Peg Herring's Blog, page 31
April 18, 2011
Two Reasons People Write Mystery Novels
#1-To show the world as they view it
#2-To show the world as they wish it
Yeah, I know, there is money and fame and the dream of winning some massive prize for the Great American Novel. But mostly, it is a desire to do one of the above.
I'm reading (as usual) several books at a time, and they brought me to this conclusion. I see in one author a desire to show the reader what life is like for a person with a certain problem: how he comes to face it, how he feels about himself, how he fares in his journey to wellness. It's obvious from the story that the author either went through this journey or is close to someone who did. The scenario is real-world. Down-to-earth.
My second current is the fun kind of mystery, a "what if" scenario that takes the reader along with ever-so-clever detectives from an earlier era who work perfectly in tandem. As I read, I slip into believing what the author wants me to believe, that treads and threads and clever heads will solve the crime. Don't we all wish for a partner who combines love for us with genius and the ability to read our minds?
The third book presents a tough-guy private eye who inhabits a world I cannot imagine, a world where knives flick into view and slice someone's throat before the victim knows what's happening. While I can read such books from time to time and enjoy them, it's not the way I see the world, even if in some cases, it's true. Readers of this sort of book get a peek at a world they can only imagine, and the writer's job is tough, because even the protagonist is pretty scary, the sort most readers would not invite to tea.
My point is that an author writes to show his world view, either wishful or truthful, according to his own experiences. Some become famous, usually because they do it so well. And how does one do it well? I suppose by making their own world view available to us and making us believe, at least for the duration of the book, that that is how it was at a certain place and at some point in time.
#2-To show the world as they wish it
Yeah, I know, there is money and fame and the dream of winning some massive prize for the Great American Novel. But mostly, it is a desire to do one of the above.
I'm reading (as usual) several books at a time, and they brought me to this conclusion. I see in one author a desire to show the reader what life is like for a person with a certain problem: how he comes to face it, how he feels about himself, how he fares in his journey to wellness. It's obvious from the story that the author either went through this journey or is close to someone who did. The scenario is real-world. Down-to-earth.
My second current is the fun kind of mystery, a "what if" scenario that takes the reader along with ever-so-clever detectives from an earlier era who work perfectly in tandem. As I read, I slip into believing what the author wants me to believe, that treads and threads and clever heads will solve the crime. Don't we all wish for a partner who combines love for us with genius and the ability to read our minds?
The third book presents a tough-guy private eye who inhabits a world I cannot imagine, a world where knives flick into view and slice someone's throat before the victim knows what's happening. While I can read such books from time to time and enjoy them, it's not the way I see the world, even if in some cases, it's true. Readers of this sort of book get a peek at a world they can only imagine, and the writer's job is tough, because even the protagonist is pretty scary, the sort most readers would not invite to tea.
My point is that an author writes to show his world view, either wishful or truthful, according to his own experiences. Some become famous, usually because they do it so well. And how does one do it well? I suppose by making their own world view available to us and making us believe, at least for the duration of the book, that that is how it was at a certain place and at some point in time.
April 11, 2011
The Final Decision
Who decided it was a great idea for restaurant managers to wander the tables, asking if the meal is good?
I'm always either in the middle of a bite or my companion is in the middle of a story. It's an interruption. It's unnecessary. And then the waiter comes by and asks the same thing in about twenty seconds. (And after all, that's the person you've bonded with, having been told their name and their intentions: "Hi, I'm Derek, and I'll be taking care of you today." Good, Derek. I need help with some plot knots, someone to carry this bag of books around, and possibly some pyschiatric counseling.)
And who decided that stores need my phone number? They aren't going to call me up, at least they'd better not. But try saying, ever so politely, "I'd rather not share that." Sales clerks act as if you'd slapped them with an iron gauntlet.
I recall a relative who worked for a furniture store being disgusted with "experts" who came in to tell them what customers did and did not want in a sales clerk. Some of it was so ridiculous as to be offensive, yet the bosses made the employees act in accordance with it. After all, someone studied something to come to that conclusion (and they had paid for the advice), so people were bound to be impressed.
I suppose it's none of my business what business chooses to do. Those who can see through the silliness either smile or grimace in disgust. We encounter "expert decisions" that are asinine every single day, to the point where we have to decide which ones we will fight and which we'll just accept. In the restaurant, for example, I smile and tell the manager things are fine. I've even given up arguing with Fashion Bug about the phone number.
I'm glad, however, that I make the decisions in my books. No expert tells me what the reader will like. I find what I like, and then I publish it, hoping someone else will, too. You won't find me stopping by as a reader is engrossed in my book, asking, "So how is everything today?"
I'm always either in the middle of a bite or my companion is in the middle of a story. It's an interruption. It's unnecessary. And then the waiter comes by and asks the same thing in about twenty seconds. (And after all, that's the person you've bonded with, having been told their name and their intentions: "Hi, I'm Derek, and I'll be taking care of you today." Good, Derek. I need help with some plot knots, someone to carry this bag of books around, and possibly some pyschiatric counseling.)
And who decided that stores need my phone number? They aren't going to call me up, at least they'd better not. But try saying, ever so politely, "I'd rather not share that." Sales clerks act as if you'd slapped them with an iron gauntlet.
I recall a relative who worked for a furniture store being disgusted with "experts" who came in to tell them what customers did and did not want in a sales clerk. Some of it was so ridiculous as to be offensive, yet the bosses made the employees act in accordance with it. After all, someone studied something to come to that conclusion (and they had paid for the advice), so people were bound to be impressed.
I suppose it's none of my business what business chooses to do. Those who can see through the silliness either smile or grimace in disgust. We encounter "expert decisions" that are asinine every single day, to the point where we have to decide which ones we will fight and which we'll just accept. In the restaurant, for example, I smile and tell the manager things are fine. I've even given up arguing with Fashion Bug about the phone number.
I'm glad, however, that I make the decisions in my books. No expert tells me what the reader will like. I find what I like, and then I publish it, hoping someone else will, too. You won't find me stopping by as a reader is engrossed in my book, asking, "So how is everything today?"
April 4, 2011
When They Like You, Critics Matter
I've certainly done my share of carping over authors' failings, both live and online. I am impatient with characters who act in ways real people never would, with plots that don't make complete sense at the end, and especially with killers who come out of nowhere in the last chapter. However, I don't pretend to be a critic. Like so many other people, I only know--and only want to talk about--what I like.
I've heard writers and readers say that critics don't matter. "I never choose a book based on what the
critics say", or, "If people buy my book, who cares if the critics pan it?"
That all might be true, but when a critic says a book is wonderful, any author HAS to be thrilled. I'm a terrible chicken about my own reviews, but my publisher sent me one on Friday with the note, "Tell everyone."
Okay, that sounded pretty good. Still, I'd only read one sentence of the review she used as a teaser on the website, and I was reluctant to read more. I'm the type that finds that one even slightly critical part of the whole review and focuses on it. I'd promised myself I wasn't going to read any reviews, simply to protect myself from shifting my writing to what someone else said I should do rather than what I do.
A friend read the whole thing and said, "Go read it, Peg", so I did. It was wonderful. It was enough to convince me for all of five minutes that I really can write.
And then I started thinking about Book #2: How am I ever going to live up to that critic's expectations a second time?
It's a great feeling, getting a good review. But then you have to remind yourself, what matters in the next book is what you write, not what someone might say about it.
Read the review of THE DEAD DETECTIVE AGENCY at http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/revie...
I've heard writers and readers say that critics don't matter. "I never choose a book based on what the
critics say", or, "If people buy my book, who cares if the critics pan it?"
That all might be true, but when a critic says a book is wonderful, any author HAS to be thrilled. I'm a terrible chicken about my own reviews, but my publisher sent me one on Friday with the note, "Tell everyone."
Okay, that sounded pretty good. Still, I'd only read one sentence of the review she used as a teaser on the website, and I was reluctant to read more. I'm the type that finds that one even slightly critical part of the whole review and focuses on it. I'd promised myself I wasn't going to read any reviews, simply to protect myself from shifting my writing to what someone else said I should do rather than what I do.
A friend read the whole thing and said, "Go read it, Peg", so I did. It was wonderful. It was enough to convince me for all of five minutes that I really can write.
And then I started thinking about Book #2: How am I ever going to live up to that critic's expectations a second time?
It's a great feeling, getting a good review. But then you have to remind yourself, what matters in the next book is what you write, not what someone might say about it.
Read the review of THE DEAD DETECTIVE AGENCY at http://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/revie...
March 28, 2011
Reading Something Else
Several days a week, I read to someone who can no longer read for herself. Like most tasks that serve others, my reading to her serves me as much as it helps her. It's not just the good feeling I get from helping to brighten her day. I'm getting smarter.
As readers, we sometimes get stuck in a rut. I used to read everything, from biography to philosophy to classics to P.I. novels. In the last few years, I had pretty much dropped everything but mystery, the type of books I most enjoy. I'm not sure why, but I think it had to do with ease: I knew what I was getting (vicarious excitement), I knew I would like where it ended up (some sort of justice) and I knew my part in things (add up the clues and make a guess at the ending).
Now, my read-aloud books are chosen to suit my listener's taste, and she is interested in quantum physics, brain research, and various branches of philosophy. And do you know what? It's fascinating stuff!
We finished THE WATCHMAN'S RATTLE last week, which we both enjoyed. In fact, I found I could hardly wait to get back to reading it. The book we're reading now on brain research and OCD (the title escapes me), has interesting implications for so-called "normal" people, and explains a lot about everyday human to human encounters.
It's an unexpected benefit: a project I took up to allevitate someone else's boredom has banished mine. I realize that by reading only one type of book, I had almost stopped challenging my intellect. (And brain research tells us THAT is the way to early dementia.)
Not that mysteries aren't fun, and even challenging in many ways. Not that I will EVER stop reading them. (I will certainly continue writing them, since there's no way I could ever write on string theory or the function of the cerebral frontal cortex.) But I have been reminded, by reading what someone else likes, that variety of reading experience is a great way to think about a larger world, to challenge my mind, and to perhaps spur my own writing into new, more exciting areas.
As readers, we sometimes get stuck in a rut. I used to read everything, from biography to philosophy to classics to P.I. novels. In the last few years, I had pretty much dropped everything but mystery, the type of books I most enjoy. I'm not sure why, but I think it had to do with ease: I knew what I was getting (vicarious excitement), I knew I would like where it ended up (some sort of justice) and I knew my part in things (add up the clues and make a guess at the ending).
Now, my read-aloud books are chosen to suit my listener's taste, and she is interested in quantum physics, brain research, and various branches of philosophy. And do you know what? It's fascinating stuff!
We finished THE WATCHMAN'S RATTLE last week, which we both enjoyed. In fact, I found I could hardly wait to get back to reading it. The book we're reading now on brain research and OCD (the title escapes me), has interesting implications for so-called "normal" people, and explains a lot about everyday human to human encounters.
It's an unexpected benefit: a project I took up to allevitate someone else's boredom has banished mine. I realize that by reading only one type of book, I had almost stopped challenging my intellect. (And brain research tells us THAT is the way to early dementia.)
Not that mysteries aren't fun, and even challenging in many ways. Not that I will EVER stop reading them. (I will certainly continue writing them, since there's no way I could ever write on string theory or the function of the cerebral frontal cortex.) But I have been reminded, by reading what someone else likes, that variety of reading experience is a great way to think about a larger world, to challenge my mind, and to perhaps spur my own writing into new, more exciting areas.
March 24, 2011
Guest Blogger Chris Redding
Guest Blogger Chris Redding
Today my guest is Chris Redding, author of INCENDIARY. Thanks for giving us a peek at your book, Chris! It sounds hot! (Oh, I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist!)
Chelsea James, captain of her local first aid squad, is trying to keep the organization afloat, but someone is sabotaging her. The squad is her father’s legacy and she feels responsible to keep it going.
Jake Sweeney, back in town after a decade, is investigating the arsons he was accused of long ago. When they start again Chelsea and Jake must join forces to defeat their mutual enemy.
Jake would like to rekindle what they had before he left town, but his departure left Chelsea hurt and bewildered. To begin again, she must learn to trust him.
Her life could depend on it.
Here's an excerpt: The electricity of an impending storm raised the hair on Chelsea James’ arms. She stood, barefoot, on her wide front porch, watching the wind almost blowing the trees back and forth. And through it all, her dead sister’s voice played in her mind. ‘It’s like nature has to violently clean up,’ Morgan used to say when they stood in this very spot. They’d both loved storms then.
The power of nature impressed Chelsea while Morgan concentrated on the aftermath. Odd that Morgan never thought of the aftermath of her own actions.
‘How so?’ Chelsea would ask her older-by-a-few-minutes sister.
Morgan’s eyes would be wide. ‘Because a storm gives the trees a haircut, gets rid of the ones that are weak. And on top of that, the rain helps the ones that do survive,’ Morgan had answered.
Chelsea nodded.
But this storm didn’t bring with it the same renewal. Somewhere deep in Chelsea, she knew this storm was different. This storm could bring destruction.
Or worse, this storm might not bring the wanted rain for those trees that survived.
Chelsea sighed. Right now she missed her sister more than anything.
Then her firehouse pager went off. “Unit 37, you have a fully involved structure fire on Briar Lane.”
Today my guest is Chris Redding, author of INCENDIARY. Thanks for giving us a peek at your book, Chris! It sounds hot! (Oh, I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist!)
Chelsea James, captain of her local first aid squad, is trying to keep the organization afloat, but someone is sabotaging her. The squad is her father’s legacy and she feels responsible to keep it going.
Jake Sweeney, back in town after a decade, is investigating the arsons he was accused of long ago. When they start again Chelsea and Jake must join forces to defeat their mutual enemy.
Jake would like to rekindle what they had before he left town, but his departure left Chelsea hurt and bewildered. To begin again, she must learn to trust him.
Her life could depend on it.
Here's an excerpt: The electricity of an impending storm raised the hair on Chelsea James’ arms. She stood, barefoot, on her wide front porch, watching the wind almost blowing the trees back and forth. And through it all, her dead sister’s voice played in her mind. ‘It’s like nature has to violently clean up,’ Morgan used to say when they stood in this very spot. They’d both loved storms then.
The power of nature impressed Chelsea while Morgan concentrated on the aftermath. Odd that Morgan never thought of the aftermath of her own actions.
‘How so?’ Chelsea would ask her older-by-a-few-minutes sister.
Morgan’s eyes would be wide. ‘Because a storm gives the trees a haircut, gets rid of the ones that are weak. And on top of that, the rain helps the ones that do survive,’ Morgan had answered.
Chelsea nodded.
But this storm didn’t bring with it the same renewal. Somewhere deep in Chelsea, she knew this storm was different. This storm could bring destruction.
Or worse, this storm might not bring the wanted rain for those trees that survived.
Chelsea sighed. Right now she missed her sister more than anything.
Then her firehouse pager went off. “Unit 37, you have a fully involved structure fire on Briar Lane.”
March 21, 2011
Writing Like a Monk
Fellow author Laura Alden and I hosted a retreat for writers last weekend. We took over a small inn in northern Lower Michigan. We sent each writer who arrived to a quiet place for hours at a time with the demand that they "Just write!"
Everyone who attended was pleased with the amount of work accomplished. It's amazing what a person can get done when no phone rings, no laundry buzzer sounds, no spouse pounds in the basement, and no kids interrupt to ask what's for dinner.
Another advantage was the ambiance. I think we each felt encouraged by the sight of the others working away: some editing with paper and pen, some typing away on laptops, and some sketching an outline. (I even sketched the murder scene for my next book, although the way I draw, it looks a lot like a Rorschach ink blot.) If the group was tempted to linger too long over lunch or breakfast, one determined soul would rise and say, "I'm going to get some work done," and soon all of us would be back on task.
Of course there was that precious face time with other authors. The discussions included books we like, books we don't like, publishing, books, agents, readers, books, fans (crazy and otherwise), working conditions and books. There were other topics at some points, but put a bunch of writers together, and it's mostly going to be about books.
Some think it's unnecessary to pay money to find a place to write. "You can write at home," they say. Yes, I can. In fact, I do. But once in a while it's great to play Thoreau and remove myself from the world. I guess I would say, "I went to the inn because I wanted to write deliberately."
Everyone who attended was pleased with the amount of work accomplished. It's amazing what a person can get done when no phone rings, no laundry buzzer sounds, no spouse pounds in the basement, and no kids interrupt to ask what's for dinner.
Another advantage was the ambiance. I think we each felt encouraged by the sight of the others working away: some editing with paper and pen, some typing away on laptops, and some sketching an outline. (I even sketched the murder scene for my next book, although the way I draw, it looks a lot like a Rorschach ink blot.) If the group was tempted to linger too long over lunch or breakfast, one determined soul would rise and say, "I'm going to get some work done," and soon all of us would be back on task.
Of course there was that precious face time with other authors. The discussions included books we like, books we don't like, publishing, books, agents, readers, books, fans (crazy and otherwise), working conditions and books. There were other topics at some points, but put a bunch of writers together, and it's mostly going to be about books.
Some think it's unnecessary to pay money to find a place to write. "You can write at home," they say. Yes, I can. In fact, I do. But once in a while it's great to play Thoreau and remove myself from the world. I guess I would say, "I went to the inn because I wanted to write deliberately."
March 14, 2011
What Novel Can Compete with "Reality"?
Mystery writers get together, and they talk. They discuss how hard it is to keep their books "real": correct police procedures, well-drawn protagonists, and non-stereotypical antagonists. We sweat, toil, and reread a thousand times to be sure the mystery makes sense, the ending adds up, and the world is set right at the end.
Then comes reality. People who should get no attention at all are splashed all over the media as if the lives they are leading make sense. I won't say the names (because the whole process makes me sick), but you can name five "celebrities" without even trying who are fawned upon by press and fans for their disgusting behavior. Come on! If you saw certain Hollywood/sports/rich-kid types in a downtown alley, doing what they do, (taking drugs, flashing their privates, ranting incoherently, etc.) you'd hurry away with a shiver. Yet when such things are done in a mansion, by people with more money than brains, too many Americans think it's okay, even entertaining. Oh, they laugh and say, "I just like to see what he/she/they will do next." They don't seem to realize that by providing an audience, they're encouraging, even paying for, bad behavior. If they read it in a mystery, they would think, "People would never go to a concert hall and pay to see a drug-crazed person rant on stage for an hour."
Then there's the question of what is real. Current TV shows depict "reality" in such bizarre ways that no one except a kindergartener should buy it. Maybe it's my years as a drama director, but the staging in those shows seems so obvious to me that I can't get past it. Still, we haven't caught up to the Romans yet, paying for the chance to see men die. Score a half point for us.
Then there's politics, where no one even knows what real is anymore. What we know is that telling the truth in the political arena is the kiss of death. It's all about spin. Given a little time, the public forgets what their opinion was, anyway. Leaders of other nations are our enemies, then our friends, then our enemies again. A pol who for years acted with callous disregard for the good of the nation writes a memoir, making himself look heroic. And one who intends to run for President in the next election claims he committed adultery because he cares about America, even though at the time he was harshly critical of the President's sexual behavior.
Could we ever get away with that one in a novel? I wouldn't even try. Reality is way less real than fiction. In my books at least, the good guys win in the end, and the egotistical, immoral pigs get what they deserve. I guess that's why writers like me like their reality better than the "real" thing.
Then comes reality. People who should get no attention at all are splashed all over the media as if the lives they are leading make sense. I won't say the names (because the whole process makes me sick), but you can name five "celebrities" without even trying who are fawned upon by press and fans for their disgusting behavior. Come on! If you saw certain Hollywood/sports/rich-kid types in a downtown alley, doing what they do, (taking drugs, flashing their privates, ranting incoherently, etc.) you'd hurry away with a shiver. Yet when such things are done in a mansion, by people with more money than brains, too many Americans think it's okay, even entertaining. Oh, they laugh and say, "I just like to see what he/she/they will do next." They don't seem to realize that by providing an audience, they're encouraging, even paying for, bad behavior. If they read it in a mystery, they would think, "People would never go to a concert hall and pay to see a drug-crazed person rant on stage for an hour."
Then there's the question of what is real. Current TV shows depict "reality" in such bizarre ways that no one except a kindergartener should buy it. Maybe it's my years as a drama director, but the staging in those shows seems so obvious to me that I can't get past it. Still, we haven't caught up to the Romans yet, paying for the chance to see men die. Score a half point for us.
Then there's politics, where no one even knows what real is anymore. What we know is that telling the truth in the political arena is the kiss of death. It's all about spin. Given a little time, the public forgets what their opinion was, anyway. Leaders of other nations are our enemies, then our friends, then our enemies again. A pol who for years acted with callous disregard for the good of the nation writes a memoir, making himself look heroic. And one who intends to run for President in the next election claims he committed adultery because he cares about America, even though at the time he was harshly critical of the President's sexual behavior.
Could we ever get away with that one in a novel? I wouldn't even try. Reality is way less real than fiction. In my books at least, the good guys win in the end, and the egotistical, immoral pigs get what they deserve. I guess that's why writers like me like their reality better than the "real" thing.
March 7, 2011
Guest Blogger Lois Winston
Today I welcome Lois Winston, author of the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries. I've certainly HURT myself with a glue gun, but "deadly"? That's her title, and here's her story.
THE FINE ARE OF EAVESDROPPING
By Lois Winston
Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun, my latest book and the first book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries series, came out the beginning of January. Since its release, I’ve had many people ask me how I came up with the characters and plot for the book. Death by glue gun is certainly not an everyday occurrence, even within the world of amateur sleuth mysteries. Having lost count of all the times I’ve burned myself with a glue gun, the idea didn’t seem all that far-fetched to me. However, the questions got me thinking about the various ways I’ve come up with ideas for my books, and I thought I’d share one of them with you today.
Have you ever thought about how much time you spend waiting? Every day. We stand in line at the supermarket, the post office or motor vehicle, waiting to be waited on. We while away countless hours in doctor and dentist waiting rooms, waiting for someone to jab something cold and uncomfortable into our nether regions or perform root canal. And then we sit or lie there waiting for the procedure du jour to end. We freeze our butts off in the bleachers while our kids kick around a soccer ball or toss a football. We hang around the multiplex lobby, waiting for the previous movie to let out, then hunker down in our seats and wait some more for the next feature to begin. We sit like zombies every morning and evening as the train or bus carries us to and from work. We stand around waiting to be seated in restaurants, then wait for the waiter to take our order and bring our food.
I’ve put all that waiting to good use by eavesdropping. Who among us doesn’t love to eavesdrop? Don’t deny it. We all do it. Forget baseball. Eavesdropping is the national pastime. Since the onset of cell phones, we can eavesdrop with abandon. Try going anywhere without hearing someone’s personal phone conversation. You can’t. Whether you’re in a restaurant, on a train, in a hotel lobby, walking down the street, on line at the supermarket, or even in a public restroom, I guarantee there will be somebody nearby carrying on a highly personal phone conversation in a voice loud enough for everyone within a block’s radius to hear. There’s something about cell phones that makes people raise their voices. Conversations that would normally be held in hushed whispers are broadcast wirelessly like sports announcers booming play-by-play.
Over the last few years I have been privy to the most private details of total strangers, thanks to Verizon, Sprint, T-Mobile, and AT&T. All those conversations become fodder for characters and plots. Some have made their way into the pages of Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun. Some will be in Mop Doll Murders, the next book in the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries series. And still more will be in future books. So next time you’re carrying on a personal phone conversation in a public setting, you might want to think about who could be listening. You may wind up in some author’s next book.
***
Lois Winston is an award-winning author and designer as well as an agent with the Ashley Grayson Literary Agency. Visit Lois at http://www.loiswinston.com and Anastasia at the Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers blog, http://www.anastasiapollack.blogspot.com.
Buy Link for Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0738...
THE FINE ARE OF EAVESDROPPING
By Lois Winston
Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun, my latest book and the first book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries series, came out the beginning of January. Since its release, I’ve had many people ask me how I came up with the characters and plot for the book. Death by glue gun is certainly not an everyday occurrence, even within the world of amateur sleuth mysteries. Having lost count of all the times I’ve burned myself with a glue gun, the idea didn’t seem all that far-fetched to me. However, the questions got me thinking about the various ways I’ve come up with ideas for my books, and I thought I’d share one of them with you today.
Have you ever thought about how much time you spend waiting? Every day. We stand in line at the supermarket, the post office or motor vehicle, waiting to be waited on. We while away countless hours in doctor and dentist waiting rooms, waiting for someone to jab something cold and uncomfortable into our nether regions or perform root canal. And then we sit or lie there waiting for the procedure du jour to end. We freeze our butts off in the bleachers while our kids kick around a soccer ball or toss a football. We hang around the multiplex lobby, waiting for the previous movie to let out, then hunker down in our seats and wait some more for the next feature to begin. We sit like zombies every morning and evening as the train or bus carries us to and from work. We stand around waiting to be seated in restaurants, then wait for the waiter to take our order and bring our food.
I’ve put all that waiting to good use by eavesdropping. Who among us doesn’t love to eavesdrop? Don’t deny it. We all do it. Forget baseball. Eavesdropping is the national pastime. Since the onset of cell phones, we can eavesdrop with abandon. Try going anywhere without hearing someone’s personal phone conversation. You can’t. Whether you’re in a restaurant, on a train, in a hotel lobby, walking down the street, on line at the supermarket, or even in a public restroom, I guarantee there will be somebody nearby carrying on a highly personal phone conversation in a voice loud enough for everyone within a block’s radius to hear. There’s something about cell phones that makes people raise their voices. Conversations that would normally be held in hushed whispers are broadcast wirelessly like sports announcers booming play-by-play.
Over the last few years I have been privy to the most private details of total strangers, thanks to Verizon, Sprint, T-Mobile, and AT&T. All those conversations become fodder for characters and plots. Some have made their way into the pages of Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun. Some will be in Mop Doll Murders, the next book in the Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries series. And still more will be in future books. So next time you’re carrying on a personal phone conversation in a public setting, you might want to think about who could be listening. You may wind up in some author’s next book.
***
Lois Winston is an award-winning author and designer as well as an agent with the Ashley Grayson Literary Agency. Visit Lois at http://www.loiswinston.com and Anastasia at the Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers blog, http://www.anastasiapollack.blogspot.com.
Buy Link for Assault With a Deadly Glue Gun:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0738...
On the Road Again
On the Road Again
In my dreams, a week dances tantalizingly just over the horizon. This week is filled with nothing. No appointments, no road trips, no phone calls. In my dream, I work at one of my three computers (the sitting down at the desk one, the standing up when my back is tired one, and the go-anywhere laptop one) all day, every day, and at the end of the week book #3 of the Simon & Elizabeth series, which is in bits and pieces at this moment, melds into a seamless story with a beginning, a middle, and and end that makes perfect sense for the reader.
That's the dream. Last fall, I promised myself January through March for writing, since we decided not to travel this winter. I'm not sure where January and February went, but March is speeding by and I've got
not one, but two trips on the docket.
So what do I do about those promises to stay home and write? I will do what most authors I know do: write in short bursts, take every available moment to get the story told, work to make it come together when I can.
And plan for a new dream: that April, May, or even June will provide that empty week that dances just ahead of me, tempting but always just out of reach.
In my dreams, a week dances tantalizingly just over the horizon. This week is filled with nothing. No appointments, no road trips, no phone calls. In my dream, I work at one of my three computers (the sitting down at the desk one, the standing up when my back is tired one, and the go-anywhere laptop one) all day, every day, and at the end of the week book #3 of the Simon & Elizabeth series, which is in bits and pieces at this moment, melds into a seamless story with a beginning, a middle, and and end that makes perfect sense for the reader.
That's the dream. Last fall, I promised myself January through March for writing, since we decided not to travel this winter. I'm not sure where January and February went, but March is speeding by and I've got
not one, but two trips on the docket.
So what do I do about those promises to stay home and write? I will do what most authors I know do: write in short bursts, take every available moment to get the story told, work to make it come together when I can.
And plan for a new dream: that April, May, or even June will provide that empty week that dances just ahead of me, tempting but always just out of reach.
February 5, 2011
Blog Crawl Schedule-Feb. 7-13
Here are my stops on Peg's Blog Crawl for next week. Comment and you might win a copy of THE DEAD DETECTIVE AGENCY in either print or e-book form.
Feb. 7 Rhonda Dossett-The Ones Spell Check Won’t Catch http://thestilettogang.blogspot.com
Feb 8 Nancy Cohen-Metaphors http://nancyjcohen.wordpress.com
Feb. 9 Kaye George-Names Into Words http://travelswithkaye.blogspot.com
Feb 10 Lisa Haselton-Losing the Spice http://lisahaseltonsreviewsandintervi...
Feb 11. Chris Redding-Inventing Words http://chrisreddingauthor.blogspot.com
Feb 12. Weekend-Draw for Prizes from Week 2
Feb.13. Lelia Taylor Syntax and Sentence Structure http://www.cncbooks.com/blog
Feb. 7 Rhonda Dossett-The Ones Spell Check Won’t Catch http://thestilettogang.blogspot.com
Feb 8 Nancy Cohen-Metaphors http://nancyjcohen.wordpress.com
Feb. 9 Kaye George-Names Into Words http://travelswithkaye.blogspot.com
Feb 10 Lisa Haselton-Losing the Spice http://lisahaseltonsreviewsandintervi...
Feb 11. Chris Redding-Inventing Words http://chrisreddingauthor.blogspot.com
Feb 12. Weekend-Draw for Prizes from Week 2
Feb.13. Lelia Taylor Syntax and Sentence Structure http://www.cncbooks.com/blog
