My Weblog

Blasting Into the Future

by Toni L.P. Kelner

 

 

As of 4 AM yesterday morning, I have finished writing Blast from the Past, my eleventh novel. With so many novels under my belt, one might reasonably assume that I perfected my writing process. Ha! Not even close! The sad fact is that every time I write a book, it's a whole new ballgame.

One of the biggies this time was the time it took me to write it. Due to circumstances and my own poor planning--and mostly it was the poor planning--I wrote this book faster than I've ever written a book before. My previous book, Who Killed the Pinup Queen?, took me about four months, and that was pretty tight. I wrote Blast from the Past in two and a half months. By the way, I don't recommend either timeline. I'm a really bad planner.

Next was the background. Tilda Harper, my protagonist, is a freelance entertainment reporter who specializes in "Where are they now?" articles. In the previous two books of the series, she's tracked down TV stars and pinup queens. This time, I was working with movie stars and comic book writers. So that meant I had to research who new worlds. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It was a lot of fun. But it was something new.

Then there was the setting. Tilda lives in Malden, MA, and she's usually found in Boston or Malden, or maybe New York. This time, I put her on Cape Cod. This was the first time I set a novel in a place I haven't spent lots and lots of time. I've been to the Cape several times, but not recently and not for long periods. That meant that instead of relying on my memory, I was hitting travel sites on the web a lot more. At least I based my fictional inn on a real one, the Chatham Bars Inn, where I did spend a weekend.

Finally, I wrote this book a little differently. Normally, I do not write sequentially. I may work on Chapter 5 one day and Chapter 2 the next and then hop to Chapter 17. This time, I only did a little bit of hopping around at the beginning. Then I went back to the beginning and wrote straight through to the end. I'm not sure why it worked out this way.

The fact is, I often don't know why my writing process mutates. I've just learned that what works for one book might not work next time. I'm not sure if that makes it more of an adventure, or more of a pain in the rump. Maybe a bit of both.

At least there's one key lesson I did bring along from the previous experiences. That's the fact that I knew that I had written ten novels, and so I could trust myself to write an eleventh. Now that I've written eleven, I'm pretty sure that when the time comes, I'll be able to write the twelfth.

Note: Blast from the Past, the third in the "Where are they now?" series, will be released by Berkley Prime Crime in February of 2011.

Recipes! I Have Recipes!

by Kris Neri

I like eating. Too much. My secret fantasy is that one day I will somehow become one of those metabolically gifted people able to eat whatever they want without gaining weight. It could happen. The tooth fairy used to leave me money for the baby teeth I shed.

From the food standpoint, the book I most enjoyed writing was my suspense novel, Never Say Die, featuring triathlete Zoey Morgan. A professional female triathlete, even one as small as Zoey, could easily consume 8,000-10,000 calories a day. Of course, she’d burn that many, too. I’ve got consuming nailed, but not burning.

While someone was trying to kill Zoey in that taut, shot-from-the-cannon plot, she still had to squeeze in regular eating in that book. She kept reminding herself that she couldn’t afford to lose weight going into a critical, career-making race, because that would hurt her stamina and strength. I wish I had that excuse…without the necessity of actually having to race.

In my funny mysteries, my paranormal novel, High Crimes on the Magical Plane, featuring fake psychic Samantha Brennan and genuine Celtic goddess/FBI agent Annabelle Haggerty, and my madcap Tracy Eaton mysteries, featuring the daughter of eccentric Hollywood stars, I try to keep the farcical pace moving too fast to slow it for too many meals. But naturally, I like eating along with my characters too much to skip them entirely.

I don’t write recipe mysteries, but I do write dishes into my books. And I create recipe cards  that I give out at signings. My first recipe card was for a dish served in my first mystery, Revenge of the Gypsy Queen. That was for Bailey’s Irish Cream Tiramisu. I can’t tell you how many versions of that I went through before I settled on the final one. There was a sacrifice.

My latest recipe card has been for High Crimes on the Magical Plane, Fit-for-a-Goddess French Toast. If you haven’t managed to snag one of my printed cards, I’ll share it with you here:

6 oz mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ cup chopped walnuts
6 slices cinnamon swirl bread from the supermarket (day old)
3 large eggs
2 cups half-and-half
2 tablespoons butter
Maple syrup

Mix together mascarpone cheese, sugar, 1 teaspoon of vanilla, walnuts and 1-2 tablespoons of half-and-half (enough to make it spread easily). Spread 2 oz. of mixture on one slice of cinnamon bread. Press a second slice of bread to the cheese mixture to form a sandwich. Make up remaining sandwiches. In a flat-bottom bowl, whip together eggs, 1 teaspoon of vanilla and remaining half-and-half. Soak both sides of the sandwiches in the egg mixture. Melt the butter in a nonstick skillet. Cook the sandwiches for 2-3 minutes per side, until golden. Cut sandwiches on a diagonal. Serve with warm maple syrup. Makes 3 servings

Absolutely to die for. And since it’s loaded with artery-clogging ingredients, it's to die from as well, but we all gotta go sometime.

You’ll find recipes for these and other dishes on my website. And I have more mystery-related recipes in mind that will come along later. Unfortunately, I can only eat so many prototypes at a time if I want to fit into my clothes.

Hmmm…maybe the secret to that metabolic state I desperately yearn for is simply to stop creating recipes.

How Far Do You Go?

by Hank Phillippi Ryan 

My husband and I only disagree about a few things. War and cowboy movies: Jonathan yes, Hank, no. Number of pairs of shoes necessary for a weekend trip: Jonathan, two, Hank, more than two. Time to drink coffee: Jonathan, morning. Hank, anytime, anyplace.

 

I’m sure there are a few more. Mostly, we understand the other’s philosophy about such choices. I cry at absolutely anything so if I start watching a war movie, I start crying instantly. (Jonathan: Are you sniffing? Hank: Yes. Jonathan: Do you have a cold? Hank: No, this movie is sad. Jonathan: It’s not sad! Hank: Well, it’s going to be sad.)  He understands, although he doesn’t agree. Same with my caffeine and shoe addictions. No harm, vive la difference.

 

However. What we cannot understand about each other, and no matter how often we talk about it, we cannot come to an understanding, is about finishing books we don’t like.

 

For example, one conversation may go like this:

Hank: This stinks. I can tell. I’m done.

Jonathan:   You’re only on page one.

Hank: So? I can already tell. I don’t like it.

Jonathan: Give it a few more pages. We bought it, after all.

Hank: (considering)

Jonathan: And you’re an author, remember. What if someone put down your book on page one?

Hank: (to herself:(they wouldn’t because I don’t have absurd imagery, long descriptions, head-hopping and stick-figure characters like this one does.) 

Out loud: True. Okay, I’ll read a bit more.

Jonathan: Plus, it may get better. It may be the best book you ever read. And you’ll miss out if you stop.

Hank: It won’t be the best book I ever read, because a, the first page stinks, and b, well, I can just tell.

Jonathan: You’re weird.

Hank:  You married me.

Jonathan: Lucky me.

Hank: True./

 

A few moments of silence.

Hank: Page two stinks, and page three stinks. I’m done. I already know who did it, I bet you a million dollars.

Jonathan: Fine.  I tried. But I think you’re silly to give up so soon.

 

On the other hand. Same characters. Different day.

Hank: How’s your book?

Jonathan: I hate it.

Hank: You hate it?

Jonathan: Yeah. Every time I pick it up, I can’t remember what happened before, and I have to start over.

Hank: So stop reading it!

Jonathan: Sigh. I can’t.

 

Next day.

Hank: How’s the book?

Jonathan: I still hate it.

Hank: So stop reading it!

Jonathan: I’ve gotten this far. I might as well finish.

Hank: Life is short! Read a book you love!

Jonathan: Maybe I’m just not getting it. I need to give it another chance.

 

Next day.

Jonathan: Where’s my book?

Hank: I hid it. You hated it. Here’s another one. One you’ll enjoy.

 

So you get the picture. Jonathan makes a deal with the book. He decides to read it, and read it he does.    Inexorably, unrelentingly, determinedly.  I have never heard him say: wow, that book I hated at the beginning turned out to be really great! I’m so glad I stuck with it. But, I suppose, it could happen.  (Has it happened to you?)

 

Me, on the other hand, how many wonderful books have I missed because I’m impatient, inflexible, short-sighted and hyper-critical?  Who knows. I remember hating Julius Caesar in high school, but in college, I became devoted to Shakespeare. Nicholas Nickelby: I griped all the way through junior English class—now, I think it’s the best Dickens. Edith Wharton—I didn’t fall in love with her until my thirties. So maybe there’s some timing thing.

 

But I’m reading a book now that EVERYONE loves. (Not a femmes book, let me hasten to say, and not a mystery.) I can’t bear it. I writhe in agony every time I pick it up. It’s boring, overwritten, and NOTHING IS HAPPENING.  And I can’t tell the characters apart. But it’s acclaimed.  Do I have to finish?

 

Ah..problem solved. Jonathan is reading it now.  

Under Cover

By Elaine Viets

You’d think after nineteen mysteries, I’d be used to seeing the new cover for my latest novel.

But I’m not. I’m as excited as a first-time author over the cover for my latest Josie Marcus Mystery Shopper novel, "An Uplifting Murder."

Isn’t it cute?

This time, Josie mystery shops a lingerie store. Naturally, I had to visit lingerie stores, too. So far, I’ve done $200 worth of research. I also made an amazing discovery: If I spend ninety bucks on an underwire bra, I can wear a cheap T-shirt and look perky.

The cover subject – lingerie – presented a few problems for the publisher’s artist: In the books I write (kinda cozy) my heroine can’t run around in her skivvies like some hard-boiled moll. Sure, people are murdered in this book, but there are no dangerously dangling bras.

I assume my readers are a lot like me. I don’t want to stare at some Angelina Jolie look-alike in skimpy underwear. I don’t think you do, either. Josie is a thirty-something single mom, not a centerfold.

The artist solved that problem nicely: Josie’s undergarment completely covers the subject. It’s modest by Florida standards, where even eighty-year-olds wear bikinis on the beach. Josie’s lingerie is also flirty, with lacing up the back.

Josie’s skull scarf sticking out of the shopping bag is a nice touch, too. Designers like Ed Hardy have made death’s heads chic. The skull scarf serves as a subtle reminder that this is a murder mystery. There are no brutally obvious nooses, bloody knives or assault rifles.

The artist also gave Josie a new haircut. In the other five books, Josie has had long hair.

I was still writing "An Uplifting Murder" when my editor showed me the proposed cover. We both liked Josie’s new hairstyle, but how did we let our readers know about it?

The answer was right in front of me, on my computer screen. I’d reached the section in the book where Josie had to get some crucial information to solve the murders. What better place than at a hair salon? She got a haircut just like the one on the cover.

"An Uplifting Murder" will be published Nov. 2. You can order it now deeply discounted at http://tinyurl.com/2c39y7x

Thank you for your . . .uh . . . support.

Conflicted About Conflict

by Mary Saums

I loved Dana's post about how we have problems with conflict in our writing. It's so true. We're nice ladies, for goodness sake. We don't do conflict in real life. That's why it's so hard to put our beloved characters in the middle of trouble. 

But we have to. We write stories that require testing the hero/ine to the max, and that means we have to also create villains and the problems that cause hero and villain to clash. 

 

One clash isn't enough either. The hero has to go through a series of trials in a novel, ranging from the merely annoying to something a lot more up close, personal and serious.

 

This is tough work. We have a world of options but it's so hard to zero in on how to move that plot and create those villains who will bring the conflict to the protagonists in our stories.

 

Enter a genius.

 

I've recently discovered a book that is giving me real help with these problems. The genius is its author, John Truby. The book is THE ANATOMY OF STORY: 22 Steps To Becoming A Master Storyteller. 

 

John Truby teaches screenwriting classes but his approach in this book takes on all aspects of story, whether you write screenplays or novels. One of the things I like is that he gives examples from well-known movies so writers can see how and why those stories work. 

 

This book goes way beyond the usual found in most how-to books. It's deep and chock-full of useful insights. I like this quote from the LA Weekly in the blurbs: "...{His lessons draw} epiphanies that make you see the contours of your psyche as sharply as your script."

 

Wow. Not sure I want to see the actual contours of my own psyche, but you get the idea.

 

Now, about conflict. Let me just give an example of helpful stuff in Anatomy of Story. I tend to consider only the protagonist's main adversary when trying to come up with problems or confrontations. Truby has better ideas. He shows a way of deepening your plot, fleshing out your characters and creating conflict. 

 

He calls this Four-Corner Opposition, putting the hero plus three opponents in a diagram that looks like a box. The hero goes in the top left corner, the opponents in the other three. Then arrows drawn between each character helps you visualize something important, that your conflict will come from several directions and present different problems for the main character. At the heart of all this, Truby asserts that the conflicts should not only be physical, but should be based on the opponents' roles in challenging the hero's values or weaknesses. 

 

Ta-da. Instant plot that reveals the hero's inner psyche contours. Instant sub-plots between several characters that relate to the big picture, the hero's journey through his trials. 

 

And, since the hero's weaknesses are challenged by the opponents, not just his physical strength, the hero must deal with those weaknesses as well as the fists or bullets coming his way. And there you've got the hero who, after saving the day, has a revelation, some mental change in which he deals with that weakness.

 

Like maybe overcoming a childhood fear of animals. Or getting over some irrational and potentially destructive mental problem, like a pit bull whose issues include the desire to attack water. Ah, the contours. So many depths to plumb. 

 

If you have any other tips or tricks about getting that hero into big trouble, or a favorite movie or book scene you like that shows the hero in conflict, please share.  

 

I highly recommend Mr Truby's book. I don't know him and certainly have no personal interest in the sale of his books, CDs and other teaching materials. But if you'd like to check them out, they can be found here.