);” “I can’t read my IPAD in the sun;” and, my favorite, “I’m not sure what I want to read, so I just want to browse.” The bookseller from Texas not only has more books than I do, he writes better: “. . . Bezos shouldn’t be persuaded that our Gutenberg days are over, at least not from where I sit. One thing we offer that he can’t is serendipity, the thrill of the accidental find. Stirring the curiosity of readers is a vital part of bookselling; skimming a few strange pages is surely as important as making one click.”

I hope everyone has a safe and happy 4^th, with plenty of time to read.

 

All about Hashtags

by Erin Mitchell

Earlier this week I read an article about a report from a self-anointed group of Social Media Experts about hashtags on Twitter. I’m not giving you a link because I don’t like to share crappy content, but one of the points of their “report” was that on Twitter, using more hashtags is a super-duper means to get people to engage.

Um, no.

Yes, engagement, in all its many forms, is the point of social media. Whether it’s getting your readers to talk with you or share a review or click a link, we want others to interact with our Tweets. The thing is, #over #hashtagging #is #not #the #way #to #do #this.

First of all, understand that there are two kinds of hashtags:

Silly hashtags usually comprise a funny and relevant phrase. For example, I asked Twitter how many hashtags in one tweet is too many, and Rhian Davies, one of my favorite Tweeters said this:

@erinfaye Never too many as long as meaningful. Some people use for #emphasisofwords #likethis which is #justplainbloodystupid.

— Rhian Davies (@crimeficreader) June 28, 2012

And another great example from Chris C. Turner:

#idonotthinkthereisalimitbutthereprobablyisoneifyouthinkyouneedacomma @erinfaye: Curious: For you, how many hashtags in a tweet is too many?

— Chris C. Turner (@XopherFL) June 28, 2012

So what I’m saying below is not about silly hashtags. They’re fine. If you’re clever enough to think up good ones, have at it.

Real hashtags, though, have a specific purpose, namely: To create a live link within a tweet to tweets about a particular topic from different people.

And what are hashtags not? They’re not a means to emphasize something. They’re not a tool to imply endorsement.  

Because I’m a “read the manual” sort of gal, I checked what Twitter itself has to say about hashtags. Their help page is concise and well written, and covers all the important points, including a link to this page, which has interesting info, including some history on the use of hashtags.

One of the most common misunderstandings about hashtags is that without them, your tweet won’t show up in search results. This is not true. Case and point:

Not long after the Supreme Court ruling on the Affordable Care Act, I saw a reference to tweets from Real Red-Blooded Americans saying they were moving to Canada because they were so disgusted (yes, really). I did a search, and sure enough, there were the tweets, most of which has no hashtag at all. See, I just went to search.twitter.com, put “moving to Canada” in the search box, and presto!

So how do you know when to use a hashtag (or not)? Simple:

• Remember that a hashtag creates a live link. More than one link in a tweet can be annoying…more than two makes the tweet too messy to create any real engagement.  
• Most of the time (see exception below), if you’re the only one using a hashtag, you’re not doing anything meaningful…you’re just making yourself look like a desperate seller-type. This means that hashtagging your book or character title is not a super idea. 
• If your tweet includes a link to your book on Amazon, there’s no need, for the love of all that is holy, to include #kindle in said tweet (and in fact, I believe that this will drastically decrease the number of clicks on your Amazon link). 

If you’d like to see an example of a hashtag done right, check out #IndieThursday. This hashtag was created by Jenn Lawrence with the goal of celebrating independent bookstores. And sure enough, each week, all kinds of different folks share what they’ve bought in indie stores.

Hashtags have also been used recently to create and tell stories through Twitter, which is a super way to generate compelling, interactive content 140 characters at a time. Author Eric Van Lustbader, for example, has been telling a Jason Bourne story via Twitter, which you can read at #Bourne3. And the good folks who organize Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival (aka Harrogate) crowd-sourced a short story on Twitter, which was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

Now, if you follow crime fiction on Twitter, you know no post on hashtags would be complete without a nod to Jungle Red Writers. Do they use too many hashtags? Yeah, sure. Is it sometimes hard to find the link to their site amid the jungle of hashtags? Yep. But do we all forgive them their over-hashtagedness? Absolutely. Because they do it in good fun, and at this point, it’s kind of become part of their brand on Twitter. To wit:

Reds note to selves: #BeTheGoofy :) ...and WHATEVER Erin sez... RT @nelizadrew: @ToddARitter @erinfaye @junglereds I can agree with that.

— Jungle Red Writers (@junglereds) June 28, 2012

And with that, I'll thank you for reading this likely-too-long post. If you’ve gotten this far, let me leave you with one thought: Use hashtags sparingly—keep it to one per tweet.

 

Five Things About Bad Guys that Make Me Want to Punch Their Creators in the Face

BENJAMIN LEROY

 Last week’s attempt at a slightly inflammatory title and opening line seemed to go over well enough, so I’m back again this week, desperately clinging to the same formula. Even though this is all about bad guys and violence, I’m certainly not advocating socking somebody in your writers’ group because their writing doesn’t live up to the subjective literary code outlined below.

Quick digression using professional wrestling as a reference point.

In the parlance of the professional wrestling industry the phrase “to get heat” means that a bad guy gets booed. There are two kinds of heat relevant to this discussion. The first is the kind you want—you want the audience to “hate” the bad guy, salivating to see him get his comeuppance. The second kind is when the marketing department has shoved some wrestler down the audience’s collective throat, the wrestler’s personality doesn’t click with the audience, and when the crowd boos, it can be translated to something like, “Get the hell off my tv. You’re annoying and I’m going to turn the channel because you suck.”

We’re going to be talking about how to avoid the “Get the Hell off my TV” kind of heat.

As you’d probably guess, I read a lot of query letters, sample pages, and every now and again, full novels. I also have the good fortune of meeting writers at conferences all across the country. And, because I deal primarily in crime fiction, I see a lot of bad guys. If I were in a different field, the antagonist might be nature or something more abstract, but mine is the domain of black hatted, curly mustachioed, slightly accented villains. Here are some things I see too often that make me hate your villain.

Let’s go!

(1)    Evil Because He's Crazy Because He's Evil – Sometimes I’ll be sitting at a conference rapping with Author X and the conversation will turn to the novel he’s working on tentatively called Extreme Absolute Justice or something like that. Here’s a sample of how the conversation goes:

Author X: My protagonist, Everchance Purity, is an FBI agent trailing notorious serial killer, The Waxahachie Ax Hacker, when…

Me: The who?

Author X: The Waxahachie Ax Hacker.

Me: Why is he a serial killer?

Author X: Because he’s craaaazy!

Me: Why is he crazy?

Author X: Because he’s a serial killer…

This circular logic and the subsequent chase around the tree is much less thrilling to the audience than Author X thinks. I’m going to need a little bit more from the “what’s my motivation?” department. Also, I’ve met a bunch of straight up criminals in my life, but I’ve never met one yet that didn’t have some upside somewhere. Funny. Good storytellers. Artists. Can pluck a guitar some. Obviously these traits don’t excuse crimes, but they also indicate a little more depth. I want to see that in all bad guys.

(2)    All That for This? – Occasionally I’ll really be enjoying the cat/mouse between good guy and bad guy, trusting the author to layout character motivation, I’ll totally understand the protagonist and his struggle for survival. Who will win this battle of wills? But then it turns out the bad guy is going through all of this chase—at great cost to personal treasure and time—because of some totally ridiculous trigger. “You stole my girlfriend in high school, now I’ve spent $300,000 and risked a lifetime of prison to follow you around the world to blow up your ski chalet in Zurich!” Oh, Emo Villain, your broken heart could have done so much more.

(3)    Central Casting Called, They Want Their Cardboard Back – Four day stubble? Yup. Smoking a cigarette in a knit cap while leering from behind the wheel of a dented cargo van? Check. Say things like, “You’re all gonna pay, you meddling kids!” Sure thing, Scooby Doo. I understand that sometimes we use archetypal descriptions to help the reader along, but sometimes we get a smidge lazy. And if you’re going to be lazy with the writing, maybe I’m going to be lazy with the reading. Thankfully, the garbage man has a job to do, and the chain of laziness can be broken. Hooray!

(4)   Actually, I Won't Be Sad if He Stabs Your Protagonist in the Throat – This goes back to last week’s post about why I may or may not like the hero of a book. In this particular case, if Author X’s goal is to establish a dynamic of good v. evil and I find myself rooting for evil (and not just because I want to be a contrarian jerk) because he’s more sympathetic than your protagonist, we’ve got a problem, Houston. Plenty of books, especially the ones I like to read, have a whole lot of grey area when it comes to good and bad. In those cases I might find myself hoping the antagonist triumphs. But the author has more than likely gone into the project with a “nobody is perfect, we’re all varying degrees of flawed. This guy is the protagonist only because I’m writing from his POV” approach. Is your supposed to be bad guy becoming the anti-hero we cheer because he’s legit cooler than your protagonist? Was that your intention?

(5)   Pass Me the Mic, I Need the Last Word – There is a time for talk and a time for action. When your, presumably, greatest foe is at the end of a gun, the yakkety yak business is over. As there is likely little satisfaction in delivering a monologue to an audience that cannot provide a review (because, you know, they’re dead), really what the hell is the point of going on at great length about all of the clever and devious things you’ve done in your quest to vanquish him? Oh, there isn’t one? Right. So leave that scene out even if it turns out that your almost dead hero has risen, zombie Bruce Lee style, to kick out some justice before the soliloquy is finished. This is hubris.

Confession: I’m something of a deviant.

I’ve long been fascinated with historically infamous people. Musicians. Killers. Athletes. In fact, the very publishing company I run is named after one of Major League Baseball’s great boogeymen—Tyrus “Ty” Cobb. By most folks’ accounts, Cobb was a ball of rage prone to violence both on and off the field, including one fateful day when he ran into the crowd to beat the hell out of a heckler, stomping on the armless fellow with his cleats.

If that were the sum total of Cobb’s story, I’d be glad I wasn’t in the stands when he played and I don’t suppose I’d care too much one way or the other about him. But there are other layers to the Cobb story.

Perhaps most notably, Cobb’s mother killed his father, the only man whose respect and acceptance Cobb craved. The killing occurred weeks before Cobb would be called up to the Major Leagues to play professional baseball for the Detroit Tigers, and, as Cobb would later confess, he played his whole career with the ghost of his father on his heels, propelling him. There was never, for Cobb, a chance to gain the acceptance and approval he sought. All of the records set and the legendary feats ultimately didn’t mean enough. There is something hugely fascinating about a story like that to a degenerate like me.

Your bad guy can and should have depth.

Enough for me to love him. Enough for me to hate him. Enough for me to want him to stay on my tv.

 

For more ramblings about publishing and life visit my website Adventure 'til Death.

Before I go to...

I don’t get jetlag.
Correction. I’ve never had jetlag before this year.
My journeys across the Atlantic reached double figures some time ago if you count there and back again as two, and aside from a depressed appetite (no bad thing!) and a couple of very early nights at the beginning of each vacation and a twelve-hour zonk-out the first night home, I don’t seem to have reacted much at all to the time changes, even when they were the eight-hour variety.
But, perish the thought, I must be getting old. Or something. This year, a week after the return journey, if sleeping were an Olympic sport I’d be a gold medal hope. And the time change was only five hours.
I expect I’ll get over it. Meanwhile, on the subject of sleep, there’s this book. Before I Go To Sleep. S J Watson. You may have heard of it. It keeps winning awards; the latest nomination is for the McCavitys. And, oh yes, my daughter posted about it a couple of weeks ago while I was away.
Actually it was that same daughter who gave it to me. Like her, I wasn’t going to read it. I have an inbuilt resistance to books that win awards; when I’ve been persuaded to read them in the past, I’ve far too often found them, well, let’s say a tad on the pretentious side.
But Meriel and I often have similar tastes in books, and she’d actually paid out money for the copy in my birthday book mountain a few weeks ago. I decided to give it a whirl.
And I’m glad I did. For the most part I have to agree with Meriel’s up-sum: tight plot, well realized characters and writing to die for. I’d add good setting to that list. What more does a book need?
Anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for good writing, by which I mean the kind that’s so in tune with the subject matter that you hardly notice it’s there. This qualified.
But... You knew there was a but coming, didn’t you?
The thing is, I don’t understand why it’s been up for all those crime fiction awards, first here in the UK and now in the US. The Desmond Elliott Prize, OK – that’s for a first novel in any genre. The TV Book Club also doesn’t discriminate. But it’s also won five major crime fiction prizes and is nominated for two more which are yet to be announced.
Because for me it’s not a crime novel.
It’s not even a thriller, certainly not in the fast-paced, action-on-every-page style of thrillers I’ve been reading recently. And though it explores the workings of the human mind, I’m not even sure that it’s a psychological thriller. And the more I think about it, the more I’m moved to wonder whether the author intended it to be one.
I’m sure he’s delighted it’s won all the plaudits and is still clinging to the bestseller lists. I certainly would be in his shoes. But as I read it, with great absorption, in three or four sessions while I was on vacation earlier this month, I had a growing sense that I was reading quality literary fiction. Not the artsy kind that’s all clever ideas and look-at-me writing: the real quality kind, in which something actually happens and you can connect to the people it happens to and the writing is just plain good. I’ve read examples of both kinds recently (my tastes do sometimes veer outside the realm of the triumph of good over evil) and this book was quite definitely my kind – but still it came over as litfic, not mysteryfic.
This view even seems to be supported by evidence. S J Watson is quite proud of the book’s origins: he took a course in creative writing run by one of the UK’s foremost small-ish literary publishers. Think T S Eliot. William Golding. Gunter Grass. Kazuo Ishiguro. So I can’t help feeling he was steered, not unwillingly, towards the literary end of fiction rather than the less lofty genre side that we Dead Guy bloggers revel in.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying this matters. I still enjoyed the book, certainly don’t begrudge S J his very healthy sales figures. I wish the guy every success as he pursues his new career and shall be looking out for his next book.
I suppose what I am saying is something along these lines: when it comes to literary awards, crime and mystery fiction is cast as very much the poor relation. So what’s a literary novel doing winning crime and mystery prizes?

Shakespeare is All That

Josh Getzler

I just got back from seeing As You Like It at Shakespeare in the Park, and it’s almost midnight. So this is a placeholder until tomorrow morning, when I will talk about the importance of Shakespeare. Or perhaps Civility in Argument, since I have a bit to say about that too…we’ll see!

 

Hey TED! No, Over Here!

Jeff Cohen

I have a new impossible goal in life. I know, I've already posted here about how I'd like to meet Mel Brooks someday, and how I would desperately love to be interviewed on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. But this is a new, different, clearly unobtainable goal that I can obsess about for a while until something else I can't do comes along.

I want to be invited to give a TED Talk.

If you've already come across these lovely little chats, covering a broad range of viewpoints and subjects, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, hit the link and take in a few. I'll still be here when you get back. But be forewarned: The suckers are addictive as all get out.

Back so soon? Okay: TED stands for "Technology, Entertainment and Design," and was in fact not started by Ted Turner in an effort to get his name on yet another thing that would be cooler without his name on it. (Turner Classic Movies, or the Classic Movie Channel--I ask you?) the lectures, opinions, personal stories, and explanations delivered at the TED conferences and available for free at the TED website are thought-provoking, entertaining, some maddening and others soothing. Some encouraging, others outrageous. 

One thing I've noticed in delving into the TED archives online is that I absolutely love listening to smart people talk. These are not dry lectures delivered with pompous certainty in an effort to prove that the speaker is so much smarter than, let's say, you are. These are impassioned, creative attempts to persuade or inform on a subject that is always abolutely vital to the speaker's sensibility. I couldn't get through high school biology, but I can listen to Juan Enriquez speak on the possibility that our great-grandchildren will actually be a different species than we are and not only understand, but start to think it's not such a bad thing.

The audiences at TED talks always seem so smart and eager, exactly the kind of people to whom it is best to speak. They want you to be brilliant, and so you can be. 

Of course, there are a few significant roadblocks in the way of my personal quest to speak at TED. For one, nobody has ever heard of me. That's sort of a problem, but not an insurmountable one. Rajesh Rao and Carolyn Porco aren't exactly household names (although I'm sure they're extremely well known within their chosen fields), and yet there they are on the TED site. 

Another potential problem is the fact that I am, in fact, not brilliant. I'm good, don't get me wrong; I'm not a person without some intelligence. But brilliant? Standing out among geniuses? Talented beyond all reasonable expectations? Looking in the mirror objectively, probably not.

There are few ways around that particular obstacle. The people at TED are smart; they're going to know I'm not brilliant. In order to convince them of my suitability for their program, I'll need an ace in the hole, and I think I have one.

I can tell a good story.

Honestly, that's the one thing I've always been able to do. And TED talks, no matter how technical or persuasive, need a story to propel them. Beeban Kidron is an accomplished filmmaker, but in telling her tale of creating a chain of clubs exposing young people to different types of films they might not have seen, she keeps the audience entranced with her own narrative, carefully weaving in details of her family history with the story of creating the clubs for young people in Britain. I almost skipped her talk, and now I'm glad I didn't.

The last thing you need for sure is a good topic, a wish, something that fulfills the TED slogan of "ideas worth spreading." And this I have. I'll even share it with you. I'd like to talk about the necessity of comedy in our lives. The idea that however dismissed as lightweight entertainment and overlooked by those who decide what is and is not significant in the world of art, comedy is the most difficult to conquer, the least often mastered, and the most emotionally healing. Talk about a "good cry" all you like; a few minutes of helpless laughter--this is scientifically proven--actually make you healthier.

Having made some study of the subject, I could offer examples, clips, sound bites, and observations of my own. I could (given a little time) compile research backing up my claim that comedy is underappreciated and actually therapeutic. Sure, Reader's Digest might have made "laughter is the best medicine" an insipid cliche, but that doesn't make the thought behind it any less true.

I might even get a few laughs. Maybe cure a mild sinus headache. Stranger things have happened.

TED, for all its genius, has yet to explore this topic. And while I'm not a scientist, a psychologist, a celebrated comedian or a novelist on the short list for the National Book Award (or even the Bob Award, which I'm pretty sure hasn't been invented yet), I think I could talk fairly intelligently on the subject for eighteen minutes.

Don't you think?

Some thoughts on what makes a good book group book.

    Last week, Erin posted some thoughts about book  groups and asked for  feedback regarding what qualities  a book needs to possess to make it a good choice for a book group.  It's a topic I've spent a considerable amount of time thinking about over the years;  my library's book group will celebrate its tenth anniversary this August.  The group has met roughly every six weeks since August of 2002 and by the time our anniversary rolls around, its members will have shared 87 books with one another.  We're planning a big anniversary party for August and  hope to have another  celebration in December of 2013 when we reach the 100 book milestone.

    Before offering my opinion regarding what makes a book a good choice for a group discussion, it's probably a good idea to offer some background regarding the membership of our group and the rules that it operates by.   We've had as few as three people show up (our first meeting) or as many as 27 although we generally average between 12 and 15 per meeting.    Over time, membership in the group has shifted  as people  either lose interest, move away or pass away.   Fortunately, there are always new people showing up, some of whom enjoy the experience and keep coming back.  Demographically, our membership is mostly women over the age of  50 but there are also a couple of younger women and a handful of 50+ guys.     Having both male and female points of view definitely makes the discussion more lively and unpredictable.

    From the beginning, I made the decision that the group would not be a democracy, my philosophy being that if the members of the group expected me to  lead the discussion, that it was only fair that I should be able to choose the book that was going to be discussed.  The incentive for other members to take  turns leading the group is that whoever leads the session can pick the book that will be discussed and this strategy has worked to a certain extent.    Although a fair amount of pressure comes with  the responsibility of selecting the books that  the group reads, the fact  that I am invested in a particular book means that I will do a better job of leading that discussion.       I will sometimes choose a book that I have already read and am itching to share with the group, but most of the time I pick books that I haven't yet read but want to.   So what do I look for?

1.     If, at the conclusion of a novel, the main character's fate has not been clearly spelled out, it is inevitable that group will have multiple opinions regarding what the author intended as the character's fate.   There's nothing like a good, spirited argument to keep the discussion flowing.   Examples: Tulip Fever, by Deborah Moggach, Thieves of Manhattan, by Adam Langer

2.    Stories with  moral ambiguity at their center also have people taking sides and engaging in passionate discussion.  Examples: Tell Me a Riddle, by Tillie Olsen; Atonement, by Ian McEwan; The Story of a Marriage, by Andrew Sean Greer

3.    Books that are so beautifully written that everyone can't wait to share their favorite passages with the other members.  Examples: The World According to Garp, by John Irving; Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson; Three Junes, by Julia Glass; Winter's Bone, by Daniel Woodrell

4.    Required reading from high school that was remembered fondly and that we are looking  to revisit  with an adult's perspective.   Examples: The Great Gatsby,  Pride and Prejudice,  The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

5.    Classic titles that we read in high school but were too lacking in life experience to understand as teenagers.    Examples: Heart of Darkness; The Good Earth; Mrs. Dalloway

6.    Something thrown  in from left field.  For the session after we discussed Pride and Prejudice, I deliberately picked  Love Story, by Erich Segal so that the group could discuss the qualities that make one book an enduring classic and the other just another piece of pop culture detrius.

7.    Recommendations from people whose taste in books I trust.  Examples: Empire Falls, by Richard Russo; Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks; The Things They Carried,  by Tim O'Brien;The Human Stain, by Philip Roth; A Lesson Before Dying, by Ernest Gaines.

8.    Books that I  love so much that I wanted and excuse to read them again so that I could discuss them with the group.  Examples: Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer; The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth; Snow in August, by Pete Hamill, Little Children, by Tom Perrotta; The Clothes they Stood Up In, by Alan Bennett; Midwives, by Chris Bohjalian.

Next week: Book discussion pitfalls

Reading Season

Marilyn Thiele

The scorching heat in the Northeast this week made me realize that it’s time to slow down and think about “beach reads,” or alternatively, staying somewhere cool with a good book. The first half of this year has seen the publication of so much great crime fiction that I am tempted to lock the doors of my store and just read all summer. Unfortunately, summer is also the busiest time here, so if I want to keep the doors open for the rest of the year, I’ll have to content myself with making recommendations and enjoying what reading I can on the deck in the early morning (I love these early sunrises).

New Jersey is known for its 127 miles of beaches, so let’s start with two books set at the Jersey shore:

Old Haunts by E. J. Copperman (our own Jeff Cohen) features Alison Kirby, a single mom who owns a guesthouse in a fictional Jersey shore town. In addition to the paying guests, two ghosts are in residence, and in this entry in the Haunted Guesthouse series, they want Alison to investigate events from their pasts. In addition, Alison’s ex, “The Swine,” has re-entered her life, with questionable motivations. The characters are portrayed with Jeff’s trademark humor, and the plot will keep you guessing.

Fun House by Chris Grabenstein is the latest in his series featuring John Ceepak, a police officer in another fictional New Jersey shore town, Sea Haven. I had hoped to avoid any references to that dreadful television show depicting life at the Jersey shore as lived by persons not from New Jersey, but this book does a fine job of satirizing such “reality.” Ceepak and his wise-cracking partner Danny Boyle are tasked with keeping the hard-partying cast members of “Fun House” out of trouble, but one of them is murdered despite their best efforts. Humor, particularly the interaction between smart-mouth Boyle and straight-arrow Ceepak, and a high-speed plot combine for the perfect summer read. If you have middle grade children who are reluctant to read during the summer, the solution may be Grabenstein’s Haunted Mystery series, or Riley Mack and Other Known Troublemakers, an action/adventure tale appealing to that age group. Adult or child, you’ll love the wit and fast-moving action in all of these books.

Besides having so many miles of gorgeous beaches, New Jersey also has one of the finest newspapers in the country, the Newark Star-Ledger. Several crime fiction writers have also been on the staff of this paper, including Bartholomew Gill (Mark McGarrity), author of the Peter McGarr detective series set in Dublin. Two of my favorite authors have left the Star-Ledger for full-time fiction writing careers, and both have new books out this spring:

Wallace Stroby’s Kings of Midnight, his fifth novel and second featuring Crissa Stone, a career criminal, was published in April of this year. This novel is still my #1 pick for 2012; I’ll have to find something really spectacular in the second half of the year to change that view. I wrote about the Crissa Stone books at length here in April ("Bad Girl" April 28) so I resist the temptation to repeat myself and just say if you are a fan of noir crime fiction, here is your summer treat.

Brad Parks’ third entry in his series starring Carter Ross, a reporter for the Newark “Eagle-Examiner”, The Girl Next Door, was released in March. Parks draws on his own experience as Carter, assigned to write an obituary for a woman killed by a hit-and-run driver while delivering the Eagle-Examiner one morning, discovers that this death may not have been an accident. Vibrant characters who embody  traits so often found in northern New Jersey, Carter’s wit as he maintains his preppy demeanor while interacting with the less savory denizens of Newark, and a fast-paced plot make this book and its two predecessors top recommendations for enjoyable summer reading.

Moving away from New Jersey, two books set elsewhere infuse the ordinariness of daily life with extraordinary events, causing the reader to look around his or her own world for what may be lurking under the apparent calm. Neither of these books falls squarely in the crime fiction or spy thriller genre, but their exploration of family dynamics combined with uncertainty about the interpretation of events make them page-turners:

Defending Jacob by William Landay portrays a “typical” suburban family confronted with the possibility that the only child, Jacob, has killed a classmate. As ostracism from the community begins to take its toll, incidents from Jacob’s past and secrets from his father’s family are revealed. The father has lied to his wife about his parentage, and both parents have chosen to close their eyes to some of Jacob’s troubling behaviors. This book depicts the disintegration of a family while sustaining suspense for the reader, who weighs the evidence internally, trying to decide if Jacob is guilty. The ending is startling, but all too real for a family whose apparent normality has been breached.

The Expats by Chris Pavone explores disruption of family life in a more exotic setting. Kate Moore was happy to leave her undercover CIA work and move to Luxembourg when her husband took a job there. She discovers that the life of an expat wife is tedious: chores, lunch with the other ladies, occasional classes in cooking or tennis to fend off boredom. She becomes suspicious both of her husband’s activities and those of her fellow expats. Is there intrigue under the surface, or is her desire for some excitement causing her to be overly distrustful?

For lovers of Scandinavian crime fiction, I recommend Jo Nesbo’s Harry Hole novels, the most recent of which, The Leopard, was published in the U. S. late last year and which will be available in trade paperback at the end of this month. Lesser known, but possibly the next star for those who can’t get enough of the cold reaches, is Ake Edwardson, a Swedish novelist whose police detective Erik Winter travels to Scotland in the most recent offering, Sail of Stone.

For those who prefer the warmth of southern Europe, Donna Leon’s latest Inspector Brunetti  Venetian adventure, Beastly Things, was published in April. Inspector Salvo Montalbano, Andrea Camilleri’s sleuth who operates on the southern coast of Sicily, is back in The Age of Doubt.

Spring always brings an outpouring of new work from publishers targeting the vacation reading market. This year has brought a wealth of worthy crime fiction, and I have mentioned only a few examples based on my own reading. Enjoy the summer, and read, read, read!

 

 

Mid-Year Marketing Awards

by Erin Mitchell

Confession: I’ve always had a problem with “creative” marketing because too often, it sounds great when talking with like-minded folks, but ultimately, it doesn’t cause any sales. Which makes it marketing for marketing’s sake. Which is a waste of time, energy, and money.

I thought, therefore, that it might make sense to hand out some awards, five to be exact, to marketing tactics I’ve seen and/or participated in recently that are creative and smart.

So without further ado…drum-roll please…here are the winners:

Best Use of a Pet in Brand Building

Alafair Burke created the Duffer Awards last year in the run up to the release of LONG GONE. They were so successful that she did them again this year before the release of NEVER TELL. The Duffer Awards are brilliant because:

• They’re named after Alafair’s beloved French bulldog. The Duffer passed on to doggie heaven a few months back, and is remembered fondly by her readers because she shared him with us all. And people love pet stuff.
• They’re interactive, with each day’s matchup voted by readers.
• They involve other authors, some of whom embrace the competition to its fullest, and bring their readers along with them.

Best Means of Creating New Readers

Lisa Unger’s new book, HEARTBROKEN, comes out next Tuesday, June 26. Lisa is successful enough that she could sit on her tush in air conditioning all day watching the sales roll in, but no. She’ll be out meeting readers on the Clearwater Jolley Trolley, where she will give away hundreds of copies of her previous books. Lisa’s trolley ride is brilliant because:

• People on the Jolley Trolley tend to be on vacation, and everyone on vacation needs a great thriller to read.
• By giving away copies of her previous books, she introduces new readers to her stories—and her brand—which will drive sales of HEARTBROKEN.
• The Jolley Trolley appearance creates a perfect photo/video opportunity, so it has legs (especially online) beyond just the day itself.

Best Way to Get a Book Read by Reviewers and Influencers

Make no mistake: reviewers of every stripe get a ton of books to read. More than they could possibly hope to get through. So asking someone to pull a book out of the TBR stack and read it is a big ask. This week, I did just this on behalf of author Sara Blaedel’s new book ONLY ONE LIFE. Because ONLY ONE LIFE is set in Denmark, though, the letter asking for the read was accompanied by tea from A.C. Perchs, which happens to be Sara’s—and her protagonist, Louise Rick’s—favorite. Sending out hundreds of tea bags was brilliant because:

• In trying to make a book stand out, it’s something different. How many other tea mailings will these folks receive this year? None, I’ll bet.
• It makes sense. Reading and drinking a nice relaxing mug of tea go together well.
• It reinforces the brand, because Perchs isn’t available in your local Thrifty Nickel market over here.

Best Call to Action

When Crimespree magazine wants to encourage people to renew or subscribe, it calls in the big guns. Or, in this case, the Death Star. In addition to a giveaway of books, if they get 30 subscriptions/renewals by Monday night, Editor in Chief and Publisher Jon Jordan (aka Crimespree Jon) will get for the love of his life, Ruth (Mrs. Crimespree), her “Lego dream” Death Star. This is brilliant for so very many reasons, but the top three:

• It’s personal. With Crimespree, you’re not subscribing to some faceless corporate magazine. It’s the people behind the magazine, Jon and Ruth specifically, who make it a joy to read. And this incentive underscores exactly that.
• It begs to be shared. I saw this and immediately renewed. Then proceeded to tell everyone I’d done so. Because I want to be part of Ruth getting her Death Star, dammit!
• It’s asking people to do something they want to do anyhow. Not like they’re asking you to donate your kid’s left ear or anything.

Best Use of Reverse Psychology

Last year, I was happy to do what I could—which was just spreading the word, really—to help save the library in Troy, Michigan. On the ground in Troy, though, they did much more…and they won. Here’s the story:

 

This was a brilliant campaign because:

• It forced people to get off their butts and put their votes where their mouths are.
• It encouraged people to think about something in a new way. I’m guessing this is probably one of the only times a group of Americans has votes to increase taxes.
• It’s clever as all hell.

So there you have it. Smart creativity in action. If I’ve missed one—and I’m sure I have—would love to hear about it!

 

Five Reasons I Hate Your Protagonist

BENJAMIN LEROY

Ok, before we freak out at each other in a yelling match, I’m using the word “Your” in this case to sound inflammatory. It’s a crass attempt at causing controversy, reinforcing the whole “publishing gatekeepers are jerks” meme, and probably a little bit lazy of me. But really, you, whoever you are, you have created a stunning protagonist that does not fit any of these categories. Or, maybe a little bit of one, but certainly not enough for us to get all worked up into a fight.

 

(1)     Too Perfect Syndrome—you ever read about the dude who was a black belt in like six different martial arts, was a professional sniper, could crack a joke, bed a starlet, probably shoot scratch golf, and made restaurant quality waffles? That dude bores the living hell out of me. If your protagonist seems conveniently shiny and skilled, I don’t like him. I don’t believe him. It’s much easier for me to feel empathetic with flawed characters like me.

 

(2)     Anybody could jump that hurdle!—I recently read a submission that was well written, had me turning the pages at a good clip, excited to see just how bad things could get for our heroine. How hard would she fall before rising triumphantly to overcome the challenge? Well, as it turned out, it was like she mis-stepped off the curb, lost her balance, did that thing where you pretend to jog a few steps because you don’t want to look like a jackass, and then finished her walk to the finish line pretty much unscathed. I need to know your protagonist has been tested for me to cheer her on.

 

(3)     Frat Boy Wins Again—though this may sound similar to #1, it’s actually different. We see that Chaz Dollarstacks, the Ferrari driving, handsome son of business tycoon Wellington Dollarstacks is living up the night life. Maybe a little coke. Maybe a run in with a black hatted frat boy (likely turned backwards) on the golf course. At stake? A five million dollar antique lifted from somebody’s personal art collection. Fuck all of these dudes. I hope an Atomic RazorBomb makes the scene and they’re all cut off the map. This differs from #1, because we see that Chaz is flawed—he isn’t perfect—but because I don’t fetishize hanging out in VIP until 4 a.m. or playing polo in the Hamptons, I don’t really give a shit about the guy. Your mileage (and audience) may vary.

 

(4)     “Oh, this guy?”—Sometimes when a tv show or movie is really popular, you can watch a wave of what essentially amounts to fan fiction come in over the transom a few months later. Back when The Shield  was a weekly thing we got a submission at Bleak House about a rogue cop named something like Nick Slackey (that’s not it exactly, but it was something just as close) who didn’t play by the rules but always got his man (even if during the process he created more problems for himself). I want to believe that your protagonist is a singular character of your invention and not some irregular pulled from the assembly line. I only read about 20 pages of the Nick Slackey book, but I’m pretty sure if I would have finished it, there would have been a love letter to Shawn Ryan at the end that said, “Bro, whaddya think? You wanna adapt this for season six?”

 

(5)     Plywood and 2x4 Man—As I’ve already talked about way too many times on this blog, I like to travel. I love to meet new people in new places all over the country. I’m especially excited to hear new turns of phrases, new dialects, twisted pronunciations, and things like that. I grin like an absolute idiot when I hear particularly good ones. Language is so alive and vibrant. How you say things is sometimes just as important as what you are saying. So when your character sounds like my iPhone reading something back to me in ways that are grammatically correct but are absolutely without spark and are totally unrealistic as far as actual conversations go, I’m tuning out. Without spark, there is no fire. Without fire, I’m cold. When I’m cold I stop reading and look for shelter.

Am I missing any? Am I unfairly including some? Have you ever been guilty of any of these? Have you ever been guilty of anything?

Back at the typeface. Just.

There are times when I’m grateful for small things, like the five-hour time difference between the UK and the eastern side of the USA. This is one of those times. It’s past six pm UK time, but still early afternoon over there, so I’m not so very late with this week’s post. Though I don’t promise it will make a lot of sense.
This time yesterday I was on autopilot, emptying suitcases, making piles of grubby clothes, trying to remember where the freezer was, wondering if my brain would ever work again... Today after eleven hours’ sleep I’ve felt pretty much OK all day, but you should see the state of my in-box! My philosophy of life has always been everything has its price, and the price of two weeks’ vacation in one of the prettiest parts of the USA appears to be a small mountain of laundry and an awful lot of spam. I spent something like two hours just deleting the stuff this morning, and I’ve been filling and emptying the washing machine all day.
So my brain is still on go-slow,and this will therefore be short. The need to make sense aside, real life has kicked in with a vengeance, and all that laundry now has to be ironed...
First of all, a big public thank-you to my beautiful and brilliant daughter Meriel, whose posts are always a lot more interesting than mine. If the Dead Guy team ever decide they’ve had enough of me, they’ll know where to go for a substitute. I especially enjoyed the one about Before I Go To Sleep, which I see is nominated for yet another award. Coincidentally I was reading it at the time. So that’s next week’s post sorted... Thanks for that too, Mez.
I may have observed before that when I go on holiday, something always happens. One year Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. Another time Ronald Reagan died. I was in France when the world’s economy went into meltdown. Last year Paul Newman breathed his last.
This year the Queen had her diamond jubilee, which wasn’t exactly a disaster, and we knew about it before we left. We managed to miss every flag-wave, even on TV. Apparently it poured with rain most of the time, which was sad for all the street parties, but honestly, what did they expect? It was England, and June!
So this time no major disaster seems to have overtaken the world while I’ve been away, unless you count all that rain (yes, Paul Newman’s death was a major disaster!), but Ray Bradbury died at a ripe old age, so I suppose the jinx hasn’t quite lifted. Maybe next year.
Oh dear. This blog is about crime and mystery fiction, isn’t it? Not a lot about it so far. Sorry about that. Here goes.
Old Haunts by a certain E J Copperman is now on my to-read bookshelf. (Whaddya mean, why haven’t I read it? I only bought it on Monday!) Alongside it are a J D Robb three-stories-in-one, and a Lee Child I didn’t know existed. A browse in Barnes & Noble is an essential component of any visit to the USA.
And there I think I’d better call it a day. My brain thinks it’s four in the morning for some reason, and four in the morning only exists in other people’s imagination (or when my husband has eaten a bad clam – I suppose that could qualify as this year’s disaster).
I’ll try to be back in synch next week.

PS. The Ben and Jerry’s tour in Waterbury, Vermont, is great fun. The ice cream’s not bad either.

Required Reading

Josh Getzler

 

Next Tuesday, my wife and I are going to take our middle child to a large bus, where she is going to—somewhat regally—offer us her cheek, sling her knapsack over her shoulder, and leave us for seven weeks. Had we given her the opportunity, she would have gone to camp a month (or six) ago. She’s nine, almost ten, and both independent and quietly self-confident. She thinks she’s sixteen, which is fine in lots of ways. She’ll have a blast. She will occasionally brush her teeth, eat pretty much no protein, and will send us one or two non-informative postcards because otherwise she won’t get a care package.

There will be two books in the bottom of her pink-and-leopard duffle bag, which will represent her Required Reading for the summer before fifth grade. We received the list from which she could choose last week. There is little chance she will open either book. One of the reasons they will gather dust is because, well, she’s ten and would rather listen to the new One Direction album while talking about what jerks the boys are (or worse, how cute they are). The other reason is the list itself.

I’m really not here to bash their school or their librarian or administration for their choices. Other schools have similar, very good and meaningful books on their lists. But honestly, at the end of a day with swimming and dancing and basketball and gaga (I don’t know, it’s a game they all seem to play), is any ten year old going to say “Ooh, what I want to do now instead of braiding my bunk-mate’s hair is to sit quietly and read Sarah, Plain and Tall?” Or Sounder, or A Little Princess? And while there are A Wrinkle in Time and Bridge to Terabithia, even these are sort of Good For You good books, and BTT is SO sad.

And that’s what I keep seeing—sad, adult, Message books. All good for you. All good, in fact, when considering them objectively, and very worthy of their awards. But not always fun. And not the way to get kids to read during camp. And yes, she can do it after, when she gets home and is depressed and apprehensive about the start of school. And she may make her way through them in camp, if threatened with no care package if she doesn’t read one a week for the first two weeks. And she may even enjoy them despite herself. But it will feel like work, and it won’t be cool. And being cool is SO important. Last year I heard about the kids who were reading Harry Potter at night (even if it was for the third time) or Hunger Games (even though it was TOTALLY inappropriate for the age group). I’d LOVE to hear my daughter tell me that she was SO excited to read the next Rick Riordan or The Apothecary or, for that matter, Monster High. Because what I’m looking for—and what, to my mind her teachers ought to be looking for—is an excited, engaged, happy girl who WANTS to sit and read and learn.

And who will, eventually, become excited about and appreciate A Wrinkle in Time.

Postscript: As I look through the list again to check myself, I see The Lightning Thief on the list. So Percy gets to go to camp, and I suspect will be both read and passed around.

 

My Different Son

Jeff Cohen

With thanks to Susan Werner:

The first doctor told us that Josh, then just about two years old, was and always would be, "eccentric." I responded, not having filtered my words through my brain on their way out, that we were a middle class family and couldn't afford "eccentric." The best we could do was neurotic. He'd have to talk our son down. The guy responded with a look that indicated he'd found the genetic link he'd been seeking.

Later, we were informed that our son had auditory processing difficulties and couldn't figure out what was being said to him. Why that was supposed to have manifested itself in his biting other children was never really made clear.

At various intervals, experts told us that our son had anger issues, that he couldn't control impulses, that he needed behavioral therapy, that the problem was gluten in his diet, that he didn't actually want to have friends and my personal favorite, that we simply didn't know how to "discipline" our child.

When he was finally diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome at the age of six, we were beset upon by well-meaning neighbors and friends who would take our hands in their own, look as sympathetic as they could muster, and ask in hushed tones, "How is Josh?" When we'd respond that he was fine and ask how their children were, they would look disappointed or puzzled (or both), and add a more forceful urgency: "No. Really. How is he?" He was still fine.

I have been told that a few--not many--other parents preferred their children not come to our house because my son was "volatile." I have heard that some of the kids he went to school with (again, not a lot of them) would outwardly make fun on him because of self-stimming behaviors like hand-flapping, which he later learned to control. I have had it suggested to me that my son should perhaps not have been in "mainsream" classes, on the premise that being with other children was "holding him back." It was fairly easy to read between the lines on that one.

Well, the day before yesterday, that kid, who had to work harder than most and had to be taught things others pick up naturally, graduated from college with a degree in film and video. He completed his senior project, an ambitious 16-minute postapocalyptic drama called SCAVENGERS, and saw it shown before an audience who applauded it enthusiastically. He is now an alumnus of Drexel University in Philadelphia, a "mainstream" school.

Suck on that, naysayers.

Was it easy? It was not. From nursery school (he got kicked out of three) all the way through his days at Drexel, Josh had to do just a little bit more than most kids because there were things that wouldn't come naturally to him. To direct SCAVENGERS, he had to assemble and work with a crew of students and professionals, he had to see the props were built, costumes made, makeup designed and lighting, um, lighted. Sure, there were talented people responsible for those things, but the director oversees them all. Working in a group isn't always easy for Asperger's kids.  Josh got through it and made his movie.

As with many on the autism spectrum, test taking never really measured Josh's intelligence. He could be having an off day, or overthink the question, or misread a word to think it was something else in his haste, concerned that he'd overshoot the time limit of the test. Sometimes, he'd do remarkably well in a subject on one exam and then do poorly the next time a test was given for no discernible reason. 

But he never got a really bad grade in anything, and he has proudly received a diploma. His parents, his grandmother, his aunt and uncle, his cousin and his little sister, herself a rising junior at a major university, could not be prouder of him.

It hasn't been an easy ride, and there are no easy rides coming up (anybody in the film business looking for help? I know someone with a degree and talent who could use work). But Josh's natural humor, his determination and his Joshness, which can't be precisely described but is as real as the screen you're looking at, got him through it.

Here's to you, Joshua Cohen. Stay eccentric; we wouldn't have you any other way.

P.S. Congratulations to the winners of the audiobook contest: Jennifer Wenger won a copy of Damon Abdallah reading FOR WHOM THE MIVINVAN ROLLS, Sue Farrell won a copy of A FAREWELL TO LEGS and Mildred Whitehair won the audiobook AS DOG IS MY WITNESS. Enjoy the prizes, and thanks to everyone who entered!

One book, twenty-five authors

    If I had not been sidetracked by my interest in book trailers, the New Jersey Library Association's recent spring conference and other matters, I would have gotten to blog about No Rest for the Dead, much closer to the time I actually listened to this audiobook. 

    No Rest for the Deadis a  mystery novel composed by a group of authors, each of whom contributed one or more chapters, picking up where the previous author left off.  The inspiration for this particular book came from Andrew Gulli, managing editor of Strand Magazine, who had been looking for a project  to  raise money for cancer research.   Rather than producing just another anthology of short stories, Gulli persuaded a stellar lineup of writers to come on board: Lori Armstrong, Sandra Brown, Thomas Cook, Jeffery Deaver, Diana Gabaldon, Tess Gerritsen, Peter James, J.A. Jance, Faye Kellerman, Raymond Khoury, John Lescroatr, Jeff Lindsay, Gayle Lynds, Philip Margolin, Alexander McCall Smith, Michael Palmer, T. Jefferson Parker, Matthew Pearl, Kathy Reichs, Marcus Sakey, Jonathan Santlofer, Lisa Scottoline, R.L. Stine and Marcia Talley.    Since I'd previously read the works of only four of these authors (Jance, Kellerman, Reichs, and Scottoline), I figured this book would be a quick and easy way to introduce myself to a lot of other heavy hitters in the mystery genre.

       It was an extremely wise move on Gulli's part to let Jonathan Santlofer get the ball rolling; his introductory chapter forces the reader to bear witness in vivid detail  to the death  row execution of a woman we are made to understand is innocent of the crime - the brutal killing of her husband - for which she is being executed.    Witnessing her execution are several other characters, any one of whom could be the actual perpetrator.   Santlofer   describes  the horror of this state sanctioned killing of an innocent woman with language that is simultaneously brutal and lyrical; if I were not already opposed to capital punishment, this chapter alone would be enough to convince me of its evils.  It was also enough to put Santlofer on my "to read" list.

    As the book progressed, I had expected there to be more of a distinction between the voices of the different authors than what I perceived, possibly because the authors consciouslyor unconsciously tamped down their personal styles for the sake of a more unified whole.  Even so, it was no surprise that Kathy Reichs's two chapters were dominated by descriptions of autopsies and explanations of forensic details.    The only chapter in the book that  actively annoyed me was the one written by Tess Gerritsen; she managed to take a  smart and accomplished female character in her forties and transform her into a 1950s soap opera character bemoaning the fact that the aging process was robbing her of her good looks and somehow turning her into less of a woman.   Yecch.

    For all the cooks stirring this particular broth, the narrative progressed smoothly and there were no weak points in the logic of the plotting, making it an overall good read.  For the audiobook, different narrators were assigned to the different chapters, presumably to help emphasize for the listener the fact that each chapter was written by a different author.   I also imagine that readers who are familiar with the majority of these authors would recognize stylistic differences that, lacking knowledge of these authors, I did not.

           And let's just bring things full circle.  During my desultory research on the web regarding other books written by multiple authors, I stumbled on references to Naked Came the Stranger,  a novel that was published back in 1969 by one "Penelope Ashe."   It was later revealed that Ashe did not exist and that the novel was the brainchild of a Newsweek columnist named Mike McGrady who got some of his Newsweek colleagues to each sign on to write a chapter.   The point of McGrady''s exercise was to produce a poorly written book of lascivious content  in protest of the fact that poorly written pop fiction by authors like Jacqueline Susann and Harold Robbins were fixtures on the New York Times best sellers list.   The only problem with this strategy was  that Naked Came the Stranger became a best seller too, causing the collective team that was "Penelope Ashe" to feel guilty because of the easy money that was flowing in as the result of this project.

    I don't know if Mike McGrady is still around, but if he is, I'd really like to know what he thinks about 50 Shades of Grey.

    

 

Antisocial Reader

Marilyn Thiele

Over the last few weeks, I have seen several articles both in print and on-line discussing a phenomenon referred to as “social reading.” Being the technological resister (or ignoramus) that I am (no smart phone, no apps, no twitter), I at first took the phrase “social reading” to be a reference to book groups or some other form of face to face interaction. Silly me. I was soon enlightened; today “social” refers to communicating with others, many of whom you’ve never met, using certain on line services or “apps” dedicated to that purpose.

Social reading seems to occur in two major categories. There are places where one can comment on or review a book one has read, interacting through these comments with others and sharing insights and opinions.  These have been around for several years, and seem to me to be valuable especially to readers who for reasons of physical location or hectic schedules are unable to communicate their thoughts to other readers in person. Most book groups do not meet late at night, and many people are unable to find time during “normal” hours to reflect on their reading. Others dislike having to read books on a schedule or avoid groups for other reasons. For those unable or unwilling to belong to a book group, these on line forums provide an opportunity to share and learn.

With the advent of e-books, a new world of communication has opened for those wishing to share their thoughts, and, maybe, ponder the thoughts of others. This world is the one I find a bit frightening. One can now, while reading a book, view other readers’ highlighting, comments, likes or dislikes and can even see the amount of on line activity focused on a particular page. As a reader, I don’t want my thinking influenced that much as I read. I may choose to read a book based on recommendations or reviews, but while reading I want to react independently.  My own reactions are also subject to change as I progress through a book. I would not want my knee-jerk thoughts to go out to the world, only to be retracted three pages later as I see more of the author’s intent. I wonder how a person can really read while constantly being bombarded with other readers’ comments or while making comments oneself.  My notes to myself are to myself, usually to be tossed after finishing the book, unless there is a quote I love or something I would like to discuss with others later. 

One of the social skills we all learn (usually the hard way) is to engage the brain before putting the mouth in gear. Now, we need to remember to engage the brain before putting fingers to keyboards or keypads. It is too easy to shoot out a comment which will be preserved somewhere forever. I prefer telephone calls or in-person talks to e-mail whenever there is a topic of any sensitivity to be discussed; it is too easy, even for the best writers, to come across as unintentionally curt or nasty. The nuances of voice, facial expression, and the ability to immediately explain one’s thoughts are important to understanding between people. It takes too long to put all that in writing. A quickly typed “I can’t stand this character” may express feeling, but not the reasons why. Does he remind me of my childhood nemesis? Have a value system I deplore? Eat crackers in bed? Sometimes as readers we don’t understand our own emotional reactions while reading until we have time to reflect.

An experience this week is a perfect example of why my favorite form of “social reading” is the book group. One of the groups which meets at my store chose to read One Hundred Years of Solitude for our June selection. It was suggested by one member of the group who had read it several times and said it was one of her favorite books. I, and I think others, felt it was something we had always felt we should read. I expected it to be more difficult than the crime fiction I usually read, but if I had bleated out my thoughts at various points, they would have been: “Can’t this man write a paragraph less than three pages long?” “Why must all the characters have the same or similar names?” “These people are all nuts!” I finished the book, although I might not have without what I consider part of “social” interaction: keeping a commitment to others. I thought that the only good to come of it would be that I could honestly answer “Yes” when someone asked if I had read it. Many of us in the group see each other outside of meetings, and the general opinion was that either it was a terrible book or we were not intellectual enough to get it. The member who suggested the book had been on vacation, and we were anxious to hear her reasons for loving it. When we met, we asked her to explain her attraction to the book before we voiced our criticisms. She began by acknowledging all the “flaws” we saw, even saying that half the characters were “nuts.” She went on to say that she had read and reread it at different points in her life, always finding more to enjoy. She has spent a great deal of time in South America, and explained how the life depicted was typical. One example was the fortress mentality in homes, perhaps brought on by constant wars, revolutions, and exploitation by foreigners. More discussion of cultural differences ensued. By the end of the meeting, we all felt we had not wasted our time, and those few who had not finished the book decided they would. I doubt that I will ever consider this to be one of my favorite books, but I am now glad for the experience. It is possible that having access to highlights or short comments while reading would have helped my understanding, but I think it would have just been a distraction when I was having enough trouble concentrating. Certainly my comments as I read would not be useful to others. But the conversation, with each person’s thoughts leading to more observations and insights, was valuable as we reflected on the book as a whole.

Is civilization going to come to an end because of instantaneous commentary on books, page by page or sentence by sentence? Probably not. I learned that there are people who now read Kindle highlights rather than books and say they have read the books. What they have read is what interests someone else, but they may be the same type who used to read book reviews and never the books, ingesting one person’s view instead of forming their own. My fear is that younger readers will think that the preferred way to read is with a cacophony of commentary as a companion, rather than in quiet isolation with one’s own thoughts. My hope is that they will tire of the bombardment, and see the value of focusing on the pleasure at hand without distraction. I am reminded of the gentleman at the supermarket deli counter the other day who was so intent on his smart phone that he missed his number when called. Several minutes later he raised his head, raised his hand with a now bypassed number, and seemed startled to realize what had happened. The rest of us grinned knowingly; our focus was on food, his elsewhere. He may have been conducting business or playing a game, but he almost missed his ham and cheese. We humans can only focus on one thing at a time. Books or comments, in any sequence, but one at a time. Don’t miss the meat while searching for the mayo.

Club This

by Erin Mitchell

First, I have to share this, which I find hilarious:

Ok, now on with the show…

I’ll say this right up front: I am not now nor have I ever been a joiner. I’m somewhat antisocial, and I’m skittish in large groups. So as much as I love reading and talking about (and marketing) books, I’ve never done the book club thing. It always seemed to me that if you have a (relatively small) group of people reading the same book and talking primarily to each other (read: other people who have already purchased the book) about the book, it’s not a scalable marketing opportunity.

I’m not talking Oprah here. Her “Book Club” is an entirely different entity, as are the many online “book clubs” from publishers, Amazon and Barnes & Noble and those sales entities that call themselves clubs.

Yesterday at a book signing, though, I was listening to a woman who was telling someone else in line that she just moved to the area, and she was desperate to find a book club. The woman was offering helpful suggestions about where she might look. She called over one of the store owners to ask whether they had a book club at the store (they don’t).

She made me curious enough to read this lengthy and somewhat convoluted article from Slate almost a year ago. It’s interesting, if somewhat difficult to slog though.

But here’s the thing: The woman asking about where to find a book club was buying SEVEN books. Hardcovers, all. Crime fiction, mostly. It occurred to me that perhaps I’ve been selling book clubs short. If someone likes reading enough to join a group of compatriots and talk about a book, that person is, by definition, an influencer. The whole group comprises them, in fact.

Interacting with book clubs is a timely endeavor, but it makes sense to include a reference to book clubs on your web site. That way, if a club is reading your book and wants to invite you to phone in, they can. Even if you decline such requests, it makes sense to listen to them and respond, because this interaction will only solidify club members as book advocates (and you can have someone else take care of this for you if it’s too cumbersome, of course).

Should you seek out book clubs? That depends on your book and, frankly, on you. From what I can tell, most book club members and administrators are women. So if your book is distinctly male-focused and/or you’re uncomfortable talking with female readers, probably not. If, however, you’re cool interacting with women readers and your book is good book club material and it fits in the scheme of your overall marketing endeavors, then yeah, sure.

Speaking of which, what makes a book club book, anyhow? I really can’t tell. Most of the clubs claim to read across genres, although most preclude anything smelling of erotica (sorry, 50 Shaders).

I also didn’t realize that BookCrossing is considered a book club. I’ve always been a fan of giving books away, and Book Crossing is a super means to do that, particularly in Europe where it seems to have more avid participants than here in the US.

Maybe one of these days I’ll get especially brave and attend a book club meeting. Until then, if you’ve used book clubs as a marketing tactic and/or participate in them, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

What We Mean When We Say "Special"

I’m nearly sick of my own voice, so I can only imagine your frustration/boredom with the prospect of another word dribbling missive from this corner of the publishing world. For a quick escape, here is a link to Yahoo, a picture of a dog that got in a fight with a porcupine (legit), somebody smarter and more articulate than me.

If you’re still here…

In the course of real world events, sometimes somebody says something witty or profound that applies to the publishing industry even though it is originally directed at an entirely different audience, like, say, the graduating class of 2012 over at Wellesley High School in Wellesley, Massachusetts.

For those of you who didn’t see it originally on June 1^st, Wellesley High English teacher, David McCullogh Jr. took a non-traditional approach to the commencement speech. He didn’t quote from Dr. Seuss’ Oh! The Places You’ll Go. He didn’t recite a long list of Succesory maxims.

He straight up told the kids, with all of their assorted kith and kin right there in the audience—

You are not special.  You are not exceptional.

Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you’re nothing special.

Yes, you’ve been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped.  Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again.  You’ve been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored.  You’ve been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie.  Yes, you have.  And, certainly, we’ve been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs.  Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet.  Why, maybe you’ve even had your picture in the Townsman!  And now you’ve conquered high school… and, indisputably, here we all have gathered for you, the pride and joy of this fine community, the first to emerge from that magnificent new building…

But do not get the idea you’re anything special.  Because you’re not.

The empirical evidence is everywhere, numbers even an English teacher can’t ignore.  Newton, Natick, Nee… I am allowed to say Needham, yes? …that has to be two thousand high school graduates right there, give or take, and that’s just the neighborhood Ns.  Across the country no fewer than 3.2 million seniors are graduating about now from more than 37,000 high schools.  That’s 37,000 valedictorians… 37,000 class presidents… 92,000 harmonizing altos… 340,000 swaggering jocks… 2,185,967 pairs of Uggs.  But why limit ourselves to high school?  After all, you’re leaving it.  So think about this: even if you’re one in a million, on a planet of 6.8 billion that means there are nearly 7,000 people just like you. (full speech here)

Earlier this week it was announced that a civil suit had been filed by disgruntled authors against PublishAmerica. As I am not all that interested in getting thrown frivolously into a lawsuit, I’ll reserve any real comment on what I might consider non-standard business practices as far PublishAmerica—a company that labels itself a traditional publishing house—goes. I will only say that, as I understand their operation, it varies significantly from any operation I’ve ever headed also called traditional publishing houses).

Thankfully, there are places to gather online to discuss different publishing operations, agents, and the assorted ephemera of the industry to get a better handle on how they are viewed in the community. One such website—Absolute Write—has a whole sub-forum devoted to Publish America. A quick review of the general Bewares forum shows there are dozens of other publishers and agents that seem to be challenged passing the bar of what is considered acceptable business practice (thank God for this never ending supply of italics. They make tip-toeing around things a smidge easier).

What I mean to say is that there are enough shady, fly-by-night, dangerously unqualified, well-meaning, but poorly informed operations out there who will publish your book using loose language and promises. Sometimes for a fee. Sometimes for hidden costs down the road. Sometimes with no cost, but also no chance in hell of being discovered by readers (why we’re all here). One thing that has become common with many of these operations is to proudly and boldly declare that they are in business because they believe writers have a right to be heard! They believe writers—but especially you—are special, and if it weren’t for the damn gatekeepers holding you back…

Hi. My name is Ben. And I’m a gatekeeper.

The simple truth is this—I see hundreds of books a year. The overwhelming majority of them are not special. They are not distinguishable from one another in quality or originality. They are a great lot of Cs. A mash-up of SVU, NYPD Blue, and LA Law.

Should they be published?

I can only answer whether or not they should be published with a Tyrus Books logo on the spine. I sometimes run into books that I truly love and adore, but that aren’t an editorial fit for our line. I sometimes find books that I’d be proud to publish, but I’m unable to come to terms with the agent. But mostly I get rehashed concepts and scraps of dialogue that inspire a slight shrug and an uninspired, “oh. Ok.”

Let’s be very clear about something—I believe in writers. When done right, a novel can be life-alteringly powerful. I have and will fight at great length to bring to light books that have moved me. No health insurance? No paycheck? Been there. Done that. The payment was always bigger when I could see the look in people’s eyes or hear in their voice how much a book that I loved moved them, too. If I were to then pretend that all books were that special, you’d know not to listen to me about books.

Is it an accomplishment to finish a novel? Sure. Many people talk about it and never do. But it doesn’t make an author special for having done it. What meaning can special have if every author who finishes a book—regardless of quality—is special?

It isn't easy to write a truly special book. It requires a hybrid of honed talent, natural gift, and a dedication to process. Plenty of people have those elements in varying quantities, but to put them all together, redlined and complete, is the elevating factor.

It's also the goal we should set for ourselves for everything we do.

Always.

 

Reviews and recommendations

Meriel Patrick, deputizing for Lynne.

In last week's post, I talked about a disappointing experience with a historical crime novel that a friend had recommended to me.

With the next book I started after that, I had an almost diametrically opposite experience. I'd vaguely heard of S. J. Watson's Before I Go To Sleep as something that had done well in various prizes, but I didn't know a great deal about it. So when another friend said he'd had to read it for his book group and had found it unbelievably tedious, I just shrugged my shoulders and added it to my mental don't-bother list.

When I saw him again a week later, he'd been to the book group meeting, and found that everyone else there had loved it. So out of curiosity, I picked up a copy in an idle moment and read the first couple of pages, rapidly followed by the first couple of chapters. The book went home with me, and it became clear quite quickly that Before I Go To Sleep was not only the title of the work, but an accurate description of when I was going to finish it.

This in itself isn't much more than an acknowledgement that not everyone likes the same kind of book. Before I Go To Sleep is a psychological thriller about a woman with a form of amnesia which means she wakes up every morning with no memory of her present life. Her gradual piecing together of her past was something that I found absolutely gripping, but I can see why someone who prefers books with lots of fast-paced action might find it slow going.

What struck me as interesting, however, was the discovery that Before I Go To Sleep and last week's disappointing historical have surprisingly similar Amazon star-rating profiles. The absolute numbers are very different (Before I Go To Sleep has over 1200 reviews, while the historical novel has only ten), but in each case, about half the reviewers gave it a maximum five stars, and the rest are divided fairly evenly between ratings from four down to one. The overall average for Before I Go To Sleep is 3.9, and 3.6 for the historical. Yet it seemed to me that Before I Go To Sleep was not just more my kind of book, but was objectively a lot better than the historical, in almost every respect: the characters were more fully realized, the plot was tighter, and the quality of the writing was simply in a different league.

This set me wondering about the extent to which reviews and recommendations are helpful guides about what's worth reading and what's not. I'll certainly carry on taking recommendations from friends, despite two recent instances where our opinions varied quite significantly. Experience suggests they get it right more often than they don't, and people who know me well are frequently quite adept at selecting books not simply because they're good, but because they're the specific sort of good that will appeal to me.

But online reviews from strangers... I'm not so sure. If there's an overwhelming consensus that the book is terrific or terrible, that may mean something, but in cases like this, where opinions are mixed? If there isn't a trustworthy friend or a friendly bookseller to hand, how do you go about deciding whether you're more likely to side with the one-stars or the five-stars?

An Extraordinary Experience in Social Media

Josh Getzler

After the last few crazy weeks  of conferences, the launch of a significant book I represent, and my son’s bar mitzvah, I had anticipated that this week’s post would be a discussion of BEA and Deadweather and Sunrise (and maybe a word or two about a beautifully rendered Haftorah).

But then I got an email from my cousin Glen last Wednesday with the subject line “Holy Crap!” and the week went in a completely unexpected direction. I will get to BEA and books next week. For now I need to talk about my High School—the Horace Mann School in New York—and the aftermath of this past week’s cover story in The New York Times Magazine; its revelation of sexual abuse by faculty members of students during a period that included my high school years (and implicated teachers I knew). What I want to talk about is less the story itself (which you can read at http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/10/magazine/the-horace-mann-schools-secret-history-of-sexual-abuse.html?pagewanted=all) than about the extraordinary way alumni gathered on Facebook to discuss the Times story; their own high school experiences; and, at times, their own experiences—both good and bad—with these and other faculty members.

It started a few hours after the article appeared, after I’d already forwarded it to my friends around the country and we started a mini email discussion group. I was invited, as a Horace Mann alum, to join a closed Facebook group where other alums could safely and privately go through their feelings and help each other out. I went to it, expecting (I think) to take a look, shrug my shoulders, and log off. After all, I’d not been a victim. As far as I know, none of my close friends had been abused by their teachers.  I figured that looking in on the conversation would feel voyeuristic and uncomfortable. I also figured it would be a small, closed group of people in crisis, and I didn’t feel I had either the credibility or knowledge to provide solace.

It is now six days later. There are currently more than 2,000 alumni on the group. There have been thousands of posts. Person after person talks about how they are being completely inefficient at work and home because they are compulsively reading the posts. I have never seen anything remotely resembling this extended, intense, constructive, relevant, compelling conversation among an enormous group of people from around the world. And it’s not a group of teenagers gossiping, either. Rather, it’s a couple of thousand forty- and fifty-somethings working through decades-old issues together. And considering the population—largely cosmopolitan graduates of a New York prep school who were jaded in ninth grade and grew up with both pressure and privilege—there is an almost complete absence of snark. The writing is great, the emotions raw, the reminiscences sometimes surprising, sometimes funny, sometimes bitter.

I had a pretty institutionally unremarkable tenure at Horace Mann from 1981-1986. I was reasonably well-adjusted most of the time, and no more miserable than most teenagers when I was miserable. I was in some plays and on the tennis team, worked very hard all the time, formed a band with some other students, and went to college (in my mind) very well prepared academically. I made a good number of friends, many of whom I’ve stayed close to for more than 25 years. We talk a little about HM when we get together.

But I don’t think I’ve had a round-the-campfire discussion about kids and teachers, who’s cool (and who’s a jerk), where this was going to lead us, how are we going to make it through, social striving and resentment, in decades. Now it’s more likely to be about our own kids’ schools and issues, or our current professional angst. I haven’t thought in years about what it meant to sit on the left side of the cafeteria or get picked on by the chem teacher.

But for the last six days, as alum after alum has gathered on Facebook and just talked out issues of Crossed Lines and inappropriate gropes during drivers ed and fallen heroes and institutional responsibility, I’ve found myself riveted to the page. And I’ve found myself, guiltily, enjoying myself. It’s inappropriate, like when you see out-of-town relatives at a family funeral and make inside jokes at the cemetery or shiva, and are happy to be together even when you should be more solemn. I’ve made contact with old classmates and heard stories of 25-year-old hijinks. I’m constantly impressed with the intellect and sensitivity of the people on line—and of the varied and fascinating careers they’ve had, which have come out in their writing.

And the reason for all of this—the catharsis, the collective grief and healing and discussion and argument and reconciliation—has been Facebook, remarkably. So many of us use Facebook for either time wasting or business or keeping in touch with relatives or keeping track of old lovers, that it sometimes becomes a ubiquitous punchline. In this case, it’s become a virtual auditorium, self-policed but remarkably non-anarchic. The self-appointed administrators have been diligent and serious but not obtrusive.

We hear all the time about the dangers of the internet. Unlike my generation, which apparently had enough trouble policing predators in their midst, my kids’ generation has to deal with people they don’t even know looking them up on line and virtually abusing them. But most teachers are not child molesters, and schools like Horace Mann have implemented policies to work toward eliminating abuses like the ones the victims in the article endured. We talk to our kids about sex and safety in ways our parents had no reason to think about discussing with us. And when social media works, like it has so brilliantly these past six days, you can see carefully past the danger and to its almost limitless constructive potential. 

 

The Voice of Aaron Tucker, Part 2

Jeff Cohen

This week's commercial note: The audiobook contest for a free copy of FOR WHOM THE MINIVAN ROLLS, A FAREWELL TO LEGS or AS DOG IS MY WITNESS from Books In Motion ends this Friday, so get your entry in now (here's how). And on to business:

Last week, I began an interview with Damon Abdallah, the terrific actor who reads the Aaron Tucker novels for the new Books In Motion audiobook editions (more on that later). But Damon's insights into how audiobooks are recorded and his process as an actor was too fascinating to cut down for one week's post, so here's part 2 of the interview:

Jeff Cohen:  How do you get "assigned" a book? Is there an audition process, or does the audio publisher simply call and make the offer?

Damon Abdallah: My audio engineer, the wise and talented Myles Milliman, hands me a book and says, "I've got a book for you". Beyond that, I don't understand much about how they choose me specifically for a particular project, although I know that time is a factor on finishing books, and that it's in my best interest as a reader to get a book knocked out sooner rather than later.

Miles Milliman, the Studio Manager for Books In Motion, was kind enough to fill in the blanks: 

MM: Essentially, when we are looking over our list of To-Do books that we have already contracted, I will read a bit of one to get a feel for the genre, protagonist, and mood of the book. If it is, say, a gritty western in which the main character is male, then I will think over my list of available male readers and decide which voice best suits the tone of that book. If it is a historical romance, I have some female voices that fit that perfectly and others that don't at all. 

Sometimes I need a younger, hipper voice, sort of like for your books, and sometimes I need an older, grizzled guy for the main character in a hard boiled mystery or such.----so most of it just comes down to casting, the way you would cast a play or movie. Except in our business, you can look like Steve Buscemi in Con Air, and still play Matt Damon in The Bourne Supremacy. In fact, just last week I told Damon that he definitely has a face for radio.  Now that I think of it, I haven't heard from him since then. Hmm.   Just kidding, he's a great guy and funny as heck. We spend much studio time in stitches when we should be laying audio.

  

Anyway, the only time that I conduct an audition, is if I am looking for a brand new reader, and then it is never for a book that I need done. Usually I just go over the demo reel that someone has sent me and decide if they generally meet the standards I have for the talent. If so, I will make notes about their overall sound and keep them on file. If I'm ready for someone new, I go through my CD's and listen to a few that have made my short--list and then contact them about terms. If they are agreeable, we sign the contracts and I shoot out a book to  them that I have already decided they would be a good match for based on what I've heard on their demo. However I will always ask them to send me a few recorded minutes of that book, just so that I can give them any direction that may be needed.

 
Now, most of the above applies to readers that have their own studios and work remotely. 

For in house talent, like Damon, it was a case of him knowing some of my already on staff readers through theater, and expressing a desire to audition. I asked my readers if I should give him a shot (this is a good way to weed out the wanna--be's). They encouraged me to audition him and the rest is history.

 

But it really is a chosen few that we actually hire, because they have to have a natural ability to do several things at once in that booth (be a storyteller, develop and keep consistent characters, be mindful of diction, articulation and pacing, sound natural, read ahead a few lines while speaking the previous sentence etc) none of which can be taught, and very little of it directed. It's either there or it isn't really.

 

JC: When there's humor in the book--like hopefully there is in the Aaron Tucker series--does that add a level of difficulty? Do you concern yourself with where the joke is?

DA: There was humor in those books? (Kidding of course.) In the case of the Aaron Tucker Mysteries, there was something funny being thought or said or happening on just about every page, and that's an important thing to get right. It sure makes the job more pleasant for me, especially when a lot of murder mysteries can be downright humorless. But that's one of the things (maybe the biggest thing) that makes your series so unique, and again I thank you for that. Not sure how well that answers the question, but I guess the short answer would be "No, it doesnt' add a level of difficulty, it makes it easier" and that I think we have similar senses of humor, so there's no real concern about playing a joke, the funny seems to come pretty naturally.

 

JC: How difficult is it to develop female voices?

DA: How does a baritone voice female characters? Here I go beating the theatre-horse again--the poor thing--I have played female characters in plays like "Greater Tuna" and "The 39 Steps", and while those were always done to zany comedic effect, as a performer you're still trying to keep yourself grounded in being the character, and doing justice to the moment. Also, a lot of audiobook narration involves invoking tones-of-voice rather than actual voices. The sultry widow in "Legs" sounds sort of Kathleen-Turnerish, but it's not an impersonation, it's more a flavoring--further back in the throat than say, Abby's vocal intonation. It's hard to explain. I just do it. Damn Jeff, these are some great questions!

 

JC: How did you get into voice acting? 

DA: I was contacted by Books In Motion due in part to my reputation in the theatre community in Spokane, and I've been doing the audiobook thing a little over a year now. Beyond that, I havent really done much voice work. I am involved in a web series thats in development called "Felt High", a potty-mouth show about high school kids which is done with puppets and green-screens and is really funny and I voice two of the main characters for that. I've always loved doing silly voices and impersonations of cartoon characters and SNL skits and quoting lines from movies, much to the chagrin of my wife. I hope to find new and exciting ways to put the voices in my head to some use.

 

JC:What do you find difficult and what do you find enjoyable about taking a book and creating a performance of it?

DA: I think some of the answer to that one I may have touched on previously, the general challenge just being that you're trying to simulate the anticipation and tension of a book with your voice. It's funny, I spend this weekend with my three-year-old niece, and while I was reading Dr.Seuss to her aloud, I was thinking about how it's just like what I do with narrating a book for grown ups; I'm trying to be clear and sincere until I get to dialogue, and then I'm trying to sound interesting and dynamic.

 

JC: How does the actual recording work? What are you reading from (we don't hear paper rustling)? How long does it take to record a book?

DA: The recording process works like this; I arrive at 9:30am and they put me into a small padded room and they don't let me out untill after noon. I usually keep a bottle of water on hand, and once I get into a rhythm with it, things go pretty smoothly until I find myself reading too fast and saying funny mush-mouthed stuff for the blooper reel. I'll stop, and then we'll go back to the last sentence I said correctly, and we'll begin again. Sometimes we have to stop because we hear a page-turn, which is why you don't hear that in the final product. I read the Hardcover editions of the Aaron Tucker mysteries, although the book I'm currently reading is in loose-leaf manuscript format, which makes it tougher to discreetly turn those pages. I should take this opportunity to mention Books In Motions' wonderful engineers, Myles and Elijah, who make me sound good, editing out my mistakes, stopping me when I don't catch something, or when I neglect to stop myself, and basically employing their technical prowess in ways I can only pretend to understand and making the finished audiobook you hear sound as good as it does. Major kudos to those guys. They're also just cool guys who don't mind if I get sidetracked between sentences and want to rant about Star Wars or The Avengers or do voices from The Simpsons, all of which is very essential to the process. In a three hour session I usually lay down about an hour and 15 minutes of finished material, usually forcing myself to read fifty pages in that time. At fifty pages per session, it takes me about a week and a half to knock out the average book.

 

JC: You did an amazing job with the Aaron Tucker series. Do you hear from listeners who appreciate your work? 

DA: Jeff, you are not only the first author who has contacted me, you are the first listener! BIM has a new Facebook page, and there is some buzz developing for our work at large there, but as for me specifically, I get positive feedback from the engineers and fellow narrators at the studio, and that's enough for me. My wife has a friend who listens to a lot of audio books, and is a huge fan of mine. I can't complain, I guess.

 

JC: You have a background in theater and film. Aside from the obvious, how is the audiobook process different as an actor?

DA: The biggest difference is probably proximity to my audience. Kinda ties in with the last question's answer. There's less pressure when performing for a microphone and one or two people in a studio than a sold-out house, or even that terrifying camera lens. Also, I don't have to research. Hopefully the author of the book I'm reading has done that.

Many thanks to Damon Abdallah, not only for brilliantly voicing the Aaron Tucker series, but for patiently and completely answering my questions these past two weeks!

If you're interested in hearing Damon's work on the Aaron Tucker books, we're offering each of the three titles--FOR WHOM THE MINIVAN ROLLS, A FAREWELL TO LEGS and AS DOG IT MY WITNESS, one each to three winners of a contest you can enter by clicking here! Hope everybody enters, and best of luck!

 

Choices, choices

    I was faced this year with the unhappy task of having to choose between attending Book Expo or the New Jersey Library Association spring conference, both of which took place this past week.  After some agonized deliberation I chose the library conference, in no small part because I thought it was important to support NJLA, a group  that has had the library community's back  during such difficult political and economic times.    That, and the chance to stay at Revel, Atlantic City's newly opened resort/casino which, at times, felt as if it required almost as much walking as a stroll through BEA's Javits Center.

    So what were the hot topics for NJ librarians this year? 

    Although  technology, ebooks, and services for children and teens appeared to take the largest share of programming slots, the offerings at this year's conference were spread out over a wide range of topics including privacy of library records, book blogging, disaster planning, Tumblr, pop music resources, gaming, teen advisory boards, and the 2010 census.   Conspicuously absent from the program schedule were sessions dealing with Google, Facebook, and podcasting.

    Sadly, what was also conspicuously absent from this year's conference were big name or even mid-list authors, possibly because of the conflict with Book Expo but  also possibly  because of how much it would have cost to bring a  broadly recognized name to the conference.   Happily, one exception was an appearance at the Garden State Book Awards luncheon  by  Lauren Oliver, an absolutely delightful young woman who  managed to completely captivate a roomful of  mostly children's services librarians with her account of how she came to write  Before I Falland the dystopian trilogy Delirium, Pandemonium, and Requiem, all titles for young adults .   Although I have never felt much of a compulsion to read YA literature before, she did an excellent job of making me curious enough to  actually consider reading her stuff.

      What perhaps struck me most at the conference was the fact that everyone seemed to be putting on a brave face in spite of the very real challenges that libraries and librarians are up against.   Both of this year's keynote speakers were from the world of  academia and both  exhorted librarians to embrace change as the only way to continue to be relevant and thus remain viable.  The other buzzword that continually came up was "partnering," something that we were encouraged to do early and often, be it with other libraries, schools, non-profits, or businesses.   In the face of constant technological advancement, I do understand that libraries will wither away and die if we can't find ways to keep up with it all.  I am, however, having trouble embracing the idea that libraries will have  to morph into something that can best be described as equal  parts social services agency, video arcade, recording studio, and Kinko's in order to remain relevant.

    The other thing that was noticeable at this year's conference was the number of younger librarians in attendance.  I am sorry that I did not more actively engage in discussions with members of this new generation of professionals  to learn more about what they  consider to be  the best hope for the future of libraries and librarianship.  I myself am at that dangerous age where I find myself constantly questioning my own opinions - are they based on a good reading of the situation at hand or are my opinions based on professional principles that have become outmoded?   Time will  surely tell.

     Postscript:  As good a time as I had at the conference, I am still bummed out by the fact that I missed out on the possibility of meeting Josh, Erin, Benjamin and Dana for that very special Dead Guy  episode from the floor of the Javits Center.

Full Cycle?

Marilyn Thiele

A visit from my sister last weekend led to a little trip down memory lane, as such get-togethers often do. We were discussing books from our childhood, and we reminisced over our favorites. We both remember having personal collections of a few books; most of our reading material was obtained from the library. We puzzled for a while, though, over where we actually bought books; we didn’t remember any bookstores. We grew up in the near suburbs of Philadelphia, certainly not an isolated area. Then it came back: the semi-annual shopping trip to Wanamaker’s, THE department store in center city. The purpose of the trip was to buy new clothes for school, spring and fall. After the agony of trying on multiple items and making the final selection, we were allowed to spend time in the book department. Until now, I had forgotten that major department stores devoted a significant amount of space to books in the 1950s.

This long-forgotten memory inspired me to do some thinking and research on the development of bookstores, at least in my lifetime. I came across a book, Reluctant Capitalists: Bookselling and the Culture of Consumption by Laura J. Miller (University of Chicago Press, 2006), from which I’ve drawn most of the information here, interspersed with my own memories and opinions. The growth and decline of both independent and chain bookstores can be tracked with changes in our society and shopping habits. My view is that there are signs, at least in bookselling, that we are cycling back to an earlier time.

Before World War II, suburbs were built with the assumption that most people would do their shopping, other than for daily necessities, in the cities. The periodic trip to the city for clothing, linens, furniture, (and books) was the norm. Although the movement of stores to the suburbs, starting with “strip malls,” began in the 1950s, habits take a while to change. Our family had one car, which my father used to commute to work, so Mom didn’t run us to the (non-existent) mall for an afternoon. According to Miller, bookstores were concentrated in the cities, and were “either patrician and clubby or dark and musty,” organized (or not) in a way understood only by the bookseller. “The bookstore was thus assumed to be a serious place for serious or affluent individuals.” Now I know why I have no memory of bookstores in my childhood; they were not places where working class people were comfortable, even on shopping trips to the city.

There IS one bookstore I remember from that time, and I must mention it. Leary’s, a Philadelphia institution from 1850 to 1969, was a favorite of an aunt and uncle who would take us there when they visited from Ohio.  There were three floors plus a basement full of used books. It definitely was the “dark and musty” style, and the salespeople, by store policy, did not approach browsers unless asked. There were, by Leary’s estimate, 20,000 square feet of books. The only comparison I can make is to The Strand in New York, but Leary’s was much more “musty.” It was book lover’s heaven, and may be the reason I wound up selling used books, although in a clean and bright store.

Miller does an excellent job of describing the shift to suburban shopping, from strip malls to enclosed shopping malls, and the corresponding evolution in bookselling. Department stores built suburban branches, and continued to have book departments in them. Independent booksellers (are we always behind the curve?), with a few exceptions, stayed in the cities where they felt they could attract the more sophisticated patrons and have enough foot traffic to survive. Still, where there is commercial opportunity, there will be capitalists. Voila! Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and others, started operations in the suburbs. They became staples in the enclosed malls that began to proliferate. Rather than intimidating the potential reader who was afraid she was not sophisticated enough for a bookstore, they made the stores welcoming and ubiquitous, one of many places to shop. Standardization of furnishings and displays took away the elite aura surrounding bookselling. Books became readily available to a vast majority of the population. Independent bookstores, now seeing the future, were, unfortunately, often shut out of the shopping centers and malls. Landlords much preferred chains, which could pay higher rent and withstand lower sales seasonally or during start-up.

The next step for chain bookstores was the “superstore,” coinciding with the development of “big boxes” for other retailers. Miller says the trend was back to a “high culture ‘lite’” ambiance to attract the more affluent customer away from the independents. It worked. Independents were in the crosshairs, but those that survived learned to be warm and user-friendly. There was something of a “culture war,” with independent booksellers decrying the commodification of books (“might as well be toothpaste”), the large volume of space devoted to certain best-selling authors and the lack of knowledgeable staff. Independents kept losing ground, however, as the convenience, selection, and ability to discount offered by large chains proved too attractive to readers.

So where are we now? The chains are in trouble too. B. Dalton, Waldenbooks, Borders – all gone. Barnes and Noble is struggling. The advent of on-line retailers and electronic books has changed the landscape again. I have some affection for chain bookstores. I lived in Washington, D.C., when Crown books first opened. I thought it was a gift from heaven. When I moved to New Jersey and Borders expanded to the east, the manna continued. (I was a corporate drone, not a bookseller, in those days.) They brought books, even if commoditized, to a large audience. Growing up, I was not taken to a bookstore on a regular basis, as my son was, because it was inconvenient for my parents and not part of anyone’s routine. Now children are overstocked with books, as with many other things. Reading has become a part of life for ordinary people in a way that it was not in my childhood. (My sister and I were considered “bookworms,” not a term of respect!) Young people now discuss popular books and series, even at the elementary school level. More quality literature is available to them, since publishers have (had?) large outlets for books. Adults who started out reading the “brand name” authors so prominently displayed are looking for more “meat” once the reading habit is developed. There has also been a benefit to independent bookstores from the expectation that books should be readily available.  I was dismayed (actually angry) a few months ago when a customer who shopped regularly at Border’s and less regularly with me, said, “This town needs a bookstore.” My internal reaction was, “And what is this?” I realized in retrospect that she had the expectation that a “superstore” for books is a shopper’s right, just as is Home Depot. She likes my store; it just isn’t the same as a chain. Same or not, I’m there and Borders is not, and more and more people are finding the cozy atmosphere and personal attention they didn’t know they were missing. 

I was pleased to see in an AP article this week about BookExpo America that that membership in the American Bookseller’s Association has increased for the third straight year after years of decline. The author attributes this to the growing “shop local” movement, falling real estate prices and the ease of creating and maintaining web sites. I think that there is more to the “shop local” movement than a “feel good” activity like recycling. The economic malaise we have been in for several years has taken some time to affect shoppers’ habits, just as shopping centers did not immediately draw customers from the cities in the 1950s. The real estate disaster has slowly turned people from feeling entitled to have everything they want immediately to considering the real value of purchases. Even those still employed and not in foreclosure are less reckless in their spending; things are just too uncertain. There is a comfort in simplifying things; too much choice in “big boxes” is just too overwhelming. I’m not suggesting that we are returning to the 1950’s, but I think we are cycling away from the big to the small. Purchasing one carefully chosen book, perhaps recommended by a knowledgeable bookseller, may trump “buy two get one free” when all three are ill-considered choices.

Independent bookstores will not be thriving in every street corner, but they never were. I think they will become more common where there is a population to support them, not just in cities. Electronic books and on-line retailers can fulfill the role libraries once did, vast choice at low cost. The most popular books are once again available at department stores, Walmart and Target rather than Wanamaker’s, Dayton’s or Hudson’s. Cheaper paperback books are in the supermarket and the drug store, just as the “pocket books” were at Woolworth’s or the local pharmacy in the 50s. The evolution of bookselling in the last fifty years has created an expectation that quality books should be readily available in an establishment dedicated to literature but accessible to everyone. We can’t go back, but moving forward often means a pendulum swing to a revised version of an earlier state of affairs. I like to think that pendulum is swinging my way.

BEN'S BEA Recap

Eleven years ago I went to my first Book Expo America—that year held in Chicago. Pre-Tyrus, Pre-Bleak House Books, all the way back to the Diversity Incorporated days of poetry and short story collections.

Displaying at Book Expo America was profoundly more difficult than we had anticipated. There was the prohibitive cost, the time spent setting up a booth, putting together a booth with little to no money that didn’t look like a bad home made project, and then the business of standing desperately for two or three days trying to catch the attention of booksellers and librarians who had already been inundated with promotional copies and sales pitches from folks like Random House and Little, Brown.

It was exciting in its way. And I’m glad I paid the dues. But eleven years later I’m very glad I no longer have to set up the booths or hawk wares.

In the early days, we didn’t get invited to parties (because we didn’t know anybody and nobody knew us), but in more recent years, there are usually more invitations than hours to fulfill them. On my first night in the city I went to a party at the Scandinavia House to celebrate the launch of Danish crime writer Sara Blaedel’s new novel Only One Life. Dead Guy’s very own Erin Mitchell sent the invite and I attended the party with book blogger and Twitter friend, @thepickygirl.

Thursday morning I had breakfast with Sean Chercover, then went to the Javits Center for BEA. Had a meeting with my boss and some other folks. Ran into Yishai Seidman, agent for Scott O’Connor’s great novel, Untouchable. Walked around the Javits Center for a long time until I met with the Greenwich Girl.

Hung out a little longer at the show then walked back to my hotel.

Went to a Penguin party with Dana Kaye. Had dinner with Dana Kaye at Do Hwa . During the cab ride back to the hotel, the cabbie randomly asked, “Do you like Journey?”

I told him I did.

He played “Faithfully.” We laughed and sang along. Then there was some Bryan Adams (Dana took over on lead vocals) and we fell out of the cab wondering what the hell had just happened.

Thursday morning I hung out with another Twitter friend, took two more short meetings, and then finished up my time at the Javits Center. Total hours spent on the floor this year? Maybe six or seven. Stress level? Way down. Targeted business accomplished? Plenty.

On Thursday night I attended a party thrown by Soho Press—some of my favorite people in the publishing world—ran into old friends (people I’ve met at Book Expo America over the years), had a few affirming conversations, gave a few high fives, and I was out the door and in bed by 10 pm because I am an old man.

And that was Book Expo America 2012.

 

Rewriting history

(Lynne's daughter Meriel here, deputizing again while my mum enjoys a couple of weeks States-side.)

I recently read a crime novel set in Victorian England. I'm a big fan of historical crime novels, and this one had been recommended to me by a friend whose judgement is usually sound, so I was expecting great things. I was... disappointed.

The plot would have benefited from some tightening up, and some of the dialogue was a little clunky. But the thing that proved a persistent annoyance throughout the book - like trying to listen to a radio programme through a constant crackle of static - was that the author (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) simply hadn't done his research properly. As far as I could tell, the central events that the story hung on were all accurate (insofar as they were meant to be, anyway: a major part of the plot revolved around telling an alternative version of history), but it rapidly became obvious that the author had no idea how aristocratic titles worked. I could have ignored this if it had only been an issue with one or two minor characters, but the detective himself is titled, as are most of the people he moves amongst. Specifically, he's referred to as both Lord Forename Surname (again, actual names withheld!) and Lord Surname as if these were interchangeable, when in fact they indicate very different statuses.

While this isn't the sort of thing I'd expect the average person in the street to know, I can't help feeling that if you're writing (or for that matter editing) a crime novel with a noble hero, then maybe at some point it's worth going and spending ten minutes looking through the Wikipedia article on forms of address in the United Kingdom? (For anyone who's curious, Lord Surname implies he's a peer, whereas Lord Forename Surname indicates a younger son of a duke or marquis - as with Lord Peter Wimsey, the creation of an author who certainly did do her research. Sometimes it's a bit more complicated than that, as the title may not be the same as the surname - as in Downton Abbey, where the family name is Crawley, but the head of the family is Lord Grantham - but that need not detain us here.)

However, I'm aware that this is the sort of thing that bothers me a lot and other people not at all. Out of curiosity, I went and looked at the Amazon reviews. Pretty much as I'd expected, there was one anguished 'How can he not realize?' review (from a history professor, apparently), and lots of people who hadn't even noticed - some of whom even praised the author's grasp of period detail.

There was another point where I thought I'd caught the author out. A small boy is given a present that he loves, and his response is 'Wow!', which to me just felt totally out of place in Victorian London. Being the sort of pedant I am, I went and looked the word 'wow' up in the Oxford English Dictionary. The first recorded usage of the relevant sense was... in 1892. Which just happens to be the precise year in which the book is set. Yet despite this, it wouldn't surprise me if that one little word jarred with far more people than the repeated mistakes with titles.

This set me wondering: is it more important for a historical crime novel to be accurate, or to feel right? While I'm sure there are plenty of crime buffs who are also history buffs, a lot of us who enjoy historical crime are chiefly interested in the story - the history mostly provides atmosphere, and maybe a social structure or legal system that permits plot devices that wouldn't work in a contemporary novel. Obviously it's preferable for authors to avoid getting things demonstrably wrong, but if push comes to shove, is it better for an author to stick rigorously to the historical facts (including people saying 'Wow!' in the 1890s)? Or are there times when a little bit of creative anachronism can help to oil the wheels of the narrative?

Apologies

Josh Getzler

The last two weeks have been very difficult from a blog-writing standpoint. Last week I was in the final stages of preparation for my son's Bar Mitzvah, which coincided with the launch for Geoff Rodkey's Deadweather and Sunrise. This week I've been swamped with BEA doings. I look forward to returning next week, and for the rest of the summer (I expect), with new, and hopefully interesting, material. And I can't wait. I love writing this blog, and I resent being behind. So expect some fun ones the rest of June and July!

 

JG

Win an Audiobook! Find Out How It's Recorded!

Jeff Cohen

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the joys and queasiness of hearing my first two Aaron Tucker books, FOR WHOM THE MINIVAN ROLLS and A FAREWELL TO LEGS, read for audiobook by the talented actor Damon Abdallah. (The third, AS DOG IS MY WITNESS, is now also available, but I haven't heard that one yet.) And I speculated on what the process of reading books for audio must be like. So I got in touch with Mr. Abdallah, and he graciously agreed to answer a few questions about it.

What you're about to read is the first part of our interview, since the whole thing at once would be much too long to deal with in one sitting. So stay tuned--next week we'll discuss audiobooks some more!

Jeff Cohen: What's your process in performing an audiobook? How do you begin? How long do you have to prepare before recording?

Damon Abdallah: How do I prepare? Hmm...at the risk of sounding like a cop-out, I sort of... don't. But please believe there is a strategy behind it! You know when you're reading a book, and it's suspenseful and all page-turney and stuff, and you can't wait to find out what happens next because you don't know? Well, my rationale for not reading the books I record ahead of time is my attempt to retain that sense of anticipation. I'm banking on that feeling somehow coming through in my voice as I'm figuring out what's happening next. Don't know if that works or not, but it's worked for me as a reader. 

Sometimes this comes back to bite me, like when I somehow missed the bit of information in "Minivan" where you mentioned Barry Dutton's ethnicity. If you'll notice, the Chief of Police sounds sort of like Walter Matthau in that first book, and then like a black dude in the second and third. We got to the part in Minivan where Aaron makes the joke about "Aren't we supposed to say African American?" and Barry says he can say "nigger" if he wants to, because he's black. At that point, we're about 2/3 of the way through the book, and after consulting with Miles, my recording engineer, we resolved that we couldn't go back and change what we'd done with such a major character, so we stayed the course on Book One and properly "Africanized" poor Chief Dutton in the next two. My fear in reading ahead is that--even unintentionally, on a sub-conscious level--I'll give away the killer in my performance and won't do justice to all your lovely red herrings.

As far as how much prep-time do I have? If I finish a book on a Friday, I'll take the next one home with me on the weekend. At the risk of over-stating things, the only real prep I did for the Aaron Tucker series was read the information on the flaps of the hardcover edition (which was what I used for the recording on all three--I think "Dog" was in paperback) and when I read the "About the author" and saw your picture, and saw that you'd written books about the autism spectrum and had a wife and two kids, I tried to picture Aaron Tucker as looking a bit like this Jeff Cohen guy, and that made it a lot easier to play the part, especially with it being first person narrative.

JC: How does each character--and there are a LOT of characters--get a voice? 

DA: The narrator (that's me) comes from a background of stage and film acting, and found I had a knack for improvisation, accents and silly voices early in high school. One of my proudest accomplishments as a regional theatre actor was getting to perform Becky Mode's one-man show "Fully Committed" for two different theatres, a show where I played 40 characters in an hour and a half. When I started working at Books in Motion last year, I pretty much chose to just dive in.

Most halfway decent writers (this excludes you, sir, who I would say is at least three-quarters to all of the way decent) tend to give clues as to a characters accent or manner or way of speaking early on.

Other times, I simply infer traits. If there's a reporter named Rodriguez, I don't make him sound like Cheech Marin, but I'll give it a slight Latin flavor, unless it's a character we're likely only going to encounter for a page or two.

JC: I'll try to retain my level of decency from here on in. Thank you! Now, the question everybody wants to know: How do you keep all those voices straight? How do you know you're not duplicating something?

DA: Sometimes I don't! It's like when I'm in a play and people ask me afterward "How do you memorize all those lines?" It's the thing that impresses people the most sometimes, and the answer is never as spectacular as people expect. You just say it, and say it and say it until it sticks. Same with the voices. I picture the faces of Abby and Ethan and Barry (although his face did some morphing!) and Aaron and each face has its own distinct intonation.

So much of the success of the recordings of these particular books is a testament to your writing though, it really is. You don't waste our time expounding upon a minor character we're only going to meet for a chapter or two and then never see again, so as the reader-alouder, I can put my trust in the fact that the voice I'm applying to the face I'm envisioning isn't going to be wasted. (Side tangent: Stephen King, who's written some amazing fiction that I love, is notorious for that! He made that uncut version of The Stand in the 90's, and it just made it 300 pages more tedious and confusing! Okay, I'm done.)

JC: What happens when you're reading a book you think is lousy?

DA: Ouch, this is prudent. After finishing the lovely Aaron Tucker mysteries, where I enjoyed the characters and the stories and the style of writing, and therefore had a total blast getting paid to read it aloud--I was reading a series of horror novels that is so badly written, so devoid of proper grammar, or correct spelling or sentence structure, that I have been having homicidal feelings toward this "author", whose book feels like pornography written by a virgin.

As to how it affects the recording; it makes it extremely difficult to make progress when you have to stop every two minutes not because you have a throat tickle, or you stuttered or got tongue-tied on some alliteration, but because you have a manuscript that is cluttered with typos, characters whose names are spelled differently from chapter to chapter and have completely interchangeable personalities. I'm in the recording booth tearing out hair that I don't have!

JC: For the Aaron Tucker series, you had to deal with not only narrative and dialogue, but asides to the reader. Is that difficult?

DA: Asides are no biggie for me. Again, working as a stage actor for the past decade, I've gotten pretty good at sharpening what was already a pretty good natural understanding of vocal inflection. (Especially when Aaron's jokes that he just-can't-help are in parentheses!)

JC: Do you have preferences in terms of genre or theme that you seek out? 

DA: So far in the past year, I've done some forensic murder-mysteries, a non-fiction about Guantanamo Bay, a psychological horror, and the Aaron Tucker trilogy. Until the current gore-porn slog, I haven’t read anything I've disliked (although I haven’t liked anything as much as Aaron Tucker!), and I like getting to bounce from genre to genre. Some readers at Books In Motion seem to be specialized into certain types of books, hopefully I never will.

Next week: How a 6'2" man does female voices, why we don't hear paper rustling, and how Damon finds the jokes ahead of time.

For a chance to win a copy of one of the Aaron Tucker books on audio, click here!

So what is there left to say about book trailers?

So maybe my idea of starting web based business revolving around book trailers is really not such a good idea:

1.    If a book is poorly written, it's a fairly safe bet that the trailer for the book is not going to be good either.    It's also possible that an amateurishly produced book trailer could discourage people from picking up a book that is actually pretty good.

2.    Any book trailer website that wants to retain its credibility will have to guarantee the level of quality of the trailers being posted which means that someone has to view each  trailer that is submitted.  The amount of time required to do this is probably not commensurate with the level of revenue such a website would generate.

3.     Unless a book trailer is extremely well done or has something unique that sets it apart from all the others -  say, like an interview with Stephen King - they all start to blur together after a while.    In a movie theater where you are more or less semi-captive (unless you want to risk missing the start of the movie by going to the restroom or concession stand) you are  likely going to watch the movie trailers whether or not what they are promoting has any appeal to you.   When watching book trailers on an electronic screen, you are going to be  likely to click out of anything that doesn't grab your total  attention within the first 5 to 10 seconds.

4.    Public libraries throughout the US are currently facing serious budget cuts and are not going to  spend any of their precious funds on a subscription that provided book trailers at a time when libraries are struggling simply to keep the doors open.

5.     With all the existing free websites out there that cater to book lovers, there probably aren't too many readers out there who would see the need to subscribe to and regularly visit a book trailer specific website.  Websites without a lot of traffic will not generate a whole lot of advertising revenue.

So, is there anything good left to say about book trailers?

1.    Teachers have found them to be a very good way to get children more interested in reading in general.   Well done book trailers can also lead kids to titles they might not otherwise have considered.

2.    Students who are encouraged to create their own book trailers develop more of an interest in reading while also  developing valuable computer skills.

3.    As my experience at the Indie Book Buzz proved, a well done trailer is an effective and relatively inexpensive tool for introducing a book to a targeted audience.  

4.    One of my library director colleagues recently mentioned that his library had begun to post selected book trailers on their facebook page which I thought was an excellent idea. 

     I  do also wonder why there are still  so many  public librarians out there who have yet to see their first book trailer.   Aside from some   articles in School Library Journal, there's almost no acknowledgement of their existence in other  library publications.

    At some future date, I would still like to offer a  library program centered around book trailers, possibly using the members of my library's book discussion group as guinea pigs for the first go round.  I will keep you posted and I promise that this is the last you'll hear from me about book trailers for at least the next few months.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grey Area

Marilyn Thiele

A brief news item on CNN earlier this week startled me. Apparently, the most recent “hot item” for booksellers had been considered too hot for many libraries in Florida, and had been banned. The newsflash on Tuesday was that the ban was lifted, and now library patrons could read Fifty Shades of Grey and its sequels as freely as anyone else. I was startled because I had not heard that the books had been banned. I felt like I was listening to a news item from the distant past.  

For those of you not familiar with the Fifty Shades trilogy, its publishing history is as fascinating as its subject matter (for some of us, much more interesting).  It was originally published in small parts on a fan fiction website related to the Twilight series.  It was later organized into three books that were published as e-books. Then it went viral. My attention was first drawn to it during February of this year, when customers started asking about it. A little research showed me that it was available only as an e-book or as a print-on-demand hard copy at that time. Vintage published it in trade paperback format in April. Since then, sales have rivaled the Hunger Games rush of the early part of the year. It’s nice when there are overlapping book series flying off the shelves. I hope there’s something else in the pipeline in the next few months.

I have not read the books, but have heard much discussion both in my store and in the media. The main theme is bondage with sadomasochism. When customers who have read the first book come back for the second and third, I try to find out what the appeal is. These customers are often sophisticated readers of literary fiction, not my “bodice-ripper” clientele.  The consensus seems to be that the writing is a bit amateurish, but the two main characters are well developed; their motivations are explored in depth, and the reader wants to continue with the series to find out what happens to them.  Discussions also revolve around why today’s liberated women would be interested in bondage. Most agree that the fantasy of having someone else in charge is appealing to women who spend all their time being responsible. So apparently there is “redeeming social value” here.

Discussion of the appeal of these books could go on and on (and has), but my real topic today is the concept of banning books, or even “judging” their acceptability. (I sounded a little self-righteous above about my tastes.  I am not saying I would not read these books. I haven’t read The Hunger Games trilogy either; it’s a matter of time and priorities, and when I have time for pleasure reading, it’s pretty much crime fiction for me.) Libraries and schools have external pressures when they select books for patrons or students, and the political and community concerns can force choices the librarians themselves would not make. Banned Book Week still occurs in September, when attention is drawn to First Amendment issues and the suppression of some reading material. As a bookseller I have the freedom to choose what to sell, subject to the constraints of customer demand.

As I reacted to the idea that banned books are not a thing of the past, I thought about my own purchasing decisions. I realized that although I “ban” very little, I do “filter.” To some extent my tastes and values are imposed on my customers, although I don’t often consciously refuse to carry a book. In the political arena, I gravitate to books that are supportive of what I believe. I do carry books by authors of the “other persuasion,” but only those I consider somewhat rational. (There are so many crazies on that side!) I will order these books for customers, and certainly don’t forbid them; they’re just not prominently displayed. Censorship? Customers can get them elsewhere, and I’m not above stocking those that are in high demand. But I realize I do make judgments.

In other nonfiction areas, my choices are also often governed by my own tastes. Of course, the objective is to sell books, and I carry what people want, but I avoid celebrity memoirs, fad health books and other things that seem silly to me. I’m not saying they are silly, only acknowledging that I am filtering my purchases through my own values. I would be interested in hearing from other book sellers about their purchasing criteria.

In the fiction arena, we get back to the pornography issue. When I first purchased my store, it was a small used book shop, which has now grown into a full service bookstore with a separate mystery bookstore next door. In the beginning, I was very careful about turning away any books that seemed to be too “off-color.” I soon realized that many of the mainstream romance books were pretty spicy, and even authors that used to be safe bets for younger readers were now incorporating rather graphic scenes into their work. Even in the mystery arena, many writers, by their own or their publisher’s choice, seem to add what I call the “two obligatory sex scenes.”  I have become less prudish, and the line between straight fiction and porn has become blurred, so I’ve given up any idea of “filtering” mainstream fiction. I realized when a customer ordered Tropic of Cancer and Lolita for a book club how we evolve; I bought a few extra copies for my Classics section. The best I can do is warn customers who would be truly offended away from certain books. Of course, I can’t read every book, and it is usually just an amusing moment when a customer, usually older, tells me that the latest by an author they’ve been reading for years is “Oh, my goodness, ……”.  

And now we have Fifty Shades of Grey at the top of the bestseller list, published by a well-known mainstream publisher. Ten years ago I would have said there was no way I would sell this book. Evolving standards, both my own and society’s, have blurred what used to be a solid line. The publisher has placed a label, “Erotic Romance – Mature Audience,” on the cover, so the unsuspecting reader who would be offended is warned off.

Booksellers are not bound by the First Amendment issues as governmental bodies are when it comes to making literature available. Instead, commercial necessity and personal values come into play and sometimes into conflict. What I believe shouldn’t affect what others read, but I realize that my beliefs sometimes influence my choices of what to sell and what to recommend. I can think of only a few things I would not sell because of strong aversions to the subject matter, and they are in categories with minimal demand (bomb building, witchcraft, insurrection). I try to keep an open mind about everything else. Sometimes I succeed.

 

BEA Bound

by Erin Mitchell

Happy June! Rabbits!

In a few of days I’m heading to New York to join publishers, booksellers, librarians and authors at the lovely (she says, sarcastically) Javits Center for Book Expo America. Aside from looking forward to paying $6 for a bottle of Diet Coke (have I mentioned how much I’m not impressed with the Javits?), I’m excited both as a reader and as a marketeer.

Wearing my marketing hat, I look forward to seeing how publishers are pitching their catalogs and what snazzy new tools exhibitors are hawking. I also enjoy meeting the media at BEA, mostly because it’s one of the few trade shows that recognizes the Power of the Blogger.

I’ll be at BEA with Sara Blaedel, and it’s her first time there. She’s a Very Big Deal in her native Denmark and other European countries, but American readers are still discovering her stories, and I’m excited to introduce her to librarians, booksellers and bloggers especially.

The other authors I’m giddy about seeing? There’s a list…

I have a mission to meet Gillian Flynn so she can sign a copy of GONE GIRL for Pop Culture Nerd. This is an important operation, and not one to be taken lightly.

It’s always a pleasure to see Michael Connelly, and you just know everyone with a badge will be clamoring for THE BLACK BOX.

Having read Karin Slaughter’s CRIMINAL, I can promise I’ll be all gushy when seeing her.

I have never met either Lawrence Block or Dennis Lehane. After this trip, I’ll be able to cross that off the bucket list.

While their books are wildly different, I can’t help but think of Megan Abbott and Michael Koryta as similar authors, maybe because I adore their stories so. It will be a real pleasure to be able to thank them on behalf of readers everywhere.

It’ll be an exhausting trip, to be sure, but I count myself incredibly lucky to be making it.