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

The Book That Should Have Won

by Erin Mitchell

Last night crime fiction’s glitterati came out in force for the 2013 Edgar Awards. I don’t usually give a hoot about awards of any sort, but this time, there was one book in the running that I was really pulling for.

Which is not to say I didn’t care at all about other nominees and categories. I was thrilled that reviewer Oline Cogdill was receiving a Raven. I like the TV show Sherlock, and so was happy it won. I think Karin Slaughter’s short stories are exceptional—she has a gift for the form—and I cheered when she won for “The Unremarkable Heart.” LIVE BY NIGHT is some of the finest storytelling I’ve had the privilege to read in recent memory, and Dennis Lehane is deserving of every accolade he receives. I really wanted to see DEVIL IN THE GROVE win, but (I think) I understand why it didn’t, and, hey, it did just win a Pulitzer.

That said…

The Best Critical/Biographical category included four nominees. Three of them are books about series, authors, and characters that have impacted the crime fiction genre beyond measure: Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe, Robert B. Parker’s Spenser, and Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. The last nominee was BOOKS TO DIE FOR, a compendium of essays from almost 120 crime fiction authors about their favorite crime novels. It describes itself best, in the introduction to the book:

This is not a pollsters' assembly of popular novels, compiled with calculators and spreadsheets. Neither is it a potentially exhausting list of titles that winds back to the dawn of fiction, chiding the reader for his or her presumed ignorance in the manner of a compulsory reading list handed out in a bad school at the start of summer to cast a pall over its students' vacation time. What we sought from each of the contributors to this volume was passionate advocacy: we wanted them to pick one novel, just one, that they would place in the canon. If you found them in a bar some evening, and the talk turned (as it almost inevitably would) to favorite writers, it would be the single book that each writer would press upon you, the book that, if there was time and the stores were still open, they would leave the bar in order to purchase for you, so that they could be sure they had done all in their power to make you read it.

And the winner was…THE SCIENTIFIC SHERLOCK HOLMES, penned by an emeritus professor of chemistry, Dr. James O’Brien, which The New York Times described as:

…a stolid academic treatise, rife with abbreviations

Huh. Now, I haven’t read this treatise, nor do I plan to. From what I’ve read about it, I’m sure Dr. O’Brien worked hard on it, and it’s probably interesting to people who care about science and have at least a passing interest in Sherlock Holmes.

But here’s the rub: BOOKS TO DIE FOR is a book by readers, for readers. It celebrates with abandon books both famous and less well known. The essays it contains are a joy to read. A century from now, people will still be reveling in BOOKS TO DIE FOR.

Editors John Connolly and Declan Burke, assisted by the immensely talented Clair Lamb, created an extraordinary work in BOOKS TO DIE FOR, and it was no feeble undertaking. The authors who contributed are from all corners of our planet, and the finished product runs to 700-some odd pages. It documents a moment in time insomuch as each contributor approached his or her essay as a reader, but it spans our entire reading consciousness, documenting our collective.

I would like to think that ultimately, even awards handed out by industry associations and attended by insiders are about celebrating readers and the stories that thrill them. This is exactly what BOOKS TO DIE FOR does.

Luckily, it is not dependent on any recognition other than readers’ eyes and enthusiasm to do this. At Bouchercon last year, there was a signing event that included many of the BOOKS TO DIE FOR contributors that was, predictably, mobbed. The authors were in fine form—each of them patient and funny as they chatted with those in a queue that seemed never-ending. The palpable excitement that afternoon is why BOOKS TO DIE FOR should have won an Edgar, but will endure regardless.

p.s.: As much as I’m not an affable loser, I should be clear that the aforementioned editors are incredibly gracious, and when they say, “it’s an honor just to be nominated,” I’m quite certain that they mean it. The sentiments herein are mine alone.

Beware of False Gurus

by Erin Mitchell

It’s been quite a few weeks…ones that have given social media denizens more than enough to talk about. From the unimportant, like Unilever telling women to how to think—or not think—about their bodies to hard news events that have impacted many of us directly and indirectly, one thing has become painfully clear: It is impossible to spit these days without hitting a Guru.

It’s relatively simple to trace the history of social media back more than a decade. If you’re reading this, then you have access to the vast interwebs, which means you also know that social media is in a state of constant flux. As a result, some of us use social media these days, while others gravitate toward social media.

And here’s the news flash: Neither is wrong. There are no rules. Opinions vary.

Following the bombing in Boston, as had happened after the shootings in Sandy Hook, some folks chose to let their scheduled tweets and posts run. And some took objection to this. The most famous example is self-proclaimed guru extraordinaire Guy Kawasaki, whose perfectly arrogant response to those who suggest he pause his incessant stream of scheduled tweets probably won’t affect his book sales one iota. But I was surprised how many people came out of the virtual woodwork to lay down the law as to How to Do Social Media Right.

To be fair, after Sandy Hook, I used this very platform to suggest that when tragedy strikes, scheduled marketing should be paused. I hope I wasn’t mean or school-marmish when I did so, and if I was, I apologize. Because ultimately there are no rules, just opinions.

I have no quarrel with tools that allow brands and people to schedule tweets and posts. To me, social media is just that: A form of media. It is not a party, a fete, a gathering, or jamboree. That said, I use it for social interaction quite often. But that’s my choice. If you can’t be live and in virtual person all the time in all the outlets, I don’t think this means you should forego them completely. 

You can use the tools available—including getting help with content—in a manner that is transparent, and therefore no less genuine.

I schedule posts and tweets for clients. I have no problem being up-front about this. I also schedule blog posts, and for some clients, have their Twitter and/or Facebook accounts linked to their blogging platform, so that when these posts go live, word is spread through all the (social) media channels available.

I also choose to pause these when a major hard news story breaks, mostly because at that time, nobody really cares about anything other than that news story. So posting content then is pretty much a waste of time. If you’re an author (or publisher, for that matter) who chooses to carry on with “BUY MY BOOK” tweets and posts in the face of news like this, I’d suggest you reconsider.

And while we’re talking rules, some of you might have seen this nonsense about manual vs. not retweets. Despite what this post says, it’s fine to share information however you see fit. Whomever originated the information you’re sharing should just be grateful you do.

Ode to Serials

by Erin Mitchell

Most of the time, I'm pretty certain I was born in the wrong decade. Not that there was anything wrong with the 1970s, but in many ways I feel much more connected to the 1950s. All the Heywood-Wakefield furniture in our house, for example, as well as the house itself, is from the 50s. I'm drawn to artwork from that era. I love reading books set in and that were written in that timeframe (reference: Ed McBain and John D. MacDonald). Heck, I even prefer cars, trains, and boats to air travel. Many of my social attitudes are more suited to the 50s, too. And my love of the artistic forms of that time translates as well to my appreciation for serialized stories.

Some years back I enjoyed reading Laura Lippman's THE GIRL IN THE GREEN RAINCOAT. When I wrote to her to tell her how much I'd liked it, she mentioned that it had been originally serialized in the New York Times. While I had missed this original publication, I wasn't surprised, because the structure of the story lends itself to being read in bits.

As most things do, serialized stories are gearing up for a comeback. Considering that many of us communicate these days in 140-character tweets and Facebook photo captions, this makes sense. From a practical perspective, too, many readers do so in settings—public transportation or waiting rooms come immediately to mind—that are suited to shorter bursts of reading.

Amazon has quietly launched Kindle Serials, and I have it on good authority that they will be feeding it with some exciting content in the coming months. I also heard a reliable rumor that Crimespree Magazine will be serializing novels starting soon. These examples represent two models—paid and free—each of which has marketing pros and cons. They share one important thing, though: a serialized story builds reader loyalty.

I'm a fan of serials because they exercise a portion of my brain that modern rapid-fire short-form communication tends to atrophy. When I read a portion of a story and then have to wait a week for the next, the brain files it under "remember this." I pay more attention to details that I might otherwise miss. I feel more engaged in the story because I'm following along, pausing to consider each installment before getting to the next.

And while delivery methods have evolved, serials hearken back to a time when the world was a bit slower, more considered, we didn't necessarily need it all right now, and we took the time to revel in a great story. 

Crime-Filled Wonderland

Last year, I had a bunch of fun rewriting the lyrics to The Night before Christmas. So much fun, in fact, that I decided this should be a tradition. And since you're reading this, chances are good the world has yet to end (hooray!) so here goes...

This year, crime fiction takes to Winter Wonderland, which was first published in 1934, composed by Felix Bernard with lyrics by Richard B. Smith. I hope they would forgive me for borrowing their song.

The characters and books you’ll see referenced below are some of my favorites I’ve read this year. Some are making repeat appearances from last year and others are new…regardless, I am immensely grateful to the authors for their stories. The links below lead to their websites; I hope you’ll check them out, especially if you don’t recognize the references.

Whatever you celebrate this season, may it be joyous, peaceful, merry, and bright.

Sirens blare, are you listening
In the alley, blood is glistening 
A troublesome sight
We're frightened tonight
Walking in a crime filled wonderland

Gone away is the hunter guiding 
Here to stay are spirits hiding 
Sam hunts for a soul 
Down in a hole 
Walking in a crime filled wonderland.

In Vesterbro we can build a snowman 
And pretend that she’s Amanda Wagner 
She'll say: Have you solved it?
We'll say: No ma’am, 
But we hope Tom Thorne 
Will help when he's in town

Later on, we'll conspire, 
As Clete sits in the cross fire 
Joe knows we’re afraid 
Despite plans that we've made,
Walking in a crime filled wonderland

On Heart Island we can build a snowman 
And pretend that he's football coach 
We'll have lots of fun with mister coach, man 
Until the other criminals knock him down

When we read, ain't it thrilling
As we learn about a killing
We’ll follow the case, the detective way
Walking in a crime filled wonderland.

A Time to Stop

I was just about to post this week’s witty, somewhat tongue-in-cheek piece today when I heard the news from Connecticut.

Now, I have just one thing to say:

If you’re reading this as anyone who promotes anything, chances are good you schedule email blasts, posts, status updates, and tweets. When you created the schedule, you didn’t know what would be happening now.

But unless you live under a rock—and perhaps even if you do—you know now. And now is not the time to promote anything. Please, hit “pause.” If you could schedule something, you can delay it. If you’re working hard on your next promotional/publicity activity, it can wait. It should wait. It must wait.

Now is simply not the time.

Use that energy to go find someone you love and hug them instead.

Thank you.