The Book or Bust

A Writer's Lenten Pledge

2012-02-23T06:49:00.000-08:00

Lent always sneaks up on me. I'm not a regular church-goer, but was as a child, so the requirement to give up something for Lent always feels like some task being heaped on me by my parents. Like piano lessons or cleaning my room.

Lent is supposed to be "devoted to fasting, abstinence and penitence," according to Webster's. But I've tried to give things up before -- with and without Lent -- and I never manage to last more than three or four days. God bless people who can really quit an addiction like smoking or drinking, because I can't even keep my hands off the bagels.

I know this is bending the rules a bit, but I decided that for this Lent, I'm going to mark the time by writing a new story every day. Forty stories in forty days. This is a variation of what I did last June, a month I dubbed "The Month of Making Things Up," in which I pledged to write 500 words of new fiction every day. There were even a few wonderfully hardy writers who joined me. While I didn't follow the pledge to the letter, I managed to come away from June with twenty new stories, two of which were published at the end of last year.

I know what you're thinking. This is all about me. My goals. What I want to do with those forty days. How does this have anything to do with Lent?

But there is something from which I will be abstaining. And no, thank God, it's not bagels. There is a long list of insidious things that must be pushed aside to enable so much new writing: excuse-making, distractions, negative self-talk, general laziness, fatigue, socializing. These things have an amazing draw to a writer who must be alone and entirely focused to do what she does. So much of a draw that sometimes they each feel like their own narcotic. If you're also a writer, you know what I'm talking about.

And you? What are you giving up for Lent?

---

PS: Further to my last post on book marketing, check out this interesting post from David Kazzie, author of The Jackpot: "How Amazon's KDP Select Saved My Book."

Marketing Advice for the Self-Published

2012-01-25T08:22:00.000-08:00

You didn't ask, no, but I'm going to give you my two marketing cents anyway.

For the past two years, I've been quietly watching the world of self-publishing, trying to figure out if I want to do it myself. I've been reading what writers post on blogs, what writers do to promote themselves, and what kinds of books are being self-published. I created a list of the self-published novels that were getting the most buzz, and I've read a handful of them. While watching, I haven't been able to turn off the "marketer brain" that 15 years of ad agency and marketing work has given me. (And just to underscore the point: if you watched a Jif Peanut Butter commercial in the late 90s, the odds are I worked on it. And if you used an American Express card in the last 10 years, the odds are I might have sent you a piece of direct mail giving you some reason to use it more.)

The bottom line is that I think most self-published writers are not doing themselves any favors in the marketing department. Here's why:

Selling is asking a person to part with their money in exchange for something. A book, a box of detergent, a jar of peanut butter, an all-inclusive vacation. It's all the same. It's parting with money. People usually don't like to part with money, so they have to be convinced (by marketing) to do it.

Marketing used to be mass. It was done mainly with TV commercials, ads in glossy magazines, jingles on the radio, and billboards. For a long time, this is how we found out about things and how we decided to part with our money. The ads had catchy pitches that were repeated SO often that they became an offshoot of our brain wiring that we didn't consciously question. It's how slogans like "Good to the last drop" made us crave Maxwell House, the leading brand of coffee for decades. It didn't matter that it was the TV telling us about Maxwell House. The glitz and polish of the message, the repetition of it, the "sights and sounds" of the dripping coffee, were enough to find it entirely credible.

Now, marketing is based much more on the credibility of the messenger. Social media has largely made it possible for "credible messengers" to have a stage on which to promote their belief in such-and-such product. Techie dads have blogs about gadgets. Moms write reviews about baby products. Writers write book reviews. BUT (are you listening, writers?), writers do not write their OWN book reviews.

I can't tell you how often I see authors floating around the Internet talking about what a great book they just wrote. When it comes to your own book, you are part of the art. You are not a credible marketing messenger. There is no way you could be. You can say your baby is beautiful, but it's your baby. The first thing an observer of your baby will do is turn to the person next to them and ask "Is that the ugliest baby you ever saw, or is it just me?" Yes, authors, you should be out there in social media, sharing your work, doing virtual book tours, readings, interviews, whatever you can do to share your art. But sharing your art is not the same thing as selling your art and you should remember the difference.

Of course, readers like when you share your art. It helps them sample who you are as a writer. But it's a rare reader who's going to be convinced to buy your book - to part with their money - unless they hear from an "other person" - that means someone who is not you - that it's a good read.

There are two types of people you can leverage to be your "other person," two ways an "other person" can be credible. The "other person" is either somebody that the reader personally knows and trusts, or the "other person" is somebody who has the knowledge or experience to make a credible recommendation. For example, I bought a Kodak Zi8 when a techie dad told me on his blog that it was better than the Flip Video. I don't know this techie dad, but I trust that he knows what he's talking about with regard to video gadgets.

Now what about Twitter? Are authors on there sharing their art? No, they are not. They are Tweeting that they just wrote something and you can buy it on Amazon. This is not sharing your art. This is selling. It's a turn off. I've even done it myself with the short stories I had published last year. And guess what? Nobody cared. I probably even turned them off (sorry about that, Followers).

But if an "other person" Tweets that they know of a good book written by someone else, I might pay attention to that. Especially if it doesn't sound like the author asked them to do it. Sincerity just has a ring to it, and you know it when you read it.

So what can you do? You need to rally an army of "other persons." These can come in the form of contest judges, reviewers, blurb-providers, independent readers, magazine editors, other writers. And I'll take a leap and suggest that you need to put the majority of your budget into hiring a good, social media-savvy, book-savvy public relations firm that will be your voice on and offline. No, I can't recommend one. I've never used one so I'm not a credible "other person," but I do know that you need one. If I decide to self-publish The Orphan's Daughter, that's the first place I'm taking my checkbook. I will also have somebody do a Facebook page for the book and write about the author in the third person, not as if I'm writing about myself. I will give free copies of my book to people with tons of followers on Twitter and Facebook. What they say is up to them, and is a risk, but if I've written a good book it's a risk I'll be willing to take.

Once you have them, all the "other persons" need the same song sheet - think of it as your "Good to the last drop" message - but it shouldn't be as canned as a plain, old ad slogan. The PR firm should be able to come up with this or, maybe, YOU. Because, after all, you are a writer. Nobody has to know you wrote your own slogan. As long as you don't pitch your own slogan. The song sheet should hit the high points of why this is a book worth reading. What's in it for the reader? Why should they part with their money?

The most important advice I can give you is that once you have this army of "other persons," then you need to get out of their way and only open your mouth when it is to share your art. Sell? No. Market? No. Share? Yes. Sharing has its own way of moving product, yes, but you have to do it without the readers in the room knowing what you're doing. You want them to want your book before they realize you want their money.

It used to be that the likes of Random House and your literary agent were your "other persons." Just having them on board was worth parting with the huge cut they took out of a book, leaving the author with pennies on the dollar. But you don't have to have them as your "other persons" anymore. You must, however, have "other persons," and very good ones. People who know distribution, reader demographics, and media, especially of the social variety.

Isn't all this abundantly obvious to everyone? I thought that, too. Then I kept seeing writers everywhere telling me where to get their book on Amazon, or to read their latest whatever. And they didn't have many reviews. No blurbs. No reviews. They hadn't won a contest, or even submitted to one. And nobody else was saying much about their book. Just the author. And that, folks, is a turn off.

So, authors, go get your others. Go get them now!

The Cement of Friends

2012-01-09T10:00:00.000-08:00

Stingo watching Sophie

This time last year, I wrote these five points in a blog post. My rules:

Five Writer's Rules for 2011

1 -- Write especially when you don't feel like it.

2 -- Come to the page each time with optimism. Don't get mad at the writing.

3 -- Ignore the destination. Write only for the joy of putting words together.

4 -- Write everyday. Even if it's just a shopping list.

5 -- Celebrate the successes of others.

I wouldn't change them for this year. They're exactly the same. The fourth rule is absolutely the hardest. If I think about only one rule this year, it's that one. I don't know how you do it. You just do it. I didn't do great with #4 in 2011, I'll admit it. I hope 2012 is different.

There have been friends lately who have reminded me why I'm doing what I'm doing, who seem some days more excited about the fact that I am trying my hand - seriously - at writing than I am. Thank you, friends. For the contacts, the web links, the book ideas, the encouragement, the feedback. Even just asking me how it's going. Even sitting with me on a chilly sidewalk last weekend in Shanghai and listening to me try to remember the passage below, how it went, why it is so lovely, such an exquisite string of words, so perfect. You seemed like you genuinely wanted to know about it, and that stayed with me for hours after. You fix this wobbly statue to her pedestal. You are glue. No, you are cement.

Here are the words I was trying so hard to remember, exactly as written:

As she walked slowly up the stairs I took a good look at her body in its clinging silk summer dress. While it was a beautiful body, with all the right prominences, curves, continuities and symmetries, there was something a little strange about it -- nothing visibly missing and not so much deficient as reassembled. And that was precisely it, I could see. The odd quality proclaimed itself through the skin. It possessed the sickish plasticity (at the back of her arms it was especially noticeable) of one who has suffered severe emaciation and whose flesh is even now in the last stages of being restored. Also, I felt that underneath that healthy suntan there lingered the sallowness of a body not wholly rescued from a terrible crisis. But none of these at all diminished a kind of wonderfully negligent sexuality having to do at that moment, at least, with the casual but forthright way her pelvis moved and with her truly sumptuous rear end. Despite past famine, her behind was as perfectly formed as some fantastic prize-winning pear; it vibrated with magical eloquence, and from this angle it so stirred my depths that I mentally pledged to the Presbyterian orphanages of Virginia a quarter of my future earnings as a writer in exchange for that bare ass's brief lodging -- thirty seconds would do -- within the compass of my cupped supplicant palms. Old Stingo, I mused as she climbed upward, there must be some perversity in this dorsal fixation. Then as she reached the top of the stairs she turned, looking down, and smiled the saddest smile imaginable. "I hope I haven't annoyed you with my problems," she said. "I am so sorry." And she moved toward her room and said, "Good night."

~ from Sophie's Choice by William Styron

Criticism, Pancakes and Velvet Bags

2011-11-21T05:58:00.001-08:00

And then, our heroes realized that all their bread crumbs had been eaten...

No, I haven't lost my crumbs. Though I've at least misplaced the literary equivalent of them.

So far, The Orphan's Daughter has been rejected by 30 literary agents. And before you circle the wagons around my psyche (though, thank you thank you, for the gesture), I guess I can tell you that this is exactly the result I expected. So far. The tougher bone to gnaw at is the one about what to do next.

I recently met a New York Times Bestselling novelist at a literary function in Brooklyn and he, very generously, offered to read some of Daughter for me and give me his critique.* There was no trick to this. I just spent time talking to him and listening to his advice and I guess we just clicked. I checked my emails every hour after I sent him the first chapters (he asked for 10 pages and I sent him 40, for which he congratulated me later... lesson to the other writers out there). (*Later, I will write a post about trust, the kindness of strangers, and how you can't make progress without them.)

His response came early on a Saturday morning, less than 24 hours later. Mainly, he was underwhelmed and full of criticism about everything from my inability to truly-madly-deeply know my characters to my, it hurts to say it, grammar (ouch!). Finding out you have a grammar blind spot (in my case, it was the difference between an intransitive and transitive verb) is like having tried to make your living as a close talker only to find out you have horrendous breath.

Sigh.

Then I got out of bed and ate a huge stack of pancakes. Two stacks. With too much syrup. While I reread Strunk & White. While my kids were watching something called Dragon Ball Z-Kai, a show that emits copious amounts of automatic artillery noise, and something I should have gotten up to turn off. But I didn't. See? More feedback.

Then a few days later, a friend of a friend, who is a literary agent, reacted to the same pages of Daughter. He said he just didn't fall in love with the writing... "it's just a degree away from being there. At least for me."

Even though it is unwise to confess all this to you, in a public space, I am anyway. So there, World. The novel is still in circulation (or under a stack of other novels, but I prefer to imagine the former) with an agent at the ultra-impenetrable ICM. (Hi there, ICM!!) I plan to still send it to more agents, should ICM not scoop us up. (Did you hear that, ICM?)

Yes, it's unwise to tell you about my feedback because I get up every day firmly believing that every agent worth their salt (eww, a cliche) is reading my blog. And especially the ones I have been or will be in contact with. So my cards should be closer to my vest (eww, another one).

Sigh. Who moved my pancakes?

For whatever indulgent, cathartic reason, cards sometimes seem worth sharing. When I teach my kids a new card game, we all play with cards face up on the table. So we can learn. So we can all learn.

My lesson for any other writers out there in the wilderness of writing and rejection is to file away the feedback, eat a stack of pancakes (preferably two), and begin again. Feedback is a jewel in your velvet bag, even terrible, critical feedback. Tuck it away, draw the string, and hide it to admire later. But do admire it. It will make you better than you ever thought possible. (Yes, I know I'm taxing the reader to pile on a new, completely un-pancake-related metaphor, but whatever. See? More feedback.)

And once you understand what the feedback is saying, make light of your mistakes as much as possible. Writing isn't like trying to get the Apollo 13 mission back to Earth. I can say with a straight face that the worst error I've made in the last few weeks is to not load a hill of powdered sugar on those syrup-drenched pancakes.

What in God's name was I thinking?!

This Blog Is Your Blog, This Blog Is My Blog

2011-11-08T09:51:00.000-08:00

Iguazu Falls, from the side of my blog visitor, Brazil

Dear Australia, Latvia, Germany, UK, Canada, Russia, Brazil, and Georgia:

I can't believe you're here! I mean, YOU are here with ME, on this blog.

It sort of blows me away. Me, at an antique desk in the bedroom of my third floor apartment in Hoboken, New Jersey and YOU, wherever you are. Beach? Desk? Train? Sidewalk cafe? Doctor's waiting room? The possibilities are endless, aren't they?

Following on the theme of my last post, Hello, Bulgaria!, I thought I would say hi to the rest of the countries who have popped up in my stats over just the last week. Did I say it sort of blows me away?

Of the eight of you, the two countries I have never visited before are Georgia and Brazil. I did get close to Brazil once, in a raft with a bunch of other tourists, trussed up in a life jacket, drenched under the Iguazu Falls. Oh Brazil, you looked so beautiful from there (and blurry).

Georgia, well, tell us about yourself. Please. I went to business school with a charming fellow from Azerbaijan, which I know is not the same thing as Georgia, but that's about all I know. So tell, tell!

In fact, here are a few questions for everybody, even if your country didn't pop up in my stats during the last week. Please indulge me. In my ad agency days, I spent a lot of time behind one-way glass listening to people answer questions in focus groups. I sort of miss it. So here is my blog version of the focus group, to which you can respond in the "comments" section below. I really want to know you.

Now, pretend you can't see me.

Ahem.

Question #1: What do you do with yourself? Are you also a writer? A mail delivery person? A florist? A brain surgeon? (If you're this last one, please don't admit it. Also, no more coffee!)

Very good. See? That wasn't so difficult.

Question #2: Why do you read The Book or Bust? What has been your favorite post?

Question #3: How or where did you find me?

Question #4: What did you have for dinner last night? Or what was the last book you read? Or movie you saw? Or anything else you want to tell me. Within reason. (Remember that last part.)

It's lovely to know you all. Truly it is.

I'm going out now because today in the mile-square burg of Hoboken it's almost 70 degrees, there's a bright blue sky and flame yellow-red-orange trees in the parks. I'll walk six blocks due east and stop at a railing by the Hudson River and find Manhattan there, like a castle, across the water.

Whatever your weather is, or your view, I hope it's that good.

Hello, Bulgaria!

2011-11-04T07:23:00.000-07:00

Here's the thing I love about blogging: blogs travel. I love to travel. I've lived in two countries (Poland and France) besides the one I was born in, and now am a semi-resident part of the year in a third one (Spain) where my husband's family is.

And now my blog is being read in such far-flung places as China and even... Bulgaria!

Monday this week felt like a slow day. I looked at my blog stats, which in truth I don't look at much. And I saw there that 8 people from Bulgaria had been on the blog on Monday alone. Eight Bulgarians!

Even for somebody who thinks of herself as well-traveled, my knowledge of Bulgaria was pretty slim. But these 8 visitors piqued my curiosity.

First off, where is it? Here's a handy State Department map:

Looky there: the Black Sea. I'm not sure I even knew Bulgaria had beaches. So I went looking for a pic:

Not bad, right? Did you know the Black Sea is half as salty as the Mediterranean and that the Greeks used to call it the "pontus exuinos" (hospitable sea) because it has no tides or dangerous sea creatures. Phew. I can leave my spears at home.

Bulgarians are big salad eaters and are known for their excellent feta. Here's a recipe for their popular salad, the Shopska Salad: Shopska Salad Recipe!

And you can credit Bulgarian-born Christo Vladimirov Javacheff with this art installation a few years ago in Central Park:

There you are, friends, a mini tour of Bulgaria. If you're one of the 8 Bulgarians who came through here on Monday, please say hi! We American bloggers don't bite!

'Cause Writing's Lighting Up

2011-10-04T09:41:00.000-07:00

Why is it that the dentist office is always playing Elton John?

I went to get a cleaning and a cavity drilled - uh, filled - last week and there he was. Tiny Dancer. Then there was Rocket Man. It must have been the DJ's turn to spin a medley. I started to feel blue as I settled into the recliner under the blue warmth of the dental spotlight. Under my right thigh, my fingers were crossed hoping the DJ's next pick wasn't I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues. Please, God. The hygenist put a paper towel under my neck.

The hygenist at this office is Russian. Her name isn't Nikita, but that wouldn't have surprised me at all. Nothing against Russia, but when she interrogates me about flossing, I get a little jittery. I feel inadequate and even offensive to dental hygensits everywhere. Most days, I leave there dejected, believing myself to be a sorry excuse for a dental patient, toting a free sample of Sensodyne.

When she cleans my teeth, I have this tendancy to jerk and wiggle maybe a bit more than the normal person. She always asks me in this disbelieving voice, "You're not in pain are you?"

"No," I say. "You just have a steel hook in my mouth. It must be up here, that's all," I say, pointing to my head. All in my head, yes. (That's going to be an upcoming post by the way... but I digress.)

"How is your book coming?" she asks, stepping on the consonants extra hard the way they do in St. Petersburg.

How does she even remember this? I'm thinking. Did I really tell my Russian hygenist I was writing a novel? There must be some little space on the cover sheet of my file that says "personal notes" where they right down bullet points from our chit chat over the spit bowl, so they can play it all back at the next visit. Now that's 21st century customer service if you ask me. But you didn't. So back to the chair.

She get's my boilerplate answer: "It's coming, little by little. You know, it's kind of a long process."

"Do you have a publisher yet?"

Is she kidding me? Maybe that's how they do it in Russia. Especially if you show up at the publisher's office with a steel hook in your hand. On second thought...

"No," I gurgle. "No, noh yeh." I turn up my eyes in an optimistic way that she must find grossly American. "Ahny dah nohw."

She nods. God do I hate the nodding.

"Well, good luck. It must be so competitive."

I move my eyebrows up and down, which means You bet your beluga it is.

"OK, rinse."

I sit up, lean over the spit bowl, gargle some minty tap water and spit it out. It's all red. Oops. She's going to let me have it. Because she's the one with the hook, I listen and smile politely. But what I'd really like to say is: if you scrape around a person's mouth with a steel hook, there's going to be some blood!

"So you're doing everything the same since last time?" she asks. "Same flossing and everything?" (Last time was a banner visit for some odd reason).

I nod. This is mostly true.

"Then it's probably stress doing this to your gums. You know, stress is very bad for the gums."

I smile politely. Yes, stress.

"Are you under stress?"

Well, we could go back to that part about me writing a novel and not having a publisher if you want me to spell it out for you. But I smile politely. "Maybe I am. Dunno."

By now I'm in a full-on depression. Thank God the DJ has opted for Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting, which happens to be a song I really hate, only slightly less than Crocodile Rock. But neither of those is going to make me start bawling while I still have the paper napkin dangling under my neck.

Nikita moves me to a different chair for the cavity treatment. When she asks me if I want gas or local, I am tempted to ask for both. I feel such writer angst that going under for a few minutes seems like just the ticket. And I feel certain the DJ is going to put Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me as his next song. I'm not sure I could take that one. I grip the arms of the chaise.

"Local," I say, wanting to tough it out. "Local's OK."

Nikita looks doubtful, but swabs me anyway and sticks me in the gum with a needle hefty enough to inflate a radial tire.

When the drilling is done, I feel overwrought. It feels like I'm wearing a lopsided clown mask on the right side of my face. I clutch my goodie bag full of "high-tech" floss, a neon blue toothbrush, and a sample of Sensodyne. I have to go home now, sit down at my desk, and write something.

I pay my co-pay at the office, enough to send the dentist's kid on a vacation to Russia. As I reach to open the door and walk back home, I hear the DJ put on a new song.

It's called I'm Still Standing.

The Professional

2011-09-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

If my kids don't stop complaining about school, I might have to teach them to be hitmen.

Because writers need long, uninterrupted hours of staring out windows, I've enrolled my two sons in their school's "aftercare" programs this year. This buys me two extra hours, three days a week. Time enough to forget what time it is, which is when the real writing starts. But the way they complain about it, you would think "aftercare" equated to being locked in a maximum security cell on death row. Ohhh, and then they made me PAINT!!

They do not shake my resolve. This is what my face looks like when they complain:

And then I say, "Too bad. Your mom works." And they look back at me like a pair of pre-teen Natalie Portmans whose family just got whacked.

Yes, that's right. Mom is a professional. She doesn't have a boss, or a paycheck, or an editor or an agent. She barely has a single publishing credit to her name. But we're going to all look each other in the eye and agree "your Mom works." Yes, we are.

This takes a lot of gamesmanship on my part. One problem is my professional footwear. It usually looks like this:

I've been thinking of wearing pearls to compensate. Or something Dry Clean Only. Maybe slippers that are Dry Clean Only. I definitely need a secretary.

The good thing about kids is that they can't fact check. When somebody asks Tweedle Dee what his mom does he says "she writes stories." Hell yeah, she does. He can't read The New Yorker yet to see that my name is nowhere to be found in it, so we're safe for awhile.

It sounds ridiculous, but in the first few weeks after I quit my Corporate job, and I still had a full time nanny, I used to commute into Manhattan and spend the morning writing in a Pain Quotidien or Au Bon Pain. I think I did it for the plain reason that I needed to still find myself in the same stream of fish every morning. Because if I weren't, if I weren't in the stream at all, I would be dead, right? Like a fish out of water would be. And I would only go into the French places. Somehow they made me feel a teeny bit initiated into the club of Hemingway and Gertrude Stein.

I'm getting good at the gamesmanship. I came 20 minutes late to pick up one of the kids last week and, while apologizing to the caregiver/warden, I explained that I had just come from a conference call that ran long. I was wearing spandex and a jog bra. And I was sweating. She looked unmoved by my excuse so I imagine it wasn't the first time she heard it. I do some of my best writing on the treadmill.

If Jean Reno's Leon taught me anything it's that I should take pride in my work, no matter what it is, no matter how morally questionable (like wearing spandex). That might not have been the ultimate message of the film, but it was what I tucked away. Writing is a serious business, and it takes a professional to know it.

Just Allow Me This One Post

2011-09-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

How the hell did I get here? Do you ever ask yourself that question? It's been that kind of week here.

This was supposed to be the week I broke out of the author gate like Secretariat. Kids gone, our shower fixed (that would make a long post, but suffice it to say it involved an insurance claim, a lot of gooey grout and jackhammers mincing up our Italian porcelain tile into little bitty pieces), our house clean (I finally had to hire someone because I am a dismal failure at toilet bowls), and the natural disasters seemed to have abated.

But Monday was a full moon. I should have known better.

I've been resisting the idea of writing a post about boo-hooing a physical ailment, but just allow me 100 words and I'll be done with it. I thought you've been hanging with me this long, I should let you know what's going on. About a year ago, this weird thing started happening whenever I sat down at my desk, or sat anywhere, to write. Lots and lots of needles and pins in the legs, and not the kind they sing about. Huh? I wrote less. A lot less. Then I did some physical therapy, swimming, more tests, and finally a doc told me I have something called chemical radiculitus. Sounds like a fancy name for writer's block, doesn't it? Yeah, that's what I was thinking. I must be psyching myself out so bad on the writing front that I'm making myself sick.

The MRI kind of put that fear to rest. Basically, radiculitus is caused by inflammation in one part of the body (in my case, a tear in a disc of my lower back) that rides on nerves everywhere until you want to become a very, very bitchy person. The doc has said "you'll just eventually get better" if you take care of yourself. And then I paid her money.

Anyway, I'm way over my 100 words, so I'll sum up by saying that writing has become a battle between me and my body. My body doesn't want to sit. It says "ouuuuch," kind of in that long groan kind of way like ET. But the writer inside the body does. But the writer can't unless she wants to start cussing like Steve Carell in his chest-waxing scene in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. So she lays sideways, or props up on her stomach or sits for only ten minutes, or sits with ice under the back of her shirt. So she can write.

I know. Altogether now... awwww. It's tempting to feel sorry for myself, and I do go there occasionally (like now). The universe is being awfully mean to me, don't you think? Doesn't it know I'm in pursuit of my life's work here? Which involves sitting? Hello!

I used to spend 5, 6, 8 hours writing The Orphan's Daughter this time last year. And loving it. It would take at least 2 hours to get to that voice or part of the story I needed to channel, and once I did I was flying. Now I just don't have the luxury of worming my way into a novel for that long. Now I just have to write whatever comes out and move on. Literally. But maybe somewhere in this is a gift, I'm hoping. I'm looking for it. This must be about becoming a better person, or better writer, or both? Or winning a toaster? Something.

Wow, now I'm way over my 100 words. The kvetching endeth. So how are you guys? ;-)

Kathryn Stockett On Not Giving Up

2011-09-12T07:20:00.000-07:00

There's nothing that helps a writer better on a Monday morning than the backstory of a much-rejected novelist whose novel eventually became a runaway (and if there were a stronger word I would use it) bestseller and a top-rated movie.

I spent some of the morning indulging in an article about Kathryn Stockett's publishing story, in her own words, from More magazine this past May that I wanted to share with the other writers out there. The story starts with her being rejected so much that she started sneaking around behind the backs of her friends and husband to keep working on the book. Because who in their right mind would? Apparently her. Thank goodness.

I also enjoyed some of this long interview Katie Couric did with Kathryn when The Help came out in 2009, which is worth watching if you want to see the author talking about the book and her writing process.

Enjoy and be movitated - now I gotta write!

Where Are You Going?

2011-09-07T07:53:00.000-07:00

Photo by Joelk75

Here I am. Back at my desk for the first time in more than two months. The apartment is deathly still. Both the kids are nestled into chairs at school, their first day today. I've decided compulsory education is the best invention ever, more important than electricity or indoor plumbing. If you made me choose between a bathroom and a school where I could send my kids, I would not hesitate to pick the latter.

Now I'm looking around my office - a corner of our bedroom, next to a window. There are piles of paper that almost form columns: notes and feedback on The Orphan's Daughter, scraps of ideas for short stories, notebooks scribbled with journal entries or more ideas, a file box full of even more ideas, old writing and some poetry, a list of books that will form the basis of research for the next novel, a bulletin board flapping with paper that lists writing tips, my critique group schedule, quotes from writers, my Nanowrimo certificate from 2009, a few drawings from my kids, even a cooking "medal" from my husband (awarded when I confused rice with risotto and botched a whole recipe).

I am overwhelmed by the volume of writing projects at their start or midpoint, but not finished. What do I do first? Where am I going with all this?

It helps to remind myself what I want when I'm trying to prioritize what I need to do and where I'm going. What I want more than anything at the moment is to be published somewhere, with something, online or off, short or long. So the easy answer to the question "what do I do first?" is to finish the dozen or so short stories I've started since June and submit them. That will happen first every day. Write, edit, submit.

Then I'll work on the massive revisions to The Orphan's Daughter. I really don't want to revise it. I really don't. But I want a successful novel more. This will be rewrite #5. I can hardly breathe when I think about it. But based on the bits of feedback I've gotten from literary agents so far, I've convinced myself the novel won't get picked up without these revisions. I know the novel can be better.

Then I'll work on the next novel, more ambitious than the first, much more. Which means I can't wait to get started on it, but I know it will swallow me. Like the 18 months I spent deep inside The Orphan's Daughter, the same will happen with the second one. I used to think I could do other projects while I had a novel going, but I've learned I can't. The novel has to entirely take over every working hour and every dreaming one.

By the end of the calendar year, I want to have a revised manuscript for The Orphan's Daughter in the query pipeline, a finished draft of novel #2, and at least one publication credit somewhere. That would be a successful year. A very successful year. So with that, I'll sign off and get going...

Where are you going before the year is out? How will you get there?

The Many Gifts of Caroline Leavitt

2011-09-05T04:00:00.000-07:00

Author Caroline Leavitt flanked by your blogger and
Ona Gritz, Hoboken librarian and author.

In one of the early chapters of Caroline Leavitt's lovely novel Pictures of You, there is a metaphor that was so potent I immediately closed my eyes to see it. One of the novel's main characters, Charlie, has just come into the hallway of a hospital to find out if his wife is dead or alive after the car crash that opens the book in Chapter 1. Then he sees this:

"A doctor, bookended by two cops in uniform resembling Canadian Mounties, was coming toward him. All their faces were drawn, like coin purses."

I closed my eyes and I saw them: lumbering towards Charlie, down the antiseptic hallway, making a roadblock three across, their faces tight and their mouths small like coin purses tied up and closed. They were steeling themselves for something. I feared for what they were going to tell Charlie.

The Hoboken Public Library invited Caroline Leavitt, a Hobokenite, to come talk about her latest novel (her ninth!) last week and I scored a babysitter at the last minute so I could attend. I told Ms. Leavitt how much I admired the precision of her metaphors and I asked her a question that probably doesn't really have an answer. How do you get good at that?

She looked as surprised as I was about the beauty of the coin purse metaphor and others. She shrugged her shoulders in a friendly way and said, "Gosh, I just don't know. That metaphor was really a gift, wasn't it?"

The word "gift" came up again and again. Ms. Leavitt used it to describe everything about writing: ideas for characters, for scenes, for plots that move and excite, for language that delights. She said that such things don't come as much from practice or literary rule-following as they do from sheer inspiration, from the subconscious, from a territory of grace deep inside. They are gifts.

She had a few pieces of good advice about the craft that I wanted to pass on to other writers:

She does extensive work on her main characters before she ever starts writing the novel. She develops the stories of the character's parents and grandparents, even if they never appear in the book, because she believes that we are all a product of the generations that came before us.
It's important to train your subconscious -- the source of literary "gifts" -- by writing at the same time every single day.
Publish short stories, essays and articles everywhere -- it's important for new writers to get their names out. Also blog, tweet, facebook as much as possible! It's all about name recongition.
Self-publishing is going through an important change and she believes it is a viable option for authors, especially as large publishers are less and less likely to pick up and "develop" a new author if sales do not materialize. If an author goes the route of self-publishing, she recommends investing at least $5 - $10k in good publicity, marketing and promotion.
There are several semi-self-publishing houses (an author must be accepted for publication) and forums that new authors should look at: Two-Dollar Radio and Red Lemonade.

You can learn more about Caroline Leavitt and her books on her website. Thank you, Caroline, for spending time with us at the library!

Irene's Killer Language

2011-08-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Irene coming ashore in North Carolina (supposedly), by Unknown

I think I started paying attention to Hurricane Irene sometime around Thursday, when the mayor of Hoboken, New Jersey (where I live) held a press conference in which she said "It's headed straight for us!" This is what you might call, in novel terms, the inciting event. The thing that happens to get the reader's attention. Well, Irene got mine then. Or rather, the mayor's turn of phrase got it. Such a pronouncement made Irene sound more like a speeding train or a car without breaks than a weather event.

The language ascribed to Irene was one of the most powerful things about her: a storm of historic proportions... a biblical catastrophe... one of the worst storms in modern times... never before have we seen a storm like this one... a mammoth killer... a hurricane for the ages.

I watched the fatalities come across in the headlines and I came to feel that her language killed people as much as her wind and water. A fear and panic was setting in that was oddly disproportionate to the facts. Even though Irene was just a Category 1 storm, the weakest, it didn't seem to matter. Her descriptions were cataclysmic. People died hammering nails into plywood, nervously slipping from ladders, fleeing in cars that crashed from speed and loss of control, not flooding. Prepare now. We will have mandatory evacuations. Get your hurricane emergency kit together!

I was in Lower Manhattan with my two young kids on Friday afternoon when a man ran past us loaded down with liter bottles of water that were bursting the seams of his plastic shopping bags. He was sweating around the neck of his collared shirt -- perhaps he escaped early from work to prepare -- and his eyes were round and alert. My son asked me if he was really thirsty.

People all around us on Broadway, Church Street, Greenwich and Hudson were walking faster, rushing in and out of stores, impatient in lines, blowing past slower pedestrians -- and not in the usual way New Yorkers do. More in the way of people who have been told they are in the crosshairs of a 600-mile path of destruction. Wouldn't you move quicker?

When Irene blew across the Long Island Sound to where we were refugeeing in Connecticut and flashed her 100-mile long tentacles of lightning, I admit I was scared. But it was the language in my head that had my nerves so taut, not the rain and lightning outside. In fact, there hardly was any rain. It came and went, the wind gusted and slowed, the sky got dark, then lighter. But I knew my husband and I with our two kids were tiny in comparison to a storm one-third the size of the entire United States. The language surged through me like a fierce cocktail of adrenaline. And those words, they scared me. Irene and her media agents of doom combined to become the Adolf Hitler of weather systems: I was utterly submissive to their prognostications, no matter how bombastic.

But Irene was not at all how she had been written about. She rained, she whipped the trees here and there, she drenched an already drenched East Coast, and then she left. And there was nothing to say about her then. Nothing at all. Perhaps a glib that was it? Or maybe just goodbye.

The Reveal Is Everything... Or Is It?

2011-08-24T19:34:00.000-07:00

Photo by Thomas R. Stegelmann

I remember when I was reading The Da Vinci Code and I couldn't turn the pages fast enough. I wanted to know what the "breathtaking historical secret" was, an "explosive ancient truth" (quotes from the dust jacket of the hardcover). I have an attention span problem, so Dan Brown did me a big favor by hiding such a gem deep inside the book: that's because my curiosity is an even bigger problem than my attention span.

I flipped through that novel so fast that it only took me days to read. I arrived at work in a downtown Manhattan office tower one morning with only a handful of pages left -- and STILL the secret remained hidden! I did what any reader in my position would do: I sailed past my desk, ducked into the ladies' room and crouched in a stall to read through to the end. What satisfaction. Sort of. That was the big deal? The language on the dust jacket set a pretty high bar.

As I perused my bookshelf, I realized that hidden secrets are the common denominator in the books I choose: In Schlink's The Reader, how could I not want to find out "the secret more shameful than murder" that Hanna is guarding? In Styron's Sophie's Choice, it was impossible not to cling to the pages that led to the revelation of the "unbearable secret" in Sophie's past. In Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird, the secret of Boo Radley's identity and intentions weave a constant tension through every page, even as we are lulled by the poignant coming-of-age tale that Scout narrates for us. Secrets in novels abound. Curiosity is literary rocket fuel.

So when I wrote my own novel, that was my formula: come up with a secret and hide it until the near-end of the book. But I'm not sure it's working for me. Or perhaps I'm realizing I picked the wrong secret to bury. And my wonderful writer's group all but convinced me last night that the secret I hid way towards the end needs to be in the first chapter. Oy vey. I feel a rewrite hell coming on.

< Spoilers up next! >

The secret of The Orphan's Daughter is that Agnes's German father is really a Polish baby who was kidnapped from his parents' farm when he was nine months old. But the reason he was taken is why I wrote the book: he was stolen for his blond hair and blue eyes. He was Aryan. He was not destined for a concentration camp (every reader's assumption). He was destined for a German cradle and a place in the Reich.

As written now, his kidnapping is revealed to both Agnes and the reader simultaneously, about two-thirds of the way through the book. All the pages that precede it lead up to this event, but the reader doesn't know it's coming, so there's a certain thrill lacking (except "explosive" language a publisher might put on the dust jacket). I make the reader wait for it. And I think the revelation I'm coming to is that making the reader wait for anything juicy is a bad idea. So if we don't want readers to have to wait, how does a writer bury a secret?

I think one way is to take a secret and split its parts. This secret has several parts: the kidnapping event itself is a secret, but who is kidnapped is another, why is yet another. It is also a secret what happened to that baby after the kidnapping. The kidnapping could happen on page 1, but the reader doesn't know who that baby became as an adult - which character he might be. Curiosity still turns the page.

There's also tension created when the reader knows something that the protagonist doesn't know. Revealing the secret to the reader and protagonist is a simpler structure -- as an author, I don't have to "mentalize" or track the reader's deductions along the way. I can probably assume they are close to the protagonist's. But if the reader knows crucial information that the protagonist doesn't, I have another head at the table trying to work things out. That's more complicated.

The structural changes this entails are massive and give me a headache just thinking about. But when I imagine a reader coming across the kidnapping in the very first chapter, it feels like I've just strapped a jet engine onto the narrative: it will have to get off the block, and fast. So it feels like it's worth spending time on, if only for a looksee.

If you've read this far, I apologize for blowing all the intrigue of the novel, but hopefully you got something in the bargain. Maybe a new appreciation for secrets, common denominators, headaches and jet engines.

Until Monday...

Of Pillars and Goon Squads

2011-08-21T21:15:00.000-07:00

While it's been difficult to write in the last few months, it's been easier to read. I finished A Visit From The Goon Squad midway through our vacation in Spain, and although there are a lot of worthy books on my list, I went next to The Pillars of the Earth. Historical fiction is a genre I love to read and want to become good at writing. Everyone who knows this about me said I couldn't let another day pass without reading Pillars.

It was difficult to go from Goon Squad to Pillars. Goon Squad has the qualities I love in a book -- metaphors so perfectly imagined that coming across one on the page feels like opening a jewel box. Egan's writing has a poetic cadence, an edgy humor and characters who live at the margins of the ridiculous, but are just earnest enough for us to believe in them fully. Although I've met Egan and can't really be impartial, I thought Goon Squad was a bravely executed novel. Not many writers I've read recently have had the guts to present scenes to us like the one where a down-on-his-luck musician slaps a freshly caught fish onto a Midtown Manhattan office table. And it works. It's not a ridiculous scene. It's heartfelt and tragic and hilarious all at the same time. There are many reasons that Goon Squad was worthy of the Pulitzer Prize this year, but the subtlety of these kinds of scenes is certainly one of them. Such subtlety is extraordinarily difficult to write onto the page - to coax mixed emotions without the reader realizing what's happening is pure genius.

Follett's writing has none of Egan's grace. The prose in Follett's book is workmanlike and utilitarian. The tale is told with the bricks of nouns and verbs and nowhere will you find a turn of phrase that takes your breath away -- at least I haven't. But Follett's story is captivating for entirely different reasons: the transportation into a different time and place, bad guys who are frightening and good guys who are exceedingly vulnerable but gritty, page upon page of conflict, and a plot that sweeps its characters through one life-changing event after another. Such saga-weaving reminded me a lot of the Star Wars epic.

As a primer of good historical fiction (and I assume "good" because it has sold millions of copies and been made into a Cable TV miniseries), these are the lessons I've noted for my own writing:

The first sentence of Pillars sets time, place, and tone in one compact string of eight words: "The small boys came early to the hanging." Such a statement makes the setting sound as if it's a place in which hangings occur with some regularity. And if small boys come, there is an inherent lawless savagery that seems to rule. How could a reader not read on?
Follett hooks the reader quickly with several heart-wrenching "origin" stories: the tragic story of Tom Builder and his wife in the forest and the other of Prior Phillip and his parents. Although the novel is dense at times (and lacking the gentility of Egan's writing), I found myself going back again and again to the story because I wanted to know how things would turn out for these two men, who had suffered so much already.
He's judicious about where he loads the page with historical detail. He doesn't tell us much about the vegetation in the forest or clothing, for example, but he spends several pages giving a minute description of Bartholomew's castle, down to the last brick. I usually find such descriptions tedious, but in the case of the castle I felt even more transported into the setting. Follett does description with just the right balance of plot and detail.

Both novels are well worth reading, but the experience of taking them on back to back has highlighted for me how writers with such different styles can entertain in their own ways. And how subjective is art. And how varied our views on the world.

Back In The Saddle

2011-08-15T08:29:00.000-07:00

Cambrils, Spain ~ Photo by Melissa Romo

It must reveal something about the state of things in my writing career that I offhandedly chose such a cliche for the title of this post. Alas... the writer is back, but her craft muscles have atrophied a bit. As ZZ Packer warned me back in May, a writer must write every day -- not to be productive, but to be practiced (the advice is hers, the summation mine).

I knew it would be difficult to keep up with writing during a six-week stint of vacations and child-minding. But it wasn't difficult, it was impossible. I never felt like I was at just the right place, at the right time, with enough quiet and enough inclination. All excuses, I know, but there they are. I've made peace with the fact that I am notoriously bad at multi-tasking. If the agenda is "beach," that's my focus and nothing else.

I enjoyed a small period of productivity at the end of July when I discovered a quiet corner of the old Mediterranean fishing village I was in (Cambrils, Spain), with a cafe that opened early, a place I could go before my kids woke up and the day catapulted forward. The morning sun didn't reach there, the cobblestones still cool, and the air around my coffee cup felt like the last gasp of night. If you listened carefully you could hear the snore of the working man -- the fisherman, the grocer, the laborer -- at the end of his dreams. The house across from the cafe was put there in the 15th century. It is virtually impossible for me not to travel into a story when I'm surrounded by such an ambiance.

I worked on a short story there for a few mornings, writing longhand. It's about two girls, best friends since childhood, and what happens when one of the girl's fathers passes away. The friend knows a secret about the father, something that menaces her to a frenzy by the end of the story. Now that I'm back at my desk, I'm transcribing it, editing it, and will send it to magazines. I have another one about a windmill in Spain that has been on my mind, given where I was for the last month. I will clean that one up, too. And still a handful of others. It's submission time.

I will plow into the fall continuing to pitch The Orphan's Daughter to agents -- one of whom recently rejected it, after reading the first chapter, but said "I was really on the fence" because it was "so rich with detail." Ahh... that was a lovely rejection note. Not a form letter, and a few mildly encouraging reactions in the bargain.

And then there's the next novel, which is partly written, partly researched, on my mind all the time. It started out as two novel ideas - one about Corporate America and a completely different novel about bullfighting. But I think the two pieces of writing are going in the same direction, and the theme is much bigger. It feels like a theme that is so simple it threatens to be complicated, and also risks being trite if not written well: women and the choices they make in life. I don't even know how to get my arms around the topic; it feels like an enormous inflatable ball that knocks away from me just as I try to grab hold of it. I will probably do a lot of free-writing - somewhere between fiction and essay - to figure out what is there.

Now that I'm back, I will do my best to post on Mondays and Wednesdays. If you're writing or reading, I love to hear about the experiences of either, so please leave a comment!

Where can the mind find quiet?

2011-07-16T15:28:00.000-07:00

Me at Freud's window, Vienna

This question was on my mind two days ago when I visited the apartment of Sigmund Freud at Berggasse 19 on the edge of Vienna.

Freud lived at this address for close to fifty years. Every important thought he had about psychoanalysis came to him in the several rooms on the second floor of this building, many of them sitting at his desk by this window, looking at the view you see in the picture at left. I stood for a long time looking out his window, wondering about the mental fortitude it takes to come up with such new and profound ideas that they could literally change the world. The window overlooks the courtyard behind the building, with a direct view across the open space at eight small garages that would have been the spot where carriages were housed, near them horses, in Freud's day (he moved in in 1891). There were a few very tall trees- 3 or 4 stories high - that might have been saplings when he was there, if anything at all. I imagined the window letting in plenty of noise from the comings and goings of his neighbors, the raucous playing of his six children, or the braying and stench of horses. The windows face north, so light would have thinned out substantially in the afternoon, and hardly come through in the morning.

In short... this may not have been an especially quiet place. But he worked here from very early until very late while his wife tended to things in the family's living quarters in the adjoining unit. I guess what came to me is the idea that there is never quiet. The mind has to be its own citadel, its own haven, even while life happens all around it.

Goals And Other Mishaps

2011-06-24T20:38:00.000-07:00

Photo by Alasdair Middleton

If you've been following in this space over the last month, you know that my June (and the June of a few of my writing colleagues) had been dubbed the Month of Making Things Up. I pledged to write 500 words of new fiction every day (including weekends) for the entire month. I was worried, headed into June, about holding onto my writing time. My routine was on the verge of disruption, with my kids finishing school on the 22nd and our longtime babysitter leaving us. I wanted to become entrenched in a regular habit that would carry me through the summer and guarantee I would write.

I made it to June 11th and then my writing life became sucked into a vortex of end-of-the-school year mom-related duties: field days, class parties, performances, graduations, teacher gifts, thank yous, last-ditch play dates, summer camp scrambles, kiddie summer clothes purchases, travel plans, etc etc. This writer has only been in said vortex for two weeks, but it feels like two years.

My first reaction to missing a goal is to flog myself for my lack of discipline, resolve and sloppy time management. During this past week, yes, I was doing some of that. I haven't really wanted to post in this space as I was a little sheepish about falling so short. Eventually I just talked myself out of my funk the usual way: with a heavy sigh on which tumble the words, "Time to move on." I can stare at the mess and be mad about it, or I can dump it into the dustbin. Life is nothing if not a series of messes.

I also tend to fall back on the standard Corporate America response to a screw-up and ask myself "What did we learn here?" A few things -

Write longhand, not on the computer. It feels less daunting if I'm not sitting at a desk.
Although 500 words seemed like a short amount, I probably need an easier goal. Say, 250, or 4 longhand pages in a large Moleskine.
Don't let one missed day set a pattern.
Don't try to "make up" the word count by adding word count requirements onto subsequent days. That's just interest piling up, and nobody does anything with that but run in the other direction.

What also helps me move on from a missed goal is to focus on what did get accomplished: 9 brand new short stories in various stages of completion, 11,170 words of new writing. Without setting the "Month of Making Things Up" goal, even though I fell short of it, I never would have had those stories (and 500 words a day for 30 days is actually 15,000... so by the numbers, I didn't fall as short as it felt.)

Summer is going to be tough for this writer. I made the conscious decision to use the summer break to squire my two boys from one family visit to another, in the U.S. and abroad, between now and late-August. I will never be sorry to have given them time with their family, but sneaking off to write is nearly impossible while on the road with two small people. But I have a few empty notebooks tucked in my duffel bag and have set the meager goal for July of writing 4 pages longhand each day of new fiction.

Good luck to all the writers facing the summer with a schedule in turmoil. You're not alone!

Seriously, Bookstores, Please Don't Die On Me

2011-06-08T15:27:00.000-07:00

Exhibit A: A terrible iPhone pic of what my husband not-so-lovingly refers to as "the useless cabinet." I'm showing this to you to illustrate a point - an obvious one, sorry - about just how precious paper books have become.

There are three things in this cabinet (some of which my husband seems to find useless, but I don't want to get off the point...): 1) a silver service that my best friend gave me on my wedding, 2) my grandmother's 50+ year-old set of Rosenthal china she brought back from Germany, and 3) approximately 40 or so hardcover books. Books. Ones with covers that are hard, that you can put a child on top of to eat, or stop a door with, or flatten a drying-out flower between two paper towels.

When I was in my 20s and I lived in an itty bitty Manhattan apartment with a college friend, I signed up for the Book of the Month Club. The BOMC sent me a box of new books every month (ok, that probably didn't need to be explained). I got beautiful sets of Edith Wharton and E.M. Forster, with watercolor-illustrated dust jackets. They sent new thrillers and classics of literature whose titles were stamped out with gold embossing. I loved them. I loved to look at them. A few of them I read, but mainly I had what I can only describe now as a fetish for bound paper. I still have it. I think all the Kate's Paperie locations in Manhattan are considering a restraining order.

So you can imagine the shortness of breath I feel every time I see an article in the press about a bookstore closing. When I was in California for Memorial Day, I walked past the ex-location of a B&N that was being turned into an H&M. In the morning paper, I saw a notice that a huge Borders location in Thousand Oaks was being turned into an entertainment venue. And entertainment, in their definition, does not involve books.

Well, I'm proud, or sad, or nervous, to tell you that my little town of Hoboken has recently made headlines on two fronts. One is: Kim Kardashian is moving in. Fantastic. The other is: Hoboken is home to the last surviving bookstore in the ENTIRE Hudson County. What is scary about that is that this bookstore contains only donated books (MBA translation: cost of goods sold = $0.00) and their rent is either partially or wholly paid by the ex-mayor (MBA translation: land, buildings, and machinery = dirt cheap). And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the only bookstore that can make ends meet enough to keep their doors open. It's like knowing that a few blocks away from where I sit and write everyday there is a dying patient on life-support, wheezing through a tube.

Oh. God.

The Bookstore To End All Bookstores

2011-06-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

Photo by Roger Schultz

Uh, huh. I don't even need to write a post, do I?

This is the Libreria El Ateneo in Buenos Aires. It's an old theatre converted to a bookstore, with tiny reading nooks in all the theatre boxes and a cafe on the stage. My husband and I were in BA for our honeymoon and ended up "stumbling" across it, a place The Guardian named #2 in its list of the World's Top Ten Bookshops. (See the other nine here, but then come back!)

You know how, on honeymoons, you're kind of oddly looking for that tiny hint of a clue that you might have made a gigantic mistake picking the person you did to marry? Admit it. It happens. Well, when we newlyweds found ourselves here and stayed...for hours... I knew I picked the right guy. My Spanish husband wound his way through the shelves occupied by Perez-Reverte, Zafon and the other Spanish novelists. I got lost looking for poetry by Neruda, Lorca, and anything that might be thrown around on the shelves in English. We found each other on the stage, up there, behind that red velvet curtain, both of us with armfuls of books. He ordered a cortado (because he's Spanish) and I ordered a cafe con leche (because ella es Americana), and we sat. And we read. And we drank coffee. I don't remember much of what I read. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I revisited the El Ateneo when working on my 500 words for the Month of Making Things Up (#momtu on Twitter!) this morning. I was reallllly stuck. I didn't know what I wanted to write. The album from my honeymoon was on a bookshelf in my field of vision, so I pulled it down. There were a few cute pictures of me (we're all cute when we get married, aren't we?) in the bohemian Boca section of Buenos Aires. So started the story: Mercy, a gawky American girl, at a tango lesson in Boca with a sexy Argentinian instructor who makes her feel bad about the bloat from her lunch. Mercy also goes every Saturday night for a Spanish conversation group at ... El Ateneo.

I'm still working on the story, but I wanted to share this beautiful bookstore dream with you. It is reason enough to go to Buenos Aires, though there are hundreds of others. If books could tango, this is where they would do it.

**

If you're on Twitter, look for my tweets with hashtag #momtu all during the month of June for the Month of Making Things Up!

**

Making Things Up Is Better With Friends

2011-06-02T10:45:00.000-07:00

Photo by Fernando Garcia Redondo

It's so much more fun to not be on the stage by oneself. So I have to really thank Charlotte, Lily and Ry for adventuring into the June Month of Making Things Up with me. I was prepared to go it alone, but this is much, much better. And it's not just about accountability, either. It's that, when I sit down to try to find the 500 words of something newly made-up, I'll know the other three of them are doing the same - two of us in California, me by the Big Apple here, and one in Germany. And I can't forget to mention a few Tweeps who've sign up, too: @Tiffany_A_White and @melissasmith78. Across the miles, the six of us wanting to be better fiction writers on June 30 than we were on June 1. How cool is that?

Although it's too early to declare a wild victory (hey, I'm always looking for the opportunity), I have had a good two days. I did about 1,500 words yesterday and 2,000 today. I didn't plan for that. It's just that by the time I got to the goal of 500 words, something had started on the page, a story was forming, and I wanted to see what would happen so I just kept writing. I ended up with two short stories: Kitty, about a fourteen-year-old girl whose classmate disappears and Magic Kingdom, about a down-on-her-luck waitress in L.A. who gets pregnant.

And if you're coming across this post and thinking "I could never pull two stories out of thin air," I'm here to tell you that you can. Just with the goal of writing 500 words. I had no idea about Kitty and Magic Kingdom when I sat down. (And I don't stick titles on them until their completely written.) I only knew the first line of each story. For Kitty, I just had in my head: "Her name was Stacy, but everyone just called her Kitty." And for Magic Kingdom, I was missing L.A., where I had just spent the Memorial Day weekend. I wanted to write a story that would let me go back there for a quick mental visit. And I loved the palm trees, the really, really tall ones. While we were walking on the beach in Santa Barbara, my husband told me they had been brought over from Australia, which surprised me. I figured California could have grown their own. Anyway, the only thing I had in my head was this sentence: "Lori liked palm trees, the tall ones, the ones that had been brought over centuries earlier from Australia." So, as you can see, I'm not straying wildly from where my head is already -- at least to start. After I wrote those sentences, I just followed the story until something interesting happened. And it always does, because life is interesting.

Lastly, I will restate what I've always felt, which is that there is no such thing as "feeling like writing." If you sit, then type (or write), then you will write. Something will come out. It will. Even a grocery list. But first, you must sit. And write.

Good luck to Charlotte, Ry and Lily on a good month of making things up. I can't wait to hear what you come up with!

Now... anybody else?!

**

The Month of Making Things Up

2011-06-01T04:00:00.000-07:00

Photo by Shellaine Godbold

Sometimes you hear things that were so very much meant to be heard by you. In my case, it was a couple of weeks ago when I went to hear the author ZZ Packer talk about the craft of writing. She said that daily writing wasn't about productivity. It was about not getting out of the practice of writing. She reminded us that if you go too long without daily writing, you'll forget the finer points of the craft. Oh, no. That scared me.

The reason this was meant for me is because, for me, daily writing has been ALL about productivity. I started 2011 with an Excel worksheet with goals for daily word counts, pages revised, hours doing research and social media milestones like Followers and Likes and so on. Part of this is just my personality (she never met a goal she didn't like) and part of this was drilled into me when I worked in Corporate America (because they never met a goal they didn't like). And I have a fetish for Excel, I'll admit it.

I posted daily updates to that Excel sheet for exactly one month. No surprise that by February I was fed up with it, off my targets, and hoping it would just fade back into the woodwork of my workspace. So what ZZ Packer said to me a few weeks ago was kind of liberating. Don't write FOR something. Just write to write. How bold. How totally unlike me. So I'm going to try it.

Lately, I've been getting away from just plain old fiction writing because I've been doing a lot of other things related to my pursuit of a writing career: querying my novel to literary agents, blogging, Tweeting, networking, critiquing and occasionally, writing. But writing shouldn't be the last thing that comes on my list of "to do's" and it has slipped to that point. Not good.

So for the month of June, I will write 500 words of fiction every day. A short story, or part of a larger work, or just an experiment towards some character in my head. But something fiction, made up, invented, and 500 words of it. I thought about putting a counter on my blog and updating it every day, but then I realized I was doing it again. That hyperactive goal-setting, productivity thing. So, no, I'm not going to create something I have to update. I'm just going to write 500 words. Every day. All 30 days of the month. Post a comment if you want to join me and I'll check in on your blog to see how you're doing. Or maybe I won't check in. Maybe we'll both just write.

**

Meeting Jennifer Egan...EEEEK!

2011-05-29T15:00:00.000-07:00

"I'm working on a novel..."

*Smile*

"gigantic good wishes on your work!!"

OK, so just give me this brief moment to replay what an ass I made of myself last week at the Housing Works Bookstore Cafe in Manhattan. But who cares. I met Jennifer Egan. And here's the thing: when I told her I was working on a novel (and who isn't?), she stopped signing my book and gave me a huge thumbs up. Huge. She even had to reposition her pen to do it. And it wasn't in this "what a sucker, she's never going to amount to anything in the world of novelists" kind of pitiful way. It was in a "way to go for the brass ring, keep at it" kind of way.

I had been terrified to go up to her. My two writing friends (BugginWord and All She Writ) who went with me to the reading will tell you. I mean, she won a Pulitzer Prize. Just, like, two months ago. She's the novelist of the moment. I haven't met many novelists, and she's the first one I've met who's won the Pulitzer. What she doesn't know is that I practically line-edit Pulitzers, trying to study what make them truly great literature. Including hers. I could have locked her in the ladies' room for three hours and picked her brain if it wouldn't have been close to illegal.

After circling nervously, I did eventually go up to her and stick out my copy of A Visit From The Goon Squad. She could have signed it with a smiley face and I would have been stoked. But she asked my name, and even how to spell it, which I had to think about for a second. Then I smiled, blabbed about my own novel, and then pretty much said nothing else. Not "congrats on the Pulitzer." Not "I loved your book." Not "I'm a big fan." Nothing. I just smiled, goofy, starstruck.

Lemming-like, I looked her up on Twitter when I got home with the intention of becoming an all-out stalker. She is @jenniferegan and she has 41 followers and 0 Tweets. So I'm not following her. It's clearly not her medium.

*Sigh.* Jennifer, you're cool to even care about what I'm doing. Thanks for not being a snob, because you have all the creds to be. And that would have bummed me out. Now back at it...

Thoughts on The Memory Keeper's Daughter

2011-05-25T04:00:00.000-07:00

The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards has been on my TBR for a long time and I finally got to it when I spotted it on a friend's bookshelf recently and she generously let me take it home. It was published in 2005, so that tells you how much of a backlog I have.

I did not adore this book. I was attracted to it by the cover (I have a fetish for good covers) and because of the truly cataclysmic "inciting incident" that occurs in the first chapter - that of a father secretly giving away his newborn daughter when he realizes she has Down syndrome. He's a doctor, so he can spot these things. He tells his wife, who is in a post-labor blur, that the baby girl died. The daughter is taken away and raised by his nurse, Caroline.

So once you read that, which is on the back of the book and is essentially the marketing hook, you continue turning the pages because you want to know one thing: will the secret be revealed, when, and by whom. It underscored for me that even a mediocre book (read on) can be a New York Times bestseller if the marketing hook is visceral enough.

There were a few reasons I did not adore this book. I found the character of the doctor's wife, the horrifically wronged mother of the given-away baby, to be utterly self-absorbed and, as the book progressed, less and less interesting. There were even moments when I flat out didn't like her and found her to be a snob. The doctor's life also takes on a classic "oh, what have I done" pattern after he makes the decision to give away his daughter and then has to live with the secret. It's what you expect, which I never like much in a novel. I want to be surprised.

There was one thing I found virtuosic: Edwards' descriptions of Phoebe, the girl with Down syndrome. She gets everything exactly right - the body language, the facial expressions, the joy, the eyes, the voice. It's amazing how well studied Phoebe's scenes are, how well I see her, and how much I really ache for the decision her father made on the day she was born. Here's a beautiful scene, Phoebe as a teenager with her boyfriend:

When he finally settled down in the seat next to her, still talking, Phoebe simply smiled up at him. It was a radiant smile; she held nothing back. No reserve, no caution, no waiting to make sure he felt the same surging love. Caroline closed her eyes at her daughter's naked expression of emotion -- the wild innocence, the risk! But when she opened them again Robert was smiling back, as pleased by Phoebe, as wonderstruck, as if a tree had cried out his name.

But back to the marketing hook: the baby is given away, and you wonder throughout the book if she will be reunited with her real family. As I got closer to the end, I realized how impossible it would be to end this book. If the birth mother does not find out, I would be angry. If she does, the mother's reaction seems like it could only be strangely underwhelming. Everything would be known, followed by shock, followed by sadness, followed by the last page of the book. And given that I grew to have so little sympathy for the mother, I didn't care if she found out or not.

The decision to give away the baby is made in the dark of night, in a driving snowstorm, as the doctor is having an out-of-body moment of panic and fear. It is an absurd decision, and we know he's half-crazy to make it. So how can a writer bring an absurd decision to its conclusion? In this example, I just don't think it could be possible. In a novel that does not tread into the realm of mysticism or fantasy or the surreal, any kind of real ending to such an otherworldly beginning could only have the effect of a candle blowing out in a fizzle.

The Indie 500 Booklist Is Now the Indie 180

2011-05-22T10:00:00.000-07:00

I've been a little underground making the Indie 500 Booklist easier to use, and making a few other changes:

I've retooled the list as the "Indie 180," and will stop the list at 180 books rather than 500. The main reason is that it was getting harder to find books that fit my criteria for the list and I wanted to keep the quality high.
On a single page, you'll now find links to all the titles on the list, directly to either Smashwords or Amazon, where you can read more and buy the book.
There are quick links back to the blurb I wrote when the book was added.
At the top of each genre section, you'll see the three covers that I think look the most "pro."

Even though self-publishing has exploded in the last few years with the proliferation of e-readers and print-on-demand, a lot of readers I talk to still say they've never read a self-published book. It's certainly true that the "stigma" of self-publishing is fading, but it seems many readers are still wary of getting a bad pick. It's also just plain hard to find them. Most are not in the bookstores, and even if they're HUGE sellers (hello, Amanda Hocking) they'll never be listed as a NY Times Bestseller.

So I started this list with the goal of finding as many self-published novels as I could that we could truly call "good." Mainly I've done this because I believe in the innovation of self-publishing, and I don't think it helps any of us who love books that many gorgeous babies are tossed out with the grimy bathwater of bad prose.

Hopefully these are 180 babies we will want to brag about to our reader friends. Click here to go directly to the NEW and IMPROVED Indie 180.

Happy reading!

**

ZZ Packer On Writing

2011-05-10T20:16:00.000-07:00

She was a little more giggly than I was expecting, and immediately charming. ZZ Packer, one of The New Yorker magazine's annointed "20 Under 40" writers of 2010, spoke to a cozy crowd of about thirty people Tuesday night about the craft of writing. We met in a conference room, the chairs auditorium style, on the third floor of Wells Fargo's office on Park Avenue. (The event was sponsored by Yale University, which is how we ended up there.) Everything said "banking," except for her, and her words.

She stood at a small podium at the front, stretching her long fingers out over the thin microphone, adjusting it often. She read first from her best-selling short story collection, Drinking Coffee Elsewhere. The excerpt was a light-hearted story about childhood and singing whose prose got a few laughs from us at points. After, she read a scene from her upcoming historical novel (from a dog-eared set of 8 1/2 x 11 pages) tentatively entitled The Thousands. The section she read was gut-grabbing: a black man runs from a dog, up a tree, then down again to distract the dog from attacking his deaf sister.

After her readings, she talked about the two projects, the writing craft, and generously took many of our questions. Here are a few highlights of what she had to say --

On getting started with writing...

She said she tried to write important, impressive prose when she first started. She thought that would make her a "good" writer. Then she realized such an effort was strangling her honesty and her own voice.
We all laughed when she said that, while she was in college, she originally had in mind this ideal of being a cross between Toni Morrison, Nabakov and Flannery O'Connor - with James Baldwin thrown in the mix somehow.

On writing short stories vs. novels...

Short stories rely on the intensity of short, momentary experiences.
The short story is an affair; the novel is more like a marriage.
Sometimes novels can get "flabby" and the reader will be so hypnotized by the story that they'll forgive spots where the prose gets soft. That's not as possible in a short story.
Writing a novel is like running a marathon. It tests the writer in a profound way - it takes discipline, stamina and willpower to stay with something so big for so long.

On her writing process...

To be a writer, you have to be both humble and egotistical. Humble, in order to recognize what's not perfect and needs to be better. Egotistical, to be able to have the guts to face a blank page every day.
She starts with poetry sometimes (which she says she has "failed" at), or some other project that is "no big deal." If she tells herself "today I'm going to work on THE NOVEL," she gets so freaked out it becomes tempting to just do the laundry instead.
She keeps the work of the moment small - she thinks in scenes more often than in overall architecture.
A lot of mastering process is just about being attentive to what you're doing - the scene you're in, the dialogue you're writing. Be present in the writing.
You have to write every day. Writing everyday is not so much about productivity, it's about staying in practice. It becomes that much harder to start again if you take days or weeks off.

On getting published...

When she sent out a manuscript, she had no expectations. So everytime she was offered publication it was a big surprise.
Because she expected rejection, she asked in every submission cover letter for the editor to give her feedback on her writing, which many did. Much more than for her peers, who didn't ask for the feedback.

On finding your own voice...

It takes time to "hear" what you sound like. The best thing to do is to train yourself to recognize when you're being false. Many stories can be competently written, but lack heart and be soulless. Ask yourself: is there a heart there? Is there something real in what I'm writing?
When you write, especially when you create characters, you have to do the work of unpacking your own psychology. If you're really writing from the heart, it should feel pretty uncomfortable at first. That's good. That means you're being honest.

May 9 - New This Week on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-05-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

I stuck as close to my criteria this week as I could, but I'll admit it's getting harder. More on that next week... For now, here are 10 novels that caught my eye - literally. I scrolled through Amazon on my iPhone looking at books and found myself clicking wherever a cover caught my eye on the little screen. And here a few of them - authors take note!

Claire's Not-So-Gothic Romance by Bonnie Blythe
This cover is, in a word, yum. The story sounds just as good. A humorous, light-hearted Christian romance about "plain, repressed and broke" Claire Parnell and her dreams of finding the same "hard-fought happiness as her favorite literary heroine... Jane Eyre." I love Claire already!

Chasing Bees by Renate M. Bell

If you're struggling with something in your life (who isn't?), this sounds like a good book to read. The main character is beekeeper Faye Lawson, grieving over the sudden death of her husband. Here's how one reviewer put it: Chasing Bees is a wonderful example of coping with life lessons, working through emotional trauma and arriving victorious as a stronger person.

The Woman Upstairs by Mary W. Walters

From the product description: Diana Guthrie is a young woman struggling between her sense of what she "ought" to do and her need to believe she is more than a puppet manipulated by other people. When she learns that her powerful and controlling mother-whom she hasn't seen in 15 years-is dying, she hurries back to her childhood home. There she is faced with memories and conflicts that threaten to prevent her from climbing the stairs that will take her to her mother's bedside. Will she find the courage to face her mother before it is too late? **Winner of the Writers Guild of Alberta (Canada) Award for Excellence in Writing**

Oasis by Bryce Beattie

From the product description: One night after a marathon shift in the emergency room, Corbin St. Laurent sees a Red Cross trailer offering free vaccinations. He quickly discovers something is terribly wrong, but it's too late. Terrorists have used the trailer as a front to inject dozens of people with a deadly virus that takes over the mind and controls the body.

The Pirate Bride by Ryan and Anna McKinley

Perhaps all those summer sojourns to the Outer Banks growing up has predisposed me to like a good pirate tale now and then. I was excited to find this one, but one note is that the reading level is ages 9-12. Frankly, that's about all my brain can handle after a day in the sun so I'm adding it here as it will likely make it into my beach bag this summer. From the product description: A wipeout catapults 13-year-old Rachel and her surfboard to a strange part of the ocean, far away from land and her family. Rescue arrives, or so Rachel thinks, in the form of an old sailing vessel. She quickly realizes that her heroes are lost pirates, some of which regard her as a threat, others which believe her to be their own rescuer-The Pirate Bride.

Megan's Way by Melissa Foster
There's no other way to say it. This sounds like a tough story. But life is tough, and sometimes books that 'go there' help us make it through. Of note is that this book has been widely reviewed (49 reviews as of this posting), almost all of them glowing. From the product description: When Megan Taylor, a single mother and artist, receives the shocking news that her cancer has returned, she'll be faced with the most difficult decision she's ever had to make. She'll endure an emotional journey, questioning her own moral and ethical values, and the decisions she'd made long ago. The love she has for her daughter, Olivia, and her closest friends, will be stretched and frayed.

When It's Too Late To Tell by J. Evan Johnson
Oh my, here's another cover that I just love, and the title is breathtakingly intriguing. Says one reviewer: When It's Too Late to Tell is written with so much passion and so much truth that it is easy for everybody to identify with at least one character in the novel. The characters experience realistic problems in life, facing questions of faith, honesty, devotion, and deliverance from past decisions that haunt us for a lifetime.

Heaven Sake by Joe Verwiel
This is one of those books I would just love to see made into a movie. I smile just imagining the main character muddling through his predicament. Here's a bit from the product description: Escorted by [his guardian angel] Barkley, Harry arrives in Eternity only to discover he must return-"It's not yet your time," he is told, "and no one may be admitted early." Even in Heaven there are rules. "But his body has been destroyed," points out Barkley. "How's that going to work? Harry was hit by a truck." Angel Savonere is summoned and devises a plan. Harry is given the body of a stuffy Englishman living on a large estate near London. Harry Taylor is now Bromley Carter, a wealthy wine merchant. Humorous twists develop as the "dormant" happy-go-lucky Harry begins to intrude on staid and proper Bromley.

Precession by Abigail Arrington
From the product description: Attorney Riley Morgan is still recovering from a devastating personal loss when a long-time friend and colleague convinces her to take on a new high-profile client at her Florida law firm. Little does she know the case will soon have federal agents knocking at her door and a highly skilled special agent, Kent Donovan, working behind the scenes to uncover a fraudulent enterprise that spans continents. Still, for Riley, the gravest danger may be the one her new client, Evan Cole, poses to her well-guarded heart.

Cold Eyes by Romina Wilcox
From the product description: A prominent Stanford researcher, Dr. Brett Russell, is found dead the morning he is to present his latest medical breakthrough to a world-wide audience in San Jose, California. The discovery sends shockwaves throughout the Silicon Valley all the way to Europe. Dr. Marianne Dobbins, his wife, receives the news of her husband's death while in Rome with their two daughters, shopping for the wedding gown of the oldest daughter, Lisa. The news brings fear to her heart--has someone uncovered her secret of twenty-five years?

**

May 2 - This Week's Indie 500 TItles

2011-05-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

The Indie 500 Booklist is a list of self-published fiction titles (a "to be read" list) that have passed my own self-styled test for quality. Occasionally, I depart from the criteria but usually I stick to it.
New today - a double-issue list of 20 given the Easter break last week:

Annie Begins by Michelle Toth
Buy this book because Michelle Toth is a self-published author who knows what she's doing. The book was launched only a little over a month ago and it already has 17 five-star reviews. I know some NYT bestsellers that have trouble getting that many. The opening scene is Annie, out for dinner with an old crush, who just tells her he's getting a divorce. Zowee. What's Annie going to do? And you love Annie from the first paragraph, fretting about parking and her impractical shoes as she's rushing to the dinner. Bravo, Michelle! I can't wait to read more. **This book is a current semifinalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Awards (finalists to be announced late May)**

Fierce Dawn by Amber Scott
Again, pushing myself out of my comfort zone. This is a paranormal romance that is loved by those who read the genre so I will defer to their expertise. Said one reviewer: A fun, sexy mix of multiple paranormal elements all spun together in a suspense-filled page-turner!

Justice Seed by Logan Alberts
From the product description: Before his parents separated in the late 1970s, fifteen-year-old Jimmy was passive and dreaded weekends because of his alcoholic father. After moving to a nearby Indiana town and witnessing the abuse of a friend, he acted on a decision to amend unfair treatment. His vigilante philosophy met validation with early success, but was not fail-safe. Both influence and action come with responsibility and consequences. Justice Seed is a carefully paced coming-of-age tale.

Across The Sea by Eric Marier
An irresistible (for me) blend of history: 16th century England, the lost city of Atlantis, the Spanish Armada and a twelve-year-old boy named Francis Bright at the center of his older brother's mysterious disappearance.

Inside The Mirrors by Jason Davis
This book is "spooksville central." Creepy. (But isn't that awesome?) From the product description: The story of the little Midwestern town of Standard. However, there is nothing standard about Standard, as the residents are slowly starting to go crazy.

The Yaakmen of Tyrie by Mark Paul Jacobs
I'm so impressed by people who can create entire other worlds, including how long their years are (1 year in this world equals 7 in ours, like dogs.) From the product description: The Yaakmen of Tyrie is set on an alien world with a double moon where men’s lives span only ten or eleven long years. Quintar is a Yaakman who realizes his destiny... and embarks on a harrowing journey into the unknown wilderness on a quest to unravel Tyrie’s greatest mystery.

Have You Seen Her? by Chicki Brown
Sadly, there are a lot of women struggling to get out of unhealthy relationships. This sounded like a good tale on that theme. From one reviewer: Chicki Brown's Have You Seen Her is about a woman in an unhealthy relationship and what she does to find herself... you'll root for Marcia all the way.

Trojan Horse by David Lenders
Here's one that's a little on topic, given last night's news about Bin Laden. From one reviewer: This is one of the most creative and ominously realistic terrorist schemes I've heard of. ** No. 20 on Kindle's Fiction Bestseller list as of this posting **

Music for the Sun King: Murder and Mystery at Versailles by Lindy Vinke
When I was an exchange student in Nantes, I had to write an essay about the Sun King, Louis XIV, all in French. My French family just wrinkled their faces when they read it. Oh well. I have a feeling Lindy's interpretation might be a little better than mine.

Recovery (Nicci Beauvoir series) by Alexandra Weis
A heroine writer from New Orleans caught up in a whodunit mystery. Sounds vaguely like a Nancy Drew for grown-ups, which is my highest endorsement!

Sleight: Book One of the AVRA-K by Jennifer Sommersby
From the product description: When circus-dwelling Gemma Flannery learns she will be attending public school for the first time in her seventeen years, little does she know that fitting in with her 12th-grade classmates will be the least of her concerns.

Meant To Be by Tiffany King
This is YA, but it's become the norm for adults to read YA these days, so I'm going to include it (as I have a few others so far). Here's one reviewer's take: MEANT TO BE is a combination of all the things I love: paranormal romance, mystery, suspense, humor and intrigue plus some unforeseen plot twists and turns. It is an amazing book with exceptional characters, amazing plot and a great twist away from the usual fare of the genre.

The Soulkeepers by G.P. Ching
From the product description: When fifteen-year-old Jacob Lau is pulled from the crumpled remains of his mother's car, no one can explain why he was driving or why the police can't find his mother's body...

Dream Smashers by Angela Carlie
From one reviewer: I could probably extol the merit of this work of art for hours... Ms. Carlie should be praised for her bravery with the subject matter and for her exquisite writing style. It is a must read for anyone who enjoys books dealing with heavy social issues and those who are fans of coming of age stories with hope and a light at the end of the tunnel.

Eternal Eden by Nicole Williams
This cover grabbed me and illustrates my "book as object" fetish. I would buy it just to have it and be able to see it on my shelf. But alas, my biggest disappointment is it's only available as an ebook! Please, Nicole, sell it in paperback! From one reviewer: I was not expecting this book to be so well written. I feel a lot of these indy writers have great ideas but their writing is very flawed. Not the case with Eternal Eden. Nicole Williams can write!

Glimpse (Zellie Wells Book 1) by Stacey Wallace Benefiel
Boy is this premise a grabber. What if you could see your future, but only for a quick second? I also love the perspective that "like 35" is old. Sigh. From the product description: Zellie Wells has a devastating crush on Avery Adams, the son of her mom’s high school sweetheart. At her sixteenth birthday party... as Avery takes her hand and leads her out onto the makeshift dance floor, Zellie is overwhelmed by her first vision of his death; shocking because not only are they both covered in his blood, but they’re old, like 35, and she is pregnant.

Hush Money (Talent Chronicles) by Susan Bischoff
I love it when writers write in their power alley. Bischoff loves superheroes, and that's basically what this story is about. From the product description: Talents are people born with supernatural powers, feared by the population at large. Possession of an “unregistered ability” has become illegal, and those who are discovered are forcibly removed to government-run research facilities. They do not return. And so the Talents try, as best they can, to keep their abilities secret–some more successfully than others. For some, keeping that secret begins to define who they are. That’s where Hush Money begins…

In Theda Bara's Tent by Diana Altman
It's rare for self-published work to be mentioned in the industry bible, Publisher's Weekly, but this one was. Here is a snippet from PW's review: Altman frames a vibrant story about early Hollywood and a tumultuous time in American history. Readers with an even passing interest in the history of Hollywood will be enthralled.

For The Love of Art by Janet Goodfriend
Get your beach bag ready and put this one in it! Here's a bit from the product description: Meet Bridget, a klutzy, desperate to publish writer postponing her return to academia. Find Kelsey strumming her guitar through marital calamity and trying not to botch her responsibilities as a working mom. Add Dani, their broodingly analytic, art loving friend, and join them for a Mother's Retreat on Martha's Vineyard, that splendid island off Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Once there, discover the stolen painting of the handsome artist you've just had the pleasure of meeting in a stirring sculpture garden. Now what would you do if that stolen painting became the urgently sought treasure to all the islanders because there became an enticing fiscal reward?

Dina's Lost Tribe: A Novel by Brigitte Goldstein
From the product description: An American historian's search for her mythical birthplace leads her to an isolated mountaintop utopia and the passionate world of a medieval Jewess...

**

The Indie 500 List Will Return on May 2

2011-04-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

Hello and Happy Easter!

Please return on May 2nd for a double helping of the Indie 500 Booklist. The curator is presently at work eating the ears off of chocolate bunnies and wishes you all a good holiday.

A Basket of Book Blog Goodies

2011-04-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

Photo Credit

Just in time for Easter, here are some calorie-free book blogs that are so yummy it makes me want to coat them in chocolate and sprinkle them with sugar for you. Or dye them pretty colors. Read and enjoy!

The Blog: A Kindle In Hong Kong
Why It's Yummy: Shannon is an expat who reviews books from her perch in Hong Kong. She sprinkles in sights and sounds of where she is, visits with authors, local bookfairs and occasional book insights from the Chinese. One of my favorite posts was when she wrote about what the other people on her commuter train were reading. Felt like I was right there!

The Blog: For The Love of Books
Why It's Yummy: I trust that Book Girl's reviews are entirely honest. Many book blogs are honest about their reviews, but with BG I feel a special earnestness. I have a soft spot for earnest. Whenever I'm trying to pick a book, I really like feeling like I'm getting the straight story. Special kudos to BG for the "musings" posts (more please!), and for loving Shelley's Frankenstein, which I also love. Most romantic tale ever.

The Blog: Tales From The Reading Room
Why It's Yummy: I hope litlove doesn't mind the moniker, but I think of her as the matriarch of all book blogs, perhaps of blogs in general. If you visit her site you'll see why: her posts date back to 2006 and she has a blogroll as long as the Great Wall of China. But the true of joy of reading litlove is that she is an essayist. A writer whose view of books, and the larger world, have been eye-opening, comforting and educational for me. Visit her with a warm cup of tea in hand, because you'll probably be there awhile.

The Blog: Charlotte's Web
Why It's Yummy: Charlotte just has an awesome way to turn a phrase. Here's one: "‘Tis the season to be unbelievably busy and my attention span for reading is like that of a fruit bat in an apple orchard." See what I mean? She's also blogging from parts distant from me - Germany - so I enjoy the visit to her site for the insights on books, writing and her environs as well.

The Blog: Big Al's Books and Pals
Why It's Yummy: Focus, ah, focus. Big Al provides news, reviews and commentary relevant to Kindle books and works by independent authors. (Some of the Indie 500 books are reviewed there, which probably means I should be linking you all over there more. Will get to that...) He also had an unfortunate run-in with a disatisfied author recently that set the blog world on fire. But kudos to Al, he kept his cool and didn't change his review.

The Blog: English Major's Junk Food
Why It's Yummy: This blog champions the simple joy of reading a good story, regardless of its "literary" merit. As someone who finds Dan Brown both a compelling storyteller and a not-so-great writer, I could really relate to the mission here. (And best name for a book blog ever, in my opinion.)

The Blog: Books and Chocolate
Why It's Yummy: Karen is just a scary, voracious reader. Scary. I don't know how she reads as much as she does and still sleeps. You can find tons of titles reviewed on her site across a variety of genres. And the chocolate thing? Yes. I couldn't agree more.

The Blog: Jenny's Books
Why It's Yummy: Jenny is another from the voracious reader school. I think she reads about six to eight books a month on average. I imagine this is what life is like without TV, but I still don't know how she does it. Like Books and Chocolate, there's a wide variety here and nice, concise reviews.

**

Apr 18 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-04-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

Twitter has become a good place for me to discover new, independent fiction. (And I was a Twitter doubter for a long time, but have recently decided it has done more for the written word than even movable type and the Gutenberg bible. More on that in an upcoming post...)

If you're curious about finding your own independent fiction, type these hashtags into the "search" bar on Twitter to find authors and readers who are talking about new, self-published titles: #kindle #ebooks #nook #indieauthors #selfpublishing #bestseller4aday. And what's even more fun is "following" the author and tweeting with them. As much as I might adore Stephen King, he's never going to reply back to one of my tweets like a self-pubbed author will. (And I don't believe he's even on Twitter, though his son, @Joe_Hill, is and I count myself among his 75,000 followers.)

Here are ten books that I've found on Twitter recently, checked on Amazon, and found to be Indie 500-worthy:

Anathema: Cloud Prophet Trilogy: Book One by Megg Jensen
From the 'Amanda Hocking' school, here's a Young Adult paranormal title that's one of a series. One reviewer says: Megg Jensen did a fabulous job creating a world that readers can enter into. The characters were well developed and very likable. I highly recommend this book.

By A Thread by Marty Beaudet
International intrigue. My favorite kind. Here's from the product description: The streets of Vienna: A handsome Kuwaiti walks up and introduces himself to Mormon missionary Kevin "Red" Davis. A week later the U.S. President is dead, the Vice President in a coma. Chaos reigns as the Supreme Court overturns the Presidential Succession Act of 1947, and a power struggle ensues. Is a conspiracy afoot?

My Frankenstein by Michael J. Lee
Mary Shelley's tale is one of my favorites, so I was excited to find this. From the product description: In his debut fantasy novel, Michael J. Lee retells the classic story by Mary Shelley as a dark romance with steampunk overtones.

Caraliza by Joel Blaine Kirkpatrick
From the product description: A seventy-five year old secret waits in a lovely old portrait studio, at the end of a street in New York City's Lower East Side. It is a secret, that drove to madness, a renowned photographer, 'Papa' Menashe Reisman, and left him to waste and die in his own studio, but haunted by every photograph he tries to take.

Madness and Murder by Jenny Hilborne
This may be completely off, but the description of this book and the cover (Golden Gate Bridge) immediately took me back to that campy but lovable 1978 crime movie Foul Play with Goldie Hawn and Chevy Chase. Here's from the product description: Frustrated by the rising body count and lack of evidence, veteran homicide detective Mac Jackson questions his own ethics when he risks the life of an innocent young woman to trap a cunning and sadistic serial killer.

Silver Thaw by Amy Rose Davis
From the product description: In a mining town filled with forgotten men and used up women, a handcuffed girl and her deaf guard arrive just as a blizzard descends. Lured by the girl's singing and driven by an old obsession, one man releases an ancient spirit that could destroy the town and the estate it supports.

The Usurper by Cliff Ball
Described as "Clancy-esque" by one reviewer. From the product description: Gary Jackson is raised to hate. Hate the United States, and everything it has ever stood for. His mission is to destroy the country from within, allying himself with America's enemies, and one very powerful and malevolent billionaire, to accomplish the deed. Once elected to the highest position in the land, Gary puts his lifelong goals to work...will they succeed or will the United States be relegated to the dustbin of history?

Blood Opal by Carole Sutton
From the product description: Those who harm it - die, goes the legend of the rare and beautiful Blood Opal. But Pug Germaine believes her husband's brutal murder has more to do with the slaughtered woman in his arms than the curse of any stone. When, one of the robbers double-crosses the others, they all lose their prize. The villains suspect Pug knows the opal's whereabouts.

The Hambledown Dream by Dean Mayes
Is this possibly a romance written by a guy!!?? How cool is that? From the product description: Australian Denny Banister had it all; a successful career, a passion for the guitar and Sonya - the love of his life. Tragically, Denny is struck down with inoperable cancer. Andy DeVries has almost nothing; alienated from his family, moving through a dangerous Chicago underworld dealing in drugs, battling addiction while keeping a wavering hold on the only thing that matters to him: a place at a prestigious conservatory for classical guitar. As Andy recovers from a near fatal overdose, he is plagued by dreams - memories of a love he has never felt, and a life he's never lived. Driven by the need for redemption and by the love for a woman he's never met, he begins a quest to find her, knowing her only by the memories of a stranger and the dreams of a place called Hambledown...

The Deadline by Ron Franscell
From the product description: A dying convict's last request thrusts small-town newspaperman Jefferson Morgan into a deadly maelstrom as he explores a fifty-year-old case of child murder -- a wound his town still isn't ready to scrape open. Under the heaviest deadline of his life, and amid threats from unexpected foes, Morgan must struggle with his own conscience to tell a story no matter the consequences, dig deep into the town's past, and unveil a killer who's managed to remain unmasked for almost 50 years.

**

Apr 11 - New This Week on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-04-11T12:08:00.000-07:00

Thirty Pieces of Silver by Carolyn McCray
Yes, I'll admit it, she had me at "Eiffel Tower." Having lived in Paris for a few years, I loved her opening scene in the City of Lights and hope the novel stays there for awhile. As some of the reviews say, this definitely seems to be a novel for those of us who had to finish the last pages of The DaVinci Code hiding from our boss in the ladies' room. Not that I know anyone who did that. (And for those who paid attention in bible study... you know what the title refers to, don't you?)

Deed So by Kath Russell
Set in 1962, this is a coming-of-age story about a young girl named Haddie, a "brainy Southern teen from a tradition-bound family." The novel follows what happens to Haddie after she witnesses the fatal shooting of a black teen and is called to testify. Even after a few pages, I feel the novel hearkening back to To Kill A Mockingbird, but in an original way.

The Naked Gardener by L.B. Gschwandtner
From the back cover: In her first novel, award-winning writer L.B. Gschwandtner explores the push and pull of love, a woman's need to maintain her individuality within marriage, and the bonds that can make women stronger even when the world feels as if it's breaking apart.

The Forever Queen by Helen Hollick
Helen Hollick is a UK-based writer who has fourteen historical novels for sale on Amazon - in the area of Roman Britain and King Arthur, and a few about pirates for good measure. I glanced at her website for a few minutes and found this is one time when the author attracts me as much as the book does. She wanted to write history "her way"... I love it! Also, kudos to her for not writing tons of fantasy and romance into her British history. Of course I was glued to Jonathan Rhys Meyers and The Tudors just like the next person, but there seems to be a dearth of British historical novels that explore anything outside of, ahem, royal bodice removal.

Impeding Justice by Mel Comley
This title is especially for my good friend Elly: a thriller that prominently features a unicorn. Yes, that's right. Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins is pitted against her longtime nemesis, The Unicorn. The reviewers seem to love it, the opening scene is quick-moving and suspenseful, and I'm just wondering how you "write" a unicorn. Bravo to Mel for taking it on.

American Vampire by J. R. Rain
Product description: Mother, wife, private investigator...vampire. Six years ago federal agent Samantha Moon was the perfect wife and mother, your typical soccer mom with the minivan and suburban home. Then the unthinkable happens, an attack that changes her life forever. And forever is a very long time for a vampire.

Not What She Seems by Victoria E. Lieske
Product description: Steven Ashton, a billionaire from New York, and Emily Grant, on the run from the law... and when they meet he can’t help falling for her. What he doesn’t know is that interfering in her life will put his own life in danger.

My Sister's Keeper by Bill Benners
Product description: This riveting suspense thriller explores the special bond between a brother and sister when Richard Baimbridge rushes back to his coastal hometown of Wilmington, NC, to assist with his sister's recovery after she's brutally attacked and crippled investigating the rape of a 13-year-old. Coming face to face with his tormented past and a dark family secret, he fights to stay above the flood of childhood trauma and, serving as his sister's legs, is drawn into the dark underside of this quiet coastal community where he, himself, becomes the primary suspect in the murders of Wilmington's young girls.

An Apple For Zoe by Thomas Amo
Product description: The City of San Francisco is locked in a grip of fear. A series of occult murders has led, Inspector Thomas James, to a crime scene similar to a murder committed 90 years ago in the once grand Aleris Hotel. A place where power barons of the early 20th Century engaged in witchcraft. And silent film stars indulged in the most wicked of sins.

Crestmont by Holly Weiss
Product description: "A dream, after all, needn't be fueled by particulars, only by desire." So notes main character, Gracie Antes, in CRESTMONT, a historical fiction gem set in the 1920s. Determined to take control of her life, sheltered Gracie Antes leaves her unhappy home in 1925 to pursue her dream of a singing career. On her way to the big city, she accepts a job as a housemaid at the bustling Crestmont Inn. Once there, Gracie finds a life-changing encounter with opera singer Rosa Ponselle, family she never imagined could be hers, and a man with a mysterious past.

**

An Open Letter to the Wall Street Journal

2011-04-06T03:00:00.000-07:00

So friends, I went into a Panera yesterday morning to work on my corporate-mother novel. The plot needed some serious complicating, so I got myself a blueberry scone and a mug of strong coffee. I grabbed a booth where someone had left Monday's Wall Street Journal, flipped to the Management section and hoped I might find a nugget or two to help me with the novel's storyline. What I read got me so incensed that I had to write the letter below, which I emailed to the WSJ before I left that booth. If they print it, I'll let you know, but the nice thing about Media 2.0 is that I don't have to wait for them to share it with you. I'd love to know your thoughts in the comments. If you want to send your own letter (or cut and paste mine in solidarity), their email is: wsj.ltrs@wsj.com

**

Dear Editor:

I am writing in reference to the McKinsey study discussed in the Apr 4 article "Coaching Urged For Women" by Joann S. Lublin and posted Apr 3 on the WSJ's The Juggle blog.I have a Masters in Business from an Ivy League university and have managed employees and clients in more than a half a dozen countries during my career in marketing and advertising. I handled business initiatives representing tens of millions of dollars for my employer and clients. I've been a client to both Bain and McKinsey. For McKinsey to posit that "female ambition declines sharply at middle age" is not only insulting, but it is a dangerous and presumptive statement to make on behalf of all women.

Let me propose another possibility: women channel their ambitions differently at middle age in order to allow time to be with their children, and perhaps even their aging parents. In some circles, we have called this the "mommy track." Whatever we want to call it, time with children is time a parent only gets once in a lifetime. When parents figure this out and adjust their career track, do we say that their "ambition declines sharply"? The McKinsey study, at best, takes an extremely narrow view of ambition. I left my six figure salary and management position at a major financial services firm in Manhattan to channel my ambitions into writing novels and developing a career as a writer, frankly something that has taken much more ingenuity and stamina than my years in Corporate America. In the past 18 months, I've completed a full-length novel and had lunch with my kindergartner every Thursday. No amount of executive compensation, leadership accolades, or professional recognition could have satisfied me like that has.

Ladies and Gentlemen of McKinsey & Company, ambitions do not decline, they shift. You cannot "coach" a person into the CEO or senior executive suite if that is not a path they desire. I would expect a newspaper like the Wall Street Journal and a firm like McKinsey & Company to take on this issue with more circumspection. This study has done a terrible disservice to ambitious women everywhere.

Sincerely,
Melissa T. Romo
Hoboken, New Jersey

Apr 4 - New This Week on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-04-04T08:10:00.000-07:00

Discovery at Rosehill by Kathryn Brown
From the product description: Finding your dream home is difficult enough, but what if you found it and then discovered it was haunted? Medium Camilla Armstrong is led to the beautiful Rosehill country estate after communication with her deceased grandmother. On first inspection she senses tranquillity within the house; the gentle atmosphere of a Georgian manor that is crying out for new life. But when she moves in, Camilla discovers the house contains a dark secret, one which is to change her life forever. *Profit from the sales of this book in April will benefit the National Autistic Society.

In Memory of Greed by Al Boudreau
From the product description: Murhkin Mocado, a twenty-nine year old, California native had it all ... good job, good looks, and a solid handle on life. While leaving work one afternoon, a seemingly freak occurrence changes his life forever. His decision to take action, a stunning attempt to save lives, carries unexpected repercussions. By the time day turns to night, he is charged with murder, set up for a crime he didn't commit.

Four Years from Home by Larry Enright
From the product description: "Four Years from Home" begins on Christmas 1972 during Harry's senior year at college. The Ryan family has gathered without Harry for another bittersweet holiday celebration. When an unexpected and unwelcome gift arrives, the family demands answers and Tom Ryan, bully cum laude, must make a reluctant journey of discovery and self-discovery into a mystery that can only end in tragedy. Written by the son of Irish Catholic immigrants, "Four Years from Home" redefines brotherly love in the darkly humorous and often poignant actions of its principal skeptic, Tom Ryan.

The Innocent by Vincent Zandri
Product description: Getting caught is simply not an option. It's been a year since Jack Marconi's wife was killed. Ever since, he's been slipping up at his job as warden at an upstate New York prison. It makes him the perfect patsy when a cop-killer breaks out--with the help of someone on the inside. Throwing himself into the hunt for the fleeing con, Jack doesn't see what's coming.

The Righteous by Michael Wallace
Product description: Together with his sister, Jacob uncovers a plot to overthrow the church leadership, with murders that reach beyond the community and into the “gentile” world. The Righteous is a heart-pounding suspense-thriller with a depth that will haunt the reader long after the last page is turned.

The End of Marking Time by C.J. Miller
Product description: Gifted housebreaker, Michael O'Connor, awakens inside an ultramodern criminal justice system where prison walls are replaced by surveillance equipment and a host of actors hired to determine if he is worthy of freedom. While he was sleeping, the Supreme Court declared long term incarceration to be cruel and unusual punishment and ordered two million felons released...

On the Gathering Storm by Jason McIntyre
Product description: At 29, Hannah Garretty is pursuing her lifelong dream of being a paid photographer. But in a curl of circumstance, she's snatched from her bohemian life on the island and vanishes into a forest lair where unspeakable things have happened...and will continue to happen.

Simon's Choice by Charlotte Castle
Product description: Doctor Simon Bailey has everything a man could ever want. Then his beautiful daughter is diagnosed with Leukemia. He can almost accept her impending death. He can almost accept the fact that he will have to live without her. But he cannot stand the thought of his little girl having to face death alone. He answers her innocent question in a moment of desperation, testing his marriage, his professional judgment and his sanity to the limit.

The Color of Heaven by Julianne MacLean
Product description: Sophie Duncan is a successful columnist whose world falls apart after her daughter’s unexpected illness and her husband’s shocking, adulterous affair. When it seems nothing else could possibly go wrong, her car skids off an icy road and plunges into a frozen lake. There, in the cold dark depths of the water, Sophie experiences something profound and extraordinary - something that unlocks the secrets of her past and teaches her what it means to truly live.

Daughter of Time by Sarah Woodbury
Product description: Daughter of Time tells the story of a young widow, Meg, healing from the pain of a brief, unhappy marriage, who falls through time into the Middle Ages—and into the arms of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, the last Prince of Wales. He saves her, and she in turn saves him, thanks to her knowledge of future events.

**

Mar 28 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-03-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

House of Skin: Prize-Winning Stories by Kiana Davenport
I heard about Davenport on Joe Konrath's blog last week. She sent him an email about her struggles with traditional publishing, which she had done for awhile. Her letter to Konrath was just short of a suicide note, returned from the brink. She describes how she published this volume of prize-winning short stories on her own, something that she says saved her life. I read a sample and can tell you the writing is like thunder on the page. They are well worth the $1.99 on your Kindle. Infinitely more, in my opinion.

Blood Lust by Zoe Winters
I'm not much of a vampire type, but I can appreciate that other readers are. Winters is one of the ebook world's beloved writers, and her Blood Lust title is in both ebook and paperback format. This book ruminates on the ultimate of all vampire cravings: blood. Winters is also the author of a recent self-publishing how-to, Becoming an Indie Author, that is worth a look.

Pay Phone by Brandon Ford
I'm even less into horror than I am into vampires, but in the interest of pushing beyond my comfort zone, I present to you the slasher tale of Pay Phone. I was encouraged by one reviewer who said they didn't typically read the horror genre, but Ford's story introduced them to a genre of which they'll likely read more. And folks, I even got scared reading the product description. I had to check my closet.

The Demise of the Soccer Moms by Cathryn Grant
This novel describes itself as "suburban noir," a genre that I feel is grossly underrepresented in fiction. What else is suburbia if not noir? This looks like a novel for all of us who identified with the unfortunate and terribly accurate poetry of the film American Beauty. The first scene is really, really unsettling. But that's really, really good. Thanks, Cathryn.

Saints In The City by Andie Andrews
Continuing with the theme of titles outside my typical reading zone, here's another one. This one is a "parable about the pitfalls of moral judgment, love as a powerful, binding force between persons of all social classes and conditions, and the idea that restoration is possible for all people, no matter what is the root of their brokenness or shame." Those drawn to religious themes will probably like this.

The Ghost of a Flea by John Brinling
One reviewer said "Alfred Hitchcock is back!" This book is a murder mystery set in 1975 New York City. I love the setting, love the time period, and would love to find a new Alfred Hitchcock.

The Year We Finally Solved Everything by Rudolf Kerkhoven
I love books that ask those thorny, philosophical questions. Like: What is life when we have nothing left to strive for? A story about the terrible tragedy that is perfection. Being a perfectionist at heart, I have a feeling this needs to shoot to the top of my to-reads.

Verdant Skies by Steven Lyle Jordan
This had only four reviews (not my required 10), although sometimes you can tell from the reviews that there is something special about a title. That's the case with this sci-fi thriller. From the product description: "A catastrophic eruption of the Yellowstone Caldera threatens the world's entire biosystem, and drives Earth's desperate residents to seek refuge in any of the four satellite-cities in Earth orbit. The satellite Verdant immediately finds itself under pressure to accept a forced occupation... but a secret group on Verdant has a plan of its own."

Powerless: The Shadowing by Jason Letts
This is another sci-fi, Part 2 of a series; the first was Powerless: The Synthesis, which was also well-reviewed. From the product description for Part 2: "If you were sent out into the world to learn of its evil, what would you expect to find? In book two of the Powerless series, Mira and her friends must endure a period of apprenticeship, known as The Shadowing. This is their last chance to prepare themselves before they are thrust into the mysterious war..."

The Awful Truth About Dead Men by Terry Sykes-Bradshaw
This title was mentioned today in Publisher's Weekly's special section about self-publishing. One bookstore quoted in the article said the book was so good they shelved it with regular paperback books, not in their special "self-publishing" section, as if it had made the grade or something. In any case, there are no reviews or "Look Inside," but I was able to read the Prologue on Sykes-Bradshaw's website, and it's pretty funny. Five women on a boat, finding out their captain is dead. The novel has a kind of Weekend at Bernie's patina, which is a-ok with me. I'm ready for beach reading, people!

**

We're Off To See The Wizard

2011-03-25T09:31:00.000-07:00

I had drafted a different post for this week, but other things just seem more timely right now. Like: I sent the first 50 pages of The Orphan's Daughter to a literary agent yesterday. Around 2pm.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

She asked for a first look, so I'm sitting on my heels waiting to hear from her before I contact any other agents. And because business school has infected my brain, I have an Excel sheet with the names of hundreds of agents, sorted, waiting for me to begin the querying juggernaut. The horses are pawing at the dirt and snorting.

Querying my work to literary agents, who will then shop it to publishers, was not a path I came to without thinking a lot about the other option. Namely, self-publishing. This was a big week for author news, in both directions. In one corner, you have author Amanda Hocking. Hocking is a self-published writer who has sold over a million books on Amazon alone, and just yesterday signed a 4-book deal with St. Martin's Press. The news blew the doors off the publishing world, and you could hear the Old Guard heaving a collective see-we-do-add-value! sigh all the way across the Hudson River. Apparently there was a feisty Midtown bidding war for Miss Hocking. Stuff of writer dreams, isn't it? She writes with unbelievable business savvy (gulp, she's 26!) about the decision on her blog post last night: The Blog.

In the other corner, you have author Barry Eisler. Eisler is a thriller writer who has published eight books (that I could find on his website) through traditional publishers. The big news Eisler made recently was to turn down a $500,000 advance from a big publisher for a 2-book deal. He decided he's going to self-publish instead. Here's how he explained it to author Joe Konrath: Ebooks and Self-Publishing: A Conversation...

So what does a new writer do in the midst of all this Me-Versus-The Man turmoil? Being at the beginning of my writing career, I have inhaled the debate over traditional versus self-publishing like a person running out of air in a seeled capsule. I have been sucking hard at the crack of light.

Which way to go is not an easy question, and I also think it is a very personal one. I have a tremendous amount of respect for writers who do choose self-publishing. What I've seen from reading their pages and visiting their websites is that it takes a herculean energy and faith to present a product to the market by oneself. Even Hocking said that was one reason she signed on with a publisher. It's just so much damn work by yourself.

I am also grateful for the fact that self-publishing and ebooks exist at all. Because if I go through hundreds of agent queries and still find myself at a hot dog stand on Sixth Avenue without two editor business cards to rub together, all is not entirely lost. I think today's post on Konrath's blog illustrates the point: Depression and Writers. As he eloquently writes, "there are few worse feelings than trying your best and it not being enough."

Here's what I know: I am the rough draft of a truly fine writer. I believe that. But I think the odds are high that I will stay a rough draft if I am the only person tied to my own fortune. Nobody will carry enough risk to care. Having a publisher "choose" a writer is not about a popularity contest. It's about the assumption of risk. The agent and publisher who choose a writer are really saying: we want to risk a dollar on you. When a business says that, they're in it to win it.

And that's what I want. Because I am, too.

***

Mar 21 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-03-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Readers: Here we are, vaulting above 100 books on the Indie 500 Booklist!

I decided to spend more time on the website Smashwords for today's additions to the Booklist. Smashwords publishes and distributes ebooks, which means you can read them on a Kindle or similar reader, OR on your computer. Usually both formats are offered.

If you're an avid reader and you haven't ventured over to Smashwords, I encourage you to check it out (and they aren't paying me to write about them). There is a greater range of fiction lengths (novels, novellas, and short stories) offered than what you find on Amazon - and you can search by length, which is fun. You can email, Tweet or Facebook excerpts of what you're reading. You can sample for free. They even have something called a "prude filter," which comes in handy when you're sifting through independent fiction. Just trust me on that. Smashwords calls themselves a "virtual playground for people who love the written word" and I would have to agree.

In the interest of exploring a little, I'm departing from the Booklist's criteria and letting the market rule. Listed below are picks from the top paid downloads and bestsellers across a few fiction categories as of today, both short (first eight) and novel-length (last two). And this time, the blurbs are straight off the product descriptions - the author's words, not mine.

Crouton: A Love Story by T. Alex Miller
(Don't you just giggle reading this title?) Lonely Ted finds a crouton in his spotless apartment and freaks out. But the errant bread item is really a catalyst for a strange sort of love story.

Four Gifts for Aria by Joshua Graham
A young runaway finds himself in the employ of Huntington Manor, where he falls in love with Aria, the sweet and enigmatic daughter of Lord Hungtington. In a clash of station and pride, denied love and tragedy, overshadowed by the horrors of World War I, FOUR GIFTS FOR ARIA takes you on a heart-wrenching journey of love, sacrifice and redemption.

Sweet Nessie by Bruce Sarte
What happens when a pharmacist's son's fish dies? One of the world's biggest mysteries -- that's what!

Dial M For Monkey by Adam Maxwell
Adam Maxwell's first collection of short stories is inventive, funny, dark, and hugely entertaining. Effortlessly fusing pop culture, gunplay, and simians, Dial M For Monkey contains a vibrant mixture of short stories - and short-short stories including 'Happiness is a Warm Gun' which featured in McSweeney's Internet Tendency.

The Wishing Well by David Schibi
Being a middle school exchange student is hard enough for Pavel. Add to that the constant bullying and it’s almost too much. Until the night he finds the wishing well. But the wording of a wish is a tricky thing. Pavel didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt - much less die. When someone turns up who knows about the wishing well, Pavel thinks help has finally arrived. But he’s wrong.

Natural Selection by Fred Bubbers
A short story about a corporate manager on the verge losing it all. Office politics, a growing drinking problem, estrangement from his family, and a looming layoff are pushing him to the edge of a personal abyss.

The Wrinkly by Paul Collis
Mike Lewis wants 'out'. Out of his meaningless career, his shallow relationships, the big city rat race. On a whim, he signs a contract for a house in an idyllic retirement community in Florida that promises a peaceful life of golf and hobbies. Only later does he read the small print: he has to be over 60 to join the enclave. Trouble is, he's only 39. Welcome to the start of a whole new life...

Adam's Temptation by Anne Marie Novark
Ambitious wanna-be journalist, Megan O'Conner is stuck in Briny Cove, struggling to finish her degree and working odd jobs. When she finds out the new tenant in the old lighthouse is millionaire Adam Brant, she thinks she's found her ticket out. But as she becomes better acquainted with the sexy professor, everything changes. Will she choose the exclusive story or the man who has stolen her heart?

A Second Chance by Shayne Parkinson
Amy uses the second chance she had hardly dared dream of to make up for the wasted years. But a familiar face from long ago makes an unwelcome reappearance, threatening her new-found happiness. (Curator's note: Parkinson writes historical fiction set in New Zealand, where she lives, and has several high-ranked titles on Smashwords. Worth checking her out!)

An Inconvenient Marriage by Ruth Ann Nordin
In order to receive his inheritance, Jake Mitchell must marry. In order to save her family's farm, Sue Lewis must marry a rich man. So Jake comes up with a plan. Why not strike up a platonic, business arrangement where they can marry each other for six months? And it all goes according to plan...until an army of suitors start to take an interest in Sue. Then Jake starts to reconsider the plan.

**

Why Fiction Is Worth Paying For

2011-03-16T12:50:00.001-07:00

Photo Credit

Now that the Indie 500 Booklist has hit 100 books, I thought it would be a good moment to reflect on the phenomenon that has become self-publishing. There are many good things about this new outlet for authors, but it's also sparked a price war all over the book world that I don't think is good for anyone in the business, Indie or not. And it's not going to be so great for readers either.

My interest in self-publishing was initially piqued when I went to the Self-Publishing Book Expo in New York last October and wrote a post about it here: Self-Publishing: Thumbs Up or Thumbs Down? Since then, I've traveled widely around the Internet reading anything I can find on the topic, from J.A. Konrath's well-know blog, A Newbie's Guide to Publishing (a post this week tells you all you need to know about his point of view: LOL NYT), to the blog of agent-cum-author Nathan Bransford, and a recent post of his that I found truly thought-provoking and a bit more even-handed: Amanda Hocking and the 99-cent Kindle Millionaires.

If you don't have time to click through to those posts now, I'll sum it up for you: Indie authors are getting rich (a scant few, but some) while the Establishment (ringled by the NYT) is ignoring them. As Bransford points out in his post, traditional publishers are charging $9.99 and up for ebooks, while many upstart indie authors are charging as little as 99 cents, or even nothing.

It's even become a recent tactic to post an ebook FREE as a 'loss leader,' especially one in a series, just to attract readers and log reviews. I reluctantly posted a free story on the Indie 500 Booklist this week (We Don't Plummet Out of the Sky Anymore by M. David Blake). It bothered me that this author's story wouldn't earn him a dime, especially when I read some of it and found it quite good. But I guiltily posted it on the list anyway. I guess it's Blake's decision to give it away.

What I've observed in reviews of self-published fiction, mainly on Amazon, is that when a reader gets something for free, their expectation of value is quite low. Typos? That's OK I guess, it was free. Flat characters? Well, I can live with it, it was free. Plot dragged some? It was free after all. What did I expect?

This was pointedly illustrated in a review I read of one of Konrath's books where the reviewer admitted they would have rated it 3 stars, but decided to give it 4 because the book only cost 99 cents. Price signals value. But inversely. If I paid nothing, it was a great deal. Even if it wasn't very well done, even on the basics.

I saw this more than a few times. And I've skimmed through many 5-star rated Indie books that only left me feeling embarrassed for the author. So my takeaway has been that the lower the price is, the more likely the reviews are to inflate the book's quality. Frankly, I'm not sure where this leads an author's career.

As a prospective published author, this scares me. If I self-publish, will I be forced to be a 99-center? If I get an agent and publisher, will they be so squeezed that they won't even be able to keep their lights on? Will the author's advance disappear as publishers guard their money (there have been rumors of this). Amazon only contributes to the problem. After I read an article a few months ago in the Boston Review about some of Amazon's back-alley pricing tactics, I blogged about it here: Amazon's Book Discounting: How Much Is Too Much?

Price wars ultimately drive prices down, so good. But not so good if you're depending on the revenue and hope writing can one day be your livelihood, or at least provide a tad more than pocket change. And a lot of people do. Everyone talks about how the traditional world of publishing is in danger of extinction -- agents, editors and the Midtown lunch -- but authors need to be careful, too. I would hate to see writing become limited to a hobbyist activity. Because it's not that. It's more work than anything I've ever done in my life. Way more.

So my point, especially if you're a Reader, is to seek out quality and be willing to pay for it when you find it. How do we do that? It's hard, especially when reviews can be so unreliable. But stories have always had value in our lives, ever since tribes sat around fires, and I hope they always will.

Are you a reader who's read cheap (or free) fiction? What did you really think of it? Are you a writer, agent or editor worried about your bottom line? How much do you think a novel is worth?

**

Mar 14 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-03-14T09:00:00.000-07:00

Homefront by Kristen J. Tsetsi
Tsetsi was inspired to write this book after the experience of waiting for her boyfriend (now husband) to come home from his deployment in Iraq. As she says in this interview with The Huffington Post, she wanted to capture the 'surreal time spent hoping the person you love isn't killed that day.'

The Flower Man's Daughter by Jack Sobel
This book didn't hit all my criteria (only 6 reviews, rather than my preferred 10), but it was featured on IndieReader so I looked it up. I decided to add it because I like the combination of history/politics and a human story that feels like it will tug at the heart. The novel tells the story of a young CIA agent based in Santiago who must 'make a difficult and dangerous decision' when a flower merchant and his wife are captured by military forces during the 1973 coup that toppled Chilean president Salvador Allende.

The Purple Culture by Stephen Boehrer
A legal thriller with three Catholic bishops on trial for concealing the pedophile activities of priests in their charge. While I tend to veer away from books about children as victims, the reviews praise this book for its 'brilliant analysis of the Catholic heirarchy' in an effort to answer the terrible question of why these acts are committed. Boehrer was ordained as a priest in Rome, but that doesn't stop him from writing with the bravado of Raymond Chandler - crisp, crime noir. Wow. **Fiction Winner 2010 National Indie Excellence Book Awards**

A Bomb Shelter Romance by Patrick M. Garry
So while I was visiting the National Indie awards up above, I kept on going and found this. It also falls a little short of my criteria (4 reviews instead of 10), but the premise of it was just too good: it's 1970 and a mother volunteers her family to help build a bomb shelter in their small town. It sounds full of coming-of-age wonders, and one reviewer (who describes himself as 'jaded') said it was the best book he's reviewed in a very long time. **Fiction Finalist 2010 National Indie Excellence Book Awards**

Sand In My Eyes by Christine Lemmon
Well, let's keep on going while the going is good. This is another Finalist from the 2010 National Indie Excellence Book Awards. This one bills itself on the back cover as 'a story about the tension between motherhood and personal dreams.' Boy, does this author have my number!

We Don't Plummet Out of the Sky Anymore by M. David Blake
OK, so let's mix things up a bit. This is a short-story (6,000 words... a novel is about 100,000) that got 4.5 stars on the indie site Smashwords. It's about a guy who wants a shiny new aeromobile, because that's how they roll where he's from, somewhere in the future. I was reminded of Upton Sinclair's striving Babbitt a little while reading the reviews of this. And the writing is quite tongue-meet-cheek, which I love. Oh, and PS: this story is FREE for your e-readers, folks! (And so is Babbitt if you click that link!)

Play Fling by Amber Scott
To sum up: older, divorced woman gets young, hot guy. Need I say more, people?!

For The Love of Paris by Thomas Rutter
As with a few of the above titles, this book slipped on my criteria (only 2 reviews), but it made the cut because I liked the writing in the opening pages, and I flat out just don't think there are enough novels written with Paris as the setting. (*Runs off to makes notes for a new Paris novel...*) Rutter's story is set in 1930s and 1940s Paris, before and after a passage of history that ravaged Europe. But, for the most part, not Paris.

Songs From the Other Side of the Wall by Dan Holloway

For reasons that will be obvious to you if you've been to my blog a few times, I can't resist an Eastern Europe story. And there are sadly so few good ones. This one is set in Budapest. I've skimmed over hundreds of indie fictions in the last few months, and this prose is some of the most stunning: "...the mist coming off the Danube wraps itself around me like the breath of a thousand ghosts..."

After the Strawberry by Kathryn Pope

If you've ever poked some soft area on your midsection and hated it, you'll see yourself in the first page of this book. Although the protagonist is struggling with anorexia, so the journey will surely be far more painful than many of us experience. Pope's writing in the early pages is crisp, clean and incredibly precise. (And this was more fudging on the Booklist's criteria, but sometimes I just see things that need to be read... I hope you'll agree!)

Then We Came To The Beginning

2011-03-09T12:37:00.001-08:00

Photo Credit

"Beta reader" comments to The Orphan's Daughter have started to roll in (my heartfelt thank yous, Betas!). They have had good things to say, including what I was most seeking, those moments where the book is impossible to put down. I achieved it in a few places, so yeah! for that. But I was equally relieved to get specific, constructive criticism also. It's like being a doctor with a clear x-ray in your hands. You know where the problems are.

So I've started to move things around and cut things out, even though I've lived with this book for several years now and am starting to look at it and want to say "when are you going to start picking up your own socks, please?" The book doesn't say much in response.

Once the editing and mutual stare-downs between me and the book have ended, I'll pitch it to agents. Soon, soon. I can't take my foot off the gas now. If there were a word stronger than "dread" to describe how I feel about this process, I would use it.

Meanwhile, I've started on novel number two, partly to try and absorb myself in something so I half-don't-notice the rejections (right!). I actually have about six novel ideas I'm excited about, but there's one that relies on the memories I still have of my past life in Corporate America. Those memories - expense accounts, meetings, quarterly targets, performance reviews - seem to be fading by the second. So it's that novel that I'm going to turn to now, before my impressions of that world are entirely cobwebbed.

Actually, why don't I let Maureen tell you about it:

Hi, Readers and Writers, my name is Maureen. It's nice to meet you. Melissa hasn't given me a last name yet, but she seems pretty set on Maureen being my first. So I guess I'll have to live with it. I live in suburban New Jersey with three kids, a husband, a Mexican nanny, and I commute every weekday to my hot-shot Corporate job in Manhattan.

I have a boss named Rebecca, the heir apparent to the division president. Rebecca is very polished, that's the word Melissa keeps scribbling to describe her. Rebecca unnerves me. She is smart, diplomatic, strategic, and always keeps an easy smile on her face. A midway showman... showwoman... showgirl?

Then there's Stacy, one of the women who reports to me. Stacy is not polished, but thinks she is. Stacy loves the Company, though. Loves. I'm worried they're not going to be compatible in the long run and it will be a tearful break-up that I hope I'm not around for.

Melissa's trying to figure out what the story is with Stacy, Rebecca and I. She doesn't want to write chick-lit or mom-lit, but it's been hard to veer away from those genres when women are at the center of the story. Can't there be a serious story - something (*gasp!*) even "literary" - with working women at the heart of it?

I hope so. Because there's no way I'm letting a publisher stick a sexpot picture of my legs on the cover of a book. No way.

Mar 7 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-03-07T15:11:00.000-08:00

Son of a Dog by Jacqueline Howard
To start off with something light, here's a cozy little dog novel. In my opinion, there aren't enough of these. I'm posting this in honor of my two sons, who inquire daily about our family getting one. Someday, I tell them. When I sell my novel...

Blood and Ashes: The Debut Oscar Jade Thriller by Mark Loeffelholz
I liked Loeffelholz's writing a lot. The title character has a bad foot and, after he's insulted by a stranger in a beach side cafe, he catches up to the guy and says: "Just so you know, I don't like assholes." You gotta like characters who know how to stick up for themselves in style.

First Impressions: A Tale of Less Pride and Prejudice by Alexa Adams
First, a confession. I have never read Pride and Prejudice. It's true. So I don't really feel qualified to point you towards an Austen-inspired story, but reviewers seem to love this one. And Adams's prose seems sturdy enough for Austenite expectations.

Hit List by Darcia Helle
How often does a private detective get called in to help a person recover their parent's sanity? That's what Ian has to do when his mother, Corinne, loses hers. Writing crazy is hard, but Helle takes a good shot at it in the first few pages I read.

Alison Wonderland by Helen Smith
The prose is lovely in this one, too. Smith opens the book with Alison of the title pondering her husband's faithfulness: "I would just lie there, closing my eyes to stop the giddy feeling that I supposed was anger but was really relief that he was home at all." Thanks to Steve Anderson, author of The Losing Role, for pointing me to Smith's work.

Waiting for Spring by R.J. Keller
Keller masterfully forces the reader to feel sympathy for her protagonist from the very first page: "I looked at the clock. 9:17. Eleven-and-a-half years of marriage. Took less than 15 minutes to end it." Set in small town Maine. Thanks also to Steve Anderson for this one.

The Baron of Clayhill by John W. Huffman
This book was a Finalist in the Fiction category of the National Indie Excellence Book Awards. One reviewer said that "so many hidden clues throughout the book bring this story to a boil." Yummy.

Heart of Diamonds by Dave Donelson
So, this one was interesting. Eighteen reviewers on Amazon had given this book a 5-star rating, saying it was a "captivating read." However, the first thing you run into on Amazon is a review from Publisher's Weekly pointing out its "clunky prose" and other detractions. If any of you read it, I wonder what you'll think...

Second Date: Love Italian-American Style by Mary Lidon Simonsen
A 30-something woman is looking for love... and there is plenty of pasta to go around. This is one of those novels I might read guiltily, only because of how much it will fill me up. Thanks, Mary!

Belfast Girls by Gerry McCullough
This is a novel about three women in Belfast, written by a woman who was born and raised there. Frankly, I'm curious about Northern Ireland, and I think we can trust McCollough to show us how it is, especially now.

When Nobody Knows Your Name

2011-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

I've decided that one of the hardest parts of any creative journey is that it starts in anonymity and can stay there for a long time. The writer at a desk, the musician at a dusty row of keys, the painter in a drafty, large-windowed studio. Nobody knows they are there and nobody cares. And that state of affairs can go on for years and years. For many artists, forever. To me, it feels like dancing my heart out in a cavernous, empty auditorium. Only me and the crickets.

It's a wonder any art ever sees the light of day. Wouldn't it seem easier, eventually, to give up and do something that at least earns a dollar, provides a service, or has some other practical function?

I live in the center of Hoboken, New Jersey. It is a one-square-mile city -- more like a village -- that sits on the Hudson River directly across from the Soho section of Manhattan. In fact, we have a view of Manhattan that Manhattanites would envy. It's a good place to write, and an even better place to start a creative journey.

A few blocks from the room where I write everyday, performing my own little tap dance, is the address at 841 Garden Street. It's a narrow, four-story brownstone. An Italian couple named Dolly and Marty moved in there in 1931. It was a big deal for them. They had lived more than a decade in the southwest part of Hoboken that was much poorer then, full of cold water flats, muddy streets and tough characters. When Dolly and Marty finally earned enough money - she as a midwife and he as a fireman, and both of them as owners of a Prohibition-era pub - to move six blocks closer to the Hudson River, to Garden Street, they knew they had really moved up in the world.

There was one thing that was unfortunately not going well for them. They had a teenage son who, shortly after they moved in, decided to drop out of high school. He knocked around Hoboken, doing odd jobs on the waterfront (the same waterfront that, a handful of decades later, would be the setting for Marlon Brando's moaning that he 'coulda been a contenda'). He lolled around much of the time in his room on Garden Street listening to the music coming from his Atwater Kent radio. His father called him a bum. Everybody wrote him off. But he had grand ideas about music and his place in the musical world. He even walked around Hoboken dressed in a sailing cap like Bing Crosby. Fathers of prospective girlfriends chased him away and kids threw coins into the megaphone he used to amplify his voice, maybe guessing they could choke him.

When I walk down Garden Street these days, on the way somewhere and thinking about a story that maybe nobody will ever read, I look behind the second floor windows of #841 and imagine him sitting in there, dreaming away. Nobody knew who he was then. But he just kept doing what he felt like he had to do. Like any creative person, he couldn't walk away from the idea that he had something to say, and a way he could say it that would please a lot of people. He must have had the blindest kind of faith.

An artist can go a lot of years without anyone knowing their name. But if the artist can outlast the absurd act of tap dancing in an empty room, there's a chance the day will come when people will know. After hard work, talent, and luck, the only thing left a person can do is to last. Last like the teenager on Garden Street in the funny hat, a dropout bum named Frank Sinatra.

Feb 28 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-02-28T11:46:00.000-08:00

Well, I will admit it is starting to get hard to find books that fit the criteria I established for the Indie 500 list, but I'm not giving up! Reading "Indie" is feeling much like a covered wagon trip across the continent: worth the trip, but harrowing indeed.

When I can get to it, I will add a page on this blog about "How To Read Indie" to help readers search for Indie titles and reviews on their own.

So here's what I found for you this week...

Octopus Summer by W. Malcolm Dorson
OK, to be fair, how could you not be hooked by a book that starts like this: "It was a stifling July night in Manhattan and I was ready for sex."

Maccabee by David C. Carson
A tale of history and religion that one reviewer says brings 'the events of history to vivid life' and another calls 'historical fiction at its best.'

No Hope For Gomez! by Graham Parke

Described as 'delightfully odd', the novel is 'presented as a series of blog entries' about a man in an experimental drug trial.

The Missouri Riders by George Banks

Set in post-Civil War Missouri, one reviewer said this story is 'a combination of suspense, everyday heroism, and the faults and fallacies of real people.'

Lip Reader by Shanna Groves

From one reviewer: "Plagued with an inherited deafness, Sapphie Traylor comes of age as she discovers family secrets long hidden in the outback of Oklahoma."

Justice Rules by Thomas White

A first novel crime thriller by the man who directed the world tour of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - Coming Out Of Their Shells. If he can keep the turtles in line, I'm expecting great things.

Drummer Boy by Scott Nicholson

A spooker set in Titusville, VA on the eve of a Civil War re-enactment. Says the back cover: "one misfit kid is all that stands between a town and the cold mouth of hell." Egads!

Cooler Heads by William Harlan Richter

From the product description: "A raucous and completely unexpected crime story that takes place on Martha's Vineyard Island in the dead of winter."

Silent Partner by Karen Jones

One reviewer: "Riveting, funny, love, hate, murder...this book has it all." And there are horse races. Like I've said before, I kinda like those...

Tales from My Hard Drive by Megan Karasch

A romantic comedy about a gal, recovering from a divorce, who takes a job as a cyber-dater (wha??! I might be getting old...) in order to review Mr. Wrongs. If you're over 40, this might be educational reading.

On Being Frivolous

2011-02-24T10:35:00.000-08:00

Frivolous (adj.) -- 1. Trivial: insignificant 2. Devoid of seriousness: silly

A few weeks ago, I attended a one-day novel writing workshop at the home of a published novelist near me in Northern New Jersey. There were about eight of us, all struggling to break through with that first novel, or exploring novel writing in general. It was a cold day with a steel gray sky, promising snow. We burrowed into her cozy couches and chairs, coffee mugs in hand, and started to listen.

One of the first things she started talking about was her decision to write novels in the first place. She had by that point many bestselling non-fiction titles to her credit, and she said that she decided it was time for her to do something frivolous.

The comment, or rather the word frivolous, stayed with me. I've been thinking a lot about what it means and where it appears in life.

Here's one example: I managed to catch the last few laps of the Daytona 500 on TV last weekend and saw 20-year-old Trevor Bayne become the youngest person to ever win the race. As the cars sped around the track, round and round and round, I thought how frivolous it was. All those people - pit crews, publicists, mechanics, sponsors - wholly devoted to enabling one guy (or gal) to race around a track as fast as possible. What's the point of that?

And what's the point of cathedral building? What about opera? What about rodeos? What about cliff diving? What about whale watching and ice fishing? What about bird watching and rock climbing? What about origami? What about yodeling? What about star gazing or spelunking? Wouldn't the world progress fine without any of these things? Aren't they all just trivial and devoid of seriousness... frivolous?

Perhaps, I began to think, we need some things in the world that are not serious. That are, blessedly, devoid of that curse. Perhaps we need it like air to breathe.

I do agree that writing a novel could be considered frivolous, and probably is, especially when it may never see a bookstore. Yes, to devote oneself to such a quixotic pursuit is devoid of seriousness. But trivial, no. Insignificant, no.

Like air to breathe, yes.

Feb 21 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-02-21T18:27:00.000-08:00

Americanus Rex by Andre Swartley

I only have one thing to say on this book: where are all the reviewers?! I'm posting the book here, even though it has no reviewers on Amazon, because it was a Finalist for the Grand Prize for Fiction in the 2010 Indie Book Awards. I've read the opening scene, a 1968 beauty pageant, and found the prose lovely and the scene taut and real. Can't wait to read more.

Rabbit: Chasing Beth Rider by Ellen C. Maze

A twist on a vampire story... I'm not sure I'm into the vampire genre, but you can't have a booklist these days without at least one vampire story. This one had almost a perfect 5 stars from close to 100 reviewers on Amazon.

Heaven's Rage by Tiffany Craig Brown

Described as a 'riveting tale of wronged love' by one reviewer. Sorry I got this to you too late to enjoy for Valentine's Day!

The Last Jump: A Novel of World War II by John E. Nevola

A family mystery unfolds in the hands of what feels like a writer who can balance the technical side of military writing with a descriptive prowess that made me feel like I could get lost in the story (after the first three pages). Kudos to the author for donating a portion of the book proceeds to a charity that assists families of fallen servicepeople.

The Hiding Place of Thunder by Keith Remer

A story set in a 'Godly community where honorable men have strayed.' *2010 Indie Book Award Grand Prize Winner for Fiction*

The Skye in June by June Ahern

A family mystery swirls around themes of fate, faith and defiance with settings in Scotland and San Francisco.

Right On Cue by Tom McGonagle

McGonagle is an award-winning billiard player who has written a love story racked up in a pool hall. Never seen a combination like this.

When The Getting Was Good by Susan G. Bell

Described by one reviewer as the "Mad Men" of the bond world, this novel is about a female trader who gets tangled up in a deal. Written by a 25-year female veteran of Wall Street.

One Clown Short by Linda C. Wright

Mandy needs a job, so she goes to work for a circus supply company. This book sounds full of antics that reminded several reviewers of the inanity of Corporate America. Hmmm...

The Losing Role by Steve Anderson

A failed German actor must impersonate an American GI for an 'absurdly desperate secret mission' during the last winter of WWII. The concept grabbed me and the reviews sounded great.

Feb 14 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-02-14T08:35:00.000-08:00

The Hangman's Daughter by Oliver Potzsch (translated from the German by Lee Chadeayne)
This was a find! A historical thriller about... yes... a hangman and his daughter, set in mid-1600s Bavaria. Potzsch is descended from the hangman klan he writes about, and used family archives in his research.

Old Town by Lin Zhe (translated from the Chinese by George A. Fowler)

About "an ordinary family caught up in the maelstrom that was China's most recent century." It is described by one reviewer as an excellent novel for those interested in understanding China better.

When I unearthed the two titles above, I also discovered AmazonCrossing, a division of Amazon that publishes English translations of works from other countries. I think it's a great service to English language readers interested in foreign literature. You can find more titles like the above two here.

Blank Slate by Zack Hamric

A thriller with Columbian drug cartels, Russian mob, and settings in Italy... so pack your bag. The reviews sound like this is a good ride; a few people said they stayed up all night reading it. Also, if you click through you'll get to Hamric's blog where his dog does a drawing for a free Kindle. Talk about your original promotional idea.

The Parting: A Story of West Point on the Eve of the Civil War by Richard Barlow Adams

From the bits I read, this looks like a story of love and brotherhood, and a tale that pays homage to the West Point Class of 1861, many of whom died in the Civil War.

One Night in Rome: And the End of Life as I Knew It by Michelle Merritt

American woman journeys to Italy and falls in love with handsome stranger. Umm... yes, please.

Love of a Stonemason by Christa Polkinhorn

Troubled, lonely young painter falls in love with a man who carves tombstones for a living. Set in Italy, love by the lakes. I can go for that.

Sand Dollar: A Tale of Old Key West by Jane Louise Newhagen

Key West in the mid-1800s and a young woman struggling through an arranged marriage.

Denial of Sunlight by Robert Troy

It's the Chinese vs. the Americans in a battle for some cutting-edge solar technology... sounds like a novel us green-minders could get into.

A More Obedient Wife by Natalie Wexler

When I saw the title, the words "oh no she didn't" ran through my head. This is housewifery circa the 1790s, and the hubbies in question happen to be Supreme Court justices presiding over our new little nation.

The Life O'Reilly by Brian Cohen

A young Manhattan lawyer looks himself in the mirror... that's enough to fill hundreds of pages isn't it?

Feb 7 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-02-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

Yes, the books keep on comin'... here are 10 more self-published novels that I think merit inclusion on our "To Be Read" list.

Heirs of Mars by Joseph Robert Lewis
I don't usually go in for science fiction, but when I read one review that said "it's hard to put down, and you're constantly imagining what life would be like in this world," I felt that little book-fishhook in my mouth. So here it is... (Note: This is an e-book with no "Look Inside" and, due to some Kindle difficulties today, I couldn't sample the prose.)

The Wedding Gift by Marlen Suyapa Bodden
For anyone coming off The Help and still in the mood for tales of the Old South, this might satisfy. The 'wedding gift' of the title is a young slave girl, who is given to the owner's daughter. Then, well, it sounds like stuff happens that ain't so great for everybody.
(Note: Same as above on the prose.)

The Victim Donor by Ken Corre
Stockbroker kidnapped and kidney stolen. Woowee. One review said it was a 'cauldron of action.' It's been a long time since we've had a medical thriller as good as Coma. Maybe this is it?

Folly by Bill Noel
Kudos to Noel - the cover art for this title is quite lovely. It's another Carolina beach story, but this time it's a murder mystery. Noel's written a few of them set in Folly Beach (click the link to see more of his titles).

Without Grace by Carol Hoenig
Another lovely cover (I'm discovering they're pretty rare), and this book promises to be a tear-jerker: a girl missing her absent mother. (Note: This one was published in 2005, too early for inclusion given the list criteria but it looked too good. I must be in a rebellious mood today.)

All The Ice of Africa by Silent Creek
This is a Young Adult novel (but since Harry Potter, we all read Young Adult now) about a penguin named Charly who is extremely worried about climate change. The first scene is Charly, riding an elevator up to the office of the U.N. where he can register Antarctica for membership (it's not a member as it turns out). It's a cute scene; I liked Charly already. One reviewer called this 'The Little Prince of the 21st century'.

Silver Shoes by Paul Miles Schneider
I love books that exploit that little-known fact and blow it into a whole fiction. This time, Schneider takes us through Kansas and the discovery of a silver shoe that might have some link to a famous Kansas story we all know and love that prominently features footwear...

An Ordinary Fairy by John Osborne
A photographer discovers a girl living alone in the woods on her deceased parent's estate and there's this enchanting thing about her: she can fly.

Whole World Blind by Michael B. Mefford
The protagonist is a psychiatrist named Jack Carson who fell asleep at the wheel and lost his son in the car accidentn that resulted. Three years later, a suicide happens and the surviving child blames Dr. Carson, promising his murder... reviews said this was a 'nail biter.' (Also, kudos to Mefford for another nice cover.)

Bloodlines by Dasaya Cates
Drama, high-fashion, beauty, wealth. 'old ghosts' and a dysfunctional Atlanta power family... what would we do without Atlanta, folks?

Feb 2 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-02-02T10:03:00.001-08:00

Greetings, readers! Below are the ten titles being added to the Indie 500 Booklist this week.
The Walk by Lee Goldberg
What would happen if the end came (say, a huge earthquake) and all you wanted to do was walk home to find out if your spouse was still alive? Goldberg has written for television, including several episodes of "Monk."

Sing My Name by Ellen O'Connell
A man, a woman, a Comanche indian attack... sounds like historical romance to me. And the reviewers who rated this book seem to LOVE it. I've never seen so many !!!!!!!!

Love Unscripted by Tina Reber
Love blossoms between a paparazzi-hounded movie star and a lonely Rhode Island bartenderess.

The Mine by Daniel R. Cobb
A thriller set in Oregon, a young couple battle Corporate baddies over the expansion of a dangerous mine. There just aren't enough good tales about all the woes of mining, are there?

Lantern's Passage by Andrew L. Macnair
A coming of age tale set in the Outer Banks, which was enough to recommend it to me (though it has so far earned 5 stars from 16 reviewers). I spent many nice summers there growing up and probably can recall every milepost.

Stuck In The Box: A Life In Local TV News by Donna McNeely
This seems to be a novel, but reads a lot like a memoir (McNeely is a former local TV news anchor). No matter, I liked the main character of Jackie right from the first paragraph. And I'll admit I'm a little curious about what happens on the set during commercials.

Raw: A Novel by Steven Revare
Revare is a humor writer from the Midwest and this novel is billed, in part, as a send up of 'the seamy underbelly of the dairy world.' The first scene has our hero obsessing about the pants he's wearing. Unfortunately, I can relate to this.

A Return to Innocence by Kathleen Beales
Untimely deaths, a sailing adventure, bottlenosed dolphins and memories that spring to life decades later... all tantalize.

The Elect by James Gilbert
From the product description: 'Reed Thompson is the country's leading conservative talk radio host...whose uncomplicated existence is turned upside down when the frontrunner for the Republican nomination for president is killed in a helicopter crash on the eve of the New Hampshire primary and Reed is cast into the unlikely role as the heir apparent...'

The Samson Effect by Tony Eldridge
From the back cover: 'A chilling and suspenseful tale of political and religious intrigue set in the unforgiving landscape of the Middle East...' Quote from Clive Cussler on the cover calls it a 'first-class thriller.'

This Week's Indie 500 Booklist...

2011-01-31T06:37:00.000-08:00

Thanks for stopping by! This week's 10 new fiction titles for the Indie 500 Booklist will be published on Wednesday, Feb 2nd.

You can view the books that have been put on the Indie 500 Booklist so far by clicking here.

Please check back on the 2nd, and don't forget to leave a comment. I love hearing from Indie readers and authors!

Ode to Strunk & White

2011-01-26T06:14:00.000-08:00

Enough good things can't be said about the little book The Elements of Style by William Strunk, Jr. and E.B. White. Strunk first self-published an early version of the book in 1918 when he was a professor at Cornell University.

Before you think I'm some kind of grammar goddess (my posts would contradict this anyway), I will admit that this is a book that I have toted around from dorm to apartment to apartment for more than twenty years and probably have only skimmed. And that's being generous. I mean, grammar? Yawn.

But now that I'm attempting to ply my trade as a writer, I figured I should pay more attention to what Strunk and White have to say. As I proof The Orphan's Daughter, I'm continuously flipping back to it and discovering...oh my... that I do a lot of grammary things wrong. Oopsie. I'm fixing as much as I can, but I'm sure I'm still going to send it out the door with some goofs. But I hope to have eliminated some of them.

If you can patiently plow through the grammar, the book will reward you toward the end. There's a section in the back which E.B. White contributed called 'An Approach to Style,' and it has little to do with grammar at all. For writers constantly looking for true north, I think it serves as a reliable compass. Here's one of my favorite musings:

"Style takes its final shape more from attitudes of mind than from principles of composition, for, as an elderly practitioner once remarked, "'Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.'"

And I'll leave you with this beautiful image:

"A writer is a gunner... writing becomes a question of learning to make occasional wing shots, bringing down the bird of thought as it flashes by."

Happy gunning!

Jan 24 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-01-24T07:00:00.000-08:00

Greetings, readers. Below are the ten new top-rated, self-published novel titles being added to the Indie 500 Booklist today.

Being Plumville by Savannah J. Frierson
This is an interracial love story set in a town called Plumville. I loved the first few pages; I already felt a little heartbroken for Ben and Coralee, because theirs is a time when white men don't go with black women. One reviewer said "Wow...just wow." and another felt it was an "instant classic."

Bella by Steve Piacente
From the product description: "A striking widow intent on proving the military lied about her husband's death lures a Washington journalist into the investigation." I loved the writing in the first few pages. Very crisp and savvy.

'Life's A Bitch. So Am I' by R.E. Conary
This is a novel about a private detective named Rachel Cord. After reading the first three pages, I got the feeling this lady PI doesn't pull any punches, and I was liking her already.

Love Like a Dog by Anne Calcagno
The logline on the cover of the book reads "sometimes the dog rescues the boy." I was reminded of my brother and "his" dog (it was never mine) and can't agree more with this statement. This is a story about "familial devotion, set in contemporary Chicago."

The Margin by Marvin Wiebener
Set in Oklahoma, a rancher and his family are drawn into a mystery involving 'a family heirloom, a single gold candlestick.' I love family mysteries...and Oklahoma is a setting I don't feel gets much time on the page, at least not in what I've seen in the bookstore the past few years.

Or So It Seems by Paul Steven Stone
I'm not even sure how to describe this novel, except to quote the title of the first chapter: "How To Recognize A Disaster While It Is Still In The Development Stage." I have a feeling humor and philosophy will abound here, which I think is groovy.

A Small Fortune by Audrey Braun
About a woman longing to rekindle her marriage and restore peace with her teenage son while on a trip to Mexico (I'm already intrigued). But then she meets a stranger who "sparks a long-dead passion inside her." How could this not be good?

The Storm Killer by Mike Jastrzebski
Jastrzebski writes novels while he's sailing around on his boat. This novel was one of them, and the reviews (31 of them) were exuberant. It's a historical thriller with palm trees. How often does that happen?

Through the Triangle by C.P. Stewart
Per his website, Stewart is a retired teacher, primarily of physics. This novel is a science fiction with a Bermuda Triangle bent. The opening scene is from the perspective of a hawk hunting a rabbit and is pretty grabbing. I'm looking forward to seeing what he does with the Triangle...

A Wayward Wind by John W. Huffman
From the product description: "...is a gripping tale of three former runaways whose troubled past spills over into the present when tragedy unites the trio." ** 2010 Next Generation Indie Award Finalist **

Some Thoughts on Chick Lit

2011-01-19T07:21:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading Jennifer Weiner's chick lit romp Good In Bed, only a mere ten years after it was published. I'm a little late to the party, but there's a reason. The reason is that I'm not really a fan of chick lit. A scoffer, a naysayer, a nonadmirer, even a hater, you name it, that's what I am. I've long avoided any book in that genre as if I might catch lice from touching the cover.

I got Weiner's book from my sister-in-law, so I decided to give it a go. It was also Christmastime, when my brain had wiggled itself into a gelatinous state anyhow. I figured chick-lit was the right thing to be reading.

Then this weird thing kept happening with the book: I kept going back to it. I kept thinking about the main character, Cannie, when I wasn't reading it. I knew her story was going to have a happy ending (because the genre promises that), and on the way to the happy ending, wonderful adventurous lessons would play themselves out (re: genre). A lot of also highly improbable, fairy-tale things happen to Cannie (again re: genre), but I kind of... went with it. Like a soap opera. I knew what I bought, and Weiner at least delivered.

Not to be entirely uninformed, I went to Google when I started writing this post and searched "best books in chick lit" and found a nice website at the top of the search with this irresistible tab at the top: What is chick lit? This particular blogger is sick of chick lit taking such a drubbing from reviewers and the media. I was struck when she wrote how marketing is the problem, when books that have covers with "legs or shoes or shopping bags are truly masking meaningful, touching, hilarious at times and wonderful chick lit stories."

Indeed. This is the unfortunate truth about Good in Bed (see cover). It is surprisingly well written, touching, and full of well-developed characters. But it has a woman's bare legs propped next to a slice of cheesecake on the cover. And don't get me started on the title. Weiner is a writer with high-calibre talent, in my reader and novice writer's opinion. But her book, and all those in her genre, just feel...well... 'slutted up.' Is that what attracts women to books? Weiner's book was a huge bestseller and was published in fourteen countries, so I guess the answer to my question is... yes.

I know, I can hear some of my more interesting friends saying to me "lighten up!" Thank God I have them around because I'm usually too serious for my own good. But I can't help but be a little bothered.

I mean, just the name of the genre - 'chick lit' - only sounds like a brand of chewing gum. It's not "literature authored by a woman." No. It's reduced on both counts - the literature is just 'lit' and the woman is just a 'chick.' Yuck.

But yes, I know what you will say to that. It's just a snappy name for a fun genre. Yes, I guess it is.

Purses, heels, cheesecake, legs, dresses, lapdogs and wedding rings... those are the things of life. And boy, do they sell.

Jennifer Weiner's website

Jan 17 - New on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-01-17T05:00:00.000-08:00

Greetings, readers... below is this week's list of ten new books for the Indie 500 Booklist!

Indie 500 Booklist Criteria
1 - Fiction title self-published 2007 or later
2- 4 stars or better on Amazon or equivalent from min. 10 reviewers
3 - Independent-sounding reviews
4 - Intriguing story concept (in my reader's opinion)
5 - Strong, concise writing (in my reader's opinion)

Indie 500 Booklist additions for the week of January 17th:
(listed alphabetically by title)

And Then She Was Gone by J. Daniel Sawyer
Crime noir... when I read the first few pages it took me straight to my memories of reading Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep. Similar snappy writing.

The Dream Catcher Tour by Paula Buermele
From the author's website: "... an intriguing and sensitive tapestry of tales woven into a delightful novel that reflects the beauty and spirit of women."

How I Learned to Love the Walrus by Beth Orsoff
Opening pages read like a humorous fish-out-of-water story about an ambitious woman who's about to get her comeuppance. Boy, could I relate to this... I will like spending time with Sydney Green.

Leave Me Gasping by T.C. Beacham
A female sleuth on the Florida Gulf Coast... frankly, I'm so sick of winter, the palm trees on the cover definitely grabbed me. But the writing and character of Del Jakes make me want to keep reading.

Letters from Wheatfield by Patrick Shannon
From the product description: "...two transplants from Manhattan write to a cousin back home about the remarkable community that has assimilated and transmuted them."

Probability Angels by Joseph Devon
"A story of strange events and piecing one's life together after it's already over..." (Amazon review from Midwest Book Review)

Remix by Lexi Revellian
Romance, mystery, set in London... described by one reviewer as a 'great escape.' As an American reader, I liked the soothing British timbre of the writing.

Sea Changes by Gail Graham
From the product description: "Newly widowed, Sarah tries to drown herself, only to discover an impossible, alternative world..." Set in Australia.

Swallow by Tonya Plank
My paraphrase of the product description: Sophie Hegel is fresh from Yale Law School, making her way in the 'pedigreed' world of Manhattan, when she's diagnosed with a psychological condition called 'Globus Sensate' - a fist-sized ball at the base of her throat. The book is billed as a 'dark comedy.'

Wing Walking by Harry Groome
A corporate thriller... Groome is a retired Chairman of SmithKline Beecham Consumer HealthCare. One review says: "Harry Groome does for business what John Grisham does for the law." (North Country Public Radio)

DONE!

2011-01-12T04:00:00.000-08:00

I am done with my first novel, world!

Appropriately, on 1/11/11. And I didn't even plan that! It hit me while I was darting down the street to buy provisions for Wednesday's expected snow Armageddon here in the Northeast. I believe very much in signs (just ask my taxi driver, Abdul), so I'll happily take that date as another one.

Now what is next, you ask? It will go something like this...

I will proofread. Carefully. Unlike my post from a few weeks ago, this is not when perfect is for suckers. At this stage of the game, perfect is for people who have a shot at publication and a stable of happy and satisfied readers.

I will circulate the manuscript to a small group of 'beta' readers, mainly people who either don't know me very well or who have a proven track record of cutting me down to size when it's required. In the case of this book, I also have asked some Polish and German readers to react.

Then, I was lucky enough to meet a wonderful literary agent last year at a writer's conference who will get a first look... at a minimum, I know she will give me great feedback, even if she doesn't take it.

After that, we'll see what happens.

On the hot-topic-question of 'will I self-publish?', the answer is a lame maybe. I feel a masochistic yen to collect rejection letters for awhile. Then I'll think more about it. But my opinion is generally that if a new writer self-publishes too early, with a mediocre product, it will be that much harder to sell the next book. Which might (and probably will be) even better. And I'm already 30 pages into novel #2. More on that one later...

Thanks to all of you who have commented along the way with advice and encouragement! I'm sure now that the rejections will start pouring in, I'll continue to need our conversation.

10 Things Revising Has Taught Me About Writing

2011-01-11T06:26:00.000-08:00

I'm in the last pages of my edits to The Orphan's Daughter. It felt like a perfect time to think about what revision has taught me about the actual craft of writing. I think it's true what is often said, that revision is where the real writing happens.

So, writers and revisers, here we go...

1 - Don't fall in love with anything. The first thing you write is oftentimes going to be the worst version. That's OK. Revision is when you make it better.

2 - Cut like a surgeon. Edit dispassionately. If a limb needs to be amputated to save the body, then cut and don't look back.

3 - Be suspicious of pretty sentences. They usually don't say anything.

4 - Don't use a word you have to look up (unless to check the spelling). If you have to look it up, odds are your reader will, too. Or worse, they will just continue on through the book without understanding.

5 - Create a space for the reader's imagination. Don't explain everything. Throw out an idea or a feeling, like throwing out a ball, but don't try to catch it. Let the reader do that.

6 - Don't put words in characters' mouths that they wouldn't logically say in that moment. Act your dialogue out loud. What is your character feeling? Do the words they speak reflect his/her feelings? If you're tempted to roll your eyes when you hear your character talking, fix it until you start taking them seriously.

7 - The novel is not the real world. Your novel's world has its own rules. Everything that happens has to be believable according to whatever rules you create for it. Just because something really did happen in real life doesn't mean it will be believable in your novel. Shine doubt on every plot turn and see if it belongs, or you can help the reader believe it. The reader will give up on your 'novel world' if there are too many things that don't belong.

8 - Don't 'sum up' action in important scenes. If you're feeling too lazy or tired to do the scene justice, leave it for later and go sweep your kitchen.

9 - When something tense is happening, shorten your words and sentences. Don't bog down the moment with description. This is where the reader will start skimming because they want to know what's going to happen. Get them there fast.

10 - Don't stall the resolution of a big cliffhanger. Keep the reader busy with other subplots if you have to wait awhile to reveal something.

To all my writing friends out there, good luck with your revisions!

Jan 10 - First 10 Books on the Indie 500 Booklist

2011-01-10T07:11:00.000-08:00

OK, folks. This was an interesting project to get started on. "Needle in a haystack" doesn't begin to cover it. It's more like tossing a fishing line into the Pacific Ocean and hoping a few good paramecia will bite.

But I dropped the line over and over during the past week and managed to find 10 self-published novels that got me excited. Here's a reminder of my criteria for the Indie 500 Book List:

1 - A fiction title that has been self-published as of 2007 or later
2 - 4 stars or better on Amazon by 10 or more reviewers
3 - Reviews sound independent
4 - Story concept sounds intriguing and original
5 - Writing is strong (where I can read pages)

Also, I picked titles that, as said above, got me excited. Ones in genres or covering topics that interest me: historical fiction, thrillers, women's fiction, crime, mysteries, satires, and stories that involve journeys and cultures different from mine (U.S.). Then there were just some that looked too interesting to pass up, even if they weren't my usual book fare. As much as I could, I also Googled the book and author to check for reviews and general buzz, awards, or reviews about the book, if there is any. I've noted where I found it. So if you're vaguely interested in reading a self-published work, hopefully this list does some of the weeding out for you.

Here are this week's 10 self-published novels worth looking at. I have not read these in entirety, and the Indie 500 is not a review, it's just a list. Ten new titles will be posted every Monday this year, and the cumulative list will be accessible via a link on the top right sidebar of this blog.

1 - Deserts and Mountains: A Novel by Yilmaz Alimoglu
From the back cover: "Reminiscent of Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist with a hint of Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love, Alimoglu's Deserts and Mountains follows the inner and outer journey of expatriate Turk and Sufi, Ali Dogan."

2- River Bones by Mary Deal
Back cover: "A mystery surrounds the lush orchards and farmlands of California's Sacramento River Delta. As Sara Mason returns to her hometown in order to start a new life, she learns that a serial killer is terrorizing its residents."

3 - The Misadventures of Sister Mary Olga Fortitude by Davis Aujourd 'hui
Back cover: "...a satire with a spiritual message..."

4 - Voices Under Berlin: The Tale of A Monterey Mary by T.H.E. Hill
Back cover, review from author Tim Bazzett: "Hill's book is a like a jar of Prego... 'it's all in there'." ** Multiple Award Winner **

5 - Follow the Money by Ross Cavins
My take: From reading the first four pages, this feels a little 'Coen brothers' (which I like).

6 - The Shopkeeper by James D. Best
This is a Western. Strong writing, but not overdone. From the first page: "Richard's three of hearts was in mid-flight when a distant gunshot froze everything but the floating card."

7 - Under the Wolf Moon: A Novel by Barbara Townsend
Historical fiction set in the 1850s Potomac Highlands.

8 - Mercury Falls by Robert Kroese
My take: I'm intrigued by the protagonist, a struggling journalist named Christine, who crosses paths with a ping-pong-playing angel named Mercury. An absurdist poo-pooing of Armageddon, which feels like it would be sweetly reassuring, doesn't it?

9 - Tennis Dates by Colette Friedman and Hillary Leigh Gross
My take: One of the great things about self-publishing is that novellas can find a market. This book is only 144 pages and is a story about two women trying to find Mr. Right. Who can't relate to that, ladies?

10 - The Misplaced Horse by Constance Downes
My take: Ever since reading The Black Stallion as a kid, I'm a sucker for a good horse story. This had 5 stars from 13 reviewers, who sounded 'real.'

The next 10 books for the Indie 500 Booklist post here on Monday, January 17!

Other People's Novels: "Room" by Emma Donoghue

2011-01-08T04:00:00.000-08:00

Room: A Novel

by Emma Donoghue

336 Pages

Little, Brown & Company, September 2010

Amazon rating: 4 stars (462 reviews)

Book or Bust rating: 5 stars (1st half), 2.5 stars (2nd half)

The first thing to applaud about this novel is the author's brave choice of narrator: 5-yr-old Jack. If you have a young child, or are around them much, you know how they talk: repetitive, aimless, droning, suddenly excited, generally happy, inquisitive. Jack is no different. You'd think having a voice like this tell a story for over 300 pages would be an impossible mission. Who can listen to that voice for so long? But as a mother of two boys that age, let me tell you two things: Jack's voice is perfect, and Jack's voice will make you fall in love with him.

If you're familiar with the book, you know the premise of the story: Jack and his Ma live in Room, which is the windowless (except for a skylight) backyard shed of an abductor named Old Nick who got his hands on Ma when she was a college student 7 years earlier. Ma is raped several nights a week in Room, which is how Jack comes about. Ma gives birth to Jack in Room, alone, and has raised him in an 11x11 space for 5 years. But then here is the interesting part about the story: Jack doesn't know there's anything else in the world except Room. To Jack, Room is the whole world. And Ma lets him believe that, which is both gorgeous and heartbreaking.

For Jack, things in Room have an importance like continents, oceans and countries do in our world. Donoghue capitalizes them: Wardrobe, Bed, Rug, Skylight, and Outside. But Outside is just nothing. An outer space. A void. They have a TV, and Jack believes it's all pretend, broadcast from the Cartoon Planet, the Medical Planet, and such otherworldly places. But nothing he sees in the TV is real, or Outside.

Some reviewers have remarked about the tedious sound of Jack narrating the story, but for me, it works (in the first half of the book). Here's why: even though Jack's speech is every bit what I described above, we hang on what he says because he's telling us about a place we don't know. Room. About an existence we don't experience -- not a trapped existence (for Jack doesn't feel trapped), but a sparse existence where even broken eggshells are precious to save and use as a toy. Jack and Ma show us how to treasure things. Small things. A birthday drawing. Rain on Skylight. Sundaytreat. The balloon he's aloud to blow up and play with on the first day of every month. And he wears out every last minute of fun with it. Ma counts the cereal she puts in their bowls each morning. This is a way to see life that we've long since left and forgotten. Jack might as well be describing the surface of Neptune. We are dying to know how it is there.

Here's one exchange between Ma and Jack that is especially touching. Jack is angry because Ma didn't tell Old Nick about his 5th birthday.

"But if you told him, he'd brung me something."

"Bring you something," she says. "So he says."

"What kind of something?" I wait. "You should have remembered him."

Ma stretches her arms over her head. "I don't want him bringing you things."

"But Sundaytreat --"

"That's different, Jack, that's stuff we need that I ask him for." She points to Dresser, there's a blue folded up. "There are your new jeans, by the way."

She goes over to pee.

"You could ask him for a present for me. I never got a present in my life."

"Your present was from me, remember? It was the drawing."

"I don't want the dumbo drawing." I'm crying.

Ma dries her hands and comes to hold me. "It's OK."

"It might --"

"I can't hear you. Take a big breath."

"It might --"

"Tell me what's the matter."

"It might be a dog."

"What might?"

I can't stop. I have to talk through the crying. "The present. It might be a dog turned to real, and we could call it Lucky."

The second half of the book works less well than the first half. Things change. I won't say what, but Jack's precious observations are not so precious anymore.

This book is well worth reading, and perhaps you'll feel differently about the back half than I do. As one Amazon reviewer very aptly put it: half a room is better than no room at all.

Bravo, Emma!

Emma Donoghue website

New York Times review, 9.12.2010 (contains spoilers!)

LA Times review, 9.29.2010 (spoiler-free!)

Add All Shop Bot - list of best online prices for Room

Thesis vs. Novel Throwdown

2011-01-05T06:25:00.000-08:00

Until I wrote The Orphan's Daughter, 359 pages (right stack above), the longest thing I'd ever written was the thesis I had to turn in for my B.A. in History at the University of Virginia. It was entitled The Matthew Hopkins Witch-hunt: an opportunity for persecution, 33 pages and 7 pages of footnotes (left stack). I won't tell you how long ago I produced the thesis, but let's just say it nearly had to be printed on a dot matrix printer. Eww.

The novel was way more fun to write. Here's why:

1 - No footnotes

2 - Things can blow up

3 - People might even pay to read it (I'm betting nobody is going to pay to read this sentence, from the thesis: The Civil War put a choke hold on the normal judicial machinery and the uncertainty of life in time of war exacerbated tensions among the inhabitants of East Anglia, already losing their footing in the quicksand of shifting social mores upset by the Reformation. What's funny about that sentence is that the professor wrote "good writing!" in the margin.)

4 - It has characters who might eventually be played on screen by cool actors like Lindsey Lohan

5 - It has a greater variety of alternate functions, like doorstop, headrest or booster seat

I'll post a review of Emma Donoghue's Room on Saturday morning... until then, that stack on the right needs a little more spiffing up. Have a good rest of the week!

Introducing the "Indie 500 Book List"

2011-01-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

Probably like many of you, I became intrigued by the proliferation of self-published books last year. My interest was kicked off at the Self-Publishing Book Expo in New York in October when the guy from Amazon told me I could upload my book to Kindle, literally, "like that." He even snapped his fingers when he said it. I walked out of the Sheraton onto Seventh Avenue figuring the gates to publishing glory had been opened to me. Just like that.

Well, sort of. After mulling the whole business over for a few months, I came to the conclusion that there's one significant problem with self-publishing and that's that anybody can do it. To put it in canned MBA terms, there's no 'barrier to entry,' which usually means there will be a lot of entrants all fighting each other on price alone and selling pretty poor quality, undifferentiated products.

But they can't all be bad, I thought. There have to be some excellent writers out there who the traditional publishing world has decided to pass over. And these writers can use all the exposure they can get.

So to help these writers, and to help you readers discover some hidden gems, I decided to take on a project this year to build a list of the 500 best-reviewed, highest-rated self-published fiction titles on the market today. I will try to read as many of them as I can, but thanks to my Kindle I will be able to sample the early pages of most of them to see if I agree with the hype.

But I need your help! Here's the criteria I'll be using for the list:

Indie 500 Book List criteria
1 -- A fiction title that has been self-published (Xlibris, Createspace or other) in last 3 yrs (2007 or later)
2 -- Title has a minimum of 4 stars on Amazon (or equivalent from any other rating service) from 10 or more reviewers
3 -- Reviews sound independent - not Mom or the best friend
4 -- Story concept seems intriguing and original
5 -- Writing is concise with a strong voice (where I can Look Inside the Book or sample on Kindle)

Underlying the criteria above is that inclusion on the list will be based, as much as I can judge it, on independent reader feedback. In other words, what the market has to say about the book, not what the author, their representatives, or a paid mention in Publishers Weekly has to say. If you are a self-published author of fiction, feel free to send me your title if it meets Criteria 1-3 above.
A page will sit on the right sidebar called INDIE 500 BOOKLIST, and starting Monday, January 10, I will update it with 10 new self-published titles every week this year until I get to 500. I will also leave a comment on the book's sales page at Amazon that the title has been added to this list.

If you have read a self-published book recently that has impressed you, please leave a comment with the title and I will check it out for inclusion on the Indie 500 Booklist. I'm looking forward to building this list with your help!

2011's Rules to Write By

2011-01-03T00:01:00.000-08:00

Readers, Writers... Booksters, welcome to 2011!

Well, it's a new year. A fresh page. What will we do with it? I have some personal goals for the year, as I'm sure you do. But for 2011, I thought I needed to work on my head a little, too.

If you're a reader and you haven't spent a lot of time producing your own writing, I can tell you that writing is a mind trip. It's about spending a lot of time crawling around in the crevices of your brain. And even when you walk away from the keyboard, the little mouse in your head is still nibbling around. The brain is never quiet.

To make matters a little more dicey, writing is also about spending time in your brain, and then emerging to find that there is nobody around to pull you back to the ground. That is, before you have an agent or publisher, which is my case and probably will be for awhile. I very often spent 2010 craving some element in my life to ground me. I used to be comfortably settled in a cubicle, part of a team, part of a corporation with a grandiose mission, part of something bigger than myself. But now, what I'm part of can be as huge or minuscule as I decide it is everyday. A lot of times, I decide what I'm doing is very unimportant. I convince myself that nobody will read what I'm writing. So why am I doing it? No surprise, that kind of thinking makes it easy to go off and do something else. Not write. Anything else. But then, I only feel worse.

So for 2011, I sat down and wrote out the five rules that I thought would make the most difference in my mindset, my satisfaction with writing and my overall happiness. These are a little Pollyanna, I know, but it seems there's possibly no other way to keep my mood in check. If you have any of these, I'd love to know about them - please leave a comment!

Five Writer's Rules for 2011

1 -- Write especially when you don't feel like it.

2 -- Come to the page each time with optimism. Don't get mad at the writing.

3 -- Ignore the destination. Write only for the joy of putting words together.

4 -- Write everyday. Even if it's just a shopping list.

5 -- Celebrate the successes of others.

2010 Best Books: If this book were an animal, it would be...

2010-12-24T00:01:00.000-08:00

Booksters, here is my contribution to the 2010 Book Lists circulating through the online reading community these days.

My rating system is not as much a rating as a barometer of mood. I usually like something about every book I read. But what I remember is the mood it put me in. So I thought I would assign an animal to some of my favorite reads this year to give you an idea of its mood. Maybe one of these moods will strike you.

An APE... would be Gary Shtyengart's Absurdistan. Most definitely. The main character, Misha, comes off as big, clumsy, genitally deformed, block-headed, sex-driven. I actually didn't like him all that much (what a surprise, I know), but Shtyengart really is a magician with language so for that alone it's worth watching Misha stomp around for a few hundred pages.

An OWL... would be my perennial favorite, which I read again this year, To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. The owl is, above all else, wise. So is this book. Wise, quiet, big-eyed, melodious and furry.

A HYENA... would be Philip Roth's The Plot Against America. I just had this idea of Roth hanging in the wings laughing at me for buying his 'alternate history' that Lindbergh became president of the U.S. in 1940 and America turned into a country as anti-semitic as Nazi Germany. But I did buy it. My favorite scene is when the main character, Philip (see, it even reads like a memoir!), gets locked in a bathroom and his friend's mother talks him out.

An EAGLE... would be Colum McCann's Let The Great World Spin. This novel swoops in wide arcs and returns again and again to the same circle of earth that we know as New York City in the year 1974. It's majestic, commanding, beautiful to watch in motion.

A SQUIRREL... would be Ian McEwan's Atonement. This novel sits with its nut and chews and chews and chews. It did get a little tiresome, all that chewing, but McEwan's humanity shines through in every nibble and it's why you go along for the read. People are complicated. Jumpy. Jealous. Hoarders of their own fates. It's a book you'd like to pet, but it leaps out of reach just as you put out your hand.

A CHAMELEON... would be Jeffrey Eugenides's Middlesex. It's about a woman turning into a man, so this seemed the only appropriate animal. Its whole mood is transformation, but not just of Calliope into Cal.

A GERMAN SHEPHERD... would be Bernhard Schlink's The Reader. For obvious reasons. Hanna is a fascinating character. She survives on her instincts, and her instincts drive her from one bold handling of her teenage lover to the next: Rescue. Clean. Dominate. Scold. Fear. Hide. Woof!

Happy reading and a Merry Christmas!

"I wish I had a little more talent"

2010-12-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

I was sort of tied in knots yesterday. I did, at one point, make a noise at the computer screen that sounded like a growl. I wasn't sure. I know things are wrong with my novel that I just don't seem to have the juice, or skill, or both to fix. I just have to finish it. I stopped editing at Page 280 out of 349 pages. 70 more to go. And most of the pages I don't love, and I see the machinations of the author on practically every scene. Amateur hour.

After we put the kids to bed last night, I left my husband in the living room watching "The Wire," and I went to the little corner of our bedroom where my computer sits. I turned it on. I had the intention of working more on the novel, but instead I went to YouTube and typed "Stephen King" into the search. There are just some people who can calm you down with their homespun view of the world and the people in it. He's one of them for me.

Around minute 9:00 of this video, he looks the interviewer in the eye and says that the thing he thinks about a lot is that he wishes he were better. I wasn't sure I even heard him right. "I wish I had a little more talent, a little more originality," he says. "I wish I were better."

Perfect Is For Suckers

2010-12-22T03:00:00.000-08:00

I spent a hard three hours revising on Tuesday. Doesn't sound like much, I know, but it turns out that Stephen King only spends three hours a day writing. Eight? Forget it. Although you could convincingly argue that his three hours are more efficient than mine, I'm not worried. He has a few years on me. I am where I am.

I probably started my editing today somewhere around page 185, so I got through close to 50 pages. Out to Page 229 of a total 347. You could say I'm a woman on a mission. Something about gnawing my way through retail the past two weeks has put an edge on me.

Wednesday I will get myself to Page 275. The nice thing about being in Draft 4 is that I know the story like (yes, I know, this is a cliche) the back of my hand. I know what needs fixing and where. At least to the extent I'm capable as a novice novel writer.

My motto for this week has become: Perfect is for suckers. I might make a button out of it. I've been quite hung up with being "perfect" or at least "very, very good" as I get closer to finishing the novel. As if my brain is trying to say: now it's time for the rock 'em, sock 'em. But I'm realizing now that locking into that state of mind has been slowing me down. I took the bar and not only raised it, but loaded it onto the the space shuttle and sent it on a Mars mission. Enough of that.

Oh, and that narrator thing. I did go back to Page 1 today and started to write her in. The woman on the Finnair flight. Honestly, I really like her. But after three new paragraphs, I realized how sick I was of being on Page 1 (I spent a lot of time there back in November). I saved her material and tucked it away in the event I need her later (read: in the event I am rejected wholesale by the industry and need to rethink my opener). For now, I'm going to smooth out the flashback and present-day voice and keep moving. I will probably clean up each flashback to put it into the point-of-view of different women in the story, to have some point-of-view synergy with Agnes's in the present day. But that's, as my mother is fond of saying, "good enough for government work."

Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

And remember: Perfect is for suckers.

(I just proofread and can hear the literary agents saying "then good luck getting me to read past the first two sentences... ha ha." The corollary to my motto might be: Perfect is for published authors, but I'm going to ignore that I just wrote that.)

A Writer's Favorite Things

2010-12-21T06:10:00.000-08:00

I'm about to sign off and edit another 25 pages. But before I go, given the season, I thought I would share a few of my favorite things. Things that soothe and things that help me stand the hours by myself. Or help me think. Or frankly, just taste good.

12 - Earplugs!

11 - My egg timer (I have trouble transitioning from one writing activity to another... so I'm treating myself like a toddler. It works.)

10 - Scented candles (I'm trying Tyler's candle called "Paris" right now.)

9 - Ellen DeGeneres's opening monologue + dance (4 - 4:05 EST) (where else can you get a joke and a hip-hop dance move in the same five minutes?)

8 - Peppermint tea

7 - 10 minutes of watching Ina Garten stir something (gosh, how I wished she lived next door!)

6 - My necklace of a 1 zloty coin (Polish money - I put it on when I sit down to work on The Orphan's Daughter and it signals to my brain 'time to get going.')

5 - A long, soft scarf around my neck

4 - Fig newtons

3 - The ceramic mug from my sister-in-law with an elephant on it (it makes me think of 'strength')

2 - My blog and tweet friends

1 - Any sudoku puzzle (after hours of writing, my favorite thing is a number!)

What are the favorite things that get you through your workday? Leave a comment - I'd love to pick up some new favorites!

My Favorite Place To Read A Novel

2010-12-20T12:01:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last week fiddling with the problem I have in The Orphan's Daughter with narrator.

Just to remind you: the problem my critiquers pointed out was that the voice in the flashbacks felt entirely different from the voice in the present-day story. The options I played with to solve were using another person as a narrator (either Edmund Hitler or the female writer on the Finnair flight) or just using what I have but with a more consistent voice between the present-day sections and flashbacks.

During this time, I was finishing Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann. It's a great book to read if you're thinking about narrator and voice, either as a writer or reader. There are 12 voices in that book (if I counted correctly). Some are done exceptionally well, like the Tillie Henderson chapter, and some are even beyond the ambitions of Mr. McCann. The voice of his Guatemalan immigrant character, Adelita, for example, just sounds a bit too literary: "The white sheets move with his body. A man's beard is a weather line: an intersperse of light and dark, a flurry of gray at the chin, a dark hollow beneath his lip." It didn't hurt my enjoyment of this jewel of a novel, but I realized during Adelita's whole chapter how everything felt over-observed. The way a novelist would over-observe, maybe, but not a single mother raising two kids in the Bronx.

As for my own book and its narrator, my thoughts kept coming back to that woman on the Finnair flight. She's someone who has a little bit of her own baggage, so to speak. She's flawed. And for this reason, she feels relatable. She's someone I wouldn't mind having tell me a story. I think she could be especially good at pulling in female readers.

Taking her on, however, will mean I will have to spend more time with the writing than I planned. If I have to connect all the pages back to the woman on the plane, they will need to have her tone throughout. The present day sections can probably stay as-written, but what to do with the flashbacks? I'm thinking of bringing her voice out, more self-consciously, as she alludes to research, and interviews, and then tells the story of different family members as she heard it from Agnes.

Using her also gives me more freedom to drop in historical explanations where I need them. This has been one problem that's come up again and again in critiques: the need for more historical context. The lebensborn program is something most people have never heard of. And I haven't let my narrator say much about it, maybe because I was trying to only say and "think" things on the page as they would be said and thought by Agnes. But Agnes struggles along until the climax when many things are explained, both to her and the reader.

There's another plus with the woman on the plane, and it's harder to articulate. It's a certain aesthetic, or vibe, you might call it. I like the feeling of "cozying up" inside a plane, in the dark, under the dome of a reading light, to hear a story. As a reader, it's one of my favorite places to read. When I think of that woman as narrator, I want to stop time. Things feel quieter. Farther away. Into thinner air where birds can't fly. Thinking of that quiet, high space and slowed-down time gives me an energy to finish writing the story.

And if there has been any truth to writing this novel so far, it's that I should go where the energy leads me.

Other People's Novels: The Bronte Sisters. Sort of.

2010-12-17T06:30:00.000-08:00

Booksters, I think all of us may be a little strung out on holiday preparations, so here's something light and funny for this Friday. Thanks to my good friend Susan for sending this to me. She's always on the lookout for things that will help me develop as a writer.

5 Tactics to an Authoritative Voice

2010-12-16T05:16:00.000-08:00

If I had to put one thing at the top of the list of what distinguishes a 'market competitive' book versus a mediocre one, one that might never find an agent or publisher, it's voice. There are three things I've observed that the publishing world looks for in voice: it's likable, it's 'new' and original, and it's authoritative.

As a new writer, I've spent a lot of hours experimenting with how to get an authoritative voice into The Orphan's Daughter. Here's the bottom line conclusion I've drawn: it takes years of experience. It's a pithy comparison, I know, but 'authority' is like wine. Some vintages just taste better after many years have passed. And because I don't really aspire to be the Beaujolais Nouveau of writers, I need to be patient.

Outside of patience, I think there are tactics any writer can stick to from the get-go that will contribute to how authoritative their voice is on the page. These are the 5 that have been most important for me so far.

#5 - Respect your schedule. Be a professional. If you don't take your story seriously, how can you expect the reader to?

#4 - Read other voices. Study them. See why they attract or repel you. Why you believe the voice or not. Why you like it. Then examine your own voice and think about how those ingredients fit in.

#3 - Write reviews about your book. Imagine it's published to rave reviews. Here's a few I wrote for The Orphan's Daughter. I'll admit, they got me pumped.

"Romo's novel explores the themes of cowardice, guilt, loneliness and artifice with subtlety and grace. Her story contains one of the most insightful and honest views into humanity that I've ever read." - Jonathan Franzen

"Agnes Mueller is a timeless American heroine. You'll want to root for her from the very first page." - Publisher's Weekly

"The Orphan's Daughter moves like the crack of a whip right from page 1. Never have we seen the Hitlerian nightmare in this way." - The New York Times

#2 - Know the world you're writing about, or spend time there. Research. Talk to people. Think about what they say and expand on it in your fiction. Yes, fiction is essentially about making things up, but you have to make them up in the context of what the reader will agree is plausible. Also, getting a blatant fact wrong will sink you. The jig will be up.

And the #1 tactic is - Believe. Suppress your negative, self-doubting inner voice. Lock it up. It will leak into your writing. If you don't have stacks of published books to your credit, all you can do is march onto the stage with your chest out.

In many ways, voice is very much a matter of taste. The voice that turns on one reader may be uninteresting to another. But outside of taste, the voice has to be unarguably in control of the story. For most new writers (and I include myself), this is one of the toughest snakes to charm.

I'm sure there are other important things to keep in mind. If you're a writer... please share what works for you!

My 10 Platform-Building Goofs

2010-12-15T12:32:00.001-08:00

With the book in much need of editing, I'm a little ashamed to tell you I've spent the whole day on social media. It's addicting, right? Especially when the other thing on my plate is to edit a novel. Tweeting and blogging with folks seems, well, easier. And more fun. And it probably releases some optimal hormones.

And I know if I can say to an agent or editor that I have thousands of fans and followers, that will help my case vis a vis my little novel. So I'm trying to figure out this thing everyone in the publishing industry keeps raving about called "platform."

I did some homework today to see what I might be doing wrong on that front. Dan Zarrella, a Social Media scientist, played a big role in my education today - so thanks, Dan. I could spend about a week reading all the content on his website.

Based on Dan's research (data from hundreds of thousands of blogs and millions of Tweets and Shares), I made a list of my biggest platform-building and blogging goofs. Maybe some of them are yours, too?

10 - I'm talking about myself too much. Honestly, if my blog is about writing a novel, I'm not sure how to get away from that one. But I'll have to think on it.

9 - My shares on Facebook are too technical (publishing hoo-hah and otherwise). Dan's best line: "Facebook is the Jersey Shore of social media."

8 - I don't always use spellcheck. Turns out grammar counts.

7 - I'm not putting up a post on Saturday. The biggest day for comments seems to be... Saturday. Who knew?

6 - I could be posting more. Even several times a day. People seem to like up-to-the-minute timeliness.

5 - I'm not posting early enough. Other bloggers go looking for links early in the morning... and my post isn't out there until 10 am sometimes.

4 - I'm probably rehashing too much of what everyone else is saying. I need to inject more of my own unique opinion and insight - what the ad biz calls a 'unique selling proposition.'

3 - My posts are too long.

2 - My posts don't have enough videos and pictures.

1 - I wasn't using the Facebook "like" button (only the "share" button). Until today. Now it's there.

Check out some of Dan's research and see where your goofs are. Leave a comment if you already know them!

NPR: Indie Booksellers Pick 2010 Favorites

2010-12-15T00:01:00.000-08:00

Booksters, every spare word is going to our Orphan's Daughter at the moment, so I'm going to punt you over to this lovely article I found yesterday. You can always rely on NPR to support the little guy. On my wishlist from this list are several, but at the top is A Week At The Airport by Alain de Botton. In it, the philosopher describes the vibe in Heathrow's new Terminal 5 over the course of a week. Talk about rich material.

Not only have I not read any of these books, I've never even heard of them. So they must be good. Take that, New York Times Bestseller List!

Enjoy!

Fresh Delivery: Indie Booksellers Pick 2010 Favorites

A Narrator?

2010-12-14T06:45:00.000-08:00

When I boarded the Finnair flight from Helsinki to Chicago, it looked like planes always look to me. Final resting places. Tombs. Coffins. The flight attendants milled. Their hair was as yellow as a legal pad. I went to my seat and sat next to another blond with high cheekbones, her jaw and face full of as many angles as her legs and arms. Not like the apple-cheeked blonds handing out newspapers. I knew the plane had come from Warsaw and I figured she must be Polish.

Eventually, we spoke, and I heard her Chicago accent. We hit it off. Turned out she had the same thoughts about planes that I did. The only difference between us was that she smelled like vodka.

"Screwdriver," she said. "When it's a morning flight, I figure at least there's some orange juice mixed in."

At one point, I asked her if she really believed her grim view of air travel. She sighed and looked toward the nipple of the air vent. Her hair fell away from her face and I realized how young she was. Maybe thirty, if that.

"I figure you can't be disappointed. If you land safely and walk away, it's like finding out you have more time than you thought. Time to fix things."

I nodded politely and she smiled with a tiny wince of apology. We both knew she had said something that required a line of inquiry from me, but I wasn't biting. I didn't even know her name.

Later, when we were somewhere over Greenland, the flight got rough. She started talking nervously to the back of the seat in front of her, but loudly, like she wanted me to be listening. So I did.

"I figured," she started, "that if there were maybe two hundred thousand people like my father, there have to be half a million like me. The kids. And the grand kids? There will be millions of them."

This time, I thought I ought to be polite. "And what about them?"

She drew a long sip on another screwdriver and bit nervously into the mini straw. "They aren't who they think they are."

"What do you mean?"

She turned towards me. "You're a writer? Can you write about something, if I tell you? But you have to change our names. Can you do that? People should know." The plane shuddered. I wasn't sure I wanted to write about something that had to be so cloaked in anonymity. Then who would believe it? But I had been writing too long about herbal remedies and caribou. This felt like a story.

I took out my notebook, the one filled with interviews with Helsinki horticulturalists about the likely extinction of a rare yellow buttercup. I skipped two pages. I started at the top of a fresh one with a blue pen that still had plenty of ink.

This is what she told me.

My 9 Memories of Colum McCann

2010-12-10T00:01:00.000-08:00

Image from www.visitdublin.com

My husband and I went this week for the first time to the Symphony Space in Manhattan for a program they have called Selected Shorts. This past Wednesday, the program was hosted by National Book Award-winning novelist Colum McCann. Three acclaimed short stories (one of which was his) were read aloud by three actors. It was about as low-tech as entertainment gets.

It didn't matter. It was sold out, every seat filled. I'll remember 9 odd little things from sitting four rows off the stage that night. I was close enough to tell you if he had bad breath or not (he doesn't). And if you can't tell, I would have been awed by watching him chew gum for an hour. After all, he knows how to do what I so desperately want to do myself.

9. He said tonight was his last appearance for a long time because he needed time to sit in a room and do what he does. Write.

8. He said novels are an "exploding universe" and short stories are an "imploding universe." The short story is small and tight and compact. But novels? They can spin out of control and spray their shrapnel everywhere.

7. He didn't shave for the occasion. (I would have been disappointed if he had.)

6. He said "People say the short story is the chamber music of literature. I think it's the whole orchestra."

5. He wore the professor well: wrinkled khakis that were at least one size too big, a scarf and a blazer with elbow patches.

4. He rocked on his heels and shoved his hands deep in his pockets when he seemed at a loss for words. "Honored" was what he called it, with the "r" tightened by his Irish brogue.

3. He came back from the intermission with a little buzz from his wine, which he was happy to tell us about.

2. He heard his story, Everything In This Country Must, read aloud for the first time. Ever. (It was ably read by Amy Ryan, who plays the character of Holly Flax on The Office.)

1. He wanted to call his "mum and dad" in Dublin and tell them his name was in lights on Broadway: "An Evening With Colum McCann." But he didn't because it was too late in Dublin by then. Ah well.

Will Readers Hate Me For This?

2010-12-09T06:05:00.000-08:00

(Sorry this post is a little long, Booksters, but I do need your help working this one out...)

I have some issues with the narrator in The Orphan's Daughter that I've been avoiding. That might partly explain my recent stall (though I will still pin some of the blame on Santa and his time-suck of a holiday).

The narrator, it turns out, is pretty important. It's the sound in the reader's head from page 1 until the end.

To point to my favorite example, the narrator in To Kill A Mockingbird is, of course, Scout as a grown woman. I can't read the novel now without hearing the sound of the adult actress who spoke as grown-up Scout in the movie version. I can't. That lilting, quiet, reflective voice with a steady pitch of longing all wrapped in the cadence of a southern accent. That's the narrator of the novel for me. The voice. The authority to believe what is, essentially, all made up. And it's what makes me like Scout and want to know what happened to her brother, her father and poor Tom Robinson.

To boil down the narrator problem with The Orphan's Daughter, it basically has to do with time. There is a present-day story (Agnes's story) and there are handfuls of flashbacks between the years 1941 and 1948, in Germany and Poland.

Readers of the manuscript have tended to love the flashbacks, but many of them have said they don't know who's 'talking.' The flashbacks have this 'voice of God' sound, disembodied. I wanted the flashbacks to be an omniscient narrator - someone who can see and know everything - but the narrator is coming off so disembodied that the effect is only far, far away. Too far.

In the present-day story, the narrator is an adult looking back. Not Agnes, but someone who knew her well, and can tell you all about her journey inside and out. Maybe a great aunt or uncle. But the narrator is close in terms of psychic distance, and the point of view is solidly Agnes's. Readers don't know what any other characters, or the narrator, think or feel. Only Agnes.

The effect of the 'omniscient' flashback and the 'close-in 3rd person' present-day story is that the flashbacks sound too different from the present-day story. Whenever a flashback starts, my readers seem to be losing that sound in their heads. They spend the first few pages of every trip backwards trying to fine-tune their reception. I somehow have to unite the voices.

These are some of the options I've been playing with to try and solve it -

-- Have one omniscient narrator who jumps from the present to past, close to Agnes, and close to one character in each flashback. Maybe close to all the women - Agnes and her grandmothers? (There are several. It's complicated.) He's not any person, he's anonymous, just a voice.

-- Create a new character who has heard Agnes's story and is retelling it, flashbacks and all. Does Agnes meet someone and confess all, somewhat guiltily? Begs them to tell the world? Maybe this is a failed, middle-rate journalist who feels Agnes's story is his chance to write about something important? (This was approximately the technique Robert James Waller used in The Bridges of Madison County, to somewhat of a nice effect. The characters of Kincaid and Francesca seemed hyper-real because the narrator told us he 'researched' them.)

-- Put the story in the words of someone important from history, with him as a more self-conscious narrator, who expresses opinions about what he's relating. There's only one person I have in mind here, and that's a real boy named Edmund. Edmund wasn't important because of anything he did. He died on February 2, 1900 when he was six years old. Measles. My thought is that, after that point, beyond the grave, he had a ringside seat for the whole messy unfolding of the 20th century. And better than an anonymous narrator, he has something at stake in Agnes's story. A desire for atonement. A desire to be relieved of any guilt by association. Because Edmund is Adolf Hitler's younger brother.

I probably wouldn't reveal his identity until the end, maybe in an epilogue, that this voice in the reader's head all along has been this poor, dead Austrian boy. I worry that readers will be furious. That the book will be viewed as an apology for the Holocaust. But how can you fault a dead 6-yr-old just because of who he's related to? But then, isn't that what Agnes is afraid of all along? Being faulted because of who she's related to?

I wrote a prologue with Edmund and Adolf playing together as boys and then scrapped it because readers said it seemed miles away from 1970s Chicago, where Chapter 1 kicks off. It is. But maybe there's something to do with Edmund that is more subtle than a whole scene of his own. Maybe this is partly his story? Maybe he would want us to know what he knows? And what does he know?

Edmund as narrator feels ambitious - am I a good enough writer? - and risky. But he has dogged me since I read about his early death during some research I was doing about Hitler. He somehow wants to be in this book. Somewhere.

Booksters, which way do I go with this?

World. Go. Away.

2010-12-08T13:09:00.000-08:00

Booksters, whether you're trying to get through a dense book that you refuse to abandon, or trying to write one, do you ever feel like everything is getting in your way?

Kids need dinner. Every night.

Presents need buying.

Then there's Christmas cards. This year, I told my husband I was going on Christmas card strike. But now I'm guiltily answering the ones we do get with a quick note.

Dinner reservations need to be made for a family visit.

Kids want to go to Radio City. Need to buy the tickets.

Kiddie gloves get lost and the temps drop below freezing. Can't wait. Must go buy more.

Need to read for my novel class and my critique group. Hundreds of pages a week. Thankfully (though I love the company), the class is almost over.

Then there's Colum McCann. And tonight should be a fun night, but it just feels like it's... in the way.

And according to the goal I set for myself back in November, I should be at around page 250 with my editing for The Orphan's Daughter by today and I am only at page 160.

Everything's getting in the way. And I'm letting it. And I wake up more upset about it the next day. I feel so ravenous for quiet minutes that I don't even want to stop to shower. How bad is that?

I love you world, and I want us to be friends. I want to make something for you that you will love. But now, can you just please, for a little while, go away?

Amazon's Book Discounting: How Much Is Too Much?

2010-12-07T09:23:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned yesterday, J.A. Konrath's blog, A Newbie's Guide to Publishing, has given me lots of hope that an "Indie" writer (meaning self-published) has all the tools at their disposal to build their own writing career. They don't necessarily have to wait years for the New York publishing establishment to "choose" them. Not anymore. I was even inspired to rant optimistically on the topic after attending the Self-Publishing Book Expo in New York in October: Self-Publishing? Thumbs Up or Down?

One of the reasons Indie writers have such a shot is because of Amazon. Bookstores mainly ignore Indies, which used to be a problem because that used to be where most buyers went to buy books. To be in most bookstores, you have to have been "chosen" and nestled into the bloodstream of that ages old Establishment.

But not at Amazon. Amazon has unlimited shelf space for an unlimited amount of books, a reliable infrastructure for reviewer comments ("was this review helpful to you?" was a great innovation on that front), and a reliable and easy purchasing experience for the buyer.

Then I found this article about Amazon: Books After Amazon in the Boston Review. It is long, but seems to be well-researched and it is full of anecdotes about Amazon's many tactics strong-arming big publishers on pricing, either removing an author's "buy" button or entire product if the publisher refuses to set the discount price where Amazon says. This has become such a problem, that the Author's Guild created a website that tracks the location of an author's Amazon "buy" button and notifies the author if it goes missing: WhoMovedMyBuyButton.com

Reading this article, it underlined for me that in the entire cycle of writing and selling a book, the most important aspect of the process is this: Price. I might even go so far as to say that Price is more important than the Writing. Really, think about it. How many times have you purchased something that wasn't entirely great quality and found yourself saying "But it was only X dollars..."

And on Price, this article makes clear that Amazon calls 100% of the shots. Publishers aren't setting prices. Amazon is. But, you say, isn't this ultimately good for the consumer? Everything's cheaper? But what about the worker who brought you that product? What do they get? What about the worker in Bangladesh who made that cotton t-shirt that Target is selling for $6.99? What do they get? Same thing. Close to nothing.

Any party involved in the production and distribution of a good deserves to earn a wage in exchange for their labors. If this basic economic principle does not hold up, you've lost the means of production. You've lost the basic incentive to produce. You're left with either slavery or shortage.

Amazon appears to favor slavery. The "wage" is evaporating. This is part of the reason Indie writers are going Indie. There's no money left for anybody except the writer. And who knows how much of the writer's earnings will be chipped away in the coming months and years.

I suddenly found myself sympathetic to the likes of Random House and Simon & Schuster. Yes, they have to adapt. They have to trim back. 2011 is no longer the world of the Midtown Agent/Editor lunch and they need to get over it. But these firms do add something to the process -- experience discerning good writing from bad, quality editing, design, distribution, marketing (a little) -- and they deserve a wage for that. Less, in my opinion, but they still deserve it.

If the publishing world changes entirely on Amazon's terms, what will happen to the quality of what we are reading? It will have to get worse. If you've ever held one of those $6.99 t-shirts up to the light, you will notice something: you can see right through it.

If you're a reader, writer, editor, or better yet, somebody from Amazon, I'd love to know your thoughts on this topic. What can a lone writer do? How much control over their own product can they really have?

eBooks vs Paper? Who Will Win?

2010-12-06T06:54:00.000-08:00

Like I've said once before, one of the rules of taking writing seriously is to learn, learn, learn.

Even though I quit my marketing job to write, I have found a surprising outlet for my business head in trying to figure out the publishing industry these days. With both ebooks and advances in self-publishing coming together like a perfect storm, they way authors write and publish and the way readers read is in a total upheaval. Any writer these days can't afford to ignore those dymanics if they hope to write for an audience.

Crime writer J.A. Konrath's blog has literally become my classroom. His latest post gives his paper and ebook sales figures, which you don't often run across in blogs. I love all the numbers, as it helps me to think about the financial end of what I myself am doing.

If you're a curious writer or even a reader who is reluctant to move to ebooks, this post is worth a look. There's some interesting fortune telling about the future of books.

A Newbie's Guide to Publishing: Konrath Self-Pubbed Sales#links#links

Other People's Novels: Colum McCann Pt. I

2010-12-03T06:41:00.000-08:00

I finally had to give up on Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep part way through. It's an excellent novel, but I kept wanting to write my own novel in a similar voice. As if I could put Agnes on a chaise lounge with a feather boa smoking a cigarette and calling everybody "Darling." My own writing was starting to sound kind of... off.

The next book in my queue is Colum McCann's Let The Great World Spin. McCann's list of honors is too long to mention here, but this particular book won the 2009 National Book Award. It might not be the best criteria, but when books win awards I tend to pay more attention. The writer must have done something right.

Having not read through much of it yet, I'll let the author's publicist tell you about the book. This is from Colum McCann's website http://www.colummccann.com:

The novel begins in August 1974 as a tightrope walker makes his way through the dawn light across the World Trade Center towers, stunning thousands of watchers below. Using the true story of Philippe Petit as a pull-through metaphor, McCann crafts a portrait of the city and a people... Elegantly weaving together... seemingly disparate lives, McCann’s powerful allegory of 9/11 comes alive in the unforgettable voices of the city’s people, unexpectedly drawn together by hope, beauty, and the tightrope walker’s “artistic crime of the century.” McCann’s most ambitious work to date, Let the Great World Spin has already been described as a triumphant American novel.

My husband just finished the book. This was one of the only times I've ever heard him gasp while he was reading. When I asked him what was wrong, he just said "this writing is just so unbelievable." Forget the book awards, right? What a writer really wants is for the everyday reader to lose his breath. And I should also note that neither my husband nor I are big fans of "9/11 books", but my husband says this book isn't so much about that.

We are going to an event with Colum McCann on December 8th in Manhattan. I'll post "Part II" next Friday about that, and hopefully, I will have finished the book, too and can tell you more of my own impressions.

If any Booksters out there have read his book or have questions they want me to ask of our friend Colum, just let me know. If my husband pokes me in the ribs enough, I might get up the courage to raise my hand during the Q&A.

100% Guaranteed Funk Busters

2010-12-02T13:02:00.000-08:00

OK, Booksters, I've decided that this week is all about stamping out the writer funk. I have some Grade A, First Class, Rot My Brain In Front of the TV FUNK. I can hear the flush of my writing career swishing down a toilet bowl. It's time for drastic measures.

When I feel the wheels coming off my wagon, I read everything I can to try and re-inspire. Here's a paragraph from Ann Rittenberg's "Your First Novel" that usually makes me feel like I'm back on top (or close), no matter what my funk:

And look at it this way - millions of people say they want to write a novel and never do anything about it. Thousands buy books on writing and never read them. Thousands read the writing books but never get around to starting a novel. Thousands read the books, take seminars and workshops, start a novel, and then never finish it. When you finish writing a draft of your book, you are already ahead of millions of other people.

Ahh... what soothing words to my Type A personality. Terrible, but that's what this writer needs to hear.

On the inspiration front, I also must give a shout-out to fellow writer and blogger Holly Bowne and her blog - Write Expressions. It's a great home base for writer inspiration so check it out if you're so in need. http://hollybowne.blogspot.com/

What Holly doesn't know is that her blog sits on my Blogger dashboard and many days, I careen though my posts and my dashboard, read her "inspirational quote" and feel all buoyed by it, and then speed on through to the next thing I have to do. More love must come your way, Holly, as you pick me up more days than you know.

Now, For Something Funny

2010-12-01T07:54:00.000-08:00

After yesterday's post, I thought I owed you all some laughs. Thanks to my college friend and fellow aspiring novelist, David Kazzie, I have just the thing! "So You Want To Write A Novel" is, unfortunately, all too true. But fortunately, it's also hilarious. Thanks, Dave. You put this up just in time to help me dig out of my writer funk.

My favorite line: "I better warn them not to steal my idea because it's copyrighted."

Enjoy, Booksters!

I Just Can't Do This

2010-11-30T06:42:00.000-08:00

At my desk.

The only reason I'm typing is because I know where the "on" switch to the computer is. My goal for today was to turn on the computer. So I did that.

I haven't worked on the novel in five days. You'd think that would be a nice break. I should be fresh. I should have new ideas. I should be ready to roll.

Problem is I've been continually writing and editing in my head almost without stopping across all 120 of those hours. There were a few when I was sleeping, but even during those I was dreaming about things I wanted to fix in the novel. And somewhere in there were close to 12 hours of highway driving. Highway driving only leads to one thing: thinking.

I thought of lots of new ideas for the story, but every time I got a new one I started to get a stomach ache. No, not another one I thought. That would require more writing. More problem solving. Where do I work it in? What will it change in what I've already written? No.

Now I just don't want to look at the thing. I want all those ideas to pack up and go away. I'm just flat out wrecked. My kid's pre-school teacher remarked this morning about how tired I looked. I love when people do that, as if they think you hearing it out loud will somehow perk you up.

I can hear your advice: "Go take a break. Christmas shop. Do something else." But I can't do something else. Then my brain takes over and starts writing across my gray matter, because I've deprived it of paper, and I end up like I am now. Sitting here is now my only option.

But kvetching to you fine people is like Pepto. I'm starting to feel a little better. So, thanks for listening.

Otto Bauer

2010-11-24T06:56:00.000-08:00

Now, to the juicy parts, Booksters.

There's a character in my book named Otto Bauer who has finally shown up. Page 116. I'm so glad. The author has a pretty big crush on this guy, and it shows in the writing. While I'm writing him, I imagine Ralph Fiennes, only taller and younger (early 30s).

He swoops into the novel at just about the time things are falling apart for Agnes. He's a German, from Munich, like her father. He's smart, decisive, determined. He is a heroic character. Agnes needs a guy like this, but there's one big problem: he belongs to Paulina. This isn't a historical romance by any means, but Agnes's confusion over Germany and her father is going to parallel in some ways her confusion over Otto.

In the first draft of the novel, Paulina's boyfriend was an expat from Australia. But by the time I got to draft 3, I realized how much more compelling it would be for her to date a German like Otto. Someone to whom Agnes would naturally be drawn. Someone the reader would love as much as I do. Someone who would embody so many things about Germany that are excellent. I didn't immediately realize what I was doing, but I've made him into the novel's "good German."

Here are two scenes I worked on yesterday:

Paulina whirled around and waved to Otto. Otto Bauer's wavy, sand-colored hair framed his more serious gray eyes. He had the kind of eyes that only looked at things on purpose. He stood well over six feet tall and his height seemed to command attention without him ever needing to say a word. He strode towards them and held out his hand to Agnes, who stood up to meet him.
"You're Agnes?" he said, taking her hand in both of his. Her fingers disappeared into his palms.

Then, about 15 pages later...

Agnes followed Paulina out of the plane, the wink reminding her of Otto when he left them at Tegel. He went to his LOT flight to Warsaw and they went to find their Lufthansa flight to Munich. He called them "girls" and made them promise to call if they ran into any trouble. Then they kissed on the cheeks, all of them. As Otto was hiking up his bag, he turned back and gave them a wink that was as quick as the beat of a dragonfly's wing. But the wink wasn't for them, Agnes now realized. It was for Paulina.

Internet Search Gone Way Wrong

2010-11-23T06:00:00.001-08:00

I didn't edit my 11 pages yesterday. So I'm in a bad mood today. Bad. I decided to skip yoga this morning, which I know is going to hurt me in the long run (it has been great at eliminating the neck and back pain that comes from being at the computer all day).

Anyway, I can't seem to do anything but write. The little fountain pen in my brain won't stop moving and it's going to drive me crazy if I don't write, and write ASAP. I have to edit 25 pages today, or else. Or else I don't know what. Maybe I will take the sweet potatoes and stuffing away from myself on Thanksgiving Day.

Part of what went wrong yesterday was that I went looking for info on doing mock cover art and making a YouTube book trailer. Didn't find much, though I'll admit my Internet surfing went off on a few tangents. Here's one. The "NaNoWriMo Song" that has been viewed over 100,000 times on YouTube. I was curious, what can I say? (NaNoWriMo = National Novel Writing Month)

So, having wasted 3:33 minutes of your life with that, if anyone can steer me to some better info on the Internet about mock cover art and video book trailers, I might not feel so bad about the time I wasted yesterday.

Macy's Herald Square, 3rd Floor Men's Department

2010-11-22T07:23:00.000-08:00

(Spoiler alert! Sorry, Booksters... it's going to get harder to avoid these now.)

This weekend, my husband needed to go to Macy's to buy a winter coat. I went with him, and we brought our 3-yr-old son along.

Part way through the afternoon, my husband took our son to the bathroom and left me sitting in the Starbucks on Macy's 3rd floor (Macy's has a Starbucks on nearly every floor, we noticed).

The bathroom was clear on the other side of the floor. I knew they would be gone for at least a few minutes, so I took out my son's little notebook for scribbling and tore myself a few pages. I remembered what Stephen King wrote about in On Writing: you have to learn to read (and by extension, write) in 'small sips'. Waiting on lines, sitting in public, in between errands.

I'm into Part III of the book's edits now, up to Page 121, where I should be as of Friday. On schedule. I spent a lot of time working on the structure of Part III before I sat down to do the 11 pages of edits on Friday. I'm loathe to blow tons of paper and toner printing out large sections, but I was having trouble getting my arms around the story. I decided to write out the 25 scenes of Part III on a legal pad (above) to see what I've already written and in what order. I read down the page and thought about the experience the reader would have. Does the action move the story forward? Does the tension build?

But all Saturday morning at Macy's, I was troubled by the structure of Part III. The book is a thriller, with several intersecting mysteries and flashbacks. I thought I might not be revealing things in the best order.

So on my son's scribble notebook, sitting next to a row of garland in the Starbucks at Macy's, I wrote these notes to myself:

-- Maria Lukowski has to be a stranger to reader until Agnes discovers signif. of necklace
-- Flashbacks need to hide Maria's identity - also kidnapping scene - must come after necklace - can keep scenes, but need to refer to girls as "the daughters"
-- Maria's shop can't include her full name - maybe "Amber Maria" - look up the Polish for this
-- Flashback of Karol butchering the horse needs to stop just short of kidnapping - need cliffhanger - something like the soldiers saying "What else can we take? / There's nothing here worth anything. / Yes, yes there is."
-- Need more background about what soldiers would have gotten as reward for baby - they wouldn't do it for the cause
-- Need Halina's husband to be an anthropologist or similar (look this up) who wrote book, something like The Aryan Mistake - he needs authority to explain Himmler's agenda to Agnes/ the reader

I have to edit 33 pages at least this week to stay on track to finish this year. I'm going to try and push myself to edit a total of 50.

So on that note, Booksters, I'll see y'all tomorrow...

Other People's Novels: Jeffrey Eugenides

2010-11-19T09:21:00.000-08:00

Eugenides's novel, Middlesex, is about the coming of age of a hermaphrodite. So, for obvious reasons, it took me awhile to pick it up. I figured I wouldn't really relate to the story. When it won the 2003 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction I thought maybe there would be other reasons to read it. Here's one.

The setting is 1922, Smyrna, during the Turkish invasion. The city is burning around him and Karekin is waiting for his father to return home. There's a knock at the door (woe, those knocks at the door). Of course, Karekin expects it to be his father. It's not.

Karekin vaults down the stairs two at a time. At the door he stops, collects himself, and quietly unbolts the door. At first, when he pulls it open, he sees nothing. Then there's a soft hiss, followed by a ripping noise. The noise sounds as though it has nothing to do with him until suddenly a shirt button pops off and clatters against the door. Karekin looks down as all at once his mouth fills with a warm fluid. He feels himself being lifted off his feet, the sensation bringing back to him childhood memories of being whisked into the air by his father, and he says, "Dad, my button," before he is lifted high enough to make out the steel bayonet puncturing his sternum. The fire's reflection leads along the gun barrel, over the sight and hammer, to the soldier's ecstatic face.

Wow, right? Wow.

If I can get a little, ahem, academic here with you, Booksters, there's this 'lever' that fiction writers use in narration called 'psychic distance.' It can be either very far or very close.

Here's a handy example --

Very far: It was the winter of the year 1853. A large man stepped out of a doorway.
Very close: Snow. Under his collar, down inside his shoes, freezing and plugging up his miserable soul.

What makes that scene from Middlesex such a sock in the gut is that Eugenides uses an extremely close psychic distance, and even a slow-mo close psychic distance. That 'life flashing before your eyes' moment when a confrontation with death occurs.

Well, bottom line about this book is: whether you're a hermaphrodite or not, it will sock you in the gut on every page. Well worth reading.

What Inspired The Story

2010-11-18T11:29:00.000-08:00

Good afternoon, Booksters. I don't know about you, but it's 2:30 and I haven't eaten yet.

Here was today's to-do list for this writer.

- Leave another message for the Red Cross about tracing lost family (this would be the 2nd one)
- Unfollow people who don't follow me on Twitter
- Follow people who do follow me on Twitter
- Go find more people to follow on Twitter (http://www.twellow.com/ is a goldmine for this)
- Read some Tweets. Retweet them. Respond to your @ messages. Make Twitter friends.
- Read some blogs. Make blog friends.
- Finish writing "What inspired the story" on this blog (see righthand sidebar)
- Post
- Edit at least 20 pages of "Daughter" (as of today, I'm behind)
- Groceries

As you can see, I'm almost at "Groceries". The Twittering business took me hours. I'm very slow at this. It's supposed to be good for a writer to have a "platform", so says the publishing world. While I'm hunting and pecking out there in the blogosphere, I sometimes feel like the savvy marketer my resume would have you believe I am. Other times I feel like a complete dolt. Like I'm rolling water uphill. Like I'm picking through a haystack looking for amoeba.

The one upside, which is a huge upside, is that when I sit down in the morning to read people's blogs or tweets, I don't feel so utterly lonely. Even if I only have a platform big enough for a pair of ants to tango on, I will have people around who don't make me feel so lonely. That's maybe the best platform there is.

Anyway, all that said, please do jog on over to the righthand sidebar to read "What inspired the story." I thought if visitors to the blog knew more about what was behind the book, then the posts themselves might be a notch more interesting. But that's just my hope, and fortunately, I'm among friends so I can tell you that.

Five Steps to Taking It Seriously

2010-11-17T11:11:00.001-08:00

The first lesson: novel-writing is a business.

Your novel is a product.

Your time writing the novel is work. (Shame on me, I was tempted to put that last word in "quotes".)

The rest of the world is going to roll their eyes at this. Try, try, try to ignore them.

Yes, isn't it frivolous to write a novel? Who does that? Aren't the chances of success close to 0%?

Whenever that thought fleets through my mind, I try to remember all the novelists who came before me. Hemingway. King. Vonnegut. Kerouac. Mitchell. Lee. If they had listened to that same fleeting thought, how much less we would all be for it.

To help you, here are my Five Steps to Taking Your Writing Work Seriously. They basically boil down to five things you should be writing down besides what you're writing.

1/ Learn, and continue to learn and when you're done learning, learn more. Write down what you learn.

2/ Create office hours and when you have them, be working. No personal calls. No personal business. Write down your hours.

3/ Set goals and stick to them. Write them on a chart and evaluate your progress at least weekly.

4/ Write down an author strategy, based on an objective. In other words: "What do I want and how am I going to get there?" Follow your strategy religiously. "I want to be a published children's book writer so these are the three strategies I will use to make it happen - x, y, z."

5/ When you fill out a form and they ask for "Occupation", put "Writer." Not "self-employed", not "N/A", not "None". You are a "Writer." Write it down. Related to this, get yourself business cards that say "Writer" under your name and any of your website or blog addresses. Carry them around and give them to people at workshops, conferences, parties, or visits with friends. I use Vistaprint: http://www.vistaprint.com

Last Night at Novel Class

2010-11-16T10:38:00.000-08:00

Last night, Booksters, I submitted myself to another round of critiquing by my colleagues in the novel class. They read Chapters 5-8 in Part I, still the section with Agnes as a 12-year-old in Polish Chicago. Included in these chapters was a flashback to Agnes's grandparents, Klaus & Myra Schneider, during the war.

They caught me on some good flubs that need attention - some historical accuracy that needed fine-tuning, the lack of genuineness in one or two scenes, a few stray lines of dialogue that don't sound right. But all things I can fix in an hour or two.

After those suggestions, they spent a long time debating the moral questions raised in the early part of the novel. One of those questions is how "incremental" (a word one of them used) evilness can be, how easily evil deeds can begin and grow from their starting point. I didn't say anything while they debated. I just listened. They talked a lot on that theme, a theme I have been trying to tease out of thin air by the way I've put these characters and plot together.

They also talked about my 1940s German character, Klaus, with tones of sympathy. He was a regular guy. Unemployed. Trying to survive. And then joining the army seemed like a good idea. And the rest... the rest had terrible consequences. But they saw him as sympathetic, even while he was making bombs that would destroy people. They saw how hapless it all was, the war, for some people.

You can't imagine (or perhaps you can and have also experienced this) how much of a high it is as a writer to have been trying to find that subtle channel of communication into the reader's inner thoughts, soul, moral center and... to final make it there. To see the inside of my own brain, my own dreams, my ideas, my visions - to see all that make it onto the page and have other people leap to a defense or criticism as if those visions are as real as the chairs we were sitting in last night.

I created a world, and they were finally in it. It was such a high.

Other People's Novels: Edward P. Jones

2010-11-12T09:43:00.000-08:00

"Against all the evidence to the contrary that American fiction has given us over the past quarter-century, 'The Known World' affirms that the novel does matter, that it can still speak to us as nothing else can." - Jonathan Yardley, Washington Post Book World

When a writer sits to write a first novel - maybe an only novel - I don't think it's unusual for one thought to often cross his or her mind. That thought is: it's OK if this isn't brilliant, it's my first try.

The first-time novelist might also say: I will make a lot of rookie mistakes. I will probably be embarrassed about this later. I shouldn't be too hard on myself. This is the novel that will teach me how to write novels, but better ones.

But when I myself think those things about my own little project, I marvel even more about Edward P. Jones. His first novel, The Known World, was the winner of the 2004 Pulitzer Prize, among other accolades. It is a beautiful, masterfully written story about a little known fact of ante-bellum America -- that there were free blacks who owned slaves.

From the standpoint of writing, Jones taught me something profound about structure, about the importance of the writer doing things on purpose, with intent. That the writer is taking the reader on a journey, and the journey can either be insipid or profound, depending on the choices the writer makes.

An example is Jones's opening paragraph and his final one. They are both about Moses, his main character, eating.

In the first paragraph...page 1:
"Moses closed his eyes and bent down and took a pinch of the soil and ate it with no more thought than if it were a spot of cornbread. He worked the dirt around in his mouth and swallowed, leaning his head back and opening his eyes in time to see the strip of sun fade to dark blue and then to nothing."

In the last paragraph...page 388:
"Her meals to Moses would be until the end. Celeste was never to close down her days, even after Moses had died, without thinking aloud at least once to everyone and yet to no one in particular, "I wonder if Moses done ate yet."

I love that Jones chose to take me in a circle. Even though the last paragraph is 388 pages after the first, and I didn't remember the specifics of Moses eating dirt, I ended the book feeling complete. I also felt that shiver of recognition, like deja vu, of things in the present connecting back to things in the past. The book has been called a 'meditation' on certain evils, and the circular structure makes it feel like exactly that.

More impressive to me is that he has managed to write about a controversial subject -one person owning another - in such an elegant way that you don't feel beset upon by any statement he's trying to make about it. He wants you to make up your own mind, and you do, or you try to, and then you realize that some evils are so profound they defy understanding. But you remember Moses, and you feel for him.

The only time Jones seems to share his point of view on things is in the touching dedication of the book, to his mother Jeanette, who he says "could have done much more in a better world."

For an interesting 2003 interview with Jones, and an excerpt of him reading from the novel, visit this link at NPR: http://http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1476600

Total Focus

2010-11-11T12:38:00.000-08:00

It would not be an exaggeration to say that nothing can tear me away from editing this book to completion by year-end.

Example: I found a centipede-looking thing in my shower yesterday while I was in the middle of writing a scene. I sprayed it with Tilex, drowned it into the drain and wrote "clean shower" on my to-do list. I was back writing the scene in less than 30 seconds.

I got up at 6:30 am this morning to start working, with a brief hiatus to take my kids to school. At 2:30, I looked up and couldn't remember what day it was. There's a calendar on my wall next to my desk, and I had to tap my fingers across this week's days and activities to arrive at today by process of elimination.

I also couldn't remember if I had eaten lunch or whether or not I was hungry.

So, yes, Booksters, your novelist is cruising through novel heaven right about now. That otherworldly dream state. The flow. I edited out to page 110 today, well ahead of where I need to be (page 55). I feel everything hanging together better: plot, characters, pacing, voice.

This chunk here is the last bit I wrote/edited today, the end of Part II. This is a flashback, Berlin 1948. Agnes's father, Bernd, is six years old and his parents are being questioned about his adoption by two investigators from the U.N. I like the suspense, but the bit about blonde kids might be pushing the conclusion to an obvious place, so that may yet come out. I'd be happy to know what anybody thinks.

“Sir, I realize your concern. But you have to understand that there are many families in Europe now coming to us about missing children, mostly from outside of Germany. There are actually tens of thousands of them who say their children just vanished, some right out of their beds at night. Some never came home from school. There are no traces. For them, I'm sure you can understand, we have to investigate everything."

"But just ask his orphanage. We told you. He was there without parents, and we took him in."

"We can't, unfortunately. His orphanage was shut the year after you adopted your boy. The women who ran it were put into a work camp outside of Berlin. Most of them were executed. The director wasn't, it seems, but we can't find her now."

"I can't believe this. Why?" Helmuth asked, his face beading with sweat. Ingrid had taken a seat at the table next to him and was clutching the fingers of the hand he had laid on her shoulder.

"We're not sure, but this happened in a number of cases with these kinds of orphanages. And they all had something strange in common."

"What was strange?" Ingrid asked, releasing a stiff breath.

"They took pictures whenever a new orphan was admitted. There are records. We've seen some of them. In all the pictures, the orphans were only blonde and blue-eyed. Every single one of them." The two men looked at Ingrid and Helmuth in silence. Ingrid thought uncomfortably about Bernd's blue eyes and luminous blonde hair. "That's odd, don't you think? Every single one of them?"

Ingrid moved, putting a hand over the chair to pull herself to a stand. She went into the back room not saying anything more to the men standing in her kitchen. Helmuth turned to both of them with a heavy look in his eyes. “Until I see proof of some problem, you can leave and not come back. Do you understand me? I won't have you upsetting my wife. You can't walk into every home in Germany now looking for missing people who are blonde and blue-eyed.”

“Sir, I understand. I know this is upsetting. But it's important that we eventually talk to the boy."

Helmuth shook his head defiantly. "No. Come back with proof. I won't open my door to you again without it."

Helmuth showed the men out. They turned to say something else to him, but he had already swung the door closed in their faces. He stood there behind the door, one hand on the knob and the other on his chest to quiet his heart and slow down his breath. He heard Ingrid and Bernd laughing together in the back bedroom, Ingrid's laughter tinged with the brassy sound of fear.