A Million Miles of My Town

Last year I received a fancy set of luggage tags from American Airlines, along with a gold colored frequent flyer card because, the accompanying letter explained, I’d reached a million miles flown with them (or the airlines they’d bought over the years) since I’d signed up with the program. A million. Holy crud. A million miles is nothing to my husband, who used to travel for a living, thereby racking up so many miles with the airline his business uses that we flew his entire family down for our wedding party without putting a dent in the pile, but for me….

And still, I find myself typing this on yet another American flight, this one in the belly of a 757. We were delayed, as usual, this time for weather. I can’t remember my last flight that actually took off and landed on time. One or the other, yes, but not both. (Oddly, I think it might have been a few years back on Alitalia, which, as anyone can tell you, is an acronym for Always Late In Takeoff, Always Late In Arrival.) And don’t tell me it’s worse these days, because if you do I will know you walked barefoot five miles to and from school every day as a child. And it was uphill both ways. Yes, security is a bigger pain in the tush now, but flights have always been overbooked, overcrowded, and delayed. Other travelers have always been inconsiderate, loud, and often stinky.

It’s true that airlines have cut back to the point of no return--you pay for your own peanuts, you even pay for your luggage (American’s guilty of starting the luggage thing, but everyone will be doing it soon enough). So you can’t distract yourself by watching the cart come down the aisle and wondering whether there will be meals/snacks left on it when it gets to you--if you want to eat, you’d better bring your own. (You should bring your own anyway; if your flight is stuck on the tarmac for four hours the way mine was a couple weeks ago, do you really want to be sitting there without anything to nibble? Or maybe you do…the Tarmac Diet™, anyone?) The outrage over “they aren’t even feeding us” seems rather trumped up to me, since back when the airlines did feed people all you heard was how the food was completely inedible. Really, meal just served as entertainment.

I must admit to having become a bit jaded after years of traveling for business and pleasure. I won’t stay in a hotel that’s not 100% non-smoking (beware any hotel that doesn’t state up front that the whole building is smoke free--smoke comes up through the air vents and lingers in drapes and carpets), I expect that the car rental place will not have the car I asked for, if they have a car at all (the reservation isn’t a guarantee), and I expect all my flights to be delayed. And yet I still like to look out the window and see the clusters of puffy white clouds on the dark blue sky from above.

Besides, an airplane is the only place left where people aren’t allowed to use their cell phones. Although I fly with earbuds to insulate me from the squalling babies, that knowledge gives me a certain perverse satisfaction.

My Town Monday--for which this post only loosely qualifies, but how many of us have traveled a million miles in our towns?--is a product of the fertile and febrile imagination of Travis Erwin.

Ode to the Murderous Outline

There is hope. Reason to rejoice.

Midway through a fierce streamlining and repeated shuffling of scenes, my manuscript was a shredded mess. My last version of the story was scattered across my kitchen table, looking decidedly disconnected. I was totally incapable of reading it again with a variety of knives so close at hand.

Rather than surrender to my looming hissy fit, I buzzed through my manuscript. I listed characters and events and locale in a chapter by chapter format. Did the pagination thing. By the time I was done, I had a rough-and-tumble outline. I saw where moments/objects were introduced twice, where I'd skipped important clue dropping, where the scene dragged on too long, where a character who just left the scene was still sipping coffee alongside the protag, complaining about the need for more creamer.

Peace was close at hand. Based on my messy outline's chapter notes it felt easier to continue cutting and pasting and deleting and filling in segue snippets. The very idea of an outline gave me stomach cramps when I tried to erect it early on in my writing. Now, at this stage in my writing process, the messy outline was a valuable tool. Next time I plan to sketch the story, write the story, let it lie fallow, read the manuscript, outline the crappy manuscript, rip it apart, swap passages around, add sticky notes where things are missing. Hang on for dear life. Hose myself down, go frolic in the open air, return to the Frankenstein I've created and read through, settling the passages into their proper places as I go. And don't forget to double check the outline, readjusting it as is wont.

Simple. Ha! Maybe not, but it has saved me from imploding as I slogged my way through the reorganized revision. I'm a better soldier now - I mean self-editor.

Way earlier in my manuscript's birthing process I had created a sticky-note outline of my book. Each fresh page was a new chapter. Soon I was using the full spread in my notebook - back of left page across to the top side of the right hand page - to hold all my sticky notes. I tried different colored sticky notes for setting versus characters on stage versus time of day. They were a fairly cheap option. Not for me, however. Those color coded sticky notes were far too complex a system, considering the emergency room nature of my editing needs. Triage! STAT! Transfusion needed on page 137! That sticky note outline now lies in ruins, but I'll likely try that again in my up-coming revision of a different manuscript.

Despite the occasional beating of my head against a brick wall, this approach to outlining the problematic near-final draft seems to be a godsend. Thinking of the outline as a tool to resurrect my plot is a new approach for me. I just might have found a new ally!

Hope your days of rewrites are delightful moments in the garden. I can see you now, gliding along, plucking the occasional weed, pondering the addition of some begonias here and some impatiens there to add a little finesse to the perfectly developed landscape where your characters cavort in a free and fascinating style.

Or at least, so I would hope for all of us.

Until next rant, Write On!

When a Bright Star Fades

About six weeks ago I announced right here that a short story I wrote called “When A Bright Star Fades” was slated to appear in the final issue of Dave Zeltserman’s extraordinary e-zine, Hardluck Stories.

I am delighted to tell you that the 30’s Pulp Noir issue of Hardluck Stories is live! Dave Zeltserman, Ed Gorman, and Jean-Pierre Jacquet have pulled together a gorgeously illustrated razzle-dazzle issue filled with the kind of pulp fiction renowned in the 1930s and 1940s. I am astounded and delighted to be included among the dozen writers contributing to an issue that is the ultimate by so many definitions.

Friends, if you think the "good old days" were an easier, simpler time, grab a cup of tea, or a glass of beer, put your feet up and click here. You are about to find out how wrong you are.

Terrie

Friday Fun June 27, 2008

A state trooper pulled over a car for speeding and the female driver said, "How about I buy some tickets to the Trooper's Ball?"

The trooper responded, "Troopers don't have balls, ma'am."

After he realized what he said, he simply walked back to his car and drove away.

Thaaaaat's All Folks!

Across The River

If I’d been home in New York last weekend, instead of here in hot and humid Florida, I would have wandered Across the River to New Jersey as so many of my writer friends did to attend the 2008 Deadly Ink Conference, widely know for informative workshops given in an intimate and enjoyable setting.

Murder New York Style authors Peggy Ehrhart, M. E. Kemp, Anita Page and Lina Zeldovitch all shared their wisdom on various panels throughout the course of the conference. I am delighted to report that M.E and Lina were two of the five winners in the Deadly Ink Short Story Competition. Each of their stories will appear in the Deadly Ink 2008 Anthology.

More great news. My good friend and writer extraordinaire Cheryl Solimini will be a major player at the conference because (drum roll please) her wonderful mystery, Across the River, is the winner of the 2007 Deadly Ink Unpublished Mystery Award. Cheryl was busy signing “hot off the press” copies in between her participation on several panels.

Here’s a glimpse of the who, what and where of Across the River.

“It's the summer of 1992, and William Jefferson Clinton seems headed for the White House. But not all Baby Boomers are having such a great year. Medical reporter Andrealisa "Andie" Rinaldi has just lost her job at the country's most respected newspaper, her big-city apartment is about to go condo, her long-distance romance with a cell biologist is suffering from travel fatigue, and her twin sister is threatening a relapse of her 'impulse control problem.'

Worse yet, Andie's new employer—the country's least respected celebrity tabloid—has ordered her to cross the river to her tiny hometown and report on a shocking, as-yet-unsolved murder that involves childhood friends . . . and enemies. When a new waterfront apartment complex goes up in smoke and another body is found under the smoldering rubble, Andie wonders if this killing was fueled by the first crime—and if the overheated tabloid stories she's been writing helped fan the flames.

Caught between a rock (the New Jersey Palisades) and a hard place(New York City), Andie finds herself becoming part of the sensational story. Rekindled rivalries and long-ago loyalties force her to confront the ultimate question: Can she go home again?”

The extra fun for me is that Cheryl grew up in the same small town Across the River where I spent many a happy summer visiting relatives, so I know she has the New Jersey/New York thing down pat and if you don’t believe me just ask two prolific authors who are frequently mentioned on Women of Mystery, Chris Grabenstein and Robin Hathaway. They each have given Across the River high marks and much deserved praise.

In a future My Town Monday post I’ll re-visit the small town Cheryl and I remember and remind you again to travel Across the River.

Terrie

Cloudgazing, or What's in a Wordle?

Even if you don't know what a word cloud is, you've probably seen them. It's a visual organization of words based on their prominence within a text. Sometimes, they're even used to show the popularity of a topic on websites.

Now, with Wordle , you can make your own. After you copy and paste whatever text you'd like to display into the box, just hit GO. Once you've got a cloud made, you can decide whether you want all horizontal word arrangements, vertical, any-which-way, various color themes, and fonts. However, if you don't feel like exercising that much fine-tuning, keep pasting and hitting GO until you churn up something randomly fabulous.

Tagcrowd, to which our Laura first introduced me, is a similar program offering more selectivity within the text, such as omitting common words like 'and', or allowing you to link to a site which has the text you want to use, not simply copying and pasting. However, tagcrowd doesn't seem to have as many graphical alternatives for how the final word cloud appears.

The image above is from Wordle's view of my latest silly short story. I pasted all 13,500 words. Since it's romance-y, the greatest prominence is shown in the characters and the physical choreography of their dance toward each other and then apart and then closer still. Hmmm, I'm surprised the words throbbing and heaving didn't show up larger.

In either case, if you're trying to avoid actual writing, or perhaps to discover hidden themes and trends in your WIP, staring at clouds is a heck of a good time.
Go cloud gazing!

2 X 2 and a Question

I've been traveling and having summer-style fun over the last several days. I was in the Myrtle Beach area for our informal annual family reunion where my husband's grandfather and grandmother, 92 and 90 respectively (and married almost 70 years!), preside over a gaggle of aunts and cousins and nieces and nephews. Not much writing happened, my toes and pocket linings found sand, and my reading was of an unambitious nature. Which only means that I learned stuff accidentally, which is almost my favorite way.

The last 2 sentences I wrote before giving up entirely:
She didn’t argue this time, just craned her head to see the phone on the floor. “Four-fifteen.”

Among those I read:
"Oh yeah. We sold the bull semen, but we've still got the plastic corn and acorns and honeycomb and five cartons of earthworms, and there's a package I don't know what's in it but it wants out BAD..."
- from the very entertaining, satirical, and provocative Fallen Angels by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle.

Please feel free to share 2 sentences (of any type) that you read and wrote this week, either in the comments or let us know where to link. The image above is from the Pawleys Island Bi-Lo. If you know what a New Age Beverage is, please also share that with the class. And no, all the bottles were not made of vibration-resonant crystals. I checked that first.

Update: Travis Erwin posts his 2 x 2 s with greasy eggs and bullets.
PreTzel's Place posts bears, skunks, and abdominal pains. Oh my!

George Carlin

May our search for the precise words and clear logic be an homage to George Carlin.

Somehow the words Rest In Peace don't seem applicable.

Keep up the good work, George! That works better. I think I hear laughter snapping in the breeze.

Fire in Texas

For those of you who know our blogger friend Travis Erwin, you might know that he lives in the panhandle of Texas where lightning strikes brought fire raining down from the heavens.

To read about his good luck, check him out at: http://www.traviserwin.blogspot.com

FANS!!!

Nice hot summer day. Good book. Air conditioning. What a joy!

Believe it or not, the only thing better is being out there, at a library (or any other suitable venue), promoting your book through the guise of a panel discussion on writing.

First, I must admit to hating the idea of shilling books. I want to write them, not sell them. I'm not a good salesperson. My Girl Scout cookie sales put me at the bottom of the chart. Likewise for magazine subscriptions that could bring my school some much needed funding. Forget the lemonade stand. I drank my losses - no profits to be had! Now my non-salesmanship is hampering my plan to get an agent. If you drag your feet at getting the query letters out, you don't get far.

Howsome ever, a few years ago I fell into the magic of Sisters In Crime. I then joined the New York/Tri State Chapter and the Guppy Chapter (for Great Unpublished Sisters), which pulled me into Agent Quest and organizing critique groups for the Guppies. I belong to several other writing groups and the MWA, so I'm all wrapped up in support groups. It feels good. From the safety of anonymity, I got lucky enough to have a short story accepted for publication in MURDER NEW YORK STYLE, and then that was nominated for an Agatha for Best Short Story. (Apologies if I've banged that drum too often, but it gets me to where I am now.)

I never expected to do much when it came to selling the anthology. Since 21 of us writers were included in the anthology, I figured I'd do a little, like my Girl Scout cookie-seller share, and others with the flair for selling would fill in the gaps. I never expected to enjoy the selling. What a surprise was in store for me!

Last Saturday I was in upstate New York, at a panel discussion on writing short stories. The event was presented by the local Mavens of Mayhem Chapter of SinC as part of a day long celebration of the arts. My writing pal, M.E.Kemp had invited SinC anthology members to join in. Marilyn (M.E.) is one of those great sales persons with an excellent track record of publication.

The panel discussion was located in the exquisite library that serves the villages of Clifton Park and Half Moon. The audience included the young and the old and in-betweeners, too. We answered the moderator's questions, all five of us panelists, and took audience questions at the end. Once again I found myself in with some well-published authors, and me with solely one published mystery short story to my credit. But I held my own in the entertainment department, and we received a good round of applause at the end.

It's what happens after the panel discussion that's the best: audience members stop and chat. They single you out, raising questions or asking for more information, and suddenly it hits you that you have FANS! People who want to talk with you instead of rushing off to do something else. The audience is full of readers and writers. What a joy to be a sought-out soul! I even like it when someone disputes my point of view. Getting someone involved emotionally with your writing is delightful.

Sally Field said it all. "You like me! You really, really like me!" That realization put a bounce in my step. I had fans! Educated, erudite, discriminating fans! What a delightful way to spend a couple hours on a Saturday, no matter what the weather!

I'm going to do it again.

Maybe I'll bring some Girl Scout cookies along next time and share them with the audience!

Oh, No, Not Mickey Too!

Continuing the grandma theme from my last post, here is an article from the New York Times entitled "Beloved Characters as Reimagined for the 21st Century."

The accompanying pictures, copyrighted by TCFC, show how American Greeting Properties, owner of the Strawberry Shortcake franchise, plan to update her image from 1980 bloomers to 2008 sleek.

And she’s not the only one who’s in for a makeover, According to the article, “Warner Brothers hopes to ‘reinvigorate and reimagine' Bugs Bunny and Scooby-Doo.” And Disney is taking another look at Mickey Mouse.

Industry bigwigs justify their intent with terms like “heritage and innovation” and “modern parents are trying to cocoon their kids . . .” The industry is only thinking of ways to help the consumer. (I chortle at the thought.)

You won’t be surprised that this article appears in the Media and Advertising section of The Times. After all, isn’t that what cartoon characters are all about—making money? And you thought the industry was dedicated to entertaining kids! Silly!

Terrie

Friday Fun June 20, 2008

Return To Sender

A police officer attempts to stop a car for speeding and the guy gradually increases his speed until he's topping 100 mph. He eventually realizes he can't escape and finally pulls over.

The cop approaches the car and says, "It's been a long day and my tour is almost over, so if you can give me a good excuse for your behavior, I'll let you go."

The guy thinks for a few seconds and then says, "My wife ran away with a cop about a week ago. I thought you might be that officer trying to give her back!"

Grandma Waits Patiently

The other day my oldest grandchild, who is just completing kindergarten, was reading to me from an Early Reader book. Of course I was thrilled she was able to read so much of the story with so little help. The book that shall be nameless isn’t my kind of read, but the activity fueled my fantasy of sitting in the rocking chair and having a middle-school aged grandchild read to me from a book we both enjoy, and can pass down the line to my growing flock of grandkids as each reaches the appropriate age.

What kind of books would we enjoy? Funny you should ask. It just so happens that two great friends of Women of Mystery have released wonderful middle school mysteries this month.

Chris Grabenstein is known far and wide for his Jersey Shore series starring Ceepak and Danny, as well as his slightly scarier but just as entertaining Christopher Miller series. Click here to learn about Chris’s adult books.

Now Chris has branched into Young Adult mysteries suitable for eight to thirteen year olds. Take a look at The Crossroads. Young Zack, just moved to a new neighborhood and has one burning question. "Have you ever seen a face hidden in the bark of a tree and known that the man trapped inside wanted to hurt you?" With that opening Chris brings us the same humorous and spine-tingling story telling in The Crossroads as he does in his adult books, without, of course, the vocabulary issues. (His phrase and rightly so!) Click here for some great pictures of Chris.

The other Chris in our lives is the multi-talented Chris Verstraete who thinks no one is ever too old to play with dollhouses, so when she's not writing, she's probably working on a new miniature project. She is an award winning journalist, a world class miniaturist and to my great joy, a brand new novelist. Chris has written the just released and much lauded young adult book, Searching For A Starry Night. Chris manages to bring together her love of miniatures (you have to check out her gallery) and her love of dogs in an exciting mystery starring Samantha, the somewhat reluctant heroine, and Petey, Sam's canine sidekick, as they search for a missing miniature of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Chris has a contest running until July Fourth. Click here to try to win a signed copy of Searching For A Starry Night and a special miniature collector's edition of chapter one made by Lee Ann Borgia.

So I am scoffing up my copies of The Crossroads and Searching For A Starry Night right now. My oldest grandchild will turn eight on August 11, 2010. As soon as she blows out the candles on her cake, I’ll be sitting in the rocker with my pile of YA books waiting to be read. These two will be right on top. And its likely I will have read every page long before the grandkids do.

Terrie

Too Much Information: A Long and Rambling Post

Recently, I posted on a series of forums and listservs asking what people wanted--and didn't want--from authors on their websites. I didn't get very much information back, and what I did get was contradictory.

• Some readers don't want to know about their favorite authors' failing marriages, some do.
• Some readers don't care about the writing process, they only care about the final product, while others find the ins and outs of creative endeavor fascinating.
• Some readers prefer to think of characters and the words they live in as self-generated, or "real." They like websites dedicated to the world of the novel, written in character, with never a break in the fourth wall.

So how is an author to navigate these contradictory opinions? What if your readers fall into the "we don't care about your kid's dyslexia" camp, but he's your son and his dyslexia has an impact on your life? Well, the good news is that readers who don't care about those things can skip them (I know, it seems obvious, but you'd be surprised at how people torture themselves over this stuff), but you do have to provide content for others, too. That is, the readers who don't come for posts about cheesy television depictions of writers may enjoy news about contests, excerpts from works in progress, reviews of almost forgotten books, jokes, jabs, links, multimedia...you get the idea.

Authors sit in a peculiar spot on the privacy continuum. If privacy is possible for anyone in today's society--and I am not at all convinced that it is--it is certainly not possible for authors, at least not for those who want to be financially successful. What part of your life (and I am not asking you to answer this question aloud, just to think about it) do you want to keep private? What part are you absolutely, positively unwilling to share? What part will never, ever appear on your website, no matter how successful your books become?

The answer may turn out to be something you don't expect.

Years ago, when I started blogging, I did so because it was required for my job as an administrator at an academic computing lab. I figured I'd do the minimum--post once a week on subjects related to the job. But it didn't work out that way. And once I started posting on subjects outside the lab, I found that lots of topics I thought would be off-limits...weren't. I wrote about life as an epileptic and as a graduate student and as a New Yorker transplanted to Texas. I wrote about exploratory abdominal surgery and memory loss. I wrote about (I kid you not) being released from the hospital with a catheter in and no bag attached, and not having any idea there was anything wrong with that situation because I was in a postictal state. A lot of people would have said that some of those posts were TMI--too much information--but I also got thank you notes from complete strangers saying "I had no idea a a seizure could affect you that way; now I realize I should see a neurologist."

And just the other day I saw someone mention on a readers' forum that they will continue to read a certain author although they merely like her books nowadays (where once they loved them) because they so strongly support the civil rights causes in which she is active. The author in question hits the NYT bestseller list with every release, and she certainly wasn't so open about her politics early in her career, but she's using her website to speak out about something that is important to her. It made me realize that I was sorry to have given up the more personal side of my original blog.

Why am I rambling on about this stuff? Well, partially because I am in rambling mode. But also partially because I think it's very easy to get caught up in the "rat race" aspects of a writing career, and not just the "book a year contract" Clare discussed earlier. When that happens, it's easy to forget why you got into the race in the first place.

When you ask people when they began writing and why they continue to do it, the answers are fairly uniform: "I've always created stories; I write because I have to." But recently, Jessica Faust posed what I find a much more complex and intriguing question: Why do you seek publication? I can't answer that question. I'm not even sure I want to try. But there's something there about a complex system of community, validation and feedback.

Of course, a group blog is a different animal altogether than a personal website, and has different constraints and different readership. But if you have a website, and a readership you sense falls into the "stay away from TMI" category, you might want to create a section somewhere off the main page for the stuff you need to say--for your own sanity.

Two Sentence Tuesday

It’s always wonderful when a book that a friend recommended turns out to really be good. I’m terrible at lying, even those little white ones. So I’ve been thrilled the past few nights as I’ve been dipping into the first book of a series Laura recommended back in February when she wrote about marketing and promotion. The Flower Shop Mystery Series by Kate Collins is fun, intelligent, and engaging. Like Laura, I highly recommend it.

Here are two lines (really two regular lines and one tiny third line) from Mum’s the Word:

Most people hate Mondays. Not me. I see them as portals to untold prospects, gateways to golden opportunities, pristine canvases awaiting bold splashes of color.

And two lines I found myself writing repeatedly yesterday as I slogged through my overflowing email inbox:

I’m so sorry about my delay in responding to your message. I've been drowning in work as well as struggling with computer problems the past few weeks.

How was your reading and writing week?

MTM: Hometown Punnies

This'll be another barely-qualifying My Town Monday, but I thought it was a hoot. It's long been my contention that some form of Shear Perfection/Elegance/Excellence must be the most popular small-business name ever. At least, there's been a salon named that in every place I've ever lived, usually half a block from the nearest HairPort.

Best Week Ever (via Michelle Collins ) has, at last, collected these gems from all sorts of businesses and posted her 50 best pun stores. It may take a minute to load, but it's worth it. There are a few naughtier ones. I chose to highlight the establishment above, since it has a literary connection, and I consider that the many wonderfully-named Thai restaurants have an unfair advantage by starting with such good phonetic material. I like a pun that stretches till it burns like an angry tendon. (William the Concreter for our historically-minded pals?)

Is there a great, even better pun in your hometown? Please share in the comments, and wander over to Travis Erwin's blog where he always collects more My Town Monday entries.

PSA: SFWA Contest Is A Fake

Via Victoria Strauss:

This week, a call for submissions in a SFWA-sponsored contest was posted on Craigslist and FLiXER, promising large cash prizes and publication.

Writers take warning: this contest is a fake. [emphasis added.]

See Victoria's site for details.

Goonies Come To Life

Image via Fred R. Conrad/New York Times

This whimsical radiator cover is in the bedroom of a New York family's oldest son. Four months after the completion of their apartment's renovation, the Caesar shift cipher within its decoration was the first puzzle to be noticed and unraveled. Throughout the residence, there are 17 more!

Recently, here at WoM, we were discussing puzzles, one of the many draws of crime fiction.

Some people don't care much about the eventual solution and think of elaborate logistical plotting as so-much clinical manipulation, too removed from the human element. And some people love the puzzles enough not to care nearly as much about the other elements of the story. For these readers, I almost think we need a special book rating. "The characters and telling earned 4 bloody daggers, but the climax and wrap-up were only worth 2." For them, a badly thought-out or unbelievable solution kills the fun of the entire ride- like the final hill on the roller coaster turning out to be a puny little slope at 5mph.

But, whatever kind of reader you are, how many of us have dreamed (especially on rainy days) of discovering mysteries within our own homes? I moved a lot as a kid, and every new place merited an exploration of archaeological thoroughness for abandoned treasure, intricate puzzles, and unanswered questions. I was so secretive and careful, I thought, and only learned how universal was the practice with the release of The Goonies, directed by Steven Spielberg who was once a kid himself, I've heard rumored. To me, that movie still captures that kid-ly sense of excitement and adventure, the hunger to discover something hidden beneath the otherwise familiar and everyday.

Should you live in a tony Fifth Avenue apartment with views of Central Park, the mysteries will abound if your architect has painstakingly embedded 18, interlocked enigmas leading to an apartment-wide scavenger hunt. There's even a soundtrack. Read the whole New York Times article here, and by all means, look through the slide show. The hidden compartments are tricky to access, the puzzles sophisticated, and the craftsmanship more like DaVinci Code gizmos than stained shreds of an old pirate map.

Yes! No! Er...Maybe?

I am not sure how to feel about the news, via The Hollywood Reporter, that Fox plans to make a movie of John D. MacDonald's The Deep Blue Good-by. According to the article, they are in talks with director Gary Fleder who is famous for one thriller I never saw (Runaway Jury), one thriller I didn't like (Kiss The Girls) and one movie I didn't understand that gave me a headache (Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead). I'm not sure whether that last one was a thriller or not.

I've mentioned here before that MacDonald was one of the first mystery writers I ever read, and I've been a little in love with Travis McGee my whole life. Part of me has always wondered why McGee never made it onto the screen, either big or small. But part of me has always feared he'd end up completely miscast or misdirected. So this news fills me with hope and fear.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

From May 1995 to June 1996, the New York Public Library held an exhibit called Books of the Century commemorating the most inspiring fiction and non-fiction books of the previous one hundred years.

The booklist spans from Einstein’s The Meaning of Relativity (like I would understand what he was talking about ) to The Holy Bible, Revised Standard Edition (which I do take to heart.) Among the mix, there is a book that shows us the clear, direct story of the Nolan family who lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in the early 1900s. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn written by Betty Smith was published in 1943.

I was still in grammar school the first time I read “Tree” and I was captivated on page one. When the book opens it is 1912, Francie Nolan is eleven years old. Four hundred pages later, Francie is seventeen. Much has happened and all the Nolans have changed, for the years have not been easy. The joyfulness of the story is in Francie herself. She has a grand resolve to learn from what is around her, to define her goals and to move toward them.

Halfway through the book we find this line which tells us what we most need to know about Francie's character. “It was at a Thanksgiving time that Francie told her first organized lie, was found out and determined to become a writer.” Francie Nolan recognizes early that if she learns the lessons of life’s twists and turns, she will reach the things that matter to her—education and the freedom to write about life as it really is, not life as the glossy essay her teachers require.

When I picked up the book from the library the other day, I intended to flip through it just to refresh my memory, after all, the second time I read it was barely some twenty odd years ago when my daughter read it. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is not that kind of book. There is no flipping through it. A re-reader can’t help but delight in every scene, every anticipation, as in, “Oh, I remember that, and next comes the part where . . .”

When I mentioned in a blog post a few days ago that I was going to discuss “Tree” today, our own Clare 2E and Bill Crider both mentioned there was once a movie, which held true to the book. I searched the Queens Borough Public Library website and am happy to report that there is a copy at a branch not far from my house. There’s one more item for my “got to do it for myself list.”

Patti Abbott keeps track of all the Forgotten Book posts. Check here to see which beloved books are being resurrected around the blogosphere this week. And if you have a book you’d like to remind us to read, just drop Patti a note in her comments section and she will add you to the group.

Terrie

Are you Speedy?

Image via Wiki and Warner Bros.

From the Boston Globe:

In an age when reading for pleasure is declining, book publishers increasingly are counting on their biggest moneymaking writers to crank out books at a rate of at least one a year, right on schedule, and sometimes faster than that.

Many top-selling writers, such as John Grisham and Mary Higgins Clark, have turned out at least one book annually for years. Now some writers are beginning to grumble about the pressure, and some are refusing to comply...

There's no question that is a high-class problem which many of us would love the opportunity to confront. Still, every writer does have her own rhythm and tempo, especially for book-length works. Does producing a novel a year sound like a grind or a vacation to you?

Watching Writers

I mentioned recently that I've been watching a lot of TV of late due to some faulty wiring in my brain that has prevented me from doing much of anything else. Among the shows I enjoy and that is on several times a day in syndication is Law and Order: Criminal Intent. But the last week, USA aired an episode that made me wonder:

a) what drugs the writers were on when they wrote it
b) where I could get some of those drugs
c) whether non-writer viewers saw the show the same way I did

The episode was called "Self-made" [SPOILER ALERT: Link is to a complete synopsis that reveals all]. To give you a sense of what made me want to play in the CI writers' medicine chest, I'll describe the beginning of the show. A young, unpublished author goes to a club where she's going to read a short story. Her friends wish her well. Afterwards, she's surrounded by people who tell her how great she is. An agent she's never met arrives and whisks her away in his limousine, so impressed by her short story that he's just got to sign her as a client for the novel he's sure she's about to write.

I am sure the CI writers had a great time coming up with that episode, which gets even better, if you can believe it. (I'd tell you to download the episode and watch it, but I don't know how you can--I only know how to do that with shows that are on networks that are iTunes-friendly, and NBC's networks are in a tiff with Apple at the moment.) The episode focuses on false memoirs and one-shot wonder authors, based--as so many L&O episodes are--on contemporary issues, but clearly the writers weren't attempting to examine these issues seriously as they sometimes do. Because these guys write for a living. They don't write memoirs, or literary fiction (the other focus of the episode), but they do know the realities of "the business." No, this was pure camp. Or wish fulfillment. Or deep delving into the medicine chest.

Do you have any favorite depictions of writers or the publishing industry on TV or in movies or, for that matter, in books? Ones that you think are wildly unrealistic or quite close to the truth?

A Great Source of Info

We Women of Mystery recently made the collective decision that we would apply for membership in Graham Powell's Crime Spot. It's sort of a blog roll, or blog aggregator, which is a broad term for a site or software that captures updates from a lot of sources in one place. The difference with CrimeSpot is that isn't a program or web browser per se that alerts you to updates as they happen, "pushing them to you." You can wander over at your leisure and meander through all the links that Graham provides.

Crime Spot is wonderfully useful as a a central catch-all and referral site. I sent an email requestiong consideration to Graham the other day. Rather than waiting to see if we make the cut and then surprising you with a big announcement, I decided to introduce you to Crimespot now because I know you love news about the art of writing, the business of writing, reviews and interviews, and all sorts of industry patter, and that makes Crime Spot a place you should visit.

Clare2E contributed to this article. Any errors in explaining how things work are mine and not hers.

Terrie

Two Sentence Tuesday

Last night I finished reading Of All Sad Words by Bill Crider. This is the first book I’ve read in Crider’s hugely successful Sheriff Dan Rhodes series, and it is the most recent, clocking in at number fifteen. That makes me a happy reader since I am sure by the time I rummage through the other fourteen, Bill will have Sheriff Dan and Ivy and Hack and Lawton and Ruth busy doing things that frustrate Judge Parry and annoy Commissioner Mikey Burns, all the while solving one crime spree or another.

Here’s a two sentence sample:

“If his hair hadn’t been so thin, he might have been able to grow it longer and cover up the mangled ear, or what was left of it. It hadn’t improved any since Rhodes had shot most of it off, and Rapper wasn’t trying to hide it.”

And here’s something I wrote:

“Carrie absentmindedly pulled off a clip-on earring and pushed the portable phone tighter against her ear. She still didn’t recognize the man’s voice.”

And while we’re talking about writing and reading, I want to remind you that Patti Abbott has organized Friday’s Forgotten Books. Every Friday lots of readers and writers post a blog about a book that they have read in the past. The point is to remind everyone that these old books are still around, and still have plenty of reading pleasure to give. If you have a book or two like that in your life, pick a Friday to post and then let Patti know and she’ll link to your blog. I happen to think of this because Bill Crider has done a few. Other recent contributors include Laura Lippman, Ken Bruen, Sarah Weinman, Lonnie Cruse, Sandra Scoppottone, and Declan Burke. I reserved A Tree Grows in Brooklyn at the library to read as my next Forgotten Book. Every teacher in New York must have assigned it for a book report, so I was on a waiting list behind a lot of people who are just the age I was when I first read it so long ago, but I finally got a copy and can report to you soon.

On several earlier Two Sentence Tuesdays my contributions were from the story “When A Bright Star Fades” which I bragged about here over the weekend. You’ll have to guess which contributions were from Bright Star because I'm not telling until the final edition of Hardluck Stories comes out.

If you have two sentences read and/or written, you can put them in the comments or post them on your blog. Give me a shout and I’ll link to your sentences.

Terrie

My Town - Surviving Summer Sizzle

It's steamy and my brain's pretty much shot. And irritable? My husband's lucky he's away this week. I have only the cats to take it out on, but they're too zonked by the heat to misbehave. Temporarily warned off the roads by conspiring doctors, I'm without wheels. I'm making due with the Breyers mint chip my husband thoughtfully supplied, but a mountaintop mirage calls: the town of Warwick's very own Bellvale Creamery (see waffle cone).

The Creamery is perched atop Mt. Peter on 17A between Greenwood Lake and the hamlet of Bellvale. It's just beyond the Appalachian Trail and across from a Hawk Watch, well before the first apple orchard. (Find map and directions and a menu of current flavors here.)

Without bothering friends and neighbors - all watching their waists or anticipating a blood test for cholesterol - I can't indulge, nor snap my own photos of the valley view. Here's an image I found on the internet, shot from the Creamery's picnic area. Of course you can't get the full effect, nor appreciate the breathtaking sunsets and miles of preserved farmland.

On to the ice cream! We're talking fresh dairy cream, people. No fake flavorings or sweeteners. No preservatives. I've done a poll. Bellvale Bog's the hands down favorite. It's mine as well, but I like to cut the dark chocolate ice cream (with brownie chunks and chocolate swirl) with Great White Way. (That's white chocolate ice cream with dark chocolate chunks and raspberry swirl.) Drooling yet?

The Creamery draws diverse crowds. Occasionally bus loads pull in carrying escapees from the city's sultry heat. In heat waves like this one a good humored crowd lines up, waxing enthusiastic, to merge politely at the door.

Which brings me to crime, and how great ice cream - contrary to the suspect statistics showing a correlation between ice cream sales and murder - can soothe the beast within. Although it does not, apparently, produce the same effect on ice cream truck drivers (check out the results of my Google search here!) who, I'm quite sure, are driven mad by the sunny, tinkling music they can't escape. Nor does it always tame the foul children who frequent these vendors (check out Eddie Murphy's hilarious ice cream skit.)

If you've found incredible ice cream where you live and would like to run a competition, it's possible we'll locate a few objective judges. I'm betting on the Creamery. (Try the coconut?)

Find more My Town Monday posts at Travis' site, including his own about small towns in Texas, video and all.

- Lois

Banville on Simenon

If you're a fan, as I am, of the 1940s-50s detective stories of Paris's Inspector Maigret, here's an L.A. Weekly article by acclaimed novelist John Banville (aka Benjamin Black in his crime writer's fedora) who discusses the persistent appeal of Georges Simenon's novels in their deceptive simplicity and stark humanity.