Showing posts with label On other authors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label On other authors. Show all posts

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Cutting the cake: A celebration of SinC with Rhys Bowen

The Speed City chapter of Sisters in Crime yesterday was proud to host a day with bestselling author Rhys Bowen as we celebrated the 30th anniversary of SinC.

And Rhys, as you can see, was happy to take a stab at cutting the first piece of the anniversary cake. She was a very good sport.


Plus, since I drove her around all day, we had a lot of time to talk. She offered me wonderful suggestions on improving my craft and on getting an editor and publisher for my work.

Thanks, Rhys, for everything.

And thanks for reading.

Monday, February 20, 2017

I'll be Mother: A tea with bestselling author Rhys Bowen

I was fortunate last year to be elected president of the Speed City chapter of Sisters in Crime for 2017. And while to some, Sisters in Crime may sound like a group of recovering female prison convicts, it is, in fact, an international organization of writers of crime and mystery. I am very proud to the chapter's first male president. 

So I am a mister/sister, and this year the organization, the voice for excellence and diversity in crime writing for decades, is celebrating its 30th anniversary.

The Speed City chapter of SinC is hosting internationally renowned author Rhys Bowen at a British tea and at a book signing on Saturday, Feb. 25, at the Barnes and Noble book store on the north side of Indianapolis.

I am currently reading In Farleigh Field, a mystery Bowen set in England in 1941. Full of British upper class intrigue and spies, the novel officially launches on an Amazon imprint next week.

I read her Twelve Clues of Christmas back in December and was both surprised and delighted by the high-spirited young heroine, Georgiana Ranook. As the main character in Bowen's Her Royal Spyness series, Georgie, who was 35th in line to the British throne, was fun to read and discover. What also surprised me was that I was so into the book, which was set in the early 1930s in western England, that I didn't figure out the clues to the mystery until Rhys hit me over the head with them, despite the title of the book.

In addition to the book signing and book fair at B&N at 5 p.m. on Saturday, Speed City is also hosting Bowen with a British tea from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m., also on Saturday. Co-sponsored with the College Park Book Club, the tea is in the College Park Community Clubhouse on Fordham Road in Indianapolis, in the shadow of the College Park pyramids.

It's at the tea when we will officially celebrate 30 years of Sisters in Crime.

I hope you can come out to one or more of the events on Saturday. It will be fun and I'm looking forward to it -- and to meeting a world-class mystery writer. And when the time comes, I will try to make sure that, as I pour Rhys her first cup of tea, I say, "I'll be mother."

Thanks for reading.


 

Monday, January 19, 2015

ABNA

Read the announcement today that Amazon this year is not hosting its annual Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. ABNA is probably now gone forever.

That makes me sad. It was a fun contest that not offered a slim chance of getting a publishing contract, but it also was a great gathering place for authors like me to meet and befriend each other. A large number of my Facebook friends are from ABNA. Only one have I ever met face-to-face -- and then only once and briefly.

I will miss that -- getting ready for the contest, chatting with the others, offering and receiving advice on my writing, offering and receiving encouragement when the inevitable comes.

There are forums with former participants but it won't be the same as during the late winter and into the spring when the contest unfolds. It was a gathering of like-minded people who cheered each other on and cried with each other when elimination came.

Last fall, Amazon announced a "reader-powered publishing platform" called Kindle Scout and encouraged past contestants to consider that as a publishing option. In today's announcement, Amazon mentioned Kindle Scout again.

I'm assuming the company feels that is a better and more cost-effective method of finding new authors and new voices. And now, without the contest, I guess I may pursue that.

But regardless of the outcome, I doubt it will be as much fun as the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. Sorry to see it go.

But onward and upward

Thanks for reading and keep up the writing.  

Monday, January 12, 2015

A book I just read

I just finished a novel by Felicia Mason, a native of Pennsylvania now living in Virginia (according to her bio). the book is call Hidden Riches, and I loved it.

In October, my wife's book club read my unpublished mss, The Last Tontine Survivor, which is a thriller. In November, they read Hidden Riches. And after my wife finished, I decided to read it, although I didn't get around to it until last week.

Wow, what a wonderful book. It's about three siblings who travel back to North Carolina for the funeral of their estranged sister, Ana Mae, who was a domestic, and are forced to stay to discover the unknown hidden riches Ana Mae left behind, including nearly $4 million.

It a great book with great characters, particularly Ana Mae, who's dead, and the deceased younger sister JoJo. Plus it has a wonderful surprise ending.

Well done, Felicia.

Superb!

Thanks for reading.

Friday, July 4, 2014

MWA University

I probably shouldn't post a blog today because it's a holiday and no one is probably reading me today. But, on the other hand, I don't have many steady readers to begin with so it probably doesn't matter that much.

As you know, I went to MWA University in Philadelphia last weekend and had a wonderful time. I learned so much and met so many wonderful people. It was well worth the time and effort.

Of the six sessions -- and all of them were great -- there were two that were particularly useful.

First thing in the morning was Jess Lourey, whose topic was What to do after the idea. Lourey, a writing and sociology professor in Minnesota and the author of the Murder-by-Month mystery series, takes the pyramid approach to writing a novel. Through six steps, she starts with a one-sentence summary of the novel, then works her way into an expanded paragraph summary, creating a character bible, sketching a setting, doing a second one paragraph summary, outling the novel and, finally, actually writing the book.

Sounds like a lot, and it is. But the great thing about all the sessions was the teachers reminded us that they were giving us 'tools, not rules.' Use what you can and throw out the rest.

I don't care for outlining, although during NaNoWriMo I do outline. But what I took most from her were steps one and three -- the one-sentence summary and the character bible. It reinforced that I must be able to describe my work in one sentence and must be able to do it from the beginning. And I will know and understand my characters best by listing all their traits so I won't be forced into having to remember them all.

The other session I found particularly helpful was on character and was taught by the very funny Reed Farrel Coleman, who I enjoyed so much I friended him later on Facebook.

Coleman, who apparently doesn't outline, he says character is arguably the most memorable element of a mystery novel. Crimes come and go but it's the characterizations readers remember most. As I think of novels I enjoy, particularly if they are part of a series, the characters are what I remember most, not the plot. I have read loads of Sherlock Holmes, lots of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series, Sue Grafton, the late William F. Buckley's Blackford Oakes series, and others, And in most cases, characterization is what sticks out most.

Coleman said think of a character's most closely held and embarrassing secret. Even if it is never revealed, it helps the writer to understand the character and to write them with more depth, even if they are only minor characters. Of all the 20 Stephanie Plum novels, I only remember the plot in the third of the series. It is Stephanie, Lula, Joe, Ranger and all the others that I actually remember.

So there you have it. I wanted to write sooner but it's been a busy week.

Have a Happy Fourth of July everyone. And thanks for reading.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Mystery Writers of America University -- Philadelphia

I'm attending Mystery Writers of America University in Philadelphia tomorrow. It's a one-day event with an incredible lineup of teachers, including Hallie Ephron, Reed Farrel Coleman and the wonderful Hank Phillipi Ryan.

When I first heard about this one-day conference two months ago, I knew I had to come. The price is quite reasonable and it's in Philadelphia. I love Philadelphia, having once lived in the City of Brotherly Love for two decades.

And I'll have the grilled chicken with roasted peppers for lunch, thank you very much.

What I want to know -- and what I doubt any of the teachers will be able to tell me -- is how can I move forward in my writing career. Yes, it takes hard work and persistence. It takes learning the craft and networking. I know all that. And I have done that -- some parts more than others but I have done it all. I still do. Otherwise, I wouldn't spend the time, effort and money to attend MWA University.

But something is missing and I don't know what it is or how to get it.   

So I will go and listen, and learn, and ask questions, and talk, and network -- and have grilled chicken for lunch. I will do it all. I love being around writers, both the wildly successful and the aspiring unknown. It reminds me I am on a path. I tire of the path sometimes, even become discouraged. But I am always committed to it.

I am a writer, and that is that.

So lookout for me tomorrow Jess Lourey and Daniel Stashower. I'll be in the house and hanging on every word. So make it good.

Thanks for reading.  

Monday, March 11, 2013

ABNA

Tomorrow is March 12, and it's the day Amazon will announce the quarterfinalists in this year's Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. The contest will be down to only 500 contestants out of 10,000 entries. I know those who made it through Round One are sitting on pins and needles right now waiting to learn if they advance or if they go home.

I entered ABNA this year with The Last Tontine Survivor, the same novel I entered last year. I was knocked out in the pitch round last year and so I re-wrote and improved my pitch this year. Or at least I thought it was much-improved. I was quite hopeful for this novel this year.

However, I was eliminated again in the first round this year.

But as usual, I met a lot of wonderful aspiring novelists on the ABNA discussion boards, which is a rich benefit of the contest. And it seemed like a lot of others are self-published, through Create Space or through one of the other many platforms.

My brother asked me last week whether I was really to be self-published. I told him of course I am ready because frankly it doesn't take much. With as little as a couple hundred dollars and manuscript, anyone can get published.

What I want is some editorial and marketing help to get my writing career beyond the starting gate. For me, I'm not sure self-publishing can do that for me right now.

Anyway, back to ABNA, I have a friend from my writing critique group who made it past the pitch stage this year and he is hoping to make the quarterfinals. It's a good novel with some great promise.

So, Good Luck, Michael. I hope you go all the way.

As for me, I will try in again next year with an all-new novel, which I am still working on. Perhaps next year at ABNA will be my year.

Thanks for reading and keep writing.

EDITOR'S NOTE:
My friend Michael Eldridge made the cut today and is a quarterfinalist in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest. His novel is called Bad Karma, and if you go to Amazon.com, you can find an excerpt of the beginning of the novel that you can download and read.
Another interesting note. Our critique group, In Mysterious Company, has had an ABNA quarterfinalist in each of the last three competitions. Michael made it this year, Marianne Halbert made it last year and I was a quarterfinalist in 2011.
mbd

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

ABNA finalists for 2012

The three general fiction and three young adult fiction finalists in this year's Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest were announced yesterday. Congratulations to all six of you. Enjoy the next two weeks as Amazon customers read your excerpts and vote. And good luck to you all.

The finalists in the general fiction category are: Alan Averill (The Beautiful Land), Charles Kelly (Grace Humiston and the Vanishing), and Brian Reevers (A Chant of Love and Lamentation).

You will notice all the finalists in this category are men. But women, keep the faith because the finalists in the young adult category are: Cassandra Griffin (Dreamcatchers), Rebecca Phillips (Out of Nowhere), and Regina Sirois (On Little Wings).

And you noticed only females made the finalist in YA this year.

Not sure who I favor in general fiction. Haven't read any of them. (And they had all better be better than my entry this year.) But I have a favorite in YA, though I won't say who.

We will just have to see.

Thanks for reading and keep writing.

Monday, May 7, 2012

In the beginning . . .

A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.

Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)


This is very true. Where to start is an arbitrary thing. But it also an important element of storytelling.

As I look at novels today -- and, more importantly, as I consider the advice of other writers, agents and higher ups  in the literary food chain -- I see that modern novels need to have some action very near the beginning. I don't always think that is the best approach but what you hear is that there needs to be action near the beginning to hook the reader in.

That is why I shortened the first chapter of both my last two novels in order to get to some action sooner.

But the actual beginning is still somewhat arbitrary. With The Last Tontine Survivor, I kill off an old guy in the first three pages. But there is a reason for his death dating back seven decades. While I do cover that period later in the novel, I could have started there.

And the ending -- the bad guys are vanquished and the protag survives. But she is entering a new phase in her life and I could have written a little more about what that happens to be.

I like the way the Harry Potter series starts and finishes. It doesn't start when Harry is born, or just before them, when his parents are terrible danger. It starts when Harry is 15 months old, on the day his parents are murdered. (That's Oct. 31, 1981, just in case you were wondering.) And at the end, there is an epilogue, which set 19 years into the future. Or, more correctly, 19 years after the conclusion of most dramatic events of the series. (Which means, the last scene in the last book won't occurred for another five years, in Septemeber 2017.) But even then, Harry and his friends are only in their mid- to late-30s, and presumably have much more life to live. And more stories to tell.

While I sometimes struggle with where to start, I generally know where to stop. It's at the end, which is where I am now.

So thanks for reading and keep writing.

The End

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Having trouble with this format

I'm having a little trouble figuring out the new format on Blogger. As the person doing the blog -- not just writing it online -- I'm not sure where things are on my blog, and not how i go about finding them. It's somewhat easier today but it's still strange and new, not two words I am always comfortable with.

On other news, a friend from my critique group who made the quarterfinals in this year's Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest unfortunately failed to make the semifinals this week. I saw her yesterday at our critique group meeting and she seems to be taking it as well as can be expected. By the time you reach the quarterfinals, you begin to seriously think of making it to the end. But then, when you dreams are dashed (as mind were at this point last year in ABNA), it still stings a little. I feel sorry for her but I tried to be supporter. After all, I know what you is going through.

Also in other news, I started a blog draft last week about Amazon and the publishing industry. I should post it soon. It should be interesting, so be on the look out.

Lastly, not only did I break my single month record for pageviews, I doubled the previous record -- and the month isn't finished yet. We have another four days to go. And more and more pageviews are of recent posts. So I must be getting more readers. I hope so.

That's it for now. I gave my critique group a new short story yesterday. Will hear their comments in two weeks. Sending out query letters for The Last Tontine Survivor. Haven't heard anything yet. My short story for the next Sisters in Crime anthology isn't panning out, so I will try something else.

Thanks for reading and don't stop writing.



Monday, April 9, 2012

The 100 best first lines

More than a year ago I came across a list of the 100 Best First Lines in novels, as decided by the American Book Review, a nonprofit journal published at the Unit for Contemporary Literature at Illinois State University. This is mostly literary fiction and goes back as far as the 17th century. But there are novels from the 21st century.

First lines are difficult. You want to get them right because they can propel the reader further into the novel. But getting the length, tone, structure, language, feeling and all the other elements correct is a very difficult task.

From the list below, which starts with truly the best first line (from Melville's Moby Dick), I tend to think the best lines are short and descriptive. Some are punchy, some not so much. The truly long ones, such as No. 95 (Double or Nothing) are boring.

Of my novels, my famous first line is from An Untidy Affair. It goes: I'm sometimes called a dick and I abhor the term.

Actually, I thought of it a week before I wrote it down because I knew it was going to be a first-person POV of a struggling private eye, but I hadn't worked out the entire story yet. I didn't want to start it before I knew the end.

I'm going to post the entire list below -- and mention the copyright at the end -- but here are the numbers of some of my favorites: Nos. 6, 13, 18, 26, 29, 38, 39, 40, 49, 54 (which I truly believe), 61, 62, 65, 80, 81, 94 and 99. I won't even begin to mention the ones I hate.

What are some of your favorites on this list? Are there some you think should be on the list that aren't? You can let me know.

Anyway, enjoy. Thanks for reading.

___
Following is a list of the 100 best first lines from novels, as decided by the American Book Review, a nonprofit journal published at the Unit for Contemporary Literature at Illinois State University:

1. Call me Ishmael. - Herman Melville, Moby-Dick (1851)

2. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)

3. A screaming comes across the sky. - Thomas Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow (1973)

4. Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice. - Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967; trans. Gregory Rabassa)

5. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. - Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)

6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. - Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (1877; trans. Constance Garnett)

7. riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs. - James Joyce, Finnegans Wake (1939)

8. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984 (1949)

9. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. - Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

10. I am an invisible man. - Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1952)

11. The Miss Lonelyhearts of the New York Post-Dispatch (Are you in trouble?—Do-you-need-advice?—Write-to-Miss-Lonelyhearts-and-she-will-help-you) sat at his desk and stared at a piece of white cardboard. - Nathanael West, Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)

12. You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. —Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)

13. Someone must have slandered Josef K., for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was arrested. —Franz Kafka, The Trial (1925; trans. Breon Mitchell)

14. You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a winter's night a traveler. —Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler (1979; trans. William Weaver)

15. The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new. —Samuel Beckett, Murphy (1938)

16. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. - J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1951)

17. Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. - James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (1916)

18. This is the saddest story I have ever heard. - Ford Madox Ford, The Good Soldier (1915)

19. I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing;—that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind;—and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost:—Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly,—I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me. - Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (1759n1767)

20. Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. - Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850)

21. Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. - James Joyce, Ulysses (1922)

22. It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. - Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)

23. One summer afternoon Mrs. Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary. - Thomas Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49 (1966)

24. It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not. - Paul Auster, City of Glass (1985)

25. Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. - William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury (1929)

26. 124 was spiteful. - Toni Morrison, Beloved (1987)

27. Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing. - Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (1605; trans. Edith Grossman)

28. Mother died today. - Albert Camus, The Stranger (1942; trans. Stuart Gilbert)

29. Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu. - Ha Jin, Waiting (1999)

30. The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel. - William Gibson, Neuromancer (1984)

31. I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man. - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground (1864; trans. Michael R. Katz)

32. Where now? Who now? When now? - Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable (1953; trans. Patrick Bowles)

33. Once an angry man dragged his father along the ground through his own orchard. "Stop!" cried the groaning old man at last, "Stop! I did not drag my father beyond this tree." - Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans (1925)

34. In a sense, I am Jacob Horner. - John Barth, The End of the Road (1958)

35. It was like so, but wasn't. - Richard Powers, Galatea 2.2 (1995)

36. —Money . . . in a voice that rustled. - William Gaddis, J R (1975)

37. Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. - Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

38. All this happened, more or less. - Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five (1969)

39. They shoot the white girl first. - Toni Morrison, Paradise (1998)

40. For a long time, I went to bed early. - Marcel Proust, Swann's Way (1913; trans. Lydia Davis)

41. The moment one learns English, complications set in. - Felipe Alfau, Chromos (1990)

42. Dr. Weiss, at forty, knew that her life had been ruined by literature. - Anita Brookner, The Debut (1981)

43. I was the shadow of the waxwing slain / By the false azure in the windowpane; - Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire (1962)

44. Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board. - Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)

45. I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story. - Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome (1911)

46. Ages ago, Alex, Allen and Alva arrived at Antibes, and Alva allowing all, allowing anyone, against Alex's admonition, against Allen's angry assertion: another African amusement . . . anyhow, as all argued, an awesome African army assembled and arduously advanced against an African anthill, assiduously annihilating ant after ant, and afterward, Alex astonishingly accuses Albert as also accepting Africa's antipodal ant annexation. - Walter Abish, Alphabetical Africa (1974)

47. There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. - C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1952)

48. He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. - Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea (1952)

49. It was the day my grandmother exploded. - Iain M. Banks, The Crow Road (1992)

50. I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. - Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (2002)

51. Elmer Gantry was drunk. - Sinclair Lewis, Elmer Gantry (1927)

52. We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. - Louise Erdrich, Tracks (1988)

53. It was a pleasure to burn. - Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (1953)

54. A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. - Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)

55. Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression. - Flann O'Brien, At Swim-Two-Birds (1939)

56. I was born in the Year 1632, in the City of York, of a good Family, tho' not of that Country, my Father being a Foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull; He got a good Estate by Merchandise, and leaving off his Trade, lived afterward at York, from whence he had married my Mother, whose Relations were named Robinson, a very good Family in that Country, and from whom I was called Robinson Kreutznaer; but by the usual Corruption of Words in England, we are now called, nay we call our selves, and write our Name Crusoe, and so my Companions always call'd me. - Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe (1719)

57. In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street. - David Markson, Wittgenstein's Mistress (1988)

58. Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress. - George Eliot, Middlemarch (1872)

59. It was love at first sight. - Joseph Heller, Catch-22 (1961)

60. What if this young woman, who writes such bad poems, in competition with her husband, whose poems are equally bad, should stretch her remarkably long and well-made legs out before you, so that her skirt slips up to the tops of her stockings? - Gilbert Sorrentino, Imaginative Qualities of Actual Things (1971)

61. I have never begun a novel with more misgiving. - W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor's Edge (1944)

62. Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person. - Anne Tyler, Back When We Were Grownups (2001)

63. The human race, to which so many of my readers belong, has been playing at children's games from the beginning, and will probably do it till the end, which is a nuisance for the few people who grow up. - G. K. Chesterton, The Napoleon of Notting Hill (1904)

64. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)

65. You better not never tell nobody but God. - Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)

66. "To be born again," sang Gibreel Farishta tumbling from the heavens, "first you have to die." - Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (1988)

67. It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. - Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963)

68. Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden. - David Foster Wallace, The Broom of the System (1987)

69. If I am out of my mind, it's all right with me, thought Moses Herzog. - Saul Bellow, Herzog (1964)

70. Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to finish digging his grave and a Negro named Buford Munson, who had come to get a jug filled, had to finish it and drag the body from the breakfast table where it was still sitting and bury it in a decent and Christian way, with the sign of its Saviour at the head of the grave and enough dirt on top to keep the dogs from digging it up. - Flannery O'Connor, The Violent Bear it Away (1960)

71. Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there's a peephole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. - GŸnter Grass, The Tin Drum (1959; trans. Ralph Manheim)

72. When Dick Gibson was a little boy he was not Dick Gibson. - Stanley Elkin, The Dick Gibson Show (1971)

73. Hiram Clegg, together with his wife Emma and four friends of the faith from Randolph Junction, were summoned by the Spirit and Mrs. Clara Collins, widow of the beloved Nazarene preacher Ely Collins, to West Condon on the weekend of the eighteenth and nineteenth of April, there to await the End of the World. - Robert Coover, The Origin of the Brunists (1966)

74. She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there were moments at which she showed herself, in the glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with the irritation that had brought her to the point of going away without sight of him. - Henry James, The Wings of the Dove (1902)

75. In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains. - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)

76. "Take my camel, dear," said my Aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass. - Rose Macaulay, The Towers of Trebizond (1956)

77. He was an inch, perhaps two, under six feet, powerfully built, and he advanced straight at you with a slight stoop of the shoulders, head forward, and a fixed from-under stare which made you think of a charging bull. - Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (1900)

78. The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. - L. P. Hartley, The Go-Between (1953)

79. On my naming day when I come 12 I gone front spear and kilt a wyld boar he parbly ben the las wyld pig on the Bundel Downs any how there hadnt ben none for a long time befor him nor I aint looking to see none agen. - Russell Hoban, Riddley Walker (1980)

80. Justice? - You get justice in the next world, in this world you have the law. - William Gaddis, A Frolic of His Own (1994)

81. Vaughan died yesterday in his last car-crash. - J. G. Ballard, Crash (1973)

82. I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. - Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle (1948)

83. "When your mama was the geek, my dreamlets," Papa would say, "she made the nipping off of noggins such a crystal mystery that the hens themselves yearned toward her, waltzing around her, hypnotized with longing." - Katherine Dunn, Geek Love (1983)

84. In the last years of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point. - John Barth, The Sot-Weed Factor (1960)

85. When I finally caught up with Abraham Trahearne, he was drinking beer with an alcoholic bulldog named Fireball Roberts in a ramshackle joint just outside of Sonoma, California, drinking the heart right out of a fine spring afternoon. - James Crumley, The Last Good Kiss (1978)
86. It was just noon that Sunday morning when the sheriff reached the jail with Lucas Beauchamp though the whole town (the whole county too for that matter) had known since the night before that Lucas had killed a white man. - William Faulkner, Intruder in the Dust (1948)

87. I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus This-that-and-the-other (for I shall not trouble you yet with all my titles) who was once, and not so long ago either, known to my friends and relatives and associates as "Claudius the Idiot," or "That Claudius," or "Claudius the Stammerer," or "Clau-Clau-Claudius" or at best as "Poor Uncle Claudius," am now about to write this strange history of my life; starting from my earliest childhood and continuing year by year until I reach the fateful point of change where, some eight years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I suddenly found myself caught in what I may call the "golden predicament" from which I have never since become disentangled. - Robert Graves, I, Claudius (1934)

88. Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women. - Charles Johnson, Middle Passage (1990)

89. I am an American, Chicago born - Chicago, that somber city —and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent. - Saul Bellow, The Adventures of Augie March (1953)

90. The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods. - Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt (1922)

91. I will tell you in a few words who I am: lover of the hummingbird that darts to the flower beyond the rotted sill where my feet are propped; lover of bright needlepoint and the bright stitching fingers of humorless old ladies bent to their sweet and infamous designs; lover of parasols made from the same puffy stuff as a young girl's underdrawers; still lover of that small naval boat which somehow survived the distressing years of my life between her decks or in her pilothouse; and also lover of poor dear black Sonny, my mess boy, fellow victim and confidant, and of my wife and child. But most of all, lover of my harmless and sanguine self. - John Hawkes, Second Skin (1964)

92. He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad. - Raphael Sabatini, Scaramouche (1921)

93. Psychics can see the color of time it's blue. - Ronald Sukenick, Blown Away (1986)

94. In the town, there were two mutes and they were always together. - Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1940)

95. Once upon a time two or three weeks ago, a rather stubborn and determined middle-aged man decided to record for posterity, exactly as it happened, word by word and step by step, the story of another man for indeed what is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal, a somewhat paranoiac fellow unmarried, unattached, and quite irresponsible, who had decided to lock himself in a room a furnished room with a private bath, cooking facilities, a bed, a table, and at least one chair, in New York City, for a year 365 days to be precise, to write the story of another person—a shy young man about of 19 years old—who, after the war the Second World War, had come to America the land of opportunities from France under the sponsorship of his uncle—a journalist, fluent in five languages—who himself had come to America from Europe Poland it seems, though this was not clearly established sometime during the war after a series of rather gruesome adventures, and who, at the end of the war, wrote to the father his cousin by marriage of the young man whom he considered as a nephew, curious to know if he the father and his family had survived the German occupation, and indeed was deeply saddened to learn, in a letter from the young man—a long and touching letter written in English, not by the young man, however, who did not know a damn word of English, but by a good friend of his who had studied English in school—that his parents both his father and mother and his two sisters one older and the other younger than he had been deported they were Jewish to a German concentration camp Auschwitz probably and never returned, no doubt having been exterminated deliberately X * X * X * X, and that, therefore, the young man who was now an orphan, a displaced person, who, during the war, had managed to escape deportation by working very hard on a farm in Southern France, would be happy and grateful to be given the opportunity to come to America that great country he had heard so much about and yet knew so little about to start a new life, possibly go to school, learn a trade, and become a good, loyal citizen. - Raymond Federman, Double or Nothing (1971)

96. Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. - Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye (1988)

97. He - for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it - was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters. - Virginia Woolf, Orlando (1928)

98. High, high above the North Pole, on the first day of 1969, two professors of English Literature approached each other at a combined velocity of 1200 miles per hour. - David Lodge, Changing Places (1975)

99. They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. - Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea (1966)

100. The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. - Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage (1895)

Copyright 2011 pantagraph.com.

Monday, March 19, 2012

ABNA: A quickie

Tomorrow is the day the guardians at the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award announce the winners in the second round of this year's contest. A select 500 -- 250 each in general fiction and young adult fiction -- will move on to the quarterfinal round.

I was on pins and needles last year at this moment hoping against hope that I would advance. I know the tiny nerves that support ones hopes and dreams. And last year I made the cut, advancing to the quarters, though I was cut after that.

I don't have such worries this year, having been cut in the first round about a month ago. (And with an even better entry this year than I had last year.) But I still truly support this contest and congratulate all the brave souls who enter it each year.

This year in particular, I have a couple of friends I am pulling for -- Jeff, an online friend from Kansas City, and Marianne, whose a member of my critique group. Both are in the YA category.

Jeff keeps coming back to the contest year after heartbreaking year, always funny and cheerfully honest. He has played it cool this year, not venturing onto the ABNA threads to comment very much. He is a good guy and it would be nice to see him advance. I'm not sure if her has ever made it to the quarters before.

And Marianne. What can I say about Marianne? She's a lawyer and a suburban mom. Not very scary, really. But as a writer, she is truly creepy. And she loves writing that sort of stuff. Her brand, which she has printed on her author business cards says, "Wake up and smell the creepy." That's excellent. And so is she.

Her writing is crisp and clean and compelling. Though her YA novel in ABNA this year isn't creepy, which is a surprise, the story is interesting and original. I can see her going far this year on talent alone. But as always, she will also need some luck.

So good luck Jeff and Marianne . . . and everyone else in the contest this year. I'll see you on the other side.

Thanks for reading and keep writing.

Editor: One friend made the cut and one did not. Well done, Marianne! And best of luck in the next round. mbd

Friday, February 10, 2012

My Muse Can Beat Up Your Muse: The Road to Publication: Part Three

My Muse Can Beat Up Your Muse: The Road to Publication: Part Three: [ This is part 3 of a summary of Spookygirl’s journey toward publication. Use the Progress tag to access all related entries. ] ...

Hello. It's me again. Finally.

I entered the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest again this year. I first entered in 2009 with A MURDEROUS DISPATCH. (I should have kept the original -- and once again -- title, "Death at the Jungle-Bunny Journal.") I didn't make it past the first round.

Last year, I entered A NASTY AFFAIR. and again I should have kept the original -- and once again -- title, "An Untidy Affair." The original title is a better fit for the story. It implies something both sexual and non-sexual.

I made it to the quarterfinal round last year, which was farther than 95 percent of all the entrants. And though I got a reasonably positive review from someone at Publishers Weekly, I failed to advance to the semifinals. Unfortunately, the review was vague and I couldn't get much out of it.

AFFAIR was written during National Novel Writing Month in 2009 and my entry this year, THE LAST TONTINE SURVIVOR, was originally written during NaNoWriMo in 2010. (It's original title was merely, "The Tontine," but this time, I like the change.) It is a good story and I think the writing is strong. I have gotten three critical reads of the manuscript, including an edit. But I have no idea how it will do in the contest.

So much of ABNA comes down to luck, particularly in the first round. I have no idea whether I have any of that. But I have done my part. I have written a good novel with an interesting plot. I have done what I could. Now, I just have to while until the first round results are announced on Feb. 23. The finals will be in late May. I hope I make it that far.

There are two categories in ABNA -- general fiction and young adult. I am entered in general fiction. There is a grand prize winner in each category.

And while I don't believe the best novel always wins, I certainly believe a deserving, well-written novel always wins. And the winner last year in the YA category was a delightful novel called, SPOOKYGIRL, PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR. And its author is a wonderful woman named Jill Baguchinsky.

Jill just started a blog on what it is like to win ABNA. And if I do things correctly, there should be a link to her blog in this blog posting. You should go check it out. I enjoy reading it and look forward to her next posting.

Well, that's it for now. Thanks for reading and, always, keep writing.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Dashiell Hammett

Today is the birthday of Samuel Dashiell Hammett, who was born in 1894 and died on Jan. 10, 1961.

Hammett is one of my favorite fiction authors. His hard-boiled detective novels are full of interesting, three-dimensional characters who are both cynical and romantic. My favorites are Nick and Nora Charles from THE THIN MAN. The novel was published in 1934 and there were six movies based on Nick and Nora, starting with "The Thin Man", also in 1934.

He only wrote five novels -- all in five years with THE THIN MAN being the last -- but also wrote a host of short stories. The other novel for which he is well known today is THE MALTESE FALCON, which was his third novel and which introduced the detective character Sam Spade. However, his first novel, RED HARVEST, published in 1929, was listed by Time magazine several years ago as one of the top 100, English-language novels in the 20th Century.

In many ways, Hammett's character Sam Spade inspired David Blaise, the protagonist in my 2009 novel, AN UNTIDY AFFAIR. I read THE MALTESE FALCON for the umpteenth time in 2008 and while the timing and settings of Hammett's novel and my novel are different, as I wrote I often thought of what Spade's office would look like and of the characters on the street he would meet.

Blaise is a struggling detective and a bit of a loner. Solitude is probably his greatest vice.

Blaise is not hard-drinking and heavy smoking like what you find in Hammett's work -- or in his life. But I think those vices are more a product of Hammett's time. Given the traits of his characters, it is hard believe they would have as strong a cultural impact or have the lasting appeal if they were written that way today.

Hammett was a veteran of two world wars. And though jailed in the 1950s for failing to name names during the Red Scare, he is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. The cemetery is large and I generally just go to the Kennedy gravesite because it is the easiest to find. But this summer when we are vacationing in the area, I plan to visit Hammett's grave.

Thanks for reading and, like me, keep writing.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Endings . . . and redemptions

I am struck by the fact that I like happy endings, particularly in stories. Sentimental, yes, I know that. But it's not like I can't find satisfaction in a sad ending because I can. That is as long as the ending makes sense and there is some degree of redemption in the story.

So that brings me to my critique group. I won't mention names here, of course, but they all know I enjoy their stories and value them comments on my writing.

There is one woman in the group -- I will call her Kia -- who loves dark, creepy stories. I don't care for them much but I truly love her writing. She is a brilliant storyteller, has vivid descriptions and snappy dialogue. But she loves the dark side.

This week, we read a short story by another woman -- I will call her Angie -- that was full of mystical elements, which I could accept, and a surprising and shocking ending, where the protag is murdered. Now the protag wasn't a particularly likable person, certainly wasn't in the beginning. She was full of anger and pain. But Angie was wonderfully able paint a fuller picture of her as the story developed and there was a level of redemption in her life.

Then she is killed off.

Ninety to 95 percent of the story was great but Angie destroyed it in the last 300 words. I hated it and didn't pick it up again until my critique group meeting, though it was on my mind a lot. And I wondered how Kia, who loves the dark side, felt about Angie's story.

She disliked it, too.

The problem was nothing in the story up until that point -- not in its details or in its tone -- suggested the type of ending. It cheated the reader because there was little redemption and no justice in the outcome. It was like having a story about puppy dogs, and kitty cats, and unicorns, and daisies, and sunshine. Then suddenly at the end, having Freddie Kruger show up and stuff the kitties into a wood chipper. Despite the mere horror of it all, the ending would make no sense.

In my stories, I strive for them to make sense. I end them where I do because that's where the end is. I always want the ending to leave the reader satisfied, even if it's not totally happy.

Angie's story is a case study in what I will avoid.

Thanks for reading, and keep writing.

Monday, January 10, 2011

ABNA -- again!

I must be an idiot (or a glutton for punishment at the very least) but I decided to enter the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest again this year. But I also decided to follow some advice by online friend and published author James King, the 2009 ABNA winner.

I entered ABNA that year and found the expereince less than pleasant, though not because Jim ultimately -- and quite deservedly -- won. Some of the people I encountered in the online chat threads were not just competitive, which was to be expected -- we all were competitive -- but also downright nasty about it. I networked a lot on the threads and, despite the nasties, I thankfully met plenty of wonderful people and many of them I now consider friends.

At the time, Jim wasn't one of them. And that was probably because his approach to the contest was smart.

I met Jim face-to-face for the first time last fall during at one of his book tour events in Ohio. And I asked him whether he read or commented in the ABNA threads during the contest. He said no. He just entered and let it rip.

So I decided to do the same this year. I'm going to enter and just let my writing speak for me. I won't hang out talking and waiting. I don't plan to get all caught up in the contest as I have before. I will know something when they contact me.

I won't say which novel I will enter and I will use a pseudonym, though I haven't decided which name to use. I am reading over my entry now, nipping and tucking where I think it may need it. And I'm going to have my wife, who is great at marketing, write the first draft of my novel pitch, though I won't blame her if I don't make it past stage one because I will write the last draft of the pitch.

So there you have it. This is probably my last mention of this year's contest unless I make the semi-final round later in the spring. And I may not mention it then, either.

I have the talent, I believe, but success is often a matter of luck. So wish me luck.

And, as always, thanks for reading.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Justin Bieber and other rants

I know this is going to sound like so many sour grapes -- and perhaps it is -- but it seems there is a certain injustice in the universe when there are so many talented, struggling unpublished authors in the world and someone like Justin Bieber can get a book contract for an autobiography.

I was in the bookstore last weekend and saw FIRST STEP 2 FOREVER: MY STORY by Justin Bieber. What in the world can this 16-year-old boy, whom no one had heard of two years ago, say would be interesting enough to pay good money to buy, let alone to read? He has no life experience. He's had no great struggles since he was a child. He was a healthy middle-class kid growing up in suburbia in Canada.

It looks a lot like a picture book for the pre-teen set but I know several young adult authors with far more to offer that age group than what they will get from Bieber. Fortunately, two of them are getting published next year but neither will get nearly the sort of publicity granted to Justin Bieber.

What I think is worse for Bieber, who apparently has a nail polish line coming as well as a unisex fragrance, is that it seems as if some marketing guru is trying to turn a boy, who already has lots of effeminate characteristics, into a girl. He could be messed up for the rest of his life as in private moments, which could be few, he struggles to understand who he is. He could end up like poor Michael Jackson.

That saddens me but it isn't the point I am trying to make at the moment.

I love it when a debut author breaks through because it provides hope for the rest of us. But it seems that when some celebrity, such as Bieber or with novels by Nicole Richie, comes out of nowhere and gets a contract, there is a little less space for the rest of us. I have an online friend who was published this year (and it was a wonderful book) and he footed the bill for his own book tour. It was worth it to him and I support that. But I'm sure Justin Bieber doesn't have to foot the bill for his publicity, tours or book signings.

It just doesn't seem right.

So there is my rant.

I truly don't wish young Justin Bieber ill-will in any way. I just wish there was a little more equity in the universe.

Thanks for reading and don't give up on writing. Don't let the injustice silence your voice.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

4 Golden Rules for Being a Writer -- Now wait a minute

I was reading an online edition of Writer's Digest this week and happened upon an article by author Anne Fortier, who wrote JULIET, a novel about a young woman who discovers that she is descended from Shakespeare's Juliet. Great premise, by the way.

Fortier's article, "4 Golden Rules for Being a Writer," appeared on Chuck Sambuchino's blog. (The blog address is below)

http://www.guidetoliteraryagents.com/blog/The+4+Golden+Rules+Of+Being+A+Writer.aspx

Now I originally agreed with Ms Fortier's suggestions until I started to think about them in greater detail. And the more I thought, the more I started thinking some of her suggestions were something out of a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale. (Fortier is originally from Denmark, which is a beautiful country.)

Her first rule, Start at square one, essentially says forget about networking.

"The world is full of people who know people who know an agent. But you can save yourself a lot of time and disappointment by ignoring them. Because the truth is, no one really knows anyone, and even if they did, it is probably not going to help your chances one bit," she says. ". . . if you run around looking for them, chances are you will still end up back at square one, wondering why you just wasted six months on hearsay."

I'm sorry but that's crap.

While I don't think you can hang your hat on such long chances, there are numerous examples of people who connect with an agent or publisher through social and professional contacts. I know of two people who just this year got agents through knowing someone who knew someone. In both cases, the aspiring authors were prepared for an opportunity if it came. So when it did, they ran with it.

Ms Fortier's second rule is Do your homework. She is right about this.

Not only should your manuscript be "finished, brilliant, formatted correctly, and edited to near-perfection . . . the same goes for the query letter," Fortier says. "Invest the time and do a proper job; this is the most important page of your entire manuscript."

I think this is where I somehow must be failing. Yes, as you know, I have honed my query to the best of my ability but apparently something about it doesn't entice agents. Not sure what, so I continue to work on it. But it is a tight, 250 words. And I think she is right on this point. It is probably the most important page you will write.

Rule No. 3 is Pitch your book before you write it.

"What I mean by this is that you can save yourself a lot of time and headaches by thinking ahead to your query letter as early as possible in the writing process. Once you've done your homework and know what a query letter needs to accomplish, you are very likely to look at your finished manuscript and groan," she says. "So, make a point of thinking through the story early on, with the pitch in mind."

I agree in part and dissent in part.

I agree you should think your story through but she seems to suggest that you should write out an outline before you start. I know I lot of writers who do outline but just as many who don't. And there are successful writers in both camps. It is through hard work and the re-writing process where you keep your novel being "a rambling, pointless, dead-boring excuse for a book." And if you do that, it won't end up being "un-pitchable" as Ms. Fortier suggests. You should think ahead but you also must allow the story to develop. In the end, you could end up with a better story than what you originally considered.

The last rule is Don't jump the gun. "The book world looks pretty darn big from your office chair, but it actually isn't. So, once you have compiled that beautiful list of desirable and reliable agents (once again: by doing your homework), make sure you don't waste it. Don't send query letters to more than one agent at a time," she writes.

That is insane. There can be scores of agents who potentially may be interested in your book. But the response time for most agents is between two and eight weeks for queries, or so they say. Some answer in minutes while others never respond. If you send out only one query at a time and wait for a response, it could take you more than a year, at the earliest, to get through your list of potential agents.

Sambuchino says carpeting the industry with a query doesn't work and he is probably right. He suggests sending out a small number, say, seven, and if that doesn't work, there is probably something wrong with the letter. You can then hone the letter without having invested too much time in a letter that doesn't work.

That is reasonable.

But I agree with Fortier when she says, "Don't test the water by sending your second-best. Be patient. Finish the book. Write the most attractive query letter ever. And then sleep on it. And sleep on it again. Remember: an agent is not some opponent you need to blitz; an agent is someone who would like nothing more than to be your ally. All she/he needs is a good reason."

As with most advice, you have to take from it what works best for you. In that way, you will be prepared when opportunity comes knocking. And even if you fail to accomplish your goal, you can be comfortable in knowing you did your best.

Thanks for reading and, above all, don't give up.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Query advice

In my every-other-Wednesday critique group, two of the other writers last night passed around query letters to critique. One we went through one as we sat. But the other one we took home to read and will critique once we see each other again.

After reading the letter, I decided to write the author privately.

It must be stated that I'm not the best source for what is an effective query letter. If I were, I wouldn't have the tons of query rejection responses sitting on the hard drive of this laptop. But I think I have a handle on what is not a good letter.

Unfortunately, the query letter I took home wasn't very good.

The person who wrote the query is an excellent writer. I have read numerous examples of their writing and find it well-crafted, thoughtful, tight and entertaining. The writer is a great storyteller, with great imagination and color.

But to my complete surprise, none of that was displaced in the query.

It was flat and unfocused. I wasn't sure who the main character was (except that the author only mentioned one character by name but I still wasn't sure if they were the main character), and there was no conflict in the letter. The author also failed to clearly identify the genre and didn't mention the word count.

Nearly nothing in the query would entice me to read the whole letter. If I didn't know the writer, I would have stopped reading after the first paragraph.

I e-mailed them suggesting that they clearly identify the main charcter, show the challenges they face and the forces standing in their way. And I hope my comments weren't too harsh. I didn't mean for them to be.

Being in this group has helped me tremendously. I hope I was of help to this author. I haven't heard back from them. So only time will tell.

Thanks for reading. And never give up.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A class act



I piled the family in the car yesterday -- well, actually, the wifey and one of my two daughters -- and high-tailed down to Cincinnati for a book signing of my friend and fellow author James King. Got there just before the start.

Although we have communicated online, it was my first face-to-face with Jim, who is as friendly and courteous in person as he is over the Internet. A few of his peeps, some dating back as far as his high school days in Ohio, were also at the bookstore and were wonderful to meet.

It was a small but very attentive crowd. Jim read from his novel, BILL WARRINGTON'S LAST CHANCE, and answered questions about the book and about writing in general. I tried my best to keep the reporter in me at bay and not inundate him with questions.

The book is quite interesting and I had hoped to finish reading it before the book signing. But time and work conspired against me. I'm only just past the halfway point. No matter. He signed my copy and left me a terrific inscription.

But the thing that surprised and impressed me most was a simple gesture. And it wasn't even a gesture directed toward me.

The signing was over and my daughter Ericka and I were sitting and talking to Jim. Actually, I was boring the poor man about my kids. But he asked me whether she -- meaning Ericka -- would read the book. I said yes. She is a voracious reader and planned to read it as soon as I finished.

Jim turned around, grabbed a book from the table and autographed it for her and then went downstairs to pay for it.

I was stunned and pleased. It was such a kind and unexpected gesture. And he left such a wonderful message for her in the book. She was excited and used a book light in the car to read some of the book on the two-hour ride home.

I'm sure he made a new young fan. And I can certainly say James King is a classy guy.

If I ever get a book published and go on a book tour, I'm definitely going to make a stop in Wilton, Connecticut. And perhaps, just perhaps, make a small repayment on a simple, kind gesture.

Thanks for reading and keep writing.