Laurie Boris's Blog, page 47

Not So Little Women

“She is too fond of books, and it has turned her brain.” -Louisa May Alcott

As a thirteen-year-old bookworm following in my feminist mother’s footsteps, I tossed aside white-gloved girl detective Nancy Drew and her ilk for pioneering female authors of an earlier age: the Victorians. The writing was lovely, but after plowing through a few of the classics, oh, how it rankled. Despite Jane Austen’s relatively high-minded Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice (even though she ended up with über-hot Mr. Darcy), it still bugged the pants off me that these women were so…dull. They played the piano and did needlepoint. They spent a mind-numbing amount of time fussing with their frocks, nattering on about dances, and waiting, all that WAITING, to be introduced to men who might make suitable matches, after which they would probably die in childbirth or become young widows married off to skeevy dudes old enough to be their fathers because everyone knew they could not possibly survive without a Y chromosome in the house.

Read the rest at Indies Unlimited…

Guest Post by Nicole Storey: Making a Difference for Kids with Autism

(Today, author Nicole Storey visits to talk about a cause very dear to her and her family’s hearts. I hope you will consider making a purchase to help support this very worthy organization. Besides, Nicole’s stories are delightfully magical. See my review of her first book, Grimsley Hollow: The Chosen One.)

by Nicole Storey

When my son was diagnosed with autism at the age of three, I was devastated and lost.  I had no idea who to turn to for help.  Thankfully, a dear friend advised me to go on the web and search for autism support sites.  I did, and found many parents treading the same turbulent waters.  I was no longer alone.

It is charities such as The GreaterGood Network at The Autism Site that help parents to believe their children can do more, be more, than the doctors dictate. This charity helps to fund therapy for children with autism: Speech, Sensory Integration, Cognitive/Behavioral, Diet, and so many more.

For the month of July, a percentage of the sales from my books will be donated to The GreaterGood Network to help provide autistic children with the help they need to thrive.  I would love it if you could give just a few dollars and download an eBook or perhaps buy a paperback.  Together, we can make a difference for children with autism! Thank you so very much!

The GreaterGood Network:  http://bit.ly/N0y9cr

Nicole Storey’s Amazon Author Page:  http://amzn.to/KThYif

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84094

Guest post: LB Clark and MusiCares

Lovely and talented author LB Clark joins us to talk about her latest project, Music Speaks, an anthology of short stories about music and musicians, the foundation she helps support, and the vital role music plays in our lives.

MusiCares

Guest post by LB Clark

Think for a minute about some of the roles music has played in your life.  Have you ever used a silly song to help you remember something (if you learned your alphabet as a child by singing the “ABC” song, then you’ve done this one!)?  Have you witnessed music bringing people together or bonded with someone over music?  Have you seen anyone using music to rally people?  Has a song ever changed your point of view?  Made you think?  Lifted your spirits?  Made you feel less alone in the world?

Now imagine for a moment a world without music.  No “ABC” song.  No background noise during the daily commute to work, no ambiance for a romantic dinner, no epic soundtracks for the summer blockbusters, no upbeat tunes to motivate your workout, no mix-tapes or shared playlists of romantic songs that tell someone everything you can’t find the words to say, no wedding march, no lullabies.  No concerts, no dance clubs, no piano bars, no jukeboxes, no karaoke.  Imagine, too, that those songs that made you feel less alone or lifted your spirits never existed.

Can you imagine it?  I can’t.  I don’t want to.  The very notion frightens me.  Without the music that has gotten me through so many dark days, would I even still be here?  Best not to think about that one too deeply.

While music isn’t a basic necessity, it is still a vital part of our lives.  In turn, the folks who make music—not only the musicians but the entire music industry—are an important part of our lives.  What would have happened if one of the musicians whose music helped me stay strong and sane had run into tough times himself (or herself) and not had anyone to turn to for help?  That music might not have ever been made (and therefore wouldn’t have been there when I needed it).

Now imagine that there is an organization that helps musicians and others in the industry when they run into hard times.  An organization that makes sure these folks have medical care and a roof over their heads, ensures they have access to resources to help them overcome addiction, and helps them recover after a major catastrophe or natural disaster, like the massive flooding in Nashville in 2010.  This one is easy to imagine, because that organization exists.  It’s called MusiCares.

Just as music is a vital part of our lives, MusiCares has an important role to play.  By helping music industry people in need, they in turn help all of us to get pass the small and large roadbumps in our lives.

Imagine now that you can do something to help support the MusiCares Foundation and all of the programs it funds—without breaking the bank or even leaving your chair.  Imagine, too, that by donating to MusiCares you also got a couple of hours of entertainment, gained a little insight, and—just maybe—had something touch your heart or inspire you in some way.  This, too, is easy to imagine; with a couple of dollars and a couple of clicks, you can help MusiCares help musicians, and maybe even help yourself in the process.

Music Speaks is a collection of short stories about music and musicians.  The authors don’t earn a single cent.  Neither does the publisher.  Or the cover artist.  Or the editor.  Or that one poor woman who had to format the thing.  Every penny that doesn’t cover print and distribution costs goes directly to MusiCares, and from there on to those music folks who need help.

Click a link, take a look at what’s on offer, and consider supporting MusiCares by purchasing the Music Speaks anthology.  For less than the cost of a cup of gourmet coffee (ebook) or a fruitiful mixed drink (print), you can change a life—a life that just might end up changing, or saving, other lives.

You can purchase Music Speaks on Amazon, Barnes&Noble.com, or Smashwords.

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LB Clark is an indie writer, editor, and publisher currently residing in an East Texas college town. She is the author of the Jukebox Heroes series—a music-inspired urban fantasy/romance series. Learn more at http://www.lonestarbookworks.info.

Why I Love Mainstream Fiction

I’m an omnivorous reader, but mainstream fiction owns my heart. Call it general fiction, mainstream, or commercial, but don’t call it a “default” genre for everything that doesn’t fit into the tidy, Amazon-approved taxonomy! Mainstream fiction is, at its core, about the art, tragedy, and comedy of being human. Mainstream novels are set, mainly, in a realistic world. Most are contemporary and many are historical, set in a time that was particularly transformational in the life of the protagonist. This is why you see so many “coming of age” novels, like To Kill a Mockingbird, The Secret Life of Bees, The Ice Storm, and Cutting for Stone written against settings of great social, cultural, and political upheaval. Most mainstream novels are driven more heavily by character than by plot. Most have themes. Story arcs. Protagonists, often in a guise of a comfortable life at the beginning of a story, are shaken from their lethargy by events large and small. Or, like John Irving’s The World According to Garp, one of the first mainstream stories to capture my writerly attention, Garp enters life at a great disadvantage and must find his own way and make his own family. Characters in some of the best mainstream novels want something badly. They are willing to move mountains to get it. Save the world, save a life, save a tree…all can be worthy goals if they are difficult for a character to obtain. A character’s journey can be as broad as reinventing one’s life after the loss of a loved one, or as small as taking a first step from an uncomfortable place. While they don’t always have happy endings, and even though some may consider me a literary dinosaur for writing in this genre, I enjoy the journey, the feeling of sinking into a universe of characters, a place, a time, knowing it will transform me, as well.

Oooh, Shiny…

I don’t know about you, but I love a good bit of irony. Just last week, my friends and compadres at IndiesUnlimited.com were having an aerobic bit of discourse about the dreaded “G” word. No, not gorgonzola. Gatekeepers. And whether or not indie authors needed them in this crazy cowtown. I can see both sides of the issue, and I have great respect for my friends who say, “We don’t need no stinkin’ badges!” So it was with a bit of a sociological eye that I submitted Drawing Breath – weeks before my post aired – on a tip from author J.L. Murray when GrubStreetReads.com offered a free promotion. Do I like shiny things? Yes. Do I like praise? Heck, yes. So when J.L. Murray, David Antrobus, and I were all endorsed, our lovely book covers on their home page all in a row, sure, I was moved. Do I think we NEED endorsements other than those lovingly offered by our readers? No. But better than the endorsement is what the Grub Street evaluator said about Drawing Breath:

“I loved this book! From the beginning the story drew me in and I couldn’t put it down,

even when I was crying so hard I couldn’t read. You have created a beautiful story that

explores innocence both for Caitlin and in my opinion Daniel as well.” -L.R.

Now that’s an endorsement!

Will Technology Drive Readers to Demand More?

It rarely happens, but this year, I had the opportunity to go somewhere nice on vacation. Not only was it somewhere nice, but it was on a river cruise, a “cozy” setting where I had a week to get up close and personal with 140 people, pretty much all of whom had disposable income, at least one variety of electronic reading device, and no shyness about whipping out their TBR lists.

Really, authors. Stop salivating. It’s unbecoming. And you’ll short out your electronic reading devices.

Okay, I sold a few books. But during the week, I had a lot of chances to talk to readers. Not like at the usual events, where I’m reading and signing, answering questions, having the briefest of exchanges. But really talk to them about what they read, why, and how technology is changing their experiences.

“I’m disappointed in e-books,” one gentleman told me at dinner.

Yay, I thought, another discussion about formatting issues. Typos. Grammar. Price gouging. Once again I will have to defend the entire indie author movement because a few of us haven’t gotten the memo that when someone is paying for an experience that will last longer than it takes to down an espresso, they’d rather it not be riddled with the most basic of errors.

I waited for him to start.

“I thought they’d be more…advanced than they are now,” he said. “Given the current capabilities of technology.”

This got my attention. He went on. “I want to choose which character tells the story. Say you have an event, and it’s different depending on who’s describing it. I don’t see why we can’t choose the point of view.”

Oh, boy. Okay, I had several options here. One: a long and tiresome defense of the value of experiencing a creative work the way the creator intended it to be experienced. Two: excuse myself to the ladies’ room and never return. Three: consider his request and speculate on how it could be realized.

The ladies’ room was occupied. I hadn’t had enough wine for option one. I signaled the waiter to refill my glass and mentally waded into option three.

Why can’t that be done, really? On a web site, it would be simple. Maybe have a core page where the event is laid out through omniscient narration (although how can that truly be an objective accounting), with links coming off it for subpages in each character’s perspective. But is this reading? Is this truly even a novel anymore? Just because Jennifer Egan created a chapter of A Visit from the Goon Squad as a PowerPoint presentation (which, to my disappointment, wasn’t really a true PowerPoint presentation in the e-book), just because some books allow you to choose your own ending, do we have to follow Alice down this rabbit hole?

Should we give the readers what they want, what technology can bear?

Before you start flaming me about artistic vision and integrity, aren’t we to some extent catering to the reader already? Not too many years ago, graceful, lovely hard-bound editions were crafted, meant to last for generations. This treatment led a sense of seriousness to the work. It was how the book’s creators meant it to be enjoyed: as a full, sensual experience. Then readers tired of giant tomes breaking their noses when they fell asleep reading in bed. Coincidentally, new technology became available that prevented this medical malady. Lo and behold, authors made e-books. Technology (and the opportunity to make more money) drove the creation of more and better e-readers. And we adapted our books to fit them. We gave up the rigid control of the print media and let authors choose their own fonts, their own sizes. In the interest of full disclosure, I’m an old-time book designer. Font design and choice were about more than just a pretty face. A novel that takes place in medieval Bavaria does not have the same flavor when set in Courier or Times New Roman. It still does not feel right to me to read War and Peace on my Kindle. Also, like everything in our culture, genres and writing styles cycle in and out of favor. Attention spans shorten; we tighten our writing. Prologues are in. Prologues are out. Happy endings are in. Happy endings are out. (Insert your own happy ending joke here; I’m tired.) Humor sells. Vampires sell. We’re done with vampires. Chick lit is dead. The novel is dead. Whatever. Most of us don’t write to suit a fickle marketplace, but we are influenced somewhat by what people want to read, don’t want to read, or how they want to read it.

Which brings me back to the question I always ask of technology: Just because something can be done, should it? If readers, wanting the next innovation, crave a more interactive experience with a work of fiction, should it be available? Okay. Done well, that could be interesting.

But what if they want to make their own covers, choose the name, sex, ethnicity of the protagonist? My answer: write your own damned book. I’m going to the emergency room. War and Peace just broke my nose. Again.

—

This post appeared previously on Indies Unlimited.

Win a Copy of Drawing Breath

I know. We give away free e-books all the time. But some of you don’t have or don’t like electronic reading devices, and you want an actual book you can hold in your actual hands. One with the author’s signature, perhaps? Well, if you pop over to Goodreads and sign up by June 6, the nice people who run the place will put you in the running to win one of two signed copies of my latest book.

Don’t know much about Drawing Breath? Here’s what a few people have been saying about this coming-of-age-novel, already the proud owner of nine five-star reviews:

“…an achingly beautiful story of friendship and growing pains, and ultimately, of love – specifically the lengths a girl on the cusp of womanhood is willing to go to prove her love and fix a terrible mistake she’s made before it’s too late.” - TheBookSlave

“Without any illusion, I want to say that Drawing Breath is one of the best indie authored books I have ever read. No offense to others, Laurie Boris has delivered a masterpiece in a short 137 pages……The emotion and tension between the two main characters builds as the novel ticks off the seconds–precious seconds that cannot be regained…. Edited to perfection, this story never succumbs to the cliche, but builds to a climax that tugs at the heart, the kind of feeling that stays with you long after you’ve finished the book.” - J. Devitt, author of The Card

“When I first read the description for this book I was hesitant. As a parent I wasn’t sure how I felt about love between a man in his thirties and a teenage girl, but I needn’t have worried. The writer did a wonderful job telling the story and there was nothing lewd or inappropriate about it. I couldn’t put it down and was left with the feeling that I had been witness to something secret yet innocent, heartwrenching and sad, yet lovely and significant.” -wyldfire

I hope you’ll consider entering the giveaway. Read more about the book or read the rest of the reviews here. There’s also an excerpt from Chapter One on the “Drawing Breath” tab of this site. Thank you, and I am grateful for your support.

(Note: I’m terribly sorry, but this giveaway is for US residents only, because of the postage costs.)

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

A local author had asked me to participate in an event sponsored by the Woodstock (New York) Library Forum called, “Four Funny Writers.”

Now, I have this love/hate relationship with public events. A natural introvert, my first instinct is to cringe, lock the doors, and hunker down in front of the television, eating junk food and watching episode after episode of The Big Bang Theory. But getting out and meeting people can be a very good thing. So I do it. I even wrote this blog post on public events, and how to stop doing pointless and mentally poisonous things like imagining the audience in their underwear.

Preparation. Yes. It’s all in the preparation. So that’s what I did. This was a pre-Mother’s Day event, with writers who have decades more publishing experience than I, so I needed to choose the right excerpt from the book. I printed it out in a large font to make reading easier, since my fifty-year-old eyes no longer like the ten-point type that has been standard for book production for the last fifty years. I rehearsed over and over until my tongue no longer tripped over the lines, until I hit all the right marks. I gathered all my books, the easel I display them on, my bookmarks and business cards, a printout of the reading, and put them in a box in my living room. I threw in the copy of my new book, just received, to whip out when the inevitable question of “what’s next?” arose. Damn, I felt impressive. I was even wearing jewelry. And I don’t pull that crap out for just any old occasion.

But something happened in the half-hour between getting into my car and arriving at the library. It wasn’t my confidence. I felt great. I love reading in Woodstock. The book is set there, and people love hearing about the things they’re familiar with. Plus, I was reading with other writers so the pressure wasn’t all on me. No. A confidence crisis wasn’t the problem. I parked, and, smiling to myself, I opened my trunk. No box. No books. No reading carefully selected and printed out in fourteen-point type. No beautiful new sample book. No easel. Nada. Bupkes.

I found myself rapidly cycling through Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief.

Denial. No. This can’t be happening. I’m going to close the trunk, and when I open it again, there will be books.

Anger. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bargaining. Please, Universe, if you can just make one copy of my book drop from the sky, at least I’ll have something to read, and then I’ll donate it to the library. Pay my library fines. Pay everyone’s library fines. I looked up. Nothing. Bastards. All my new age friends have been lying to me. There is no Universe and the only way it works in strange ways is in its innovative methods to screw you over.

Depression. Why? WHY? Why do I bother? I should have stayed home and eaten ice cream in front of the television. I suck. I am too stupid to be a writer.

Acceptance. Okay. Even though I am the biggest schmuck in the world, there has to be SOMETHING I can do to save my bacon.

Just in case, I checked the trunk again, and the parking lot, in case that book dropped from the heavens and landed, say, in the hedges or on one of the many hybrids and Volvos in attendance. Nothing. My brain-wheels started turning. As I paced the library’s driveway, two minutes until show time, my mind bounced between daring to recite what I could remember of the reading (not much), and driving to the nearest bar. Just then, the results of Bargaining showed up. No, a book did not drop on my head, although I sort of wished something heavy would have, maybe Stephen King’s latest, to put me out of my misery.

As I was contemplating how to explain my soon-to-be-absence-and subsequent-public-drunkenness, a friend walked out of the library. A friend who lived in Woodstock. She saw my stricken face. I told her the story.

“You want me to go home and get my copy?”

Thanks to this angel, I did my reading—ironically, a scene where one sister reassures the other, with total lies, that their fledgling holistic health retreat would not be a flop—and everything was fine. The audience did not believe the story I told them about the black hole that ate my books, but they did find it amusing.

What have we learned, boys and girls? Of course, do the preparation. Rehearse the reading. Wear the jewelry, if that’s your thing. But first, put the damned books in the damned car. Better yet? Keep them there.

(Previously published on Indies Unlimited.)

Conflict and Why You Need Some

Whether your story is plot- or character-driven, what’s really sitting behind the wheel of this bus is the conflict. Without conflict, your story will flop around like a quivering lump of protoplasm, kind of like Jabba the Hutt without the charm. Conflict drives story. It drives your characters to get off their asses and do something about the things that have been bothering them.

To keep the conflict in the forefront of my squirmy writer brain, I keep asking myself, “What does this character want?” Okay, right now one of my protagonists wants chocolate and a shoulder rub. Lovely aims, but hardly enough to make a reader stick around for three hundred pages. The conflict is too easily resolved. She can go to the store to buy chocolate, or pay a massage therapist to tend to her aching muscles. BUT… what if she is driven to the point of obsession to create the most sinfully delicious chocolate on the planet because her mother died in a freak chocolate fountain accident before she could realize her dream of being the next Willy Wonka? What if she is so hideously deformed that all of humankind recoils from her, except for the nice guy down the street…who is marrying a total bee-yotch next Saturday, and our gal is contemplating nefarious behavior involving rat poison and a bear trap?

Now there’s some conflict.

This thing your character so desperately wants can be large as freeing the slaves of Egypt or as small as getting a pretty waitress to agree to a date. This goal could look insignificant to some people, but it should be difficult for the character to obtain. Because coupled with a desperate want is the potential risk of not getting it. There are consequences. What is the character willing to put on the line? Pride? Dignity? A fortune? His life? Her marriage?

So, for example, you have a guy willing to ditch everything he knows and loves for a chance at a better life. Yet that’s still not enough, folks. You have to make me care about this guy. If you’re going to stick young Ishmael on a doomed whaling ship helmed by a vendetta-obsessed captain, give me a reason to root for his survival. If he’s two-dimensional or a total douchewaffle, I’ll root for that sucker to sink.

So here are some ways you can raise the stakes and heighten the conflict in your stories.

• Make me empathize with your character. There are many excellent ways to do this. One involves good, solid character development, and I highly recommend you check out JD Mader’s recent Indies Unlimited articles on the subject. Give them flaws. Make them human. Even the bad guys. Make us like them, or at least care what happens to them.

• Try not to give your protagonist an easy way out…unless that’s the way he or she rolls. If a character chooses a solution that on the surface seems quick and painless, let there be consequences for taking the shortcut. Show us the fine print on that deal he penned with the devil. For instance, a dude’s marriage is failing. Instead of working on it, he goes out looking for distraction. Glenn Close comes on to him at a party and takes him home for a night of stupefying abandon. But…SHE’S EVIL! SHE BOILS BUNNIES! See? Consequences. Now he has to kill her. Which is lots harder because she. Simply. Will. Not. Die.

• Keep throwing your characters curve balls. Aha! Your protagonist detective, a former ninja who lost his hand and his wife in an unfortunate throwing star accident, just found some possibly incriminating DNA on a samurai sword. Mystery solved? No! It’s inadmissible in court! And he trips on his way down the stairs after a horrible argument with his pregnant teenage daughter who wants to move to Alaska with her forty-year-old boyfriend. Now, hobbled by a twisted ankle, family problems, and lack of evidence, he has to work even harder to catch the bad guys. See, we care more about him now, and we want to stick around to see how he’ll break the case.

• Bounce characters off each other. This creates all sorts of sparks. Not only does your protagonist want something desperately, but this jerk is standing in her way. What’s she going to do about it?

• Use your words. Yes, grasshopper, you can ratchet up conflict by the very words you choose. Or don’t choose, as the case may be. Short sentences at the right time are magical. When the moon is full. Or something howls in the distance. The door creaks open. A hand shoots out. Long, yellow claws drip blood. See? Looking over your shoulder, are you? Ha. That’s exactly what we want. At the height of a confrontation, we don’t want extra words cluttering up the view.

How do you make conflict work in your writing? Or do you need some?

(Note: this post originally appeared on IndiesUnlimited.com.)

Why I Wrote Drawing Breath

May is Cystic Fibrosis Awareness Month. I didn’t know much about cystic fibrosis until I met Bill Fiscaletti, many years ago. He attended the same high school as my husband. The two were introduced through their art teacher and became friends. When I came on the scene a few years later, Bill was a pretty brilliant painter and actively involved with community theater. We’d come to his plays and meet afterward for dinner. When he talked about CF it was mainly to rage about medical funding and why AIDS got all the research money when there were more kids dying from CF. Otherwise, he treated it as a fact of his life. Sometimes he had to go for treatments, sometimes he got sick, and my husband visited him in the hospital. Sure, he coughed, but after a while you just got used to it, waited until he was done, and continued the conversation. Bill was just Bill, not a guy with a disease.

Yet without having known Bill, I might have never written Drawing Breath. Heck, he’s one of the reasons I keep writing fiction. He was one of my heroes, although I never told him. If I had, he probably would have laughed and changed the subject. He believed in doing art, not talking about art, and he didn’t consider himself a hero. Despite having cystic fibrosis and being in pretty rough shape at times, he just went about his business, did his breathing therapy, took his medication, and poured his passion into the activities and people he loved, even though he was already way past his “expiration date.”

We silly humans can put blinders on when looking at people with horrible chronic diseases. As if they’re saints or something. Bill was flawed, like all of us. Human, like all of us. He could have a temper, especially when he sensed he was being humored or pitied. He blew deadlines. He spaced on details, which led to sometimes sad and sometimes comical results. For reasons I could never fathom even though he explained it to me (patiently) dozens of times, he was a big fan of professional boxing and especially Muhammad Ali. But he could also be sweet and thoughtful and kind, often when you least expected it. He never had a real girlfriend, and that made me horribly sad, because he had so much to give and was so infinitely lovable. Maybe that’s also one of the reasons I wrote this book. But muses work in funny ways. As the character of Daniel became less Bill and more Daniel, the love I wanted to give him became more complicated, more demanding, more human.

Drawing Breath is dedicated to Bill, although he’d probably tell me to stop talking about him and get back to work. So I do. I put my head down and write another novel, and another, and another.