Writing Obsessions - Part 2

Elizabeth Spann Craig (Guest Blogger)

If you missed yesterday’s post, let me catch you up to speed. I’m confessing to being a fully-blown, obsessive mystery writer. Are you one, too? Do you find yourself taking pictures of odd-looking characters when you’re out in public? Does your mind wander off when talking to someone that might be a perfect character for your book? If this sounds like you, then join the club!

More obsessive behavior that I indulge in:

Writing at odd times. Writing all the time. Have you honked your horn at a 40ish woman lately who was busily scribbling and incognizant the red light had changed to green? Might have been me. I frequently get ideas when I’m out running errands and, as a stay-at-home mom, I’m the errand-runner for the entire family. I’ll write at a stoplight in a skinny second. I scribble things in the middle of the night, at church, at school open houses, grocery store deli lines, and in carwashes. I’ve written on my hand, on receipts, and on napkins with eyeliner, crayon, and dead-or-dying pens.

Bringing up murder with non-writers. Apparently, I think that everyone thinks about murder as much as I do. When I’m out having lunch with my mommy friends, inevitably someone will bring up a really annoying neighbor, coworker, or husband. I’ll listen carefully, then say, “That would be a really wonderful motive for murder! Let me jot that down. Did I tell you I just found out that nicotine in liquid form is extremely poisonous? And it’s so accessible!” They have to gently explain, “Elizabeth, we’re just blowing off steam.”

I change storylines when my characters won’t follow directions. I’ve discovered that my characters come to life; and, like willful teenagers, they don’t listen to me. This is a rather Frankenstein-esque turn of events. I am their creator, yet they have their own agenda. You have to wonder if you’re losing it a little when this happens. If I don’t want my character to become an animal rights activist, then I should be able to prevent it. Instead, my characters frequently breathe their first breath and take off giddily in new directions. I try to rein them in, but end up changing storylines to incorporate their hobbies and interests.

I can't stop myself from revising a manuscript--even after I've turned it in to my editor or agent. I keep emailing updated versions of the document, with my new additions and corrections: “Dear Ellen, Please read this version, instead. Thanks! Elizabeth” The next day: “Ellen? Sorry, but I made some additional changes. Could you read over this version, instead?” Thank goodness for Word’s Track Changes, or I’d probably be on my editors’ and agent’s hit list. Even when I should be starting on my new project (that I have a deadline for and am under contract to deliver, for heaven’s sake), I can’t seem to let the original project go. A little wisp of an idea will come to me while driving and I’m jotting it down at the next stoplight. “Ellen? Hey, could you read this version, instead?”

Thanks so much to Sharon and everyone here at Poe’s Deadly Daughters for hosting me the last couple of days. It’s been really fun and I’ve been excited about participating in such a great blog for mystery lovers.
Elizabeth Spann Craig
Visit her web site
Pretty is as Pretty Dies—Midnight Ink, August 2009
Memphis BBQ series—Berkley Prime Crime (as Riley Adams)—May 2010

Writing Obsessions - Part 1

Elizabeth Spann Craig (Guest Blogger)

This is a two-part blog. More coming tomorrow, so don't forget to check back.

Elizabeth Spann Craig is the author of the August Midnight Ink release Pretty is as Pretty Dies and the upcoming Memphis Barbeque mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime (written under her Riley Adams pen name.)

 She’s the mother of two and currently lives in Matthews, North Carolina. Between juggling room mom duties, refereeing play dates, and being dragged along as chaperone/hostage on field trips, she dreams of dark and stormy nights beside stacks of intriguing mysteries with excellent opening lines.

Writing, in many ways, has completely taken over my life. There aren’t many minutes in the day when I’m not mulling over a plot point, weaving random ideas and dialogue into my book, or scribbling crazy little notes to myself that only I understand.

Occasionally, like most obsessions, I carry things just a little too far. Sometimes my writing methods get me into some trouble:

I become enthralled by people who remind me of characters: to the point of not actually listening very closely to them.

People fascinate me. And too frequently now I size them up to see how they’d fit into my book. What a wonderful lisp! Or, “What a pompous bore. He’d be great to add a little conflict to that party scene of mine. He could even be killed at the party! He’d make the perfect victim.”

I’ve gotten in trouble with this habit of mine before. I was at my son’s soccer practice and a woman came up, introduced herself, and started launching into a longish monologue. I was struck by the fact that she looked exactly like Camilla (the Prince of Wales’ wife.) It was incredible! Her gruff voice (I had no idea what she was saying, but I loved the way she sounded), aristocratically thin and horsey appearance—it all combined to give her this amazing similarity to Camilla. She moved with a rough elegance that amazed me.

I learned a sad lesson later when I discovered she’d been talking to me about the soccer snack schedule and I didn’t have the snack the following week at practice.

I snap pictures of interesting people.

This has yet to get me in trouble, but I’m sure my day is coming. At first I took pictures of interesting places for my files. I love dark places, abandoned barns, old houses that are falling apart, tired-looking architecture from long ago. Then I graduated to people. I kept finding unusual people around. Sometimes I’ve got my camera out anyway and it’s not that noticeable (I don’t think, anyway) what I’m taking a picture of.

The elderly gentleman above was a very interesting man I saw at a large amusement park a few weeks ago. He had the requisite black socks pulled up too high, was eating a lollypop, and shared his table with an egret. He also had a purse. He had to have his picture taken!

Unfortunately, he was already quite suspicious of me because…well, because I was staring at him. My social skills since becoming a writing enthusiast have definitely gone out the window.

I carefully looked in completely the opposite direction, leaning my chin on my hand. I snapped the picture with the other hand. As you see, the picture didn’t turn out exactly as I planned. Since, of course, I wasn’t looking through the viewfinder. But my second picture turned out much better. I won’t share that one here. But he was a wonderful character. Too bad he ran away from me as fast as he could.

Your name? Your child’s name? Your funny turn of phrase? Your eccentric habit? Look out, they may become my material.

I’m particularly looking out for things that get under people’s skin on an everyday basis—it might be enough to commit murder under, in the right circumstances. Just the final straw to push someone over the edge. Or enough to add a bit of side-drama to my book—like the gnomes in my recent release, Pretty is as Pretty Dies.
They came about right after a friend complained bitterly about her neighbor’s yard art. I decided yard gnomes would be the perfect way for my sleuth to get back at her interfering son. The fractious book club in my novel? It was inspired by a club that actually did exist…until the members became so irritated with each other that the club folded.

Am I alone in this odd behavior? Do you have any writing obsessions or eccentricities you’d like to share? Be sure to check back in tomorrow for more ways I’ve complicated my life with my obsession.

Elizabeth Spann Craig's web site.

The Gift

Last night I watched a wonderfully complex, dark comedy in which Cary Grant tried to murder Cecil Kelloway and Mildred Natwick so he could inherit an old airplane and an airport. They, in turn, were trying to cheat him out of his helicopter. The plot was full of marvelous comedic twists, including a poisoned Thanksgiving turkey, and a window seat in which people hid, always overhearing things they weren’t meant to hear.

Don’t strain yourself trying to remember the name of this movie, because it all happened in my head. I dreamed it.

Before I started writing seriously, the only time I had these complicated, lucid-at-the-time, make-no-sense-later dreams was when I had dental work. A couple of post-root-canal Codeine tablets, and I was ready to pack my bags and and take the next train to Hollywood.

As the plots in my books have been come more complex—at least, I hope they are becoming more complex—more of my dreams have taken on the aspects of old movies, often in black-and-white, and I tend to favor British actors. Okay, so Mildred Natwick was from Baltimore, but Grant, AKA Archie Leach was from England, and Cecil Kelloway from South Africa, so two out of three isn’t bad.

Every writer has had the experience of someone saying to them, “I have this wonderful story. I’ll tell it to you, you turn it into a book, and we’ll split the profits.” Except, when they do tell it to you, it’s not a story. At best, it’s a screamingly funny anecdote or a heart-bending tale of woe, but it’s not story. What’s the difference?

Story is plot. Beginnings, middles, and ends: a progression along what’s glibly known as the story arc. Tension. Twists and turns. Rising and falling action. Characters who have a life-changing event. Seemingly unrelated elements strung together in a way, which not only make sense the day you finish the book, but contain hidden gems. Good stories resemble those pop in your mouth candies that had a brief popularity when I was a child. Days or weeks after you finish it, a good story suddenly bursts forth with a little surprise, as you remember a line or dialog or an event and suddenly understand the story in a whole new way.

Story is also voice. It’s the cadence and rhythm, the choice of what to include and what to leave out. At one time I lived near the Appalachian mountains, an area with a rich tradition of oral storytelling. Going to story-telling festivals was fascinating, particularly one workshop where five story tellers all told the same story, a common “Jack tale.” If you’re not familiar with Jack tales, they all involve a young boy named Jack, who goes on a quest and, with a magical helper—like say, some magic beans—triumphs in the end and wins his heart’s desire.

Anyway, five storytellers, two men and three women, all told an identical Jack tale. Except that they were far from identical. Sure, the story elements were the same, but each teller’s voice was different. In this case, literally different, involving different postures, accents, rhythms, choice of words, and way that the story teller interacted with the audience. I came away feeling as though I’d heard five different stories.

Being able to make story is a gift, and not everyone has it. Some people have it in different ways. A friend of mine who is a musician, dreams in musical sequences, which I find both intriguing and downright scary.

Wherever this gift comes from—even if it’s in wonderfully wacky dreams—I’m grateful to have even a tiny part of it. If I can nurture that gift, help it set down roots, pass on even a tiny part to someone else, all the better. Go little story, go!

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Writing quote for the week:

You can always fix plot—you can’t fix voice.
~ Barbara Peters, editor, Poisoned Pen Press

Building a Career

by Darlene Ryan

If you came looking for Sharon Wildwind who's usually in this space on Tuesdays, check back on Saturday, Sharon will be here then, interviewing mystery writer, Lyn Hamilton.

Since we’re almost a month into the new year I thought this would be a good time to talk about building a writing career. Think of this as a list of things I’ve learned the hard way, things your mother would tell you, except she’s not a writer.

1. Writing for a living is not the same as getting published no matter what. The desire to have your book in print—to be able to wave it in the face of all those nay-sayers who’ve delighted in telling you it was never going to happen—can be enough to make otherwise intelligent people act as though their brains just fell out of their noses. If what you want is to make writing your career, stop pouncing on every gimmick and dubious opportunity that pops up. Set goals. Make a plan. If you don’t take your writing seriously neither will anyone else.

2. Writing is a profession. Behave professionally. Trashing your agent, your editor, your publishing house, or that writer you know who just signed a contract with a lot of zeros, in any public forum, will come back to bite you. With pointy teeth. In a place that hurts a lot. A conference is a public forum. So is a book signing, a workshop and a critique group. So is a blog. When that big vein in your forehead starts throbbing think twice about where you blow off steam.

3. Writing is a business. Educate yourself. Agents, publishers, genres, trends, marketing-- find out the basics about all of it. Read. Take workshops. Go to book signings. Make friends with librarians and booksellers and other writers. Ask questions. It takes years, a lot of studying, a lot of hands-on work, and more than a few shocks to become an electrician. Building a writing career isn’t a whole lot different.

4. Other writers are not the enemy. The publishing business is not like a cake. If Sandy and Liz and Julia and Sharon and Lonnie get to a cake first it’s likely there won’t be anything left by the time I show up—especially if it’s chocolate. But if Sandy and Liz and Julia and Sharon and Lonnie all get book contracts it doesn’t mean there’s no longer anyone who wants my book. I admit I’m not that highly evolved a person that I haven’t felt some twinges of jealousy, or eaten half a cake when a writer I know signs with the hotshot agent or gets a multi-book deal. But the feeling doesn’t last. And it gives me the push to get back at it, so that next time I’ll be the one with the good news.

5. Published writers don’t have some inside knowledge that gets them published and keeps you out. There’s no secret handshake or special code we add to our correspondence. We don’t say, “The scarecrow walks at midnight,” when we meet an agent or an editor so they’ll know we’re part of the club. We just write. We write the very best book we can. Then we send it out into the world and start writing another one.

6. Write the book. This one seems so simple but it’s also what messes up a lot of writers. You have to finish the book. And that won’t happen if you never get past chapter twelve. “But there’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me it’s all a pile of dreck,” I’ve heard more than one writer say. It’s your head. Ignore the voice. Kick it out. Tell it to go do something anatomically impossible.

And that’s it.

You want to be a writer? Go write.

That’s what it takes.

Pre-Published Writers and the Glass Slipper

Elizabeth Zelvin

Back at Halloween, I went to visit my granddaughters and found the 3 ½ year old decked out in full regalia as Cinderella. Young Cinderella reenacted the fairy tale over and over all afternoon, kicking off her transparent shoe (“Oh, no! I’ve lost my glass slipper!”) and trying it on again.
There wasn’t any prince in her version of the story, and she was in no hurry to get to the happy ending. Instead, before trying to fit the shoe on her foot, she would slip something into it, a pill bottle, a plastic fork, a finger puppet, leaving no room for her foot.“Oh, no!” she would moan. “I’m not Cinderella!"

Thinking about how good it feels not only to have a novel on the brink of publication but to be able to say I do, I’m reminded of how awful it sometimes felt to be a writer who had not succeeded in finding a publisher who found my manuscript a perfect fit. I’m not thinking so much of my recent quest of several years, when I’ve been surrounded by a huge network of other writers who know exactly how hard it is, and that talent gets most of us nowhere without incredible persistence and that bit of luck that can’t be willed or forced. Some published writers are kind enough to use the controversial term “pre-published” to help writers who so far have only the talent and persistence feel a little better about themselves.

Back in the 1970s, when I was writing and then trying to sell my first three mystery manuscripts (now hopelessly dated and unsalvageable), I remember being asked a cocktail party, “What do you do?” “I’m a writer,” I said. “What have you published?” my inquisitor asked. “Nothing yet,” I said. “I’m working on a novel.” The guy’s eyes glazed over and he drifted away.

Today, I’d have a lot to say to my younger self. “How far have you gotten?” I might ask. “Are you in a critique group?” “Do you have anything finished?” “Has anybody seen it?” “Have you taken any writing workshops?” “Have you sent it out?” If she had a completed and revised manuscript, I could offer helpful suggestions about how to seek an agent effectively. “Don’t let anybody call you a wannabe,” I would say. “You’re pre-published. Keep writing, keep revising, and keep sending out. Your mantra is “talent, persistence, and luck.”

For many years, I kept a Peanuts cartoon pinned up on my bulletin board. It showed Charlie Brown lying on his back on top of Snoopy’s doghouse, reading a rejection letter. “Your novel stinks,” it says. “I’ve never read such a terrible piece of writing. Stop trying to be an author.” In the last frame, Charlie Brown says, “It’s probably a form rejection letter.”

The trouble with writers is that we need the hide of an elephant, but many of us have the skin of a grape, and most of us lack Charlie Brown’s optimism. An agent or editor writes (as they do so frequently. “Not for me” or “I didn’t fall in love with this.” “Oh, no!” we moan, like Cinderella. “I’m not a writer!”

I admit freely that I’m a lot better writer than I was when I started sending the first version of my book to agents. I was impatient and had to learn from my mistakes. I’m also a much better writer than I was at the age of seven, when I first said, “I’m a writer.” Looking back, I can see it served me better to keep saying, “I’m a writer” and keep on writing than to get so discouraged I stop writing because any given agent or editor’s glass slipper doesn’t fit my manuscript. So here’s another mantra for those working hard to achieve first publication: “I’m a writer. I’m a writer. I’m a writer.”

Interview with Sandra Scoppettone

Interviewer: Elizabeth Zelvin

When and how did you become a writer?

My father wanted to be a writer. He wrote one novel and several short stories. He never sold anything, but when I was a child I thought he would. I think I was trying to emulate him when I wrote as a kid and then decided that’s what I wanted to do with my life. I was twenty-five when something I’d written was first published, a novelty book called Suzuki Beane. The illustrator was Louise Fitzhugh who went on to write Harriet the Spy. We sold Suzuki overnight and that’s what I thought the writing life was going to be like. The joke was on me.

I wrote three novels after that and none of them got published.

You wrote your 1984 book A Creative Kind of Killer, which won the Shamus award and was nominated for an Edgar, under the pseudonym Jack Early. What made you decide to use a masculine pen name? What prompted you to let it go and write under your own name? What kind of impact, if any, did name and gender issues have on your career?

The voice in the book came to me as a man. And in first person. I thought it might be distracting to have a woman’s name on it. And although I’d published quite a number of novels by then…let’s just say it was time for me to reinvent myself.

I let it go after two more Early books because another voice came to me. This was a woman’s voice, again in the first person. Also, the book was about a lesbian detective and I didn’t think a man’s name on it would be very politic.

The Early books got great reviews and I was compared to some of the best male crime writers. That hadn't happened to Scoppettone before and it hasn’t since. In 1984 there weren’t a lot of women being nominated for crime awards. Can’t prove a thing, but I’ll never be dissuaded that using a man’s name on the book at that time accounted for its reception.

You were one of the founding mothers of Sisters in Crime. What was that like for you?

It was strange because I was Jack Early then. I can see a group of us in Baltimore, sitting around a table in a hotel room, I think. Each said who she was and what she wrote. It was very exciting because I’d read some of these women. We had no idea what SinC would become. It didn’t have a name then.

How effective do you think SinC has been in changing things for women writers?

I have no statistics but there was a period in there when tons of women were getting published and winning the prizes. I think there are over 3000 members now. It has obviously helped a lot of women know they’re not alone. As for actual sales you’d have to ask someone else. Getting reviewed in certain newspapers is still a problem.

Your work includes series and stand-alones, adult and young adult books. What have been the high points in your long and varied career? How about low points, if you’re willing to share?

A high point was selling my first novel. Once again it gave me a false impression of the publishing business because it sold in a week. This was my first YA novel. Another high point was being reviewed for the first book in my detective series in the daily New York Times. That’s a lot harder and more prestigious than getting reviewed in the NYTBR. At least, I think it is.

Low points? Plenty. Certainly writing under the name Jack Early was a low point, despite how it turned out. As I said, I needed reinvent myself. I couldn’t get arrested as Scoppettone. Another low was not getting a contract to continue my Faye Quick series. And right now isn’t too hot. I spent the last year writing over two hundred pages (without a contract) only to put it away because I couldn’t make it work.

How much of you is there in your various protagonists? Do you have a favorite among the characters you’ve created?

There’s a lot of me in all my protagonists. But I can’t write about myself directly. No memoir or autobiographical novel for me. I guess my favorite character is Lauren Laurano in my five-book detective series.

Your latest work is the Faye Quick series, set during World War II. What drew you to the period and to the noir style? What have been the challenges?

The forties has always been a favorite decade of mine but I’d never set a book then. The idea of a woman taking over a detective agency because her boss had to go to war just popped into my mind one night.

I don’t see these books as being in the noir style. Not at all. Noir to me is dark. The Faye Quick books are light and funny. I hope. But some reviewers have called them noir. I don’t understand that.

What’s the difference for you in working on a series book or a stand-alone? What have you learned about writing a series that has helped you with the latest one?

I don’t really like writing a series because the excitement of creating new characters is not there. Yes, each book has some new characters, but your protagonist is your protagonist.

A stand-alone is exciting. Everything is new. What I learned about writing a series is never to write more than four. This time it was decided for me and there will only be two.

How about your young adult books? What drew you to that audience?

I directed a play with kids for a community theater project, Youth On Stage. I don’t have any children but I was around teens for an entire summer. They gave me the idea. And two friends of mine were writing YAs so I thought I’d give it a shot.

How different was it from writing for adults? What demands did the genre make?

It was writing a novel. I didn’t feel there was any difference. Only the cast of characters. I can’t think of any particular demands. In my YAs I was able to write about all the topics that interested me.

Not all of your YA books were mysteries, though the last, Playing Murder in 1985, got another Edgar nomination. Was there a unifying thread in your YA books? Would you ever write another?

I don’t know. I think that’s for someone else to see. As for writing another, I don’t ever want to say no.

The Jack Early book Donato & Daughter was made into a movie. What was that experience like?

There was no experience. Not for me. I got the check and saw the finished movie on TV with everyone else.

You lived in New York City for many years before moving out to the North Fork of Long Island in 1998. How do you like country living? Do you ever get into the city? Has it become the proverbial nice place to visit?

I’ve lived here twice. Seventeen years apart. I like the quiet. It’s somewhat annoying during the summer when it’s not so quiet as this is a resort area. A number of my friends from New York also live here.

I get into the city about three or four times a year. I’m not sure it’s a nice place to visit. I think I had the best years of NYC. It’s impossibly expensive and seems dirtier than I remember.

What’s next for Sandra Scoppettone?

I have a new idea but I never talk about what I’m going to do. It’s dangerous for me to do that. If I talk about it then I don’t want to write it.

After all this time, what keeps you writing?

I don’t know how to do anything else and I’m a writer. That’s what I do.