Posts
Elizabeth Zelvin
My debut mystery has been out for quite a while now, and I have a deal on the second in the series. By any standards, I have fulfilled my lifetime dream of being a novelist. But my book about recovery from alcoholism is not a runaway bestseller. I didn’t think it would be, not only because fame and fortune come to a first-time fiction author who isn’t already a celebrity about as often as someone wins the lottery, but also because I’ve chosen a theme that is not everybody’s cup of tea.
Among my mystery writer friends are those who write about enormously popular topics such as antiques and gardening, and those who provide a peek into such fascinating worlds as dairy farming, the blues, and the Middle Ages. None of these subjects offers any threat to readers. And at least some of these authors are finding their career path a little smoother than mine. Do I get discouraged? Sometimes. Would I trade? No way.
Substance abuse, including alcohol and tobacco abuse and dependence, is considered the top preventable health problem in the United States. At least 100,000 alcohol related deaths occur each year. One study showed that alcohol appeared in 93 percent of the most popular movie rentals, tobacco in 89 percent, and illicit drugs in 22 percent, indicating how pervasive substance use is in our culture.
The thing about alcoholism is that only 3-5 percent of alcoholics are Skid Row derelicts. (In fact, having worked on the Bowery during its final years as a Skid Row, I can say with confidence that there are hardly any chronic “pure alcoholics” left. More and more chemical dependents get high on whatever they can get their hands on.) The rest are your Aunt Fanny, ie people just like the rest of us who have slipped gradually into more and more serious drinking problems and the denial that accompanies them. The good news is more than two million sober alcoholics in AA and many more who have benefited from professional treatment.
I chose to write Death Will Get You Sober rather than a blander mystery on a more palatable topic because I had a fervent desire to write, not about drunks and drinking, but about the transformational process of recovery. In my 25 years working with alcoholics and those who love them, I have seen more than my share of miracles: hopeless cases turning their lives around. Like any writer, I dreamed of having readers and reviewers acknowledge the quality of my writing and my storytelling. I wanted my characters to come to life. I wanted readers to love them. But part of my dream was that readers who had lived through the pain of alcoholism, whether in themselves, a spouse or partner, a parent, or a child would find hope in my story and acknowledge that I’d gotten it right.
That dream has come true. One reader with 35 years sobriety wrote that I was “the first professional who really seems to get it.” Another bought extra copies for family members who are longtime AA members. A judge whose “experience with the addicted is mostly with failure” was “happy at your hopefulness.” Some said they chuckled or, in one case, “spent much of the time I read the book laughing.” Some were “profoundly moved.” I was moved myself when a reader wrote on a mystery lovers’ e-list: “Like many... I've had experience with losing a loved one who suffered from alcohol and drug abuse.... I hesitated in reading Liz's book for fear of what it might force me to face, or remember.... And now I am so happy that I put those fears aside. It’s a lovely book with wonderful, well developed, perfectly defined characters. I found the story to be rich and complex, realistically humorous and uplifting and I loved it.”
I’m only human. I wish the book were coming out in paperback. I’d love to have a place on the New York Times bestseller list, an Edgar or Agatha nomination, a movie or TV option. But I knew going in—not at age seven or in high school, but certainly by 2002 when I started sending the manuscript out—that these were unlikely long shots. Have I already gotten what I came for, the reward I dreamed of when I poured my heart into this book? You bet I have.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Life's not fair. Neither is publishing.
Sandra Parshall
I can’t recall a time when writers, myself included, weren’t complaining about the dire state of publishing – the difficulty of selling a book, the difficulty of staying published once you’ve broken in, the unfairness of it all.
The cries of doom have risen to fever pitch in the last week, with news of widespread layoffs and downsizing at some of the biggest publishing houses. When Timothy Egan’s column titled “Typing Without a Clue” appeared in the New York Times last Sunday, a lot of writers seized on it as the perfect expression of their own frustration with a business that chases bestsellers and spends money on books of little merit instead of nurturing real talent.
I have to admit I’m bemused when I see mystery writers praising Egan’s piece as if he has championed their own cause. While Egan raises valid questions – what can Joe the Plumber possibly have to say that warrants putting his thoughts between covers, and why would anything written by Sarah Palin be worth a $7 million advance? – I don’t think he's speaking for crime fiction writers. Like most people who rant on this subject, Egan seems angered by the lack of support for literary novels and, as he says, "extraordinary histories" and "riveting memoirs" as well as the works of foreign writers who “struggle to get past a censor’s gate.” I don't think he's upset by the difficulty of getting a new cozy mystery or police procedural published.
(Egan himself writes history, by the way, and he is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. His one work of fiction, a 2005 novel titled The Winemaker’s Daughter, was described by Publisher’s Weekly as “scattered, clumsy and overearnest.”)
Plenty of people would say that crime fiction is part of the problem in today’s publishing business. They look at all the mysteries and thrillers on the bestseller lists and denounce them as garbage with no lasting value. They deplore the big advances paid to authors like James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, and David Baldaccci. Yet readers love those authors' books and buy them, literally, by the millions. Patterson often has two or three books on the bestseller lists simultaneously. Can anyone realistically expect the folks at Little, Brown to turn their backs on profits of that magnitude and concentrate on “small” books that might sell 3,000 copies each? Of course not. And to hold onto a writer like Patterson, the publisher has to plunk down a lot of money up front.
A Patterson book will earn back every cent of the advance and a lot more in profit for the publisher. An investment in such a proven commodity carries no risk. Publishers run into trouble, though, when they fork over million dollar advances for novels that don’t interest readers. It’s easy to see how it happens. A book has the elements of previous bestsellers, plus some unique attribute – it’s the same but different, just what publishers want – and several editors become convinced it will be The Next Sensation. In their determination to get it, they bid against one another until the advance reaches a ridiculous amount. Sometimes the book does well, everyone profits, and a new star is born. Often it either flops or has mediocre sales. Then the publisher is in trouble, and so is the writer.
Aside from the established stars of the genre, few crime fiction authors these days are naive enough to feel safe because they have publishing contracts. I know a lot of writers who have been dropped by their publishers in recent years, not because their series were outright failures but because they didn't “break out” and become bestsellers. Even imprints that don’t expect bestsellerdom for every author may, nevertheless, routinely discard a series after two or three books if sales don’t grow rapidly. As far as I can tell, the only people who feel bad about this are mystery writers themselves and mystery readers. Maybe Timothy Egan cares too, but I have my doubts.
Publishing is an old-fashioned business that can’t seem to catch up with the modern world. Online marketing, for example, remains largely unexplored territory for some houses. But the people who run publishing companies have recognized one sad fact about modern life: the number of people who love to read -- really READ -- and have time for it has declined drastically. For people who want a book-like product without the heavy work of thoughtful reading, they publish junk food for the mind that is quickly enjoyed and discarded. Good commercial fiction -- the category the best crime novels fall into -- is several cuts above that, but it is still primarily entertainment. A healthy market remains for commercial fiction, and that drives publishers to take insane gambles in the hope of a big payoff.
The latest round of layoffs and restructuring reduced the number of salaries publishers have to pay but apparently changed little about the way they do business. I’ve never known a time when publishing wasn’t in trouble. I probably never will. And I doubt there’s anything writers – or readers – can do to change a business that isn’t willing to fix itself.
I can’t recall a time when writers, myself included, weren’t complaining about the dire state of publishing – the difficulty of selling a book, the difficulty of staying published once you’ve broken in, the unfairness of it all.
The cries of doom have risen to fever pitch in the last week, with news of widespread layoffs and downsizing at some of the biggest publishing houses. When Timothy Egan’s column titled “Typing Without a Clue” appeared in the New York Times last Sunday, a lot of writers seized on it as the perfect expression of their own frustration with a business that chases bestsellers and spends money on books of little merit instead of nurturing real talent.
I have to admit I’m bemused when I see mystery writers praising Egan’s piece as if he has championed their own cause. While Egan raises valid questions – what can Joe the Plumber possibly have to say that warrants putting his thoughts between covers, and why would anything written by Sarah Palin be worth a $7 million advance? – I don’t think he's speaking for crime fiction writers. Like most people who rant on this subject, Egan seems angered by the lack of support for literary novels and, as he says, "extraordinary histories" and "riveting memoirs" as well as the works of foreign writers who “struggle to get past a censor’s gate.” I don't think he's upset by the difficulty of getting a new cozy mystery or police procedural published.
(Egan himself writes history, by the way, and he is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. His one work of fiction, a 2005 novel titled The Winemaker’s Daughter, was described by Publisher’s Weekly as “scattered, clumsy and overearnest.”)
Plenty of people would say that crime fiction is part of the problem in today’s publishing business. They look at all the mysteries and thrillers on the bestseller lists and denounce them as garbage with no lasting value. They deplore the big advances paid to authors like James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, and David Baldaccci. Yet readers love those authors' books and buy them, literally, by the millions. Patterson often has two or three books on the bestseller lists simultaneously. Can anyone realistically expect the folks at Little, Brown to turn their backs on profits of that magnitude and concentrate on “small” books that might sell 3,000 copies each? Of course not. And to hold onto a writer like Patterson, the publisher has to plunk down a lot of money up front.
A Patterson book will earn back every cent of the advance and a lot more in profit for the publisher. An investment in such a proven commodity carries no risk. Publishers run into trouble, though, when they fork over million dollar advances for novels that don’t interest readers. It’s easy to see how it happens. A book has the elements of previous bestsellers, plus some unique attribute – it’s the same but different, just what publishers want – and several editors become convinced it will be The Next Sensation. In their determination to get it, they bid against one another until the advance reaches a ridiculous amount. Sometimes the book does well, everyone profits, and a new star is born. Often it either flops or has mediocre sales. Then the publisher is in trouble, and so is the writer.
Aside from the established stars of the genre, few crime fiction authors these days are naive enough to feel safe because they have publishing contracts. I know a lot of writers who have been dropped by their publishers in recent years, not because their series were outright failures but because they didn't “break out” and become bestsellers. Even imprints that don’t expect bestsellerdom for every author may, nevertheless, routinely discard a series after two or three books if sales don’t grow rapidly. As far as I can tell, the only people who feel bad about this are mystery writers themselves and mystery readers. Maybe Timothy Egan cares too, but I have my doubts.
Publishing is an old-fashioned business that can’t seem to catch up with the modern world. Online marketing, for example, remains largely unexplored territory for some houses. But the people who run publishing companies have recognized one sad fact about modern life: the number of people who love to read -- really READ -- and have time for it has declined drastically. For people who want a book-like product without the heavy work of thoughtful reading, they publish junk food for the mind that is quickly enjoyed and discarded. Good commercial fiction -- the category the best crime novels fall into -- is several cuts above that, but it is still primarily entertainment. A healthy market remains for commercial fiction, and that drives publishers to take insane gambles in the hope of a big payoff.
The latest round of layoffs and restructuring reduced the number of salaries publishers have to pay but apparently changed little about the way they do business. I’ve never known a time when publishing wasn’t in trouble. I probably never will. And I doubt there’s anything writers – or readers – can do to change a business that isn’t willing to fix itself.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Don’t send a card, send a Penguin
Sharon Wildwind
What’s that thing they put at the end of medical research papers? Oh, yeah, full disclosure. Here’s my full disclosure. I am in no way connected to the Penguin Group, nor do I or this blog benefit in any way from mentioning Penguin, or penguins here. But when I read that line this morning, I just knew I had to write about sending Penguins for the holidays.
There’s the wrapping.
The mailing. (The astute among you will recognize a Canadian mail box, which, unlike it’s American counterparts, has square corners, and is painted red.)
And finally, what happens at the post office.
Today the Penguin Group USA launched what it calls Penguin 2.0. Part of that is Penguin Personalized. Apropos of the holidays, the first title offered is “A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Writings,” a collection of short stories by Charles Dickens. You write a personal inscription for each copy of the book you purchase. Penguin personalizes a copy with your inscription, and mails it for you. Holiday shopping solved.
To learn more about this service and other clever ideas that Penguin is promoting, visit their web site:
http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/whatsnext/index.html
When I took a serious look at this idea, something finally clicked in my head. I’ve read a constant stream of marketing updates, from half a dozen on-line sources, and for some time now, have assessed them intellectually, with a range of internal comments, such as,“Nice idea.” “Clever idea.” “Stupid idea.” or “Who the heck thought THAT one up?”
Today was the day that I realized I wasn’t looking at marketing as it might be in the future, but at marketing as it is today. The future has gotten here a little faster than I thought it would. And if I want to keep up, I have to start thinking about non-book tie-ins that I can use to market the books I’m writing now.
I’m not quite sure how this will work yet. Heck, I just realized how the world had changed only a few hours ago. In some way I turned a corner today. I don’t think I will every go back to thinking of a book as just a book.
-----
Marketing quotes for the week:
Here are some other marketing ideas that are already done deals.
Seven-figure deal (Dutton) for 3 digital novels: a hybrid, including filmed components and an interactive social networking site. “I want to give traditional crime novel readers a more immersive experience; [give] publishing a chance to catch up with the YouTube generation that has lost passion for reading. I personally don't have the attention economy to read a 250-page crime novel from start to finish. I realized that the way I'd like to consume a novel is to be rewarded every couple of chapters by seeing something visual that enhances the narrative.”~Anthony Zuiker, CSI creator, August 2008
Rowman & Littlefield (imprints include Scarecrow Press, AltaMira Press and Lexington Books—all scholarly presses for textbooks and social sciences), has partnered with the Online Computer Library Center’s NetLibrary and Amazon’s Kindle to make available all of its frontlist and selected backlist as e-books. The goal is to have 10,000 titles in e-book format within two years.~Jed Lyons, president and CEO of Rowman & Littlefield, October 2008
When I started at the Boulder (Colorado) Bookstore 16 years ago, I used to think of the bookstore as a glorified library where you can buy everything. Now I think of it as a glorified living room. Everything that can entertain the family is here. The definition of what we do has enlarged in order for us to stay around.~Arsen Kashkashien, head buyer and inventory manager, on Boulder’s 35th anniversary, Sept 2008
-----
All cartoons are © Sharon Wildwind and may not be reproduced or forwarded without permission.
What’s that thing they put at the end of medical research papers? Oh, yeah, full disclosure. Here’s my full disclosure. I am in no way connected to the Penguin Group, nor do I or this blog benefit in any way from mentioning Penguin, or penguins here. But when I read that line this morning, I just knew I had to write about sending Penguins for the holidays.
There’s the wrapping.
The mailing. (The astute among you will recognize a Canadian mail box, which, unlike it’s American counterparts, has square corners, and is painted red.)
And finally, what happens at the post office.
Today the Penguin Group USA launched what it calls Penguin 2.0. Part of that is Penguin Personalized. Apropos of the holidays, the first title offered is “A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Writings,” a collection of short stories by Charles Dickens. You write a personal inscription for each copy of the book you purchase. Penguin personalizes a copy with your inscription, and mails it for you. Holiday shopping solved.
To learn more about this service and other clever ideas that Penguin is promoting, visit their web site:
http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/whatsnext/index.html
When I took a serious look at this idea, something finally clicked in my head. I’ve read a constant stream of marketing updates, from half a dozen on-line sources, and for some time now, have assessed them intellectually, with a range of internal comments, such as,“Nice idea.” “Clever idea.” “Stupid idea.” or “Who the heck thought THAT one up?”
Today was the day that I realized I wasn’t looking at marketing as it might be in the future, but at marketing as it is today. The future has gotten here a little faster than I thought it would. And if I want to keep up, I have to start thinking about non-book tie-ins that I can use to market the books I’m writing now.
I’m not quite sure how this will work yet. Heck, I just realized how the world had changed only a few hours ago. In some way I turned a corner today. I don’t think I will every go back to thinking of a book as just a book.
-----
Marketing quotes for the week:
Here are some other marketing ideas that are already done deals.
Seven-figure deal (Dutton) for 3 digital novels: a hybrid, including filmed components and an interactive social networking site. “I want to give traditional crime novel readers a more immersive experience; [give] publishing a chance to catch up with the YouTube generation that has lost passion for reading. I personally don't have the attention economy to read a 250-page crime novel from start to finish. I realized that the way I'd like to consume a novel is to be rewarded every couple of chapters by seeing something visual that enhances the narrative.”~Anthony Zuiker, CSI creator, August 2008
Rowman & Littlefield (imprints include Scarecrow Press, AltaMira Press and Lexington Books—all scholarly presses for textbooks and social sciences), has partnered with the Online Computer Library Center’s NetLibrary and Amazon’s Kindle to make available all of its frontlist and selected backlist as e-books. The goal is to have 10,000 titles in e-book format within two years.~Jed Lyons, president and CEO of Rowman & Littlefield, October 2008
When I started at the Boulder (Colorado) Bookstore 16 years ago, I used to think of the bookstore as a glorified library where you can buy everything. Now I think of it as a glorified living room. Everything that can entertain the family is here. The definition of what we do has enlarged in order for us to stay around.~Arsen Kashkashien, head buyer and inventory manager, on Boulder’s 35th anniversary, Sept 2008
-----
All cartoons are © Sharon Wildwind and may not be reproduced or forwarded without permission.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Why Telephone is Funny
by Julia Buckley
Remember the game called Telephone? The one where everyone at the slumber party sat in a line, and a message which originated with the first person was whispered to each individual and the last person had to say it out loud? The humor was in the fact that the message recited by the last person was horribly garbled--or it was supposed to be. That was the joke. According to Wikipedia, the game had many other names, including "Chinese Whispers, Russian Telephone, Stille Post, Broken Telephone, Crazy Telephone, operator, grapevine, whisper down the lane and Pass It Down." It is also suggested by this online encyclopedia that "It is often invoked as a metaphor for cumulative error, especially the inaccuracies as rumours or gossip spread, or, more generally, for the unreliability of human recollection."
I was thinking about the unreliability of human recollection today, because I remembered a couple of funny stories about my sons when they were little. Children provide many "telephone" moments because they'll repeat what they think they hear, and adults will giggle over the results.
The most common sources of fun are movies and television. When my son was about five or six, he was enamored with the new movie called TOY STORY. At one point Ham, (the piggy bank character), asks Buzz Lightyear about his cool belt. Buzz says, "Well, slotted pig, it's a standard issue." What my son heard? "Well, slaughtered pig, I have standard issues."
It's interesting that often the garbled version still makes sense, in its own way. :)
When my boys watched the cartoon Zorro, the characters provided much exciting swordplay, during which the hero would yell, "En garde!" Later, my boys reeanacted this with plastic weapons, yelling "I'm God!" at each other.
In another movie, the line "Eat your heart out, Mel Gibson!" became, to my son's untested ears, "Eat your hot dog, Mel Gibson!"
When my niece was young, she had telephone moments with songs on the radio. What Jamie had always sung as "Wah Claire's Got the Doolit" turned out to be "What's Love Got To Do With It," which was a Tina Turner hit when Jamie was four.
And "My Honored Cecile" was actually The GoGos' "Our Lips Are Sealed."
But it's not just children who fall into this auditory trap--oh no! My husband had a friend who not only believed that the Eagles had a song called "Down at the Sausage Grill," but that The Beach Boys had actually penned a tune called "Hep Devonda."
My husband also had a co-worker who had a habit of mangling phrases because they made more sense to him his way. Phrases like "Do my eyes believe me?" and "It never seems to amaze me."
I've got a million of them, but I'll bet you do, too! What are some of your favorite "telephone" stories?
Whisper down the lane and share them with us. :)
Remember the game called Telephone? The one where everyone at the slumber party sat in a line, and a message which originated with the first person was whispered to each individual and the last person had to say it out loud? The humor was in the fact that the message recited by the last person was horribly garbled--or it was supposed to be. That was the joke. According to Wikipedia, the game had many other names, including "Chinese Whispers, Russian Telephone, Stille Post, Broken Telephone, Crazy Telephone, operator, grapevine, whisper down the lane and Pass It Down." It is also suggested by this online encyclopedia that "It is often invoked as a metaphor for cumulative error, especially the inaccuracies as rumours or gossip spread, or, more generally, for the unreliability of human recollection."I was thinking about the unreliability of human recollection today, because I remembered a couple of funny stories about my sons when they were little. Children provide many "telephone" moments because they'll repeat what they think they hear, and adults will giggle over the results.
The most common sources of fun are movies and television. When my son was about five or six, he was enamored with the new movie called TOY STORY. At one point Ham, (the piggy bank character), asks Buzz Lightyear about his cool belt. Buzz says, "Well, slotted pig, it's a standard issue." What my son heard? "Well, slaughtered pig, I have standard issues."
It's interesting that often the garbled version still makes sense, in its own way. :)
When my boys watched the cartoon Zorro, the characters provided much exciting swordplay, during which the hero would yell, "En garde!" Later, my boys reeanacted this with plastic weapons, yelling "I'm God!" at each other.
In another movie, the line "Eat your heart out, Mel Gibson!" became, to my son's untested ears, "Eat your hot dog, Mel Gibson!"
When my niece was young, she had telephone moments with songs on the radio. What Jamie had always sung as "Wah Claire's Got the Doolit" turned out to be "What's Love Got To Do With It," which was a Tina Turner hit when Jamie was four.
And "My Honored Cecile" was actually The GoGos' "Our Lips Are Sealed."
But it's not just children who fall into this auditory trap--oh no! My husband had a friend who not only believed that the Eagles had a song called "Down at the Sausage Grill," but that The Beach Boys had actually penned a tune called "Hep Devonda."
My husband also had a co-worker who had a habit of mangling phrases because they made more sense to him his way. Phrases like "Do my eyes believe me?" and "It never seems to amaze me."
I've got a million of them, but I'll bet you do, too! What are some of your favorite "telephone" stories?
Whisper down the lane and share them with us. :)
Saturday, December 6, 2008
The 12 Days of Christmas for Writers
Tired of dropping hints about what you’d like for Winter Solstice, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or just “because it’s winter and I’m cute?” Print the following list. Highlight your favorites. Hand it to your significant other, your kids, your mother. And if you have any other suggestions for writer gifts please share them in comments.
Four lucky readers are getting Christmas gifts from Poe's Deadly daughters:
Auntie Knickers
Lucinda
Helen K
Penny T
are the book winners from Wednesday. Please contact Sandra Parshall with your mailing information: sandraparshall@yahoo.com.
(Special thanks to Debby Ridpath Ohi—Inky Girl and Lynn Viehl—Paperback Writer on whose blogs I first saw some of these items mentioned.)
1. Books. Writers like to read as much as we like to write. (Some days we like it more.) You’ll get brownie points if you know what books we’d like to get, but ask and we’ll be happy to give you a list.
2. An Alphasmart Keyboard. They’re tough. They’re portable. They’re lightweight. They run for ages on batteries or one charge.
3. Desktop Whiteboard. This will save your writer lots of paper which will save her lots of money and the planet lots of trees. The whiteboard is fun to play with and your writer can feel virtuous while she’s using it.
4. Magazine Subscription(s). The Writer, Romantic Times Book Review, Ellery Queens Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine are just a few the writer in your life might like.
5. Dragon Naturally Speaking. Give your writer a break at the keyboard with this voice recognition software which can be trained to recognize voice and speech patterns.
6. Books on w
riting. Give some inspiration: Bird by Bird from Anne Lamott, On Writing by Stephen King, How Not to Murder Your Mystery by Chris Roerden, The Artist’s Way from Julia Cameron, Write It Down, Make it Happen by Henriette Anne Klauser.7. A massage session. Some massage therapists have portable massage chairs or tables and will come to your writer. (Warning, a good massage can be addictive.)
8. Writing tools from Levenger include planners, organizers, pens, briefcases and more. How about a note card bleacher for organizing notes, a Thai book rest, or the Lapalot lap desk for working in bed or just about anywhere else?
9. Cafepress offers a great collection of t-shirts, mugs and other fun items, including Debbie Ridpath Ohi’s Will Write for Chocolate T-shirts and mugs.
10. McPhee's action figures include Poe, Shakespeare and (my favorite) The Crazy Cat Lady—complete with six cats.
11. Chocolate. (Enough said.)
12. Time. Take the kids or the dog for the afternoon and give your writer time to write. Cook dinner, do the laundry, clean the bathroom and give your writer time to write.
Friday, December 5, 2008
The Ghost of Christmas Past?
By Lonnie Cruse
Recently hubby was shifting things around in his closet (he calls it cleaning the closet) and found a small box of old pictures.
Shuffling through, I came across an early 50's picture of a decorated Christmas tree sitting in front of the two living room corner windows in the house where I grew up. Back then the tree was always real and always covered in tinsel. My step-mom had a friend who hung each strand perfectly. I was no longer allowed to help with the tinsel once my ability to toss a large handful at the top branches was discovered.
Another picture in the box was of me holding the two foot tall doll I got for Christmas in 1952. That year I was nine, the same age my youngest grandson is now. As mom snapped the picture an unknown couple in the background walked down the sidewalk of the small motel next door to us. Both are dressed in perfect examples of early 50's fashion, except the man isn't wearing a hat. I love looking at them, wondering who they were, where they were going that long ago Christmas day in Las Vegas, Nevada. To visit friends or family? To lunch? To a casino? Moments in time.
I love mystery, but I also love reading science fiction. The ability science fiction offers us to do things we can't really do. At least not yet. I often wonder what it would be like to be able to visit the past. To step into an old photograph, into that setting, and see what's going on. Or step through an antique mirror and see the people who looked at their reflection when the mirror was new. What would that be like? What would I see? And would my being there change anything for those in the past?
One thing I've learned through watching modern day forensic programs is that killers always take something with them from the crime scene (even if they don't realize it, like a carpet fiber or a strand of hair from the victim onto their clothes) and they always leave something (carpet fibers from their own home or vehicle, their own hair strands, etc.) So wouldn't it be nearly impossible to visit the past and not leave something of ourselves or take something away, thus changing things? I dunno.
But I do know I'd love to be able to visit the past. Maybe that Christmas day in 1952 with the coveted doll in my hands, Santa having come through for me yet again. Or my wedding day? A day when my boys were little enough to sit on my lap? So many days. Maybe even a difficult day, to comfort or be comforted by a loved one?
Sigh, but then I'd likely be spending all my days in the past, entirely missing the present. And the future. Ah, maybe that's why we can't visit the past, where we know pretty much what happened? Because we need to be here, living the day? Well, it was just a thought.
May your present be full of lovely presents and your future be bright. Meanwhile, why not pull out an old album and spend an hour visiting the past? But brace yourself, your hair styles and clothing were pretty different back then.
P. S. A special Merry Christmas wish to Francie T. who lived across the street from me and who received a similar doll that year.
Recently hubby was shifting things around in his closet (he calls it cleaning the closet) and found a small box of old pictures.
Shuffling through, I came across an early 50's picture of a decorated Christmas tree sitting in front of the two living room corner windows in the house where I grew up. Back then the tree was always real and always covered in tinsel. My step-mom had a friend who hung each strand perfectly. I was no longer allowed to help with the tinsel once my ability to toss a large handful at the top branches was discovered.
Another picture in the box was of me holding the two foot tall doll I got for Christmas in 1952. That year I was nine, the same age my youngest grandson is now. As mom snapped the picture an unknown couple in the background walked down the sidewalk of the small motel next door to us. Both are dressed in perfect examples of early 50's fashion, except the man isn't wearing a hat. I love looking at them, wondering who they were, where they were going that long ago Christmas day in Las Vegas, Nevada. To visit friends or family? To lunch? To a casino? Moments in time.
I love mystery, but I also love reading science fiction. The ability science fiction offers us to do things we can't really do. At least not yet. I often wonder what it would be like to be able to visit the past. To step into an old photograph, into that setting, and see what's going on. Or step through an antique mirror and see the people who looked at their reflection when the mirror was new. What would that be like? What would I see? And would my being there change anything for those in the past?
One thing I've learned through watching modern day forensic programs is that killers always take something with them from the crime scene (even if they don't realize it, like a carpet fiber or a strand of hair from the victim onto their clothes) and they always leave something (carpet fibers from their own home or vehicle, their own hair strands, etc.) So wouldn't it be nearly impossible to visit the past and not leave something of ourselves or take something away, thus changing things? I dunno.
But I do know I'd love to be able to visit the past. Maybe that Christmas day in 1952 with the coveted doll in my hands, Santa having come through for me yet again. Or my wedding day? A day when my boys were little enough to sit on my lap? So many days. Maybe even a difficult day, to comfort or be comforted by a loved one?
Sigh, but then I'd likely be spending all my days in the past, entirely missing the present. And the future. Ah, maybe that's why we can't visit the past, where we know pretty much what happened? Because we need to be here, living the day? Well, it was just a thought.
May your present be full of lovely presents and your future be bright. Meanwhile, why not pull out an old album and spend an hour visiting the past? But brace yourself, your hair styles and clothing were pretty different back then.
P. S. A special Merry Christmas wish to Francie T. who lived across the street from me and who received a similar doll that year.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Reading and the Holidays
Elizabeth Zelvin
Holiday shopping season is upon us, and not only do books make wonderful presents (to give and to receive), but books also played a part in shaping my perceptions and expectations of the holidays. I suspect that this is true for many people.
A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned the great opening line of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women: “ ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.’” Yes, all the way back in 1870, there was no surer way to disappoint a child than not to provide Christmas presents. Thanks to Alcott’s high moral Transcendentalist principles, what the March girls actually do is quit complaining, decide to put their annual one-dollar spending money into presents for their mother instead of treats for themselves, and end up giving away their festive holiday breakfast to an impoverished immigrant family with too many children. Generations of American girls have internalized the lessons in that story.
I can’t remember the name of the 1950s children’s book in which the family had a tradition of reading Dickens’s A Christmas Carol aloud on Christmas Eve, but the idea of such a tradition has stuck with me all these years. I also remember that the youngest boy was in the choir, and there was great tension about whether he would be able to hit the high note in his solo, “Glory to God in the highest,” presumably from Handel’s Messiah. (He did.) I shouldn’t have been paying attention to Christmas at all as a kid, but my Jewish parents were so afraid we’d feel deprived if we couldn’t participate in the general fuss that we decorated what we facetiously called a “Chanukah bush” and got stockings stuffed with presents on Christmas morning. Today, I’m sure there’s an abundance of books about Jewish families celebrating Chanukah and other holidays, but I don’t remember any back then.
In my ecumenical present-day family, we celebrate both holidays. I must admit that rather than reading aloud, we watch movies made from the great books already mentioned: Alastair Sims as Scrooge in A Christmas Carol and the Gillian Armstrong version of Little Women, which my husband and I both like in spite of the the terrible miscasting of Winona Ryder as Jo. I recently learned that an old friend from college and her family read Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales aloud every year. So I know that the tradition of holiday reading does survive.
No gift list in our family is complete unless it includes at least one book. Bookstore gift certificates are also a guaranteed successful present, but I, for one, am not happy unless there’s at least one fat hardcover by a favorite mystery author that I wouldn’t have bought for myself under the tree, so I can curl up on the couch with it at some time during the long, lazy day. Books are the present of choice for my stepdaughter and her husband, who live in London, because we can order just what they want from their amazon.co.uk wish lists and have them shipped free. Talk about books I’d never order for myself! And one of the great shopping pleasures these days is buying books for my granddaughters. In the 21st century, there are children’s books about everything. On my last visit the almost-two-year-old had me read her one entitled It’s Potty Time, with separate illustrated editions for boys and girls, and it’s only one of dozens on the subject.
What books are on your holiday gift list? What books, if any, shaped your image of how holidays should be?
Holiday shopping season is upon us, and not only do books make wonderful presents (to give and to receive), but books also played a part in shaping my perceptions and expectations of the holidays. I suspect that this is true for many people.
A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned the great opening line of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women: “ ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents.’” Yes, all the way back in 1870, there was no surer way to disappoint a child than not to provide Christmas presents. Thanks to Alcott’s high moral Transcendentalist principles, what the March girls actually do is quit complaining, decide to put their annual one-dollar spending money into presents for their mother instead of treats for themselves, and end up giving away their festive holiday breakfast to an impoverished immigrant family with too many children. Generations of American girls have internalized the lessons in that story.
I can’t remember the name of the 1950s children’s book in which the family had a tradition of reading Dickens’s A Christmas Carol aloud on Christmas Eve, but the idea of such a tradition has stuck with me all these years. I also remember that the youngest boy was in the choir, and there was great tension about whether he would be able to hit the high note in his solo, “Glory to God in the highest,” presumably from Handel’s Messiah. (He did.) I shouldn’t have been paying attention to Christmas at all as a kid, but my Jewish parents were so afraid we’d feel deprived if we couldn’t participate in the general fuss that we decorated what we facetiously called a “Chanukah bush” and got stockings stuffed with presents on Christmas morning. Today, I’m sure there’s an abundance of books about Jewish families celebrating Chanukah and other holidays, but I don’t remember any back then.
In my ecumenical present-day family, we celebrate both holidays. I must admit that rather than reading aloud, we watch movies made from the great books already mentioned: Alastair Sims as Scrooge in A Christmas Carol and the Gillian Armstrong version of Little Women, which my husband and I both like in spite of the the terrible miscasting of Winona Ryder as Jo. I recently learned that an old friend from college and her family read Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales aloud every year. So I know that the tradition of holiday reading does survive.
No gift list in our family is complete unless it includes at least one book. Bookstore gift certificates are also a guaranteed successful present, but I, for one, am not happy unless there’s at least one fat hardcover by a favorite mystery author that I wouldn’t have bought for myself under the tree, so I can curl up on the couch with it at some time during the long, lazy day. Books are the present of choice for my stepdaughter and her husband, who live in London, because we can order just what they want from their amazon.co.uk wish lists and have them shipped free. Talk about books I’d never order for myself! And one of the great shopping pleasures these days is buying books for my granddaughters. In the 21st century, there are children’s books about everything. On my last visit the almost-two-year-old had me read her one entitled It’s Potty Time, with separate illustrated editions for boys and girls, and it’s only one of dozens on the subject.
What books are on your holiday gift list? What books, if any, shaped your image of how holidays should be?
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Free books!
Sandra Parshall
Maybe you’ve lost your job or expect to soon. Maybe your investments, large or small, are tanking. Maybe your kids don’t understand why they can’t have the expensive electronic playthings they want from Santa. Publishing seems to be headed into a dizzying downward spiral, too, and all over the internet, writers are begging you to buy their new books.
I understand why laying down money for the latest mystery novels might not be a top priority at the moment. But you need them, right? You can’t live without those entertaining tales of mayhem. Sometimes an engrossing book is all that stands between you and total meltdown. (I understand that too.) So I’m offering a batch of books, all of them December releases, to a few lucky readers of PDD.
Look through the list below, then tell me in the comments section which THREE books you’d like to have, in order of preference. Each winner will receive two free books, but naming a third choice will increase your chance of getting something you want. If you enjoy the books, please tell your friends about them. If you don’t win, but a book sounds like just your sort of thing, stop in a book store and treat yourself. You deserve it, don’t you?
DEVIL MAY RIDE, A Ghost Dusters Mystery, by Wendy Roberts – Second in the paranormal mystery series featuring Sadie Novak, a professional crime scene cleaner and amateur medium. Sadie and her sexy partner, Zack, are cleaning up a meth lab when Sadie comes face to face with an evil spirit unlike anything she’s seen before.
DYING FOR DINNER by Miranda Bliss – Annie is leaving her bank job to work full-time as manager of her boyfriend’s restaurant in Old Town Alexandria, VA. But the first day of the rest of her life is the last day of someone else’s, and Annie ends up right in the middle of the excitement. Includes recipes.
DEFENDING ANGELS, A Beaufort & Company Mystery, by Mary Stanton – Ah, Savannah, a city overflowing with charm and ghosts. Literally. While Brianna Winston-Beaufort waits out the renovations on her law office, she rents space in the middle of an all-murderers cemetery, and before long, she’s defending a client in the loftiest venue of all, the Celestial Court. Great setting and a charming heroine.
DYING BY THE SWORD, A Musketeers Mystery, by Sarah D’Almeida – The swashbuckling trio set out to prove Porthos’s servant innocent of killing an armorer, but their sleuthing leads to conflict with Cardinal Richelieu, who is investigating a plot against King Louis XIII. Excellent historical detail.
DEAD MEN DON’T CROCHET by Betty Hechtman – In this followup to Hooked on Murder, Molly Pink and the boisterous Tarzana Hookers join forces to clear one of their members of murdering a snarky yarn shop owner (who probably deserved what she got). Recipe and crochet pattern included.
MR. MONK IS MISERABLE by Lee Goldberg – Natalie serves as Monk’s Dr. Watson, assisting the brilliant detective and telling the stories in Goldberg’s entertaining series of original novels based on the television program. In the latest, the phobic Monk astonishes Natalie by deciding to visit the catacombs of Paris. Among the ancient skeletons, Monk’s sharp eye spots a skull that’s not so old – and bears evidence of murder. A San Francisco connection brings Captain Stottlemeyer and Lt. Disher into the action.
HAIL TO THE CHEF, A White House Chef Mystery, by Julie Hyzy – This series was an instant hit with its first entry, State of the Onion, and the second is equally entertaining. White House Chef Ollie Parsons has plenty to do with the holidays coming up and the First Lady meddling in her romantic life, but she adds murder to her plate when the First Lady’s nephew dies in suspicious circumstances. Recipes for a complete Presidential meal are included, along with lots of details about the inner workings of the nation's First Kitchen.
MRS. MALLORY AND A TIME TO DIE by Hazel Holt – When the quiet English village of Taviscombe is shaken by a series of shocking deaths, Sheila Malory finds herself back in sleuthing mode. Publishers Weekly calls the Mrs. Malory series “the very model of the modern mystery cozy.”
Tell me your choices, and check the end of the comments thread on Thursday to find out if you won!
Maybe you’ve lost your job or expect to soon. Maybe your investments, large or small, are tanking. Maybe your kids don’t understand why they can’t have the expensive electronic playthings they want from Santa. Publishing seems to be headed into a dizzying downward spiral, too, and all over the internet, writers are begging you to buy their new books.
I understand why laying down money for the latest mystery novels might not be a top priority at the moment. But you need them, right? You can’t live without those entertaining tales of mayhem. Sometimes an engrossing book is all that stands between you and total meltdown. (I understand that too.) So I’m offering a batch of books, all of them December releases, to a few lucky readers of PDD.
Look through the list below, then tell me in the comments section which THREE books you’d like to have, in order of preference. Each winner will receive two free books, but naming a third choice will increase your chance of getting something you want. If you enjoy the books, please tell your friends about them. If you don’t win, but a book sounds like just your sort of thing, stop in a book store and treat yourself. You deserve it, don’t you?
DEVIL MAY RIDE, A Ghost Dusters Mystery, by Wendy Roberts – Second in the paranormal mystery series featuring Sadie Novak, a professional crime scene cleaner and amateur medium. Sadie and her sexy partner, Zack, are cleaning up a meth lab when Sadie comes face to face with an evil spirit unlike anything she’s seen before.
DYING FOR DINNER by Miranda Bliss – Annie is leaving her bank job to work full-time as manager of her boyfriend’s restaurant in Old Town Alexandria, VA. But the first day of the rest of her life is the last day of someone else’s, and Annie ends up right in the middle of the excitement. Includes recipes.
DEFENDING ANGELS, A Beaufort & Company Mystery, by Mary Stanton – Ah, Savannah, a city overflowing with charm and ghosts. Literally. While Brianna Winston-Beaufort waits out the renovations on her law office, she rents space in the middle of an all-murderers cemetery, and before long, she’s defending a client in the loftiest venue of all, the Celestial Court. Great setting and a charming heroine.
DYING BY THE SWORD, A Musketeers Mystery, by Sarah D’Almeida – The swashbuckling trio set out to prove Porthos’s servant innocent of killing an armorer, but their sleuthing leads to conflict with Cardinal Richelieu, who is investigating a plot against King Louis XIII. Excellent historical detail.
DEAD MEN DON’T CROCHET by Betty Hechtman – In this followup to Hooked on Murder, Molly Pink and the boisterous Tarzana Hookers join forces to clear one of their members of murdering a snarky yarn shop owner (who probably deserved what she got). Recipe and crochet pattern included.
MR. MONK IS MISERABLE by Lee Goldberg – Natalie serves as Monk’s Dr. Watson, assisting the brilliant detective and telling the stories in Goldberg’s entertaining series of original novels based on the television program. In the latest, the phobic Monk astonishes Natalie by deciding to visit the catacombs of Paris. Among the ancient skeletons, Monk’s sharp eye spots a skull that’s not so old – and bears evidence of murder. A San Francisco connection brings Captain Stottlemeyer and Lt. Disher into the action.
HAIL TO THE CHEF, A White House Chef Mystery, by Julie Hyzy – This series was an instant hit with its first entry, State of the Onion, and the second is equally entertaining. White House Chef Ollie Parsons has plenty to do with the holidays coming up and the First Lady meddling in her romantic life, but she adds murder to her plate when the First Lady’s nephew dies in suspicious circumstances. Recipes for a complete Presidential meal are included, along with lots of details about the inner workings of the nation's First Kitchen.
MRS. MALLORY AND A TIME TO DIE by Hazel Holt – When the quiet English village of Taviscombe is shaken by a series of shocking deaths, Sheila Malory finds herself back in sleuthing mode. Publishers Weekly calls the Mrs. Malory series “the very model of the modern mystery cozy.”
Tell me your choices, and check the end of the comments thread on Thursday to find out if you won!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Triangulation
Sharon Wildwind
Triangulation pinpoints a location by taking readings from two other points. The object you’re looking for is located where those two readings converge.
Educators have known for a long time that human beings have three primary ways of learning: visual (seeing), aural (hearing), and kinesthetic (movement or touch). Though there are group norms, within that group individuals may have a strong preference and ability for learning in a way unlike the rest of the group.
Roughly 85% of people who live in the U.S. and Canada learn most effectively by seeing, then doing. This is the old demonstration-and-return-demonstration, or the see one—do one—teach one methods that were both popular when I was in school. For most North Americans isolated aural learning is the least effective way to learn.
Many years ago, I worked with a woman who learned almost 100% aurally, and her way of doing things was marvelous to watch. She came to staff meetings without any note-taking material. When the meeting started, she put her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes. The only time she opened her eyes was when she spoke. At the end of a two-hour meeting, she could recite what each person in the room had said about any agenda item.
She confessed during a coffee-break that she’d hated school, and had a lot of trouble until she was placed with a special education teacher who allowed her to listen to a lesson being read rather than reading the lesson herself.
John Barth, an American novelist and short-story writer, has suggested that sight is built into written fiction. He said that readers can fill in sight details better than they can all the other senses because sight is built into language. I suspect, that predominance of visual learning among North Americans helps reinforce this. Who knows, maybe it even causes it.
In any case, consider this sentence: The boy shoved his canoe into the lake.
The majority of readers know immediately what a boy, a canoe, and a lake look like. If “The boy shoved his canoe into the lake” was the first sentence in a story, a reader could still put the picture together and “see” what was happening in the story.
She might discover in the next paragraph that the boy was Chinese-Canadian, that the canoe was painted bright blue, and that the lake in question was in Algonquin Provincial Park, which is about 200 kilometers north of Toronto, Ontario. Details change but images of a boy shoving the end of a canoe, the canoe picking up speed as it entered the water, and the boy hoping in before the canoe left the beach, would remain essentially unchanged.
I learned John Barth’s theory in a writing workshop taught by the thriller writer, David Morrell. He went on to explain that a common mistake writers make is to interpret that the adage Show, Don’t Tell indicates a need to load a story with sight details.
Morrell says it’s just the opposite. Loading the reader with sight details only tells the reader about the place where she is already standing. As in geographical triangulation, what she needs is two different measurements, which will come together at another point. Give the reader two other sensory inputs chosen from smell, taste, sound, or tactile experience. With those two additional sensory details, the reader can triangulate on sight and build the scene in her mind.
After the workshop, I came home, picked five mysteries, all authors I like, and opened the books at random. What I was looking for was enhanced description, not just the boy-canoe-lake use of words, but where the writer tried to emphasize a detail through the use of one of the five senses. Here’s how the score card came out:
Mystery #1—read 9 paragraphs and found 10 sight details, 1 smell
Mystery #2—read 3 paragraphs and found 9 sight details, 1 sound, 1 tactile
Mystery #3—read 5 paragraphs and found 8 sight details, 1 sound, 1 tactile
Mystery #4—read 7 paragraphs and found 1 sight detail, 1 sound, 6 taste (This scene took place in a restaurant, so this may have skewed the taste emphasis.)
Mystery #5—read 2 paragraphs and found 1 sight detail, 3 sound, 6 tactile (This was my favorite passage. In fact, I got so lost in it that I almost forgot why I was doing the exercise and just kept reading.)
Totals: 26 paragraphs contained 29 sight details and 21 for all other senses combined (8 tactile, 6 sounds, 6 tastes, 1 smell) and the one I liked best had the fewest number of visual references compared to sound and touch.
So here is our challenge for the week: Try writing a few paragraphs using two senses—other than sight—to convey vivid details.
-----
Writing quote for the week:
~It can be argued that movies are primarily visual, but that books should be multi-sensory.
David Morrell, Hemingway scholar, writing teacher, fantasy writer and creator of Rambo
Triangulation pinpoints a location by taking readings from two other points. The object you’re looking for is located where those two readings converge.
Educators have known for a long time that human beings have three primary ways of learning: visual (seeing), aural (hearing), and kinesthetic (movement or touch). Though there are group norms, within that group individuals may have a strong preference and ability for learning in a way unlike the rest of the group.
Roughly 85% of people who live in the U.S. and Canada learn most effectively by seeing, then doing. This is the old demonstration-and-return-demonstration, or the see one—do one—teach one methods that were both popular when I was in school. For most North Americans isolated aural learning is the least effective way to learn.
Many years ago, I worked with a woman who learned almost 100% aurally, and her way of doing things was marvelous to watch. She came to staff meetings without any note-taking material. When the meeting started, she put her hands in her lap, and closed her eyes. The only time she opened her eyes was when she spoke. At the end of a two-hour meeting, she could recite what each person in the room had said about any agenda item.
She confessed during a coffee-break that she’d hated school, and had a lot of trouble until she was placed with a special education teacher who allowed her to listen to a lesson being read rather than reading the lesson herself.
John Barth, an American novelist and short-story writer, has suggested that sight is built into written fiction. He said that readers can fill in sight details better than they can all the other senses because sight is built into language. I suspect, that predominance of visual learning among North Americans helps reinforce this. Who knows, maybe it even causes it.
In any case, consider this sentence: The boy shoved his canoe into the lake.
The majority of readers know immediately what a boy, a canoe, and a lake look like. If “The boy shoved his canoe into the lake” was the first sentence in a story, a reader could still put the picture together and “see” what was happening in the story.
She might discover in the next paragraph that the boy was Chinese-Canadian, that the canoe was painted bright blue, and that the lake in question was in Algonquin Provincial Park, which is about 200 kilometers north of Toronto, Ontario. Details change but images of a boy shoving the end of a canoe, the canoe picking up speed as it entered the water, and the boy hoping in before the canoe left the beach, would remain essentially unchanged.
I learned John Barth’s theory in a writing workshop taught by the thriller writer, David Morrell. He went on to explain that a common mistake writers make is to interpret that the adage Show, Don’t Tell indicates a need to load a story with sight details.
Morrell says it’s just the opposite. Loading the reader with sight details only tells the reader about the place where she is already standing. As in geographical triangulation, what she needs is two different measurements, which will come together at another point. Give the reader two other sensory inputs chosen from smell, taste, sound, or tactile experience. With those two additional sensory details, the reader can triangulate on sight and build the scene in her mind.
After the workshop, I came home, picked five mysteries, all authors I like, and opened the books at random. What I was looking for was enhanced description, not just the boy-canoe-lake use of words, but where the writer tried to emphasize a detail through the use of one of the five senses. Here’s how the score card came out:
Mystery #1—read 9 paragraphs and found 10 sight details, 1 smell
Mystery #2—read 3 paragraphs and found 9 sight details, 1 sound, 1 tactile
Mystery #3—read 5 paragraphs and found 8 sight details, 1 sound, 1 tactile
Mystery #4—read 7 paragraphs and found 1 sight detail, 1 sound, 6 taste (This scene took place in a restaurant, so this may have skewed the taste emphasis.)
Mystery #5—read 2 paragraphs and found 1 sight detail, 3 sound, 6 tactile (This was my favorite passage. In fact, I got so lost in it that I almost forgot why I was doing the exercise and just kept reading.)
Totals: 26 paragraphs contained 29 sight details and 21 for all other senses combined (8 tactile, 6 sounds, 6 tastes, 1 smell) and the one I liked best had the fewest number of visual references compared to sound and touch.
So here is our challenge for the week: Try writing a few paragraphs using two senses—other than sight—to convey vivid details.
-----
Writing quote for the week:
~It can be argued that movies are primarily visual, but that books should be multi-sensory.
David Morrell, Hemingway scholar, writing teacher, fantasy writer and creator of Rambo
Monday, December 1, 2008
A Holiday Burglary
by Julia Buckley
Last Tuesday someone broke into my sister's house. They were alerted to the fact that the place was empty, my sister thinks, by the UPS package which was left on her front porch without a signature (something UPS had said they would not do). That lonely package may well have made the thieves scanning her street think that her house was a likely target. They broke her basement window and climbed up her basement stairs. The door was locked, so it took them a while to break that down. Once they got through that, they were in her kitchen. They spent no time there. They went straight to the only bedroom on the main floor--my nephew's bedroom. He is thirteen, and they liked what they found in his room. They took his backpack and used it as a vessel to carry the things they wanted.
His IPOD, his camera, his money--all of those went into the backpack, and then the thieves moved up the stairs to the other bedrooms. They went into the room where my nieces sleep. My nieces, fourteen and ten: not much in their room that the thieves wanted, but there was plenty in the bedroom of my sister and her husband. Money, of course--just change kept in a little jar. My sister's jewelry--all of it. Years and years of gifts from her husband, her children, and her kindergarten students: necklaces and bracelets, rings and pins, all of them given with love--were dumped into the backpack. Because my sister recently lost a significant amount of weight through sheer self-discipline (and Weight Watchers), her engagement ring, now too big for her, sat on her dresser. They took that, too.
While the thieves roamed their house, a neighbor thought things didn't look quite right. They called the police. It took the police a while to get there, but when they did, they noticed a suspicious pair of men walking down the street. One of them had a green backpack. The police went after them, but the one with the backpack got away. They couldn't hold the other one, who claimed to know nothing. Later they also stopped what they believed to be a driver and a lookout--but they had no evidence on them, either.
The police returned to my sister's house and went inside. Secured on their refrigerator, with magnets, are "Mom and Dad's numbers at work." My brother-in-law happens to be a police officer; they called him.
This is the second time my sister's house has been burglarized. It may not be the last. They are in the city and their home is right by an El station. I asked my brother-in-law, when he told me this story at our Thanksgiving gathering, if he wasn't angry. If he didn't feel violated that these people took his things, that they were in his children's rooms. He shrugged. "Naw. Not this time," he said. "We just told the kids that people who do things like this must need it more than we do, and we should pray for them, and be grateful that we have a house someone else thinks is worth robbing."
I stared at him in disbelief. In this respect I am very different from my sister and her family. They are gentle and forgiving; I believe I would be angry and frustrated. I would spend long hours hating what had been done and resenting the anonymous thieves. I would feel insecure and check all of my locks and chafe at the frailty of glass windows. And yet I know that people who are determined to steal will steal, and that's a frightening thought.
My sister's worst moment came when she realized that her daughters, who arrive home before she does, might have walked in on this, on them, if no one had called the police. That makes her worry about the future; she is thinking of asking her boss to change her hours so that she can be home to welcome her children. She doesn't know if he will.
Meanwhile her husband has been visiting some pawnshops, telling them that he'd like to know if any of them get his wife's engagement ring.
This whole thing upset me and made me angry on my sister's behalf; but their calmness in the face of loss has also inspired me. Ultimately if they can accept it, I can. But I might want to help them buy some bars for their windows . . . .
Last Tuesday someone broke into my sister's house. They were alerted to the fact that the place was empty, my sister thinks, by the UPS package which was left on her front porch without a signature (something UPS had said they would not do). That lonely package may well have made the thieves scanning her street think that her house was a likely target. They broke her basement window and climbed up her basement stairs. The door was locked, so it took them a while to break that down. Once they got through that, they were in her kitchen. They spent no time there. They went straight to the only bedroom on the main floor--my nephew's bedroom. He is thirteen, and they liked what they found in his room. They took his backpack and used it as a vessel to carry the things they wanted.His IPOD, his camera, his money--all of those went into the backpack, and then the thieves moved up the stairs to the other bedrooms. They went into the room where my nieces sleep. My nieces, fourteen and ten: not much in their room that the thieves wanted, but there was plenty in the bedroom of my sister and her husband. Money, of course--just change kept in a little jar. My sister's jewelry--all of it. Years and years of gifts from her husband, her children, and her kindergarten students: necklaces and bracelets, rings and pins, all of them given with love--were dumped into the backpack. Because my sister recently lost a significant amount of weight through sheer self-discipline (and Weight Watchers), her engagement ring, now too big for her, sat on her dresser. They took that, too.
While the thieves roamed their house, a neighbor thought things didn't look quite right. They called the police. It took the police a while to get there, but when they did, they noticed a suspicious pair of men walking down the street. One of them had a green backpack. The police went after them, but the one with the backpack got away. They couldn't hold the other one, who claimed to know nothing. Later they also stopped what they believed to be a driver and a lookout--but they had no evidence on them, either.
The police returned to my sister's house and went inside. Secured on their refrigerator, with magnets, are "Mom and Dad's numbers at work." My brother-in-law happens to be a police officer; they called him.
This is the second time my sister's house has been burglarized. It may not be the last. They are in the city and their home is right by an El station. I asked my brother-in-law, when he told me this story at our Thanksgiving gathering, if he wasn't angry. If he didn't feel violated that these people took his things, that they were in his children's rooms. He shrugged. "Naw. Not this time," he said. "We just told the kids that people who do things like this must need it more than we do, and we should pray for them, and be grateful that we have a house someone else thinks is worth robbing."
I stared at him in disbelief. In this respect I am very different from my sister and her family. They are gentle and forgiving; I believe I would be angry and frustrated. I would spend long hours hating what had been done and resenting the anonymous thieves. I would feel insecure and check all of my locks and chafe at the frailty of glass windows. And yet I know that people who are determined to steal will steal, and that's a frightening thought.
My sister's worst moment came when she realized that her daughters, who arrive home before she does, might have walked in on this, on them, if no one had called the police. That makes her worry about the future; she is thinking of asking her boss to change her hours so that she can be home to welcome her children. She doesn't know if he will.
Meanwhile her husband has been visiting some pawnshops, telling them that he'd like to know if any of them get his wife's engagement ring.
This whole thing upset me and made me angry on my sister's behalf; but their calmness in the face of loss has also inspired me. Ultimately if they can accept it, I can. But I might want to help them buy some bars for their windows . . . .
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