Death on Deadline

No good ideas today? Fry up a batch of bacon!

2012-01-16T09:40:00.000-08:00

Other people get great ideas in the shower. I get mine frying bacon.

I don't know why. Maybe it's the mesmerizing sizzle. Maybe it's the fact that I'm just a captive audience for so many minutes - watching, flipping and adjusting the slices so they don't scorch - in a peaceful kitchen so early in the morning.

And it's not brain surgery.

So there I stand, sipping coffee, and I can hear the kids giggling downstairs and the dog causing trouble in the other room but here in the kitchen it's nice and quiet.

I start thinking.

My new book will take place in the Bible belt. Wouldn't it be interesting to have a character in my latest book who quoted Scripture constantly?

Should I include "The Chesire Cat" in my "Great Smiles in Art" presentation that I'm giving to the third graders this week? It's not technically art ... but I bet they'd love it.

I wonder if I could have a book launch party at a real newspaper?

Should I be making cinnamon rolls to go with this bacon?

You get the idea - Pretty soon, I'm pretty motivated for the day. I don't make bacon every morning, of course. But now I'm thinking, maybe I should.

Jim, James, John ... help! I'm suffering from character drift!

2012-01-04T17:47:00.000-08:00

So I failed miserably at NaNoWriMo this year - you know, National Novel Writing Month. I barely even made a dent in a new project. But I did do something right - I ordered the book "No Plot? No Problem" by Chris Baty, the original founder of the annual program.

It's a great book - it's funny, motivating, filled with lots of tips and writing tricks. And through it, I found out that I'm not only one who suffers from a little something that Chris refers to as "character drift."

Maybe you suffer from it, too. It occurs when a character starts off as a Tim, then becomes Tom, and finally ends up as Jim. For me, I've found it happens not so much with first names, but with last.

With my latest project, poor Betsy McMichaels in chapters one, two and three became Betsy McWilliams in chapters eight and nine. Of course, as long as you know you do it, it's easy enough to watch for - now I keep a list of my characters posted - easy to see and check.

You know, I should have known I had a tendency toward character drift. After all, in ninth grade science, I was assigned a semester report on codeine and ended up doing a big report on cocaine.

I still got the credit, but it just wasn't the same. The teacher looked at me like I was high on both.

What if you woke up and found you didn't exist (online)?

2011-12-30T09:21:00.000-08:00

Being a self-published author most definitely has its ups and downs. When you check your numbers and find out you made a sale - an actual sale, maybe even a few! - that's a fun day. Those are the days you do a little happy dance in your chair.

And when you launch a new book with a beautiful cover, that's a great day, too. My latest book, Magic, Miracles & Mistletoe, has a wonderful cover created by Dreamscape Covers. My first book, Death on Deadline, has a striking cover designed by my uber-talented friend Claire Innes-Wilbur.

(I'm always amazed at what artists can do with my stilted descriptions).

But days aren't always fabulous - take the day I released Magic, Miracles & Mistletoe. I bounded over to goodreads.com - which I think is an absolutely essential web site for authors (and readers, too)- and found I didn't exist.

Nope, no sign of me. My books were gone, my blog was gone, my profile was gone - even my NAME was gone. What the ..?!! When I tried to look it up I got a unfriendly "Page Unavailable" notice.

I'd been ... erased. Ouch.

My author friends said not to worry - it was likely a temporary glitch. The support staff said they'd work on it. And still, weeks later ... nothing. Finally, one book showed up - with Author Unknown. I fixed it, and added the other myself. I redid my bio. Added another photo.

I still don't have my author page, so I'm applying for a new one. My blog is still gone, so I'm just importing this one - and I hope if you followed it, you'll follow it again. : )

I'm not exactly doing a happy dance ...but I'm fixing it, piece by piece.

Writing in the third person is so addicting (she exclaimed)

2011-12-10T18:56:00.000-08:00

I've never written stories in the third person before. Well, that's not true - exactly. I wrote news stories in the third person for years. But they didn't count, because they were true.

So let me start over. I've never written fiction in the third person before. But about a month ago, long after most sane authors were putting the finishing touches on their Christmas stories, I got a little bug in my ear to start a few holiday tales of my own. Nothing fancy, mind you. Just a few fun stories that would quite literally feature a Christmas spirit or two.

I bounced a few story ideas off my long-suffering husband, then laid in bed plotting out character names, cities and even cars. Then I tentatively started writing. And I started, determinedly, in the third person.

I expected long moments with my hands on the keyboard, simply waiting for inspiration. I expected clunky dialogue and strange interactions. I expected ... problems. But they didn't happen. On the contrary. I had fun. A lot of fun. So much fun I found myself thinking in the third person even when I wasn't writing - always dangerous territory.

I just wrapped up my stories, and I'll be publishing them soon in a little novella titled "Magic, Miracles & Mistletoe."

"I hope you'll give it a read," she said, wandering toward the kitchen for yet another cup of coffee.

Dang! See what I mean? Really. So much fun . . . .

Sharing a commute with the undead makes the drive go faster

2011-12-01T18:22:00.000-08:00

I've been spending my commute with the undead, and it's sure improving the drive. Well, they're not right there, of course - unless other grim-faced commuters count. I actually ride into work alone. It's boring - a 45-minute straight shot on the highway, past storefronts, apartments, strip malls and even a few strip clubs.

I usually listen to news radio. I think. I plot my books. Plan dinner. Wonder why I work so far from home.

But not anymore. Now I'm listening to Home Improvement: Undead Edition, and I have to tell you - my commute isn't long enough. Last night, I even sat in the driveway for a few minutes, hoping to hear the end of a riveting tale by Heather Graham. (I didn't - but I clicked it on first thing this morning).

I never thought I'd like audio books. I thought I wouldn't be able to keep track of the plot ... after all, I had traffic to watch, right? But it's not that hard, really, no more difficult than focusing on a radio news report. And I can always click back if I need anything repeated.

And listening to an anthology of scary stories by great authors makes the time go soooo much faster.

I've toyed with the idea of making my own book, Death on Deadline, an audio book. I have no idea where to begin, of course. But now that I know how fun they are to listen to, the inspiration to create one just got that much stronger.

Creativity, helpful friends and happiness: For these, I'm thankful

2011-11-20T09:22:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write a Thanksgiving post for a few days now, and I've had some trouble starting. Not because I have so little, but because I have so much. Now, if you had told me a few years ago I might have this problem, I likely wouldn't have believed you.

Because I was angry. And sad. I had lost my sister, my journalism career had ended, and all my pets died. It wasn't a good year, to say the least.

My creativity, my saving grace, disappeared. Just vanished. I could barely lift my head, much less craft a tantalizing sentence. Oh, I tried. But let's face it, as writers, we know when we suck.

I had a manuscript in my desk, a murder mystery that I had fully intended on sending out to literary agents. But after awhile, I forgot about it. The only thing that got me out of bed was my family. One day, my husband found my novel. "You should do something with this," he said. "After all, you wrote it."

I did, I thought. And I realized I didn't want to spend my time writing queries. So I published it myself. And people actually bought it and liked it. I was incredibly excited and gratified. I started writing some more. I read blogs about writing. I started my own. I met helpful authors, authors I really admired who wrote incredibly helpful blogs like thewritersguidetoepublishing.com and jakonrath.com

I'm not a bestselling author, not by a long shot. But I write every day. And I learn something every week. I'm creating. I'm happy. For that, I'm very thankful.

Do ads add up to a better blog? I wonder ...

2011-11-12T08:18:00.000-08:00

When I was a reporter, I had a certain feeling about advertisements: Yuck. Advertorials? Even worse. Fill those pages with good, solid news content. Let "other people" worry about bringing in the bucks.

But I'm not a reporter anymore. My personal writing now is for blogs and books - I have two blogs and a book that sells for 99 cents. My book sales are pretty steady - and I'm grateful for every sale - but at that price, I certainly won't get rich. The blogs are all content-based, and I like it that way. I've seen blogs with giveaways, lots of ads, etc., and I think that's fine - just not for me.

Or so I've always thought. But now I wonder ... am I just being old-fashioned?

After all, a content-based blog doesn't bring in any money. Ads do. And it's hard to pay the bills on your high principles. So now I'm keeping a closer eye on the ads I see on blogs. Are they worth it? I know it's a lot of work, getting sponsors and such, but I've talked to some bloggers who say it's a nice way to make money doing something you like. Am I just being snooty, not working toward that?

I waffle, both ways. And I wonder. What makes a better blog?

Discouraged? Change your publishing perspective

2011-11-02T17:15:00.000-07:00

I was skimming through writing blogs the other night when I came upon a post titled, "Keep your expectations low."

It stopped me cold - I had to read more. The post was about self-publishing, and the author, a young writer, was advocating realism. He was disappointed in the sales of his self-published book and in the feedback he had received. He was thinking that perhaps he expected too much from self-publishing.

I understood his point of view. But I just couldn't embrace it. I think I would have gone with, "Alter your strategy," or "Expand your network," or maybe even "Change your point of view."

After all, most of us don't write to sell, even though sales are wonderful. We write because we're writers. We love it. It's what we do. That comes first.

And c'mon - you finished a book! And people are reading it!! Maybe not as many as you like, but still. That's a pretty amazing starting point right there.

So let's not lower our expectations - at least not yet. Let's tweak that perspective first.

Drained of creativity? Maybe it's ... vampires

2011-10-15T16:58:00.001-07:00

Do you believe in vampires? No? Okay, then ... what about psychic vampires?

After all, it's that time of year when the skies are getting darker and the leaves are scratching like fingers at the windowpane - it seems a post about a not-so-familiar monster is quite appropriate.

Especially since this creature is one that writers should take special care to avoid.

These aren't vampires in the classic sense - they don't have fangs, they don't turn into bats, they sure don't sparkle in the sunlight and they're not brooding or sexy.

They're leeches, but they don't suck your blood. They're emotional vampires. They steal your life force, your creativity.

I know, I know, it sounds crazy on first read. But think about it: Aren't there those people who just seem to drain you? Who are simply toxic? Who seem to grow stronger even as they drain every ounce of creativity you possess? After an encounter, you feel tired - they walk away smiling and whistling.

I read up on them ... they're actually called psychic vampires. Sure, some versions are more literal than others, but they're all out there.

Truthfully, I thought of this post because I actually think I've met a few lately - in one form or another. After only a few conversations I realized they had completely exhausted me - to the point where I actually felt I needed a nap. It was creepy.

Maybe it's my imagination getting the best of me - after all, the glow of the sun is fainter each day; the wind blows colder each night.

But still, I'm getting a little extra rest, and I'm a little more wary when I share my best ideas.

I need all the energy I can get.

Good night, inner editor - see you soon

2011-09-27T19:52:00.000-07:00

I know some writers who put together their stories line by line, winging it, with no idea where their characters will lead them.

Not me. Maybe it comes from years of working on deadline, but I like to have a plan.

In fact, it may sound boring, but I usually know what will happen in my stories, chapter by chapter, until the very end. Oh, I don't know every sentence and every bit of dialogue, of course, but I have my scenes laid out pretty firmly in my head before my fingers ever hit the keyboard.

But not this week. I'm trying something new. I'm putting away that internal planning guide and starting fresh each night. Will I feel more creative if I start that new chapter without an outline in my head? Or will it overwhelm me? I'll soon find out.

Why mess with my process? Well, in my latest project, I've been finding myself stifled - by silly, stupid things. Was this character a boyfriend or a cop, or both? How did this character get out of jail on a Saturday?

The devil was in the details, and the details were overtaking my plot - and my good sense. So I've decided to put my inner editor to bed for awhile and see what happens.

Wish me luck.

Even if the words won't come . . .

2011-09-17T21:44:00.001-07:00

On nights like these, I try to remember what one of my favorite editors used to say: "Even if it's crap, just get it on the page."

Because if it's not on the page, you'll never be able to change it.

Is creativity a muscle or a vessel?

2011-09-10T11:14:00.001-07:00

I work with a woman who has a really boring job. It's not a secret. She knows it - we've laughed about several times.

But the other day, we happened to start talking about non-work stuff, and somehow, we got onto a rather impassioned discussion about the book Twilight.

She is an avid fan. My tastes lean a little more toward Sookie Stackhouse and her vampire world.

But during the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she has a fine arts degree. She wanted to be an artist, and on the weekends, she still is very creative. She doesn't mind that her job is boring, she told me. If it wasn't, she'd give away too much creativity to leave any for herself.

I've been thinking about that for awhile. I can't decide if I agree with her. I guess I've always thought of creativity as a muscle that became stronger every time you used it, not as a vessel that you had to worry about emptying.

But I'll admit, when I was a journalist and I wrote and developed stories every day, I was pretty zapped by the weekend. By Saturday, I didn't really feel like writing my own stories. I did, though. And I feel like it made me a better writer.

Now, I'm on on the fence - but I'm still leaning toward my original view.

Any thoughts?

Bad day? Keep writing, keep pushing

2011-08-29T19:58:00.000-07:00

In self-publishing, there are some days when you feel like you've got it going on. Your sales are up. You scored a good review. You wrote another chapter in that new novel. You're doing great.

This was not one of those days.

This was one of those days when you're reminded of Sisyphus, the hapless king in Greek mythology who was doomed to spend each day pushing a heavy boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down to the bottom at the beginning of the next.

It's one of those days when everything goes wrong - your links are broken, your computer is frozen and you don't have time to fix anything because after all, this isn't what you do for a living. And you sigh and wonder what it would be like to have an agent and a publicist and a therapist and manicurist and whatever the hell big-name authors get.

And then you tell yourself to shut up because no one likes a whiner. You fix what you can and get help for what you can't. You write, late at night if you have to, and keep writing until that chapter is finished.

You wake up the next day ready to start over because you're not a quitter, you're a writer. An author, even. And you smile at the other authors and you think once again that there ought to be a secret handshake because that's about the coolest thing you can be.

And you feel lucky.

When the business of writing intrudes on art

2011-08-22T17:49:00.000-07:00

I was way the heck out in Amish country, and I couldn't relax.

I was in a tiny cabin with no phone, no kids and no WiFi and yet, I couldn't stop fidgeting. I was supposed to be working on my latest fiction project. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, my mind was racing. I wanted to check my book sales. I wanted to see if an anticipated review had been posted. I wanted to check just one more thing off my list ...

I wanted, I realized with a sinking heart, to be a businessperson more than a writer.

My emphasis on marketing had worked too well. The business side of self-publishing was now intruding on the creative side. I had a story inside me I couldn't get out because I was too busy selling a different one.

Before I published my book, I would sit down and write just to write. I never thought about selling or strategizing. I wrote because I loved to write - not because I was selling anything. So what was wrong with me now?

The scales had tipped too far to one side, I realized. I needed balance. And it took me awhile - some quiet time, some thinking, and a few hard-won pages - to get things back to normal.

But I'll be more watchful from now on. Because when business overtakes art, it shows.

Authors helping authors: Just plain nice

2011-08-10T18:48:00.001-07:00

I can't say I've ever relied on the kindness of strangers, but I do appreciate it. As I feel my way through the maze of self-publishing, I'm constantly amazed by how nice so many of these other authors are.

Nice - now that's a word you hardly hear these days. But sometimes, it just fits.

Consider this: Angel Haze, a Canadian author who writes mysteries and thrillers, has her own website, of course. But she recently started a related blog where every Monday she promotes another indie author - like me. On her original site, she has a section where she offers resources - tips and books for self-publishing newbies - who can use all the help they can get. http://www.angelhaze.com

That's just nice.

Or this: R.J. McDonnell is a Pennsylvania-based musician and author who writes a lighthearted rock & roll mystery series. We started following each other on Twitter, and he took the time to tell me that the blog link I have up on my profile there is broken. (Ugh - I'd mistyped it). It was just a stupid mistake on my part, and it could have stayed that way for months. But he took the time to tell me.

That's just nice.

I've met plenty more, too - folks who took the time to send me e-mails or funny quips that took me by surprise and brightened an otherwise humdrum day. Writing is solitary, yes, but these fellow authors remind that there are times it doesn't have to be.

It takes a village to raise a (happy) writer

2011-08-01T18:02:00.000-07:00

So next on my list of challenges is making Death on Deadline into an audio book. And as usual, I have no idea what I'm doing.

So I'm taking it step by step. I realized right away I would need help with the technical stuff (of course). And I knew I'd need a voice for my protagonist, America Miles.

What I didn't know is she could be sitting nine floors up from me. Yep. In the middle of corporate-land, I work with an extremely talented actress. And all I had to do was ask for her help.

You know, it's amazing. Being an indie author, I pretty much thought I'd be using crayons to draw my book covers and burning holes into my eyes editing my own copy. I wondered if anyone would ever see my work ... I imagined my poor book buried in some Amazon pile of e-rejects.

But it really hasn't been that way. And the key, I think, is networking. I can't say it enough. Look around. Need something? Ask. Your friends and co-workers may be far more talented than you know. I'm extremely lucky - my former career in journalism brought me in touch with a wide variety of talented artists, editors and designers.

But I've met other talented people along the way, as well. Videographers, actors, marketers, other authors ... we help each other out whenever we can.

It really does take a village to raise a writer. And my village is growing. Yours can, too.

I really, really should be writing this week

2011-07-18T16:47:00.001-07:00

I should be writing this week. I really should be writing.

But ... I've been on the library waiting list for the newest mystery by Susan Wittig Albert, Mourning Gloria, and even though I swore I'd just read the first chapter, it's simply too good to put down.

And then my daughter received a gift card to Borders for her birthday, and while we were there this book called to me - called to me, I swear - from the shelf. It's titled Skirting the Grave by Annette Blair ... and, well, now, it's on my bedside table.

AND well, it is summer, and summer means there are tables upon tables of clearance books. I considered it an exercise in restraint I just picked up one bargain, a novel titled The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman. And no, it's not anywhere near Christmas, but hey, when it's this hot you do what you can to cool down, right?

Now believe it or not, there's a message on my machine that the new Carolyn Hart mystery I've been waiting for is in.

It's an embarrassment of riches, actually.

Which is kind of a shame.

Because I really, really need to be writing this week.

Spam: Mystery meat and a surprising folder

2011-07-13T19:42:00.000-07:00

I remember when Spam was just this mysterious meat product from Hormel. It came in a can and it had this weird gelatinous layer on top. I pretty much left it alone.

But now spam has a whole new meaning - it's that annoying junk mail people send you - you know, offers from a prince in Nigeria to share his bank account, a new sex device from Canada, and lots and lots of promotions.

I have a spam folder in my e-mail - I usually leave that alone, too. I mean ... it's spam, right?

Kind of. But today, at work, I realized it was really full of mail. Out of curiosity, I clicked on it.

Ohhhhh Noooooo!!

Here's a surprise: Non-spam stuff sneaks in there, too. I had a letter from a former colleague (I was wondering why he didn't respond!!) and two, count em, two queries from book bloggers who were interested in reviewing my book.

Luckily, they weren't terribly dated, and I could still respond. But it gave me a nasty start.

So I learned two things today: Check every folder in your e-mail. And don't screech loudly at work. People tend to stare.

You're not just a writer, you're Writer, Inc.

2011-07-09T09:22:00.001-07:00

It used to be pretty easy to pigeonhole ourselves professionally. He's a plumber, she's a dancer, I'm a writer.

It's not so simple anymore. The plumber has to be an accountant; the dancer is a nutritionist, and the writer... well, the writer has to be an entrepreneur.

I don't think it matters whether you have a high-powered agent or if you're going it alone. Writers today just don't have the luxury to sit in their garrets and polish their prose.

I thought they could - or, at least I could - for a long time. Then I met Susannah. Susannah is a high-powered exec in my building. She has sleek hair, wears tailored suits and is surgically attached to her Blackberry. On the surface, we have little in common.

I met Susannah during one of the endless rounds of meetings we both attend - she as a manager, me as a minion. I discovered she was funny, smart and a voracious reader. She found out I was an author. She bought my book, and she liked it.

And in her spare time, she gave me advice. You're a business, she told me - develop your product. Market yourself.

Me? What? The artist in me rebelled ... but my ego understood. So I listened. She told me about brands, about customers, about what works and what doesn't (This post, for instance? Waaaay too long).

Changing my perspective has helped immensely. My stories are the same, sure. But now the author thinks more like Majeske, Inc.

From newspaper to novel is quite a change

2011-07-03T07:30:00.000-07:00

I was a newspaper reporter for years. I was assigned stories (or better yet, thought of my own). I interviewed sources, taking notes and developing my own quick-write shorthand. Then I wrote up my story and turned it in.

It was edited by the copy desk, and it was usually published the next day. And that was that. It was very quick, and the process was fairly simple.

Oh, sure, we scheduled photos, and sometimes there were snags. Other times, there were big projects that took weeks, even months, but usually, things were very fast-paced. We had a daily product to fill, after all.

I longed for the days when I could write my own stories, with my own characters. I'd build my own worlds, create my own dialogue, set my own twisty-turny plots.

Now I'm doing it. And you know what? It's ... hard. Anyone who writes fiction will likely agree with me. I'm realizing, belatedly, that it's much easier when your story is laid out in front of you, when your quotes are given to you, and when your characters are standing right in front of you. Starting with a blank slate is freeing, yes, but a bit overwhelming, too.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining. I still love it. But it's a change that has definitely taken a little getting used to.

So close ... to fame on Amazon

2011-06-28T16:30:00.001-07:00

For just a few minutes there, I was almost famous. I was so close.

See, I called up Death on Deadline on its Amazon page to see if I had any more reviews posted (I have a few pending) and my jaw dropped in amazement.

There, right by MY book, my hard-scrabble indie little baby, was an Amazon seal of approval. YES! It was right there! It was GOLD! And it said "Best of 2011 So Far." Really? Seriously?

I did my traditional seated happy dance, but it wasn't enough. I almost got up to do my standing-up happy dance when I stopped. Wait a minute. There was a little box around the seal. Like ... maybe ... it didn't go with my book. Like ... maybe ... it was just kind of a misleading little ad. Misleading in my favor, sure, but still.

I looked closer and read the small print. Oh. It was just an ad for Kindle books in general. More expensive Kindle books by traditionally published authors. Dang it.

I suddenly flashed back to junior high school, to walking down the hallway to algebra class. "Hey," I hear. I see the most gorgeous basketball star ever to walk the halls of Benjamin Franklin Junior High flashing his trademark grin and walking over to me. Me? The big nerd? I stop in my tracks, swallow hard and smile back tentatively. I keep smiling, too, as he walks past me to link arms with the gymnastics star standing right behind me.

Dang it. I was so close.

Finished your book? Start the next one!

2011-06-26T16:32:00.000-07:00

I had a terrifying question asked of me the other day. Oh, it didn't start out scary. It just ended that way.

"Hey, I liked your book," read a comment in my e-mail. I did a little happy dance in my chair. "What's America doing next?"

America is America Miles, the protagonist in Death on Deadline. And right now, she's waiting on me.

And it's all my fault.

I should have listened to my husband. He told me months ago - right after I published Death on Deadline - that I needed to start working on my next book. I just shrugged. And glared.

"I will, I will," I told him. "I JUST finished. That's like asking a new mom when she's having another baby."

Geez. How rude.

Well, I hate to admit it (because wives are always right, of course) but he wasn't rude. He was right. I should have been writing.

Because now I'm late. And my fingers are flying double-time. So don't wait. And don't be offended. Just write.

It's writer mom vs. kids this summer

2011-06-23T08:35:00.000-07:00

There are two camps in my household these days. One camp is trying to finish a book and is on a self-imposed deadline. The other camp is on summer vacation and has no deadlines whatsoever.

The camps are not particularly compatible.

One camp is trying to create compelling, creative prose. The other camp is tearing apart the basement looking for Spongebob goggles that may or may not actually exist.

The first camp is doing her best to create a humorous book of essays, knowing that humor is a delicate, subjective topic that must be crafted with just the right amount of tact and dignity. The second camp is learning to do cartwheels in the living room and shouting things like "Lookit mom!!lookit mom!!lookit mom!!lookit mom!!"

The first camp is realizing why famous writers of old often turned to the bottle or ran away to desert islands to think. And while she won't do either of these things, she also is realizing that deadlines are flexible and kids are only kids once.

The first camp is waving the white flag. The second camp is just wondering why there aren't more Doritos in the house.

Seriously - can marketing yourself be fun?

2011-06-20T18:51:00.000-07:00

At the end of an email the other day, a potential reviewer wished me well on my book sales. "Isn't it fun?" he added.

All day, I couldn't stop thinking about his comment.

Fun? Seriously? We're talking self-publishing, right? You know - selling books, getting reviews, developing your brand, all that. It's marketing, and that's necessary. But fun?

Writing is fun for me. Creating a story, building a new world, finding those twists and turns that keep readers spellbound - now that's fun. Marketing ... well, fun wouldn't be the first word I use to describe it. But I'm starting to wonder if I'm judging too hastily.

Are there others out there who have as much fun with marketing as I do with writing? Is there a way to have the best of both worlds? Maybe it's just a change of perspective. Maybe it's more. Either way, I think it's time to find out.

Lesson learned: Lunch before book reviews

2011-06-16T19:52:00.001-07:00

So I've been working recently to get book reviews for Death on Deadline. And as a publishing newbie, it's taken me some time to figure out how it's done.

But finally - success! I received a few emails the other day from interested reviewers. Would I mind sending them copies? One requested a .mobi file, the other epub.

Naturally I didn't mind. I was delighted. I ... just wasn't quite sure how to do it. And I wanted to make sure I did it right, so I didn't look like a doofus. I didn't want the first line of the review to be how difficult it was receive the book in the correct format.

So I woke up extra early the next morning. I downloaded the versions (very easy) then took a break for the morning routine - getting the kids fed and dressed and off to school. But I was so excited, I couldn't leave well enough alone. I kept fussing with my emails, messing with the computer. I was just about finished, though, and it was almost time to leave for school, when my young son came by and looked at me accusingly.

"Where's my lunch?" he asked me, looking in his backpack. "Did you forget to make my LUNCH?"

Um...oops. He glared at me. "Are you playing on the computer in the morning? We're not allowed to play on the computer in the morning!"

Busted. I had to run his lunch over later, parking in a no-parking zone and getting yelled at by the meanie in the school office.

There's a few lessons that can be learned here, but perhaps the most important one is this: School lunches before book reviews.

Amazon promotion sparks inner debate

2011-06-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

Last week, Amazon quietly launched its big Sunshine Deals promotion, and my inner writer and reader began to argue.

If you haven't heard - and you probably have - Sunshine Deals is a promotion between Amazon and some traditional publishers, allowing Amazon to sell 600+ e-books by big-name authors for cheap, cheap, cheap (99 cents, $1.99 and $2.99) until June 15.

It's a great way to fill up your Kindle. In fact, that's the whole marketing campaign.

And so the reader inside me was ecstatic. Despite all the hype, bestsellers for Kindle often aren't really that cheap, at least not for skinflints like me. I mean, they're more inexpensive than the hard covers, sure, but they're not as drop-dead cheap as we might have been led to believe when e-readers first went on sale. (At least that's my opinion).

But the writer inside me - whiny little thing that she is - wasn't quite so thrilled. I'm a writer, after all. And I'm selling my e-book on Kindle for 99 cents. I have enough competition with other indie writers. Do I really need the big-name guys horning in on my price range? They have agents, publicists, probably massage therapists. Sheesh. Don't they get enough breaks as it is?

My inner writer was not pleased at all, no sirree.

But then I began perusing the site. I started shopping. I began filling up my Kindle with bargains. I realized I couldn't get mad at any promotion that promotes reading.

And I also realized the promotion hasn't really affected my sales. Hmm. Maybe me and the big boys don't share the same readership. Yet. : )

Writing? In this weather? Umm, maybe ...

2011-06-05T09:07:00.000-07:00

Remember when you were in school and the sun would be shining and it would be warm outside, and everyone would raise their hands and say, "Can we have class outside today?!"

I'm getting that feeling all over again.

I've read a couple of posts from writers lately, talking about how the fresh, warm weather has sparked their creativity. I envy them. I'm finding myself distracted.

I love to write, sure. I need to. I have projects thisclose to being finished. And I have fun projects I want to start.

But after a long, cold Midwestern winter and an incredibly soggy spring, it's finally sunny and warm outside. I'm reveling in it. I can't get enough of the sunshine. I want to swim in the pool. I want to garden. I want to simply sit outside. I want to teach myself to take nature photos so when winter inevitably arrives again, I'll have a way to remember this time.

But I need to write. So I'm thinking of taking my laptop outside for a little bit of a compromise. And I'm forcing myself to focus.

Because if you'll remember, we didn't often get to have class outside.

It takes a village to raise an indie writer

2011-05-16T18:49:00.000-07:00

I made a book trailer the other day for my book, Death on Deadline. It is 60 seconds long, and I forgot the words about seven times. It was shot by a professional videographer on his lunch break.

I'm paying him in cupcakes and effusive thanks.

My book cover was created by a friend (Claire Innes-Wilbur)who happens to be an extremely talented graphic artist. Her payment? My everlasting gratitude.

My book was edited literally dozens of times - by my husband, by my writer and editor friends and even by my ever-patient sisters. When it came time to format and post it, I was lost. My good friend Traci Bauer, who helps manage a daily newspaper, takes night classes and spends literally no time on herself, came to my rescue.

My next book cover is being drawn by an accomplished artist friend, Chuck Todd. He has a wonderful children's book out that he illustrated - There's a Hummingbird in my Backyard - and he and I are working out ways to cross-promote each other. I'm incredibly excited.

Writers - especially indie ones like me who are just starting out - need help. I'm happy to say we can often find it. I've found the indie authors I've met to be incredibly supportive.

The people who have helped me have been absolutely wonderful, even when I pestered them with e-mails and shoved sentence after sentence in their face, insisting they choose which feels better.

I talked to a good friend the other day, and when I mentioned to her that my book sales were up that month, she expressed surprise. Then she quickly explained herself. "It's just, well... there are so many e-books out there," she said.

I agreed. There are. And some are absolutely terrible. But many aren't.

With the right village of support around you, it's a lot easier to help readers tell the difference.

Write what you know - but know a lot

2011-04-06T19:19:00.001-07:00

Write what you know - isn't that what we're told all the time?

But I wonder about that advice. I understand the premise, but I think it falls just a bit short. After all, if I wrote what I knew on a daily basis, I'd be penning a fascinating tome on cubicles and cafeteria lines. Isn't the real trick to stretch and learn and know more?

When I wrote Death on Deadline, I put my protagonist in a newsroom because I was a reporter for so many years. I felt confident in that environment. That's what I knew. But I needed more drama - more mayhem. However ... I hadn't killed any editors. (Although I'd been tempted.) So I researched poisons, contemplated motives, debated logistics.

I think I was starting to give my husband the creeps, but in the end, I did feel like I was writing what I knew - just in a different way.

I didn't realize how important believability in fiction was until I heard something that rang false.

I attended a writing group once where a young man brought his manuscript; he read aloud from a part where a woman received a prenatal ultrasound. But it was obvious he had no idea how an ultrasound worked. I was pregnant at the time, and this bothered me immensely. But when I politely questioned his description, he was openly hostile.

"That's how it works in my book," he said stubbornly. Fine, I thought. But will it work for your readers?

New projects go word by word, bird by bird

2011-03-27T09:20:00.000-07:00

Starting a new writing project can be so daunting. All those ideas in your head, waiting to be organized. All those blank pages. All that ... nothingness.

I think it's so hard to start over. In fact, I try not to even think of it that way, to even use those words. I try to look at it as just more storytelling, another chance to share what I'm thinking with a new group of friends.

I take it page by page, sentence by sentence, word by word, if I have to.

For motivation, I think of a story from one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. She tells this story in her wonderful bestseller, Bird by Bird:

"My older brother, who was 10 at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three months to write, which was due the next day. We were out at the family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird."

Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.

When do deadlines really become deadly?

2011-03-20T19:56:00.001-07:00

Years ago, I watched a cocky young reporter have a meltdown while covering a major election. The clock was ticking, editors were hovering and he realized, suddenly and sickeningly, that no coursework had prepared him for pressure like this.

He started to cry. Then he started to hyperventilate. It wasn't pretty.

And this was when newspapers were relatively fat and happy, when seats were filled and shareholders were content. Not like now, when executives have sliced and diced newsrooms, leaving only the few, the brave and the very, very tired.

I was thinking about that the other day as I read David Callahan's piece in The Huffington Post, one that analyzed the case of Sari Horwitz - the Washington Post reporter recently suspended for plagiarism that occurred while she was covering the Arizona shootings.

See, Horwitz isn't some young hotshot. She's a Pulitzer Prize winner. And in her apology, Horwitz mentioned the stress of the tight deadlines she was under. But plagiarism? This is ... worrisome.

I don't know Horwitz; I don't know anything about the situation. But I know deadlines. I know that feeling of rising panic and the power it takes to quell it. I still remember how my heart would start beating faster and how I would count backwards to calm myself and slow things down. I know the feeling of how everyone is counting on you and how you better not screw up.

I don't work in a newsroom anymore. I can't even imagine how tough it is today - with staffs that are skeletal and expectations that are still sky-high.

I would never condone plagiarism, obviously. It's inexcusable. In Death on Deadline, plagiarism and the power of information are a big part of the story. That's fiction, of course. But I have to wonder if the issues caused by tight deadlines and corporate cutting might just be bleeding into real life.

E-book world is easy, even for techno-saurs

2011-03-09T19:34:00.000-08:00

I'll be the first to tell you I'm a writer, not a salesperson. And I'm sure not the technical type.

But I finally, yes finally, put my book up for sale in Amazon's Kindle store. I had hemmed and hawed forever. I thought it would be too technical. I wouldn't know what to do. I'd get confused. Blah, blah, blah ... excuse, excuse, excuse. Then one day, I just realized that nobody was going to do it for me.

So I ventured tentatively onto the KDP site, the Kindle Digital Platform for self-publishing. http://kdp.amazon.com
After a few false starts, I uploaded my book. Just. Like. That. It was actually pretty easy, even for a techno-saur like me. And I'm even selling a few copies - not only here, but on Kindle UK. (Go figure). Maybe I'll be realy popular in Europe - you know, the David Hasselhoff of self-publishers, if you will. Or ... not.

So if your e book is completed and you just have a case of nerves, take a deep breath and dive in. It's really not that bad. I swear.

Patience is a virtue - currently remodeling

2010-11-25T10:21:00.000-08:00

Oh my patient Death on Deadline readers - I must tell you this. We are temporarily renovating this site. That's why I haven't had any posts lately. And I should have had something on here sooner. So I do apologize.

No, no, it's not like the Dunkin Donuts down the street, which said it was renovating and then never opened up again. (So annoying). I'm just rethinking the format - you know, what I want this site to include, and what I want it to be.

So if you have any ideas, please let me know. (I always read the comments.)And in the meantime, please feel free to mosey over to my newest site, http://momswrites.blogspot.com, where I'm trying to add lots of fun content all the time. (And still welcome advice, since I am a newbie blogger, trying to create things fun to write and interesting to read).

It's NaNoWriMo time - start writing!

2010-11-02T19:51:00.000-07:00

This year, I swore I'd do it. And I'm already running behind. But that's okay ... I'm pretty good on deadline.

I'm talking about NaNoWriMo, of course - National Novel Writing Month. It runs from Nov. 1 to Nov. 30, and the goal is to write a 50,000 word novel by the time you're through. The deadline is the impetus here - by writing as much as you can as fast as you can, you don't have time to tweak or second-guess yourself. You don't have time to listen to that little voice in your head that tells you that you can't do it.

You just write. And write and write. Will you write a bunch of crap? Maybe. But you're setting your imagination free. And you'll be creating - instead of just thinking about creating. That's a pretty big accomplishment. Who knows where it could lead?

I have a lot of friends who participate happily every year in NaNoWriMo. They gleefully tell me how horrible their creations are. Until one year ... they weren't that bad. Then last year, well, one was pretty good. And sometimes, a few of those friends can't stop writing once they start.

You can even sign up officially at www.nanowrimo.org and get a word count widget, check word counts all over the world, and get motivation from other writers tearing their hair out all in the name of literature on demand.

I think it sounds like pretty crazy fun. So what are we waiting for?

Say it proud, say those words out loud

2010-10-24T20:03:00.000-07:00

If you really want to know if you've written something that resonates, try this little test: Read it out loud. Sure, you might feel a little silly, but do it anyway. It works.

We all know that the written word has its own cadence, its own rhythm and flow. But when we're caught up in the moment, in the drama or comedy of storytelling, we sometimes forget. We're so busy thinking about the story, we forget about the sound. And if our words trip up our readers, they'll never make it through the first few paragraphs.

Or we'll sound ridiculous.

Case in point: When I was writing one of the first drafts of Death on Deadline, (I cleaned out the basement recently and only then realized how many times I rewrote the thing), I had put in this scene where two of the main characters were in an area of the newspaper that used to be called the morgue. They were discussing their mean-as-a-snake editor, who'd just been taken from his office on a stretcher. They didn't know that a third character was standing in the dark, listening, until he spoke. They exchanged a few sentences, and then - caught up in the drama - I had the third character say this doozy:

"He's dead," he said instead.

I thought it sounded terse and dramatic - until I read it out loud. Only then did I realize it sounded like a morbid Dr. Seuss couplet. Naturally, I changed it.

Give it a try. You may be surprised what your words sound like coming from your own mouth.

Not everyone will love your writing (it's ok)

2010-10-17T16:47:00.001-07:00

There comes a time in writing when you wonder, quite bluntly, if you suck.

Maybe you've received two or three rejection letters. Maybe your editor has done a hatchet job on your piece. Maybe you've just been uninspired lately, and you're contemplating entering the field of retail.

Let me share, then, this story: I entered a short story contest recently. (I'll end the suspense for you now and tell you I didn't win). But part of the entry fee was a critique by two judges. Well, okay, I thought. That sounds pretty good. Usually, I only force relatives to give their opinion, and since they pretty much know I want their opinion to be "I love it!" I figured it might be nice to get an unbiased view.

I sent in 10 pages of a story. I received my critiques.

I was rated on a scale of 1 to 10 - higher being better, naturally. The first judge gave me 5s across the board. I think my highest score was a mere 7, for my spelling and grammar. (On this I had to quibble. I may not be able to write, dear judge, but I am a fine speller).

She had one comment: "Use a different font." I don't think I wowed her.

As a matter of fact, after reading her critique, I double-checked to make sure she read my story. It was good!!! Wasn't it?? Or ... maybe not.

Then I read the second critique. It scored 9s across the board. At the bottom, the second judge had scrawled, "I love this!!! I would buy this!!!"

I love this judge!! Me and this judge should be best friends!!! Now here is someone who understands me.

This story provides a perfect example of why you probably don't suck on those days when you think you do. Writing and publishing is rife with subjectivity. What one person hates another may love. So what's a writer to do?

Just keep writing. You'll find that second judge.

Look to books for some humor therapy

2010-10-10T19:41:00.000-07:00

Love may be the universal language, but laughter surely has to come in a close second.

When I'm stressed or feeling blue, I head straight for the bookshelves and a little humor therapy, courtesy of some of my favorite authors. If you haven't tried it, I heartily recommend it. When everything seems to be going wrong, a good belly laugh or even a few stifled giggles can make all the difference.

I started reading Laurie Notaro's I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies) while I was sitting on a bench at a very hoity-toity dance studio waiting for my daughter to finish her overpriced ballet lessons that she ended up hating. I tried, really tried, to contain myself, but I burst out laughing several times. The other mother's glares told me how inappropriate it was, and I suppose I could have stopped reading, but it was too good and I couldn't help myself.

Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent was another tome that had me giggling through my hand. I felt surprise - and relief - that there was someone else out there who sees all the strangeness in the world and doesn't mind getting a little snarky about it.

There's lots of other, of course - and not just non-fiction. I love it when fiction makes me laugh. Sarah Shankman, who wrote I Still Miss My Man (but my aim is getting better) is hilarious, and I love the Southern Sisters mysteries of the late Anne George.

But surprises - finding someone new and funny (or new to you and funny) - are the best. Consider this: Shirley Jackson, the author of the haunting short story The Lottery and uber-creepy The Haunting of Hill House, wrote a really funny memoir titled Life Among The Savages about her life with her husband, her "twenty children and half a million books." And a friend of mine recently loaned to me a little off-beat book called "Apathy," by Paul Neilan that she insists is "disturbingly funny."

I can't wait to find out.

Smile, lady - you're in chapter three

2010-10-04T19:52:00.001-07:00

There's this woman where I work who drives me crazy.

Oh, I don't know her name. I don't even know what department she works in. I just know that I have already cast her as a character in my next book.

Sometimes, I can't help it. I see a person in real life and I know - I just know - that they're a perfect character for one of my stories. One time I was sipping on a mocha in a Barnes & Noble cafe in Springfield, Mo., and I saw America Miles, the protagonist in my novel, Death on Deadline.

Yep, that woman sitting two tables across from me, flipping through a magazine and minding her own business, had come straight from my imagination. She had the hair. She had the bone structure. She even had that little worry line between her eyebrows. I couldn't stop staring. I was mesmerized. She finally looked up and gave me one of those little polite smiles - you know, the kind you give when some weirdo is looking at you - and I had to look away. But it was very exciting.

Not so much with this lady. I see her nearly every time I go to the cafeteria. Our cafeteria is big and it's busy and to my eyes, it looks a bit understaffed. So the men and women serving behind the counters are basically working at full tilt to keep everything running smoothly.

So this lady - whom I have cast as perhaps a pretentious, uncooperative clerk - usually minces in with a self-important swagger and then proceeds to bluster and bitch constantly in line, complaining about anything and everything until the person behind her is about ready to crack.

Unfortunately that person is usually me.

"Geez, these chicken nuggets are taking forever!!" she sighs after two minutes.
"No curly fries today? You'd think there'd be curly fries today," she pouts after three.
"I just don't see what the holdup is in these lines," she whines after four, shifting her considerable weight.
"I'm still here - it's just taking forever!!" she calls to her friend after five.

For the record, her meal is usually ready in about five minutes. Not that I'm counting.

Aaargh. It's so annoying. But I just stand quietly, practicing my calming zen breaths, studying her petulant red face and overly mascaraed eyes so I can describe them perfectly in my next story.

Meanwhile, the poor woman behind the counter is smiling politely, sweating profusely, just busting her butt trying to move everyone's orders through. Maybe I have it all wrong, though. Maybe I should be telling her story - perhaps a tale of revenge against annoying, unappreciative customers.

Psst. Hey, buddy, wanna buy a book?

2010-09-29T17:42:00.000-07:00

I thought writing the book would be the hard part. I never even thought about selling it. But that was long ago, before this brave new world that empowered authors to write, edit, publish and sell their own novels.

Don't get me wrong. I think it's great - it feeds my instant gratification gene. Being in newspapers for so long, I'm spoiled. I'm used to seeing my words in print practically the day after I write them. The time-honored tradition of query letters, agent meetings and ego-bruising rejection letters sounded not only frustrating but a little bit terrifying.

Ebooks are a great alternative. It's a simple, cost-effective format for a starving artist. And according to Amazon, sales are brisk - it sells about 180 ebooks a month compared to 100 hardcovers.

Of course, agents and publishers tend to know what they're doing. I'm flying blind. But here's the most challenging thing - I'm not a salesman. Not at all.

Remember that 1980s John Cusack movie, "Say Anything?" Well, there's this part where he's trying to explain to his soon-to-be-girlfriend's dad about his career motivations, and he says:

"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."

I feel for him. Because deep down, I just want to write. But I know I have to promote, or I might as well be writing in my diary. So I'm learning. I'm learning to tell people I wrote a book - and even add that they should read it - without blushing or squirming. I'm putting together my own press release. I'm watching. I'm reading. I'm figuring out how to market, to "brand." But it still feels strange.

"You have to make a decision," my husband tells me. "Do you want to be an author or don't you?"

Cough! Look over here! Oh, hi. Have you read Death on Deadline yet? It's on sale at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/deathondeadline for only $2.99. You should check it out.

I'll take some instant inspiration, please

2010-09-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

My daughter and I had just enjoyed a wonderful morning. We went to church, then visited the local farmers' market. On the way home, I came to some construction where the road narrowed down to one lane. I hit my left turn signal, the light turned green, and I pulled forward a little, waiting for the oncoming traffic to pass.

Behind me, a driver hit his horn as though his life depended on it. Long and loud that horn sounded, as the driver angrily waited for me to make my left turn.

My daughter was startled. "What's wrong with him?" she said anxiously.

I bit back the first reply that came to mind, which likely would have been along the lines of, "He's a jackass." Instead I just shrugged. "I guess he's just impatient."

We turned, he zipped forward, and life went on. But I kept thinking about that guy - and others like him - as the day went on. Coincidentally, or maybe not, I heard a lot of horns that day. Maybe I was just around a lot of impatient drivers. Or maybe we've all just lost the virtue of patience.

Oh, not just in driving. That's just part of it. But everything arrives in seconds these days - we expect it. We feel we're entitled to it. I've read several books lately by authors I used to really like, and I was sorely disappointed by their last works. I have to wonder - were they forced to work faster? Did they feel they had to? Did their contract require it? Or did they feel like their readers would forget them if they took too long?

I sat down to write the other night, hoping to put together a short story. I had an idea in my head, a vague outline, but I just couldn't figure out where it would take me. I tapped the keys a few times, created a tentative lead and put together a few paragraphs. But I quickly grew frustrated, impatient with my sluggish pace. I decided to do a few chores and come back later.

A glance at the kitchen clock surprised me. I'd given myself just over a half hour. It felt so much longer. With today's constantly frenetic pace, it's so hard to slow down and give our imaginations a chance. Some days, it's nearly impossible.

Yo, are your slang terms totally tubular?

2010-09-12T09:22:00.000-07:00

Let's talk slang. Current slang, old slang and the dreaded middle-aged slang.

I started thinking about slang recently when I found myself wandering the halls of the local middle school last week looking for my daughter who'd forgotten her new schedule. (Quick aside: if you'd ever like to feel about 110 years old, visit a middle school first thing in the morning in sweat pants with no makeup).

Slang is tough. We're talking about terms that are always changing and technically might not exist. If you write it wrong, your piece is automatically dated. It's like writing a character who has a dialect; you can't overdo it, and you have to do it right.

I found a term on www.urbandictionary.com just the other day that made me giggle: middle-aged slang. This is a term apparently used by young people when some fossil comes to their school to offer a motivational speech or promote a book, and peppers the talk with out-of-date terms that are supposed to draw in the crowd: ("What's up, Verne? You're looking totally tubular today!") Naturally, it just makes the audience snicker with youthful derision.

It reminded me of a newspaper I worked at years ago that decided to put out a weekly college insert. They titled it "Yo." I wasn't that many years out of college, but even I knew that was a big mistake.

Bad, out-of-date slang can be fatal in writing. When I do use it, I usually check it out with someone surrounded by it every day - like a student or teacher. Then I modify and modernize.

And as my daughter would say, I try not to get all emo about it.

500 words a night - can you do it?

2010-09-02T19:29:00.001-07:00

I think I may have finally found a way to kick my ever-present writing procrastination, and it's pretty simple - 500 words a night.

I'd love to take credit for it, but I can't. If it were up to me, I'd be up to my old tricks. I'd sit at the computer, determined to finish my chapter or story or essay. But then I'd answer some e-mail. And log onto Facebook. Then maybe I'd check into Twitter - just for a few minutes, I swear. But of course, by then, I'd be a little tired, or maybe somewhat restless. I could put off writing for another night, right?

Sure. Until those nights turned into weeks, or worse yet, months. Left untreated, procrastination is a nasty little habit.

Luckily, I have a friend in Sara Bennett Wealer. Wealer is a former reporter turned YA author whose first novel, "Rival," published by HarperTeen, is coming out in February and has already been creating quite a buzz. But Wealer's not resting on her laurels. She's already working on another book, writing 500 words a night whether the muse moves her or not. "Finishing a novel," she told me, "is sometimes akin to an endurance sport."

Don't let that pretty face fool you - Wealer is a dynamo. Her path to publishing is detailed on her Web site, www.sarabennettwealer.com, and believe me, that book contract didn't just fall into her lap.

So I figured she knew a little something about perseverance. And after all, how hard could 500 words be? Not hard at all, it turns out. Or really hard. It just depends on the night. But setting that goal, and keeping that goal, seems to make all the difference in the world to me.

Maybe it's all those years of working on deadline.

Bookworms, you are cool (again)

2010-08-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Bookworms, check it out. You are it, my friends.

According to a recent article in the New York Times, (in the Fashion & Style section, no less!), the rising popularity of E-Books is completely changing the way people read.

Not only are more and more people reading this way, but even more folks are watching them read.

See, everyone is so intrigued with the mobile gadgetry used, reading is no longer a solitary sport. When you're using your e-reader (according to those interviewed) people tend to stop by and check it out, ask you questions, see if you like it and enquire what you're reading.

We're talking Kindles, sure - but it's the new and different iPads (also capable of holding E-Books) that are really turning heads.

"Buying literature has become cool again," said Professor Paul Levinson of Fordham University, quoted in the article.

Go figure. I never knew it was uncool. But if that's what it takes to get folks reading, then I'm all for it.

Publishing newbie appreciates the help

2010-08-27T14:21:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to spend the day worrying about writing, blogging and selling my book. I wasn't. I had the day off. It was a beautiful morning. I thought I'd clean the house, watch the end of that romantic comedy I kept missing, and maybe go shoe shopping. I want to check out some of those new winter shoe-boot things, you know?

But then a couple of things happened. First, I checked my e-mail, because no matter what, you have to check your e-mail, right? But before I even got there, I was distracted. I noticed that on Yahoo, one of the trending topics was E-Books.

And since Death on Deadline, the aforementioned tome that I wouldn't be worrying about today, happens to be an E-Book, I felt somewhat obligated just to take a peek.

That's where it all started. You know, one article leads to two, and that leads you to something else interesting, and then before you know it, you're sitting at the computer typing up a blog entry when you really should be shoe shopping. But this time, I think it was worth it.

Because all my E-Book research - more on that later, since I've been told my posts are too long - led me to the blog of author JA Konrath, who, if you don't know, is the author of the best-selling Lt. Jacqueline Daniels "Jack Daniels" thrillers.

Well, he was writing about the rise of E-Books and the uncertainty they were causing in the publishing industry, and he mentioned that he sold 100 books a day on Kindle. I paused when I read that. I thought, "I'd walk across broken glass to sell 100 books a day on Kindle." But my book isn't even on Kindle yet. Oh, it will be - but I'm still figuring out how to put it there. Sure, it's other places - www.smashwords.com, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, etc. - but I want it on Kindle. I want it everywhere. But I'm still learning. And it's hard. So when I realized Konrath had a blog called A Newbie's Guide To Publishing, I about jumped for joy. (http://jakonrath.blogspot.com)

I'm sure I'm not the only newbie who feels lost most of the time and has no idea where to turn for help. I can't wait to start reading. Mr. Konrath, thanks for the help.

Dark, gloomy weather perfect for writing

2010-08-21T09:41:00.001-07:00

It's gray and grim outside, and I'm starting to accept that summer will truly soon be over.

But there is one bright side - I find these gloomy days particularly inspiring when it comes to writing. Somehow, when the sun is shining and the garden is calling and the pool is open ... it seems my motivation falls to the wayside.

Now I know there are some writers - well, I don't know them, but I've heard of them -who are bountiful, bottomless fonts of energy who never run out of ideas or lose their focus. Their ideas flow effortlessly from their fingertips to the page, no matter what's happening in the real world.

Unfortunately, that's not me. I must be far more easily distracted. The cooler, darker weather calms me, helps me focus somehow.

So today, as I ran out to do errands and saw the dark clouds piling up in the distance, I had to smile.

Bring it on. I could feel a few good ideas percolating already.

Judging this book by its cover paid off

2010-08-16T20:14:00.000-07:00

So how do you choose what you'll read next? Now, I'm not talking about the sure thing - a favorite author you've been reading for years, or that bestseller you've been waiting for weeks to open. That's too easy.

I'm talking about those days when you're a bit at loose ends, and you find yourself either at the library or the bookstore, trying to decide what next to place on your nightstand. Maybe you've finished all your favorites; maybe you're just in the mood to try something new. How do you decide?

I have to admit - the other day, I most definitely judged a book by its cover. Most of the time, I'm probably like you. I have my favorite authors, my favorite topics, and I tend to get a little set in my ways. But this past weekend, I was trolling the aisles at the local bookstore, and ... I just couldn't decide. I knew I wanted a mystery, but I really wasn't in the mood for anything in particular. But I wasn't not in the mood for anything in particular, if that makes sense.

So I just walked slowly, taking my time, studying all the titles. One book was a little askew, and the sky-blue spine caught my eye. I picked it up. The title was "A Timely Vision," and the authors were Joyce and Jim Lavene. Hmmm. I'd never read anything by them before. But the book cover was so ...beguiling. In the forefront were the reeds of a sandy bluff, and in the background, atop a hill, was a Victorian mansion. In the distance was a deep blue ocean, touching a nearly cloudless sky. And down by the authors' names, in front, nearly buried in the sand, was a woman's diamond watch.

I couldn't stop looking at it. Maybe because it looked so cool and comfortable, and it was a steamy, sticky 89 degrees outside the bookstore doors. Or maybe it's because I've always loved Victorians. Or heck, maybe it was just a pretty watch.

Whatever the reason, I read the first page. Then the second. By the third, I knew I'd buy the book, and by the end of the first chapter I knew I'd be looking to find out a little more about the authors. (You can, too, at www.joyceandjimlavene.com).

I know, not very scientific, right? But in this case, it paid off. I love finding new authors, and it was a great read. Sometimes, you just have to go by instinct.

Is writer a title we should have to earn?

2010-08-10T18:29:00.000-07:00

Are great writers born or made? And is there such a thing as a "true" writer?

I started thinking about these questions recently after I read a heartfelt essay in a literary magazine from a woman bemoaning the fact there were so many so-called writers around today. Just writing, she countered, simply stringing words together, doesn't necessarily make you a writer.

You only deserve the title if you truly understand the craft.

True writers had great passion, she said, a desire that shone through in their work. They loved words; they harnessed the power of language. They couldn't not write. In fact, she went so far to say that true writers (and I'm presuming she was talking about herself in this instance) actually felt pain when they were kept from writing.

I wasn't so sure about that last bit, but the rest of her words gave me pause.

I wonder about the inherent skills needed to become a writer. Do you have to be born with them, or can your desire to succeed overcome any obstacles you might encounter? And at what point can you bestow the title of "writer" upon yourself?

I once worked with a reporter who went through such agony every time he put together a story, I wondered why in the world he did it. Writing was truly work - physically and mentally. He'd squirm and sweat, mutter and swear. Ironically, he was a great reporter and an excellent interviewer. But when it came time to putting those words together and telling a story, he just didn't have that rhythm, that understanding, that lyrical cadence inside to make his stories sing.

He tried, but his end results didn't deliver. The words were there, but not the writing.

But he was a writer, was he not? He had the passion and drive - did his end results matter? Does a lack of skill negate the title? Is writer a title we should have to earn?

The quest of finding childhood favorites

2010-08-01T19:29:00.000-07:00

Years ago, I began trying to find my all-time favorite childhood books.

I'm such a hoarder, I'm surprised they ever got away from me in the first place. But somehow, over the years, they did. I guess I just stopped reading them. Maybe they ended up in one of those dreaded basement boxes. Maybe I gave them away. Somehow... they just disappeared.

A few years ago, I decided to find them. There was no real reason for my quest. My kids weren't particularly interested. I just wanted them. For comfort, maybe. Nostalgia, perhaps. Or maybe I just needed a good challenge.

Some of them were easy. Those "Misty of Chincoteague" books by Marguerite Henry? Piece of cake.

"Ghosts Who Went to School," by Judith Spearing? Well, my sister found that for me online. She tried to find a few others, like "The Nine Lives of Opalina," by Peggy Bacon, one of my favorite tales, about a ghost cat, and she succeeded - but it cost $250. "I wouldn't pay that for a real ghost cat," she informed me. "Sorry." So for that, we're still looking.

On other obscure favorites, we were lucky. "Go to the Room of the Eyes," by Betty K. Erwin? That was a toughie. But I found it, just lying on the floor of the bookstore section in my hometown library. I practically jumped up and down. The cashier was hardly as excited as I was - and I was never so happy to fork over 50 cents.

But one of my very favorite books comes with one of my favorite stories. The book is called "Mine for Keeps," by Jean Little, and I loved, loved, loved it when I was growing up. My obsession with it drove my family crazy. It was about a little girl who was handicapped who bravely made her way through a regular school. Something about that book just caught my imagination - I was that little girl. I made up imaginary games about her with me in the starring role. One time, I even took off with my grandmother's crutches for about an hour, completely forgetting she, um, really did need them. Mom lectured me. Grandma forgave me. But I still loved that story.

But the book was out of print - not even the libraries had it.

So when I was a reporter, a few years ago, I was doing a story on the expansion of a homeless shelter. I was waiting for my contact to meet me, and I was just nosing around the shelter's main area, a children's play area and social room. Naturally drawn to the bookshelves, I started reading the titles. And there it was, right in front of me: "Mine for Keeps." Oh, my goodness. What to do?? Offer to buy it?? And take a book from a homeless shelter? Um, no way. So I just stood there, holding it, lost in memories. The director walked up behind me and looked at me questioningly.

"This was my favorite book growing up," I said, my face turning red. I put it back on the shelf.

He took it out and looked at it. "Take it," he said. I stared at him, horrified.

"Um, I really couldn't," I said, and I meant it. He just laughed.

"It's pretty old," he said. "I don't think any of the kids here read it. They prefer 'Clifford' and 'Blues Clues' and 'Pokemon.'"

So we made a deal. I left my beloved book - and bought a few more modern favorites. I came back, and then we traded. Now "Mine for Keeps" is just that.

But I haven't made off with anyone's crutches lately, I swear.

So, do you write like a famous author?

2010-07-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

I couldn't resist. In fact, as soon as I heard about the Web site, I knew I'd have to try it out.

The site is called I Write Like, and it will analyze your writing style to determine (supposedly) which famous author your writing style most resembles. It's only been up a few days, and it already has analyzed 1.5 million pieces of text, so apparently I'm not the only curious one. It's easy. You visit the site, paste in a paragraph or two of your writing, press a button, and ta da! The comparison is made.

But don't take it too seriously. It was developed by Russian software developer Dmitry Chestnykh, who already told news outlets he's not particularly qualified to analyze literature - the site is really just a learning experiment for him.

Maybe that's why when CNN pasted in Kim Kardashian's blog entries, they were said to resemble the writings of James Joyce. Or maybe they do. I don't know; I'm not familiar with the blog, so who am I to judge?

But who cares, right? It still sounded fun. So I went to the site, www.iwl.me and cut and pasted a paragraph of text from this blog. I hit the "Analyze" button. Guess who?

Stephenie Meyer. Yep. Of Twilight fame. Now I really need to get around to finishing that book.

Because I'm greedy, I decided to try again. I cut and pasted a paragraph from a news story I'd written years ago about a center that helped children deal with grief. I always liked how that story turned out. I pressed "Analyze."

Chuck Palahniuk - the author of Fight Club.

Wow. Those are pretty different. Really, really different.

All right then. Well, I'm nothing if not flexible.

Would time travel change your career?

2010-07-16T08:12:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about the movie Hot Tub Time Machine. No, I haven't gone over the edge - I haven't even seen the flick, although I hear it's pretty funny. What I've been thinking about, specifically, is the aspect of time travel.

I think the whole thing started earlier this week when my former employee, the Gannett Corp., announced in a fairly bloodless memo that it would be creating regional hubs to take on their papers' design work. It's efficient, they say. It's necessary. And it's going to eliminate about 500 more jobs in an industry - an industry I still think of mine - that's reeling from uncertainty and job loss.

Gannett's been slicing and dicing for years, but I guess this move, more than any other, solidified the notion for me that journalism isn't really my industry anymore. I left. I can't go back. Now, would I ever really want to? I mean, c'mon - low pay, bad hours, crazy editors - it's not exactly a glamour industry. Any overworked reporter or editor will tell you that.

Who knows? But I never felt the door slam so hard in my face as it did this past week. There's no going home again, as they say. And that's where my time travel thoughts wandered in - spurred, of course, by the comedy advertised on cable.

If I could go back in time and talk to my college self (I'm sure I could find her in a campus tavern) and tell her that the industry she'd chosen - one that she would eventually allow to practically define her - would hit such hard times by the time she hit (ahem) nearly middle age, would she listen? Would she care? Would it make a difference?

Would I have given up all that I got out of newspapers if I'd known that one day, just when I was comfortable with all that I knew and learned, I'd have to leave and start over again on another career path? Would it be worth it?

Or would I change course, take another route entirely, save myself some time?

It's hard to say, of course. Revisionist history steps in. Today's work is hard, yesterday's work was fabulous. Then I remember the nutty editors, the newsroom job shuffle, the time I was forced to call a woman who's daughter was just mauled by a bear, for God's sake.

But I'm proud of what I did while I was there. And I'm learning, step by step, the rules of the new career I'm in now. Would I have changed the past if I knew the future? Hard to say. Would you?

Do you have the time to be a writer?

2010-07-10T19:14:00.000-07:00

For the longest time, I had a great list of excuses why I didn't have time to write. Well, okay - they weren't really excuses, per se, because they were all true. So I guess you could call them reasons.

I had a full-time job. I just had a baby. I had a toddler. My computer was slow. My computer was broken. I was a volunteer. I had to cook dinner. I was exhausted. I just ...couldn't. Not today.

Whenever I heard about an author doing particularly well, I would immediately read his or her biography. "Well, sure," I'd tell myself. "I could write a masterpiece if I didn't have to (fill in the blank) or if I had a (fill in the blank)."

I would be envious. And unhappy. Because no one's life was as hard as mine. I just couldn't manage to find the time to write. Could I?

Then I realized something. I don't think it came to me with a bolt of lightning or in any impressive Oprah-like 'Ah-ha!' style. But suddenly, it was there.

I could make all the excuses I wanted. I could find every valid reason in the world not to write. They could be true. They could be worthy. But in the end, it didn't matter. Time would pass, and my stories still wouldn't be written. And no one would care but me.

In the end, only I could know whether I had the passion and drive to be a writer.

I decided I did - that maybe my life wasn't the hardest after all. And suddenly, those success stories I found myself reading proved me out.

Stephen King was a schoolteacher when he wrote Christine - he wrote in a tiny closet he revamped into a writing area. Debbie Macomber wrote her first stories on a rented typewriter, dyslexic and the mother of four young children, typing up manuscripts that were rejected for five years. Scott Turow wrote his blockbuster Presumed Innocent on the train on the way to work, in longhand, starting in his daughter's Strawberry Shortcake notebook - the only one he could find.

And way back in the day, Louisa May Alcott knew that if she didn't sell her short stories - never mind Little Women - her family would be destitute. So she wrote. And wrote. And wrote.

Are there tricks and tips that can help you find time to write? Sure. Google the phrase and dozens of articles come up. But deep down, I think it comes down to more than any tip or trick - it's a question: Do you have the time to be a writer?

Introducing the Freelancer from Hell

2010-07-05T19:28:00.001-07:00

I've been hearing a lot about freelancing lately - it's getting more and more popular as staffs are cut but copy is still needed. It makes sense. I freelance. You probably freelance, too.

But I hear a lot of authors offer advice to newbie freelancers. Be tenacious, they say. Don't give up. Don't give in.

Solid advice to a point, I believe, but I have to wonder if any of these authors have ever worked the other side of the fence - you know, as editors. I have. And I have a few freelancers who still appear in my nightmares occasionally. I doubt anyone would duplicate their behavior, but I swear I'm not making these stories up.

So let me introduce you to one of my favorite Freelancers From Hell. I'll call her "The Diamond in the Rough."

This freelancer was tenacious. She called me every single day, usually with story ideas that were borderline interesting. She sent in story samples that were not that great, and when I told her, politely, that she didn't really seem to know a lot about journalism and AP style, she informed me she was a "diamond in the rough" and that she was hoping I could help her improve.

Yeah. About that. Not to be mean, but I kind of had my own staffers to worry about. I really didn't have time for stone polishing. But she kept calling. And I gave in. She wrote a few small stories. They weren't that great. But frankly, I needed the copy.

Eventually, I let her do one of her own stories - a simple human interest piece about a woman who had an extensive herb garden.

She turned it in. It was okay. Not great, but okay. The woman had 220 herbs in her garden, according to the story. That seemed like a hell of an herb garden, so I read it back to her.

The garden was amazing, she told me. So we printed the story. Two days later, the herb lady herself called. She had 22 types of herbs in her garden. So I called the freelancer. "How could that happen?" I asked her. "Did you not notice the difference in the size of garden?" She was defensive, and swore that was what the subject told her. But then she hemmed and hawed. "Well, I didn't actually see it," she eventually told me. "I just talked to her by phone. I guess I could have misheard."

So annoying. She hadn't lied to me, per se, but I still felt like I'd been had. That was that, I thought. Bye bye, freelancer.

But she kept calling. She was very sorry, she said. She'd do better. Writing was her life. Would I please give her another chance? Please? Please? She called about art exhibits. About Branson shows. Finally, after weeks of daily torture, I gave in.

I know - stupid, stupid me. Editors today probably know better. But I was a sucker.

One more chance, I told her. That's it. She told me she would be interviewing this Branson entertainer after his show, to do a little human interest piece on him. So when the phone rang soon after, I assumed it would be her. It wasn't. It was the entertainer's assistant. She was very worried. It seems the entertainer didn't have time to talk to my freelancer, and the freelancer lost it. Just lost it.

My freelancer allegedly said that if the entertainer didn't talk to her, then the paper was going to essentially run a hatchet piece on the show. The assistant was very upset. Was this true? It was just that he was very tired - he would be happy to reschedule.

I was speechless. I was horrified. As a matter of fact, I was in disbelief. I had the woman describe my freelancer, to make sure it wasn't somebody pretending to be her. But it was her. So I assured the assistant that no hatchet piece was planned, and that was not the way we did business.

Then I politely called said freelancer and made an appointment for her to come into my office. I put a stickie note on my computer reminding myself not to kill her.

When she came in, I didn't mince words. "I heard you threatened (so and so) in Branson with a negative article if he wouldn't talk to you," I said evenly. "Can you tell me what happened there?"

She burst into tears. "I'm so sorry," she said. Stupidly, I thought the apology was directed at me. But she continued. "I'm so sorry, Jesus," she said, and she dropped to her knees.

Um, what?

Then she looked at me. "I know this isn't the way Jesus wants me to act. I know he's not proud of me now." I didn't know if that was directed to me or not. I really didn't want to be accused of talking for Jesus. I just wanted out of of that office, and out of this freelance relationship pretty much more than anything in the world.

Eventually, I got out. I didn't kill her. I hope I didn't speak for Jesus. I did sever our relationship. And I did have my assistant answer the phone for the next two weeks - you know, just in case.

Snakes, stories and those big bylines

2010-06-28T19:49:00.000-07:00

As professional writers, we all know the importance of having a steady flow of killer ideas.

But what, exactly, is a good idea? You know, an idea that will hold an editor's attention, make a reader look twice, keep our bylines out there and our mortgages paid.

To me, it comes down to the grapevine. But wait - I'm getting ahead of myself.

See, when I think of a good story idea - an unlikely good story idea - I tend to think of "Snakes on a Plane." Really. I do. And here's why. When that movie was coming out, I was a features writer at a paper, and it was my job to come up with interesting story ideas each week. Now, I wasn't a film reviewer. And our own reviewer had basically ignored the movie, which was opening that weekend, over other, more highbrow offerings.

But to me, a story idea is simply this - it's what people are talking about. Sure, what you choose depends on the publication you're targeting, but what you're looking for is what people are chatting about or doing.

That will lead you to your stories. You'll find trends. Happenings. Interesting people, places and things that will pique your interest - whether they're fun things like how crowded your local farmer's market is getting, or disturbing things like how dirty and littered your local lakeshore has become.

And that week, I realized that people were talking about snakes. And planes. No, it wasn't the most highbrow movie out there, but it had gained a following long before it hit the screen. I found out there were entire blogs dedicated to the title. Special midnight showings scheduled. And ringtones where you could download Samuel Jackson saying he had "had it with these MF-ing snakes on this MF-ing plane!"

I thought it would would make a great feature - all this hype over a movie title. But the higher-ups at the paper were not convinced. The movie was silly, they said.

Whatever. I'm not particularly wild about snakes or planes, but here's the wonderful thing about ideas. You don't have to think it's a great trend. You just have to recognize it as one. I didn't want to stand in line to see the movie. But I wanted to talk to the people who did.

The editors were finally convinced. So I talked to would-be fans. I talked to a psychologist about why this movie title was so appealing. I talked to a herpetologist, who was dismayed at the hype. The story went over extremely well. Several of my editors were mystified. They shouldn't have been.

Stay interested. Find out what people are talking about. Chances are you'll find your next byline close by.

That book obsession? It's a good thing

2010-06-24T19:14:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, my husband and I were shopping for a new home. We'd visited house after house, and we couldn't figure out why so many of them looked so odd inside to us. Then we realized it - there were no books.

No books. Can you imagine? But it's true. Many of the houses we visited had absolutely no bookshelves. Now, to be fair, they could have packed them away before the house went on the market, or even because the house was on the market, but regardless, a house with no books feels empty and cold.

Not surprisingly, my house is filled with books. Books I've read a dozen times. Books I'm planning on reading. Books I've borrowed from the library and need to hurry and read before I rack up another overdue fine. I apparently suffer from what author Nicholas Basbanes calls in his fascinating tome about book collecting, "A Gentle Madness."

(In fact, he says only somewhat tongue in cheek, obsessive book collecting remains the only hobby to have a disease named after it.)

I'll take it. I love my books. I'll let people borrow them, sure - I want people to borrow them and enjoy them - but I do have a tendency to inquire after them like an over-eager parent: ("Have you started reading it yet?" "I know the first chapter is slow, but it gets better really fast." "Did you like it?" "Did you think the third chapter was funny? Because I thought the third chapter was funny.")

My books are my friends, even though when you pack them up and move, they tend to be heavy, expensive friends. But that's okay. Because I've learned that having those books lying around serves yet another purpose. It's helping my kids - even if they're not reading them. Seriously.

I was reading this great blog written by Jane Heitman Healy called readlearnandbehappy.blogspot.com. Healy is the Electronic Resources Coordinator for the South Dakota State Library, and an obvious book lover after my own heart. (It's a really interesting blog, by the way; you should check it out).

Anyway, her latest post offers this link to a study done by a professor at the University of Reno, Nevada, that apparently shows parents who have books in the home increase the level of education their children will attain.

Now, I've always known that reading to your children is a wonderful thing, but this study takes a love of literature one step further - it makes my book obsession beneficial.

Now when I spend a bundle at the bookstore and get that dirty look from my husband, I can just gaze at him soulfully and say, "But honey - it's for the children."

Tell me a story in just six words

2010-06-19T16:44:00.000-07:00

Can you tell me about your life in six words? How about just a piece of it? I know, even that sounds daunting. But writers everywhere are giving it a try through an addicting storytelling platform known as six-word memoirs.

These six-word stories were actually started years ago by Ernest Hemingway, who created one, allegedly on a bet (For sale: baby shoes, never worn). They were brought back to life in 2006 by online storytelling magazine Smith Magazine, which still welcomes them at its site, (http://www.smithmag.net)

They were brought to my attention by my former colleague Steve Koehler, who decided to use them on the first night of a writing course he teaches as a way to get to know his students.

I thought that was a great idea. Six-word memoirs, besides being absolutely addicting once you've tried writing them, offer an intriguing snapshot into a person's life - often hilarious, sometimes tragic, occasionally mysterious.

Take these disparate examples that stick in my memory from Smith's current online collection: "No more flushing tampons. Homeowner now." And "I hardly ever lied to you." Or "Screw this novel. Start another one."

Six-word memoirs run the gamut - that's why they're such an excellent writing tool, says Beth Carter, whose six-word memoirs are featured in the newly published book, "It All Changed In An Instant: More Six-Word Memoirs By Writers Famous & Obscure," available through Amazon as well as at Borders and Barnes & Noble for about $10.

I recently asked her about the inspiration and thoughts behind those quick hits she crafts:

"I definitely feel that six-word memoirs help with my writing," she said. "Writers always have to edit excess words from their manuscripts or short stories. With six-word memoirs, you're forced to only use relevant words so I believe I write more concisely in other genres.

"Sometimes I want to convey a powerful message, like my memoir on page 186: "He left. Sparked my personal D-Day." That's a true story about the time my ex left me. He just packed his bags and walked out. I stood there with our toddler daughter watching my world fall apart."

And if you're lacking for ideas, six-word memoirs might provide that tiny jolt of inspiration you need, she adds.

"They're great writers' prompts. I always tell writers to pick up the book, open a page, and write a short story based on one of the six-word memoirs. And it's fun to think of a timely topic, like Father's Day or summer, for example, and come up with creative, brief thoughts."

I've been putting them together in my head during my long commute home, and I have to say she's right. Learn more about Beth at her blog, http://banterwithbeth.blogspot.com

Give it a try. You might find you're a master.

Meeting a bookworm is a wonderful thing

2010-06-08T19:12:00.000-07:00

After years of working as a reporter, I rarely feel any trepidation about starting conversations with strangers. And when I saw the woman at Borders with a basket of at least 30 paperback books, I had to know more.

So, after a little surreptitious stalking, I threw out an opening line.

"Wow," I said, looking into her basket. "Are those all for you?"

"Yep,"' she said. "I read all the time."

Excellent.

Now I wasn't only curious. I was truly envious - of her reading time and her bold purchases. I would love to buy that many books, but I always seem to find that other items, not-so-fun items, have eaten up much of my book money.

But regardless, I was absolutely delighted at finding another avid reader. And just like most readers I know, the woman was more than happy to tell me about her purchases.

"I just read a bunch, and then my husband has a fit so I give them away," she said, laughing. "And then I come out and buy a bunch more."

We were chatting in the romance section, and I noticed a few Janet Daileys in the basket, so I asked her about her preferences. Just romance?

"Nope," she said. "I read everything." And then she reached in her purse to prove it. She took out a tattered little notebook, and leaned over to show me its contents. Written within were lines and lines, titles after titles, some peppered with notations like "Great!" or "Good ending!" or even "Recommend to (so and so)."

"This is the only way to keep them all straight," she said. "Otherwise, you forget what you've read. And if you're reading a series, you can forget which ones you have and which ones you don't.

I agree - I do the same thing. And I learned it from my mom, who does it as well.

Soon we were kneeling on the floor together, comparing notes on books we'd read, and all too soon, it was time for me to go. Not for the first time, I wished I had business cards, or even "blog cards," so handy to give out when you meet unexpectedly cool people at random. But I didn't. So I left her to her enjoyable task.

"Happy reading," I said to her with a wave. She waved back distractedly.

She already had her nose inside a book.

Daughter's project raises the bar for mom

2010-06-05T17:48:00.000-07:00

My daughter, at the tender age of 11, has just written a book and had it published. It's very good. She's had some practice - it's her second one.

Okay, these aren't the types of books you'll see in Borders or Barnes & Noble, true - they're classroom projects. But they're pretty cool, nonetheless. And the end result is a real book, with their name on the cover listed as author.

For the project, the students write a story (or short stories) and draw illustrations, improving their vocabulary, polishing their writing skills, and learning about the publishing process along the way.

Then the teachers send the finished projects off to a company called Nationwide Learning, Inc., in Topeka, Kansas. What comes back is a very professional-looking hard-bound book.

I think it's a great idea; I love it. It raises the kids' self-esteem, spurs their creativity, and keeps them interested in books. Yes, you are kind of expected to buy one in the end - although you don't have to - but I think it's well worth it.

Of course, it raises the bar for mom. My daughter wonders why it's taking me so long to write my second book, and why she can't hold my first book like I can hold hers. (Death on Deadline is an e-book, for now). And I do have to endure ribbing from other family members who make "funny" comments like, "Better hurry up! Looks like there's another author in the family taking over!"

But when it's bedtime, and my daughter picks up her book and says, "Will you read this one to me?" with a big, excited grin, I have to laugh. And the first thing I read, of course, is the dedication - to me, her dad and her brother:

"They fill my life with stories. Now I fill theirs!"

'Personalitrees' book lets nature shine

2010-06-02T16:40:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I’ve kind of taken trees for granted. I like them, sure. I appreciate them, of course. I notice when they’re not there, and I very much enjoy them when they are. But that’s really about as far as I’ve taken it. Now, after hearing about an intriguing new book by Iowa resident Joan Klostermann-Ketels, I feel quite unimaginative.

Klostermann-Ketels, a poet, musician and corporate exec to boot, has recently authored a book titled PersonaliTrees, and I think it’s just fascinating. It’s a photo album, really, of … trees. But it’s more than that. It’s an exercise in creativity, a thoughtful appreciation of nature and, well ― I’ll let her tell you, by quoting from her Web site: www.beingofsoundspirit.com

“I have dedicated myself to photographing trees in the winter, early spring and late fall—after most have lost their leaves. At those times, they are exposed and vulnerable and yet willing to show us their innermost spirits. Trees are perhaps the most honest expressions of life on earth. In their bare bones, messages of great angst and extreme pain are expressed with the greatest dignity. Their sense of humor is always present. They love life and accept every stage and condition of their experience. They love to tell stories.

"Trees bear an uncanny resemblance to human forms. Eyes, noses and mouths laugh out loud with surprise, delight and sometimes even horror. Appendages reach to the sky, frozen in a fit of life that would be as animated as any cartoon if only we could perceive time in the same way they do. Instead, we can only stand and imagine the forces that created the shapes we see in the snapshot of the moment. It is up to us to slow ourselves to a tempo that allows us to interpret their messages.”

In her photos, trees offer their versions of human emotions. She gives them names and personal characteristics, and when you put name and photo together, it's worthy of a double-take. I was a doubter, but really, you should check it out - the site offers plenty of sample pictures.

Now I find myself walking down my block, studying many of the trees as I pass by. It really is a way to stretch those creative muscles ― and appreciate nature along the way. You may never look at a tree the same way again.

Nobody's perfect, not even in fiction

2010-05-22T19:58:00.000-07:00

Usually, you can tell early on how you feel about the main characters in a book you're reading. You know if you identify with them, if you like them, if you want them to succeed.

But you may not know - not at first, at least - if they'll stick with you. You know the ones I mean; the ones you can't get out of your head. You think about them after the book has ended; you're eager to read about them again. Or maybe years later, you still remember their names - and why you liked them so much.

What is it, then, that makes a fictional character memorable?

When I was first created America Miles, my main character in Death on Deadline, I went in a few different directions. I knew she was a journalist, sure, and on that point I never wavered. But somehow, in the first draft, I realized I had created an uber-journalist. She never made a wrong move, or asked the wrong question, or said the wrong thing. But something was wrong. She just didn't seem ...real. So I started over. I recreated her. Several times.

Eventually, I realized my mistake - my fictional creation didn't have any non-fictional flaws. After all, nobody's perfect. Few pretend to be. And for me, it's those human elements, those foibles, that make a character resonate.

Think Jo in Little Women, or maybe Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. They're outspoken, forthright. But not perfect. They made mistakes, just like you and me. So we root for them. Feel for them. Even cringe for them. And we think more about them.

Or for a more modern take, consider Sookie Stackhouse, the popular telepathic barmaid of Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire (True Blood) series. Is she memorable? Most definitely. Perfect? Hardly. She talks when it would be better to stay quiet, goes when it's better to stay, and tends to fall for the wrong (undead) men. And like her or not, you still think about her long after you've finished the last page.

It's so tempting, (for me, at least), to bequeath onto our protagonists those better, stronger, faster traits we wish we possessed. But our flaws, our quirks, are what make us interesting, make us who we are.

A few years ago, the USA Network adopted the slogan, "Characters Welcome." Writers more than anyone know exactly what it means.

Could a writer be too organized?

2010-05-19T10:39:00.000-07:00

The comment took me by surprise.

I was at a meeting of my writers' group, and we were discussing ways that writers put together stories. There are some writers who simply begin with a nugget of an idea, and then go for broke - typing furiously as the ideas come, and then clearing a path of logic later. And there are others who know exactly how their story will start, have a pretty good idea of how it will end, and then spontaneously develop the path of action somewhere in the middle.

Then there are writers like me.

"I like to pretty much have stories plotted out in my head before I write," I told the group. A woman looked back at me and shook her head.

"You're too organized," she said. "You're not letting yourself be creative."

And then she turned, and started a conversation with someone else.

Apparently, she was unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped. I was too what? That was impossible. First of all, I barely made it out of my house fully dressed each morning. Secondly, how in the world could a writer be too organized? That was just crazy talk. Wasn't it?

Although there were plenty of other conversations that night, I thought about that comment long after the meeting ended. I was surprised. Annoyed. I even argued my points later to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Then I realized something. If I was this defensive, there was probably a reason why.

Maybe she was right. Maybe all those years of journalism, of not starting a story before all the facts were gathered, before all the sources were interviewed, were working against me now. I did find it hard to begin new fiction projects - I was overwhelmed until I had every plot point worked out just so. It was exhausting. And maybe,just maybe, it was stifling my creativity.

But to sit down and just write, without having a solid direction plotted and planned? That's completely out of character for me. Frankly, it's a daunting thought.

Then again, to try something new and different - even scary? Maybe that's where true creativity is born.

Bookstores provide the perfect de-stressor

2010-05-16T09:57:00.001-07:00

I had one of those weeks. You know the ones - where the work piles up with the stress and the days stretch on and even when you're finished and everything's okay, you still can't calm down.

By Friday afternoon, my stomach was knotted like a necklace at the bottom of an old jewelry box. I could feel myself growing snappish. So my daughter and I took off to the one place where I knew I could relax - the bookstore.

I love bookstores - any bookstores. It doesn't matter if they're filled with dusty, used tomes housed in hundred-year-old buildings, or if they're bright, shiny titles in chains with coffee shops in the back. There's something about being around books that changes me; it's like I'm meeting a room full of friends. I actually think I get friendlier.

Sure, I love online bookstores and I admire the accessibility of e-books - of course I do. I consistently and persistently hawk my own offering (see blatant plug for Death on Deadline at top of page) on www.smashwords.com. But sometimes, I need that tangibility of seeing print on pages. Maybe it's all those years working at newspapers.

So this weekend, off we went. While my daughter made a beeline for manga (which, I'll admit, I'm still trying to embrace) I trolled the aisles, seeing what my friends were up to.

I explored. I found out that John Grisham has a detective book for kids, which looks pretty interesting. And I read a few pages from the new book "Sh*t my Dad Says," by Justin Halpern, which, if you follow Twitter, you'll know is one of the funniest accounts ever, and if you don't, then Google it and you'll see why it's now a book.

Then, I found it. A new fiction offering by Laurie Notaro. My stress disappeared like it had never arrived, and I could feel my excitement mounting. Notaro is one of my favorite writers(she usually writes hilarious, biographical non-fiction), and I couldn't believe I'd missed the arrival of one of her books.

It's called "Spooky Little Girl," and I snatched it up like one of the grabby ladies you see fighting over the last designer bra at a New York fashion sale. I was so excited; it was like an old pal had arrived in town unexpectedly and now we had the weekend together to catch up.

I started it last night. I didn't mean to - I was in the middle of another book I need to finish. But I couldn't help it. And just as I expected, it's really good.

Oh, and that stress ... what was that even about? I can barely remember.

Little mistakes can make a big impact

2010-05-08T11:12:00.000-07:00

I was reading a book recently, a non-fiction offering, and it was pretty compelling. I was a few chapters in when I came to this sentence:

"I left the house, children in toe."

I read it twice. What? Oh ... I see. Toe. Tow. Okay, okay, somebody screwed up. But boy, that's a pretty bad one. And I have to admit, I started reading a little closer. And then I read this:

"He was to close to the picture."

What? Oh, I get it. Too. To. Ugh. I was becoming an editor, not a reader, and I didn't want to be. But little mistakes in the copy were ruining the story for me. And after I found a few more, I have to admit, I flipped to the back to find out the background of the author. I was frustrated and becoming a little judgmental. But why, I wondered, didn't anyone check this? What happened here?

Because these little mistakes? They add up, they really do. People notice. It's distracting, and it ruins the flow of the story. That's why editing is so essential, and why guessing just doesn't work. Don't assume an editor will find your mistakes. Find them yourself. Better yet, try not to make them at all. It sounds simplistic, I know, but it's something writers, caught up in the excitement of the storyline, easily can forget. So it's worth a reminder.

If you're iffy on the difference between its and it's, look it up. If you don't remember why and when you use an apostrophe, it's worth the extra time to read the rules. I know, I know, writing is about ideas, it's about creativity, but if your reader is slowed down by bad grammar, those ideas will never get through.

I always think about this one episode of Family Guy, when Peter was opening up his own bar and grill. He couldn't decide where to put the "e" on the sign. First he wrote "Ye Olde Pub." He looked, pondered, and changed it. "Ye Old Pube." Then he changed it back. And then... well, you can guess how it ended up. Yes, I know, a little tacky - but it makes its point.

Little mistakes can make a big difference.

Poetry that converted a 'non-poetry' type

2010-05-04T19:25:00.000-07:00

There are poems that you find, and then there are poems that find you.

Recently, a poet has been popping up in my life. A friend sent me a quote from her; then not one but two of my favorite blogs quoted her the next week. While different poems were quoted, they were all from the same author. With all the poets in the world, this seemed quite coincidental.

And the oddest thing of all was the fact that I - not a poetry person in the slightest - really, really liked what I was reading. The poet? Mary Oliver. Have you heard of her? I highly recommend giving her a read. She writes about the beauty of nature and the strength of faith, and her poems have haunting, introspective lines, like this one, from "Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches":

"Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?"

And as an animal lover, I found this one particularly struck a chord:

Making the House Ready for the Lord

Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice — it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances — but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.

Now I think I know why so many people love poems - certain words, certain ways, have the power to stir your soul. And sometimes nothing does that more succinctly than poetry.

Sometimes it's best to simply walk away

2010-05-02T11:28:00.001-07:00

You've finished it - that essay, the story, the article. You've worked on it forever, you've sweat blood and tears, and you're finally ready to turn it in. Wait - do one last thing.

Walk away.

Seriously. If you can, if you're not on deadline, save your file and take a walk. Get away for a few minutes, for a few hours, even, if you can swing it. You might be surprised at what you find when you return.

There's this great quote by artist Paul Gauguin: "I close my eyes in order to see." Now, Gauguin was actually speaking about painting, of course, but I think his words can apply to writing, as well.

When we're so close to something, we lose perspective. We know what we want to say, but are we really making our meaning clear to the reader? And when we're self-editing, over and over again, are we finding those little mistakes? We can't be sure. So walk away. Take a break. Clear your head.

And then come back. Read. Maybe your words will be perfect, and you can feel proud and relieved you took the time to make that one last safety check. But maybe you'll find some things you never expected - garbled sentences, repeated words, dropped punctuation. Maybe you're conveying something you didn't mean to; maybe your point isn't getting across as strongly as it should.

Time is one of our most valuable commodities - if you have it, by all means, use it. Close your eyes, open them, and really see.

Looking for that great idea? Just relax

2010-04-26T20:20:00.001-07:00

I haven't been blogging lately, so I apologize. But see, I've been thinking. I've been trying to come up with a great idea. And as we all know, nothing is as stifling as having to have a great idea.

See, I decided to enter a literary contest - something I've never done before. You know the ones, where you enter a short story by a certain date. Well, the date was looming. And tumbleweeds have been blowing through my brain.

Nothing. I was in an idea dead zone.

It was so strange. Usually, I consider myself an idea person. I don't freak on deadlines, I'm pretty good with word association, and if someone is stuck for a new plot line or twist, I can usually offer a cogent thought or two.

But this time, I think I just tried too hard. Coming up with a great story idea can sometimes be like trying to fall asleep - you just have to let it happen. If you think about it, concentrate on it, wonder and worry about it, you'll be left lying in bed with your eyes wide open, trying to figure out what went wrong.

And that's where I was in my story idea process. So I stopped. I just stopped trying so hard. If I didn't have an idea, if I couldn't enter this contest, would it really be the end of the world? It wouldn't, of course. I started to relax.

And sure enough, just before the weekend, the clouds literally parted while I was stuck in traffic. I looked up, toward the sun, and something clicked. Finally. An idea. Not a complete one, not a perfect one, but a pretty good one. I worked it out in my head all the way home, thinking of the logistics. And it just might work.

Sometimes, the best things happen when we simply let them.

Imagination on vacation? Try these tips

2010-04-20T18:52:00.000-07:00

So you've finally carved out some writing time for yourself, locked the door, placed your hands on the keyboard and ... nothing. Your imagination is on vacation, and you simply can't get inspired.

I think we've all been there, in that temporary rut that zaps our creativity and leaves us in a funk.

Here are a few time-honored methods to get yourself back on track.

1. Clean up your workspace. Even if you work on a tiny desk in the corner of the room, clearing out the clutter surrounding you can make an amazing difference. A clean, inviting writing area can be surprisingly inspiring.

2. Change your writing environment. Yes, most of us write on computers. But we don't have to. Take your notebook out hiking with you on the weekend and jot down a few ideas - you might be surprised at what you come up with. No hiking trails in sight? Go people-watching at the mall, or just take your laptop to the back deck. Sometimes, simply changing your point of view is all it takes to get that idea factory back in peak form.

3. Be a kid again. Pick up a one of those childhood favorites that made you fall in love with reading and writing in the first place. I have a battered old book titled Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield (first copyright 1917), that I absolutely love. It's the story of this little city girl who goes to live on a farm, and every time I read a few pages it lifts my mood. You probably have your own favorites. Ride with Black Beauty, fly with Harry Potter - curl up on the couch and indulge.

4. Enjoy another form of art. Yes, we love writing, but it isn't the only art form to enjoy. Watch someone make pottery, visit an art museum, see a play, learn to sew, listen to music. With all that creative energy flowing around you, surely some will rub off!

5. Buy fresh flowers. Yes, it seems simple, but I recently read a summary of a university study that showed fresh flowers in a room actually increased productivity. Now, in feng shui, purple is a color of creativity and prosperity - so find a few violet blooms, and you'll surely be set for success!

Does a main character have to be likable?

2010-04-17T11:49:00.001-07:00

A friend shared with me recently her manuscript, and while I liked her story, I didn't find her main character particularly endearing. This bothered her - more than it bothered me.

What is likable, after all? Yes, I know that one of the first tenets a writer is taught in creative writing class is that the protagonist should be likable - lovable, even. But I think that's easier said than done. We're an extremely diverse society now, filled with a wide variety of lifestyles, opinions and social mores. While I might admire a heroine who is sweet and good and docile, you could find her an intolerable doormat.

My point? Likability is subjective. However, character development is not. And that, I think, is the key. No one's perfect - we shouldn't expect our characters to be. But if they're learning, changing and growing as the story progresses, readers can't help but relate. Will they be perfect - or at least more likable - in the end? That's for you to decide.

Prolific author M.C. Beaton has a series featuring a character named Agatha Raisin. Agatha is self-centered, short-tempered and somewhat foul-mouthed. I find her hilarious and quite likable, despite her flaws - Beaton gives you such insight into why she is the way she is that in my opinion, you can't help but relate. And she does learn from her missteps - kind of. She is clever, smart enough to solve a few murder mysteries. But...as you find in the next novel, she can't stop bragging about it. And that makes me like her even more.

Consider Jennifer Weiner's best-seller, In Her Shoes. The younger sister, Maggie, is incredibly unlikable at the beginning of the novel. Not only does she seduce her sister's boyfriend, but she's selfish, manipulative and none too honest, to boot. But by the end of the novel, you're rooting for her to succeed. Why? Because she's grown, and we've been let in on the process.

Not every women in a damsel in distress; not every hero is a knight in shining armor. Some of my favorite people are quirky. And so are some of my most-loved characters.

An evening with author Scott Turow

2010-04-14T20:03:00.000-07:00

Those of you who admire the writing of Scott Turow might be surprised to know that some of those key scenes in his blockbuster novel Presumed Innocent were actually scribbled in a notebook with Strawberry Shortcake on the cover.

It's true. It wasn't his, of course - as he ran for his commuter train into Chicago each morning, he would grab whatever notebook was handy, and sometimes it happened to be one that belonged to his daughter. But still, not what you'd expect, is it?

But Turow is full of surprises. I discovered that when I won tickets to his appearance in Michigan, one sponsored by the Canton Public Library. I jumped at the chance to go, of course, even though I'd be sitting alone - always kind of a weird feeling. However, at literary events, I've found, it doesn't matter. Everyone is so excited to be there, so jazzed to hear the speaker, you could pretty much show up naked with your hair on fire and few would notice.

Turow didn't bring any props, any backdrops, any sound clips. He just stood behind a podium, refreshingly low-key. He was funny, self-deprecating. He talked about his past, how he went from wanting to become a novelist to falling in love with the law to later blending the two. He became fascinated at the stories that unfolded in courtrooms,he said, at the motivation for crime and the faces of evil.

He talked about his 1987 breakout hit, Presumed Innocent, a legal thriller, later a movie starring Harrison Ford, that many say defined the legal genre. He talked about how he'd write it in bits and pieces, in 20-minute bursts of inspiration as he commuted to his job as an attorney in Chicago. He says the fame it brought him changed his life. It was a writer's dream, he admits openly, and says it was probably due more to luck than skill.

Since then, however, he's kept the best-sellers coming, from The Burden of Proof to Pleading Guilty to Ordinary Heroes. In May, Innocent, a long-awaited sequel to Presumed Innocent, will be released.

The thread that tied all his topics together? His passion. It was obvious all through his speech. "I'm blessed," he said. "I have such a full life - I get out of bed in the morning and I can't wait to get started on what's going on that day. I have a very blessed life, and I know it."

What he might not know is how devoted his fans are - at least in Michigan. When he finished speaking - and then read from his new book - the women in the rows behind me were absolutely giddy.

They whispered together like middle school co-conspirators. "I'm going to write him a letter," said one.

"Well, I just can't wait til May," said the other. "We'll stand in line - just like the kids did for Harry Potter."

Learning to paint a picture with words

2010-04-10T10:30:00.000-07:00

We all know that a picture is worth a thousand words. But when we're writing, we have a challenge. That picture? It's just in our heads.

So how do we make sure the image in our head is translated to our readers? Sometimes, it's not easy. Usually, when we develop our main characters, we know how they look. We know how they talk, how they move, what motivates them.

Sometimes, we know them so well we forget that that the reader doesn't know them at all.

I remember once having a friend read an early draft of Death on Deadline. He smiled at me when he was done with the first few pages. "Cool," he said. "I like how you've made it sound so sharp, so 1940s."

Great. Except the novel was set in modern day. What happened? Had I watched "My Girl Friday" too many times? Had I used too much old-time slang? Apparently, my protagonist, who was supposed to be matter-of-fact and funny, was just coming across as dated. What I saw in my imagination was not coming through in my words. So it was back to the drawing board, so to speak.

But with the help of a few wise editors and a lot of benevolent writer friends, I've learned a few tricks to help translate those images in your head to the page:

1. Think in pictures. When you're starting a scene or a chapter, imagine you have five or six photos in front of you, showing what will happen in those pages. What do you see? That's what you need your reader to see. When you can see the scene clearly in your head, it's easier for you to translate it to the blank page.

2. Don't assume. Sometimes, we've been working on a book or a chapter or a project so long, we get to know our characters like friends. (I know, it sounds weird. But if you write fiction, you know what I'm talking about). So when we're halfway through, we start forgetting to tell the reader important tidbits they really need to know. Like Joe can read the map because he was a Boy Scout. Or Vivian knew the tea was poisoned was because she always drank that type of tea for breakfast. Don't forget to add those little character details. You know them. We don't.

3. Be specific. Not only will it make for more interesting reading, but it draws a better picture for the reader. Does your character love the beautiful flowers in the garden? Or is she entranced by the vivid painted daisies, the delicate snapdragons and the bold peonies?

Have a good time with your writing. And let the reader in on the fun.

Live in the moment; write the same way

2010-04-04T19:30:00.001-07:00

Live in the moment - how many times have you heard that phrase? A lot, I'd wager. And it makes sense. Why waste time dwelling on the past or anticipating the future when you have the present right here, right now, right in front of you?

The phrase pertains to writing as well, and it took me quite awhile to learn that. I'm an overthinker - maybe some of you are, too. You can't just write a story or a chapter or a freelance piece. You anticipate who's reading it, and when. You think about who it might offend, or who it might please. You think about where it will go after you write it, and what will happen to it then.

In small doses, those thoughts are great. It's important to know your audience, and to anticipate their likes and dislikes. And you certainly aren't going to be a successful freelancer if you're a writer who is consistently offensive. That just makes sense. But too much? That's just paralyzing.

In Anne Lamott's witty, wonderful book, Bird by Bird, she tells about trying to describe to a class of novice writers the process of writing - about the sometimes miraculous process of writing - about how a blank page becomes a line and a line becomes a paragraph and a paragraph becomes dialogue in a story that actually starts to flow. And how before you know it, the page is filled, and you've done it - you've written something.

And then, she says, her students will raise their hands and ask, "How do you get an agent?" Because they're not concerned about the process. They're interested in the profits. They're not in the present; they're way in the future.

When I was writing "Death on Deadline," I created a character named Wayne Grubbs, and I made him up simply for comic relief. I knew I wanted him to be a bane for my protagonist. I wanted him to be an awful journalist. I wanted him to be stupid, but not so dumb he was a caricature. I liked what he added to the tale. But then, I lost my focus. I stopped thinking of the story. I kept rewriting him over and over - afraid of who he would offend, afraid his remarks might rub someone the wrong way.

I wasn't writing in the moment. I had became a marketer, not an author. And it wasn't good. Because it wasn't the right time.

Pretty soon he wasn't even funny. I took him out. And then I missed him. So one night, I put him back in, and just wrote what I felt. I created him the way I thought a major corporation would - as a semi-trained "para" journalist that they wouldn't have to pay as much. I made him funny - well, my version of funny, at least. And then I left him alone. I think we were both happier.

We live our lives a moment at a time. Let's write the same way.

Writers should take those creative risks

2010-03-29T08:18:00.001-07:00

It seems like at every job, there's that one task that's been done forever - and it's pointless. But if you question it, you get the inevitable response: "It's always been done that way." And it always will be.

Unfortunately, a lot of us can fall into the same trap with our writing. We always write in the first person. Or we always write mysteries. Or we always write poetry. And we always will. We fall into a rut. We become afraid to take chances, when in fact, as writers and artists, taking chances may be exactly what we need to expand our boundaries.

Years ago, I studied feng shui in a year-long affiliate course with Katherine Metz, who runs a practice called The Art of Placement. The course was wonderful, and at the end of the year, Katherine offered a workshop and get-together for all her affiliates in Redstone, Colorado, a remote little mountain town.

I excitedly signed up, expecting a few hands-on courses on feng shui. I got that and much, much more. In fact, Katherine had invited a whole collection of experts in different fields, all designed to help us get in touch with different parts of our artistic selves.

I fell in love with the beautiful mountain town. Katherine and the other guests were incredibly friendly and welcoming. But I took one look at the agenda and froze. There was a workshop that involved singing. Another, poetry. And for someone who still thought of herself as a reporter - a writer, sure, but one more comfortable interviewing others - it all seemed waaay too touchy-feely and introspective. I was somewhat frantic. I also was miles away from civilization, in a remote mountain town. I was trapped.

So I sang. And when the first note came out of my mouth, the instructor stopped me. "Dear," she said. "I can't hear you ... somehow, you've hit a note I can't hear."

Ahh, the fear note. So I sang another, one she could hear. And another. And I sang a song.

Then, in another workshop, I created poetry - that we then shared with the entire group. I remember at the beginning, I was so incredibly uncomfortable, standing there, with my horrible, crappy, poem, I nearly wept. But I was never so proud as when I finished my reading. And the group clapped.

By the last day, I was elated. I felt like I could do anything - write anything. And that, I think is the point of creative risk taking. Try something new. Learn something different. Empower yourself, and you might just be surprised where it leads.

And you don't even have to go to the mountains to try it.

Finding a writing group that works

2010-03-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

If you would have asked me a few years ago about my thoughts on writing groups, I likely would have just shuddered.

See, I tried a group once, awhile back, and didn't have the best of experiences, to say the least. I remember arriving, somewhat nervous and unsure of myself, only to have one of the members glare at me suspiciously and then announce to the others she thought I might be there to steal her erotic vampire poetry. (I wasn't, for the record).

Later, I tentatively read aloud from my then-fledgling newsroom mystery Death on Deadline manuscript as other writers sat in a circle around me, only to be interrupted by a young man with a very harsh voice. "Have you ever even worked in a newsroom?" He sounded so hostile, so Sopranos-like hostile, that I stopped, agog, in mid-sentence. "Yes," I said, somewhat confused. "I'm a reporter."

Still glaring, he sat back in his chair, arms crossed, just staring at me. But at least he was quiet. I decided then, in the back of my mind, that he either wanted to steal my purse or there was a hit out on me and I just didn't know it. I kept reading and nervously tripped over a word. Several people laughed.

"Mean," I thought to myself.

Later, in my car, after I stopped sweating, I decided for absolute sure that I just wasn't a writing group person. It's taken me quite a while to even consider changing my mind.

But writing can be a lonely profession. Sometimes it's nice to just bounce a sentence off someone, to question an idea, to realize that somewhere, somebody else in the world is trying to string together all these lines and squiggles and make sense of them, too.

So after I moved, after I hemmed and hawed for nearly a year, I visited another writers group. And guess what? I don't have a single horror story to tell you. Everyone has been good-natured and helpful. People are laid-back. Everyone is working on a different type of project - some fiction, some non-fiction. There's no reading circle. You can share a few pages, listen, or just ask for writing advice.

And I'm reminded why a good writing group can work.

Enthusiasm is contagious. I love to watch writers talk about their work, see their eyes light up as they explain their characters, their ideas, their plans for future chapters. It makes me happy being around writers who want to improve, who like give-and-take, who are brimming with imagination.

For me, being around other writers is like watching creativity become tangible.

If you're looking for a group, look for those kinds of people - people who inspire you, who make you feel like you can't wait to get started on your next piece. Look for people who make you laugh - or at least make you forget a little of the stress you came in with.

(For the record, if you're in my area, this latest group I've been referring to - the good one - is the Metro Detroit Creative Writers Group. I'm really enjoying it, and it's open to everyone. For more info, shoot an email to Keith at taurus_moon@yahoo.com).

Groups are personal; you'll know who you connect with and who you don't. But I think the right one can help you move forward, to lift creativity to new levels. And "group" can be a misnomer - even exchanging ideas with another writer over a cup of coffee can get you through a rough patch.

As for me, I think I'm becoming a little more open-minded. Of course, if someone ever starts accusing me of coveting their erotic vampire poetry, I'm gone.

Spelling matters - even on license plates

2010-03-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

I couldn't figure out why the driver in front of me was being so obnoxious.

My commute to work isn't terrible stressful. I'm going from the suburbs into the city, yes, but the route I take isn't terribly difficult, and unless there's construction, it isn't awfully complex. I usually spend my time just listening to the radio, planning my day, or even creating blog posts or working on writing projects in my head.

Yet the driver in front of me was acting like this was the Indy 500. She was driving too fast. She was moving from lane to lane, cutting off other drivers, tailgating and basically acting like a total jerk. As I pulled up next to her at a light, I could see she was talking on her cell phone and digging through her purse. As the light changed, it looked like she was putting on lipstick.

Normally, I would have just rolled my eyes and chalked up her erratic driving to multi-tasking. But I could tell by a few flashing brake lights around me that she was making some other drivers nervous, and being around nervous drivers tends to make my heart race.

So yes,I was more annoyed than I should have been. Maybe that's why I felt that teensy bit of mean-spirited smugness when I noticed her license plate.

It read: "Fiesty."

Oh, dear. It seems there are some exceptions to the old "i before e except after c" rule, after all. Never trust those old mnemonic devices completely, especially when you're under the stress of trying to be creative at the DMV.

I could be wrong, but I'm betting it was supposed to read "Feisty."

Spelling matters - even on license plates. Otherwise, it can so ruin your image.

Suffering from 'Shakespeare Syndrome?'

2010-03-19T17:31:00.000-07:00

You're going to write, but first you want to take that storytelling course, right?

And you have an idea for a book, but right now, work is a little hectic, and you don't really know what you're doing anyway ... there's that great new how-to book out you want to read; then you'll definitely dive in.

Excuses, excuses - we all have them. And lots of us may be suffering from what author Marshall Cook calls "The Shakespeare Syndrome."

Not familiar? I wasn't either. But in his book, "Freeing Your Creativity," Cook explains: "The shadow of the Bard of Avon (or some other much-admired writer) may be shielding you from the light of your creative sun. 'I'll never write that well,' you lament. 'So why should I write at all?'"

Cook goes on to say - and I have to say I agree - that's an awfully harsh way to judge yourself. Every story, every vision, every viewpoint is original and worth being heard. Give yourself a chance. You don't have to knock it out of the park on your first try. But don't let fear stop you from trying before you even start.

Don't get me wrong. Writing courses can be wonderful. Books are terrific. But why wait? Write right now. If you learn something new, edit it in later.

My own personal "Shakespeare Syndrome" doesn't stop me from writing. It can however, discourage me from continuing. If I have a bad day, write an awkward graph or struggle with a chapter that just won't flow, I am, I admit, sometimes ready to throw in the towel. No, I won't give up writing, but I'll end up with a drawer full of unfinished projects - and that's not exactly the result I'm aiming for.

So I'll stop, take a walk, maybe read something inspirational, and then come back to the keyboard.

And I remember, then, the words of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar: "Ambition should be made of sterner stuff."

Never, never, never give up

2010-03-16T17:18:00.000-07:00

It was one of those days. It was one of those days where I had overslept and the cat had thrown up and the very first thing I did was step in it. That set the tone for the day.

A boss was cranky and the computer crashed and I forgot to put my yogurt in the refrigerator so it went sour. Little things. Stupid things. But things that all together, by the end of the day, had managed to obliterate any and all sense of inspiration and creativity.

So by the time I sat down at my keyboard that night, after making lunches and loading laundry and singing lullabies and packing milk money and making sure that everyone and everything was as it should be, I was done. Finished. Sure, there were a few ideas I wanted to put together, but the well was dry.

I typed a paragraph. It was awful. I typed another. It was worse. "Why do I even put myself through this?" I thought to myself. My finger hovered over the delete key, and I contemplated simply going to bed.

Then I saw it. A slip of paper, black paper, sticking out from under the mouse pad. I pulled it out. It wasn't paper; it was a card. I'd received it weeks ago from a friend and put it on my desk. It must have fallen over, unnoticed.

I read it, and for the first time that day, I laughed. It read:

"Never, never, never give up."

Using weather as a storytelling tool

2010-03-13T11:07:00.000-08:00

Today, I look outside, and it's grim and gray, rainy and cold.

But I don't mind. First of all, it isn't snowing, and in Michigan in March, that's something to celebrate. And secondly, just feeling that icy drizzle on my face made me start thinking how important a writing tool the weather can be in narrative storytelling.

It seems so simple, such a basic thing, right? Sun, rain, wind, snow. But weather is so evocative, so emotional. Weather makes our characters feel, makes them react. Sure, it can be overdone - we don't need the Channel 4 weather report in the middle of Chapter 3 (unless it's a book about hurricanes, of course), but a few sentences about a driving rain, a blinding snow or the insufferable heat can add an undeniable heft to what was once a bare-bones paragraph.

Not only can it provide a perfect sense of place for the reader,(think sultry mornings in the South) but it doesn't even necessarily have to be literal. It can offer plot foreshadowings - like danger on the horizon - or a quick insight into a character's mood. Woven skillfully into your storyline, it can add mystery, intrigue even tension. It can change the mood of the story as quickly as the weather changes here in Michigan.

For your reading pleasure, a few of my favorites:

"It was a dark and stormy night."
Snoopy

"The little log house was almost buried in snow. Great drifts were banked against the walls, and in the morning when Pa opened the door, there was a wall of snow as high as Laura's head ... The days were clear and bright. Snow was piled all along the bare, dark branches and it sparkled in the sunshine. Icicles hung from the great eaves of the house to the snowbanks, great icicles as large at the top as Laura's arm. They were like glass and full of sharp lights."
Little House in the Big Woods, Laura Ingalls Wilder

"Too wet to go out
Too cold to play ball
So we sat in the house
We did nothing at all."
Cat in the Hat, Dr. Seuss

"The sky ahead of me, as I walked home that evening, was a thing of sublime and awesome beauty. The sun was still high - it was the middle of summer - and the weather had for weeks been alternating between hot, dense, muggy days and twilight cloudbursts. Mountainous thunderheads towered all around me, some miraculously white, where the sunlight struck them, some - the lower clouds - glowering, oppressive. The sky in the glodes between masses of cloud was irenic blue, and down through some of them came shafts of light that transmuted the ripening wheatfields, the pastures, the plane trees, hedges and haycocks to images from a dream. Here and there on the horizon, sheet lightning flickered."
The Warden, John Gardner (from "The Literary Ghost" anthology)

"It is absolutely freezing outside today, and I feel so lethargic. I walked around the driveway, took one look at my icy, miserable nonblooming garden, and got depressed. All the summer blooms are gone. Everything is losing its color and its leaves. Winter is almost here, and it's getting on my nerves. Work is slow, the garden looks like hell, and it's almost time for the holidays. Where can I run and hide?"
Annie's Garden Journal, Annie Spiegelman

"The windows and front doors were thrown open to a fickle breeze, the creaking ceiling fan circled at full throttle. Here and there, an occasional pew bulletin lifted on a draft of moving air and went sailing. Peering loftward through a glass pane in the sacristy door, he couldn't help but notice the soprano had returned to the fold and was cooling herself with a battery-operated fan. He also saw that every pew in St. John's was filled to bursting. Air conditioning! he thought, running his finger around his collar. Next year's budget, and no two ways about it."
A New Song, Jan Karon

So what's on your nightstand?

2010-03-11T19:22:00.000-08:00

Show me an eager writer, and I'll show you an avid reader.

And chances are, I'll also show you a nightstand stacked high with titles just too interesting to put away. In fact, if your nightstand area looks anything like mine, you probably hope you don't have to make too many late-night bathroom trips, because it's a dangerously cluttered trail.

I wish I could tell you that the area around my bed is rife with the classics; everything from Homer's Odyssey to Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift.

Um, no. I'm hardly that scholarly. In fact, confession time: I had to read Gulliver's Travels in high school and I found it so boring, I nearly cried. Now, before you condemn me for my lowbrow appraisal, let me just say that since then, at the urging of my far more literary sister, I have read more Swift, specifically his satirical essay, "A Modest Proposal," in which he suggests eating children as a way to eliminate them from becoming an economic burden.

Okay, that was pretty funny. Though it was obviously satire, it apparently shocked all his compatriots and almost made me forgive him for the whole Gulliver debacle.

So no, my literary mix usually doesn't include the classics. But to make up for it, I do try to be eclectic. And I am most definitely prolific. I keep a little bit of everything going so when I do sit down to write, I'm inspired by all types of genres, voices and views.

Here's a sampling of what pages I've been turning before I click off the lights. How about you?

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver. I'm a little behind the times on this one; it got a lot of hype awhile ago after Kingsolver wrote about how she and her family decided to go rural for a whole year. They'd either raise it, grow it, buy it locally, or do without. I just started it, and so far, it's a pretty entertaining read.

Fifty Acres and a Poodle (A story of Love, Livestock and Finding Myself on a Farm) by Jeanne Marie Laskas. What can I say? I must be having some rural fantasy life going - which is ironic because even my mother would tell you I can barely keep a single plant alive. But Laskas has been a columnist for the Washington Post Magazine, she's a great writer, and when I saw this, I just couldn't resist. Maybe this will be the spring my garden will actually grow.

Dare to Die by Carolyn Hart. You knew there'd be a murder mystery in there somewhere, right? Hart is a superb storyteller, and I actually thought I'd read all the offerings in her Death on Demand series. But this is a new one, and I know it will be great.

Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss by Kyra Davis. Yes, it's chick lit. But I'm a chick, so that's okay. And Davis is a fun writer - I've read a few other books of hers, starting with Sex, Murder and a Double Latte, and it was was a fast-paced, good read.

Haunted by Heather Graham. Heather, where have you been all my life? You've been in the romance section, that's where, and I never go there. But Graham's paranormal mystery/romances are like literary popcorn; I read them one after another, and they never disappoint. And lucky for me, she is an extremely prolific writer. (She's not the actress, by the way - it's a different Heather, surprise, surprise). I love her. I envy her. I can't wait to start reading this one - right now.

Can't choose? Blinded by choices? Let me help!! After all, I don't call this blog Death on Deadline for nothing. (www.smashwords.com)

Remember: A rejection isn't a death knell

2010-03-08T19:16:00.000-08:00

I have a very close relative who is a wonderful writer. She's written a book - no, she's poured her heart and soul into writing a book. And it's good. I've read it.

Yesterday, it was rejected by a publisher. Again. We all know how that feels. Well, maybe not all of us, but a lot of us. It's frustrating, maddening. We feel helpless, useless, like Sisyphus charged with our own personal, impossible task.

We know the publishing industry is in chaos. We know there's a glut of writers out there. But reading that rejection letter, none of it matters. It still hurts like hell.

Yes, I know, we're writers, and writers need to have thick skins. We need to square our shoulders and toss our heads and know we're better than all that. We need to remember there's a lot of dreck out there, and publishers have to wade through it every day. We know it's a tough industry, and we chose it.

But some days, it's hard not to take it personally. Sooooo . .. .

There is a book by Andre Bernard titled Rotten Rejections: A Literary Companion . I found a few excerpts on a variety of places on the Web, including a nifty little Web site, www.writersservices.com, which offers a lot more than solace.

But still, a little bit never hurts. This book shows that publishers aren't always right. They've made a few mistakes, passed on some pretty big hits. And they haven't always been terribly polite about it.

So here are a few favorites for those of us - including my relative - who may still be licking our wounds. Remember, a rejection isn't a death knell. It isn't a fact. It's one person's opinion.

Someday, she'll be famous. And then they'll be sorry:

Jack Kerouac: "His frenetic and scrambled prose perfectly expresses the feverish travels of the Beat Generation. But is that enough? I don't think so."

The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame: "An irresponsible holiday story."

Lord of the Flies by William Golding: "An absurd and uninteresting fantasy which was rubbish and dull."

Watership Down by Richard Adams: "Older children wouldn't like it because its language is too difficult."

The Blessing Way by Tony Hillerman: "If you insist on rewriting this, get rid of all that Indian stuff."

Animal Farm by George Orwell: "It's impossible to sell animal stories in the U.S.A."

The Diary of Anne Frank: "The girl doesn’t, it seems to me, have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the 'curiosity' level."

Carrie by Stephen King: "We are not interested in science fiction which deals with negative utopias. They do not sell."

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller: "I haven’t really the foggiest idea about what the man is trying to say… Apparently the author intends it to be funny – possibly even satire – but it is really not funny on any intellectual level … From your long publishing experience you will know that it is less disastrous to turn down a work of genius than to turn down talented mediocrities."

The perfect poem for Saturday

2010-03-06T06:56:00.000-08:00

Remember when you were a kid, and you'd wake up Monday morning, so tired, just absolutely, positively sure that there was no way you could make it through school that day? In fact, you were pretty sure you were deathly ill? But then, on the weekend, you were suddenly, miraculously, recovered??!!

I used to think that was just me, but the late poet Shel Silverstein, one of my faves, has showed me that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't.

Sick
by Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?

What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Have a wonderful weekend, everybody!! I actually see some sunshine out there!!

Right word, right time, big difference

2010-03-04T18:39:00.000-08:00

"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."
Mark Twain

I was perusing the latest celebrity headlines, making sure I got my fix of the lives of the rich and famous, when I came upon this headline:

"Bruce Willis Not Fussed About Starting a Family."

The gist of the story - which, okay, yes, I read - was that the newly married movie star wasn't terribly concerned over whether he had more kids or not. Fine. Cool. Way to be laid back, Bruce.

But as for that weird headline, I had to read it twice. Fussed? Seriously? I knew what the headline writer meant, but surely that wasn't the word he was looking for. But it offered another perfect example of how just one wrong word can ruin otherwise fine prose.

Words, as we all know, can be confusing. Not to oversimplify here, but there are an awful lot of words out there that sound incredibly alike. And writers have to think very carefully when they're painting their visuals, lest they lead their readers astray.

For instance:
Your main character. Is she trembling or tremulous?
That detective? Is he foundering or floundering?
And the wealthy aunt: complacent or complaisant?

All things to consider. That Mark Twain quote, above? Probably overused, yes, but it's so good, I just couldn't resist. Because he makes his point so succinctly and wonderfully. Lightning crackles and sparkles in the sky - it's memorable, unforgettable, sometimes even talked about for weeks. A lightning bug? Well, that's a different story; just a charming little thing you point at and move on.

I edited a piece of copy once where the reporter was writing about a group of community leaders checking out a landfill for the first time. The day was dark, cold and rainy, and if you've ever visited a landfill, you know it's not exactly a visit to Candyland. But one of her sentences read: "They traipsed through the mud." I read it twice. Traipsed? I brought it back to her. It was an error, plain and simple. She meant to write: "They trudged through the mud."

Lightning. Lightning bug.

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

2010-03-02T15:50:00.000-08:00

"So the writer who breeds more words than he needs is making a chore for the writer who reads."
Theodor Seuss Geisel (Dr. Seuss)

By now, every Who down in Whoville has surely heard of the amazing Dr. Seuss, the man who twisted and turned words this way and that, making reading fun again. His books, from Horton Hears a Who to Green Eggs and Ham to How the Grinch Stole Christmas are perennial favorites.

But I didn't know until I read his biography page that there are a few grown-up tales behind these children's stories. It seems the late Theodor Geisel wasn't just a children's writer. He was a writer's writer. He took on issues and challenges. He worked hard to make his writing look effortless.

Green Eggs and Ham, for instance, was written on a bet that he couldn't write a book using only 50 words. (He succeeded). He wrote Cat in the Hat after there was there was outcry that kids didn't read because books were boring.

Other books take on world issues - The Lorax, obviously, is about environmentalism, and the Grinch, most could guess, is about anti-materialism. But I didn't know that The Butter Battle was about the arms race - although thinking back, I can see it, and Yertle the Turtle is a tale about anti-authoritarianism.(I may have to reread that one).

Reading Dr. Seuss as a child (and an adult) I never knew all that. I just knew I loved his books. I still do. They're fun to listen to, and they're actually hilarious to read out loud. My kids love them, and I love reading them. Horton, that crazy elephant, has actually brought me to tears more than once with his loyalty to that silly egg, and I don't cry about just anything, you know.

So here's one more bit of trivia about Dr. Seuss - and this might be the one thing that surprised me the most. His first book, And to Think I Saw It On Mulberry Street, was rejected by publishers 27 times.

You don't need a Kindle to read an Ebook

2010-02-28T09:49:00.001-08:00

So you can't afford one of those fancy, portable Ebook reading devices? Don't worry. You can still get in on the Ebook craze.

Ebooks are cheap (sometimes free), they're portable (you can put them onto a USB stick and carry them on your keychain), and all you need to read them is your computer. You can download them into the format of your choice.

Many people (me, too) believed for a long time that Ebooks could only be downloaded onto a Kindle or a Reader or a Nook or any of those devices. And I'm not knocking those - I think they're great. But they're also pricey, at least right now. In fact, at this point, I think I could either afford the device or the books, and I'm choosing the books.

The truth is when you buy an Ebook on a site like www.smashwords.com, you can choose your format. Smashwords, for instance, will even guide you if you're not sure what you're looking for. If you just want to download a PDF file, save it to your desktop and read it off your computer - or print it off chapter by chapter and take it work - no problem. There's even a version for those little Palm devices that so many of us are addicted to. And on most sites, you only have to buy once. So if you do opt for a Kindle mid-chapter, you can download another format for free.

Give it a try. There are lots of digital bookstores out there; you might find a new, affordable addiction. Now, ahem, at Smashwords, I've heard good things about that Death on Deadline book for a mere $4.99, but there are actually thousands of titles to choose from. More are added every day.

Happy Reading!

So print is dead? I beg to differ

2010-02-25T19:50:00.000-08:00

It was snowing. Big, fat, white flakes were falling hard and fast.

It was early, too, and I was driving carefully, on the lookout for those errant icy patches that can send your car into a tailspin before you know it. But so far, so good - although the snow was relentless, it didn't really seem to be sticking.

That's why the erratic behavior of the driver in front of me was so puzzling. He was in a late-model Saturn, and was weaving, just now and then, from side to side. If it hadn't been early morning, I would have thought I was behind a driver who was just a wee bit tipsy.

He'd straddle the left lane just a little bit, then over correct himself, then drive normally for a few blocks. Going over a bridge, he made a scary trip to the right side, way too close to the edge, spitting dirty snow and ice onto the cars and trucks traveling the freeway below.

I couldn't imagine he was hitting icy patches. If so, he was having quite a spell of bad luck. Because I hadn't hit any at all. I kept watching him - at a safe distance behind. And he kept up his strange little pattern.

Then it came time for me to make a right turn, while he continued on straight ahead. I pulled up alongside him at the light, and ventured a look inside his car. Instantly, I discovered the cause of his imbalance.

He was reading. Yep, reading. Not text messages, not a map, but a real book. Well, it looked like a book, at least - although I couldn't see the title from my viewpoint. As I stared through my driver's window, my mouth quite literally agog, he looked over at me. His expression was hard to decipher. He didn't look embarrassed or chagrined. No, it was actually more like the look a deep-in-thought library patron gives you when you accidentally bump the table. Distracted, maybe, or perhaps a little puzzled.

I hope my thoughts were written all over my face. I hope he could see that while I was incredibly happy he loved to read, I was extremely unhappy and surprised he had chosen this time to do so. And I hoped, above all, that he would close his book and focus on getting to his destination without hurting himself or anyone else.

But I had to smile the rest of the way to work. So they say print is dead, huh? I beg to differ.

'This is a pen!'

2010-02-23T18:11:00.001-08:00

Sitting in the darkened movie theater, I felt goosebumps travel down my arms as I watched the movie trailer.

On the screen, a teacher turns to his frightened student, placing a tool in his hands. "Take this to defend yourself," he tells him. "It's a powerful weapon. Use it only in times of great distress."

The teen looks down at the gift, disbelief written all over his face "This is a pen!" he says, somewhat frantically. "This is a pen!"

It is, of course, the preview for "Percy Jones and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief," and I won't be giving anything away if I tell you that the pen, in this case, is more than a pen - it's a magic sword.

But I thought it clever nonetheless. Any writer worth his ink knows pens don't need to turn into swords. Their power is within. Of course, a pen wouldn't protect Percy against Medusa in this mythological adventure, but who knows, maybe it was a few jagged barbs from one's ink that made her that mean and unforgiving in the first place. (Okay, okay, that and the fact she was changed into a hideous creature with writhing snakes for hair.)

Regardless, the power of words is breathtaking. Everyone has words that have changed their life - from "I love you" to "Go away,' to "Never again." Words can transform, lift, wound and cut. Most of us learned long ago to wield our pens wisely.

I can't wait to see the Percy Jackson movie this weekend, get lost in his adventure and take it all with a sense of good fun. And I hope more than one person smiles, at least on the inside, when Percy realizes just how powerful a pen can be.

Good advice never hurts

2010-02-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I write a little. Sometimes I write a lot. And other times, I'm ashamed to say, I just don't write at all. Oh, I think about it. I reprimand and reproach myself. But even while the creativity simmers, that spark just doesn't fan into a flame of productivity.

I become frustrated with myself. And it's at that time I look for a little motivation and advice from writers far more successful than I:

"If you want to be a writer, you must do two thing above all others: Read a lot, and write a lot. There's no way around these two things that I'm aware of, no shortcut." - Stephen King

"Writer's block is a lot like a head cold. You feel all stuffed up. Nobody seems to be able to help you. And you'll probably get well pretty soon all by yourself." - Marshall Cook

"Remember to get the weather in your god damned book. Weather is very important."
- Ernest Hemingway.

"When you write, don't say, 'I'm going to write a poem.' That attitude will freeze you right away. Sit down with the least expectation of yourself. Say, "I am free to write the worst junk in the world."If every time you sat down, you expected something great, writing would always be a great disappointment. And that expectation would keep you from writing." - Natalie Goldberg

"Look for clutter in your work. Be grateful for everything you can throw away. Re-examine each sentence that you put on paper. Is every word doing new work? Can any thought be expressed with more economy? Is anything pompous or pretentious? Are you hanging onto something useless just because you think it's beautiful? Simplify, simplify." William Zinsser

"Faire et se taire." (Shut up and get on with it.) - Flaubert

Capturing emotion through words

2010-02-18T18:22:00.000-08:00

"Show, don't tell." That's the advice all writers get, isn't it? Whether you're writing fiction or non-fiction, the best stories come from description borne of narrative. But finding the right words to illustrate emotion can be tough, I know.

There are some interviews, though, that make it easy.

In early December, 2001, I was doing a series on local folks who had volunteered with the Red Cross in New York City, going where they were needed, doing what they were asked, assisting with the aftermath of Sept. 11. Thinking back, it was a confusing, depressing time. But these volunteers were amazing. They were sincere. They were dedicated. And most of them had done simple, administrative work. But not the last woman I interviewed.

She didn't want to talk to me at first. She almost canceled, she told me. Nothing personal - she was just nervous.

She had been assigned to the Fresh Kills landfill, where they were taking the tons of scrap metal from the Twin Towers. Day after day, she told me, the barges would come in, loaded down with twisted, gnarled steel. She didn't know what was on the metal, or under it, and she didn't want to look.

"The smell," she told me, grasping my wrist, "was indescribable."

She had short red hair, and her eyes were bloodshot. Sometimes when she was talking, her hands shook, and when I looked down at them, I saw the nails had been chewed down past the quick - bitten so low they bled. When she saw me looking, she curled her fingertips under.

While she was on assignment, she said, she made coffee for exhausted workers. She fed their dogs. She washed their clothes and made their lunches. She wanted to cry nearly every day she was there, she said, thinking about those endless piles of smoking metal. But she didn't, she said. She didn't think she should. But when she got home, she said, she almost couldn't stop.

She ran her hand through her hair over and over again throughout the interview, and she burst into tears twice. At the end, she thanked me for listening.

"She's having a hard time," the Red Cross facilitator told me after she left. She didn't need to tell me. I'd already been shown.

Nearly two weeks later, the volunteer showed up at my newsroom with an envelope she'd made for me - for my little daughter, actually. She'd put it together herself. It was a letter from Santa, along with some reindeer "food" and some fake snow - in case we didn't get any that year, she said, and she smiled.

"It made me feel good to be able to do something for someone," she told me. "Even something small." I looked down at her hands as she handed me the envelope. Her fingertips were just starting to heal.

Death on Deadline - excerpt

2010-02-16T20:40:00.000-08:00

"...I wandered over to my computer desk. On top of it sat an old, portable manual typewriter – a relic that belonged to my dad, a leftover from his early days as a writer. I never used it, of course; I couldn't imagine pounding those heavy keys every day, but there was something about it I really liked. It was inspiring. It reminded me of my journalistic roots. I ran my hands over the smooth keys and thought of the hands that had painstakingly typed out words, letters and stories before me. These days, I’d take all the inspiration I could get.

To the side of the computer desk, in the kitchen, is the back wall of the apartment, with three parallel windows. In the daytime, they flood the place with natural light and now, at night, the lights in the surrounding homes twinkle, reminding me I’m not alone. It’s a good feeling.

Because, even though I rarely admit it, living alone can be a little daunting. Oh, it’s not the X, it’s not anybody. It’s just good to know sometimes that others are around. That’s why I like Yowza – it’s nice to have another heartbeat in the house.

I stretched. Good night. After a quick brush and a floss that would leave my dentist frowning, I slid under the covers and let my head fall against the pillow. I almost reached for a book on the nightstand, but I knew I’d never make it through the prologue.

I ran through tomorrow’s agenda in my head; it seemed like it would be pretty quiet. That was the last thing I thought before I dozed off.

I couldn't have been more wrong...."

From Death on Deadline, Chapter One. Available at www.smashwords.com

Don't bet it all on SpellCheck

2010-02-15T07:56:00.000-08:00

It seems so easy. You simply press a button, and - ta da!! - those spelling woes are over. But don't do it. Please. Don't trust SpellCheck. SpellCheck is like that bad boy (or girl) your parents always warned you about - it's impossible to stay away completely, but it's better for you if you try.

SpellCheck is, of course, that online dictionary that so many of us know and love. And I have no problem using it as a backup - I use it myself. It's a great tool when you know what you're looking for. And when you're typing fast or on deadline, it's wonderful to be able to double-check yourself.

But writers need to know how to spell; it's just that simple. And if we don't, we need to have a real dictionary by our side. I know some people find grammar boring and tedious and confusing, but it's all part of the game. We can't expect someone else to catch our errors - especially not overworked editors. That's just playing with fire. These words that we work so hard to find and develop and massage - they have our names above them. We want to be proud of them.

SpellCheck doesn't understand homonyms like their and there, or two, to and too. SpellCheck won't save us from the embarrassment of using it's and its incorrectly.

And sometimes (gasp!) SpellCheck works against us. SpellCheck offers suggestions, ones that can make "Obama" Osama, or change a "public" servant to someone far more risque. SpellCheck relies on us. We can't rely on SpellCheck. One wrong click, and ...

True horror story: At a tiny paper where I used to work, a reporter was chatting to her friend while she used SpellCheck on her story about a local bank robbery trial. This was awhile ago, so I'm sure the version she was using was extremely primitive. Regardless, her helpful SpellCheck suggested she change "testimony" to "testicle" throughout the copy. Engrossed in her phone conversation, she made the fateful wrong click. A very confused copy editor caught the errors and sent it back to her. The reporter was horrified and very angry - until she figured out what had happened, she assumed she was the victim of a mean-spirited prank.

And I'm betting she never offered SpellCheck the same level of trust again.

Read a little, write a lot

2010-02-13T10:39:00.000-08:00

There are hundreds of books out there that are designed to hone your skills as a writer. I know this because I think I own half of them. Some of them are wonderful. Others, not so much.

The best ones are the ones that are motivating, that really infuse in you the desire to devour the information in the pages and then create your own magic. Others are ponderous; the authors get caught up in their own hype, promoting their own offerings until you decide, reluctantly, that it just might be time for a nap.

A few of my favorites: "Writing Down the Bones," by the extremely motivational Natalie Goldberg; "On Writing," by Stephen King, (No, he's not scary - he's actually quite funny); "Bird by Bird," by Anne Lamott, which speaks more to the whole philosophy of writing; and "The Artist's Way," by Julia Cameron, a classic for would-be writers that is really a workbook. It forces you, with daily writing exercises, to get off your butt and get creative.

Oh, and about that - a little cautionary tale. I love to read. Almost too much, if there is such a thing. So, for a while, I pretty much collected writing books. And while I became quite schooled in all the nuances and motivations of other writers, I wasn't really getting anything done. I was employing a very specialized type of writer's procrastination, I guess. I highly recommend not falling into that trap.

Read a little, write a lot.

Just write something - anything!

2010-02-11T16:44:00.000-08:00

We all have great story ideas, words we want to get from our heads to our hands to the screens in front of us. But too many times, they never make it.

"I'm just not a writer," we say, shaking our heads. Or, "I wouldn't know how to begin." Sometimes, we get so close - we actually sit down, pencil and notebook in hand or laptop at the ready, and we ... stop. Those ideas? They stay just that - ideas. And regretfully, they never go any further.

I want to share with you what a clever editor once told me. She said, "Write something. Anything. Even if it's bad. Because if it's not down on paper, you can't fix it."

Her words have helped me dozens of times. I have written absolutely cringe-worthy leads. I've started stories with cliches. I've rifled through my notes, hemmed and hawed, and finally just picked a place to start. But once I had something down on paper, I could start editing. I could fix things. I could change a verb, add an adjective, take out some silly melodrama. I could write.

Not everybody is a terrific writer, not right off the bat. But we all have great ideas. And you get better at writing by reading great writing, and then creating some of your own. Don't let your great ideas go to waste. Put them down on paper - and then worry about the tough stuff.

Writing for your health

2010-02-10T16:38:00.001-08:00

I write because I like to, because it's fun for me. But did you know that it's good for you? Seriously. Turns out that journaling, or writing down your thoughts and feelings, actually has a multitude of health benefits.

Writing about the stresses of your day, the problems in your life, and figuring it all out on on paper is supposed to not only increase your cognitive function but strengthen your immune system and help you handle stress better. The only caveat is that you can't just write and write about how awful your life is and end it there - not that you would. Jeez, how depressing. You need to come up with a plan to make it better, or at least work through your feelings.

And for heaven's sake, please don't decide to write an angry letter to your boss or your mother-in-law, have a few drinks, and then mail it in a flurry of drunken rightousness. (Although, note to self: That could be a funny short story . . .)

I have a friend - and I swear this is a true story - who used to deal with her anger and stress by going out for a drive. Can you imagine?? In the ranking of bad choices, how high is that??? After a few near-misses on the highway, I think she began to realize the error of her ways. Journaling is at least a healthy, safe outlet for our feelings.

So will you be instantly happier once you start journaling? Maybe. Maybe not. But hey, I say it's like chicken soup when you have a cold: It can't hurt.

Poetry for winter weather

2010-02-09T16:01:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you have the perfect words to describe what you're seeing and feeling. And sometimes somebody else does.

This poem by Ogden Nash perfectly describes the beauty and exhilaration of today's snowstorm in my adopted state of Michigan:

Winter Morning

Winter is the king of showmen
Turning tree stumps into snowmen
And houses into birthday cakes
And sprinkling sugar over lakes
Smooth and clean and frosty white
The world looks good enough to bite
That's the season to be young
Catching snowflakes on your tongue

Quirky Moments Provide Story Ideas

2010-02-08T17:19:00.000-08:00

Whenever I talk about writing, the question I get the most often is this: "Where do you find your story ideas?" And luckily, the answer is fairly easy. From freelance to fiction, ideas are borne of those quirky little moments that make up a life.

For instance, where I work, there's a little man who always faces me when we ride the elevator together. That's all. He just faces me. But think about it - that's not elevator protocol. Elevator protocol dictates you face front, looking at the numbers. But no, this little guy looks toward the back, at me, with a big smile on his face, making the trip a surreal, somewhat hilarious three- to five-minute ride. There's a story in there somewhere - probably more than one.

And sometimes, on the way to work, I'll take a circuitious route that takes me past this little take-out chicken place. In the morning, early, I'll see their mascot, this giant chicken (naturally) walking back and forth on the sidwalk, flapping his wings, looking bored to tears and like he's yearning for a smoke. When I drive by and stop at the light, he waves to me, somewhat frantically, it seems. I've taken to waving tentatively back. I have to wonder what that job is like - along with all the other dress-up jobs we see, like the Statue of Liberty who'll do your taxes or the iconic Chuck E. Cheese.

If we pay attention to life's quirky moments, our writing notebooks will never be empty.

Writing from the heart

2010-02-07T14:50:00.001-08:00

Valentine's Day is right around the corner, and with it comes the classic quandary: Finding that perfect gift. This year, why not try something new? Instead of - or better yet, along with - the classic chocolates and flowers, why not try writing down what's in your heart?

It doesn't have to be perfect. In fact, it's sometimes even more powerful if it's flawed. Keep it simple - maybe it's a short story, a remembrance of your first date. Or maybe it's a poem. Give it a try. I'm hardly a poet. I'm not schooled in classic poetry, I confess I like things that rhyme, and getting all mushy kind of makes me uncomfortable. But when my husband and I were dating, I presented him with a poem as a Valentine's Day present. It was silly, really - more of an ode to how much he did for me, how he was always there when I needed him, and how much I loved him for it.

It had four stanzas. It rhymed. It was, in retrospect, classically bad poetry. I didn't care. It was for his eyes only. And when he read it, it was the first time I saw his eyes fill up with tears. It was only then, I think, that I realized just how powerful writing from the heart can be. Today, 17 years later, that poem is framed and still up on his dresser. It still makes me smile every time I pass by.

Judging a book by its cover

2010-02-05T17:53:00.000-08:00

A little while ago, in the grocery store, I got in line behind an elderly man. He was kind of sweet looking, with oversized glasses and a careworn face. "Oh, a grandfather," I thought to myself, smiling slightly at him. Then grandpa let 'er rip.
"Young people have just gone to hell these days," he told the stoic-faced clerk. "I can't go anywhere without getting angry."
He continued in that vein for a good five minutes. He hated this thing, this other thing was terrible, and he couldn't believe how awful everything else was. At first I was surprised. Then I felt sorry for him. Finally, I really just wanted him to shut the hell up.
Compare that story to this one: A few nights after that, coming home from work, I was stopping off at Arby's. (Ok, yes, you caught me. I eat at Arby's. I know - I feel bad about it because I like cows. But those junior sandwiches are so dang tasty!) Anyway, the parking lot was very dark, and there weren't many cars. As I was pulling in, a car sped in behind me and pulled up a few spaces away. Two guys got out - big guys. They had a little bit of a swagger to their walk, and while I'm no wimp, I thought, "Why ask for trouble?" and hesitated a second, pretending to goof around with my car door so they could walk ahead and go in first. It was freezing out, (of course - it is Michigan, after all) and as I moved closer to the entrance, one of the big guys turned around. Even though I still had quite a bit of distance to cover, he waited - holding the door open for me and letting me go in ahead of him. "Thank you!" I said, honestly surprised and pleased.
He just smiled. "You're welcome," he said.
Yep, you guessed it. In both cases, I'd labeled these two books by their covers. And I realized later that not only was I doing it in life, I was doing it in literature, too.
I've been in a rut - reading the same type of fiction over and over, simply because I'd told myself at some point in time I didn't read "that type of book."
Romances? Ugh. No way. Non-fiction. Booooring. I just read mysteries, thank you very much. By my favorite authors. I knew their style, and I liked it. I just, um, hoped they could write fast enough, because I really like to read.
So I decided it was time to branch out. I chose a paranormal romance by Heather Graham called "Ghostwalk." It was great. Then I found out she's a prolific author who has written literally dozens more books. Non-fiction? I played it safe with the well-known "Julie and Julia" by Julie Powell. Excellent - and far funnier than I thought it would be. It actually made me want to read Julia Child's memoir. Emboldened by experience, I even decided to try a "dog book," long against my principles because something bad ALWAYS happens to the dog and leaves me horribly depressed. But I picked up a copy of Jon Katz' "Dog Days" and God bless him, right there, after the dedication, he stuck in a page saying, in part: "To my readers: No dogs die in this book." Love that!!
I'm embarrassed it's taken me this long to branch out. Oh, I still love mysteries - heck, I just WROTE one. But there are shelves and shelves of great reading material got there - it would be a shame to judge all those titles before I even read the first page.

Paralyzed by Word Perfection?

2010-02-04T21:01:00.000-08:00

I'm not a perfectionist. I don't need things "just so." As a matter of fact, most of the time, I'm exceedingly laid back. Except when it comes to writing. There's something about finding the right word, that elusive adjective, the perfect verb, that can simply paralyze my fingers on the keyboard.
If you're a writer, you probably know the drill. It happens so suddenly, you hardly realize it. You're in a zone, typing out a scene or a quote or a sentence and suddenly - blank. You know there's a perfect word for what you're trying to describe, but you ... just ...can't... find ...it. And you stop. You think. You wait. You try to remember, and it's so close - but it's just out of your grasp. And then before you know it, your creative streak has ended. You're stuck. Over one stupid word.
That used to bother me, this obsession with word perfection. Then I met an editor who sliced and diced the English language as dramatically as those tableside chefs at Japanese restauants prepare your meal. Yes, come to think of it, she was the Benihana's of editors. It was amazing and terrifying to behold.
For instance, if she didn't know what word to use, one of her favorite tricks was to simply put an "ical" on the end of it. Like, "That description is too graphical," or "The photo isn't dramatical enough." She wasn't stupid - in fact, she had a master's degree. But she just didn't care. She wasn't a word perfectionist. And listening to her cringe-worthy sentences made me feel a little happier that I was.
So now, I try not to let my obsession paralyze me. If I'm writing a story and I can't think of the right word, I just put in whatever word I can think of - kind of like a placeholder. I mark it, highlight it, and come back - with a thesaurus and more patience. It's a pain in the butt. It slows me down. But as any word lover will tell you - it's worth it.

Armadillo shortages and cold weather

2010-02-03T18:14:00.000-08:00

So I had someone ask me today, "When are you going to start writing another book?" Ouch, baby!! Classic foul - like asking the mother of a newborn when she's going to get pregnant again. But I knew her intentions were good, and because of this, I resisted taking off my shoe and beating her with it.
But writers write. That's what they do. And I love writing. I even love the basics - choosing just the right word, putting the sentences together, working hard to make the language flow. So I do need to choose another project. I know that. But I want to choose just the right one.
When I was a newspaper reporter, it was so easy. Life was right there. There's a reason all those cop shows say their storylines are "ripped from the headlines." It's because they're really good headlines. (Thank you, copy editors). When I worked at a little paper in Logansport, Ind., the reporters would schlep in about 7:30 a.m. (I'd always be late, naturally), find a story, report it and have it written by 11:30 a.m. - noon if the copy desk was feeling generous. That was the deal - come in, find one, write one, and if you're lucky, use the afternoon to get a jumpstart on the next one. At the time, I thought it was just horribly unfair - my muse did not care for the operating schedule.
But truthfully, it was great training. After that gig, I rarely had trouble coming up with ideas. Of course, now and then, the head honcho would throw a crimp in your plans. You'd be all set to head out on a great story, and he (or she) would come over and lean in on your desk, saying conspiratorially, "You know, I haven't seen as many armadillos around this year. Don't you think that's odd?" Um, okay. You'd know what was coming, and soon the headline over your byline would boast the winning tale of "Armadillo shortages on tap this season?"
Or around, say, the end of September, you'd get another visit from above, when you learned that "It sure is cold outside. I wonder how cold it will get this winter?" And soon, under your byline would be the scintillating tale of "Cold weather on tap this winter?" You get the idea.
But those were exceptions. Usually, there were a multitude of interesting things to write about. So fiction, I'd think, would be even easier. Heck, it's pretend!! I don't even have to get the quotes right. But for some reason - maybe because I'm new - I'm very tentative about starting over, choosing the right storyline, making sure it fits. Or maybe, I think if I choose the wrong one, the editors will come back. With more story ideas.

And we're up! (So do I want you to look?)

2010-02-02T16:41:00.000-08:00

So it took awhile, but Death on Deadline is finally a reality. It's up on www.smashwords.com, with thousands of other self-published offerings. Of course, the cover isn't quite finished yet, so it looks a little naked, but it's up there. I'm delighted. And petrified.
My friend and business partner, the irreplaceble Traci Bauer, handled the uploading, the formatting, and all the tough stuff - all I had to do was check out the completed product. But truthfully, it took me a little while to screw up the courage to even take a look.
See, that book has been mine for so long, it's taking a little adjustment knowing that everybody and their brother can read it. I think most writers feel that way when they first share their work. Oh, it's not that I'm shy - far from it. Heck, I'm the one who gave out far too much information about every trip to the OB/GYN when I was pregnant. But a story - or any kind of writing - becomes part of you. Sharing can be tough. In fact, I told my friend today that publishng that book was actually like having a baby - I was so worried about the birth, I had no idea what to do with it once it arrived. So I'll just figure it out, step by step. And it won' throw up all over me, or keep me up nights, so that's a plus.

The History of Me

2009-10-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

I once worked for an editor who spent her weekends at Renaissance fairs, dressed as a princess and carrying her two ferrets around in a basket.

I once worked for a publisher who used to nervously tap his testicles in board meetings.

And I once worked for a section editor who used to use words like "conversate," and tell me that my story ideas had "passed mustard," instead of "passed muster."

I didn't kill any of them. Just for the record. You know, in case you ever have to testify on my behalf. That's not why I wrote "Death on Deadline." No, I wrote my soon-to-be-published novel, "Death on Deadline" because of the the zucchini bread. See, at one of the newspapers where I worked, I remember I came in from an assignment one day to find a gaggle of reporters gathered around a table, wolfing down on a loaf of zucchini bread. I helped myself to a slice. It was, in fact, delicious.

"Wow, where did this come from?" I asked the circle. Everyone shrugged, their mouths filled with crumbs. No one had any idea. It was then I realized that if someone wanted to off a group of journalists, the easiest way to do it - aside from poisoning the local liquor supply - would likely be to slide some nasty food their way because, let's face it - if it's there and it's free, reporters will eat it.

So is that enough of a premise for a book? No, of course not, silly. But that, combined with 17 years of working with quirky reporters, ferret-loving editors and testicle-tapping publishers just might be.

So I decided to give it a try. "Death on Deadline" is a murder mystery that takes place in a newsroom, and it's funny. Except for the whole murder part. But still. And it's all fiction, so if you worked with me, and you think I gave you the stink eye the whole time, don't worry, you're not in there. THIS time.

So, I hope you like it and yeah, I hope you buy it. And if you don't, that's okay, too. Because I'm guessing if you're checking out this blog, you're probably a writer, and you're probably watching your pennies. But regardless, I hope you like the posts; feel free to add your own thoughts about writing. Anything motivational is always welcome, believe me. And if you used to work in newspapers, share a story or two. Because you know what? I still miss them. And all the free food.