Guest Author Kim Fay

Today, the fabulous Kim Fay. I met her at one of the many literary events throughout southern California. She's bright and charming and you can't help but like her. And because paying it forward is my personal mantra, I wanted to give her a leg up. Turns out she didn't need it. Her first novel, The Map of Lost Memories, earned her an Edgar nomination this year. And she'll be talking about that.

Solving the Mystery of My First Love

by Kim Fay

One morning in January, I opened my email to find a message from the marketing manager assigned to my novel at my publisher: I just heard the Edgar news and wanted to send you my congratulations!

Edgar news? Congratulations?

Although I didn’t know what she meant, my heart still skipped a beat. I quickly Googled “Kim Fay” and “Edgar.” There it was. My novel, The Map of Lost Memories, was nominated for an Edgar Award for Best First Novel by an American Author. An Edgar! The mustachioed Oscar of the mystery writing world! Incredible! Except for one thing …

My novel wasn’t a mystery.

Was it?

Since its publication in August of 2012, it had been marketed as a historical novel. As a literary novel. As an adventure novel. And, unsurprisingly, a historical-literary-adventure novel. Not once that I knew of had it been slotted into the mystery category. Yes, it had been chosen for one of Poisoned Pen bookshop’s monthly book clubs, but it was a Modern Firsts pick, not a First Mystery or Mystery of the Month or Thriller pick. This would explain why it wasn’t just me who was caught unawares. My editor, publicist and agent (none of whom had submitted the book for nomination) were surprised too.

Then I started to think about it. My mind wandered, all the way back to my childhood, when I couldn’t get enough of Nancy Drew and Phyllis A. Whitney’s gothic stories of suspense and Betty Cavanna’s mysteries set in Marrakech, the Spice Islands and Thailand. My first first novel, written at the age of ten, was The Mystery of the Golden Galleon. I recalled my early forays into literary fiction and how intensely I was drawn to Graham Greene. Then I reconsidered The Map of Lost Memories: its quest for a lost Cambodian history, its suspicious murder (was it intentional or was it an accident?) and its family mystery that slowly unfolds. I realized that, without my knowing it, I had stayed true to my first fiction love: the mystery.

Kim at the Edgar banquet. Photo by Steven Speliotis

Because of this, at the age of forty-six, I tumbled into a literary world where I finally feel I belong, and where I had wanted to belong, subconsciously, even before the nomination. When I attended the West Hollywood Book Fair in October to speak on a panel, I found myself at the Sisters in Crime L.A. booth, uncertain since I did not write traditional crime fiction, but asking anyway: may I join? Jeri Westerson, the chapter’s vice president (and also president of the SoCal Mystery Writers of America chapter), enthusiastically let me know I was more than welcome as she handed me the application brochure. But a month passed, and I did not apply. I was invited to speak at Mysterious Galaxy during the holidays, and still I did not apply. I was afraid I might be called out as an imposter. Then came the nomination. My entire world changed.

I have worked for years in indie bookshops, I have made the literary rounds, but never have I belonged to a literary world so welcoming and supportive. Since January I have been surrounded by mystery writers—at Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America meetings, at the Tucson and L.A. festivals of books—and bar the odd exception (aren’t there always odd exceptions!), they have opened their arms and taken me in.

Along with the above-mentioned Jeri Westerson, there is Patricia Smiley, the oh so hospitable president of Sisters in Crime L.A. Naomi Hirahara, generous author of the Mas Arai mystery series. Travis Richardson, equally generous editor of the Sisters in Crime L.A. newsletter. Hilary Davidson, author of the Lily Moore mystery series and terrific partner in margarita-drinking crime. Susan Elia MacNeal, my fellow nominee and keeper of my foot-in-mouth secret after the Edgar awards banquet. Hank Phillippi Ryan, the gracious and deserving winner of the Mary Higgins Clark Award. Margery Flax, hand-holder extraordinaire and Administrative Director of Mystery Writers of America. And, and, and … I could go on and on. About how great these people are. About how much fun they are. About how at home they’ve made me feel. About how inspired I am, to fully explore the mystery in my next novel and even to pull out a series I’ve been secretly plotting for the past few years. 

As for the Edgar Awards, when my category was called at the banquet at the Grand Hyatt New York on May 2, I sat on the edge of my seat, surrounded by my husband, agent, editor and dozens of new friends. I did not win. Did I feel a bit boo-hoo about this? Of course. But even if I had won, that wouldn’t have been the best part of the experience.

I didn’t prepare a just-in-case speech for the awards, but if I’d had the honor of standing up on the stage, I know how I would have finished it: If I was given the choice to belong to any group of writers in the world, it would be this one. Thank you for inviting me to your party.

Kim Fay is the author of The Map of Lost Memories, published by Ballantine Books/Random House and available in paperback on June 18, 2013. www.kimfay.net

 

And the winner is...

Sandra Parshall

Meryl Streep said recently that “there’s no such thing as the ‘best’ actress” and that “everybody wins” in a year when many great movies provide showcases for talent. Of course, she said this while accepting a best actress award from the Screen Actors Guild, but there is some truth and good sense in the statement. It’s wishful thinking, though, to imagine that creative people can rise above the competitive streak that is an inborn aspect of human nature.

Writers aren’t exempt from the craving to outshine one another. Maybe we’re not as cutthroat about it as movie and TV people, but would most of us trample the bodies of our beloved grandmothers to get to an Edgar Award? You bet. If you win a single award of any kind, you will be labeled forevermore an “award-winning author” – regardless of whether you continue to turn out good books or never produce another that’s halfway readable.

I’m thinking about all this because it’s that time of year again, when Malice Domestic registrants are filling out their Agatha Award nomination ballots and everybody’s looking at the just-released list of Edgar nominees and saying, “Huh?”

The campaigning for an Agatha nomination usually takes the form of e-mails and mystery e-list posts “reminding” everyone that a writer’s book is eligible for a nomination. When the reminder is coming from a personal friend, it’s hard not to feel pressured. Sometimes I think writers expect a nomination simply because they’re friendly with a lot of the people who will do the nominating. But what if you don’t think your friend’s book is one of the five best of the entire year? You don’t have to say so, of course, and no one will see your ballot except the person who counts it. The whole situation is uncomfortable, though -- and unnecessary. If I think a book is terrific, I’m going to remember it. I don’t need to be reminded of its existence.

The Anthony Awards given out at Bouchercon, and many other crime fiction awards, are the result of the same sort of process. Attendance at a conference, or membership in an organization, or even a subscription to a mystery magazine, gives a person the right to make nominations. A lot of factors influence the nominators – friendship, subgenre preferences, biases that have nothing to do with the quality of books (“I don’t like violent books, or books with graphic sex, regardless of how well-written and well-plotted they are”), and, most important, the limits on how much a person can read in one year. If you haven’t read every crime novel published in the last year, how can you choose the best?

That brings us to the Edgars, which are awarded by committees. Every year both writers and fans complain about the nominations. “I’ve never HEARD of most of these books! How can they be the best?” (I hope you see the fatal flaw in that reasoning.) “Why don’t they ever nominate a cozy?” And so on. The refrain is the same, year after year.

I’ve done my share of grousing when a book I loved – for example, Laura Lippman’s wonderful What the Dead Know – is nominated for (and ultimately wins) just about every other award in existence but doesn’t receive an Edgar nomination. I don't always agree with their choices, but I have to respect the simple fact that the Edgar judges do read every eligible book that is published and submitted by publishers for consideration. Each unpaid judge in the novel categories suspends normal life for a year and reads hundreds upon hundreds of books before choosing the five she/he considers best. As I understand it, a period of discussion and perhaps re-reading follows to reconcile disagreements among the members of a particular panel, and ultimately they arrive at a list of finalists. Then they choose the winner in that category. It’s not surprising that this laborious process usually produces nominations for serious books that display outstanding, original writing and in some cases tackle social issues.

Lighter books will have a chance at other awards. A mystery or thriller doesn’t have to be life-changing to be great entertainment. It doesn’t have to pulsate with psychological or social significance that will outlast the ages. Each award has criteria, and the people making nominations have to keep those criteria in mind. You wouldn’t nominate a Karin Slaughter book for an Agatha. That doesn’t mean the Slaughter book is worthless. You can’t expect to see a cooking cozy get an Edgar nomination. That doesn’t mean the cozy isn’t entertaining (with great recipes included). And if your own book receives no nominations, that doesn’t make it a failure. Mystery writers might be happier if no awards were ever given, if we weren’t forced to applaud for authors whose books were deemed “better” than ours. Awards are here to stay, though, and all we can do is try to be realistic and sensible about them.

Would I give up my own Agatha Award? Are you nuts? Will I fill out my Agatha and Anthony ballots this year? Of course. Will I be annoyed if my favorites don’t win? Of course. I’m only human, after all.


In case you’re interested, the book I’d like to see win the Agatha for Best Novel is I Shall Not Want by Julia Spencer-Fleming.







My favorite for the Anthony is Master of the Delta by Thomas H. Cook.

Which books are you rooting for this time around?

Alison Gaylin Gets Trashed!

Interviewed by Sandra Parshall

Alison Gaylin’s first novel, a paperback original titled Hide Your Eyes, was nominated for an Edgar Award for Best First Novel. After publishing a second PBO, You Kill Me, Alison moves to hardcover with the early September release of Trashed from NAL’s new Obsidian mystery imprint. A journalist covering arts and entertainment, Alison lives in upstate New York with her husband, young daughter and old dog.

Your first two books featured the same main character, but your third book, Trashed, introduces a new lead. Did you feel any trepidation about striking out in a new direction so soon?

A little, but at the same time, I felt like Samantha could use a rest. As my father-in-law said to me, "How much trouble can one poor pre-school teacher possibly get into?" Being an entertainment writer, I've also wanted to do a Hollywood story for a while, and that didn't work for Samantha.

Will Trashed be the start of a new series? Do you plan to return to Samantha?

No, Trashed is a standalone. I definitely would like to get back to Samantha. She's not in the book I'm working on now, but I have an interesting idea for her I'd hopefully like to use after that.

How did you research the Hollywood tabloid world you portray so convincingly? Did you receive help from anyone who works for a tabloid?

Believe it or not, I used my own experience! After I graduated from college and before I went to graduate school, I worked as a reporter for The Star for a little less than a year. This was before Star went glossy, and we did it all -- garbage stealing, infiltrating weddings, funerals, movie sets.... It was quite the adventure, and I always wanted to write about it. My current day job helped me as well. I'm an articles editor at In Touch Weekly. It's definitely classier than The Asteroid (the fictitious tabloid in Trashed). But I still hear all the current gossip, and there are some former tabloid people there with great stories.

Do you think the Edgar nomination has benefited your career?

Definitely. Not many paperback originals are nominated for best first novel, and I'm thinking my publisher was probably just as surprised as me when we heard the news. I think it probably had a lot to do with their moving me to hardcover. I couldn't be more grateful for that nomination.

What drew you to writing crime fiction? How old were you when you decided you wanted to write about murder?

Probably about the fifth grade. I used to love to write humorous short stories with a big twist at the end, usually involving someone getting killed. I wrote plays in college, and murder always found its way into those as well. There's just something about killing people in fiction -- kind of the opposite of a vicarious thrill, if that makes any sense. You write it, and you think, "Yes! Thank God it's only fiction!"

What drew me to writing crime fiction was a fiction workshop I took in New York City about fifteen years ago. I wrote a short story involving a body discovered in an ice chest and my teacher suggested I turn it into a full-length mystery novel. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote for years and finally, it became Hide Your Eyes.

How do people who have known you all your life react to your choice of subject matter?

My mom makes a point of going to my readings and telling everyone that Samantha's mother is not based on her (which is true--she's not). Some of my friends have read my books and sort of raised their eyebrows at me. I guess they didn't know I had it in me. One friend's husband told me he'd never look at me the same way again.

What aspects of your writing have you consciously worked to improve? What aspects give you the most satisfaction?

I work harder on plotting now. I used to write characters, and see where they would take me, and as a result my plots weren't all that compelling. Since I've gotten published, I realize how important a good plot structure is, so I outline and re-outline and re-outline until I think I get it right. The thing that gives me the most satisfaction, though, is still character. There's that point in writing a book when you're spending more time with your characters than you are with most people, and they become real -- your companions. You know things about them that never make it to the page. Someone will say something, and you'll think, "Oh, that sounds like something Simone would say." I really love that.

Do you have critiquers who read and comment on your work before you turn it in to your editor?


If my husband has time, I like him to read it. He's a former screenwriter and amazing with structure. But my editor is really excellent. She's a great person to brainstorm with. Her criticism can be strong, but it's pretty much always right.

How do you divide your time among research, promotion, and writing? Do you attend any mystery conferences? And where does family/personal time fit into all this?

I'm very behind on promoting myself. My website is pathetically outdated, but I'm fixing that as we speak. I don't attend as many of the conferences as I probably should. I try to make it to Bouchercon (though I won't be at Anchorage--it's too expensive) and I'll do almost any appearance I'm asked to do. But I have a day job and a six-year-old daughter and tight deadlines for my books, so any moment I can get for myself is usually spent writing. I like to do research as well, but I have to squeeze it in. For Trashed I went to L.A., and talked to a lot of people (including a homicide detective and a Hollywood club manager with some unbelievable stories...) and spent hours and hours just driving and taking pictures. But that was all done within a three-day period. Then I had to get home and write.

What do you read for pleasure?

It used to be true crime. I've read every Ann Rule book that's ever come out except maybe one or two of the compilations. But now, I'm a true crime judge for the Edgars, so it isn't really "pleasure reading" any more. I like memoirs, literary fiction. Abigail Thomas's book A Three Dog Life comes to mind as a recent memoir that I read and just loved.

Do you study the novels you read to learn how the writers achieved certain effects? What writers have you learned from?

Pretty much everybody. Every crime book I read, I take something valuable from, whether it's Poe, Dostoyevsky, James Cain or somebody new. But probably the ones I've learned the most from are the real page-turners. When I was first figuring out how to plot, I read a lot of Sidney Sheldon. There's something about his pacing that's really addictive.

What are you working on now?

I'm working on another standalone called, appropriately, Next. It takes place partly in New York and partly in a small town in Mexico and features soap stars, dark secrets, and grisly, ritualistic murders.

Visit the author’s web site at www.alisongaylin.com.

Cornelia Read: From Stringbean to Maddy Dare

Interviewed by
Sandra Parshall

Cornelia Read is a refugee from the Social Register who was raised by hippies on the California coast. Her first novel, A Field of Darkness, was published in 2006 to rave reviews and was nominated for an Edgar Award for Best First Novel. Her second book, The Crazy School, will be out in January 2008. She lives in California with her husband and two daughters.

Loved the photo of you in a tux at the Edgars banquet. How much work was involved in getting into it?

You can’t tell in the photo, but it’s actually tails. I got the shirt, vest, tie, and collar from Brooks Brothers. The shirtbox was printed with an eight-step set of directions for getting all of it on, which took half an hour with my sister Freya’s and friend Heidi’s assistance.

I have gained a new and profound empathy for the plight of Victorian men.

What was it like to be at the Edgar Awards as a nominee? Stressful, dream come true, or less exciting than you expected?

I cannot remember ever having more fun during the course of a single twenty-four-hour period. I mean, getting to hang out in a banquet hall jammed to the rafters with my favorite people… the only thing at all comparable would be joining up with a bunch of scathingly well-read and articulate pirates to commandeer a super-tanker of Dom Perignon off the coast of Monte Carlo.

Seriously.

Now that you’ve accumulated all the rave reviews, plus an Edgar nomination, you can relax in the knowledge that your first book has been a success. But did you have any doubts and fears before it was released? Did you have nightmares about it ending up on remainder tables, marked down to $2.95?

I still have those nightmares, only there’s a huge DayGlo sign on each table that says, “Three for $.99! Burns like a charm in campfires, woodstoves!”

How long were you writing before you published? Did you always want to write mysteries?

I’ve been writing since second grade—mostly dreck, but it was fun.

I was more about espionage than mystery, as a kid. Passed through a serious Harriet-the-Spy/Ian Fleming phase, following close on the heels of my Batman/Lawrence-of-Arabia period.

I wrote the diary of a child CIA agent when I was in sixth grade. The title was “Call Me Stringbean.”

Like most writers, you probably spent a long time perfecting your first book before you sold it. Do you remember how many drafts you did of A Field of Darkness?

I started writing it the week before 9/11, 2001 and my agent was finally happy with the final version just before New Year’s, 2005. I did two more rewrites with my first editor, Kristen Weber.

I don’t know exactly how many drafts that was, all told, but I still have every page of them piled up in the top shelf of my desk—each incarnation of the thing, in chronological order—and the stack’s over two feet tall. Weyerhauser loves me.

Was the second book more challenging, or less, than the first?

Writing The Crazy School was terrifying. Partly because I didn’t want to disappoint the people who were so kind about Field, and partly because I am a total wuss whose self-confidence is a delicate little flower—pale and wan, trembling in the slightest zephyr.

Did you always intend to write a series, or did you want to write stand-alones?

I hoped a publisher would like A Field of Darkness well enough to entertain the idea of a series featuring Madeline Dare. She seemed like a chick it would be fun for me to embark on continuing adventures with, but I didn’t know if anyone else would agree.

I’ve just started the third novel in the series, but am hoping to try my hand at a World War II thriller for number four. I am completely, obsessively smitten with the idea I have for that book—very much hope my agent and editor think it’s worth doing.

Does your editor require that you submit an outline or proposal for a book before you start writing?

They didn’t for the first two. I described the third one over the phone and my new editor, Les Pockell, liked the idea. Madeline travels to Kashmir around 1990, and the first line is, “ ‘I hate India,’ said my mother. ‘It’s just so Sixties.’ ”

For the fourth they’ve requested a written pitch.

You’re a wife and the mother of two daughters. Has it been hard to balance home life, book promotion and travel, and writing?

Very, very, very hard… on everyone. I never feel as though I’m doing any of it well enough: parenting, writing, promotion, marriage. I live with a constant undercurrent of guilt and unfolded laundry.

I’ve started daydreaming about kibbutzes—also polygamy.

Do you still have the same critique partners you had before you sold your first book?

Yes, and they’re amazing. I am lucky lucky lucky lucky to have found my writing group. May blessings rain upon them for all eternity. [Cornelia, second from left in the above photo, is shown with her critique partners, Daisy James, Sharon Johnson, and Karen Murphy.]

What’s the best thing about being a published writer? What’s the worst?

The best thing is the people I’ve had the great good fortune to meet as a result. See above: Pirates. Dom Perignon.

The worst is when things don’t go the way I want for fellow writers. This is a subjective, no-backs-no-gives, despite-our-best-intentions-and-purity-of-essence crapshoot of a business, for all concerned.

I want the good guys to win, damn it.

What aspects of your writing have you worked hardest to improve? Who are some of the writers you’ve learned from, and what have you learned from them?

I have the hardest time with tangents. I get carried away, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the… um… yeah.

Suffice it to say that my revisions require stout boots and a sharp machete.

Listing the fiction writers who’ve taught me by example would crash your server. Every book you read can teach you about writing—both what works and what doesn’t.

The last three books I’ve read are examples of what works superbly well: Ken Bruen’s Priest, Daniel Mendelsohn’s The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million, Alan Furst’s Dark Star.

Books specifically on writing that I’ve learned crucial stuff from include:

You Can Write a Mystery
Gillian Roberts

Writing & Selling Your Mystery Novel: How To Knock 'Em Dead With Style
Hallie Ephron

If You Want to Write
Brenda Ueland

On Writing
Stephen King

Bird by Bird
Anne Lamott

The Art of the Novel
Milan Kundera

The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers
John Gardner

Self-editing for Fiction Writers
Renni Brown and Dave King

A friend of mine says it’s bad enough that The Sopranos is coming to an end and The Wire’s new season doesn’t start till September -- why does she also have to wait so long for your next book? Can you give her a little taste of the story to help her survive?

Can I say I am in love L-U-V with your friend? Because I so am.

Here is a brief rundown of The Crazy School: Madeline has fled Syracuse, New York, for the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. She’s teaching at a boarding school for disturbed kids, but soon discovers that the only true psychos on campus are the grownups in charge. The book also features a helicopter, Sixties nostalgia, Eighties ennui, contraband caffeine and nicotine, the Loma Prieta Earthquake, and a missing batch of C-4 explosive.

Visit Cornelia’s website at www.corneliaread.com.