A Visit to the Real World of Cops

Sandra Parshall

Writers are to blame for some popular misconceptions about police work.

Mystery protagonists are usually detectives. They almost always work in pairs, because having a partner gives the main character somebody to argue with, worry about, and chew over the baffling details of a case with. They’re frequently in danger and always whipping out their guns and yelling “Freeze!” because that sort of thing makes for a more exciting story. And, of course, they end every investigation with a potentially deadly confrontation.

The reality of police work is a little different. Patrol officers are the first on any crime scene, and they do more of the work than novelists ever give them credit for. Whatever their rank or duties, cops all start out the same, as recruits in training. If you ever have a chance to tour a training facility, don’t pass it up. Last weekend, I visited the Fairfax County (Virginia) Criminal Justice Academy with a group from the Sisters in Crime Chesapeake Chapter, and thanks to our guide, instructor and police officer Gary Pearson, I have a better understanding of day to day law enforcement.


Fairfax, in the Washington, DC metro area, is an urban county of 395 square miles, with more than a million people – a greater population than seven states. The income level is high, the crime rate low. On average, the county has fewer than 20 murders per year, compared to 200 or more (sometimes much more) in DC, which covers just 68.25 square miles and has half the population of Fairfax County. Gangs have become a problem in a couple of places in the county, and at the other end of the criminal spectrum, several of the 9/11 terrorists lived here.

The county has about 1,700 police officers and is constantly training recruits to replace retiring officers and the relatively few who leave for other reasons. Anybody over 21 with a high school diploma can apply to the academy, but as Officer Pearson told us, “If that’s all you have, you’re not going to be accepted.” Cops with bachelor's degrees have become the norm, and the department works with local universities to help officers obtain master’s degrees if they wish. The rough-edged, uneducated cop still exists in fiction, but you probably won’t find him on the Fairfax County force.

In more violent settings, police may work in pairs, but in Fairfax County officers usually work alone. Recruits learn to handle every possible situation in a section of the academy that looks like a small movie set, with a shopping mall, a bar, a bank, a schoolroom, and a full-scale apartment. While our group made its way through the apartment rooms, our guide switched off the lights to give us a taste of what it’s like to enter a dark place without knowing what awaits. The training exercise alone would scare me to death, and I could never summon the courage for the real thing.

A mock booking room, with fingerprinting station and holding cells, and a mock courtroom are used to train recruits in the work that follows an arrest. Rubber mats on the floor prevent injuries when the role-players who are being “arrested” and “booked” try to fight their way free.


Recruits learn everything you’d expect police officers to know – how to shoot (and what part of the body to aim at), how to subdue a violent suspect, how to spot suspicious behavior. They discover that it’s possible to function after getting a blast of pepper spray in their faces. However, the skill they will use most often as working cops is communication. Most officers go through their entire careers without ever firing their guns on the job, but they spend plenty of time defusing volatile situations with words.


In Fairfax County, police will never yell “Freeze!” because they can’t be sure the person they’re trying to stop will understand the word. More than 15% of the county’s population is Asian, more than 10% is Hispanic, and a lot of foreign embassy employees live here. Not everyone is fluent in English. The police use a warning that’s more likely to be understood: “Police! Don’t move!”


Can I use what I’ve learned in my writing? I’m not sure yet. Let’s face it, the average cop’s work is not the stuff of exciting, compelling fiction. A mystery or suspense novel has to play up the drama, fudge the details now and then, and rely on pure invention when reality won’t serve the story. But keeping an eye on the truth might prevent me from making the kind of egregious errors that cause real cops to ridicule crime fiction.

*************
Congratulations to Jen, who won a free copy of Shoots to Kill last week!

The Show Must Go On

Sharon Wildwind

In poker, telling is a bad thing. A tell is a mannerism, which alerts the other players to what you're holding and what you're likely to do next. If, for example, you pull on your left ear lobe every time you think you have a winning hand, that's a tell. A person who tells can lose big bucks.

That's true in writing as well as poker-playing. We're all familiar with the standard exhortation to show, not tell. It comes right after that old saw, write what you know, as standard advice to writers. What the heck is the difference between showing and telling anyway, and how do you know when you've written one or the other?

Let’s start with an example of a business man who has to decide among three proposals. He’s made a decision and is writing a short report to say how he arrived at his decision. He writes:

Implementation proposals were submitted by three internal development teams. All three submissions were reviewed by the writer. Proposal C, while it contained an excellent short-term plan, was lacking in several components crucial to long-term performance, and it was discarded. A and B, the remaining proposals, were similar in cost projection and implementation strategies. However, a cost-benefit analysis, conducted by the writer, indicated that Proposal B was a better match for current corporate structure, and was selected as the winner.

This style of writing is still promoted for businesses in order to appear objective and remove any emotional content from business writing. It shows all the bad habits that won’t work in fiction: distancing from the reader through jargon, use of the passive voice, and the a bland format devoid of any human content. This is an example of passive voice, with telling and it's the worst of the lot. Can you imagine a whole mystery written in that style?

Here's a step up, active voice, with telling

Larry looked at the three folders on his desk. The day he’d listen to one of Dinwoody’s cracked ideas was the day he’d need to be put out to pasture. He tossed Folder C in the garbage can.

He weighted A and B, one folder in each hand, balancing one against the other, as if the weight might tell him something. Close. Darn close. He wished again that young Porter had taken his advice and not submitted. The boy had promise, no doubt about that, but this project needed a steady hand at the tiller. VanDoon it was, then.

He punched his intercom button. “Gloria, get hold Rijas VanDoon. Tell him I want to see him in my office this afternoon, three o’clock if that’s convenient.”

He didn’t know why the board made him go through these stupid exercises. He could have told them from the beginning that VanDoon was the man who’d come out on top.

The passive voice is gone, but readers are still distant from what’s happening. Everything the reader knows about Larry, his company, and his choice of proposals is filtered by the author. The reader is reduced to watching Larry as he/she might watch a person on TV or through a window in the next building.

When the author tells, she controls the reader's access to the story by what details she chooses to include and what reactions she chooses for the reader. Telling often leaves the reader with more questions than answers, and those questions tend to be focused backwards.

Why are Dinwoody’s ideas cracked? Did Larry even read proposal C before he chucked it away?
Why is Larry in a position to give Porter advice? Why didn’t Porter take the advice?
Was VanDoon’s proposal really that good or are Larry and Rijas part of an old-boy’s network?

A common mistake writers make is to think that first person—“I” stories—go inside a character’s head and that third person stories—“him” or “her” stories—take place with the author and writer watching from outside. In fact, both first and third person stories go inside a character’s head. Let’s go inside Larry, experience the scene as he does, not as an outsider looking in.

Larry ran his calloused hand over the thick cardboard folders. They didn’t make cardboard like this any more. Now it was all purple transparent plastic goop, for God’s sakes. Whoever heard of a business folder being purple? Plain, green cardboard said dependability, and as long as he was in charge, plain, green cardboard it would be for any proposals he was going to consider.

The further he flipped through Dinwoody’s proposal, the more the paragraphs shrank in size. Long-term Projections was one anemic sentence. Crap, man, if Dinwoody couldn't dance with bullshit, fake a couple of paragraphs to pad out that there were no long-term projections, he didn't deserve this project. Proposal C landed in the garbage can with a thunk.

Larry balanced Proposals A and B, one on each hand, moving his hands slowly up and down as if his body was a scale. He closed his eyes. If weighing things blindfolded was good enough for Blind Justice, it was good enough for him. The tiny weight difference confirmed what he already knew. Close, darn close.

It was still his business, and he had a right to run it the way he wanted. Assuming it was still his business in six months. Who did he want on the other side of his conference table for the next six months? Jason Porter in his sleazy silk shirts and gold earring? Rijas VanDoon in a charcoal grey suit, white shirt, and understated tie? Men in earrings turned his stomach.

Larry held his finger over the intercom button for a second, then jabbed at it. “Gloria, get hold Rijas VanDoon. Tell him I want to see him in my office this afternoon, three o’clock if that’s convenient.”

Here the reader has an opportunity to touch what Larry touches, hear what he hears, measure his opinions against theirs—maybe the reader thinks purple project folders are cool—and, in the end, the reader sees that Larry makes his decision not on the basis of how good proposal A or B is, but on what Jason and Rijas wear. The reader also learns that Larry is old-fashioned, far from being politically correct, and that his business may be in trouble—it was still his business hints that it might not be his business forever.

Many times showing is also ambiguous and leaves possibilities open. Maybe Larry has just made a terrible mistake that will cost him his company. On the other hand, maybe Jason should make him nervous. Maybe Rijas is the right man to save Larry’s company, though chosen for the wrong reason. Showing sets up not only tension for the immediate question—choosing proposal A, B, or C—but for further repercussion in the story. Like telling, it raises questions, but these questions look forward.

What if Dinwoody decides to get even?
What if Porter does?
What if Rijas VanDoon has had a mid-life crisis, bought a Harley, and shows up at three o’clock wearing biker’s leathers, an earring, and has a tattoo running up the side of his neck?

How to recognize when telling, not showing is important

Events that have no emotional significance; events whose only purpose is to slide the plot forward can be shown.

Larry paid the cashier and took his tray to a table at the far end of the cafeteria.

The Monday morning meeting was a bust. Two hours and forty-seven minutes of unrelieved boredom. As soon as it ended, Larry practically ran for the phone in his office.

Larry looked down at his cold latte. Didn’t anyone drink plain, black coffee any more?

Unless the infamous Rijas, in his motorcycle leathers, is waiting at that cafeteria table, or leading the meeting, or beside Larry in the coffee shop, there’s no need to go into character angst for every small detail. Look for emotionally-charged moments where showing can really shine. Ask yourself, if this happened to me in real life, would I have an emotional reaction? If the answer is "yes," you need to show, not tell.

How to spot a tell:
Have you used a past-tense verb?
Is what the character felt shortened into a summary?
Is body language, dialog, and interaction used to convey the feeling?

If the answer to the first two questions are “yes” and the last one “no,” you probably want to think about a little rewrite.
-----
Writing quote for the week:

I usually know within the first paragraph if I’m interested in a book. It's all about the writing at that point; there hasn't been time for characters or premise to really kick in yet. You may lose me later if the writing stays strong but the rest isn't up to par, but you'll lose me immediately if the writing's not there, no matter how good your concept.
~Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, editor for Berkley, June 2008

What's in a Decade?

by Julia Buckley




















Today I attended a birthday party for my godson Joseph; he is now ten. Like all adults who like to think that children get older but big people don’t, I was surprised to think that ten whole years had gone by since Joey was born (my own youngest son was born the same month, and his party is next Sunday).

In order to get a sense of how long a decade really is, I looked back at the events of 1998 so that I could decide if it really felt as though ten years had passed. Tell me what you think:

In 1998:

--January 22: The Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski, pled guilty and accepted a sentence of life without parole.

--February 3: A United States military pilot caused the deaths of 20 Italian skiers riding on a lift. The low-flying plane snapped the cable that supported the conveyance.

--February 7: The Winter Olympics began in Nagano, Japan.

--March 5: NASA announced Lt. Col. Eileen Collins as the first woman commander of a space shuttle mission.

--April 7: Citicorp and Travelers Group reveal plans to merge into Citigroup.

--May 14: The final episode of Seinfeld aired after nine years on the air.

--June 3: A high-speed train derailed in Germany, causing 101 deaths.

--June 4: Terry Nichols was sentenced to life in prison for consipiring in the Oklahoma City Bombing.

--July 17: Czar Nicholas II and his family were buried in St. Petersburg, 80 years after they were slain by Bolsheviks.

--August 17: Bill Clinton admitted that he had an “improper physical relationship” with Monica Lewinsky.

--September 7: Google, Inc. was founded.

--October 15: American Airlines became the first airline to offer electronic ticketing.

--November 9: The United Kingdom formally abolished the death penalty.

--December 19: Bill Clinton was impeached by the United States House of Representatives.

In books, juvenile literature had some standouts:

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (JK Rowling) and
Holes (Louis Sachar).

In the world of mystery, P.D. James, 77 at the time, published A Certain Justice.

At the Academy Awards:
Best Picture: Shakespeare in Love
Best Director: Steven Spielberg.... Saving Private Ryan
Best Actor: Roberto Benigni .... Life is Beautiful
Best Actress: Gwyneth Paltrow.... Shakespeare in Love

Looking at all of these things, I realize that it does, in fact, seem like a long time ago. Children, because we see them every day, create the illusion that time can stand still. At the end of a decade, though, I can say that I am most pleased with the little men my son and my nephew have become—and I have the highest hopes for what they might accomplish in the next ten years.

Let us hope that in 2018 (yikes) the events someone lists on a blog will contain MUCH good news and that the young people I speak of will continue to bring hope into our world.

Killing Off Main Characters

Michelle Gagnon

I recently fell in love with someone else’s series. That’s happened to me a lot over the years. I stumble across an author whose work I absolutely love and proceed to gobble up their books, one after another, becoming horribly depressed when I reach the last one and am forced to wait months or even a year for the next installment.

I remember when I first discovered John Sandford’s Prey series, and couldn’t get enough of Lucas Davenport. Ditto with Janet Evanovich’s Plum series. So to find a new one was a treat. I tore through the books, one after the other, slowing down my reading pace as I approached the final pages of the last book to relish it.

And then, it happened. After the climax, when things finally appeared to be working out for two of the characters after they had suffered horrible tragedies throughout the novels, one of them was killed off. Mind you, this wasn’t one of the second tier characters populating this world, but someone who every storyline had pivoted around. And truth be told, it was my favorite character.

Another of my favorite writers had recently done this with his series, but at the end he coyly hinted that the character might indeed have survived. Despite the fact that when we last saw him he was being dragged to the bottom of a bay under the weight of an enormous steel net, surrounded by ravening monsters, hey, I bought it. Anything to believe he’d be there for me in the next book.

But not here. I finished the last few pages in shock. Even though it was the middle of the night I got on my computer and went to the author’s site. There was a letter which explained the motivation behind eliminating the character. It confirmed that he was indeed really, truly dead.

I actually had trouble sleeping that night, turning it over in my mind. I came under considerable heat for killing off a major character in my first book, a decision that hadn’t been made lightly, either.

But hey, mine was only in the one book, I hadn’t devoted thousands of pages to him. I pondered whether or not I could continue reading the series, especially since I wasn’t nearly as attached to some of the other main characters. And clearly, when a writer does this, the gloves have come off. Anyone could be next. As fellow fans of the series “LOST” know, the last season was a humdinger, major characters dropped like flies as they wound down to the finale. It was shocking for someone who had followed the show from the outset, because there’s a certain tacit agreement made. They’ll be placed in perilous situations, but rest assured that somehow the main characters will survive. Don’t waste your emotional energy on Ensign #4, he’ll be blasted off the Enterprise bridge before the credits, but Kirk isn’t going anywhere.

I’ve thought about this a lot since I finished the final book, debating. Did the author do the right thing, the brave thing? In some ways, I think not. The problem with a series is that frequently you’re forced to subject your main characters to all sorts of unpleasantness, much of which no one would ever encounter in the course of everyday life no matter what their job is. The trials can quickly become Job-like. Remember the season of “Six Feet Under” when the Fisher family just could not get a break? After David was carjacked, I almost quit watching. I felt they’d veered off the skids into the realm of soap opera. Killing off the character in this book felt much the same way to me, unnecessarily melodramatic, when what I’d appreciated about the writing was how that wasn’t usually the case.

So will I continue reading the series? It’ll be difficult for me not to, if for no other reason than I’m curious to see how the author handles it. I’m guessing a large leap forward in the timeline, otherwise it will simply be too depressing watching the other characters deal with their grief. But part of me clings to an alternate ending of the story, one that I’ve created in my own mind, where the character survives and goes on to live happily ever after. Delusional, I know, but then again it is fiction. And what’s wrong with a fairy tale now and again?

So how do you feel about losing a character that you love? Has that ever stopped you from reading a series? Include your email and I’ll draw a name out of the hat for a signed first edition of Boneyard. Or better yet, sign up for my newsletter at www.michellegagnon.com and be entered to win fabulous prizes such as an Amazon Kindle, iPod shuffle, and Starbucks & Amazon gift cards.

Michelle Gagnon is a former modern dancer, bartender, dog walker, model, personal trainer, and Russian supper club performer. Her debut thriller THE TUNNELS was an IMBA bestseller. Her next book, BONEYARD, depicts a cat and mouse game between dueling serial killers. In her spare time she’s still trying to recover from the loss of Jin.

JUST THE FACTS, MA'AM???

TIME: Monday morning, 9 A. M. Central Standard
PLACE: Hardee’s, Metropolis, IL.
NAME: Lonnie Cruse
OCCUPATION: customer, writer

I take a seat by the front window with the strawberry biscuit I’ve been dying to sample and a decaf coffee, small. Hubby sits across from me with a sausage biscuit and a regular coffee.

To my left, near the door, the ROMEOS (Really Old Men Eating Out) are seated at their usual table, laughing, drinking coffee, and calling out greetings to all and sundry. Hubby often tells me (clutching dramatically at his chest) that he really knows no one in Metropolis despite the fact that we’ve lived here over eleven years, but I can’t help noticing the ROMEOS recognize him and wave, though not to me. Truth to tell, he knows more people than the President of the United States. And they all know him.

To my right, near that door, four couples hold down a table with the women folks at one end talking about important stuff and the men folks at the other end pretending to talk about important stuff.

Directly across from me a woman sips from a large paper soda cup and reads a paperback book. She’s about three-fourths of the way through the book. As an avid reader and an author, I’m absolutely dying to know what book she’s reading, but I can’t bring myself to interrupt her to ask. (I tried to sneak a peek as I tossed my trash into the can behind her, but my contacts don’t reach quite that far.)

Another obviously married couple sits at a table near the ROMEOS, drinking coffee and taking in the surroundings but not talking to each other. Two tables down, in our row, an elderly woman lowers a window shade to keep the sun out of her eyes.

A man enters the building, comfortable in his clean overalls, silver hair curling just below the nape of his neck, beard needing a trim. He orders, eats, and exits before the rest of us, obviously with places to go and people to see. Possibly a farmer still caring for crops or retired and still dreaming about them?

On our way to Hardee’s I’d mourned the fact that I’d forgotten to take my zip-up sweat jacket because it’s bound to be cold in there. After all, it’s August outside so the air conditioner will be on high inside, right? Hubby, a frequent Hardee’s customer, assures me it will not be cold inside. I’m not convinced. But as I gaze around the dining area, I realize he’s right. And I realize why. While no one on the kitchen side of the counter appears to be over twenty-five, no one on the customer side (including yours truly) is under sixty. A cold dining area would almost certainly trigger a riot in this crowd. Sigh. Where was I?

If I were to give this scenario to a group of writers and ask them to write a story using this setting, the resulting variations of those stories would be nothing short of amazing. Some would come up with a romance: Widow/widower beginning a new life? Adulterous gazes across the room? May/December romance across the serving counter? Others would make it into a mystery: Poison slipped into a coffee cup while someone is picking up the rest of the order at the counter? Hit and run in the parking lot drive-through? Or a thriller: Drive-by shooting? Fiction novel covering the life of one of the ROMEOS: He/she was a CIA agent, Presidential advisor, undercover cop, now retired but knowing which closet holds which skeletons? Hmmm.

The problem with becoming a writer is that you can’t just sit down and enjoy a quiet strawberry biscuit and a cup of decaf on a lovely August morning without checking out your surroundings and filing away facts for a possible story line later. Much like a cop sitting with his/her back to the wall, firearm at the ready, scanning the same seemingly innocent room for possible trouble, writers scan rooms for possible stories. And we always get them. Or at least we get an blog post like this.

If you are a writer who is suffering from writer’s block, why not take a ride to your nearest Hardee’s, get one of those lovely strawberry biscuits and a cup of coffee, and find yourself a story? It’s there. And be sure to tell them I sent you.

When the Author Gets It Wrong: The Writer’s View

Elizabeth Zelvin

It’s well known in the mystery and crime fiction world that on TV it’s okay to disseminate any inaccuracies the writers and producers feel like (eg CSI, in which crime scene investigators interview witnesses), but woe betide a novelist who gets the slightest detail of history, forensics, geography, or anything else wrong.

“You’ll get emails,” I heard long before my own book was published. “You can’t have a head-on collision on West 83rd—it’s a one-way street!” “You couldn’t hit someone’s gun hand at that distance with a .22!” "America didn't get into the war till 1917!" I always imagined that these emails served as a life sentence with no parole. “Your books will never darken my bookshelves again. You got it wrong!”

To tell the truth, I was sweating it out with Death Will Get You Sober, since the world has changed considerably since I started writing it and even since I completed the first draft. My editor waved away my suggestion that maybe I needed one of those forewords about literary license. “I’ve kind of telescoped the gentrification of the Bowery,” I told her. "I wanted to give a bit of the flavor of the old days, but I want the story to take place more or less in the present.” She didn’t think I needed to tell the reader that.

As it happened, nobody’s said a word about that particular issue, although the Bowery’s gentrification is even more complete today than I ever dreamed it could be. On the other hand, two different book clubs have pointed out an inconsistency in the chronology of my primary victim’s life. “If he fought in Vietnam, how could he be 47?” In 2008? He couldn’t. Oops. When Barbara first went through Godfrey’s medical chart in 2002, it was just possible. He says himself that he “got to Nam for just long enough to start enjoying the drugs, and then the war was over.” (Wanna kill him yet? Somebody does.) If I ever get a chance to change it, he’ll be 54 or 56. That’ll work, because at that point, the demanding reader will check not the calendar but the original copyright date.

I’m glad to say that both book clubs whose members caught the error pointed it out very kindly indeed. The first even said they wondered if their ability to do the math had fallen prey to senioritis. Nope, it was my goof, as I hastened to reassure them. I had dinner with the second group, which consisted of thirtysomething contemporaries of my son, after they read the book. They had no doubts about their faculties, but they were fascinated to hear about the writer’s process of writing and rewriting, trying to get published for years, and inevitably letting an error or two slip by no matter how many people read the manuscript.

Next time around, I’ll be more assiduous in my research and more careful in checking for accuracy. When it’s the first book, the writer is tempted to say, “How important is it to look that closely when the manuscript may never be published?” Knowing for sure that real people will read the thing is a great motivator. On the other hand, I’d hate to think that I managed to get published so late in the decline of the novel that I’ve completely missed the novelist’s right to a little literary license.

Next week: When the Author Gets It Wrong: The Reader’s View

Kate Collins Shoots to Kill

Interviewed by Sandra Parshall


Kate Collins had no burning ambition to write novels. (“Are you kidding? I didn’t even like writing checks.”) After earning a master’s degree in education, she taught for six years before taking time off to raise her children. While casting about for a creative hobby, she discovered she had a flair for storytelling, and before long writing became a second career. She started with children’s stories, moved on to romance, but eventually decided that what she enjoyed most was the plotting and writing of mysteries. Shoots to Kill, her seventh Flower Shop mystery featuring Abby Knight, is out this week. Kate and her attorney husband divide their time between Indiana and Florida.

Everyone who leaves a comment today will be entered in a drawing for a free copy of Shoots to Kill.


Q. Tell us about your new book.

A: Shoots to Kill is about identity theft in the extreme. My sleuth/heroine, Abby Knight, is a law-school flunk out-turned novice florist who always trusts her gut feelings and isn’t afraid to take a stand against injustice. In this book, however, when no one will believe her claims that a young woman for whom she once babysat is stealing not only her identity, but also her life, she begins to doubt herself, even as she’s being drawn into a bizarre murder plot.

I’m really excited about Shoots to Kill. It’s an enjoyable, thrilling, roller-coaster ride of a story that takes my sleuth into new territory, and has enough twists and turns to keep readers guessing. Abby’s “double” was a character I really enjoyed creating. I think the readers will enjoy her, too.

Q. Did you do a lot of research on identity theft for the book? Did you learn anything that made you change your own habits?

A: Identity theft problems are growing exponentially, and information is everywhere on how to avoid them, but this story is about a unique kind of identity theft. My son suggested the idea, and not long after, I saw a news article about a man who suffered for years because another man stole his identity -- basically his life. That really got my imagination fired up.

As far as changing my habits, I learned a lot when both my daughter and stepson had their wallets stolen and then went through a nightmare period of trying to get new ID, canceling credit cards, and worrying that people were out there ruining their credit ratings. I’ve started separating my credit cards and ID from my money whenever I travel, even if it’s for a shopping day in Chicago. If my wallet were to be stolen, the thieves would get some cash, but no cards. For overseas travel, I pack copies of my driver’s license, passport, and the 800 numbers to call the credit card companies, just in case. And I never, ever take my social security card with me. As far as preventing Abby’s type of identity theft, well, good luck with that.


Q. Where did you get the idea of giving Abby’s mother a llama? How well-acquainted are you with the real Catastrophe – and do you think she would object to the way you’ve portrayed her in the book? Incidentally, is it true that llamas often spit at people?

A: I’m always scouting for novel ideas for Abby’s mom’s art projects and find a lot of inspiration in Key West art shops and fairs. But the idea for the llama came from a newspaper article about a llama show being held at the county fairgrounds here in Indiana. (A llama show? Who knew?) Being extremely, no, detrimentally, curious, I decided to do hands-on research. To my delight, I discovered llamas are sweet-tempered, unlike camels, and are extremely shy, with big doe eyes and long necks, and have the softest, prettiest fur imaginable. Catastrophe’s (Taz’s) fur reminded me of my calico cat’s coloring. I’ll have a photo of Taz on my website this month. She’s pregnant, by the way, for the first time. Her owners are very excited. Actually, so am I. I feel like an aunt.

Catastrophe’s owners love their llamas (they had eleven when I met them last year) and treat them as pets. But it was when they told me they sheared their llamas’ belly fur and had it carded to make balls of yarn that I realized this was something Abby’s mom would do. I don’t think llamas spit, but then, maybe the few I met didn’t find me objectionable. They do get overheated easily, which is why it’s important to keep their bellies cool.

Q. Your family seems to support your writing career enthusiastically, with your son offering ideas, your husband advising you on legal matters, and your sister critiquing your manuscripts. Do you talk over plots with any of them before you start writing? Do you ever have to say no to their suggestions?

A: My family, even my extended family, is very involved in my career. They’re my support staff, and are quite a creative bunch in their own right, including a theater set designer, a classical violinist, a jujitsu gold belt champion, and an opera singer. I always run plot ideas past my husband. He’s a criminal defense lawyer, but more importantly, a voracious reader, so he has a sense of what works and what doesn’t. Usually I’ll talk his ear off during our afternoon walk. (We walk every day, rain, heat, snow, tornadoes, whatever – just ask my neighbors. They refer to us as “those crazy walkers.”) I like to bounce ideas off my sister and my son before I start a story and often during the writing because each offers a different perspective, and they’re not offended at all when I don’t use a suggestion. Well, okay, maybe they are offended and just don’t want to tell me. In any case, it works for me.

Q. Why do you think it took you so long to discover that you’re good at writing? Hadn’t you ever read a novel and thought, “I could write a better book than that”?

A: My thoughts were more along the line of, “How is it possible to fill 400 pages?” I’d always hated writing assignments in school, so I couldn’t imagine a career in writing. But when I quit teaching to have a family, I needed a creative outlet, so I went through every possible type of art – macrame, tole painting, rug hooking, cross stitch, sewing, crochet – I’m sure there’s more. Finally, I saw an ad for a course in writing for children, so on a whim, I took it. (Most of my big life changes happened because of some whim of mine. Like getting on a train and going to Chicago to an RWA convention. I had no idea what RWA was, other than some kind of writer collective. I was shocked and delighted to learn there were a whole bunch of women out there who had characters in their heads, too. ) It wasn’t until I’d started selling children’s short stories and got a handle on what constituted good writing (and more importantly, good story-telling) that I took a closer look at the novels I was reading and thought, “Hey, I can do that.” And after an incredibly naive attempt (think really smarmy Pirates of the Caribbean-style-romance) I did it.

Q. Do you still write romance novels, or have you decided to stick with killing people full-time? What attracted you to those two genres?

A: I absolutely love solving puzzles, almost as much as creating them, which is what a mystery writer does. Besides, it’s way more fun to kill people than to marry them off. Also, if you’re mad at someone, write them into the plot, then do away with them. It’s very cathartic.

In the early stages of my career I really enjoyed writing historical romances (and doing the research, which was fascinating). I was in a lonely period in my life and needed romance. The problem was, all of my plots had mysteries in them, to the point that my editor kept saying, “You’re writing romances, remember?” Once I settled into a very loving second marriage, I made the decision to pursue my real love, mysteries, full time. With that said, I also discovered I can’t write mysteries without romance in the plot. That’s not how life is. Hence the Abby/Marco relationship.

Q. Do you have a strict writing schedule? What do you do if you feel cranky and just can’t get the words to come?

A. I treat writing as a job. I’m in my home office and at the computer by nine in the morning, take a lunch break, then am back at it until 4 p.m. When I’m nearing a deadline, it’ll be a seven days-a-week schedule that might run until 8 p.m. at night. But cranky? Pffft. Never happens. (Don’t tell my husband I said that.) On days when I don’t feel in the mood to write, I’ll watch an hour of HGTV or a cooking show, and after suffering through the endless commercials, my bored-silly mind screams, “Are you a glutton for punishment? Go write something entertaining!” Once I’m actually staring at the page I wrote the day before, I get enthused and can write for hours. I’ve never had writer’s block. I have too many ideas simmering in my brain. It’s almost embarrassing at times, especially when someone is telling me a tragic story, and that little voice in my head is saying, “Hmm. That could work as a plot in my next book.”


Q. How long does it take you to write a book? Does your editor require that you submit an outline or synopsis for approval before you start writing?

A. I like to have nine months to write a book, including research time, although I did a book in five months (and had neck and stress problems as a result). I’m a plodder. I like to craft my story and sentences carefully, adding humor whenever I can, and that makes for a slow, deliberate process.

I always submit a synopsis for approval, usually a 4-5 page proposal. Often, my editor will catch a plot glitch that I didn’t see, so, although I’d rather have the proverbial tooth pulled than write a synopsis, it’s a useful tool. You can’t get on a train and not know where you’re getting off. But trying to anticipate plot twists and turns ahead of time is, well, murder. Most of those twists appear as I get deeper into the story – things that a character will say that I hadn’t anticipated, or a natural reaction to something that I hadn’t foreseen -- and therefore can’t be included in an outline. As a result, my proposals can be mind-numbingly dull. Luckily, my editor knows the story will be anything but.

Q. How much of your time do you spend on promotion? Has that changed at all since you began publishing? Have you found a good balance between writing time and time spent on selling your books to the public?

A. My 9 a.m.-- 4 p.m. daily shift used to be pure writing time, but now well over an hour a day is eaten up by promotional, mainly on-line, work: Myspace and Facebook updates and requests, fan mail, ad and newsletter designs, blogs, website updates, etc. I’m not complaining. I love contact with readers. That’s what makes this often grueling career rewarding. (Nothing beats opening up an email that starts, “I just read your book and I can’t wait for the next one!”) Well, that and the money. I mean, you know, I like to eat, too.

Q. What aspect of writing – creating characters, devising plots, coming up with murder methods, etc. – is most fun for you? What gives you the most trouble?

A. Titles give me the most trouble. I search for months before I find a turn of the phrase that makes me laugh. I love character development and I love creating snappy dialog. They’re so much fun, and what I do best. When a reader tells me she identifies with a certain character, or really wants to smack a certain cousin of Abby’s for being so dense, or can’t wait to find out what Abby’s mom’s next art project will be, I know I’ve struck a chord. Making characters come to life and involving readers in their lives is what story-telling is all about. Devising plots takes a lot of intense thinking, but I see it as a challenge. I don’t like graphic murder scenes and rarely read thrillers for that reason. So the murders in my books tend to take place off the page. Coming up with murder methods isn’t easy or particularly enjoyable. Coming up with an unlikeable character to do away with is.

Q. Shoots to Kill is your seventh Flower Shop Mystery. Do you plan to continue with it indefinitely, or do you have other series ideas you want to explore?

A: I’ve already finished the eighth book in the series, Evil in Carnations, (February 2009) and am working on a plot idea for the ninth book, with a contract running through number ten, so right now, I’ll continue the series as long as readers enjoy them. I like my characters, and actually miss them when I take time off in between books. They’ve become a part of my family. In fact, my real family will often comment, “That’s something Abby would like” -- or Jillian would wear, or Marco would say.

And then there’s the problem of getting too close to my characters. Once, I was listening to a group of women talking about flower arrangements, and I actually forgot it was my character Abby who was the florist. I was ready to give my professional advice on how to arrange the flowers. With that said, I have hung out a lot with local florists to get an understanding of their daily chores and pour over floral magazines for inspiration for the arrangements I put in my books, so I almost feel like a florist.

A new series? Definitely. I’m working on a kernel of an idea right now. But that’s for the future. Abby has a lot more trouble to come.

Q. Will you be at any upcoming conferences where fans can meet you?

A: I attend Malice Domestic, a big mystery readers’ convention in Arlington, VA, each spring. I also do speaking engagements and personal appearances in the Chicagoland, Northwest Indiana, and Southwestern Michigan area, and occasionally in Key West, but otherwise, I’m in the bat cave writing.

Q. What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

A: You may be sorry you asked. Being a former teacher, I have a list . . .

My foremost tip is to join a writers’ group, a serious writers’ group that offers critique sessions, which are absolutely crucial to helping a novice produce a saleable manuscript. Aspiring writers don’t always have someone who can give them solid feedback on their skills. Family members tend to think every word is a gem, and although that does stroke one’s ego, trust me, it’s not helpful. It took my sister a long time before she felt comfortable editing my pages, understanding that I wanted brutal honesty, and that she wouldn’t be damaging my psyche if she corrected something. Now I have a sneaking suspicion she uses it to get even with me for childhood grievances. (I’m the older sister.) I credit joining RWA and subsequently attending their national conference with getting my first book sold, but I credit my critique group for sharpening the skills that enabled me to keep selling those romances.

My number two tip is to know the rules of grammar and punctuation backwards and forwards. If you don’t, find someone to ruthlessly edit your writing. I’ve read pages of manuscripts that were so poorly written, I didn’t know where to begin to help. You know the television commercial where the man is on an interview, and the stain on his shirt is talking gibberish that drowns out his words? That’s what errors do to a story. I’ve seen those tall slush piles and know busy editors have to read them after work, on weekends, in any spare time they have. If they pick up a manuscript and see run-on sentences, bad punctuation, and poor grammar on the first page, that puppy is going into the discard pile. The competition out there is fierce. Your manuscript must be professional. I can’t stress that enough.

Number three is to be a really good story-teller. (I mean, if you can’t even tell a joke . . . ) Writing a great sentence is a craft; story-telling is an art. Some people just don’t have it. You have to recognize where your talent lies. And you have to be prepared to do it over and over again. Which brings me to . . .

Number four: Finish the damn manuscript! A writer can’t expect to be a best-selling author if he or she can’t even complete one story. Writing groups are filled with people with good intentions. They work on a chapter for a year and never seem to move forward. I like Stephen King’s advice: Do a page a day. In a year’s time, you’ll have a book. Naturally, this assumes you have a plot. Once you’re on a deadline, you’ll have to produce more than a page a day, of course. More like five to ten.

Number five: Be prepared to promote your books in as many ways as you can. I foolishly thought that once my first novel was sold to a publisher, I was home free. So I sat back and waited for sales figures to pour in. Ignorance may be bliss but it’s also a death knell to anyone who wants to keep selling. This is something that’s not emphasized enough. Promote, promote, promote. For me, that’s the hardest part of my profession.

Now, if numbers one through five haven’t scared you off, but only made you more determined, then bravo. You’re ready for . . .

Number six: Believe in your talent! Don’t let statistics scare you off. Don’t let rejection letters dissuade you. Not everyone will love your writing or your characters or your story, but if you’ve written a damn good story, the probability is high that someone will. And if not that one, then maybe the next. Finish the book, send off your query letters, and then start another story while you’re waiting for responses. The more you write, the better you get. When I submitted my very first manuscript -- you know, that Pirates of the Caribbean wannabe? -- I didn’t know what the competition was like. I didn’t know much of anything, except that I had great stories to tell. That’s what this career is all about. Telling great stories.

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

Goodness Grips Gotham

Sharon Wildwind

Since I blogged twice last year about bats, and since Christian Bale is my favorite Batman, you should have known this blog was coming. Yesterday, I went to see The Dark Knight—in IMAX no less. To truly appreciate this, you have to understand that I have a morbid, shrieking at the top of my lungs, fear of heights.

As the movie started with an arial view of Gotham City, I remembered that a lot of Bat-tricks involved leaping from tall buildings and that for the next few hours I would be trapped in a full theater, watching those leaps on a six-story screen. Poor planning.

I did okay. I kept my eyes open, whimpered only once, and learned to love that “popping” sound the Bat-cape made as it deployed. It was the violent scenes where I closed my eyes. People hurting other people for fun got old quickly.

It was the portrayal of Gotham City where the story lost me. Everyone assumes, of course, that Gotham is really New York City. In the nineteenth century the American author, Washington Irvine, used “Gotham” as a nickname for NYC.

Some of us have another idea. I share an alternative theory with comic book artist, Neal Adams, and with Christopher Nolen, the director of the Christian Bale-as-Batman movies, that Gotham is, in fact, Chicago.

Gotham was not just relegated to the Batman universe. It crossed over into Superman’s territory, and Swampthing, and Shadowpact, and Mr. Scarlet, and Wow! Comics, and even into H.P. Lovecraft. It’s location was also rather mobile, especially in relation to its sister city, Metropolis.

Wherever and whenever it was, Gotham was supposed to be a dark place. Middle-of-the-night, middle-of-winter, abandoned-by-all-decent-feelings dark. Art-deco dark. One of the powerful images I carry from childhood was the way the comic artists drew the graceful curve of Batman’s back as he knelt on one knee in rubble, with his head bent and his cape spread out on either side of him like broken angel wings. He knew he couldn’t win and he knew he couldn’t quit.

The Dark Knight tried—and, in my humble opinion, failed—to portray the city’s darkness through dialog. There was all the talk of how corrupt the city was, of mobsters and constant danger to everyday citizens, and cops on the take. But in the background, out of all of those glass windows at Wayne Enterprises or Bruce Wayne’s penthouse apartment, or even police headquarters, we saw a colorful, clean city going about its business, with even one might say, a perky attitude. When The Joker essentially said to the city’s entire population, “Leave Gotham now or die,” citizens queued nicely and waited to evacuate. There was no panic, no pushing, not even a little wailing and gnashing of teeth.

This Gotham-the-Good was a example of what the writer, Sherry Lewis, calls “perfectly nice syndrome.” What this movie needed was fewer monologs about how knives can be used to hurt people, and more ordinary Gotham citizens trapped in situations where they couldn’t win and couldn’t quit. A crippled newsboy would have helped. Or a welfare mother in hock to all those mobsters. I’d have even settled for a lost dog.

As writers, we frequently talk about raising the stakes for the characters. We also need to raise the stakes for our settings as well. Here are four ways to do it.

It’s as old as the hills surrounding Sodom and Gomorrah, but there’s nothing like a natural or man-made disaster to have characters pinging off of one another. Put the town in physical danger and give the heroine a limited ability to save what is dear to her. Explore what she would save, why she would save it, and how she would do this.

Damage the man-made landscape. The Dark Knight would have worked better in a city that had more garbage and fewer sidewalk cafes.

Make a small change in the physical environment create a significant change in a character’s belief system. For a great example of this, watch the wall mural scene in Pleasantville, and the compromises Jeff Daniel’s character is willing to make before the town council.

Create an imbalance between the overwhelming angst pushing down on the character and a small moment of pleasure, in which the character fights to remember all the good things about being human.

I hope that the Bale-Nolen team do something different with Gotham for their next movie. Maybe not as far as in Batman Begins, where the city was wrist-slittingly depressing, but something that gives the old girl a bit more character and gives Batman a heck of a bigger reason for giving up any hope of a normal life in order to defend her.

-----
Writing quote for the week:
“I made a promise to my parents that I would rid the city of the evil that took their lives.”
~Bruce Wayne

Where Are The Children?

by Julia Buckley
I remember that title--Where Are the Children--was the first suspense novel I ever read by Mary Higgins Clark. I was riveted to the story because children were in jeopardy, and I desperately wanted them to be reunited with their mother.

When I had children of my own, my worst fear, especially when they were babies, was that they would be kidnapped or that I would somehow lose them and put them in jeopardy--that someone out there in the unknown world would find them and hurt them. Mothers, after all, read the newspapers, the magazine accounts, the true crime stories, of children who are victimized. When I brought my first son home and would sometimes fall asleep nursing him, I would have bad dreams suggesting I'd forgotten my infant somewhere. I'd wake up with a jolt, saying, "Where's the baby?"

"In your lap," my husband responded, his face suggesting that I'd brought a touch of insanity back from the hospital. But that was how it went when both of my sons were tiny. Once I had a dream that our family went to the mall; I set the baby's carrier down in the mall parking lot, then went into the mall without him. When the realization hit me (in dream world)--I was horrified. I'd left a tiny, defenseless baby all alone. Anyone could have walked off with him.

In another dream I forgot my oldest child (then four) when we went on a trip, and in my rearview mirror I saw him chasing after our car, as fast as he could run, and I was remorseful that I'd abandoned and frightened him that way. It was my worst fear--that something would make me acknowledge the smallness, the vulnerability of my children--but perhaps it was necessary. It kept me ever vigilant, ever alert in the real world. I'm still that way, even now that my oldest is a sarcastic thirteen. Sure, he can hold his own in a battle of wits, but he's still my baby, and there are things he doesn't know about the world, and I'm going to protect him for as long as I can.

And THAT is why I have trouble believing the story of this woman, Casey Anthony, whose three-year-old daughter Caylee was missing for a full month before Casey reported it to the police. In her accounts to the police she has lied consistently, and I see no instinctive mother's fear about where her tiny daughter might be. If you listen to the 911 calls in the link, you hear Anthony's MOTHER, Cindy Anthony, asking the police to arrest her daughter Casey (although the mother has now changed her story, and insists her daughter is innocent), because the car Casey Anthony stole from her own parents smelled like a dead body.

What bothers me the most about this young woman, who is now in custody, is her utter lack of fear for her child. Listen to Casey Anthony's voice on the second 911 call (after her mother hands her the phone). Where is the fear? Where is the anguish at what might have happened to the toddler in a month away from home? This mother has the same lack of authenticity that Susan Smith had when it became clear, to the police and to America, that something was not right about her account of how her two little boys came to be missing.

Knowing how the Smith case turned out back in 1994 makes me worry for little Caylee, missing from a mother who didn't seem that eager to find her--unless, like Smith, she knew where her daughter was all along.

I once lost my three-year-old son at a baby shower in a church hall. He was missing for a maximum of about ten minutes--maybe less--until we found he'd wandered into a far corner of the hall, behind a curtain, and was playing there. In that time I had an eternity to envision what might have happened to him. The church was on a busy Chicago street, and if my son had wandered outside--it didn't bear thinking about. I was in tears, begging every party guest to look for little Ian, which they did. He was found, he was fine, and he had no idea he'd caused me any grief.

The notion that a child could be gone for an entire month tells me that there is much more to this story that the public doesn't know, and I fear it will have a very sad ending.

Getting Started—Keeping Going: Finding Time and the Words to Write

by Darlene Ryan

More winners! Congratulations to Susan E. who wins The Writers' Book of Matches and a Laura Secord frosted mint chocolate bar. And congrats as well to David Cranmer winner of copies of Twilight Falls, The Watchman, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and a Laura Secord dark chocolate almond bar. Please send your snail mail address to me at darlene at darleneryan.com (change the "at" to @ of course)

Thank you everyone for joining us this weekend.

When I wrote my first book the munchkin was a baby, her father was working out of town, and I had to walk everywhere. Up hill. In waist high snow. In my bare feet.

Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little. My point is I didn’t have a lot of time—or a lot of adult company which probably explains why,for a short time, Luis on Sesame Street started looking pretty darn cute. But I finished the book and it was published. I was tired all the time. I was either with the munchkin, doing laundry, or writing. But I finished the book and it was published. The key for me was setting a goal and working toward it every day.

I wanted to write that book more than I wanted to do just about anything else. More than I wanted to watch Law & Order—and I have a deep and abiding adoration for Jesse L. Martin—more than I wanted sleep. Every day I did something that got me a little closer to that goal. I wrote at least a page, even if I was sitting at the computer literally holding my eyelids up with one hand and typing with the other. I checked out publishers’ websites and prowled the bookstores and the library for books similar to mine, while the munchkin sat in her stroller and tried to launch her teddy bear over the shelves like some furry Evel Knievel.

If you have little people in your life—or maybe it’s aging parents—grab every chance you have to write. Carry a small notebook and pencil and scribble down ideas, lines of dialogue, scene descriptions everything, as soon as you think of it. Because with little people clamouring for your attention ideas disappear faster than Cheerios®. When you have more time, expand your ideas, write those scenes—either when everyone’s gone to bed or before they get up. I found that if you wait until you have time you’ll never get that book written.

Take a hard look at your week. Spouses and kids can bake potatoes, steam veggies and sprinkle some cheese over it all for a great supper giving you half an hour to write. You won’t really pine away to nothing if you don’t see the delectable Wolf and the next episode of American Gladiators. (Does anyone know if he has a poster, by the way?) And be honest: how much time do you really spend checking email? A few minutes here, a few minutes there can add up to enough time to write a page or maybe two. And in a year that’s an entire book.

But what happens if you find the time to write, but you can’t find the words? What do you do when you’re stuck. Call it writer’s block. Call it fear of failing or fear of succeeding. Doesn’t matter. You’re frozen in front of the keyboard. Now what?

Having a detailed outline is one way to keep from feeling stuck when you’re writing. But not everyone likes to use an outline and even those of us who do, can write ourselves into a hole.

The best way I know to get unstuck is to write myself out of the hole, after all, I wrote myself in. I know some writers who can think themselves unstuck. I have to do it with words. Sometimes lots of words. Most of what I write under those circumstances I don’t use. That’s not the point. If it’s your writing time you write. Even if everything you create is dreck. Pretty soon it won’t be. (And if it is, there’s always editing. See yesterday's post.) I keep writing, no matter how awful what I’m writing seems, until I figure out what my problem is and how to fix it. At one time or another I’ve used all of the following to get myself unstuck:

1. Decide what the next logical thing to happen should be and write the opposite.

2. Reveal a deep, dark secret about a character.

3. Change the point of view character. Or change POV all together—from third person to first, or from close third to omniscient third.

4. Put two characters together who have no connection and have them fight, share information, or get lusty.

5. Turn the main character’s best friend into her enemy.

6. Turn the main character’s enemy into a friend.

7. Kill someone—the main character’s source of information, his best friend, his mother.

And if none of these ideas work for you, there’s always chocolate. Just keep writing. Probably the best writing advice I ever heard came from Billy Crystal’s character in Throw Momma From the Train: A writer writes.

There are two giveaways today. One for inspiration and one for entertainment.

To inspire you: The Writers’ Book of Matches—1001 writing prompts and a Laura Secord frosted mint chocolate bar.

To entertain you: Twilight Falls by Lynn Viehl, The Watchman by Robert Crais, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson and a Laura Secord dark chocolate almond bar

(Disclaimer: Lynn Viehl is a writing friend. Lynn gave me an advance copy of Twilight Falls. It's terrific. If I had problems with the book I'd say so. I received an advance copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo from the publisher. I couldn't put it down. Again, if I didn't like the book, no matter where it came from, I'd say so.)

If you'd like a chance to win one of these two giveaways, make a comment on this workshop (or just say “Hello” in comments) before eight PM eastern time today, August 3, 2008. The munchkin—who like Elliot Ness cannot be bribed—will draw two names from everyone who comments. The draw is open to anyone, anywhere, even if you’ve won something here before. Good luck.

For a list of more workshops to inspire you visit: Paperback Writer