Landscapes as Characters

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By Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Having just visited six national parks (Sequoia, Yosemite, Death Valley, Grand Canyon, Zion and Bryce Canyon) I have a renewed appreciation for the power of landscape (and, I might add, an intimate knowledge of all their junior ranger programs!).

Using landscape and location is critical to my own work, but I think there is a fine line between setting an evocative scene and going over the top. I have no doubt many landscapes make powerful characters in their own right, but they should never be allowed to overwhelm the story. Readers want to know about people not about rocks and trees. For new writers I think using landscape effectively can be a challenge and, for what it’s worth, I have a few tips that I’d like to share…

First, I do not subscribe to the “write what you know” philosophy. I believe you should write about any place you want to, whether or not you have been there. I would add the caveat, however, that if you do write about a place you have never been you must do your research very, very thoroughly. Readers need to be confident of the setting you have created, so misnamed places, inappropriate plants etc. will only undermine that confidence.

Secondly, use description sparingly. No one needs to read a travelogue and often I think it can be harder to write about a place you know intimately than one with which you have only a passing acquaintance. Sometimes it is, quite literally, too hard to tell the wood from the trees.

Thirdly, consider a new aspect or angle to your use of landscape. Use something about the place that is unusual or surprising, which illuminates something meaningful about the characters or plot. I try to make the landscape reflect mood, character or theme.

Finally, abandon the clichés as much as possible. Nothing is more yawn inducing than paragraphs filled with really obvious or trite descriptions. Keep it fresh.

Anyway, as I am still on the road, this post is another short one but I would like to hear your comments and thoughts on using landscape. What in your view are some of the most egregious mistakes made in terms of overdoing use of landscape?

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Envy

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James Scott Bell



Years ago there was a commercial for Pepto-Bismol, where a nerdy guy in glasses looked straight into the camera and said something like, “Can we talk about diarrhea?” It was an effective ad because, well, they took the bull by the horns, as it were. They didn’t sugar coat the malady; they didn’t try to cleverly talk around it.

People get diarrhea. They don’t like to talk about it, but sometimes they have to in order to stop it.
That’s the feeling I have right now in talking  to writers about a malady that may affect every one of them from time to time: envy. Can we talk?
This seems a good follow up to John’s Friday post. Writers are sometimes subject to slings and arrows from those who envy them. But what happens when envy sneaks up on the writer?
Ann Lamott has a great chapter on envy in her writing book, Bird by Bird. Here, in part, is what she says:
If you continue to write, you are probably going to have to deal with it because some wonderful, dazzling successes are going to happen for some of the most awful, angry, undeserving writers you know—people who are, in other words, not you. You are going to feel awful beyond words. you are going to have a number of days in a row where you hate everyone and don’t believe in anything . . . If you do know the author whose turn it is, he or she will inevitably say that it will be your turn next, which is what the bride always says to you at each successive wedding, while you grow older and more decayed . . . It can wreak just the tiniest bit of havoc with your self-esteem to find that you are hoping for small bad things to happen to this friend—for, say, her head to blow up.
Funny, yes; but the truth is that envy is a serious waste of time and a drain on your energy. Like any emotion, it can be a chronic condition or a momentary blip. If it is the former, you really have to do something to eradicate it.  Let me suggest a few things:
1. Acknowledge your humanity and the fact that you care about what you’re doing. That’s the basic reason you feel the way you do. You’re invested in your writing emotionally, as you should be. You’re also not perfect, and don’t expect you ever will be.
2. Look at the part of your feelings that wants the other person to fail, or not enjoy success. That’s the ugly bit you’ve got to get rid of. If you have an active spiritual life, this is a good place to bring out the big guns. The Book of Proverbs, chapter 14, verse 30 says, “A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.”  The ancient philosopher Epicurus wrote: “Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” Whatever practice you engage in, the great religions and spiritual views have always talked about the jewel of contentment. “Health is the greatest gift,” Buddha said. “Contentment the greatest wealth.” That’s worth pursuing.
3. Write. This is always the best antidote to any writerly anxiety. Get involved in your project. Put your head down and produce the words.
4. Improve. Anyone – anyone – can improve their craft. You are always at a certain level, and you can with some effort get to the next level. Your competition is really only with yourself. There is joy and confidence when you see yourself improving.
5. Prepare. Know that a pang of envy may come at any time. Before that happens, affirm your own worth and say a bit of Lawrence Block’s “A Writer’s Prayer” (from his book, Telling Lies for Fun and Profit):
For starters, help me to avoid comparing myself to other writers. I can make a lot of trouble for myself when I do that . . .Lord, help me remember that I’m not in competition with other writers. Whether they have more or less success has nothing to do with me. They have their stories to write and I have mine. They have their way of writing them and I have mine. They have their careers and I have mine. The more focus on comparing myself with them, the less energy I am able to concentrate on making the best of myself and my own work. I wind up despairing of my ability and bitter about its fruits, and all I manage to do is sabotage myself . . .When I read a writer who does things better than I do, enable me to learn from him . . .
A hearty Amen to that. 

E-Books & Kindles & Hardcovers, Oh My! by Joe Hartlaub

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I find myself here through the good graces of John Miller, who has honored me by inviting me to post in his place on alternate weeks, with a wonderful introduction to boot. Thank you, John, for both. As I look at the company I am in I feel a bit like the undergraduate student who finds himself at a table with a group of learned professors and who hopes that, if he stays quiet and doesn’t embarrass himself, he will be permitted to stay. Staying quiet and not embarrassing myself are not listed among my ever-dwindling list of strengths, but we’ll see how it goes.

It has been an extremely interesting week in the publishing industry, with much talk of E-Books and Kindles and hardcovers, oh my! Despite what you may have read in self-styled newspapers of record this week, physical books are not dinosaurs and the comets aren’t coming. Not just yet. E-books (and their readers) are something more than another format, and something less than a total replacement. To put it another way: when Gutenberg rolled out his printing press, people didn’t stop telling each other stories.

Yes; in the second quarter of 2010, the good folks at Amazon sold more e-books than hardcover books. What happened in that second quarter? For one thing, a lot of fathers (including this one) received Kindles on June 20. And we felt duty bound to load them up with an e-book or twenty. What’s the point of getting a new gadget if you can’t test drive it? Amazon also instituted a price drop for their six-inch Kindle model on June 21. Similar spikes have occurred over in the music industry during holidays, when iPods, iPhones, and iPads need to be loaded up with digital tracks. Yet, CDs continue to outsell digital music tracks on an annual basis, though their share of the market continues to drop.

Do I love my Kindle? Yes. There are books I can buy for it that are not available in physical form, some of which are original works, others of which are out of print. Of course, there are other books — more than you might think — that you cannot obtain in e-book form. The issues of publishers’ and creators’ rights are not going to be easily resolved and things are probably going to get nasty (actually, they have already) before they resolve. And pricing? Let’s save that one for another discussion. If Kindle and other e-book readers are going to be serious contenders, in the long-term, there is going to have to be some sort of uniform standard put in place in terms of editing, particularly for self-published works, to match that which traditional publishers have established. I’ve read some e-books that appear to have been carefully groomed for presentation, while others seem to have been written without coming within one hundred miles of spell-check software. And how will authors get their needle to stand out in a market of thousands of haystacks without the might and majesty of a marketing department — or a helpful bookseller — to make it jump out at a potential reader? It is difficult enough to keep track of and keep up with the embarrassment of literary riches that appear every month. At the end of the day, there is still going to be a need for mainstream publishers who are willing and able to adapt their business models for this brave, and yes, scary, new world. I am impressed with what some publishers have been doing already. Baen Books, for one, has a very cool webscription e-book site. Maybe that will be a model.

Is there a trend toward e-books? Certainly. Does it mean the end of the hardcover book? Unlikely. Physical books continue to have much to recommend. There will always be companies similar to this book printing company Printivity that will continue to print hardcover books. I don’t know if I can properly explain this, but there is a comfort level with a physical book that I don’t get with plastic. There are also a host of practical issues. Physical books don’t break when you drop them, for one thing. A physical book doesn’t have a battery that will run low on you when you’re in a hotel room in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana and its cord is in Westerville, Ohio. You don’t have to worry about scratching a book cover. You can drop a book on a spider and crush it; spiders laugh at Kindles (don’t ask me how I know this). And if you throw a book across the room, it will forgive you. A Kindle will never speak to you again. We may someday see the end of the hardcover book when you can do all of those things with a Kindle (oh, yeah, don’t use one as a coaster, either), and physical books may become collectors’ items, but I’m not going to go out and buy twenty copies of THE PASSAGE on speculation just yet.

One of the most intelligent people I know is a gentleman named Tom Leavens who has been active in the music industry for decades. When the digital era began to impact the manner in which music was distributed, sold, and consumed, he compared it to the beginning of creation, stating that after the smoke, noise, and confusion had settled, things would slowly begin to sort themselves out. Just so. In this case, the world is not ending; it’s just changing. It always has.

Skin Like Leather

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By John Gilstrap

We always tell up-and-comers that they’ve got to have a thick skin if they’re ever going to break into the publishing business. As the rejections pile up, it’s hard not to lose faith in your own abilities. When the news finally turns good, and an agent wants to see the manuscript, and later when an editor decides to buy it, you feel vindicated. Ha-ha and neener-neener, you think. Clearly all those rejecters were wrong.

What clearer affirmation of talent can there be than a publishing contract, right? If you’re not careful, you might start rubbing aloe on that leather-tough skin, thinking that it’s time to shed the bullet-proof coating.

Oh, that it were true.

Earlier this month, I won this year’s award at Thriller Fest for the Worst Review Ever, for an opinion of Nathan’s Run that appeared in an upstate New York newspaper: “The glue boogers in the binding were more captivating than Gilstrap’s torpid prose.” If the quote seems familiar, I’ve posted that review in this space before. That it followed dozens of major market rave reviews from around the world softened the blow quite a bit. I laughed out loud when I read it at the time, and now I treasure my award, which is a lovely wooden box that contains a fossilized dinosaur turd. All in good fun.

So, here I am again in the early stages of a new book launch (18 days straight in the Top 30 in Amazon’s Kindle store), blessed with a starred review from Publisher’s Weekly. I’m very proud of the book. Frankly, I think it’s my best work, but then I always think that when a new book comes out.

I almost took out the aloe again. Not so fast.

This is the age of the amateur Internet review, where the opinions of casual readers wield influence equal to that of professional critics. Among many very positive reviews, one fellow calls my book “surprisingly decent.” Another expresses surprise that this “second tier suspense writer” has had such a long career. I have been chastised for leading with my left-wing politics, and I’ve been chastised for leading with my right-wing politics. One reviewer chastises me for coming off as stupid because I can’t seem to keep my own politics straight.

Interestingly, several reviewers have accused me in an online forum of writing my own raves, one of them going so far as to praise my ability to change my writing style to accommodate my various fictional identities. (For the record, I’ve never done such a thing.)

God bless them all. Once the book is written and I’ve launched it out to the world, it belongs more to the reader than it does to me. It’s the nature of art that perception trumps intent. A review is a review, after all, and since the major media markets have decided that books are no longer worthy of ink and newsprint, I’m just happy that someone’s paying attention.

The need for thick skin doesn’t end at the impersonal review, however.

Nine times out of ten, people are wonderfully supportive of me and my work. It’s not about fawning. With the exception of certain engineered opportunities—book signings, etc.—I have no desire to be the star of a social setting. I’d much rather discuss current events than the mechanics of writing. Among these friends, the launch of a new book warrants a congratulations and a couple of signed books and that’s about it. Just as it should be.

Then there’s the remaining one out of ten who just sort of baffle me. Consider my relatives who ostentatiously don’t read my books (even though I think they do), yet ask me to autograph editions for their friends. A colleague of mine goes out of his way to tell me the stores he’s visited where none of my books are in stock, and another rarely misses a public opportunity to express shock that my books are currently doing as well as they are. It seems sometimes that people go out of their way to be hurtful. What am I supposed to say in response to such things?

Over the years, I’ve come to understand that none of the rudeness—whether by acts of omission or commission—are in fact intentionally hurtful. The family stuff is weirder than the collegial stuff, but I’ve decided that artistic success—even when it’s second tier—makes some people feel both empowered and uncomfortable. The public nature of book writing empowers people to criticize, while public success—and the minor celebrity that comes with it—can upset the balance of an insecure relationship.

I’m not talking jealousy here—far from it, in fact. I think it’s more akin to keeping the artist from becoming too big for his britches. I suppose that’s a noble goal, but I do wish it could be accomplished with fewer awkward moments.

Am I alone here? Do you folks encounter people who seem intent on deflating your balloon? How do you cope with it?

Co-Writing Dreams and Nightmares

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by Michelle Gagnon

On our Open Tuesday discussion this week, someone asked about co-writing. Joe Moore is our resident expert on the subject, so he can elaborate on the positive aspects of that type of collaboration. Today I’ll outline the alternate scenario, when it doesn’t go particularly well.

I have a close friend who has always wanted to be a writer. Over drinks one night, she proposed that we work on a project together. I’d had a screenplay idea milling around the back of my mind for awhile, and it seemed like an ideal project to tackle together. After all, screenplays are shorter than novels, primarily dialogue, and can be easily divided up into individual scenes. We sat down and hashed out the plot over the course of a few days, decided which scenes each of us would tackle, and set to work.

Within a week I had most of my scenes written. My friend stalled: stuff to do around the house, she hadn’t been able to find time…understandable. A few weeks later, after I pressed again, she came back with a single scene.

And it was terrible. Really, truly, awful. All the characters sounded alike- in fact, they all sounded like her. The dialogue was clunky and forced, the jokes fell flat. It was a mess. Not unsalvagable, mind you, but rough.

Now, I don’t claim to be the best writer out there–far from it. But I suddenly realized that while I’d spent the past decade writing nearly every day, learning what worked and what didn’t, and being heavily edited by pros, she had not. The scene felt like something handed in for a freshman writing class–which, essentially, it was. It threw me, because I didn’t know how to handle it. I realized that this project wasn’t going to be a few weeks of work that I could sneak in between book deadlines, but would require months of tough conversations and editing.

In the end, we abandoned the idea.

And here’s what I came away with. If you are going to work with a collaborator, ideally it should be someone as dedicated to the craft and on roughly the same writing level as you are. At nearly every cocktail party I’ve attended in the past decade, someone declares that someday, they’re going to write a book. Most people think they’re capable of such a thing, if only they could find the time. The truth is, there are people who have worked demanding full time jobs, raised small children, and found the time. Heather Graham used to type one-handed while she cradled a baby in her other arm. Allison Brennan worked late at night after her kids had gone to bed. Khaled Hosseini worked at 5AM before his family woke up and he had to head to the hospital for work.

Given time and effort, my friend might turn out to be a great writer. The ideas she came up with during our brainstorming sessions were fantastic, things I never would have thought of. The problem was that she lacked the experience to translate those ideas, and, worse yet, didn’t have the drive to work on it every day. And without that drive, and the understanding that what we do is not easy but requires a serious dedication of time and effort (and a thick skin), it simply won’t happen.

I’m about to undertake another co-writing project on a screenplay. This time, I’ll be working with a friend who has written several scripts, and had one produced. I’ll admit to some trepidation regardless–after all, she is a friend, and nothing can strain a friendship like working together in any field. But I’m hoping that this time things will go more smoothly.

Open Tuesdays

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[image4.png]It’s time for another Open Tuesday while our blogmate, Kathryn Lilley, is on medical hiatus. Bring us your questions, comments and discussions. If you have a question about writing, publishing or any other related topic, ask away in our comments section. We’ll do our best to get you an answer.

And don’t forget you can download a copy of FRESH KILLS, Tales from the Kill Zone to your Kindle or PC today.

Romance of the Grand Canyon

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Still on the road and up to the start of week three of my family’s two month national park odyssey. We’re camping at the north rim of the Grand Canyon and I am hoping, as I had to schedule this blog post ahead of time, that the romance of the view remains (though with kids in tow the prospect of romance is always pretty remote!) I have only ever been to the south rim so it is an exciting prospect to be on the less travelled side of the park, although I am still concerned about how I can ensure neither one of my children actually fall into the canyon (at 5 they are daredevils…) But my question for today is all about romance…what in your view is the best kiss in crime fiction?

For me the answer is easy, Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane in Gaudy Night, not because it is particularly passionate but because the lead up to it was so terrific (the Latin that Dorothy L. Sayers throws in is annoying but I forgive her the pretension). I love having the tension build across books and to reach a satisfying ending, such as that in the Wimsey series. Many other series find that the kiss spells disaster as sexual tension fizzles from then on.

So what is your vote for the best kiss in crime fiction??

Just Go

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James Scott Bell


I love writing about the craft of fiction. I love it because I had to teach myself how to write back when I was being told writing could not be learned. I had come to believe that (about 90% of me, anyway) because I’d taken a workshop in college with Raymond Carver, and I couldn’t do what he did. I didn’t really know that what he was doing (literary short stories) was clearly different from the kind of thing I wanted to do (e.g., Raymond Chandler). I just thought I didn’t have what it takes to be a writer.

Anyway, you wake up one day knowing you have to figure out how to write or something inside you will wither up and die. So I set about to see if writing fiction could be learned, and I discovered it could. Along with good writing books and studying bestsellers, I started to get it. And after I got published, I started to teach it.

For me there are few things as enjoyable as learning a new technique, or getting a different perspective on an old one.

It’s kind of like golf. Golfers are always tinkering with their game, trying things out, seeing what works. It can begin, if you don’t watch it, to drive you a little bit mad. As you’re getting ready to tee off, you might find yourself thinking of the 22 most important things at point of impact– and immediately freeze up.

Which brings me to the point of this post. When you write, you have to write freely. You can’t let a lot of craft knowledge freeze you up.

Sometimes, those who are writing their next novel put too much stress on all the things they think they should be doing, and end up not doing much of anything.

When you write, write. And try to get a first draft done as quickly as possible. It’s best to concentrate on only a few basics and just go.

1. Make sure the stakes are high enough for the Lead. I advocate “death overhanging” as being the key to this. There are three kinds of death: physical, professional and psychological. If you look at the most popular novels out there, one or all of these are at work in the plot.

2. Make sure the opposition to the Lead is stronger than the Lead. Only then will readers truly be “worried” enough to read on.

3. Make sure your individual scenes are packed with tension or conflict. That means you never have a scene where everything is hunky-dory. At all times, in some way or other, there is worry, fear or outright confrontation.

And that’s about it. There will be more work to be done, of course. Especially upon revision. But as you go through your first draft, let these fundamentals guide you. Don’t freeze up thinking about myriad things.

Just go.

It’s between writing stints that you study and learn and adjust. A good golf teacher will tell you never to work on your swing in the middle of a round. Finish the round, and then go over to the practice tee and work on things. Review your fundamentals and if need be consult a teaching professional.

Keep learning, keep practicing, but when you write, write like it’s play. Get caught up in what you’re doing.

You writers out there, what do you concentrate on when getting that first draft down?

Want to know who done it? Check out the cast.

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John Ramsey Miller

Most of us watch TV to be entertained, get inspiration, or to see what not to write. I like cop and lawyer shows. I also love Westerns and gangster-related shows. I record several and watch them at my leisure, and I suspect a lot of my fellow authors do the same thing. Cop anybody, CSI anywhere, Burn Notice, Sopranos reruns, The Closer Sedgewick, Law & Disorder, and many others. I discovered that the most famous actor on a show is the almost always the offender (usually a killer), and I’m stunned that the other cast members don’t know it until long after I do. Not much surprise in dramas due to this factor. In my experience well-known actors rarely take a part that is going to consist of being interview by the cops because their egos and agents won’t allow them to. And producers can’t resist bringing recognizable faces into their series for a juicy cameo.

I’ve been called back to work for the Census Bureau to help close the doors on the files. I’ve been riding county roads all week and will all next week, and who cares…? Anyway, I haven’t had much time to think about writing this week.

I’m not going to be doing this blog so much in the future as I have in the past. I’ve decided to take every other week off. In order to do that I started thinking about who I’d like to have share Saturdays with me. I wanted someone who would add a new dimension to the blogs we publish here. Living out here in the wilds, I run out of things to say that doesn’t involve chickens. So, I made out a list of the authors I know and respect and I gave it a lot of serious thought. (I know–John Miller and serious thought are strangers). I kept coming back to one name and last night after a scotch or two I called and asked him if he would be interested. He is, after all, one of the busiest men I know. Most authors, unless they live in a box, know Joseph Hartlaub, and Joe agreed to be here with us blogging every other week.

Joe is an entertainment attorney specializing in music and publishing, a talented author in his own right, he knows weapons and hand-to-hand combat, he’s an actor, and for years has been a critic for BookReporter.com. Joe flat knows his stuff when it comes to most aspects of our trade. Nobody reads more books than Joe, or appreciates a good book to a greater extent. I know he will add a whole new dimension to our site, and I hope you will all welcome him warmly. He has also become a very good friend of mine. It’s nice to work with friends. You readers are in for a treat.

This week they auctioned off the Roy Rogers Museum. In that spirit …Happy Trails.

Constructive Criticism & Incandescent Rage

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by Michelle Gagnon

The first time I heard Lee Child speak, he discussed how he reacts to his editor’s comments on each manuscript. Lee claims to initially go “incandescent with rage.” He closes the email, fumes for a bit, then goes back and reads it again a day or so later. And the second time, he sees some of what the editor is talking about.

I think this is a common reaction of writers everywhere. How dare someone criticize your baby? Clearly they just didn’t get it. But I’ll tell you what- the difference between an author who gets published, and one who doesn’t ever sell that manuscript, frequently correlates directly to how that author processes and responds to constructive criticism.

Which is not to say that the editor is always right. I generally retool the manuscript based on approximately three-quarters of my editor’s comments. It’s one of the reasons I use up to ten beta readers for each book. If one person says something, and it doesn’t strike a chord with you, it might be just their impression (one example: for my upcoming novel KIDNAP AND RANSOM, my editor noted that the book, “doesn’t depict Mexico in a very favorable light.” And she’s right- it doesn’t, mainly because the bulk of it is set in the poorest slums in Mexico City. So that one I dismissed outright).

But if more than one beta reader reacts to something, that usually means it necessitates a change. For the same book, the majority of my readers (among them, my esteemed fellow bloggers) thought that there was a coincidence in the book that was just too darn convenient. And going back through it, I realized they were right. There had to be a better way to move the plot forward. In the end, I rewrote over two-thirds of the book based on feedback. And the end product was a stronger, more believable storyline (I hope).

This came up recently when I reviewed a manuscript for a friend from a local writing group who is struggling to get their first book published. I sent a detailed assessment of what I thought the strengths and weaknesses of the story were, bearing in mind what I know from experience editors respond negatively to. The writer’s reaction surprised me (particularly since I had more positive than negative comments). I received detailed responses to each negative note, arguments for why this scene and that character had to be in there.

Now, it’s this author’s choice to keep or discard whatever they like- after all, it is their book, and their name on the cover if it ever gets published. Sadly, unless at least a few of those changes are made, I suspect it will continue to garner rejections.

What I realized early on was that when an agent responded to a submission with a rejection, but also provided a response detailing why they rejected it, it was important to take note. A form letter rejection is one thing. If they bother to let you know what in particular prevented them from signing you, it means that you’re actually very close. I see the same thing in my critique group. When someone writes something that is a hot mess, few people say anything. The author invariably (and wrongly) takes this as proof that what they’re holding in their hands is perfect. The truth is, people say less when something is unsalvageable. When a heated debate begins, or everyone agrees on the salient strengths and weaknesses, the author has come close to hitting their mark.

So, going back to Jim’s “before you submit” post…before you send out that first stream of submissions, pass the manuscript along to people you trust. Aim for folks who you know will be hard on it (sometimes that means avoiding friends and family). Listen to what they say. Feel free to go incandescent with rage for a few days, then sit back down and read their responses more closely. And make those changes: kill those darlings, cut that exposition, come up with better ways for events to transpire. No manuscript ever suffered from revision-the more you change it, in general, the better it will become.