Rebecca Forster's Blog, page 11

HECK YEAH! 10 REASONS WHY I LOVE LAWYERS

If you are a lawyer, I love you. Really, I do. In my book* you are exciting, intelligent, mysterious, courageous, resourceful, thoughtful, witty, well-spoken and you are heroic.  

I am married to a judge but he was once a lawyer and that is how my fascination with you all began. Yet, years of trial watching, staff chatting and transcript reading has created a bizarre obsessive/compulsive need to figure you all out.  Since I haven't been able to, I can at least explain why you are irresistibly inspiring to this novelist and those who love to read about you.

1)      You speak legalese. It is like French: exotic, irresistible, intimidating.  Throw in a little Latin – a quid pro quo or prima facia - and you can melt a woman's resolve and strike fear into the hearts of mortal men.
2)      You are confident. Is there a super- secret-double-indemnity-swear-on-your-mother's-grave-and-never-tell class that teaches you how to argue any and every point of view with grace and conviction?**
3)      You  are authoritative. Bad guys pay you to tell them what to do. That makes you a little edgy by association and who doesn't like a bad boy – or girl?
4)      You are altruistic, defending people (even bad people) because you believe everyone deserves a defense.
5)      You are altruistic, prosecuting people (even good people) because you believe in justice.**
6)      You are eye-candy. From the couture clad divorce-attorney-to-the stars, to the public defender sporting a plaid jacket and pony tail and the plaintiff's lawyer in that Italian suit you turn courthouse hallways into runway.
7)      You are funny. Sometimes you even mean to be funny. Either way, a funny attorney is charming and a witty one is irresistable.
8)      You are excellent secret keepers, which is not to be confused with being trustworthy. Though I believe you are trustworthy, that is often a point of debate.
9)      You are curious and tenacious.***
10)    You are heroes and not just in the literary sense. In real life you (and your expertise) are often the only things standing between a person keeping or losing something important to them: their children, their fortune, their reputation, their freedom and, yes, their life.****

*Actually, in all my books since I write legal thrillers.
**This also means that your significant other can never win an argument. Experience tells me the only recourse a normal person has when arguing with a lawyer is to cry and proclaim: "You are right, you are always right." Works for me.
***Characteristics that make you the perfect inspiration for novels and films.
****You have my permission to show this list to anyone who questions your lovability, capability or worth. You may also use the aforementioned in advertising, closing arguments, opening statements and speed dating.

HECK YEAH! 10 REASONS WHY I LOVE LAWYERS

Heck Yeah! The Navy, The Nimitz & the 4th of July

Top Gun.

Great movie.  Loved Kelly McGinnis's seamed stockings. Never gave the Navy another thought after that movie.  Then I got an invite from the Navy's Leaders To Sea program to spend two days on the USS Nimitz and Top Gun became personal. What I thought was going to be an 'excellent adventure'  turned out to be a humbling lesson in pride and purpose of service, freedom and American exceptionalism.

At the North Island Coronado Naval Air Station I was ushered into a briefing where a cheery  Public Affairs officer offered a thrilling description of how wonderful it would be to go from 125 mph to 0 in three seconds when our plane's tailhook caught one of four cables strung across the deck of the Nimitz. Not to worry, she assured us, if the pilot missed cable number four we would simply fly off into the wild blue yonder and take another shot at a tag.  It is, after all, tough to land on something that looks like a moving postage stamp in the middle of the ocean.

 No worries. Have fun.

Pumped up, decked out in earplugs, cranial, goggles and a life-vest, I joined 14 others in a windowless, no- frills plane. We sat backwards, strapped in a four way harness.  We flew for an hour in silence and then finally descended nose up, tail down. We hooked, we lurched and we were hustled out onto a 4.5 acre flight deck.  The roar of the Predators could not be muted by my helmet, engine heat blasted my way, the sense that I had entered a rarefied world was all encompassing but I had only a moment to take it all in. Later I would stand in the biting cold and watch 23 fighter pilots take off from that deck within seconds of each other.  By that time, I learned to follow orders without a second thought the way every sailor on that ship did.

The USS Nimitz was the first in its class. It is 1,092 ft long, 252 feet wide and houses 6,000 personnel. There are four engines powered by two nuclear power plants.  If the vessel didn't need food and aircraft fuel she could function independently for 50 years. The USS Nimitz reaches over 18 stories high from the keel to the top mast. There are four aircraft elevators. I mention the last because there are no elevators for people. All 6,000 persons on board - including me - climbed metal stairs to get where we were going. 

Soon I was clambering up ladders that came darn close to 90 degree angles. Those ladders took me to the most amazing places: briefing rooms, bomb assembly, the hospital, the hangar bay, the mess, and tight quarters where personnel lived for months at a time. It felt like Hollywood; it was, in reality, the business of our country.

I spoke to everyone and everyone spoke back to me without ever taking their attention from their task. I was particularly taken by three young people - so young they could have been my children.

PA Moon, a theatre major in college who worked in Hollywood for a time. How could he have left that glamour for a stint in the navy?  How could he not, was his answer. His creativity was satisfied but more than that he was proud to be part of something so much bigger, so much more important, than making movies.  He admired his mates. He respected his superiors. He was doing good and important work.

I was impressed.

I remember the young woman who stood watch for 6 hours in a pitch black room monitoring computer screens that tracked any movement above and below the water. I asked what she did after she was done with her watch.

 "I go to work."

Watch, it seemed, was what she did for the good of the whole ship; work was what she did for the good of her department.   She told me this with in a voice that held no complaint and so much pride.

I was humbled.

Finally, I sat at lunch with three young pilots. Handsome, intelligent and personable, they had nicknames like Monica and Slag and the Professor. flight suits. These were men and women, so young and bright they seemed to sparkle. They were entrusted with million dollar aircraft that they would use to protect all of us at a moment's notice.  While we lunched, the conversation turned to the fright factor of landing and take-off.  With expected bravado, they accepted my congratulations and expressions of awe.  Then the young pilot next to me looked me in the eye and said, "I'm always afraid when I land at night."

I was stunned by his courage.

I imagine there are times when everyone on the Nimitz is afraid out there in the dark, surrounded by the sea, away from family, knowing their job is to be the first defenders when our country is threatened.  I doubt that young pilot understood the complexity of that simple statement or how it touched me. 

During my stay, I slept in a small room on a thin mattress covered by scratchy sheet. I was jarred by the noise of planes landing above me and the day crew changing places with night crew. I had eaten macaroni and cheese, toasted cheese sandwiches and chicken pot pie and breakfast burritos. The crew had 15 minutes to eat; I ate leisurely for 1/2 an hour. I ran up and down ladders, sat in dark rooms and was freely given information so complex and interesting I couldn't possibly retain it all.  I spoke to people from tiny towns and big cities. I watched the crew work with precision and pleasure and professionalism. I realized that the USS Nimitz is a model of efficiency that should be adopted by schools and government and businesses and individual lives: work for the good of the whole, do work that suits your abilities, respect those you work with and those you work for, understand what your objective is.

Now I am home, writing my books, celebrating heroes in my pages that pale next to the heroism of those 6,000 people on the USS Nimitz. I celebrate and salute each and every one of them.  I am so grateful to them for their service; I am so proud to be an American because of them.

Happy Fourth of July and thanks to all who serve.

Heck Yeah! Writing Together is...Fun?

Recently, I was terribly disappointed by a movie I had looked forward to seeing. The story was thin, the plot holes deep and characterization shallow. When I saw four writers credited for the script, I realized why the movie never gelled. Odd slices of brilliance had flashed and fizzled in a jumble of visions, styles and pressure to perform.
Which leads me to the question of the day: How do creative partnerships thrive and turn out one saleable, seamless product? To answer that question, I joined Scott Gordon, a superior court judge and author, who partnered with Alex Abella, a seasoned nonfiction writer, to publish Shadow Enemies: Hitler's Secret Plot against the United States and Debra L. Martin who teams with her brother, David W. Small, on the Rule of Otharia fantasy books. Then I threw in my two cents because my son and I partnered on two book-to-screen adaptation projects.                  The plan: Does there have to be one? 

Rebecca: Our plan was to adapt my books for the screen.* It seemed simple enough, turning my source material into a screenplay. It turned out to be more intricate than I ever imagined. While the skeleton of the story was there, the presentation in screenplay form was completely different from a novel format. I had to lean on Alex's expertise but first I had to acknowledge that, in this arena, he knew better than I did.I wrote the first draft then we sat for hours at the kitchen table going over every line, stage direction and piece of dialogue until we got it right. 

Scott:  We started from a solid foundation of factual material and a subject that intrigued both of us. Alex and I shared research responsibilities. Once we had all the information we could gather, we locked ourselves in the law library (with gallons of Diet Coke) and came out only when we had a very detailed outline. Alex used his amazing narrative skills to describe how Hitler's spies were recruited, trained and landed in full Nazi uniforms on our shores. Because of my legal background, I picked up the story as it traveled through the court system, the presidential politics and military tribunal. We definitely played to our strengths.

Deb: Luckily, my brother and I share a love of the fantasy genre and specifically of psi powers (i.e. telepathy, etc.) so we had a focus. The planning process was extensive and time consuming. We had to share our individual visions for the book and combine them so that we could build the characters and the fictional society from the ground up. For us planning and immersing ourselves in all the details were critical before we ever began to write.

Execution: Two people/one voice

Rebecca:  Because we were working in visuals, voice wasn't as big a factor as it would have been for a novel. This project was about pacing.Our age difference really got in the way, not our talents. When we were working on our romantic comedy my sensibilities were from the Carey Grant era and his were aligned with The Hangover. With our psychological thriller I had created a wonderful villain in the book and plot points that I thought were chilling. Alex kicked them up ten notches so those same points became gruesome. I can honestly say, he made both projects thrilling while he acknowledge my expertise in characterization and plot trajectory.

Scott : Because we had divided the subject matter so specifically, we each wrote our sections. When it was time to edit, we were extremely diligent. Through that process, there seemed to come a melding of both our voices resulting in what you called a 'seamless third voice'.

Deb: We thought we could each write a chapter and then put them together. That plan was a disaster.  Our success as co-authors came after much practice and creating detailed outlines not just for the book, but for each chapter. Still, we weren't rigid and were always open to a chapter that was enhanced beyond the outline. I also continually edited as we went along. Then we both do a full edit, let the project sit and edit once more before publication. That smoothed out snags.

Rough Patches: Keeping the relationship sane & productive

Rebecca:  If a mother and son could get divorced, we would have been after the first project. I would get upset because the source material was mine and I thought it was perfect. Alex, also thought it was perfect – for a different time and audience. The second time we worked together we laid out ground rules for resolving disagreements: stop working, reference sections of the source material that bothered us and offer alternative language until we found common ground.

Scott:  What? Authors can have creative differences?  Seriously, rough patches are a given when you have two authors and one project. I think our disagreements helped the creative process. We had to pull back, think of the project and be frank and direct. The process of hashing out our differences in viewpoints and style made the book richer.

Deb: Dave lives in California and I live in Boston, so when we got together, we worked extremely hard during our in-person visits. But there was one 14-hour editing session that disintegrated into raised voices and ego kicking. Suddenly, we started to laugh and called it a night. The next morning we came to a great compromise for the scene.  Now we realize that you have to leave your ego at the door and work for the good of the story.   

So, if you're still thinking about teaming up, go for it. Before you do, make sure you're a good match. Be civil, be honest, be clear about the purpose of the project, iron out the combined vision and recognize each other's strengths and weaknesses. If you need a little inspiration pick up Shadow Enemies or Quest for Nobility in the Rule of Otharia series and see how two teams of pros turned out their impeccable books. And when my script becomes a movie, you're all invited to join me and my partner for the premier - we'll buy the popcorn.

*One script is in development, one is with producers and new books are always in the pipeline. Please check out All My E-Thrillers or Early Books  .                                                                                                            

HECK YEAH! Raising Creative Cain (and Abel)

HECK YEAH! Raising Creative Cain (and Abel)

It's not easy being the only normal person in a house full of creative folks, just ask my husband.

A high school football player who grew up to be a superior court judge, he married me when I was a corporate babe with a regular paycheck and my own benefits. When I turned fulltime fiction author he was proud as could be albeit confused .  All those years on the corporate ladder, an MBA and now I wanted to write stories about made up people, beat myself up when I was rejected and spend sleepless nights wondering if I had what it really takes even after publishing 23 books? What aliens had abducted his practical wife?

When I bore him two handsome sons who preferred ballet to baseball, he had to take a full-blown time out. Not only did he have to deal with his own momentary disappointment that his sons would be wearing jock straps under tights instead of football uniforms, he had to prepare himself for parenting challenges that would be a little more complicated than shake-it-off-suck-it-up.

Thankfully, he had already watched me go through 'creative' growing pains. But I was an adult, able to analyze my own journey as I went from a corporate to creative career. Children were a different matter all together – especially boy children.

Girls can become divas and everyone swoons, yet for boys who choose to sing, dance and act, their formative years can be tough. As they grow older, the boy who can kick a field goal is revered over the boy who can high kick. It is up to parents to help their children navigate the taut rope that runs between nurturing a truly talented kid and putting on blinders regarding the impact their creative tendency might have on their overall maturity.

Now that our children are in their twenties and pursuing their chosen professions, I can look back and pick out a few key decisions that helped us raise well-adjusted young men who are practical as well as artistic.

BE AWARE
Watch for signs that a child's creativity is becoming all obsessive or a source of ridicule at school. When our youngest joined the girls' dance team to meet a PE requirement we had an honest conversation about the social fall-out. Luckily, he was a self-assured kid who handled it well and overcame the negatives by involving himself in journalism, science and other disciplines that created 'cross-cultural' friendships at school.  He also never lacked for a date since he was the only boy on the team. According to him, this was a huge plus.

BE CHOOSY
We did not pour money into dance, voice and acting classes. Instead, we made sure that the cost/benefit was in line before we committed to any instruction.  We never paid the fees to have our kids in the chorus of a huge production at the local theatre just so they could appear on stage.  If they were going to be in the chorus but had the opportunity to have a true learning experience (sets, costuming, acting instruction) then our money was well-spent. The point of classes is to move a child forward, not just showcase a cute kid.

BE HONEST
As our children grew in their performance skills, we made a conscious choice to be realistic, objective and honest about their abilities. We did not gush over our children (even when we wanted to).  On the other hand, we did not criticize and beat them up for being less than perfect on stage. We gave praise when it was earned and navigated criticism with questions and comments that led them to self-examination. We enlisted the help of their directors and coaches. The one thing we praised with  a loud voice was effort.  Getting on a stage, sharing your writing, singing for a crowd is never easy. Any person – young or old - who publicly unveils their creativity deserves praise for courage alone.  Yet, to consistently praise or belittle a young talent leads to the inability to view themselves as anything but an actor on one hand or creates such lack of confidence they may never find their true voice. We tried to find the correct 'notes' for praise for each performance.

Finally, we pointed out that the real world is full of stars.  Honesty as children grow into an artistic career will help them deal with both rejection and acceptance graciously.  It will also help them decide if they are willing fight the battles inherent in such professions or settle for less than stardom.

BE PRACTICAL
Both our boys wanted to be in theatre when they were young. When they hit college their paths diverged: the eldest found his passion was film and our younger son became a playwright. At this point, our job was to help them analyze the reality of their career choices. We talked about salaries, cost of living, family obligations should they marry, career stability. These conversations are ongoing and important in terms of creating a foundation for living off the stage.

By the end of their college careers, the youngest one was already a published playwright and, this year, he was a finalist in the O'Neill Awards competition. Our oldest found he had a keen eye for movie production and marketing and now runs his own talent management firm. They both are still working in industries they love, just not in the capacity they envisioned as children.

So, heck yeah! Raise a little creative Cain or Abel. Just make sure you help your child handle the pressures, challenges, heartaches and, yes, triumphs that come with choosing a creative career.

Oh Heck! E-rotica or E-romance?

Oh, that word erotica. Written, it looks naked and naughty; spoken it sounds enticing and exciting. Close your eyes and – well, only you know what images it conjures up. Which brings us to the topic of the day: When it comes to sexy books, where do both reader and writer draw the line between erotica and steamy romances?

The Editor/Publisher:

Normally, this is not a topic I would have visited but a few things have caught my eye in the last few years. First, erotica started being pulled into the mainstream of my local bookstore. Second, category romance became more inventive and definitely steamier. Finally, the advent of E-books and independent publishing allows more sexually explicit material do be read in utter privacy. Think of your Kindle or Nook as the new brown paper wrapper and there's lots to put inside. Nookbooks (Barnes & Noble) offers 7,718 books defined as erotica; Kindle (Amazon), 24,901 (as of this writing).  One online publisher reports that 12% of his offerings are listed as erotica but in, all instances, romance inventory is far greater.

That still left me curious as to the blurring of the line between erotica and steamy romance. Audrey LeFehr who edits books for Kensington's Aphrodisia imprint as well as other genres was very clear about what she looks for. There are no 'romance rules' in erotica (one woman, one man, commitment no matter how steamy the sex). Rather erotica explores the boundaries of a woman's sexual satisfaction without being depressing, degrading or seriously frightening. This could include same sex or multiple lovers.

The Erotic Author:The reason an author decides to write erotica are basic: a burning story line, creative expression, pushing the boundaries of their art.- not to mention that the adult entertainment market is huge and there is money to be made.
Locklyn Swallow, author of numerous shorts including her most recent romantic erotica, Love By Disguise, admits money was her initial motivation and her objectives have been met. While not making her a millionaire, the return on her romantic erotica short stories, published for digital download and reasonably priced, has been greater than expected.
 I.M.Beckett, a pseudonym for a bestselling thriller author, saw erotica as a challenge after reading a classic erotic novel. According to Beckett, there was an extraordinary beauty that came from linking life and death to sexual encounters with an emphasis on writing style, not just sexual description. The Traveler: An Erotic Journey (part I) is a nod to noir erotica. Victoria Hawke, a newcomer to the erotic scene with her Wet, Wild & Wacky, 3 sexy shorts  that have a wonderful, tongue in cheek energy,liked that erotica offered a greater range for readers. With erotica, there are not tonal rules that need to be adhered to as in traditional genre writing. All three met their original objectives but then went on to say that, as authors, the genre allowed them to grow in ways they never expected. Erotic readers, they believe, don't just want to be sexual voyeurs. These readers also want to be invested in character and plot. Short or long, erotica must deliver on all traditional literary levels and then one more – the sexual narrative. 

The Reader:
Recently, I saw a reader on an Amazon Kindle thread apologize for being an avid romance reader. That doesn't happen very often any more. The days of being embarrassed about enjoying a romantic reading experience are just about over. Not so for erotica.

There were some erotica threads on the boards but no one answered my query about why erotica was a genre of choice. Surprising? No. Erotica is, perhaps, the most personal of all reading choices. As with all genres, there is a range within erotica that will blur the lines. What one person calls erotica, another will deem a hot romance and yet someone else will swear it crosses the line to pornography. Then again, isn't it the same for mainstream genres? What some call literature, others dismiss as commercial fiction.

Bottom line, E-books have brought both erotic readers and authors out of the shadows. I for one will be curious to see what the future brings for this genre. Will it bend toward true E-rotica or will it somehow be embraced and engulfed by E-romance?  One thing is for certain, as ownership of e-readers grows erotica options will find ever broader distribution. It will be up readers to determine how successful this genre – like all genres – will be.

OF FANTASY & FRIENDS

Two things happened to me recently that gave me pause. First, I read a debut novel by Mona Karel entitled My Killer, My Love. The second was that a very dear friend passed away suddenly. Now you're wondering what in the heck does a romantic fantasy novel have to do with my sadness at the passing of my friend. Well, it's all about fantasy and faith.

I do not read a lot of romantic fantasy. In fact, it might be fair to say that Ms. Karel's is my first in the genre. I have read pure fantasy, science fiction fantasy, I even added a fantasy overlay to my thriller, Before Her Eyes, yet My Killer, My Love was something special. To say that Mona Karel has a way with words is like saying Susan Boyle can sing. The story of My Killer, My Love is inventive and entertaining and the satisfying conclusion was a testament to her talent as a storyteller. Yet, it was her way with the English language, her vision and the poetry of the fantasy portion of this novel that moved me. I was so invested that I completely accepted the ancient race of beings, their reason for interfering in our earthly ways and the goodness and love shared by the physically flawed heroine and the magical hero.

Which brings me to the passing of my good and dear friend. My first emotion was shock – after all he was not much older than I. My second was overwhelming sadness – and, yes, tears were shed as well they should be. Strangely, my third thought was of Mona Karel's novel. Like her heroine, my friend walked with a cane. Like her heroine, my friend was pained by his infirmity. Like her heroine, my friend was cautious of many relationships. But in the weaving of her novel, Ms. Karel's fantasy hero brings peace and love and beauty to the ever wary heroine who struggles with her leg, her cane and her caution. 

I realized as I came to terms with my friend's death that somewhere in my soul I wanted to believe he had found the world described in My Killer, My Love. Call it the afterlife, call it wishful thinking, call it whatever you will, I believe it exists. None of really can define that place where a person finds peace and even happiness, but Ms. Karel came so close to weaving a web of definition for me that I smiled at the thought that my friend was caught up in it and happy. I imagine him without his cane. I imagine him still cantankerous but with that twinkle in his eye that I knew when we were all younger.

Ask me to point to the exact words that left me thinking of Mona Karel's vision long after I put the book down, ask me to recite one phrase that tied her fiction to my reality and I can't. More it is the sum of the parts that created something that stayed with me, that made me believe there are fanciful things out there for each of us that will heal our wounds – physical or spiritual. I have a feeling the author would think this pairing of her work and my mourning a little odd.  Still,  isn't that the charge of the novelist, to find the words that touch someone in an unexpected way? Isn't that the privelege of the reader, to interpret those words as we see fit?

So, it would seem, at least for this reader and that author, the job is done. I doubt I will ever know if my friend's cane has been left behind as he walks through a magical world without pain or care but I can fantasize, can't I?

HECK YEAH! Call Me Niggardly!

I am a worrier.

My children are right up there on my worry scale for no other reason then they are my children.  I worry about my husband's health. He's fine, thank you very much. I worry about locking the front door until I worry about having my keys just in case I actually did lock the front door. Today, I am worried about words: how we use them and how we don't when we should and how we are becoming lazy wordsmiths.

Recently, the use of the word niggardly caused outrage. It was, according to a group of citizens, offensive. Now, I have come to accept that people use the word offensive at the drop of a hat these days, but I burned some mental rubber on that one. The word niggardly has nothing to do with race even though its true meaning is exquisitely insulting.  

Niggardly - adjective
1. reluctant to give or spend; stingy; miserly.
2. meanly or ungenerously small or scanty: a niggardly tip to a waiter. 

Scrooge was niggardly. Yes, you may call me niggardly although I prefer the word frugal. It was this example – and the fact that a reader wrote to me and said she had to use a dictionary three times while reading one of my books - that caused me to worry that we are losing appreciation for the richness and the nuances of our language, the specificity that has evolved over hundreds and hundreds of years. My heart breaks that we have come to accept the simple, the mundane, the expedient and the bastardized when it comes to how we communicate.*

Perhaps I sound arrogant – worrying about such a lofty thing as language when I am far from being a master of it. I treasure a dictionary (not to be confused with spell-check) when I run across a written word I am unfamiliar with.  I jot a note when I hear a speaker use a term foreign to me. I am disheartened when I hear school children mimicking movie sound effects instead of finding an adjective or adverb to express themselves. For years I have been using the word laconic inappropriately.  To my utter shame, I found it means to be concise, not lazy. At least I came to my senses, sought out the truth and mended my slovenly** literary ways.

As an author, I know that each word is critical to the construction of a sentence, each sentence to the paragraph and each paragraph to the story as a whole. I believe the poet understands this better than the novelist. The poet works with severe restrictions of form. Novelists, are free to flail around, herding thousands of words into a corral that holds hundreds of pages. The novelist views her book as the Grand Canyon, huge and multi-dimensional; the poet's work is a trail of perfectly placed pebbles.

I lament that I, like many writers, often forget that pebbles are critically important. If my words are chosen properly, the end result of all my creative hours will be a seamless, beautiful work of craggy depths and satisfying vistas.  If I settle for any old words, I will have nothing but a pile of  boulders, rocks and mud balls rising to no great height.

So, to the end of becoming a better writer I promise:

I will be neither lazy nor overly ambitious with my word choices.

I will be expand my craft by collecting and understanding new words.

I will choose a word because it is appropriate; not because it is impressive or expedient.

I will understand each word I use.

I will use words like paints to shade, to build, to brighten, to foreshadow.

I will edit my work more than once, changing out words until I write exactly what I want to convey to the reader.

To become a better reader I promise:

I will seek out, support and appreciate the writer who has done all of the above.

To become a better person I promise:

I will strive to pay attention to each word I read, speak or hear so that I will always appreciate and understand what is trying to be communicated.

I feel so much better. On to worrying about something more important - like the niggardly portion of chicken wings I just picked up for lunch.

*I include myself here.
**adjective - lazily slipshod

OH HECK! WHERE HAVE ALL THE BOOKSELLERS GONE?

I just read a book improbably titled The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I say improbable because my editors always advised that less is more when it comes to titles. Readers, after all, only give you seconds to catch their interest. It took me longer than that to sound out all the syllables in the aforementioned book. But all the seconds in the world would not have convinced me to read this except that it was recommended by an extraordinary person: a bookseller.

Which brings me to the lament the day and it goes like this: I miss real, true, dedicated booksellers like Mr. Bruce Raterink, Barnes & Noble, Virginia. He knows exactly what I like to read and what I write (contemporary thrillers and mystery, true crime) but he also instinctively knows how to broaden my reading horizons. Considering I live in Los Angeles and he lives on the east coast his talent goes beyond gift to pure wizardry.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, written with great verve, exquisite sensitivity and deceptive gentility, is set in a time of great sorrow, distress and courage – Europe's recovery after World War II. Juliette, the heroine, is a writer and the cast of characters are all readers (of sorts). A bookseller is early engaged to attempt to find a book in the ruin that is England. The intersection of my normal read and this book pivoted on excellent characterization and astounding pacing. 

But it was Juliette's praise of booksellers  - selfless people willing to endure long hours and no pay simply for the love of books and their readers - that gave me pause. Booksellers have played an intimate role in my professional and personal growth and I fear I have met the last of them.

Over twenty years ago Michelle Thorne enticed me to do book signing at her independent store. Unlike my first cool and corporate experience, signing at Bearly Used (and new) Books was like a riotous party at the Mad Hatter's table – always joyous. My books were piled in an optimistic pyramid as if Michelle knew they would sell by the bushel. There were cookies, praise, decorations, readings. Michelle was a social director, best friend, stern mom and cheerleader wrapped into one. She made me confident about writing when I was anything but.

Robin Elder was a beautiful red-haired woman who moved gracefully through her store lined with  English mysteries, intrigues and thrillers and a select few American authors. I was thrilled to find my books on the shelves of her bookstore/tearoom. Having just moved, finding Robin made me feel as if I was home. But what I remember most is that she embraced my youngest, my curious little boy who preferred books to soccer in a new neighborhood that didn't have much use for the athletically challenged.  For over a year, before she was forced to shut her doors, she discussed books with him and allowed him to read as long as he wished, settled on a small window seat, kept company by her cat. He is now a playwright. His ability to write may be somewhat genetic, but his love of a good story was nurtured within the walls of a small store stuffed with unique books and overseen by a perpetually thoughtful bookseller to whom words meant the world.

Corki Brucellas, the energetic corporate angel who launched my last five books at my local Borders was a literary earth mother who believed each novel was a special delivery. She could discuss individual author's strengths and weaknesses. Knowing how fragile a writer's ego could be, she never voiced the later.  Now my local Borders is closed. Corki will always be a friend but it is sad she will not be a bookseller any longer.

Of all the booksellers who have helped me, nurtured me, celebrated with me, it is only Bruce who continues to ply the trade. The others have moved on to other things, their small stores unable to turn a profit for their wonderful owners, the corporate stores failing to recognize how vital the roll of a true bookseller – not a clerk - is. And, yes, in this age of internet, IM and Twitter,  good reads are recommended by people I've never met, my books are reviewed and criticized but  there are few left who will look a reader in the eye, pluck my book from a shelf, press it into someone's hand  and say "I have read this; you will love it".

In my own backyard there is no one left who will call me by name when I walk into their store, I will no longer sign my name on the flyleaf of my book, I will not sit beside a pyramid-stack of real paper in anticipation of meeting people and being cheered on by the bookseller.  


Oh heck, I miss them. They will never be back because a good bookseller is inefficient and unprofitable. A good bookseller takes too much time to read, to understand, to seek, to find, to chat, to listen to author and reader alike. I am happy that at least one of them is still standing. He makes me lists of books to read and bucks me up when the writing is slow. He picks out passages of my work that he believes are particularly inspired which makes me work all the harder. Because he is there, I write and I read and I am better at both. Lucky me to know him and others like him and lucky Virginians to still have Bruce to press a book in their hands and say "I loved this, so will you".