Sandra Parshall
I thought donating naming rights for animals in one of my novels would be an easy way to contribute to charity auctions at mystery conventions and wouldn’t have any effect on the book. Because my protagonist, Rachel Goddard, is a veterinarian, I’ll always have animals in my books and will always be in need of names for them. I’ll just stick in the “purchased” names without changing anything, right?
To my surprise, those animal names led to some major revisions in Broken Places–all of which strengthened the story.
I first sold naming rights at Bouchercon in Baltimore in 2008. I offered to let someone name a dog. Bidding was going well enough, but it could have been better, so I spoke up and offered to throw in a cat too. This, predictably, led auctioneer Chris Grabenstein to comment on the perils of throwing a cat, but it also inspired Meg Born to raise her hand and say that if I added a guinea pig, she would pay handsomely. Sold! I did, and Meg did.
Then I thought, “Guinea pig? I don’t even have a guinea pig in the story!”
Back at home, I had to do some research about guinea pigs because I've never kept one. Unless you're a guinea pig aficionado, you would not believe how many books about these animals are in print. You would think every home in the nation harbored the cute little rodents. Anyway, after I learned a bit about the species, I realized I had a perfect place for Mr. Piggles, Meg’s guinea pig. My hero Tom Bridger has a seven-year-old nephew, Simon, who plays a role in Broken Places. Giving Mr. Piggles to Simon allowed me to write a short scene where I could show the bond between Simon and my heroine, Rachel, as well as cast suspicion on another character. To bring Mr. Piggles to life, I used what Meg had told me about his habit of soliciting treats by lifting a tiny, empty bowl in his teeth and squeaking.
As it turned out, Meg didn’t have a cat’s name in mind, so she named two dogs instead. Again, I added animal characters I hadn’t planned for. A crusty old geezer who lives next door to two murder victims comes off as completely unsympathetic, not to mention suspicious, when he’s introduced in a scene with Tom Bridger. I didn’t want readers to make up their minds about him immediately, though. He acquired Maggie and Lisa, the dogs named by Meg. His late wife had doted on the dogs, and since her death he has pampered them out of love for her. Who could hate a guy like that?
Still working on Broken Places, I offered animal naming rights at the Malice Domestic charity auction in spring of 2009. When Marisa Young bought this auction “item” neither of us knew that she would help me make a breakthrough in a vital section of the book. The dog name Marisa donated was Cricket. I don’t want to give away too much by revealing how Cricket changed my story, but when I was looking for a place to put her, I realized what was missing from a certain part of the book and how I could fix it. Thank you, Marisa and Cricket!
Of course, not all the animals in Broken Places were named by other people. Rachel’s African gray parrot, Cicero, and her cat Frank (who has one and a half ears) carried over from the previous book, Disturbing the Dead. Cicero was inspired by our veterinarian’s green parrot and shares a bad habit with him–a habit that saves Rachel’s life. Frank is a replica of a cat we adopted many years ago when he was a starving, beat-up stray.
Rachel’s friend Ben Hern—a murder suspect in Broken Places—is a popular cartoonist who uses his cat Hamilton and his dachshund Sebastian in his comic strip, Furballs. Hamilton is named for the handsome cat (pictured) who lived in Lelia Taylor’s Creatures ‘n’ Crooks Bookshoppe. (Hamilton is now retired from bookselling and leads a life of feline leisure.) Sebastian has a name that I just happen to like.
I may be finished with naming my own animal characters, though. The names that came to me through auctions worked minor miracles on the manuscript of Broken Places. Maybe the names I auctioned at Bouchercon in Indianapolis will work the same magic on my current project. If I’m still in need of inspiration, the next Malice Domestic auction is coming right up.
Sandra Parshall
I knew a character in a future Thomas H. Cook novel would bear my name, but – considering how long it takes a novel to wend its way through the production process – I thought “future” meant 2010 or beyond. I acquired the naming rights to a Cook character last October, when a generous friend placed the winning bid at the Bouchercon live auction and passed it on to me as a gift. I resigned myself to waiting a year or two to see it happen. So I was both startled and thrilled a few days ago when I was reading Cook’s just-released novel, The Fate of Katherine Carr, and came upon this bit of dialog on page 24: “Sandra Parshall, the woman who runs Brookwood Residential...”
I gave a little yelp of pleasure and read on, thinking that would be “my” only appearance in my favorite writer’s new book. But wait! On page 35, my name popped up again in a telephone conversation, followed by a full-blown scene. A speaking part! I felt like a lowly film extra who’s been plucked from the anonymous crowd and shoved in front of the camera.
I have to admit it felt weird. I’ve used real people’s names in stories, so I ought to know better, but there I was, comparing the fictional Sandra Parshall to the real me. She’s described as “a woman in her late thirties” – oh, hey, I like losing all those years and reclaiming what I’ve begun to think of as my youth. But... she has “somewhat lusterless brown hair, cut in a way that was ruthlessly indifferent to style.” Now hold on a minute. I don’t have the best hair in the world, and heaven knows it drives me nuts most of the time, but this seems a bit unkind. Oh, stop it, I told myself. This is a character, it isn’t you! But the next day found me in the hair care aisle at CVS, weighing the virtues of various products that promised to leave the user’s tresses shiny enough to blind onlookers. Can Tom Cook now claim that his novel has changed a life, or at least someone’s hair? Alas, no. After trying new products, I don’t see much difference in the luster level, and as for the style, I lay all the blame squarely on Cassie, my hairdresser.
The brief trauma of the lusterless hair behind me, I continued reading, certain I wouldn’t see my name again. But on page 63, the fictional Sandra turns up on one end of a telephone conversation. We don’t learn a great deal about her, but she seems a compassionate person, a professional caregiver who tries to project optimism for the sake of desperately ill patients. I approve. I’m happy to lend my name to this fictional woman.
I’m getting a little worried, though, about reactions to the way I’ve used real names in my next book, Broken Places, which will be out in March 2010. I don’t expect the real Cricket to object to the fictional Cricket being bigger, heavier, and shaggier, but will the person who bought the naming rights for a dog feel that I’ve insulted the real Cricket? Will the owners of the real Maggie, Lisa, and Mr. Piggles take offense at my portrayals? Will the real Angie think my character, a young woman, is a bit too blindly devoted to her handsome employer? But I gave her nice hair, Angie!
I’m beginning to appreciate the courage of a writer like Robert Fate, whose new book, Baby Shark’s Jugglers at the Border, is filled with characters named for real people. Although most will be pleased with the mentions, Bob writes in the acknowledgments, “Andre Jardini will complain, but doesn’t he always?” I’m not sure I’ll ever dare to go that far with humans, but I’ll be at Bouchercon this fall, once more offering an animal name as a prize in the live auction. If someone wants to donate a princely sum to charity, I'll add another animal of any species the winning bidder wants. Then the PDD readers may have to suffer along with me as I struggle to justify the presence of a walrus or camel in a rural Virginia community.
By the way, my blog sister Julia Buckley recently interviewed Thomas Cook about The Fate of Katherine Carr and his writing life, and if you haven’t read the interview yet, you missed something special. It’s an excellent complement to a wonderful book, which I would recommend even if it didn’t have my name in it.
Sandra Parshall
Mystery fans are the only people I know who will happily pay somebody to murder them. If they can’t find anyone willing to bump them off, they’ll settle for being turned into dogs or hookers.
At every big mystery convention – Bouchercon, Malice Domestic, Left Coast Crime, etc. – an auction of items donated by writers raises thousands of dollars for charity. The biggest chunk of money goes for “items” that cost the authors nothing and can’t be carried home in a suitcase: the chance to have their names given to characters in future novels.
I don’t know whether it’s sheer love of the genre, the desire for a kind of immortality, or latent masochism, but the bidding for this honor can be fierce. At the first Malice Domestic I attended a few years ago, I looked on in open-mouthed wonder as someone paid $800 to have her name in a Donna Andrews novel. At Bouchercon in Baltimore this year, the highest bid of the auction was $1,500 for naming rights in a Laurie R. King book.
Reviewer Andi Shechter and librarian/writer Gary Warren Niebuhr, great friends to the genre, have both bought “appearances” in several books. Short, dark-haired Andi got a kick out of being a tall, blonde hooker in an S.J. Rozan mystery, and Gary got a three-in-one deal in Rozan’s Winter and Night: a major character is named Gary, another character’s last name is Niebuhr, and the setting is a town called Warrenton.
Of course, writers have always enjoyed slipping the names of real friends and relatives – and their pets – into fiction, free of charge. (I don’t think the real Spike paid to be immortalized as the lovably disagreeable terrier in Donna Andrews’s Meg Langslow series.) Everything I write includes at least a couple of characters named for friends. But character-naming isn’t always done out of affection. There’s a lot of truth in the warning that you shouldn’t antagonize a mystery writer because you might end up dead or serving a long prison sentence – in the pages of a book.
Honoring friends and getting even with enemies are private pleasures for the writer, usually not shared with readers, but some writers use the lure of naming rights in future books to promote a current release. Karin Slaughter’s recurring Get Slaughtered contest is always deluged with entries. Lisa Gardner named a murder victim in Gone for a contest winner.
Contest and auction winners usually see their names attached to characters who appear in only one book, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Tess Gerritsen’s medical examiner, Dr. Maura Isles, got her name through an auction and was intended as a one-book character, but the fictional Maura grabbed a permanent role as co-protagonist, with Detective Jane Rizzoli, in a best-selling series.
At Malice Domestic this year, I decided, with some trepidation, to try my luck at raising money for charity by donating naming rights to a character. Because I’m not well-known and haven’t published a lot of books, I was afraid no one would be interested. I crept into the room as the auction started and sat near the door so I could creep out again, mortified, if nobody wanted to be in my book. Angie Hogancamp saved me from disgrace. She’ll be one of the good people in my next novel.
For the Bouchercon auction this year, I donated animal naming rights, figuring people would pay even more to immortalize their pets than they would to see their own names in print. The bidding was under way for the right to name a dog, and I’d already offered to throw in naming rights for a cat to raise the ante, when a woman in the audience said that if I would add a guinea pig, she would pay $900 for all three. Sold! Look for Maggie, Lisa Marie, and Mr. Piggles in my next book. Many thanks to Meg Born for her amazing donation to the Enoch Pratt Free Library and Viva House, a mission for the poor and homeless in Baltimore.
I also came away from Bouchercon a winner, after an incredibly thoughtful friend won naming rights for a character in a Thomas H. Cook novel and gave the prize to me because Cook is my favorite writer. So now I'm going to find out how it feels to see a character on the page bearing my name. I'm pretty sure it will feel fantastic.
Do you enter character naming contests? Do you bid for naming rights at conference auctions? Have you ever won, and were you happy with the character that got your name? (I know one cat owner who was miffed when she paid to have her feline in a novel and his name was given to a human.) Why do you think people enjoy this so much?
*********************************
Whatever your choices, get out and VOTE on November 4!
Posts
Then I thought, “Guinea pig? I don’t even have a guinea pig in the story!”
