I’ll be a part of a Halloween panel discussion on the Horror and Thriller genres with fellow members of the Liar’s Club, Gregory Frost, Kelly Simmons, Jonathan Maberry and Ed Petit at Brandywine Hundred Library Wilmington DE, Saturday, Nov 1 Noon – 2.
Should be a lot of fun.
The podcast of my short story Bad Debt went live this week on Seth Harwood’s excellent crime fiction podcasting site, Crimewav.com. Very interesting experience.
This is my second short-story-podcasting experience; my story Grounders was podcast on www.variantfrequencies.com earlier in the year. But this was the first time I read the story myself.
Now, I am not one of those writers who hates the sound of their own voice. (I’m more like the talking donkey in Shrek; the trick is getting me to shut up). I kind of enjoy reading in public, and while I’m doing it, I think I’m doing a good job. But as it turns out, listening to a recording of it is torture.
It also turns out, the recording process can be a little more torturous than it might appear, as well.
Seth was great, sending lots of encouragement, along with the recording equipment and tips on how to use it, like putting up blankets to deaden the room, reading just slower than you think sounds natural, and printing the story single-spaced with tiny margins, to minimize page-turning sounds.
I set aside two days when I would have the house to myself for much of the day.
I put up the blankets, like Seth suggested, but I figured I could eliminate the page-turning noises completely by just reading from my computer screen and scrolling down with my touch pad.
Before I started recording, I read through the story from start to finish, all thirty pages, and it went perfectly. Of course it did.
Then I pressed record.
The first take was way too fast. The second take was interrupted by a loud request for puppy attention (the puppy accepted a bribe of a nice chewy pig ear). The third take, and the rest of the day, were occupied with a massive line of deafening thunderstorms.
Oh, well, that’s why there’s another day.
Day two began perfectly. Sent the boy to school, gave the puppy another dried body-part to chew, and off I went. In the middle of the first take — three pages after the part of the story that contained sirens — came the actual sirens, all sorts of them. (Apparently, one of my neighbors was experiencing some horrible tragedy involving police, fire, and ambulance – why, I asked, do these things always happen to me?).
Finally, just before I had to go meet my son off the school bus, I got through a great take – perfect tempo, very expressive, just a few flubs, no interruptions. If only the memory card hadn’t run out of room three pages into it.
Damn.
The next afternoon, I managed to squeeze in a couple of hours for two more takes, and they seemed fine …until I played them back and realized that the reason you can’t read off your computer screen is that the fan sounds like a 727 taxiing on the runway.
So, I met my son off the school bus and made a deal with him: “Yes, you can have a friend over, but you have to play in the basement or in the back yard, and you cannot disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”
Well, I got off two complete takes, maybe a little slow, definitely a little tired, a few more flubs than I would have liked, but finished and without interruption. Only later did I find out there had indeed been an emergency: a potato chip emergency, as in, my son came up to the third floor while I was recording to ask if he could have some potato chips.
I’m not sure if it was the F-bombs falling like rain or the growled threats of physical violence, but he heard me reading something that made him rethink the whole potato chip question. He ran back downstairs and didn’t say a word about it, at least not to me. I heard about it after he told my wife. At least that explained why he was looking at me so weird.
Anyway, if you get a chance to listen to Bad Debt at Crimewav.com, I hope you enjoy it, and as for the quality of the reading, well, you should have heard the one that got away.
I like Google. It makes my life easier and gives me cool and useful tools, like Google Earth. Every now and then, Google does something vaguely icky, like censoring search results for repressive regimes, but my overall impression of Google is mostly positive. I was a little leery about Google’s “search history” feature, although not enough to deactivate it or delete the results (what can I say.. it’s handy). But, I’m always looking forward to their next big thing.
Now, though, it seems Google’s newest big thing, Google Chrome, comes with an End Use License Agreement (EULA) giving Google a claim to your soul that the devil himself would envy. (in case you don’t know, a EULA is that thing you click “I Accept” without reading when you load software.)
While graciously allowing that “You retain copyright and any other rights you already hold in Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services,” the agreement goes on to state that “By submitting, posting or displaying the content you give Google a perpetual, irrevocable, worldwide, royalty-free, and non-exclusive license to reproduce, adapt, modify, translate, publish, publicly perform, publicly display and distribute any Content which you submit, post or display on or through, the Services.”
Yikes.
Kind of makes Microsoft seem warm and fuzzy.
Google is backing off a bit, now, saying it was a mistake and they will reword their End Use License Agreement, but I think I’ll be just fine without Chrome in my software arsenal. What really worries me is what I’ve agreed to with all these other “I accept” buttons I’ve been clicking without reading.
Like many authors, I feel an emotional attachment to most of the characters in my books. I’m sure Kathy Reichs feels an attachment to Tempe Brennan, and Patricia Cornwell does to Kay Scarpetta. It happens with stand-alones, but I think it happens even more when you write a series. You spend a lot of time with your characters. You see them grow and change. So I wasn’t surprised that I became attached to Madison Cross and the other characters in my books.
One thing that did surprise me was how attached I have become to the crime scenes in my books. Although parts of each book take place in fictional locales, most of the action takes place in Philadelphia, and most of the crimes take place in real places. Whether it’s the University of Pennsylvania, St. Peter’s churchyard, the Schuylkill Expressway, or Thirtieth Street Station, I’ve been dropping bodies all over this town. With Body Trace, Blood Poison and Freezer Burn, I have three books out now, and I find that as I’m driving around the city, I’m usually not far from the scene of some horrendous death of my own invention. Maybe I’m a sick pup, but this usually makes me smile.
Part of the attachment to these settings is probably formed while researching the books. If you’re writing about a real place, you can’t fudge the details. If it’s a location where you’ve never been, you have to visit it and study it, and it’s exciting discovering and exploring someplace new in the city where you’ve lived all your life. Much more likely, it’s a place you’ve been to hundreds of times before, but when you write about it, you find yourself looking at it and getting to know it in a totally new way.
This is true to a lesser extent with the other settings in the book, as well — a chase through Northern Liberties, a funeral in Manayunk or just a quiet conversation at Silk City Diner. All of these places become a part of you when they become a part of your books.
But with the setting of a death scene, it’s different.
I thought maybe the locations were emotional surrogates for the unfortunate characters lying dead on the ground. Like I said, I get attached to most of my characters. The murder victims are usually dead before I meet them. But while I don’t get to know them like the other characters, they do have back stories and histories with plenty of details, even if that’s not usually included in the book. But then again, I do get to know some of them before killing them off late in the book. Could it be that since I know what fate awaits them, I subconsciously try not to get too attached?
Nah, that’s ridiculous; some of the dead characters are among my favorites. In fact, I think there should be a subgenre of zombie books about all the dead literary characters who were too much fun to die. You could kill them all over again (it’s easy — you just have to go for the brain).
Maybe it’s a combination of all of these things, plus that fact that while writing can be hard work, writing crime scenes and murder and carnage never is. That’s just fun. And we all remember fondly the places where we have fun.
Either that or I really am a sick pup.
Just got great news from Jonathan Maberry that his recently suspended monthly writers’ coffeehouse is resuming. If you’re a writer and you live anywhere near Doylestown, you should make an effort at some point to attend one of these. It usually attracts a wonderful group of writers from across genres, disciplines and levels of success, from absolute beginners to bestsellers. It is an open discussion (with coffee) loosely moderated by Maberry and greatly enhanced by his vast industry knowledge. Here’s the announcement Jonathan Maberry sent out:
The Writers Coffeehouse is BACK!
Come and join us on Sunday, August 10, from noon to 3pm at the Bucks County Coffeehouse in Doylestown PA for a free networking session.
It’s a bunch of writers sitting around talking about writing…with coffee.
No agenda…just chat about the latest trends in the industry, about markets, about pitching and selling, about frustration, about keeping the inner fires alight, about dealing with our families, about how damn tough it is to make it as a writer at the best of times and what writers can do to stay afloat in these troubled economic waters.
This is stuff that writers can’t really talk about with someone who isn’t a writer. Writers get other writers: they’re of a species.
We used to hold these coffeehouses at the Writers Corner USA, but with that closing we moved to a nice comfy new home at Bucks County Coffee.
Now we’re back and everyone is pretty jazzed that there’s at least one place each month where they can go and be themselves around other people who understand them: WRITERS.
No previous publishing experience necessary…the Writers Coffeehouse attracts everyone from absolute beginner to award-winners and bestsellers. We’re all writers.
So come on out and join us. This will be a monthly event. Grab a cup of coffee and head on downstairs to the Conference Room.
See you Sunday.
-Jonathan Maberry
For more information, drop me a line at jonathan_maberry@ yahoo.com
Bucks County Coffee Company
22 N. Main Street
Doylestown, PA 18901
(215) 345-0795
http://www.buckscountycoffee.com/
Click here for directions
Crime is wrong. I know that. And so is spam, even the non-criminal variety (unless it’s me, shamelessly promoting my next book, like Freezer Burn, which comes out June 3, 2008 from Penguin Books). But every now and then, a piece of scam-spam comes along that is so wrong, it just feels right. In this case, I am talking about an e-mail I received with the subject heading:
SCAM VICTIMS REIMBURSEMENTS PROGRAMME
which was sent, faithfully, from
GEORGE OLUMIDE,
Processing/Transfer Officer,
The missive runs 545 words and is one of the finest examples of free-form Nigerian bank scam prose I have so far encountered, but more important is the scam itself: a solicitation to previous victims of Nigerian bank scams, offering to reimburse them for their losses. All victims need do is hand over the same information they handed over when they got taken the first time. And they will be sent $150,000.
They are self-selecting a for people whose gullibility has already been demonstrated. It’s downright elegant.
Could anybody really fall for it twice? I think it’s a legitimate question, and apparently, so does “George Olumide.” Looking around at the state of the world, I have to think the answer is probably yes.
And frankly, if “Mr. Olumide” manages to get any money from this particular scam, I say let him keep it.
I just checked out the new podcast of my short-story Grounders on Variant Frequencies and I think it’s pretty cool. You can judge for yourself if the story is any good, but the people at Variant Frequencies did a heck of a job producing it, and Thomas “cmdln” Gideon did a great job reading it.
I first started talking about podcasting the story with Seth Harwood a couple of months ago. Seth writes and podcasts the Jack Palms crime series, including the recently published and (deservedly) much buzzed-about first in the series, Jack Wakes Up. Seth does the reading himself on his podcasts. He does a hell of a job and he makes it sound easy. When we first discussed podcasting Grounders, Seth told me to practice reading it.
Now, I have always thought I did a pretty good job of reading my work (and I undeniably kill reading Dr. Seuss), but as I sat at my dinner table, reading my story aloud to myself, it sounded lame and flat and terrible. Luckily, Seth forwarded the story to Rick Stringer at Variant Frequencies, and Rick agreed to produce it for podcast, which meant someone else would be reading it. Thank god.
Rick tapped Thomas to read it, a great fit not only because of his talent as a reader, but also because of his extensive background in computing and his excellent blog, Command Line, both of which are relevant to the story itself. Hearing his reading brought home how much difference a great reader can make.
I was thinking about this the other night at the Tritone Bar in Philly, at the first night of Noir at the Bar, a new monthly event put together by Peter Rovosky. Duane Swierczynski, author of the crazed and amazing Severance Package among other excellent works, was the featured guest (I’ll be doing the second Noir at the Bar, on July 6). Duane is an excellent public speaker, but adamant about not reading in public (he very well might need corrective lenses, but we don’t know because he won’t even read an eye chart out loud). The program that night had two parts: an interview by Duane’s friend (and mine) book critic Ed Pettit (a.k.a. The Philly Poe Guy); and a reading of the first chapter of Severance Package by Ed’s wife, Kate, who is an actor. I’ve been to plenty of author readings, and I’ve enjoyed them immensely, but there is a big difference listening to a trained actor up there, inflecting, intoning, doing all those actor-ly things, and really doing justice to what was on the page. Duane’s book is great, but Kate’s reading made it even better.
the writing that you would never have noticed reading it quietly, or reading it aloud yourself.
I’m thinking of asking Kate or Thomas to come with me next time I get my eyes checked. I can hear it now, a voice rich with emotion and meaning, reading:
E
DG
KXBL
HVWXP
We all know that in order to get published these days, agents are pretty necessary. Occasionally, you hear of people getting published without them, but you hear of people winning the lottery, too.
While a publisher probably won’t give you a good look if you don’t have an agent, they might still give you a look. Unfortunately, that’s not always a good thing.
Say you shop your manuscript to all the publishers you can find and get rejected because you’re stuck in the slush pile. If you later get an agent, one of the first things that agent will likely request is a list of publishers to whom you have already submitted your work. Since most agents will not submit something to a publisher who has already rejected it, you could find yourself with a great agent, but no publishers to whom that agent can submit your manuscript.
So how do you get an agent?
Well, if your uncle is an agent, bingo; ask him to represent you. If you have friends with agents, ask for a referral. (Now is as good a time as any to do away with any last vestigial traces of shame; it will only get in the way later.) But if your uncle isn’t an agent, you might have to look elsewhere.
Some people think you should always aim high; approach the biggest agents around and maybe you’ll find a powerhouse to rep you. That might work, and if you do get a powerhouse agent, congratulations (although it is possible to sign with an agent so big that you are not on their radar and you end up neglected).
But if that doesn’t work for you, keep in mind that one of the most important characteristics in an agent is that the agent is actually open to representing new writers, or even actively seeking them. Otherwise, they probably will not even consider you. If you can find an agent who is actively looking for writers to represent, you have found an agent who is much more likely to read your manuscript, and much more likely to consider representing you.
So how do you find such open-minded agents? Books like the Guide to Literary Agents, have lists of agents who indicate they are open to new writers or are actively looking, but since a year or more has probably passed between the time the agents fill out their questionnaires and when the book comes out, those agents will very likely have filled up. The strategy I found was to try to find an agent in a state of transition: newly hired, newly promoted, newly independent, etc.
Publishers Marketplace is a great source of personnel news, both the website and the e-mail, Publishers Lunch. Publishers Weekly also has a good website, although you need a subscription. It ain’t cheap, but it gives you access to their archives. If you subscribe, you can search the recent archives, maybe a year or so, and read all their personnel news columns. These days, new sources of information are popping up all the time, and you can use them to find agents who will be as happy to hear from you as you are to contact them.
And if all else fails, maybe you can talk your uncle into changing careers.
