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Sitting and Thinking

Once in a gift shop, I saw a cheesy little poster that depicted a goofy-looking puppy seated with its legs awkwardly splayed. Its caption read, “Sometimes I sits and I thinks, and sometimes I just sits.”

Grammar aside, that pretty much sums up my life. Although I hope I spend more time on the “thinks” side, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have those other days as well. And there’s an equivalent in writing. Some days I reach my requisite number of words, though rarely more; I’m talking about those excruciating writing sessions in which I check the word count every line or two, as if the number of words could miraculously swell to something many times what I just wrote, and then it would be okay for me to quit.

Because I’m not a quitter, darn it, I plug along, and eventually I reach a number that’s acceptable to me. I get a section of the book down, and it works well enough. The action moves at a reasonable pace, the description is adequate, and maybe the dialogue is even close to okay. There’s nothing exactly wrong with it, it’s just not good. It lacks oomph somehow. It lacks energy because my own energy is invariably flat that day.

Lots of what’s missing could be improved with sharper technique. Verbs need to be stronger, description needs to be more exact, characters need to speak more strongly in their own distinctive voices. But there’s also something more illusive involved. For writing to live off the page, we need to transfer over some of our own power. To electrify those lines so that someday, when the book is in print, the reader will feel the intensity we brought to that passage. It’s hard to say how it happens. That’s why writing is such a magical process. Some days, though, I can’t do it. Some days, I really do just sits.

But the great thing about writing is, once those lifeless words are down on the page, it doesn’t mean they have to stay lifeless. Oomph isn’t dependent on the outcome of any one writing session. The energy I didn’t inject into them on the day that I wrote them can come at another time, and the end result will be so seamless the reader will never guess. It’s not necessary that you bring that intensity every day, although I would love it if I could. It’s just essential that you bring it at some time.

I think of books as lumps of clay waiting to be sculpted. Some days we’re spot-on, and we get really close to the outcome we want. The figure hiding in that clay begins to emerge, and its unique beauty becomes evident. Other days, I just scrape away extra clay and leave the magic for another time.

But those “sits” days have their benefits, too. Just because I can’t create magic at those times, doesn’t mean I’m totally hopeless. On those days, I find myself taking a longer, more detached look at the whole project. I look at where I’ve been and where I’m going. I see connections I sometimes miss in the heat of in-the-zone writing. Some of those observations are as critical to the success of the work-in-progress as the more electrified sessions.

So, while nothing feels as good as those dynamite days when I have power to spare, when I write as if a current flows through me and onto the page, I’ve also come to value those times when I’m tempted to borrow back a bit of the energy I’ve already infused into the book. Because I know they both contribute to the final product. 

But maybe I’m rationalizing. Today, I just sits.

Tradition

by Hank Phillippi Ryan

 When we were growing up the exurbs of Indianapolis, we always had Thanksgiving dinner together. My mother, my step-father, me (the oldest), my siblings Nina, Nancy, Liz, and Chip. I think it was extra- special, Thanksgiving, because it was Mom and Boo's (we called him Boo) wedding anniversary. So lots to be thankful for. And there were lots of traditions.

First, champagne and Oysters Rockefeller. Where this came from, I have no idea. Oysters are not plentiful in Indiana. But we loved them.  Now that I have my own husband, and my own step kids and even a grandson and another on the way (Thanksgiving!) we still have that tradition.

Second, we had a tradition of two turkeys. One with oyster stuffing ( all of us kids were grossed out beyond belief, yuck, oysters, slimy, disgsting, forget about it) and one with regular stuffing (delicious, the best, who needs all the other stuff.) Every year, Mom would make two turkeys and stuff one with skeevy oysters, and one without. For us.

One year when I came home for Thanksgiving, and I was oh, 25. I was in the kitchen,watching Mom make the turkeys. I saw her dump the container of oysters into the stuffing, all of it, and proceed to stuff BOTH turkeys with the oyster stuffing. Mom, Mom, I said. Wait! You're putting oysters into both turkeys!

Of course, she answered. With that Mom look. I've been doing that from day one. You think I'd make two kinds of stuffing? You've all been eating the oyster stuff for years.

Then there's the Jello. Remember Jello?  For some reason, black cherry Jello with black cherries suspended in it was a Thanksgiving tradition for us. Where it came from, I also have no idea. (This one, I've let lapse.)   But my brother is 46. He's cooI, he's hip, he's worldly and sophisticated, he lives in Colorado.  (Hi, Chip.) And this year he's going home to Indiana for Thanksgiving. And, I hear, he apparently said to Mom--you're making Jello, aren't you? And sister Liz had already taken care of it.

My father also had his role. After Mom had worked all day, up at dawn, cooking and organizing, and setting the table, and making place cards and general chaos and all of us kids were running around and helping (or not) depending on age and coolness of participation, we'd sit down to the dinner, finally, and Boo would say, completely deadpan: "How do you like it so far?" And we'd all howl with laughter. So I said it this year. 

This year, we just finished out Thanksgiving dinner. And endless dishes, even though I try to clean up as I go. And now everyone but me is in bed. It was great, with all the traditions, and some I didn't even know.

I put the turkey--Oh, that's another one. My mother convinced us that the key to a good turkey was that it was "dry." She overcooked a turkey one year, when we were really young, and presented it to us as "perfect" because the white meat was so "dry!" So, every year since then, when we take our first bite, we all chorus "oh, it's perfect, it's so dry!" Much to the bafflement of guests, who know that dry is exactly not what a turkey is supposed to be.

Anyway, this year, I put the finished turkey, not dry, on a beautiful platter, surrounded by orange slices, kumquats on the stems with leaves, sticks of rosemary and  parsley. My grandson Eli, age almost 6, watching me, said "Why do you put all that stuff on the plate?" And I had to stop and think why. 

"Well, that's what my Mom did," I finally said. "So that's what I do. It's--tradition."

I hope you had a wonderful day. What's your tradition?

PS. I finished my first draft of Drive Time! Happy Thanksgiving!

My Shelf is Full

by Toni L.P. Kelner

It seems like yesterday, but it was over fifteen years ago. I took a copy of Down Home Murder, my first book, and proudly placed it on the bookshelf next to my desk. Of course, I didn't need a whole shelf for one paperback, so I left some dictionaries and reference books on shelf, but I kept space between them, so my book would be in glorious isolation to show how special it was.

Time passed, and I added Dead Ringer and then two anthologies in which I had stories. My third book was published in hardcover and paperback, so I had both of those and the galley. By the time I added my fourth book, I was ready to move the dictionaries to another shelf. There was still plenty of room.

Years passed, and the shelf filled up. More Laura Fleming books followed, sometimes in multiple editions. Plus I submitted to anthologies and magazines. Space was getting tight. I had galleys, paperbacks, hardcovers, books on tape, book club editions, and even foreign translations.

Of course, they weren't all my books, so when I moved my office to a different room, I separated out the books that weren't really mine: the anthologies and essay collections, magazines, even books I'd blurbed.  And I switched to a different bookshelf, one with longer shelves. That left plenty of space for my books.

Until now. I just filled the shelf.

In fact, I overfilled it. When I put in the copy of Wolfsbane and Mistletoe, it took the last bit of space,so I was forced to put the German translation of Many Bloody Returns on top of the other books.

I know this is an odd milestone, but when I first started writing, I dreamed of having a shelf filled with books I'd written. And now I've got that.

My shelf is full.

Writing avoidance revisited

So I'm chugging along toward my deadline, which means that every day I sit down at the computer, twiddle my fingers a little to warm them up, and then dive into the main business of the day. . . fighting the battle between the conscious, responsible, deadline-friendly part of my brain and that other part of my brain that has no desire to work today. The second, more ingenious part that, every day, finds new and exciting forms of writing avoidance to engage in.

Take, for example, the puppy cam.  For the four people in the known universe who haven't yet heard of it; a couple in San Francisco has focused a web cam on the basket in which their six Shiba Inu puppies stay. Sometimes you hit a down time, when they're slowing slides of Shiba Inus, and greatest hit clips from the puppies' past few weeks, but most of the time you can watch the pups live.  They tussle and nip each other with their sharp little milk teeth.  They wag their tails like metronomes when their owner comes home.  They wander around their pen, sniffing everything, especially any poop that they or their siblings have deposited on the pee pads.  And much of the time, they sleep--so soundly that you might have to watch ten minutes before one of them twitches an ear or a foot and you can prove it's live video and not a still shot.

Show me someone watching puppies sleep for ten minutes and I'll show you a writer on a deadline.

It's also possible to while away a decent chunk of prime writing time playing with Wikipedia. "Today's featured article" is usually good for a solid five or ten minutes of avoidance.  In the last week, for example, the featured articles have included:
    The Rokeby Venus
    The Greater Crested Tern
    Congregation Beth Elohim
    Opeth (a Swedish heavy metal band)
    Phan Xich Long
    The Manchester Bolton & Bury Canal
    Surtsey

There's probably some logic to how they choose the articles, but to the casually observing writer, they have both the charm of utter randomness and a wonderfully spurious air of usefulness.  Just reading the article of the day is a prime form of avoidance, and if you follow a few of the links, you can easily find yourself deep in the thickets of bicameralism, Mutiny on the Bounty, Nifleheim, The Strange Case of Dr. Hyde, or Dorothea Lange--every single one of which is findable within two or three clicks from one of the primary articles above. And if the featured article fails to charm, there's always the Recent Deaths page. 

Though there are two problems with the Recent Deaths page.  First, I've noticed that an alarming number of rock musicians and other boomer cultural figures have taken to dying at advanced ages that they could not possibly have achieved without the aid of time machines.  And second, if you keep reading the recent deaths, sooner or later you'll come across the obituary of a writer.  Cue the special effects: subtle touch of the spooky finger of mortality on the back of the neck.  And then you read his bibliography, realize that he wrote a lot more books than you have so far . . . a lot more than you'll ever write if you don't get back on track.

And just like that, you're back at work again.

For a while.

(Oh, look.  The puppy in the yellow collar is up to something. The world's oldest polar bear just died.  And Thursday's featured article is on the Legend of Zelda.)

MJ Rose Chats With The Femmes

We are happy to welcome a special guest to the Femmes blog today, international bestselling author MJ Rose. The first book in her new series, The Reincarnationist, received wide acclaim and was a 2007 BookSense Highlights Selection. The sequel, The Memorist, has just hit the bookstores and was the People Magazine Pick of the Week this week. It's starred review in Publisher's Weekly said it "... skillfully blends past life mysteries with present day chills. The result is a smashing good read." MJ was kind enough to answer a few questions about her work .....

FF:  MJ, on your website you talk about how you loved the book The Secret Garden as a child. Were there other special authors or books that inspired you when you were growing up?

MJ:  Yes, at different times. The Secret Garden was the first one I remember as in being aware that it was a 'book' and that 'books' mattered in some unique way to me. And I was one of those kids who read all the time and who read everything.

Of the highlights: Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, A ghost story by Elwyth Thane called Tryst that haunts me still. Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier, and the very X-rated The Exhibitionist by Henry Sutton, which I stole, from my mother's bookshelf when I was 12 and read in secret. I think it had a bigger impact on me as a writer than anyone would have guessed.

FF:  Oh, how funny. Good old Mom! I'm so glad you mentioned these. The Exhibitionist and Tryst will make for excellent book hunts.

Your own first novels have sexual themes. Did you start off with these because the marketing potential made good sense, or for other reasons? Did you find it difficult to write about sex?

MJ:  Speaking of that stolen book above?

FF:  Yeah! Early theft and sex education, all rolled into one. :) But seriously, I'm curious about how successful authors think when they start a project or series, if choosing subject matter with business in mind is what makes the difference between mid-list and bestseller list books.

MJ:  Well, I have to first say, I've never written anything for its marketing potential. In fact, quite the opposite. I've kept my day job precisely so I could write the books I wanted to write, damn the market and the book's potential.

I was in advertising as the creative director of a 150 million dollar NY agency when I started writing, and now I run a small marketing firm, AuthorBuzz.com, for authors and publishers.

Every single book I've tackled has been something that I was sure would have marketing problems, not potential.

Having been in advertising my whole life, my attitude was and still is - I write ads with the market in mind and that's a job - if I'm going to write fiction I'm going to write what I want even if it never sells or I'm not going to write at all.

Advertising is a business ... Fiction writing is an art ... and even if I'm only an average artist, I do not believe, for me, that I'd serve myself well if I tried to write to sell.

And no - writing about sex is very easy for me to write. No idea why. As for the reason that I often have sexual themes in my work: I write about people in conflict and, when you write about people, you are true to your characters, you are true to their psychology, you have to be aware of them as sexual beings too.

FF:  In The Reincarnationist, you do something different by shifting the story line between time   periods. Are you a closet history fanatic? It's a big change from the earlier books to these in which a large part is historical fiction. 

MJ:  I guess I'd have to say I'm interested in what interests me in that moment. And at different times it has been different subjects. I've never been obsessed with history but I am curious about the past and love visiting it.

What does obsess me is psychology and what is the overarching theme of every one of the 10 novels I've written - how we are a response to our past.

In the first 8 novels, that idea manifested itself as the characters' immediate, this lifetime, past. The kind of past that you'd deal with in therapy.

In the last two novels, The Reincarnationist and The Memorist, that concept manifests as the more distant past, other lifetimes ago past. But it's the same theme isn't it?

What we were is who we are.

FF: So true. I blame all my faults on my ancestors. :) I enjoyed reading about the research you've done on reincarnation for the books. My theory is that it's not so much a soul's progression but genetic memory. When DNA matches a high number of patterns as that of a certain ancestor, you in essence become that person again, complete with weird memories. In the way you have your grandmother's eyes, you might also have her brain. That doesn't explain little children remembering people who are still alive in a far-off village though. Who knows. It's a fascinating subject to ponder.

The idea of secret places and hidden treasures in stories appeals to everybody, from kids to adults. When you're contemplating what the next book will be about, what comes first? The secret or treasure? Who you want your main character to be? A particular exotic setting? A time period that interests you?

MJ:  With some books, it's the secret, with others it's the character. With The Reincarnationist, the idea started with the main character, Josh Ryder. In The Memorist, the books started with the idea of an ancient flute made of human bone - then I had to find out if such a thing could even exist. With the book I'm writing now - the third in the series - it was a minor character in The Memorist, Lucien Glass, who just insisted he have a book of his own.

FF:  Near the beginning of The Reincarnationist, there's a small moment I love. Josh hears a little bit of an aria from Puccini's Madame Butterfly. It fit well without being overdone, coming after a time shift in which an ancient Roman dies from knife wounds. The ancient flute you mentioned is connected to Beethoven in book two. Also, one of your earlier books is titled Sheet Music. What is your musical background? Any favorite music pieces or artists you'd like to recommend?

MJ:  My husband is a singer, songwriter and composer - Doug Scofield - DougScofield.com. I always loved music but since we've been together (13 years now) I've become much more interested in and fascinated by music as a theme and an art form. And I certainly would like to recommend Doug's music. You can listen to samples on his site and even buy his CD. He's the genius in the family!

FF:  I like books of international intrigue, when the action moves from one city or country to another. When you add this element in with your historical sections and the reincarnation aspects, how do you classify the books?

MJ:  When I was growing up, it seemed as if there were just good books and bad books, so I wish I could say 'good books, I hope' and leave it at that. But if I need to classify them, I call them 'smart suspense with a historical element.'

FF:  From the great reviews you've received, I'd say it's safe to put them in the 'good books' category!

We wish you the very best of luck with The Memorist and all those to come in the series. Thanks for taking time to share your thoughts with us!

Be sure to check out MJ's website where she talks more about her writing, research and personal experiences that inspired her books. 

Get Paid for Shopping!

by Elaine Viets

  
 How often have you seen those ads?

 How much more pleasant your job would be if you were paid be a mystery shopper.  You’d head out to the mall at a civilized hour, check out the new shoes, try on designer outfits, pick up a couple of cute outfits for the kids – and get paid for it.
 

Better yet, you wouldn’t have to deal with surly customers and backstabbing supervisors. You’d be in a comfortable mall with pretty plants and marble fountains. You’d be waited on and greeted with polite hellos and courteous “yes, ma’ams.” 

 What a life.

 What a piece of fiction.

 I write the Josie Marcus Mystery Shopper series, set in my hometown of St. Louis. The fourth Josie Marcus mystery, “Murder With All the Trimmings,” debuted Nov. 4.

 You could say I grew up with mystery shopping. My mother was a mystery shopper back in the late 1960s and early ’70s. 

 In those days, it was considered a suitable job for a woman, because Mom wouldn’t make enough money to “threaten” my father or bruise his fragile male ego. She would be in the house by the time we kids – all four of us – got home from school. She’d have dinner on the table when Dad came home from Union Electric at five-thirty. After all, Dad had the “real” job.
 

Never mind that Mom may have driven for hours that day, or tramped miles through the stores. Nor did she shop the upscale stores. She shopped mostly supermarkets and fried chicken franchises. To this day, cold fried chicken still makes me feel queasy.
 

Mom would mystery-shop with her best friend, like Josie Marcus does in my books.  Josie will wear an occasional disguise. Mom didn’t. She maintained that no one was as invisible as a housewife – unless it was two housewives. Women didn’t call themselves homemakers back then.

 Times have changed since Mom mystery-shopped. Few men feel threatened today if their wives rake in big bucks. Women’s work is now considered “real,” although it is all-too-often still underpaid.  
 

Mystery shopping itself has changed very little. The questionnaire that my mother used some forty years ago is similar to the ones mystery shoppers use today: “Did the sales person greet you when you entered the store?” “Was the merchandise properly displayed?” “Did the supermarket checker look at the bottom of the cart?” 

 Woe betide the checker who missed that one. Shoplifters loved to put a 50-pound bag of dog food or charcoal on the bottom of the cart and sneak it out.

 If you still want to mystery-shop after all that, be careful. Like all professions, this one has potential problems. So when you see one of those “get paid to shop” ads, do your own mystery shopping. Check out David Grisman’s www.2006topscams.com/mystery-shopping/

He says many of those mystery shopping guides want you to buy a directory that may contain outdated information.

 How do you protect yourself?

 Look for Websites that give you a money-back guarantee. Check with your state attorney general’s office, or the Better Business Bureau. Look at the Mystery Shopping Providers Association www.mysteryshop.org/and make sure your potential company is a member of MSPA. Also, check MSPA’s site for mystery shopping scams.
 

 While you’re in the mall, stop by the bookstore for a copy of “Murder With All the Trimmings,” a paperback original from Obsidian. You can read a sample chapter at www.elaineviets.com Happy holidays.

Hey. Psst. Can't get enough Elaine?  Come visit  Jungle Red Writers   She's divulging a big big shopping secret, and her secret past...and you can even enter an oh-so-easy contest to get an autographed copy of Murder with All the Trimmings! 

Farewell, Tony Hillerman

by Kris

I was going to write about something else today, but I wanted to add my voice to the chorus expressing sadness about the passing of Tony Hillerman last Sunday. I never met him, and I only saw him in person once at an LCC, but like everyone who enjoyed his books, I felt as if I knew him, and he felt like a friend.

Thank you, Tony, for being an engaging storyteller and for helping us better understand Navajo history and culture, and to appreciate the Southwest landscape that I love as you did.

I’ll miss looking forward each year to the latest adventures of Jim Chee and Joe Leaphorn. I can’t this long series has come to an end, but re-reading my favorite titles will help keep it alive for me.

I would only presume to change the title of your memoir, Seldom Disappointed, to express my gratitude to you and to describe how your books always strike me: Never Disappointed.

RIP, Tony.

P.S. For those of you out there who, like me, long to re-read some Hillerman favorites, I’m going to start by re-reading The Dark Wind? How about you?