The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They’re there to stop the other people.
–– Randy Pausch (author of The Last Lecture)
Do you relate?
By Elaine Viets
We’ve all seen zombie series: a string of novels that are barely alive, dragged by their authors from one publisher to another. Each zombie novel staggers to its feet, but dies quickly. It’s hard to survive without a heart.
The kindest – and smartest – thing to do is end your series before it becomes a zombie.
I’ve written three mystery series:
My first mystery series featured Francesca Vierling, a six-foot tall St. Louis newspaper columnist. After four Francesca novels the publisher wiped out the division.
These novels are hard-boiled. Francesca investigates a transvestite’s murder in Backstab and the death of a RUB, a rich urban biker, in Rubout. In The Pink Flamingo Murders, a ruthless gentrifier comes to a terrible end: stabbed with a pink plastic flamingo. In Doc in the Box, bad doctors get the deaths they deserve.
After the hard-boiled Francesca series ended, I worked dead-end jobs until my agent sold Shop Till You Drop, my first Dead-End Job mystery, to Penguin. This series features Helen Hawthorne, a St. Louis woman on the run in South Florida. I was writing traditional mysteries, cheerfully slaughtering awful bosses and annoying customers. Penguin saved me from being trapped in dead-end jobs. I could quit them to write my mysteries.
In book five, Penguin took the Dead-End Job series from paperback to hardcover. They’d already asked me to write a cozy series featuring mystery shopper Josie Marcus. Josie was supposed to be a three-book series. Dying in Style, the first Josie book, tied with Stephen King’s mystery on the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association list.
I happily wrote two mysteries a year. Suddenly, it was 2015. I turned in book ten of the “three book” Josie Marcus mystery-shopper series. Checked Out, my fourteenth Dead-End Job hardcover, was published.
And I wanted to return to the dark side. After fifteen years of writing traditional, cozy mysteries, I’m starting a dark series featuring Death Investigator Angela Richman. Death investigators work out of the medical examiner’s office. At a death scene, the DI takes charge of the body, photographing it, documenting the wounds, and more. The police investigate the rest of the crime scene.
Why return to this gritty world?
Because I never left. I love cozies, but they’re not all kittens and cupcakes. I prefer relentless Miss Marple, the fluffy knitter who declared “I am Nemesis” and brought killers to justice.
I’d kept writing darkly humorous short stories for anthologies such as Crimes by Moonlight: Mysteries from the Dark Side, edited by Charlaine Harris, and short stories for Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. “The Bride Wore Blood” was not for the “Say Yes to the Dress” crowd.
This January I passed the MedicoLegal Death Investigators Training Course for forensic professionals, given by Saint Louis University’s School of Medicine. The intense training made sure I had the most up-to-date forensic information.
Look at the agenda for one morning, as taught by pathologists:
Gunshot wound fatalities, explosion-related deaths, motor vehicle fatalities, and drowning. At lunch, we watched a teen driving and alcohol video. After lunch, we studied alcohol-related deaths, suicide, blunt-trauma fatalities, and more.
My mystery writing colleagues welcomed me back. Fourteen top writers blurbed the Death Investigator proposal.
Diamond Dagger winner Lee Child said, “So happy to see Viets back to doing what she does best—dark, edgy, character-driven crime. Count me delighted.”
Ann Cleeves, author of the Vera Stanhope and Shetland series, said, “I think you’ve got everything here that a reader loves—a hospital drama and thriller, a strong central character. Made much more interesting because the central character is a very unreliable narrator.”
Charlaine Harris, who thoroughly explores the dark side, said, “Elaine Viets has written the exciting first book in a multilayered crime novel series. Angela Richman is not only an investigator but a victim in this complex novel of crime, punishment, and medical malfeasance.”
I asked almost two thousand readers if they’d follow me to the dark side. More than 75 percent said they’d read the new Death Investigator series. Almost half said they’d prefer the new series and more than half said they’d read both.
“I would love to see you tackle something a little darker,” one wrote. “As a male, the new series appeals to me.”
Yes, sir. Death Investigator Angela Richman debuts as a short story in the November Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine.
And I’ve signed a two-book contract with Thomas & Mercer for the Angela Richman Death Investigator series. Brain Storm will be out late summer 2016. Fire and Ashes debuts in 2016.
I still enjoy writing about Helen Hawthorne’s lighthearted adventures in South Florida. My 15th Dead-End Job mystery, The Art of Murder, will be out in May 2016.
But Josie Marcus, my cozy mystery series, is now on hiatus. I’ve experimented with all the cozy variations. Josie is in a good place: She’s happy with her new husband. Josie’s teenage daughter, Amelia, is about to become a young woman. Josie’s mother has met a man she loves.
I may bring Josie back some day. But not as a zombie.
I will be on the road today en route to Bouchercon, so I won’t be able to respond. Here is a question for you to discuss amongst yourselves.
Do you prefer to read about clever crimes, ingenious crimes, heinous crimes, or funny crimes? Do you like these scenes to be offstage or on site?
See examples of each below.
Clever crime: Stabbing victim with icicle that later melts, dissolving the murder weapon. Or using the victim’s own medications against him.
Ingenious crime: Getting a person who has a bee allergy in contact with an aggressive bee. Maybe multiple people get stung, disguising the true victim. This one takes more thought and planning than a mere clever crime.
Heinous crime: Abducting and murdering people then cutting up their body parts or dissolving them in acid.
Funny crime: Beating the victim with a frozen turkey and then cooking it up for the cops.
Which type do you prefer in the mysteries you read or write?
How good are your self-editing skills? Take the following test, and see how well you score! (The quiz is brought to you courtesy of today’s guest, writer and editor Debbie Burke.)
Self-Editing Pop Quiz
This morning, let’s imagine we’re back in school and the teacher announces a pop quiz to test your self-editing skills. Did you do your homework?
1. Scan your WIP and highlight every form of the verb “to be.” How many times per page did you use:
is
are
am
was/were
had
been
Tally your score:
Fewer than 5 per page: Excellent
Between 5 and 10 per page: Very good, but could use more active verbs
More than 20 per page: Work on how to “de-was” with strong, active, specific verbs.
Many years ago, I took a workshop from the late, great Montana mystery author James Crumley. He shared with me how to “de-was” and I’ve never forgotten. This single skill goes a long way to transform your writing into active, muscular prose.
2. Read the first few paragraphs of each new scene or chapter. Can a reader quickly determine:
WHO is present?
WHERE they are?
WHEN is the scene taking place?
If you can answer these questions, you’ve done a good job of orienting your reader immediately in the story world. Give yourself a point each time you effectively set the scene.
3. Do a global search for what I call “junk” words that add little information and dilute the power of your prose. Score a point every time you delete one of the below “junk” or “stammer” words.
There is (was)
it is (was)
that
just
very
nearly
quite
rather
sort of
turned to
started to
began to
commenced to
Editor Jessi Rita Hoffman calls the last four examples “stammer verbs” that weaken the verb that follows, i.e. Barbara began to race to escape the zombie.
Stronger version: Barbara raced to escape the zombie.
Stammer verb exception: when an action is interrupted or changed, i.e. Robert started to run, but tripped over the corpse.
4. How many of your characters’ names start with the same letter?
Deduct a point if you’ve christened more than two characters with the same first letter, i.e. Michael, Mallory, Millie, Moscowitz, Melendez.
Deduct a point for rhyming or similar-sounding names: Billy, Lily, Julie.
Extra credit: if none of your characters’ names ends with “S,” give yourself a point for avoiding the unnecessary complication of figuring out whether it should be “Miles’s machine gun,” or “Miles’ machine gun.”
5. Do you exploit all five senses? Writers most often use sight and hearing, and ignore the other senses that can add texture and richness to the reader’s immersion in the story world.
Give yourself a point each time you employ one of the under-used senses of taste, touch, and smell.
Extra credit: for dramatic effect, deprive your characters of normal sensory input, i.e.
A blindfolded kidnap victim who cannot see where captors are taking her.
An explosion-deafened soldier who cannot hear the enemy stalking him.
6. The English language constantly challenges even experienced authors. In the eyes of editors and agents, improper usage of common words marks a writer as an amateur. Choose the correct word for each of the following:
(a) It’s [or] its a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
(b) The bear retreated to its [or] it’s den as winter closed in.
(c) Hurricane Katrina effected [or] affected every home in New Orleans.
(d) The affect [or] effect of Hurricane Katrina continued long after the rains ended.
(e) After the lobotomy, McMurphy possessed a flat affect [or] effect.
(f) The farther [or] further the boat drifted from the shore, the harder Joe paddled.
(g) The further [or] farther you pursue this tangent, the more you lose credibility.
(h) The magician made an allusion [or] illusion to Houdini’s famous “vanishing elephant”illusion [or] allusion.
(i) Robert implied [or] inferred that Janet was a tramp.
(j) Since Janet had been convicted of prostitution, Robert inferred [or] implied she was a tramp.
(k) The witness that [or] who saw the assault ran away.
(l) Winston tastes good like [or] as a cigarette should. (Trick question for those of a certain age.)
Answers at the end. Score 1 for each correct answer.
The Elements of Style by Strunk and White is my go-to reference whenever I’m not sure of correct word usage. I find answers to 98% of my questions in Strunk and White.
7. Scan an entire chapter. How many times is the first word of a new paragraph the name of your character or a pronoun referring to that character (he or she)?
8+ out of 10 times – Normal for the first draft, but try varying sentence structure to begin paragraphs in different ways.
5 out of 10 times – Better, but still needs work.
2 out of 10 times – You display good variability in paragraph structure.
8. Point of View—do you stay consistently in the same character’s head for the entire scene? Doyou switch point of view only when a scene changes or when a new chapter begins?
How many POV changes can you find in the following passage?
Silky sheets caressed Teresa’s naked skin, as her heartbeat quickened. She watched Zack, framed in the doorway, as he unbuttoned his shirt. Secret fantasies he’d harbored for months were about to come true. Teresa’s heavy-lidded eyes promised a welcome worth waiting for. She quivered inside with trepidation. Would he be disappointed or thrilled? With a sweep of his sinewy arm, Zack whipped back the sheet, stunned to discover Teresa was really Terrance.
Answer: Four. The paragraph starts in Teresa’ POV because she feels the sheets and her heartbeat. Then POV switches to Zack and his secret fantasies, which she might guess, but can’t know about since they’re inside his head. Then back to Teresa, quivering inside. Then back to Zack being stunned.
If you struggle with POV, lock yourself inside the head and body of the POV character.Everything that goes on in that scene must be within the eyesight, earshot, or touch of that character. That means the character might be able to look at his own feet, but he can’t see the broccoli stuck in his teeth. Only another character can do that…and I certainly hope she tells him about it soon!
9. Is the action described in chronological order? Does cause lead to effect? Does action trigger reaction? Is the choreography clear to the reader? Who is where doing what to whom?
If you understand the last sentence, give yourself 10 points and deduct 10 points from my score!
How would you rewrite the following confusing sentence?
George slashed Roger’s throat with the knife as he grabbed him from behind after he sneaked into the warehouse.
How about: Knife in hand, George sneaked into the warehouse, grabbed Roger from behind, and slashed his throat.
Just as messy, but much clearer to the reader because events unfold in the order they happened.
10. Do you read your work out loud? If so, give yourself an automatic 10 points.
When you read out loud, you catch repeated or missing words, awkward phrasing, and sentences that are too long. “Glide” is the term used by author/editor Jim Thomsen to describe smooth, effortless, clear writing. Glide is like riding in a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce as opposed to bucking and shuddering in a 1973 Pinto with bad spark plugs and a flat tire.
For extra credit, have someone else read your work out loud. If he or she can read without stumbling, you’ve achieved glide. Award yourself 25 bonus points.
Answers to 6 (a) it’s, (b) its, (c) affected, (d) effect, (e) affect, (f) farther, (g) further, (h) allusion, illusion, (i) implied, (j) inferred, (k) who, (l) Despite the catchy slogan from the 1950s, correct use would be as. Back then, liquor couldn’t advertise on TV, but cigarettes could. Now liquor ads are common, but few people even remember commercials for cigarettes. How times change!
How did you do? Tell us in the Comments!
Fewer errors equal less distractions and a more engaged reader. A more engaged reader equals more sales.
And that equals an A+.
Debbie Burke lives in Montana, where she greets every morning with coffee and TKZ. Her articles (under the name A. Burke) appear in regional, national, and international periodicals. She has edited numerous published books and enjoys mentoring young writers. Her suspense thriller Instrument of the Devil will be published next summer.
I have PJ Parrish to thank for my present whereabouts.
My wife and I have been planning a Big Trip to celebrate our 20th anniversary, and the destination — an easy choice — was France. We’ve been researching it for a year, the itinerary growing to a three-week monster with four stops, including the final 10 days in Paris.
Then I read one of PJ’s recent posts two weeks ago, where she told us she was in the Loire Valley in France, sitting on the deck of her chateau (pretty sure that’s not what she said, but it’s what I pictured, because that’s what NY Times bestselling authors do, right?) as she wrote that day’s post.
I hadn’t heard of the Loire Valley, so I looked it up.
Immediately our itinerary changed. Out with Lucerne and Normandy, in with four days in the Loire Valley to tour some of those massive castles and — this time I’ll use it accurately — ancient Chateaus.
I’d like to say I’m sitting on a deck, too, as I write this, but it’s the day before we leave and I owe The Kill Zone at least two posts while I’m gone. So I’ve decided to excerpt my new writing book, “Story Fix: Transform Your Novel From Broken to Brilliant,” which was released in full this week (after two weeks in pre-release on Kindle).
This excerpt is from Chapter 11, “Spinning Hope From Rejection.” It addresses the quandary we face when our work is rejected — do we simply submit it somewhere else, or do we ponder the story behind the rejection (if there is one) and do a little more work on it.
We join the book on page 168 for the following:
TO REVISE, OR NOT TO REVISE
Then again, every rejection slip does not necessarily signal the need for a major revision. Your story may be perfectly fine as is. The rejection may come from a source you do not understand, and therefore do not value. More often, though, harsh criticism and rejection may actually be the wake-up call the writer needs. And thus, it’s on the shoulders of the writer to know the difference—timing rather than a lack of sufficient craft—and to use feedback in all its forms to accurately assess the story’s strengths and weaknesses and apply that feedback to move forward accordingly. The tools and processes apply to any origin of the need for story repair, however it is conveyed—be it a rejection or simply a depressing hunch that won’t leave you alone.
Worthy stories, some of which go on to success, certainly do get rejected all the time, both by agents and publishers. These are the stuff of urban legend. Do a quick Google search and you’ll find them everywhere. I’ll mention again the quote from esteemed author William Goldman: “Nobody knows anything.”
It’s too true. But it’s also a risky way to place your bet. Because you could rationalize the rejection of your story as simply a case of timing or another agent who doesn’t get it rather than a legitimate red flag that should get your attention. We can be sure that Kathryn Stockett didn’t revise her manuscript forty-six times, one for each instance of rejection. But because she hasn’t talked about it, we can’t say for sure how those rejections colored her subsequent sequence of drafts, if at all.
Right here is where a paradox kicks in: If you don’t possess the knowledge to nail it the first time out, and are now stuck with the need to revise, how can you leverage feedback and rejection in the writing of a subsequent draft to solve those problems? You’re the same writer who wrote that flawed story. How can you suddenly, without elevating your skill set, attempt to hoist good toward greatness? That’s like asking a toddler who has just fallen off his bicycle to simply get back up and try it again, without showing him what went wrong. A lot of fathers have tried just that method over the years—“It builds character,” they say—and it’s always a recipe for further frustration and tears, as well as a few Band-Aids.
You can’t expect to take your story higher with the same skill set as before, at least to the extent that you don’t understand the feedback itself. But you’re here, you’re learning the unique tools and principles that drive successful revision, and that just might change everything about your next swing at the story.
As professional writers we are beyond the need to use our work as a means of personal character building. We require knowledge applied toward the growth of something much more amorphous and elusive: a heightened storytelling sense.
You can no longer be a suffering artist first and foremost, and a professional writer, too.
A starving professional writer, perhaps, but suffering is optional in the professional realm, because there are tools and principles to rely on. Suffering artists can, and do, create their own boundaries and standards for their craft. They can blame those chatty muses they’re always listening to, and in essence they may choose to believe they can do this thing called writing any way they choose. Because it is art. Market expectations and principles be damned. But even the most ardent followers of organic craft align with the principles that make a story work, so process really isn’t the question at all, at any level. Criteria, benchmarks, and principles are what matter, combined with passion, vision, and the perseverance that is surely part of the job description.
In the long and dark list of reasons why a story doesn’t work, why it gets rejected and requires extensive repair, the writer’s need to suffer is a common seed of dysfunction. It leads to procrastination, the claim of unfairness, and an ignorance of the options. Writers who don’t summon the context of the principles of craft as part of their story sensibility, who go about it in the belief they can invent the structures and tropes and forces that make stories work, tend to populate the roster of the rejected, and sadly, colonize the roster of the self-published, casting a shadow over the multitude of very fine self-published books right next to them.
Even when this happens to a small degree, success becomes elusive.
Your art, in this case, wrapped in the limiting paradox of your process, often becomes your excuse for not finding an agent, or not selling when you do. “They just don’t get me” is the graveside plea of the unpublished, unprofessional writer. While, in the meantime, the professional writer stays in the trenches to learn what went wrong and how to fix it.
What is the role of luck in a writing career? The ever-understated Joe Konrath offered this thought recently: Maybe You Suck.
Some people don’t like me preaching on and on about how luck is possibly the single most important factor of success.
Some of these folks insist that good writing will always find an audience.
Some say those with success deserve it.
Some say my insistence that luck is important is a form of humble bragging, since I’ve sold a few million books.
Some don’t like the fact that luck is beyond their control, and they believe talent and hard work always win out.
Some think they make their own luck.
I’ll bite. Let’s say I’m wrong. Let’s say luck isn’t as big of a factor as I think.
Have you reached the level of success you want? If so, and you don’t believe luck was involved, good for you. I suppose you can make a case for yourself, the same way every self-made millionaire makes a case when they write their inevitable “How I Did It” books. I don’t know how many people have read the Essays of Warren Buffet and then became billionaires, but perhaps a lot have. Maybe good, solid advice, a strong work ethic, and loads of talent, coupled with a how-to template, can make anyone a raging success.
But what if you aren’t a raging success, and you still don’t believe in luck?
Well, maybe you suck.
Joe is not playing self-esteem mommy here. He’s more like R. Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket. “Maybe you’re incapable of putting out good books,” he says, “no matter how much time you spend at it.”
Ouch.
What are you going to do with a line like that?
You have two choices.
Just like the apple-cheeked marines under the unrelenting drill sergeant, you have two choices.
You can fold and quit.
Or you can get tough and keep going.
Choose get tough.
Now drop and give me twenty … pages.
If you’re a real writer, meaning someone who has to write, who desires to tell stories, who has an inner fire to put words down, you keep writing no matter what.
Which means you have to do something about your writing weaknesses.
But know this: All writers have weaknesses. It’s just that some are more apparent than others.
I once heard a professional golfer talking about the difference between the pros and skilled amateurs. He said professionals simply don’t make as many mistakes. Over time, their missed shots will be by smaller margins than the amateurs.
That’s a good analogy for the difference between writers who sell and those who do not (or not as much they would like). Even A-list writers make mistakes. But there are fewer of them, and not many are egregious.
So be honest about your weaknesses. Find people who will tell you what you need to work on.
You can hire an editor, or go to something like the Writer’s Digest 2d Draft service.
You can find some readers who will give you honest feedback.
Once you identify weak points, do something to improve them.
Read craft books.
Attend a writers conference and applicable workshops.
Write your quota and apply what you learn.
And while that still doesn’t guarantee any specific level of success, it does improve your odds. Which is what “luck” is really all about.
When I was a young and impetuous college roustabout, my roomies and I would take occasional trips to Vegas and, more recently, try out phone casinos. I learned the blackjack system in a famous book, Beat the Dealer. What that meant was I could get just about even with the house advantage. Which also meant, over time, I would do better than the hardware store owner from Tulsa who relied on pure luck when asking for a hit on a 10–7.
As you get better at the fundamentals of the craft, and as you produce more work, your odds will improve.
As one wag put it, “The harder I work, the luckier I get.”
But what if luck doesn’t happen the way you want it to?
I’ll tell you: It does not matter in the slightest to a real writer!
A real writer never gives up, because that’s the only sure way to lose.
Don’t let luck or fate or fear stop you from doing what you should do every day of your life: write!
(Okay, not every day. You get a pass for funerals, family crises, arrests, car crashes, food poisoning, driving from L.A. to Colorado, and Disneyland. Other than that, you write).
You don’t want to be sitting in a bar twenty years from now, hoisting your third brew, muttering to the stranger next to you, “Yeah, I used to be a writer. It’s a tough racket.”
You are a writer, so keep writing, keep growing, keep hammering away, and don’t spend one minute grousing about luck.
Carpe Typem.
Seize the Keyboard.
Smartphone image – free license from Wikipedia Commons
Please enjoy Instrument of the Devil, submitted anonymously for feedback. My comments are on the flip side.
INSTRUMENT OF THE DEVIL – A suspense thriller
“Instrument of the devil!” Tawny Lindholm glared at the new smartphone that her well-meaning son had sent for her fiftieth birthday. “I can’t even figure out how to call for help.”
The glossy black screen reflected her scowl while a musical tone dinged. What did that mean? She had tapped, swiped, and imitated other gestures she’d watched people make while zipping around the screens of their phones. They got directions, played games, texted, and now and then, made a plain old phone call. It looked so simple.
The screen remained blank, indifferent to her frustration. “If someone calls me, I don’t even know how to answer you.” The damn thing had her talking to herself.
A different tone chimed five times. Was this an incoming call? Or had she accidentally told the thing to launch a missile?
While Dwight was sick, she’d used a simple cell phone, no problem. Flip it open, punch in numbers, and connect with doctors, the oxygen company, friends, and finally, on a July night nine months ago, the funeral home.
Tawny didn’t need this monster that barely fit in her palm.
The bubble package came from an online retailer with a printed message on the address label. Happy Birthday, Mom. Love, Neal. She couldn’t even return it to a local store. If it hadn’t been a gift from him, she would gladly have smashed it against the wall. She still might.
She decided to name the thing Lucifer.
She sat at the breakfast bar, fingering a postcard that had arrived in the mail, along with the birthday package. Baffled by your smartphone? Free class. Easy, fun, impress your grandchildren. If she went, she’d be the dumbest one there. But how else could she learn? No instruction booklet had come with the phone.
The oldies station Dwight had liked played in the kitchen. The Temptations’ “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” faded out. “I’m begging someone to put me out of my misery,” she answered the radio.
The announcer came on, promoting the same free class described on the postcard. Tawny turned up the volume. “Learn how to operate your smartphone. Tonight, seven o’clock, at the library in downtown Kalispell.”
First, the postcard, now the radio ad. Someone was sending a message. Might as well pay attention. Besides, what else did she have to do, except sit home in a silent house, listening to mysterious beeps and whistles on the phone?
Feedback:
1.) This intro is for a suspense thriller. but it reads more like a cozy mystery to me since it starts off with an almost funny scene of a woman trying to navigate a new cell phone.(I could definitely relate.) The title – Instrument of the Devil – seems to refer to the phone itself. Presumably if the cell had a previous owner, who carries a pitch fork and dons horns, the plot could turn into something scarier than the latest Google app. We only have 400 words or so to make a determination if we want to read further, so every word is a precious opportunity to snag the attention of an editor, agent, or a reader. In my opinion, this intro sends a mixed message, if the author intends for this to be a thriller.
2.) The narrative starts with the woman already dealing with her confusion over the new cell, yet later in the story describes how the cell came packaged in bubble wrap, which takes us back to when she first received it. I found that a bit jolting so I would recommend “the bubble package” line be moved to the start so the action reads in order and creates a bit of mystery for what’s in the package.
3.) I liked how the author inserted a quick backstory bit about Dwight and how this poor woman had been dealing with a sick husband who later died. The whole sad incident was expressed in terms of the cell phone. Clever. So I would recommend the mystery package arrival be quickly followed by the woman’s tragedy, so the reader is even more sympathetic.
4.) Everyone knows a cell phone does NOT come set up. If this one did, the author should play that up for a bigger mystery to draw the reader in. The way it reads now, it seems as if the author made a mistake on how phones usually come or makes Tawny seem foolish not to question the obvious.
Example:
Tawny Lindholm stared down at the opened package and sighed. She would never have ordered it. A smart phone came bubble wrapped from an online retailer with a printed message on the address label. Happy Birthday, Mom. Love, Neal. Her well-meaning son had sent it for her fiftieth birthday. She couldn’t even return it to a local store. If it hadn’t been a gift from him, she would gladly have found a way to get his money back. She still might.
While her husband Dwight was sick, she’d used a simple cell phone, no problem. Flip it open, punch in numbers, and connect with doctors, the oxygen company, friends, and finally, on a July night nine months ago, the funeral home.
Tawny didn’t need a phone smarter than she was, one that barely fit in her palm. Still, she might’ve given it a try if it came with instructions. For heaven’s sake.
“Instrument of the devil!” Tawny glared at the new cell. “Whoever set you up should’ve known I needed help. I can’t even figure out how to make a call.”
The glossy black screen reflected her scowl while a musical tone dinged. What did that mean? Who had set up her new phone…and why didn’t it have instructions?
“Oh, this is ridiculous.”
She had tapped, swiped, and imitated other gestures she’d watched people make while zipping around the screens of their phones. They got directions, played games, texted, and now and then, made a plain old phone call. It looked so simple.
The screen remained blank, indifferent to her frustrated prodding. “I wouldn’t even know how to answer you.” The damn thing had her talking to herself.
A different tone chimed five times. Was this an incoming call? Or had she accidentally told the thing to launch a missile?
Without an operating manual, she’d be dead in the water. She sat at the breakfast bar, fingering the only reading material she had on the phone. A postcard had arrived in the mail, along with the birthday package. Baffled by your smartphone? Free class. Easy, fun, impress your grandchildren.
Tawny shook her head. If she went, she’d be the dumbest one there. But how else could she learn without an instruction booklet?
The oldies station Dwight had liked played in the kitchen. The Temptations’ “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” faded out. “I’m begging someone to put me out of my misery,” she answered the radio.
The announcer came on, promoting the same free class described on the postcard. Tawny furrowed her brow and turned up the volume. “Learn how to operate your smartphone. Tonight, seven o’clock, at the library in downtown Kalispell.”
First, the postcard, now the radio ad. Someone was sending a message. Might as well pay attention. Besides, what else did she have to do, except sit home in a silent house, listening to mysterious beeps and whistles on her annoying new phone?
What about you, TKZers? Any feedback for this brave author? Would you keep reading?
