Peg Herring's Blog, page 23
February 14, 2014
The Mysterious "Want-To-Read" Tag
I'm terrible at a lot of the promotion experts tell me "must" be done to get a book in front of readers. I forget to tweet. I join sites that promise help and then forget to go back and update them. I never check my sales numbers or my rankings.
What I do--what I want to do--is write the most interesting, exciting books I can manage and hope people like them.
Yesterday I read an article about readers and books and getting the two together, and I found out that GoodReads' "want-to-read" tag is very helpful in moving a book into spots where readers will see it.
So?
So, I'm going to do a lot more of that from now on, and I ask that you do the same. If one of my books sounds good to you, click on "want to read". Maybe someday you'll actually get to read it, but if your TBR pile is as high as mine, it might be a while!
What I do--what I want to do--is write the most interesting, exciting books I can manage and hope people like them.
Yesterday I read an article about readers and books and getting the two together, and I found out that GoodReads' "want-to-read" tag is very helpful in moving a book into spots where readers will see it.
So?
So, I'm going to do a lot more of that from now on, and I ask that you do the same. If one of my books sounds good to you, click on "want to read". Maybe someday you'll actually get to read it, but if your TBR pile is as high as mine, it might be a while!
February 7, 2014
Settling Into a Book
Sometimes I pick up a book, read a few pages, and sort of nestle into it. I know it's going to please me, and I know each time I have to put it down, I'll want to come back to it.
Obviously it isn't the same book for everyone. I read THE BARTENDER'S TALE recently and was unmoved. I tried THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS and THE INVENTION OF WINGS and set them aside for later--maybe.
Then I started THE ART FORGER and settled in. It's a book I want to read, not a book someone else says I should read.
Those other books are well written, I won't argue that, but some books speak to me. Some characters become my friends, at least for that brief period while we're adventuring together.
I don't know why, but I love when it happens.
Obviously it isn't the same book for everyone. I read THE BARTENDER'S TALE recently and was unmoved. I tried THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS and THE INVENTION OF WINGS and set them aside for later--maybe.
Then I started THE ART FORGER and settled in. It's a book I want to read, not a book someone else says I should read.
Those other books are well written, I won't argue that, but some books speak to me. Some characters become my friends, at least for that brief period while we're adventuring together.
I don't know why, but I love when it happens.
January 31, 2014
Writing Ruins Reading
How's that for alliteration?
It's also hyperbole, because I don't really think becoming a writer ruined reading for me. What it did do--and author friends and reviewers tell me they feel the same way--is make me more aware of what good writing is. That makes it hard to tolerate bad writing.
It's a little like knowing the rules of grammar. What doesn't bother some people in the slightest, like "Him and me went to the movies," makes others cringe.
My judgment of books has nothing to do with me as a writer, and I'm not putting myself above or below other authors. What I'm saying is that the practice of writing (a lot!) has made me aware of writing that's sloppy or lazy or not very good.
That ruins some of my attempts at reading. No matter how much the NY TIMES tells me I should like a book, I'll put it down after a few chapters if the characters haven't convinced me they're real or the plot is goofy or there hasn't been any real editing.
Being a writer doesn't ruin a book that's got all the elements right, and those books still delight me. Hard-boiled or cozy, literary or genre, if it's well done, I'll like it. And I'll appreciate it, too, which isn't quite the same thing.
It's also hyperbole, because I don't really think becoming a writer ruined reading for me. What it did do--and author friends and reviewers tell me they feel the same way--is make me more aware of what good writing is. That makes it hard to tolerate bad writing.
It's a little like knowing the rules of grammar. What doesn't bother some people in the slightest, like "Him and me went to the movies," makes others cringe.
My judgment of books has nothing to do with me as a writer, and I'm not putting myself above or below other authors. What I'm saying is that the practice of writing (a lot!) has made me aware of writing that's sloppy or lazy or not very good.
That ruins some of my attempts at reading. No matter how much the NY TIMES tells me I should like a book, I'll put it down after a few chapters if the characters haven't convinced me they're real or the plot is goofy or there hasn't been any real editing.
Being a writer doesn't ruin a book that's got all the elements right, and those books still delight me. Hard-boiled or cozy, literary or genre, if it's well done, I'll like it. And I'll appreciate it, too, which isn't quite the same thing.
January 24, 2014
How Much Rope Do You Give an Author?
I read mostly mysteries; my husband likes thrillers. Sometimes we trade, and he recently recommended one of those chase-around-the-world books. I liked it, but I didn't love it.
That got me thinking. We accept certain "givens" when we read, and each genre has its own. I'll list a few, but those who read other types of fiction will probably be able to add more.
In mysteries, we often let the protag have some pretty lucky leaps of logic. There might be thousands of possible suspects at the beginning of the story, but somehow he/she narrows it down, usually relying on "gut."
Amateur sleuths don't act like normal people. They wade in where most of us would let police handle matters. Few of us would knowingly enter into a situation where we might get killed.
In thrillers, the protags can do everything. A guy who's never been in Athens before navigates easily, finding hotels and taxis and communicating with the locals. He often provides a travelogue for his companions in the process: "This is the Parthenon, built in...."
In romances, the main character is usually different from those around her, a changeling. If they're zany, she's wise, and vice versa. Romantic heroines are also amazingly adaptable: whatever happens to them, they deal with it--no counseling, no PTSD, just on to Love.
In westerns, the lines between good and evil are pretty sharply defined. You're either with us or agin us, and heaven help you if the latter is the case.
I guess what I'm saying is that readers accept certain conventions in the genres they choose, and what we read might say a little about how we like to look at life. Each genre has its sub-genres, of course, which allows variation in themes.
As a reader, I accept the mystery premise that someone pretty normal is going to go outside his/her comfort zone to make a wrong right. As a thriller reader, my husband likes his world-protectors to be larger than life supermen for whom failure isn't an option.
We're just like readers everywhere, giving rope to the authors of the types of stories we enjoy. Lead us along, and we'll follow.
That got me thinking. We accept certain "givens" when we read, and each genre has its own. I'll list a few, but those who read other types of fiction will probably be able to add more.
In mysteries, we often let the protag have some pretty lucky leaps of logic. There might be thousands of possible suspects at the beginning of the story, but somehow he/she narrows it down, usually relying on "gut."
Amateur sleuths don't act like normal people. They wade in where most of us would let police handle matters. Few of us would knowingly enter into a situation where we might get killed.
In thrillers, the protags can do everything. A guy who's never been in Athens before navigates easily, finding hotels and taxis and communicating with the locals. He often provides a travelogue for his companions in the process: "This is the Parthenon, built in...."
In romances, the main character is usually different from those around her, a changeling. If they're zany, she's wise, and vice versa. Romantic heroines are also amazingly adaptable: whatever happens to them, they deal with it--no counseling, no PTSD, just on to Love.
In westerns, the lines between good and evil are pretty sharply defined. You're either with us or agin us, and heaven help you if the latter is the case.
I guess what I'm saying is that readers accept certain conventions in the genres they choose, and what we read might say a little about how we like to look at life. Each genre has its sub-genres, of course, which allows variation in themes.
As a reader, I accept the mystery premise that someone pretty normal is going to go outside his/her comfort zone to make a wrong right. As a thriller reader, my husband likes his world-protectors to be larger than life supermen for whom failure isn't an option.
We're just like readers everywhere, giving rope to the authors of the types of stories we enjoy. Lead us along, and we'll follow.
January 17, 2014
Retreating to Write
It's been 3 months since I had my last "author fix" at Magna Cum Murder.
Writers (especially me) need to hear from other writers, be with other writers, talk to other writers. Honestly, our loved ones don't get it, no matter how supportive they are.
However, I live in a remote area of northern Michigan, where one doesn't just pick up the phone and find others of her species. We have to plan times when we can meet, and that isn't easy. Snow, ice, and wind make travel iffy from November to March in these parts, so we took a stab and hoped, picking the time we'd probably all be suffering from cabin fever, and planned a writers' retreat.
It looks like the stars are going to align and allow us our three days of communing. By Monday I'll be ready to take on the publishing world again, even if no one else notices!
Writers (especially me) need to hear from other writers, be with other writers, talk to other writers. Honestly, our loved ones don't get it, no matter how supportive they are.
However, I live in a remote area of northern Michigan, where one doesn't just pick up the phone and find others of her species. We have to plan times when we can meet, and that isn't easy. Snow, ice, and wind make travel iffy from November to March in these parts, so we took a stab and hoped, picking the time we'd probably all be suffering from cabin fever, and planned a writers' retreat.
It looks like the stars are going to align and allow us our three days of communing. By Monday I'll be ready to take on the publishing world again, even if no one else notices!
December 2, 2013
Christmas=Cruel to be Kind
December is a month of lies and deceit. Here are some personal experiences to prove my point.
*My mother once wrapped a .22 rifle in a guitar box so my brother would think he was getting a guitar for Christmas.
*My daughter confessed to me as an adult that by twelve she was an expert at finding the presents I'd wrapped and hidden, opening them to see what she was getting, and returning them to their hiding place, carefully rewrapped.
*My husband, abetted by my father, let my son spend most of Christmas day thinking he'd seen all his presents, saving the snowmobile for when we got to Gram and Grandpa's house for Christmas dinner.
*My mother's annual lie was that Christmas was going to be "smaller this year." (We never fell for that one; my mother loved Christmas and could not keep herself from buying just one more little gift...for everyone.)
Watching Facebook posts and talking with friends, I sense joy and satisfaction already in the gift-buying public. Yes, Christmas is very commercialized. No, we don't need all that stuff. Really, it should be about family and friends getting together.
But isn't it fun when someone you love is completely surprised and thrilled by all the plotting you did to keep that gift a mystery?
By the way, if it's a mystery reader you're buying for, A Lethal Time and Place is on Kindle Countdown this week (Dec. 3-10), starting at 99 cents.
*My mother once wrapped a .22 rifle in a guitar box so my brother would think he was getting a guitar for Christmas.
*My daughter confessed to me as an adult that by twelve she was an expert at finding the presents I'd wrapped and hidden, opening them to see what she was getting, and returning them to their hiding place, carefully rewrapped.
*My husband, abetted by my father, let my son spend most of Christmas day thinking he'd seen all his presents, saving the snowmobile for when we got to Gram and Grandpa's house for Christmas dinner.
*My mother's annual lie was that Christmas was going to be "smaller this year." (We never fell for that one; my mother loved Christmas and could not keep herself from buying just one more little gift...for everyone.)
Watching Facebook posts and talking with friends, I sense joy and satisfaction already in the gift-buying public. Yes, Christmas is very commercialized. No, we don't need all that stuff. Really, it should be about family and friends getting together.
But isn't it fun when someone you love is completely surprised and thrilled by all the plotting you did to keep that gift a mystery?
By the way, if it's a mystery reader you're buying for, A Lethal Time and Place is on Kindle Countdown this week (Dec. 3-10), starting at 99 cents.
November 18, 2013
Jake, the Orphan
"Orphan" is a term not used much anymore in conversation, though in typical American style we've made it into a verb. Children are "orphaned" by a storm or a car accident.
Losing our parents cuts us loose from our first and strongest anchor in the world. That can be threatening, and it's what has happened to Jake at the beginning of my new book A Lethal Time and Place.
Here's Jake's story.
My mother wasn't the best of providers, and my dad abandoned us before I was born. When Mom got sick I took care of her, but when she died, I refused to become a ward of the state. Taking the money from the last welfare check and a few items of clothing, I headed to the streets of Chicago. Winter was coming, but I had a scheme. My mom had a life insurance policy with me as beneficiary. If it appeared I had a stable home with a responsible guardian, I could collect it. I figured I'd find someone on the street to pose as a relative, help me collect the money, and accept a few bucks as payment. I just needed to find the right person.
I'm only fourteen, but I knew I had to choose carefully. The first time I saw Memnet, I realized she was perfect. We looked enough alike to be sisters.
The downside was that Memnet wanted nothing to do with strangers. She rejected every attempt I made to explain my scheme, and she even started running away every time she saw me.
But Fate had something in store for the two of us. When we witnessed a murder (together with Memnet's companions Leo, Libby, and Roy) our lives got tangled. Now I'm a member of their mysterious little group. The more I learn about them, the more intriguing they are.
Losing our parents cuts us loose from our first and strongest anchor in the world. That can be threatening, and it's what has happened to Jake at the beginning of my new book A Lethal Time and Place.
Here's Jake's story.
My mother wasn't the best of providers, and my dad abandoned us before I was born. When Mom got sick I took care of her, but when she died, I refused to become a ward of the state. Taking the money from the last welfare check and a few items of clothing, I headed to the streets of Chicago. Winter was coming, but I had a scheme. My mom had a life insurance policy with me as beneficiary. If it appeared I had a stable home with a responsible guardian, I could collect it. I figured I'd find someone on the street to pose as a relative, help me collect the money, and accept a few bucks as payment. I just needed to find the right person.
I'm only fourteen, but I knew I had to choose carefully. The first time I saw Memnet, I realized she was perfect. We looked enough alike to be sisters.
The downside was that Memnet wanted nothing to do with strangers. She rejected every attempt I made to explain my scheme, and she even started running away every time she saw me.
But Fate had something in store for the two of us. When we witnessed a murder (together with Memnet's companions Leo, Libby, and Roy) our lives got tangled. Now I'm a member of their mysterious little group. The more I learn about them, the more intriguing they are.
November 11, 2013
Guesting Today
I'm a guest at Mustard Seed Marketing Group today, so I'll just connect to them. Please stop by and leave a comment!
http://www.mustardseedmarketinggroup....
http://www.mustardseedmarketinggroup....
October 15, 2013
A Lethal Time and Place
My next book is making its way through the various channels, a confusing and stressful process for me. I get emails from the production people, asking if I'm SURE the manuscript is exactly as I want it. I get checklists to fill out, webpages I have to go to and upload this or that, and requests for things I have only a vague understanding of. (What is metadata, anyway?) Luckily, they're nice people who tolerate my questions, my delays while I think through what it is they want, and my sometimes clueless questions.
This book is a mystery, of course. (FYI: the next Loser and Dead Detective books are somewhere in Publishing Space, without specific dates; the fourth Simon & Elizabeth is written, and I'll be submitting it to my publisher soon.) A Lethal Time and Place is a stand-alone, so different that it's hard to describe. The setting is Chicago in the 1960s, but one of my beta readers, a twenty-something, claims that not being alive at the time in no way dimmed her enjoyment of the book. I like my mysteries a little different from the everyday, with intriguing characters and unexpected events. This one certainly follows that path.
In order to give my readers a taste, I thought I'd do a series of blogs, each presenting one of the characters. So without further ado, here's Leo!
Older man, dignified-looking, with longish gray hair and strong hands. He speaks with an Italian accent.
"I didn't come here voluntarily. Though I'm used to city life, this city is not like the ones in Europe, and for some time I found that hard to accept. Over time, though, I've come to like Chicago. I spend my days walking its streets or reading in one of the libraries.
"Of course the four of us need to eat, so I do my share, seeking out churches and missions where meals are provided and taking whatever I can hide in my coat pockets home with me: rolls, whole pieces of chicken, and a baked potato or two. Occasionally I steal food from stores around the Loop, but that always leaves me feeling unhappy. One of my companions is much better at it than I and less bothered by the moral questions, so we usually depend on him.
"We can hardly say we're content, living unnoticed in the basement of an old museum, but we make do. At least we did until the series of events you'll be reading about changed everything. A young girl, a deadly murder, and a nosy museum curator changed everything. Is it for the better or worse? We can't say. We only know that now we must run for our lives."
This book is a mystery, of course. (FYI: the next Loser and Dead Detective books are somewhere in Publishing Space, without specific dates; the fourth Simon & Elizabeth is written, and I'll be submitting it to my publisher soon.) A Lethal Time and Place is a stand-alone, so different that it's hard to describe. The setting is Chicago in the 1960s, but one of my beta readers, a twenty-something, claims that not being alive at the time in no way dimmed her enjoyment of the book. I like my mysteries a little different from the everyday, with intriguing characters and unexpected events. This one certainly follows that path.
In order to give my readers a taste, I thought I'd do a series of blogs, each presenting one of the characters. So without further ado, here's Leo!
Older man, dignified-looking, with longish gray hair and strong hands. He speaks with an Italian accent.
"I didn't come here voluntarily. Though I'm used to city life, this city is not like the ones in Europe, and for some time I found that hard to accept. Over time, though, I've come to like Chicago. I spend my days walking its streets or reading in one of the libraries.
"Of course the four of us need to eat, so I do my share, seeking out churches and missions where meals are provided and taking whatever I can hide in my coat pockets home with me: rolls, whole pieces of chicken, and a baked potato or two. Occasionally I steal food from stores around the Loop, but that always leaves me feeling unhappy. One of my companions is much better at it than I and less bothered by the moral questions, so we usually depend on him.
"We can hardly say we're content, living unnoticed in the basement of an old museum, but we make do. At least we did until the series of events you'll be reading about changed everything. A young girl, a deadly murder, and a nosy museum curator changed everything. Is it for the better or worse? We can't say. We only know that now we must run for our lives."
March 11, 2013
The Irony of Dying
A columnist in the Sunday newspaper yesterday wrote about aging, and one of his comments struck me as odd. He said getting older made him think about doing more things to make others say nice things about him after he's dead.
Hmmm. Why do we care?
Being dead means you can no longer hear what's said by the living, so why do we spend so much time thinking about how we'll be remembered? Some people plan their funerals like they're going to be there. Others leave vast amounts of money to some organization that will put their names on a building, a plaque, or a scholarship. I guess it boils down to one thing: we want to be remembered.
Some apparently don't care if it's for something awful, like those who take a bunch of school children or a plane full of innocent citizens with them. Most of us would like to be remembered for good things. I can't help but notice that when a person dies, people say what a "great" person he or she was. (Anyone in the military when he dies has automatically become a "hero" to the news media, but that's another topic.)
The truth is, we're mostly average people, loved by one or ten or a hundred who will miss us when we're gone and say nice things about us at our funerals. It doesn't change a thing, but I guess it's nice to know.
Hmmm. Why do we care?
Being dead means you can no longer hear what's said by the living, so why do we spend so much time thinking about how we'll be remembered? Some people plan their funerals like they're going to be there. Others leave vast amounts of money to some organization that will put their names on a building, a plaque, or a scholarship. I guess it boils down to one thing: we want to be remembered.
Some apparently don't care if it's for something awful, like those who take a bunch of school children or a plane full of innocent citizens with them. Most of us would like to be remembered for good things. I can't help but notice that when a person dies, people say what a "great" person he or she was. (Anyone in the military when he dies has automatically become a "hero" to the news media, but that's another topic.)
The truth is, we're mostly average people, loved by one or ten or a hundred who will miss us when we're gone and say nice things about us at our funerals. It doesn't change a thing, but I guess it's nice to know.
