MONKEY WITH A PEN

A MERMAN ATE MY HOMEWORK

2012-01-27T08:42:00.002-09:30

A couple of months ago I sent in an application to Mermaid Cottages, Tybee Island, Georgia. They were offering free visits to writers in exchange for a short story set on Tybee Island, preferably in the writer's assigned cottage. I've been here for two days and I'm loving it. And I'm dreading going home. I have to make this a yearly thing regardless of how it comes about. Meaning I'm going to start saving for next year. Maybe open a savings account just for next year's trip.

I've been obsessed with Georgia for years, and especially obsessed with the Savannah area. I've talked of moving here. I doubt that will ever happen, but I want to start visiting on a yearly basis. This is my 5th time to the area, and it always feels a bit like coming home.

I had a good idea for a short story, but it was horror and I didn't feel that would be a good advertisement for Mermaid Cottages, so I'm working on a fantasy.
Temperature: 70

The Clarity of Night

2012-01-20T06:16:00.001-09:30

On January 11 I sat down with Jason Evans of The Clarity of Night and we talked about The Orchard over a glass of wine. I really think Jason's take on the book was the most interesting part of the conversation. He brought up a lot of insightful observations. I've known Jason for many years. Eight? We met back in the glory days of blogging. I miss those days, the days before Twitter and Facebook. But anyhoo, here is the interview. Thank you, Jason!

CLARITY OF NIGHT INTERVIEW

By the way, I temporarily removed my last post. Sorry about that. It will go back up at some point...

BORING POST AHEAD

2012-01-16T12:22:00.000-09:30

I haven’t been around here much because I’ve been so busy. Irecently realized I’m working 14 – 16 hours a day, seven days a week. Not good. But several projects were puton hold for the release of The Orchard, and I’m playing catch-up. It was an interesting fall. I had abook released by a major house, a book released by an indie press, and my ownself-published titles. I hate tosay which did the best. Self-pubbed. Anne Frasier. I’m shocked. Really. So I’ve kicked up my productivity,pulled Belfry Press off the backburner, and have been working night and day onmy backlist titles. Three more going up soon, but I also want to get some newmaterial out there. By June I hope to have my second memoir available indigital form. By fall I hope to have the first book of my cat trilogy released.My agent is shopping an Anne Frasier partial right now, but I have no confidence inselling it because I keep hearing that nobody is buying partials anymore. Three years ago an agent (not mine) chewed me out for even considering submitting a partial.

So, say you write the entire thing, then submit to apublishing house. What does that get you? The purpose of an advance is money to live on while you write. Well,that’s what it used to be. If a publisher buys a complete ms, you’ll have towait a year or two for the release, then another year or two before it paysanything, if it pays at all. Or you self-publish it and readers have the bookin their hands without waiting years, and you begin making money on it. And your name stays out there. Readers don’t forget you.

I think thebiggest thing for me, and this is HUGE, is the knowledge that I’m not workingon something that I’m going to have to shop for a year once it’s finally done,then stick in a drawer because it didn’t sell. I can finish the book, publishedthe book, and move on to the next adventure. When I think of all the books I didn’t write over thespan of my career, it makes me sad. I no longer have to not write a book.

I’ve tried to figure out what it would take for me to signwith a major house right now. I don’t know. Everything is so weird! It makes menervous to think of doing this without major-house support, but …

With a major, you sign and kiss the book goodbye. It’s nolonger your book. It’s a productyou sold to someone. And in some cases, that’s perfectly fine. The Orchard is gone. It’s not my book.I’m not sure it will ever be my book again, but that’s okay. It’s more thanokay. The publishing house was able to get the word out there in a way I couldnever have done in a million years. But I like the idea of being in control ofmy art from beginning to end. And I like the idea of the stories always beingmine. I like the idea of notpassing my art through a window and waving goodbye. The other thing I love about digital publishing is thata book is never finished. Writers have long suffered with stories that neverfeel done. We turn them in, then kick ourselves. Damn, why didn’t I add thisline? Or we’re doing a reading and come upon a typo. We were stuck with the stories thatwould always feel unfinished. Now, even if we don’t do it, we know we can simplyupload a new file.

City of the Lost by Stephen Blackmoore

2011-12-30T09:58:00.000-09:30

I'm so excited about this book. I read an early version several years ago and LOVED it. LOVED it. Stephen Blackmoore has voice. He has darkness. He has humor. And he has heart.

And to give you an idea of Stephen's voice, here's a little excerpt from his short story, World's Greatest Dad, taken from the Deadly Treats Halloween anthology. Below that, some early reviews of City of the Lost (release date January 3).

***

Bythe time Franklin Delacorte wakes up, he's been dead six hours.

He'sconfused, disoriented. Wonderingwhy he's naked and surrounded by multi-colored candles in the middle of acrypt.

Hesits up, wobbles a bit. Steadieshimself on the top of the stone sarcophagus he's been lying on. Yellow light gutters through the room,throwing scattered shadows along the stone wall.

Thecandles are a little unnerving. Scented. Vanilla, spice,potpourri. It smells like hisgrandmother's house.

"Dude,"someone says behind him. "Youso have to see this."

Franklinlooks to the door at a vaguely familiar teenager. Can't quite place him. Pimples, greasy hair, wearing an old army jacket. A cigarette dangles on the kid's bottomlip, his mouth hanging open. Aftera moment the cigarette falls to the floor.

and a little later....

Franklinsits in the back of Billy's busted up Cougar, the body bag from the morguewrapped around his waist. TheCougar would be a classic car if it wasn't mostly rust with an engine thatsounds like a wood chipper. Billykeeps working on it, but it never seems to get any better.

"Thisis what I get for busting my butt to keep you boys out of trouble. Didn't you learn a thing in Sundayschool? Like don't play with theforces of the devil?"

"Jeez,dad, we said we were sorry," Jake says.

Franklin'sa little worried. He's seenmovies. He knows how this sort ofthing turns out. "I don'teven want to know how you did it, but I swear if I start gnawing on brains I'mgonna start with yours."

World's Greatest Dad, Stephen Blackmoore

***

Praise for City of the Lost:

Review

"The gritty streets of CITY OF THE LOST are filled with snappy dialog, and fascinating characters, as well as a rollercoaster of a plot that doesn't slow down from beginning to end. This is the zombie crime novel we didn't know we were all waiting for."
- Seanan McGuire, author of DISCOUNT ARMAGEDDON

"CITY OF THE LOST is the best kind of paranormal noir: gritty, breakneck- paced, and impossible to put down. Joe Sunday is a new antihero to watch, and the next installment can't come soon enough."
- Caitlin Kittredge, author of THE IRON THORN

"Bruja, demons, bloodsuckers, the living dead and bucketloads of bloody magic - you'll find all of those in CITY OF THE LOST, but the real magic is how Blackmoore deftly breathes secret supernatural life into the City of Angels. This is an auspicious debut that's at turns violent, hilarious, and tragic. Can't wait make a return trip to Blackmoore's voodoo version of L.A."
- Chuck Wendig, author of BLACKBIRDS

"For a debut author, Stephen Blackmoore knows perfectly well how to snatch up his readers and barrel away with them from page one. In Joe Sunday, he's created the perfect hard-boiled anti-hero - an inexorable protagonist who's short on tongue-wagging and long on visceral brutality, yet is totally sympathetic due to his singular narrative voice. Oh, yeah. He's also dead. CITY OF THE LOST is one hell of a fast and thoroughly enjoyable ride. The perfect book for fans of crime noir, urban fantasy, and horror. One of my favorite reads of the year."
- John Hornor Jacobs, author of SOUTHERN GODS

"The funhouse reflection of L.A. Blackmoore conjures is at once vibrant, seedy, and mysterious - streets so mean, they feel as though plucked straight from Chandler's DT nightmares. CITY OF THE LOST effortlessly blends the grit with the fantastical, and paints a world in which magic is to be feared - but not nearly so much as the people behind it."
- Chris F. Holm, author of DEAD HARVEST

THE ORCHARD IS TEMPORARILY 1.99

2011-12-27T03:48:00.001-09:30

Almost free! Grab a copy while you can.
I happened to look at Amazon yesterday and was shocked to see that The Orchard had been discounted to 1.99. I have no idea how long this sale will last, so grab it while you can. Regular price is 11.99, and I have to admit I when I saw the 1.99 I wondered if it was some kind of Amazon glitch. But it's also 1.99 on iTunes. I always thought the 11.99 was way too high. 4.99 - 5.99 seems much more realistic to me. But 1.99 is pocket change!

It's thrilling to see The Orchard making some Best of 2011 lists.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

2011-12-19T10:30:00.003-09:30

Ah, nothing like Christmas memories.

I posted this back in April, but it's such a warm and tender and 100% true holiday story that it just begged for a rerun. Some people thought this was piece of fiction. It's nonfiction. It happened to me.

THE GENTLEMAN CALLER

A phone call on Christmas Eve.

I answer.

A strange man's voice on the other end. Kids are lying on the living-room floor watching TV, the tree a few feet away.

"I hate to tell you this," the man says, "but your husband and my wife were having an affair. I found his name and phone number in her purse." His voice is deep and flat. Menacing without the menace.

I say nothing.

"I just killed her. Blew her brains out. And I know where you live. Tell your husband that I'm going to do the same thing to him. Tell him that as soon as he steps out the door Christmas morning I'm putting a bullet between his eyes."

Click.

My thoughts race. Christmas Eve. Some sick prank. But not a kid. The voice belonged to a man, probably someone in his forties. Who?

The back door opens and a cold gust of wind comes in, wrapping around my ankles.

The children shriek and run to their father. "Can we open a present? Just one?"

I don't say anything about the phone call. Not at first.

But later, after the kids are in bed, I tell my husband. And he reacts in the way I thought he would. He gets out his rifle, loads it, and begins pacing the house.

"I wish I hadn't said anything," I say. "I shouldn't have told you. You're acting crazy."

"I have to be prepared."

"Are you saying the woman is real?" I pull up a stock image of a murdered wife, and I imagine her looking like someone who might sell real estate. Very put together, with a white suit, high heels, caramel-colored hair, and a big shiny bracelet. Her purse, the purse with the name and phone number, is white leather.

"Of course not, but there's a nut out there."

"It's Christmas Eve. It's some sicko making random calls. He most likely doesn't even live around here."

We call the cops and tell them about the strange man. A couple of weeks later someone from the police department stops by.

"The guy who called you on Christmas Eve? He was caught," the cop says as the three of us stand clustered inside the back door, the door where my husband was supposed to have met that bullet. "The man was a telemarketer in California. Do you remember getting a call from a tool salesman?" the cop asks.

My husband nods. "Yeah, I gave him a hard time. I put the phone down, walked away, ate something. When I came back he was still giving me his sales pitch. I put the phone down again, did some other stuff, then hung it up about thirty minutes later. The guy was still talking."

"Well, he kept track of every person who treated him badly and he spent his Christmas Eve making phone calls. Complaints were filed all over the country."

LAST BOOK EVENT OF THE YEAR

2011-12-17T08:01:00.000-09:30

Stillwater, Minnesota, during the Christmas season...

What could be sweeter?

My last book event of the year is this Sunday:

When: December 18, 2:00
Where: Valley Bookseller, Stillwater, Minnesota.

I'm not sure if this is a signing only, or if I'm talking about The Orchard a bit. But anyway, if you're in the Stillwater area and are looking for a last-minute gift... Stop by!

When the problem becomes the solution

2011-12-06T06:40:00.001-09:30

This happens to writers all the time. We write scenes we love, but maybe they don't quite fit. Maybe they don't advance the plot. Maybe they just kind of hang there and interrupt the story flow. But one thing I always forget is that anything can be made to work, and everything can be fixed. I'm working on a suspense novel right now, and I have a scene I love. It introduces a main character. But I didn't feel it fit. and it definitely interrupted the flow. And it definitely seemed to just be this disconnected scene that wasn't progressing the plot in the way a page-turner should. When I have this kind of problem, I always put it aside. Then, as soon as I wake up, before I get out of bed, I think about it. And OMG, I came up with the best idea. And now the scene I was going to toss has become pivotal. Now it not only advances the plot, in propels it.

HOW WILL THEY KNOW?

2011-11-28T15:43:00.001-09:30

Back before The Orchard sold, my agent and I had a talk about names. I did not want to publish it under my real name. I didn't even want to use Frasier. Names I came up with were Terry Ahlberg (grandmother's last name) and Anne Ahlberg.

Why use a pseudonym for a memoir? I didn't want anybody to easily figure out the innocent and not-so-innocent players in the story. I explained to my agent why I didn't want to use my real name, and her response was: "How will anybody back there even know about the book?" And that kind of says everything, because I was thinking just the opposite: How will they NOT know? If you aren't from a small town, you don't understand these things. So we put the name issue aside, agreeing to worry about it later, when and IF (highly unlikely) the book sold. Once it did sell, I brought up the name issue again. I told my editor that I'd rather not publish the book under Weir. I think there was some discussion about it behind the walls of the publishing house, and later I was told that since it was memoir it really needed to be published under my real name.

Drat!

I doubt I will ever be comfortable with that decision. But on the other hand, I completely understand why it was made. I know it's weird that I would want to protect certain people from exposure, but that's the way I am. And I think the whole Frey thing has made publishers paranoid about putting anything out there that might seem suspect. The result is that that they work extra hard to make sure everything is transparent. I suppose it was horribly naive of me to think I could use a different name. But I still like Ahlberg.

Dear Alfred

2011-11-23T14:05:00.001-09:30

WWAD

What would Alfred do?

Dear Alfred Hitchcock,

I've reached the point in my suspense where I have to make a decision. Do I let the reader in on the secret? Do I show the reader the bad stuff? The secret stuff? Or do I forge ahead, keeping the reader and the protagonist in the dark?

As you well know (because of our many conversations), I'm a deep POV person, so I lean toward not telling. I lean toward letting the reader find out along with the main character. Because I want the reader to BE the main character. But I know it depends upon the situation. I know it depends upon the story.

How do I get the most emotional bang for my buck? Because it's all about emotion, isn't it? When we really strip it down? No matter what we're writing. Fiction. Nonfiction. Science Fiction. Romance. Mystery. Thriller. Suspense.

Dear Uncle Alfred, can you tell me? Should I let the reader in on the person hiding in the closet? What would you do?

SIGNINGS

2011-11-12T09:03:00.001-09:30

Things have slowed down a bit, but I still have a few readings and signings on the calendar.

Wednesday, November 16, I'll be reading at Common Good Books in St. Paul. The event starts at 7:30. I'm not sure of the format... Maybe read a half hour, then sign? Or do a puppet show?

I like the idea of a puppet show. I'll have to work on that.

Below is a photo I took of Common Good Books several years ago. The store located in the Cathedral Hill neighborhood of St. Paul, an area that is just as beautiful as it sounds.

December events: Magers and Quinn, Minneapolis, December 10, 1:00
Valley Bookseller, Stillwater, Minnesota, December 18, 2:00

Have you met my kids?

2011-11-10T04:28:00.000-09:30

Free download of the new Chambermaids single.
Love this song!

<a href="http://chambermaids.bandcamp.com/track/whirlpool">Whirlpool by The Chambermaids</a>

Baking by the seat of my pants

2011-10-25T12:17:00.000-09:30

I’m a baking rebel who must always change at least one measurement or ingredient in a recipe, and often more than one. Most of the time I use no recipe at all and just eyeball it. Results have been some of the worst things I’ve ever made--those culinary disasters that are carried to the backyard and chucked over the fence. But some of my experiments, especially my apple pies, have gone down in history as one-time magical works of art that can’t be duplicated.

The road to a magical pie is simple—start with a basic pie recipe, then tweak it.

Things to keep in mind when baking an apple pie:

* Most bakers will tell you that the best apples pies come from a combination of apples, and I agree. I never bake a pie using a single variety. By mixing them up, you combine apples of different strengths and qualities, the main ones being flavor, texture, and moisture.

* Good apple-pie apples include, but aren’t limited to, the following:

McIntosh
Jonamac
Jonathan: You can never go wrong with a Jonathan. It has all of the qualities of a good apple, especially when it comes to flavor and texture. A Jonathan apple might seem boring, but there’s a reason it’s been such a popular apple for so many years—it keeps well, has a good flavor, and doesn’t turn to mush when cooked.

Winesap: Winesaps are all about flavor, and a couple of these in your pie can add interest.
Granny Smith
Braeburn
Golden Delicious: Never bake a pie of all Golden Delicious, but adding one or two will increase flavor, moisture, and sweetness. If you add Golden Delicious, you can decrease the sugar.

*Never bake with a Red Delicious apple. I’m guessing that the Red Delicious is the most photographed, painted, and drawn apple in the land, and it’s graced the cover of many a magazine and book. But the Red Delicious apple is an example of getting by on looks alone. The Red Delicious is bland, grainy, and tasteless, but undeniably gorgeous.

Here are some combinations I might consider when plotting my apple pie:
Four Jonathan, two Winesap, one Golden Delicious
Four Granny Smith, two McIntosh, one Winesap
Four McIntosh, two Winesap
Four McIntosh, one Jonathan, one Golden Delicious
Three Granny Smith, two Winesap, one Golden Delicious

Other things to keep in mind:
* Size matters. I’ve experimented with this, and apples slices can be too thick or too thin. Too thick creates pieces that might not cook thoroughly, and too thin creates a pie that is too dense.

* It might be tempting to slice the apples directly into the pie pan, then sprinkle the dry ingredients over the top. I’m a lazy baker and I’ve done this. I can tell you that it works, but the pie won’t be as tasty. Coating the apples evenly is important if you want a magical pie.

* Adjust sugar according to the sweetness of the apples used. For instance, I would reduce the sugar to 3/4 cup or less if adding two Golden Delicious apples. Also, nutmeg isn’t necessary; it’s a matter of preference.

Standard pie recipe

Ingredients:

2 (9 inch) unbaked pie crusts
7 cups peeled, cored and sliced apples
1 cup white sugar
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter

Directions:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees
In a bowl combine apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Place mixture in a pastry-lined 9-inch pie plate. Dot with butter and adjust top crust that has been vented.
Place in oven and bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes. Turn oven temperature down to 275-300 degrees and bake 40-50 minutes or until crust is golden brown and apples are tender. Let cool and serve.

A comprehensive apple resource: Orange Pippin

Excelsior Bay Books

2011-10-24T07:01:00.000-09:30

Tonight is the last event of my book tour which began September 20. The past several weeks just flew by, but when I think about the launch at Once Upon a Crime...that seems so long ago!

Tonight the tour closes with an event hosted by Excelsior Bay Books in Excelsior, Minnesota. This get-together of food, discussion, and signing will be held at 318 Cafe. I'm going to arrive early and plan to grab some food and chat with people. Join us!

Fear and Bravery

2011-10-18T06:33:00.000-09:30

“You were so brave to write this book.”
“This is a story that needed to be told.”
“Thank you for writing this book.”
“Weren’t you afraid?”
“Aren’t you afraid?”

These are the things I’ve heard the most on tour for The Orchard. Some come with hugs and tears, some with hand-wringing and worry. And fear. Whispers of things seen, but never shared. Reports sent to government agencies, stacks of them, ignored, covered up.

Hopelessness. Helplessness.

And yes, I was afraid. And yes, I am afraid. Fear holds all of us back at different points in our lives. It’s okay to be afraid, especially if we push through it. Especially if we can use that fear to drive us forward.

You meet it, and you take it with you, and you use it for fuel.

I often asked myself what my legacy would be if I did not tell this story. I owed it to myself, my children, and the biggest key player of all, someone who wanted this story told to the world. Someone who never had a voice.

I was asked to do two things—plant a birch tree in a very specific location, and write this story.

The birch tree (a tree that symbolized a different geographical location and freedom) didn’t happen because I was unable to get permission to plant it, and the story took me a while, but I did it.

I’ve always been an observer of life, not a participant. But sometimes we reach a point where we know it’s time to participate. It’s time to speak up. And if people think major publishing houses don’t have a heart and soul, the publishing of The Orchard is proof that they do. They have big hearts, and they have big souls. And they know an important book when they see it. Yes, it was brave of me to write this book, but it was brave of Hachette/Grand Central Publishing to publish it.

I applaud all of the unsung heroes within the publishing house who embraced this book. Editors, editorial assistants, marketing, reps, publicity. I think there's been a sense that this is bigger than individuals, and it isn't so much about numbers as it is about the world we live in, and the world we want to leave our children.

AUTHORS FEAST

2011-10-17T09:34:00.001-09:30

Have you heard of an authors feast, but had no idea what it was? Same here. But now that I've been to one, I can tell you all about it. Authors lie naked across a banquet table, and booksellers eat food from your body while you tell them about your current book.

Wait a darn minute.

I'm not sure that's right. I think that was a dream. Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was a dream. Okay, scratch the naked on the table part. Now I'm sitting fully clothed at the table. Booksellers around me. They eat while I talk about my book. (All attending authors are fed before the event. One author to every table.) After ten or fifteen minutes, we're told to change tables. An escort leads us to the next table where we are surrounded by booksellers and we tell them about our book. After ten or fifteen minutes, we're told to change tables and we do it all over again. I'm guessing there were twenty to thirty tables at the event I attended in Detroit (GLIBA, Great Lakes Independent Booksellers Association). Each writer visits three tables in all. It took me one table to really get into the groove. Sorry, first table. I couldn't quite grasp that I was supposed to do almost all of the talking all of the time. That seemed rude, but by my second table I understood that this is all about sharing my book with booksellers. It sounds weird, but it was actually very nice.

Book Tour

2011-10-13T05:47:00.003-09:30

I'm in the middle of my book tour, but I wanted to drop in with a couple of photos from Raven Hill Orchard located in Julian, California.
This was a book event put together by Susan McBeth of Adventures By the Book. She partnered with Slow Food Urban San Diego, and the adventure was truly the best book event ever.

A journey with Adventures By The Book is like diving into a pop-up book.

Readers join authors on a wonderful trip that allows them to experience the book in a personal way. We took a bus ride to Julian, California, where we toured Raven Hill Orchard, picked apples, wandered through the town, ate lunch, drank beer, ate apple pie, talked about books, talked about writing, talked about Slow Food Urban San Diego, talked about The Orchard, and then returned to San Diego while watching the wonderful documentary Queen of The Sun. The package was inexpensive, and all of the readers received a copy of The Orchard. The weather was as perfect as weather could be. About 75 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. A perfect, perfect day.

The following day I had lunch with the most lovely group of women ever. Almost everyone at the luncheon had already read The Orchard and loved it, so that was extra nice. It's a different kind of event when readers have read the book beforehand. The discussion unfolds naturally, and the enthusiasm for the book seems to energize the room. So rewarding for a writer. Both experiences were fantastic in different ways.

Harvest

2011-10-05T08:29:00.004-09:30

In conversation, I might accidently say something about the apple farm where I grew up. And then I have to correct myself and say the apple farm where I once lived. But sometimes it seems that my life truly started when I moved to the apple orchard, and ended when I left. This is not to minimize the life of city dwellers or suburbanites, but life on the farm, no matter how hard, no matter how isolating, feels real times a hundred.

On the farm, we can sense fall before it arrives. It’s not the temperature, but more of an instinct. Subconsciously we know when the sun disappears below the horizon in a certain location, apple season is upon us.

On the farm, we watch and test the apples, cutting samples daily as we wait for the right level of ripeness in order to commence harvest. It varies depending upon variety. Cool nights will put just the right amount of blush on a Winesap, and a dip close to freezing will make Red Delicious almost purple. The flavor itself is determined by soil and rainfall, sunlight and magic. In a perfect season, everything happens at the right time, and harvest launches into full swing long after those tart summer apples have come and gone, long after they’ve been turned into applesauce and consumed at a family picnic.

As the days grow shorter and the evening air takes on a chill, it’s time to attach flatbeds to tractors and haul large wooden boxes to the orchard where the containers are dropped off at trees that await pickers. Early morning comes, and the pickers pile into trucks that take them to the orchard. Once there, they strap on metal picking baskets and balance tall ladders with wide bases and narrow tops against horizontal limbs. The metal baskets fit against the body like a baby carrier, leaving both hands free to pluck ripe fruit from the highest branches. Once the baskets are filled, the picker climbs down and unwraps the ropes that open the canvas bottom of the picking basket, gently releasing the apples into the wooden boxes that will later be delivered to the sorting room.

Every day of picking brings us closer to a complete harvest. Every storm that misses the farm and every freeze that doesn’t happen brings us nearer to season’s end.

Full crates are stacked on pallets, and a barn that was empty gradually fills, the smell of apples increasing with each day, saturating our flannel shirts and hair until we lose track of where we end and the orchard begins.

We’re up before dawn, and in bed long after midnight. On cold mornings, sluggish bees cling to apples as if trying to stop the approaching winter. Dew-covered fruit is dumped on a conveyor belt that sorts by size while workers manually watch for bruises and blemishes, plucking the imperfect from the line. The sorted apples are crated, most ending up in the saleroom for purchase, but seconds and small apples will find their way to the cider room to be pureed and layered between cider cloths and wooden slats, pressed until no more juice can be extracted. What’s left between the cider clothes is called pummy, and it looks like light-colored chewing tobacco. Nothing is wasted, and the pummy is driven to a pasture and fed to cattle that follow behind as the apple remains are shoveled from the wagon while bees hover drunkenly.

The best cider is made from a combination of apples, the foundation being traditional varieties such as Jonathan to ensure that the result isn’t too sweet. True cider is 100% juice with nothing added. As with cider, the best pies come from a combination of both tart and sweet, and also a combination of textures--apples that stay solid and apples that cook down. Experiment. Add a little nutmeg. Let every pie be a new creation. No two pies will ever be the same, and no two growing seasons will produce the same flavor of apples.

On those beautiful fall days, customers drive from the cities and small towns to the salesroom in order to inhale the aroma of newly picked apples and fresh cider. They have a vague notion of the labor and of how the apples got there, got into this bag on this table in front of them. Most don’t care how the trees were pruned in the cold of winter, or how bees were trucked in to pollinate the blossoms in the spring, or how half of the crop was lost due to an early frost. They want the experience of the moment. They want to touch something hard to define. Maybe it’s their past. Maybe it goes back even further, to Adam and Eve.

***
What I'm doing:

I'm preparing to participate in a few events In California. One is the brainchild of Susan McBeth and Adventures By the Book. You can read about it here.

The following day takes me to Manhattan Beach, California and Ladies, Lunch, and Literacy
, followed by a signing at Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore in Redondo Beach.

The comment section is closed due to my book-tour schedule.

What's this about arsenic in apple juice?

2011-09-27T12:27:00.002-09:30

Several people contacted me the day the Dr. Oz arsenic episode aired, asking what I thought about it, wondering what I knew about arsenic in apples.

A little history of lead arsenate in the United States:
Lead arsenate was used heavily in the early 1900s, but fell out of favor when DDT came along and became the new darling. And we know how well that worked out. Once DDT was banned in 1972, lead arsenate made a reappearance and was a mainstay for the majority of orchards until 1988 when it was banned in the United States. But unlike DDT, no worldwide ban on lead arsenate was issued.

When it comes to pesticides, we can follow a history of chemicals being introduced into the environment, then later banned once the dangers are brought to light. This is kind of how it goes: When a pesticide is banned, notices are sent out, and farmers are made aware of the ban long before it takes place. This gives them time to stockpile the banned substance, which they can legally use for a time after the actual sale and production of the product ceases.

The alarming thing about lead arsenate is that it doesn’t go away. Do an online search and you will find more than you want to know about soil and well contamination from lead arsenate. So if you’re thinking of buying ground that was once a charming and beautiful orchard, get the soil tested. Get the well tested.

It’s a given that most apple juice contains a certain level of carcinogens. After all, apples have been named the most pesticide-laden fruit in the country. All you have to do is look at how cider is made to realize that unless you’re buying juice from an organic orchard, the juice you’re drinking most likely contains toxins. Yes, apples are usually run though a cold-water rinse before being ground—skin, seeds and all—to make cider, but cold water alone doesn’t do a lot to remove pesticide residue. And apple seeds, in a high enough dosage, are toxic. Cheers.

Due to my book-tour schedule, the comment section has been shut off temporarily.

INDIE LOVE

2011-09-17T13:27:00.000-09:30

I love indie bookstores. Love them, love them, love them.

There are a lot of different ways to support your indie store in this tough economy. It's true that indie stores usually charge more than Amazon, but at an indie, or even a B&N, you don't have to pay for shipping, your books don't arrived damaged, and a trip to a cool shop immerses you in book culture. And where else will a bookseller ask you what you like to read, zero in on your likes and dislikes, then hand you a book you've never heard of, but end up loving? And I don't think I even need to mention all of the wonderful author events.

If you can't make it to your favorite bookstore, and if you have an ereader, think about purchasing ebooks from your indie bookseller. Most of them have gotten into the ebook business, and their prices are surprisingly competitive. So be sure to visit their websites before automatically going to that other place...

Don't know if there's an indie store near you? Check out IndieBound.

DEADLY TREATS NOW AVAILABLE

2011-08-12T09:10:00.006-09:30

DEADLY TREATS is now available!

Deadly Treats can be ordered through any independent bookstore, and is also available through Adventure Publications, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.

Group discussion and signing at HarMar Barnes & Noble, Roseville, Minnesota
When: October 6, 7:00

Who:
Lance Zarimba
David Housewright
Shirley Damsgaard
Leandra Logan
Marilyn Victor
Michael Allan Mallory
Mark Hull
Paula L. Fleming
Theresa Weir/Anne Frasier

This anthology would make a great Halloween gift. The stories range from hilarious (Lance, Mark, Paul), to dark and slightly disturbing (LK, Stephen, Kelly). A lot of dark humor going on (Leandra, Pat, Marilyn, Julia), but some of the stories are just simply lovely (Patti, Bill, Heather). No other way to put it. Then we have the classic, flashlight-under-the chin pieces by David, Daniel, Michael, Jason, Shirley, and Paula, all perfect for reading by candlelight at a Halloween party or event.

And check out this wonderful review at The Occult Detective where the anthology is highly recommended: "Deadly Treats is an anthology that delivers and is a perfect companion for those long and lonely nights when the air turns chill and you bury yourself in a blanket on the couch, book in hand."

************************************

About the book:

1. Patrica Abbott, The Angel Deeb

When a pickpocket begins to have serious health isssues, he finds himself contemplating a new line of work. If you’ve never read Patti Abbott, you’re in for a treat.

2. Bill Cameron, Sunlight Nocturne

Ex-cop Skin Kadash spends Halloween day building a bat house with his neighbor, four-year-old Danny, while helicopters circle overhead looking for a murderer who might be hiding nearby. This wonderful story skillfully contrasts a lazy fall day with a brutal murder and police search. Bill Cameron writes crime fiction, and is the award-winning author of Lost Dog, Day One, and the recently released County Line published by Tyrus Books.

3. Pat Dennis, Dead Line

Sibling rivalry and a suburban Halloween decorating contest cause Kate to take a pitchfork to her sister’s yard display. Pat is a stand-up comic, popular writing instructor, publisher, and published author.

4. David Housewright, Time of Death

A young girl under arrest for the brutal murder of her cheating boyfriend attempts to convince the investigator that she is innocent, claiming the murder was committed by a ghost. David is an Edgar-winning author, and writing instructor at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis.

5. Stephen Blackmoore, World’s Greatest Dad

By the time Franklin Delacorte wakes up, he’s been dead six hours and is unsure of how he feels about his sons turning him into a zombie. When Franklin's behavior gets out of control, the boys feel compelled to undo what they’ve done, but Daddy knows best, and Franklin doesn’t want to stay dead.

Stephen Blackmoore has an uncanny skill for writing black humor, and World’s Greatest Dad is a hilarious zombie tour de force. Look for his upcoming DAW release, City of the Lost, January, 2012.

5. Heather Dearly, Troubled Water

The anniversary of two deaths brings about the return of the Grim Reaper to Anya Madjigijik’s house on Cemetery Road. A haunting, moody, and beautifully written tale by this previously unpublished author.

6. Mark Hull, Friday Night Dining with Marianne

It’s Halloween, and a food critic finds herself dining on chubby Boy Scout, mountaineer eyeballs, and sea monkeys. If Bram Stoker had written comedy, it would look exactly like this. Mark Hull’s Friday Night Dining is pure charm and delight from beginning to end.

7. Leandra Logan, You Called

A bitter, lonely woman spends Friday nights drinking cheap wine and entertaining herself by redialing the days unanswered calls to harass telemarketers. But she finally meets her match. Leandra is a multi-published, bestselling author.

8. Marilyn Victor, The Ogre of Her Dreams

Fledging witch Aurora Piddleworth wants a soulmate, and she blackmails instructor Olympia Dalrymple into creating the man of her dreams.

This is a clever, well-drawn, delightful story from beginning to end. Marilyn Victor is half of the crime-fiction writing team of Marilyn Victor and Michael Allen Mallory, known for their zoo mysteries.

9. Julia Buckley, Motherly Intuition

A mother’s job is never done, and death is no reason to keep Daphne’s mother from looking out for her daughter. Julia Buckley always delights, and Motherly Intuition is a great showcase for her charm and humor. Julia is author of the Madeline Mann series

10. Lance Zarimba, Fangs and All

It’s love at first bite for Billy Joe Jim Bob when he brings his first vampire home in this hilarious and deliberately cliché-packed story. Lance is a multi-published author.

11. L.K. Rigel, Slurp!

Feed your Muse takes on a whole new meaning when a writer has a breakdown on Halloween. A wicked, fresh, and clever tale by a talented writer.

12. Kelly Lynn Parra, Graveyard Soul Sucker

It’s Halloween, and group of college students visit a graveyard in an attempt to reanimate a dead serial killer with a ritual found in an ancient book of spells. Kelly Parra is the award-winning author of Graffiti Girl and the more recent Carina Press release, Criminal Instinct.

13. Jason Evans, She Came on the October Wind

A stray black cat appears nightly at Natalie’s window, bringing with it memories of a sister who ran away years earlier. Jason is the author of the blog, The Clarity of Night, where he hosts and judges a popular flash-fiction contest.

14. Paula L. Fleming, Tricks, Treats, and Terror in Tin Lake

Halloween is the one day of the year when alien Adeela can shed her costume and walk freely among the humans.

Paula L. Fleming is a short-story writer and busy freelance editor living in Minneapolis.

15. Shirley Damsgaard, Bewitched

So what if you don’t have the right ingredients to cast a spell? Rachel buys a magic book from an antique store and uses household ingredients to bring Mr. Right back into her life. Shirley is the author of the popular Ophelia and Abby mysteries.

16. Anne Frasier, The Replacement

After a young man is reanimated, he has forty-eight hours to find a replacement for his empty grave if he wants to remain above ground. The best candidate for replacement is the man who murdered him. Anne is a USA Today bestselling author. Her memoir, The Orchard (Theresa Weir), hits stores September 21.

17. Paul D. Brazill, This Old House

If you want a job done right, do it yourself. Or in the case of This Old House, never hire an idiot to burn down your home. Paul is a resident of Poland and brings a fun, unique voice to the mix.

18. Michael Allan Mallory, Boo!

A lonely widower discovers that his old Halloween pranks no longer cut it with the new generation of jaded kids who are too old for trick-or-treat anyway. But when an unexpected visitor shows up at the widower’s door, they hatch a plot the teenagers won’t forget. Michael Allan Mallory is the co-author of Killer Instinct and Death Roll.

19. Daniel Hatadi, Playpen

When eight-year-old Tim vanishes while playing in Kids Playhouse, his best friend Manny must solve the crime and convince adults that there is more to Tim’s disappearance than a human abduction or childish prank.
Daniel Hatadi lives in Australia and is the mastermind and puppet master behind Crimespace, an online writing world for crime-fiction writers.

DIGITIZING PRINTS AND SLIDES

2011-08-06T11:16:00.000-09:30

About a year ago I had 250 slides converted to digital files. I'd put it off for a long time because I was afraid to mail my slides anywhere. So nervous about sending off the only copy of something that could never be replaced if lost. So for a few years I went back and forth about it. Thought of doing it myself at home, but I knew I would have to set aside weeks to process everything. That just didn't appeal to me. I also knew that a lot of digital transfer places actually send the slides out of the country. That freaked me out all over again. I picked out about twenty choice slides and took them to National Camera in Minneapolis where they do the transfers onsite, but it was pretty expensive, and I knew there was no way I could afford to have them digitize 250 images. So after a lot of online research, I ended up settling on a place in New Jersey called Fotobridge. They were wonderful, and I highly recommend them. They let you know when your slides arrive, they let you know when they are being processed, they let you know when they've been shipped for the return journey. And they don't ship them to another country for the conversion. That was important to me. I think the whole process took about two weeks. Maybe a bit longer. Could have been closer to three from the time I mailed them until they arrived back at my door.

My plan had been to use the images to enhance blog posts about The Orchard, but I emailed a few images to my editor, and she suggested they use some in the digital version of The Orchard. They picked out about fifteen images that will be included at the end of the book.

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT OF THE ORCHARD

2011-08-02T17:26:00.000-09:30

"Like" The Orchard's Facebook page and read an exclusive excerpt!

SHORT FICTION

2011-07-31T08:37:00.000-09:30

Below is the guest piece I wrote for The Clarity of Night.

Blood Moon
Anne Frasier/Theresa Weir

I was born under a blood moon. At least that’s what my grammie always tells me.

“Girl, you came shootin’ out like you couldn’t wait to start raisin’ hell,” is what she says. And then her face darkens and she reaches for the bottle.

It ain’t easy knowing your birth killed your own ma. And not a day goes by but Gram doesn’t remind me that I’m a murderer. And not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could turn back the clock and be unborn. But it don’t work that way, and when the townspeople come to the swamp to have their fortunes told, I cling to their soft, perfumed hands longer than I should because I want to feel something besides my life with Gram. And even if I sense bad things, I don’t tell the customers. I look for the positive and happy. I want to see their shoulders relax in relief. I want to see them smile. And it don’t hurt that they tip more for good news.

Once they leave, I take the money to Gram and she puts it in a jar and we sit down by the bed, one on each side. And just like we’ve done for the past sixteen years, Gram rubs olive oil on my mother’s leathery arms and legs while I brush our dead darling’s hair, lightly, barely touching so I won’t do any more damage.

IT READS LIKE FICTION

2011-07-16T12:30:00.003-09:30

A few days ago I attended a pre-pub dinner in Minneapolis. I’ve been writing for 30 years, but I’d never heard of a pre-pub dinner until recently. I’m still not sure if a pre-pub dinner is relatively new or if it’s something that’s been kept kind of a secret. My publicist was there, along with the Hachette rep. Both wonderful people. Guests were booksellers and bookstore owners from Once Upon a Crime, Excelsior Bay Books, Carleton College Bookstore, and University of Minnesota Bookstore. All but one of them had read The Orchard, and we basically just talked about the book. It was an all-about-me night! And almost everyone said: “It reads like fiction.” Another thing I’ve been hearing: “It’s your voice. It’s still your voice!”

Of course it is! ☺

Many memoir writers come straight from a nonfiction background, but I’ve been developing my writing style for thirty years. Before I started writing the memoir, I made a conscious decision not to change my fiction-writing voice in order to write nonfiction. I saw no reason to dilute what I consider my strength. So yes, The Orchard is written in what would typically be considered a fiction voice.

"Elemental" Short Fiction Contest

2011-07-13T03:30:00.000-09:30

Another sure-to-be wonderful contest is going on at The Clarity of Night.

Jason's contests have become so popular that he's had to limit the number of entries, so get your story in early. And if you can't participate this time around, be sure to read some of the entries. This is always a fun event.

BTW, Jason has a great short story in the upcoming Deadly Treats anthology.

SHE'S NOT THERE

2011-07-09T12:42:00.002-09:30

Yesterday I visited an apple orchard for the first time in fifteen years because my publishing house hired a company to make a book video for The Orchard. On the way there, I thought I was going to black out, and every time I imagined getting that first glimpse of the orchard, my heart slammed in my chest. I had to stop at a café for a drink. Not a booze drink, although that might have been better, but just a glass of green tea so I could collect and fortify myself.

But once I got to the orchard, I was okay. Partially because it was very small and the trees were scattered, not in rows, not symmetrical. Not the kind of orchard I was used to seeing, if not for real anymore, at least in my mind. But it was still odd, because it felt like I was pretending to be someone I haven’t been in years. The girl in book, the girl in The Orchard. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been that person for a long time. The person I am now hadn’t stepped foot in an orchard for fifteen years until yesterday. And the person I am now started eating apples again not long ago. Until recently, I couldn’t even look at an apple, and don’t get me started about cider. The word alone gives me a little hitch in my throat not unlike a gag. So yesterday was very odd and surreal. Most of The Orchard (the book, not the place) is about my twenty-something self, and I think the idea was to capture the mood and setting of the book, except that now I’m a curmudgeon who recoils and lifts my black cape to the sun.

I wonder if readers will expect me to be that person in the book, or will they understand that she's gone?

WRITING CAMP

2011-07-06T10:29:00.000-09:30

We've been talking about doing this forever. We make plans. Something happens. Cancel plans. A year passes. Another year. Well this weekend a few of us writerly people got together at my place. And WROTE!

Well, we did a lot of other things, like talk and laugh and eat. And eat some more. But in order to keep this a bit on track, we decided to set a timer for a hour. And WROTE!

Then we ate and talked and laugh. Then set the timer for another hour. And WROTE!

And then of course we ate some more and shared our stories. Pat had the highest word count with something like 1600 words. Not only did she have an impressive word count, she had a great story! I had around 1200 words after the first hour. The second hour was spent editing (weeding), so I ended up with 1000 total. I hadn't thought at all about what I was going to write until the timer starting ticking. I'd originally thought I would write a nonfiction piece I'm planning for a magazine, but I just didn't feel like writing nonfiction. I was in a fiction mood. It took about fifteen minutes for my brain to finally make sense of what I was typing, and after 45 minutes I could see where the story was going.

I gave it an edit, but nobody else has proofed it, so it might have some mistakes. If you want to read it for free, you can find it on Smashwords.

I'd just post it here, but it will lose all formatting.
It's a fantasy about a time shift, a dreamscape, an alternate world, a pale boy, a goth girl, a coffee shop, and a business card.

DING! APPLES WIN!

2011-06-14T09:52:00.002-09:30

This week the apple was named the most pesticide-laden of all fruits and vegetables, so what’s a consumer to do?
How do you eat an apple?
Should you eat apples?
What should you do with the non-organic apples you just bought?
Is it okay to eat non-organic apples if you peel them?

Everybody should know how to clean an apple. Let’s say you’re on a tight budget and you haven’t purchased your apples in the organic section of the grocery store.

Like radiation, exposure to pesticides is cumulative.

You can’t eliminate all pesticides from your diet, but you can cut down on how much you ingest. How? Wash the fruit.

In order the understand how to wash an apple, you need to know what happens to an apple in the field and after harvest. Pesticides are applied with a carrier, and that carrier is usually oil-based. Pesticides are horribly, horribly, horribly expensive, and the oil makes the pesticide stick to the fruit so that it doesn’t wash away in the first rain. Another thing to know: Apples are sprayed all season long, from first bud (to make them set) to just before harvest. Pesticides can’t be sprayed within a certain time frame, I think it’s maybe two weeks before picking, but I’m not sure about the exact time restriction. The final chemical application might be something called Stop Drop, not a pesticide, but a product that keeps the apples from…you guessed it, dropping. This can be applied two to five days before harvest.

After the pick. This rarely applies in small orchards, but you want to know what makes those beautifully displayed apples so shiny? Wax. They go through a wax bath before hitting the shelves. So you have wax and oil and pesticides. This is why water alone isn’t the best method for cleaning fruit, and why it’s best to wash apples with soap. The soap (in products like Fit, a fruit and vegetable wash) will cut the wax and oil.

So if you haven’t eaten an apple in quite some time and you want to eat a shiny, beautiful apple, wash it with soap and rinse it well. Of course it’s simply best to buy organic, but we can’t always do that. And I don’t know what to say about peeling. I’d like to know how much poison leaches through the skin. It would depend on the apple. A thick-skinned apple like a Winesap or a Jonathan might not have much leaching at all, but something thin, like a Transparent, would most likely have more.

Pesticides create perfect, beautiful apples.

KITTY MEMOIR

2011-06-05T07:00:00.000-09:30

“Yesterday I was put to sleep.” Kitty memoir

It shouldn’t hurt this much, but it’s like the death of a person. I wish I’d waited one more day. And one more day. I retrace the past week, I examine and wonder, and see the days through a different lens every time I look at them. One minute I think I waited too long, years too long. Another, I think I didn’t wait long enough. I wish he were with me right now. That’s all I know.

He was old. Almost twenty.

The princess and Latoya, St. Paul 2003

The last animal from what I call our old life, the life on the farm.

“He’s so charming,” people always said.

He loved it when a group of people got together and sat around talking and laughing. He loved the sound of laughter.

It’s like the death of a person.

He showed up on our farm as a kitten, probably a dump.
“Don’t touch it,” I told my daughter, who was already mentally cuddling the animal. “It might have some disease.”
“It has devil eyes,” my husband said. “Look at how it’s looking at me. Making eye contact.” There was fear in his voice. “Don’t feed it and it’ll leave.”

But the cat didn't leave, and we began calling him Latoya, thinking he was a female.

He hung around the corncrib and caught mice.

One day I found him there, sick. I took him to the vet.
“Pneumonia,” the vet said. “Never seen a case this bad. If he lives, he’ll always be in bad health.” I found out he was a boy, not a girl.

So I took him home and put him in a box in the basement.
“I don’t want that devil cat in the house,” my husband said.
“What is he going to do? Put a spell on you?”
“Maybe.”
The cat recovered and he was returned to the outdoors. I got him neutered, but we continued to call him Latoya.
He was always around. In the field near the house. In the evenings, when I went for a jog, he would follow me, get tired, and wait in the roadside ditch for me to return, then follow me home. I fed him, and he became my cat.

In 1994, I went on a trip.
“Don’t forget to feed Latoya,” I told my son and husband. “I don’t want him roaming, searching for food.”
While I was gone, my husband accidentally ran over Latoya with a sickle mower, a mower used to trim ditches. He was so mangled that he should have been put to sleep, but my son coaxed him out of the culvert where he’d gone to die. The vet did what he could. “I don’t think he’ll live, and he’ll never walk or use the litter box. Take him home, but you’ll probably need to have him put down.” Poor Latoya had two and a half legs, and half a tail. They’d shaved him, and he was as naked as a mole rat.

Over the next month, pieces of him fell off, but he slowly recovered, and the devil cat became a housecat. My constant companion.

St. Paul, 2005

He had no trouble getting around, and could even run and climb a tree if taken outside. Like the vet said, he had respiratory issues off and on his whole life. But he lived and lived and lived.

Two years ago, he was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, but he couldn’t tolerate the medication. And as time passed, he got so he could no longer go up and down the stairs to sleep with me in my bed. His weight dropped from sixteen pounds to five.

Church house, 2009

I would spend evenings downstairs in the living room with him, watching television. He lost his hearing, and began to yowl if he thought he was alone. The social butterfly. A few days ago, my daughter came by and we realized he could hear us, and he enjoyed sitting with us as we talked and laughed. He still loved the sound of laughter.

This day has been coming for a long time, but I didn’t know it would hurt so much. He was a cat. A cat. But it feels like the death of a person. I don’t understand how humans bond so strongly with their pets, but it’s something profound and crazy and painful and maybe beautiful. I’m not sure about the beautiful. It hurts too much for beautiful.

Twenty years. He was with me through the death of my husband, my move from the farm to Iowa, my move to St. Paul, my move to Wisconsin. In the past several years, he required constant care. Because of that, my adult children and I took him with us when we went up north and stayed at a cabin for a week. I’m not sure if he enjoyed it, but he took it all in stride, the way he did everything.

Me and Latoya at cabin, 2010

I’ve had a lot of cats in my life, but he was special. Unique and almost human. I can’t believe he’s gone. The house is so empty. There’s a giant hole in my heart that I don’t think any other pet could ever fill.

DEWEY FOREVER

2011-05-16T05:01:00.001-09:30

If you happen to read The Orchard, you’ll know that I lived just outside the town of Burlington, Iowa, before moving to St. Paul, Minnesota. My place was located four miles out of town, up a steep and rutty dead-end road. At the bottom of the hill, before the challenging road, was a farm owned by a strange little man who wore nothing but brown jockey shorts that had once been white, striped tube socks, and tennis shoes. His name was Dewey, and I never saw him in anything but the shorts, although I assume he wore more clothing in the winter.

Dewey’s style of undress wasn’t unlike that of the Naked Bookseller immortalized by Lee Goldberg back in 2006.

Lee is the one wearing clothes.

Dewey sold ear corn out of his barn. A person could just drive into the barn, put a bag in her car, and leave money in a wooden box. I never ran into Dewey while buying corn to feed the squirrels. There were times I was sure he was in the house, and times I could tell he’d just been there. Like a bowl of milk left for the cats. The best way to get a halfway decent look at him was when he was walking his dog along the road, or when he was in the field on his tractor. I was told he wore the underwear to town, and that he’d been escorted out of the mall on more than one occasion. I was told the only person he liked was his mother, and she was dead.

He and I were both antisocial misfits, but I liked to think mine was temporary. I was healing, and I knew that one day I would emerge from my self-imposed exile ready to reconnect with the world. For Dewey, it wasn’t a phase. And I imagine when he was kicked out of stores, he didn’t see himself as the one who needed to conform.

One day I notice a lot of activity just across the road from his house, on the edge of a cornfield.

Dewey was building something.

Every time I passed, he was working away. Digging and prepping the ground with an end loader. Pouring cement. Tractoring in huge cement crosses that eventually made a fence. He painted them white. It took weeks. A monument? It looked like he was building a monument of some kind.

And then one day a metal archway arrived.

Dewey Byar Farms Forever.

I still wasn’t sure just what I was looking at. A monument to his farm?

A few weeks later, I drove by and saw something new inside the square of white cement crosses. A fresh mound of dirt. A grave. Flowers. And I realized Dewey had built a cemetery for himself. At home, I checked the obituaries and found that he'd died of cancer.

The evening before I moved from Iowa to St. Paul, I thought about the cemetery and rushed down the hill to take some photos before it got too dark.

Isn't it equal parts sad and fantastic?
And aren't people weird and wonderful?

ALDO LEOPOLD

2011-05-14T06:29:00.001-09:30

I've always had a fascination for Aldo Leopold, mostly because of his environmental and conservation ethics, but also because he's from my hometown of Burlington, Iowa. Like me, he moved from Burlington to New Mexico, then back to the Midwest and Wisconsin, and he and his family are buried in Aspen Grove Cemetery (Burlington) not far from my grandparent's graves. I look him up whenever I visit.

Really want to see this documentary.

Looks like you can purchase a DVD here.

PLAY DEAD GETS A MAKEOVER

2011-05-05T05:12:00.000-09:30

What do you think of this cover?

I spent a week trying to find the perfect image, but everything I came up with missed the mark. Nothing really evoked the feel of the book, which is decidedly dark Gothic, but with a tiny bit of camp thrown in.

Finally found this image, which I sent to the great Robin Ludwig, who worked her font magic. I also had the book professionally formatted, and it can now be found at Barnes&Noble as well as Amazon. The iBook will be next.

I chose Play Dead for this makeover because it outsells all of my other titles, and I wanted readers to have a more satisfying reading experience. I also think Play Dead has held up better than most of my Frasier titles. Why? In my opinion, it's because it didn't adhere to the expectations of the police procedural. This can be a tough sell on release day, but in the end I think writing outside the lines has given Play Dead a longer life because it doesn't feel dated and it doesn't feel like a plot you've read a million times.

TWO WAYS TO WIN AN ARC OF THE ORCHARD

2011-05-01T04:39:00.000-09:30

You'll find a lot of cool things at Brenda Novak's Annual Auction for the Cure of Diabetes.

Like full manuscript evaluations from agents, vacations, dinner with writers, shopping trips, cruises, and a lot of books.

Brenda Novak's annual auction

I used to ask people to leave a comment in order to enter a drawing. I would actually write down the names and put them in a bowl, but Goodreads has this handy little thing that does it all for you.

The only drawback is that it tries to match readers with books. That's good for a writer, but maybe not so good for people who read my blog because you will be competing against many people who've probably never heard of me and might not even care that much about winning a book. But I thought I'd give it a try.

GOODREADS BOOK GIVEAWAY

I'D KILL FOR A DEAD BODY

2011-04-23T12:05:00.002-09:30

Weird things people say when they find out I've written a memoir.

“Who is the memoir about?”

Some people think you need to be a celebrity to publish a memoir. That confusion is understandable. A few agents told me the memoir wouldn’t sell because I wasn’t a celebrity, so if the gatekeepers are saying no, then it’s understandable that people who aren’t even in the business would be confused.

“Maybe I can finally figure out who you are.”

This might seem a strange comment, but it actually makes sense.

I never talk about myself. I never talk about my past lives. I willingly left them behind. And how do you convey an event or a series of events in a light conversation? In a few sentences? It can’t be done, so why try to share it? Especially if the story is dark. People don’t want to hear about that kind of thing when you’re out for dinner. It’s not the time. And maybe if you got wasted enough to share some dark corner of your life, chances are you’d regret it once the hangover wore off. So I can totally understand the bafflement 95% of people feel when I tell them I’ve written a memoir. And stranger still, that anybody would want to publish it. Because live and in person, I’m pretty ordinary. Boring, really.

But as you get older, you begin to realize that those events you stuck away shaped who you are, and maybe it’s time to take them from the bottom drawer and examine them. If you dare. Because it’s a head trip.

I’m working on a second memoir, and more bafflement comes my way. “A second one? I don’t get it. Why would anyone write more than one?”

I’ve come to realize that many people, including the media, confuse memoir with autobiography. There’s a huge difference. Memoir is an artistic interpretation of an event or events. It could be about a day, a week, a month, a year. Or a lifetime. So a single person might have many memoirs in her.

I thought this second memoir would be easier, but I'm struggling with the same issues that I now suspect come with the memoir territory. How to make true life a page turner. How to broaden the story so it is more than the sum of its parts.

A dead body. I'd kill for a dead body right now. Really wish I would open a closet door and find the beef-jerky remains of a man dressed in a leisure suit. Or at the very least, a fetus in the attic.

I have to remind myself that I've been through this before. And the story came together before. And it will be okay without a dead body. And once it starts sounding like a memoir, I know I'm off track.

This week I sent out fifteen ARCs of The Orchard, and realized that no one outside people in the publishing world, the publishing world including friends who freelance edit, have read this book. No one. Gulp.

I still have a few ARCs left, so if you are a reviewer or bookseller and would like a copy, let me know.

SO DARK FOR APRIL BLOG TOUR

2011-04-19T04:49:00.004-09:30

Another year has rolled around, and the latest issue of The Lineup, Poems on Crime is now available!

This is such a labor of love, and such a wonderful chapbook. Let's all support it. And speaking of support, I was in my local library yesterday where a copy of The Lineup #3 was displayed on the checkout counter. And they are eagerly anticipating #4.

I read somewhere that people have asked Gerald So why The Lineup isn't available as an ebook, and it's because the formatting gets lost in the conversion. And poetry is so much about format. I kind of like the fact that it's only available in print, although I believe you might be able to get a PDF file. ?? It's a chapbook that, in my opinion, captures a very specific time in crime-fiction writing, and I applaud Gerald for his years of dedication to this very special project.

update: The first three issues of The Lineup are available from Lulu.com as PDFs.

Everything you need to know about the Lineup #1, #2, #3, and #4 can be found here:
POETIC JUSTICE PRESS

The Lineup #4 (2011)

Edited by Gerald So with Reed Farrel Coleman, Sarah Cortez, and R. Narvaez

Poems by Ken Bruen, Michael Casey, Reed Farrel Coleman, David Corbett, Mary Agnes Dalrymple, Mary Christine Delea, Jeanne Dickey, H. Palmer Hall, Paul Hostovsky, David Jordan, Laura LeHew, Thomas Michael McDade, Peter Meinke, Keith Rawson, Chad Rohrbacher, Stephen Jay Schwartz, Nancy Scott, Kieran Shea, J.D. Smith, J.J. Steinfeld, John Stickney, Caitlin Elizabeth Thomson, Randall Watson, Charles Harper Webb, Steve Weddle, Germaine Welch

As you can see, The Lineup #4 has...well, a great lineup of writers/poets. I hesitate to single anyone out, but I especially enjoyed Paul Hostovsky's Stealing the Bowling Shoes.

I thought I'd end with my contribution to last year's Lineup #3.

Home

Sun sinks behind barren trees
Temperature drops to twenty below
The dogs know the way

The sled moves silently over
A broken path, cut that morning
Through northern wilderness

The distracted moon reveals a frigid landscape
An eerie glow as harnesses jingle like dull bells
The dogs know the way

Lamp in the window
Barks of excitement
A final sprint for home

No vocal command
Their master unmoving, one small hole between his eyes
The dogs know the way

WHAT I'M READING

2011-04-12T06:21:00.000-09:30

Last week I read The Story of Beautiful Girl by Rachel Simon (pub date: May 4) and loved it. I would give it a 5 out of 5 stars.

It has an interesting structure, moving back and forth between central characters while covering a large passage of time. Rachel Simon did a fantastic job of weaving everything together while opening up the story to reveal the importance of earlier clues.

Here is a description from the Hachette website:

It is 1968. Lynnie, a young white woman with a developmental disability, and Homan, an African American deaf man, are locked away in an institution, the School for the Incurable and Feebleminded, and have been left to languish, forgotten. Deeply in love, they escape, and find refuge in the farmhouse of Martha, a retired schoolteacher and widow. But the couple is not alone-Lynnie has just given birth to a baby girl. When the authorities catch up to them that same night, Homan escapes into the darkness, and Lynnie is caught. But before she is forced back into the institution, she whispers two words to Martha: "Hide her." And so begins the 40-year epic journey of Lynnie, Homan, Martha, and baby Julia-lives divided by seemingly insurmountable obstacles, yet drawn together by a secret pact and extraordinary love.

Hachette Book Group

author website

I DIDN'T KNOW THAT

2011-04-10T10:51:00.001-09:30

I had no idea you could add VIEW to a blogger URL (shall we call it Earl?)for dynamic views of blogs. If you're like me and didn't know about this, you do have to make sure your settings are right and dynamic enabled or something like that. It's kind of cool because you can easily see posts going back years.
I'm not sure of the benefit of such a thing other than fun, but there might be one.
DYNAMIC VIEWS

I'd briefly thought of taking both my website and blog to Wordpress, but I've given up that idea and am sticking with Blogger and my website-building for idiots. I'm messing around with my Blogger header, so it might continue to change off and on until I'm happy with it.

FILE UNDER NONFICTION

2011-04-06T05:03:00.001-09:30

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day and he was telling me a story I'd heard years ago. I laughed just as hard this time, so I started thinking about how tough it is to translate real-life humor into writing. It's not just a case of you had to be there, because the verbal teller can work the story for years and years. But when you try to write it down, it feels flat and lifeless.

Emotional replays often work better in text, so why is humor so tough?

Here's a little experiment. This is a bit of the conversation I had the other day, but I'm not sure the humor holds up in this form. This is just the beginning of the story. It goes on and on. It might help to know that Mark is a burly farmer.

Mark:

We’re standing in the mall, and there’s this display of shoes at the front of a store. My wife picks up a cowboy boot and looks it over, then she hands it to me and says, “Put this on.”

I check the size and see it’s an eight. I wear a ten. Sometimes eleven. “This won’t fit,” I say, and start to put the boot back on the table.

“Put it on!”

“It’s an eight.”

“It’s on sale!”

I’ve seen that look a million times, so I sit down on this padded seat, take off my right shoe, just to show her that I can’t even get my foot all the way in the boot.

“Put it on! Force your foot in there. Just shove it in there! Shove!”

“Can’t. It’s too small.”

“It’s on sale!”

If you know Darlene, you know she won’t take no for an answer, so I cram my foot in there, mash it in there, and my toes are layered one on top of the other.

“Too small,” I gasp, grimacing in pain.

“Walk,” she commands.

I hobble around, and my toes are screaming.

“That’s a nice-looking cowboy boot,” she says.

“It’s too small,” I tell her.

I tug off the boot, and my toes pop back. I’m tying my sneaker when I look up and there she is, standing at the counter, paying for the damn boots!

Then she’s aiming herself at me, handing me the bag. “Put them on. Wear them home.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“Put them on.”

So I sit back down and shove my feet into the boots. I wonder how in the hell I’ll be able to stand, but I’m finally upright. Then, like a baby learning to walk, I hobble out. My knees are bent, and my feet feel like balls.

“Hurry up!” she says, looking at her watch. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What the hell do you think?”

As I hobble to the car, she keeps casting glances at me and my new cowboy boots.

“Those look so nice,” she says, beaming.

“They’ll look a helluva lot nicer once there off my damn feet.” I’m looking forward to hiding them in the back of the closet. Maybe burning them.

“You should wear them all the time. Whenever we go to town.”

“All the time? I need a wheelchair to wear these.”

“They look nice.”

“They’re killing me.” My elbows are sticking out, but my legs are finally straight. My body is already figuring out how to walk without toes and it's like walking on stilts.

“They were on sale,” she says.

“What does that have to do with anything? There were adult diapers on sale back there, but I’m not forcing you to wear them.”

She glares at me. You know Darlene.

WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?

2011-04-03T08:59:00.000-09:30

It's been a busy few weeks, and I'm finally getting caught up. Went to NYC. Got home. Edited galleys. Shipped galleys. Got sick. Cold. Asthma. Found my old inhaler with expiration date of 2006. Used it. Got better. Once Upon a Crime book signing yesterday in Minneapolis. Lovely dinner last night with writer friends. Back home. Corpse Kitty wouldn't let me sleep in. Relax...

One thing I keep wondering: Does it make sense to blog? It seems that most of the people who read my blog follow me on Facebook, so I wonder if blogging is redundant. But the big advantage to blogging is that the posts don't vanish or roll off the page in a matter of minutes. But Facebook is just so much faster. And feels less formal. And people can share what you post. And people are more likely to comment. So I don't know.

But anyway, here's a bit of my New York trip that I posted on Facebook a while back but am now posting here. And I'm not even going to try to catch people up, just drop you in the middle of a scene. Because I'm lazy that way.

The cocktail party: the CEO of Hachette introduced all four authors, me, Joel Salatin, an organic farmer, Jerry West, NBA star, and Lemony Snicket. Then the publisher of Grand Central introduced me. So glad I was up first. So nervous for days, but once I was up there, I wasn't nervous at all. But definitely one of the weirdest evenings of my life. It felt like I was in a Truman Capote movie. Not In Cold Blood, but Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Almost all of attendees had already read my book. (I thought I was supposed to tell them about it!) When I was finished, I sat down next to my editor. She handed me her glass of wine which I promptly chugged. Next speaker was Joel. I finally calmed down by the time Jerry West spoke. He's written an autobiography that will be out in Oct. I really want to read it. Then Lemony Snicket. He and his illustrator were droll and charming and hilarious. He shared a baked apple recipe with me that I must try. A peeled, cored apple and Tab. Their book comes out in about a year. It's a compilation of worst (or best) breakup stories. I'm sure it will be hilarious.

Before the event: Met my editor for lunch where we ate sushi and talked. (Hadn't met her before.) Then she took me to see the publishing house which was basically across the street. Super modern glass building with a very sleek, Swedish look with pale floors and walls and pale wood. Very crisp and orderly. I had to show an ID at a desk, get a photo taken before I could pass through a certain area. Elevators require a code and don't respond until you type in the code. then the box will show which elevator you should stand in front of, A - J. Elevator won't respond until it detects you in front of designated door.

Day after event: I met my agent for breakfast in a cafe attached to Grand Central Station. Once we were done, she invited me to see the Century Association. I had no idea what she was talking about, but soon I was following her through Grand Central Station and out into the street and right in the middle of the St. Patrick's Day chaos. OMG. OMG. We lost each other several times. Streets were closed. Green drunks shoulder to shoulder, shouting in unison for no apparent reason. Finally made it to the Century Association, a club that is basically for the artistic elite of NYC. Walls were lined with paintings of members old and new. Winslow Homer. Teddy Roosevelt. First edition books from floor to ceiling. Can't even describe it, but you can find a bit about it on Wikipedia.

Now somewhere in this chaos was my daughter. I was supposed to catch up with her so we could visit Central Park. OMG again. And I have to mention how glad I was that she came with me. I can't imagine trying to navigate NYC for the first time in my life without having her along. We finally found each other in Central Park. She'd spent the past few hours trying to escape the crazy green people, so we were both wiped out and had probably walked miles by that point. But it was a gorgeous day! In the seventies!

No restrooms. A gazillion people in the streets, and no portable toilets anywhere. Restrooms in Central Park were locked. So we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and and paid $15 to pee. While we were there, we checked out Guitar Heroes and some mummies.

And then the train ride back to the hotel. Another OMG Really, I just wanted to laugh. The trains were so packed that the doors wouldn't shut because asses were hanging out. I mean real asses. And the people would stand there blank-faced while the door continued to close and open on their butts.

WRITE OF SPRING # 9

2011-03-30T04:27:00.002-09:30

WRITE OF SPRING No. 9
SATURDAY, APRIL 2
noon until 4:00
ONCE UPON A CRIME
604 W. 26th St. Mpls.
612-870-3785

From Pat and Gary at Once Upon a Crime:

It's beginning to look a lot like Spring, and there's lots to celebrate, so we're throwing a party! We're approaching our 24th year anniversary (on Friday April 1st - seriously), we'll be off to the Edgar Awards Banquet to receive our Raven Award later this month (April 28th), and between the two, we have an incredible lineup of authors heading our way.

We're kicking off the month (and don't forget Brian Freeman tonight, and C.J. Box Thursday night) with our annual author open house: The Write of Spring. Most of you are familiar with it - it's a wonderful way to relieve your cabin fever. This year's slate has 50 authors and honored guests. Attached is a printable schedule. Lots of local authors to meet, from award winners and nominees, debut authors and seasoned best sellers...something for everyone and every taste. We'll even have a few pre-release sneak previews of upcoming books. Plus give-aways, lemonade, and cookies! So check out the attached flyer, or visit our website www.onceuponacrimebooks.com for more information.

Thanks for a great 24 years!
Pat & Gary

MONSANTO AND GENETICALLY MODIFIED CROPS

2011-03-07T08:22:00.007-09:30

Huffington Post article on Monsanto's Roundup Ready crops and animal miscarriages

APPLES

2011-03-04T13:27:00.008-09:30

It's been a busy couple of weeks. Hardly any time to blog or tweet. I'm being vain, wishing my hair didn't look horrible because I'm flying to New York to meet my editor and various people in the publishing house. Hopefully have a drink with my wonderful agent and hug her hard. And I have to give a five minute talk at an event. Last year's speaker was Tina Fey. No pressure. For someone who rarely does readings and hardly ever steps out of my writing cave...well, this could be interesting.

I've been around long enough to know how unusual all of this is, and I'm not sure I'm ever going to grasp going from being unable to get anyone to even read The Orchard to what is beginning to look like some pretty major backing. The good news keeps coming. I try not to get my hopes up, and yet at the same time I tell myself I might as well enjoy the sense of anticipation no matter what happens down the road. The best time is often before the book comes out. Like waiting for Christmas.

The cover is beautiful. The back is beautiful too. A red apple. Genius!

I had to shut off the comment section because of spam. I'll probably turn it back on for a couple of days after each new post, then shut it down again.

THE INTRODUCTORY ESSAY

2011-02-21T05:14:00.008-09:30

Sometimes an agent will ask for an essay to include with a manuscript submission. It's usually a short explanation of why this book, why now. I think the personal introduction has become more popular in these tough publishing times and it's utilized for both fiction and nonfiction. If done correctly, it can set up the book and trigger an editor's interest.

This is the essay I wrote for The Orchard:

May 2010

I spent years dreaming about writing The Orchard, but I knew switching from genre writing, my only means of support, to memoir, would be a financial risk. I constantly talked about the project as something that would happen in the future, while worrying that the opportunity to write it might come too late, or might never come at all.

When I suddenly found myself with no deadline and no contract to fulfill, I made one of those big life decisions. If I sold my home in St. Paul and purchased a tiny cabin in the north woods, I might be able to live on the proceeds from the sale for two or three years. It was a huge gamble, but it would give me the solitude and freedom to write The Orchard.

I sold the house and began looking for a secluded place to write. In an odd twist, my real estate agent had a listing he thought I should see, but it was located nowhere near my search area. Another negative—it was located in farm country, a landscape and culture I’d avoided since moving from the farm. How could I possibly live in a farming area again? Ignorant of my history, the agent talked me into looking. Just looking.

The property was a prairie-style church built in the late 1800s in a now non-existent village called Perley Station. Perley Station was the brainchild of a lumber baron, philanthropist, and horticulturalist named John Perley. In 1905 the village burned to the ground, and the only thing left in the middle of fields, woodland, and prairie, was a church. And that church was selling for the price of a cabin in the north woods.

I still questioned whether I could immerse myself mentally and physically in a setting that brought back so many painful memories, but in the end I bought the church and moved to a remote and beautiful building in a town that no longer existed.

The church studio is surrounded by Perley Lilacs, courtesy of Mr. Perley’s horticultural skill.

In the backyard is an apple tree. As I write this, the tree is loaded with blooms, and I’m anticipating the apple pies I will bake this fall.

I like to imagine that the tree was planted by John Perley. I don’t know if this is truth, but I can say the tree is very old, and it doesn’t have many years left.

In this setting, surrounded by history and farm fields, an apple tree just beyond my window, I wrote The Orchard. The writing of the book, the farm fields that I walk past daily, noting what has been planted and how well the crops are doing, have led to a reclaiming of a life I left behind.

KICK ME

2011-02-19T06:08:00.004-09:30

I wrote romance for thirteen years, but it wasn’t until I changed my name to Frasier and started writing suspense that the snickers stopped. Really. The change was night and day. From ridicule to respect. Romance-friendly venues and bookstores were the only places a romance writer could go and not be treated poorly. After thirteen years of being looked down on, it was refreshing to walk away from that and start over. I remember taking ARCs of Hush (Frasier) to bookstores expecting the same old reaction. But no, I was treated as a legitimate writer! It was like finding and removing the kick-me sign from my back. So I’m experiencing anxiety over returning to the Weir name because it rarely elicited a positive response outside the romance world. I’m reluctant to let go of the Frasier name because I associate it with validation. So weird. Both are the same person, and yet they don’t feel the same at all, but I think that’s more about public perception of the two names rather than anything internal.

Of course it makes sense to use my real name, and even though The Orchard is considered literary memoir, I drew from those old romance roots when writing it. It's kind of a twisted romance.

I've seen a mockup cover of The Orchard and I hope to have the final version to show off soon!

STOP AND SMELL THE ROSE-COLORED GOGGLES

2011-02-02T06:59:00.005-09:30

It’s all been said before. A hundred times, a thousand times, and yet my mind circles back to the same topics, the same concerns, the same thoughts. I worry that writers are putting the cart before the horse. I worry that they aren’t spending enough time on the craft of writing. I’m guilty. When I first started blogging in about 2003ish, my writing time dropped to almost zero. I often wonder if I would have written my first book if the Internet had existed back then, but that’s another topic for maybe another day or never.

Writing is all about time.

There are no shortcuts.

I’ve been writing for thirty years (what?), and I still have so much to learn. You never get there, you never reach that place where you can sit back and say this is how it’s done, now I know and I can go forward and do it. The uncertainties are always there. You do this, then you close your eyes and open them again to see how it looks. You rearrange. You toss out, and start over. (But too much tossing out is another form of procrastination. Anything can be fixed.)

Four years. That’s what I think it takes. Four years of writing every day, submitting, getting feedback, revising, rewriting, starting a new project, putting an old one under the bed, pulling it out again, seeing the mistakes you made when you were young and foolish three months ago.

It’s hell. Especially for a lazy person like me.

A bachelor’s degree takes four years. And then you might go on to get your masters and a Ph.D.

Time. You have to invest the time. There are no shortcuts.

“I just lost my job and need to learn how to write a book fast. Where do I begin? I need to start making money in a couple of months.”

Yes, I get emails like this. But I’m not talking about this person.

And yet it is about him, because this is about time. The more time you spend learning the craft of writing, the better your writing will be. The more time you spend writing that book, the better it will be. As simple as that.

I grew up in the world of romance writing. In the eighties and nineties there was a real push by editors, agents, and writers to get books out as quickly as possible. Publishing houses noticed the writers with the biggest readerships were also the writers with the most books published in a year. So it turned into quantity over quality. Some writers could do both, but not many. We were always thinking about the next book before we even finished the current project. We didn’t have the luxury of time.

It took me a while to get myself out of that mindset, and I think a lot of genre writers are still struggling to step back and give themselves permission to make their current project the best it can be. We didn’t grow up like that. We wrote it in a few months and we mailed it in, very often with no feedback from anyone. Maybe take a day off before jumping into the next book, always that need to hurry, hurry, hurry.

Part of it is just age. I can’t write with that kind of intensity and fervor and drive anymore. I want to enjoy writing. I want to savor it. And sometimes I do.

FORGET ME NOT

2011-01-22T13:04:00.006-09:30

Here's a weird thing I've come across a few times when writing memoir.

I have a memory that I feel must be inaccurate.

Example:

I'm currently writing a wedding scene. I feel my brother must have been there, but I have absolutely no memory of his being there. Zero. So my feeling is to write the scene without him. This is my memory, after all. But it's highly possible he was there. I could ask him. And he might confirm that he was there, but would that matter? When I have no memory of his being there? Is memoir all about writing it the way you remember it? I think it is.

IT'S WHAT'S INSIDE THAT COUNTS

2011-01-17T15:24:00.006-09:30

I'm posting about memoir writing, but most of what I say can be applied to fiction. The one thing I really noticed about memoir is that much of it is internal. You write the scene, then you DIG DIG DIG. DEEP. You find yourself in that scene, and you react and analyze the events that unfold. So, on the surface, you might have a scene that's not that exciting -- until you put yourself in it, and by that I mean let us know what you think about the events. Let us feel the emotion of the scene. And yes, this applies to fiction. This seems to be one of the last things writers learn to do: let their characters process the event, feel the event. And yet this is an important layer when you're creating a piece of art. Emotion.

ON THE WAY TO MEMOIR

2011-01-14T13:37:00.003-09:30

When I first started writing fiction I didn’t know any other writers and I didn’t know of any writers groups or organizations. I’d never taken a creative writing class, and I’d never read a book about writing. As far as education went, I managed to finish high school. That was it. So I pretty much taught myself to write. Well, I’m sure all of the books I’d read up until that point taught me to write. What I did was I wrote until something looked right and felt right. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I seemed to have some instinct about the process. But it involved a lot of trial and error. Write something, come back, throw it out or pat myself on the back. Repeat. Writing the memoir reminded me of those early days of writing, because once again I had to teach myself something completely new and it took a lot of trial and error.

I’m not advising this route. If I’d gone to college, if I’d taken writing classes, I would have gotten from there to hear a helluva lot faster. But I do think my stumbling around in the dark may have helped in some odd way. Like maybe helped me find my own voice. Or not. I’m now working on a second memoir, and this second time around is a lot easier because I’ve learned some basics.

What I learned when writing memoir #1:

Don’t throw everything in the pot. I thought I needed to tell everything because I was writing nonfiction. No. It’s okay to leave things out even when dealing with a single event. In fact, it’s often necessary. This isn’t an autobiography, it’s a memoir. A slice of life. If something doesn’t fit the theme and the trajectory, it doesn’t belong.

It’s okay to focus on one or two emotions. Events have a lot of moods and emotions to them, and at first I tried to tell them all. This diluted the story. I finally came to realize that I had to focus on one or two things and forget the rest.

Focus on a few character traits. Just like fiction, you want to define your characters clearly, and if you focus on too many conflicting traits it confuses the reader. Most people are bad and good, but it’s very hard to portray that kind of character depth. I would run into situations and scenes where a person might be an asshole one day and an angel the next. Or even an asshole and angel in the same scene. People are like that. But when writing a condensed version of an event, I had to decide which part of that person I wanted to portray in that particular scene. Hero or coward, angel or devil.

You can’t tell it all. If you do, you begin to sound like some gossip or some kid standing in front of class giving a book report. And then this happened, and then this happened. Oh, but wait. Offstage this was taking place, which led to this and led to this and led to this.
Cut.

Memoir should be a piece of beautiful art. It’s that one photo that perfectly captures the mood of the day. It’s a painting that reflects the color of life at that particular moment. It’s a single blue egg in a nest. It’s a dirt road on a hot summer day. It’s a desert sky, or the haze over a field of corn.

You are an important part of the story. This is a big one. I thought I was the lens, but I finally came to realize that people want to experience what I experienced. That’s why they’re reading a memoir. Don’t leave yourself out of the story.

I learned a lot more, but that’s all for now.

KINDLE SALES

2010-12-30T08:50:00.004-09:30

There's been a lot of online chatter about Kindle sales figures, so I decided to post mine. Not sure this will help anyone because there are so many variables. One big thing to keep in mind: I do zero promotion, and that probably impacts my figures. I decided to spend my time writing and working on new material rather than focusing on my backlist. Another thing to note is that my reissues contain errors. I don't think they contain a lot, but they aren't error-free. The professionally formatted books have errors, the books I formatted myself have errors, the pirated copies have errors. Doesn't seem to matter. Yes, I downloaded pirated copies of my books and put them on Amazon. Thank you, pirates. But please try to do a better job of formatting next time.

FYI: The cleanest is probably PLAY DEAD, which I edited and formatted.

DECEMBER SALES:

PREVIOUS SIX WEEKS:

Do you have ebooks available on Amazon?

Please consider leaving your sales figures in the comment area. I'd really like to see writers come forward about their sales, especially those writers who have only sold a few copies. Making your backlist available in digital format takes a massive amount of time and can be a big expense. Is it worth it? Anonymous comments are fine!

WHEN FAILURE LEADS TO SUCCESS

2010-12-12T06:12:00.004-09:30

Or thoughts for a Sunday when I'm trapped by the biggest snowfall we've had in a gazillion years...

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
When one door closes, another door opens.
What doesn't kill you makes you meaner, stronger, meaner, tougher, meaner. (Or something like that.)

What do these lovely cliches have in common? I hate them all.

Even if they're kind of true. But today I was thinking about some of the fantastic writers I know who've experienced huge failures only to come out on the other side with major book deals. Some with movie deals. Does failure lead to success? In some cases I think it does. I think artists reach a point where there is nothing to lose. Nothing to risk, because we've already hit bottom. We've already lost everything.

Nowhere to go but up. There's another one. Hate it too.

Cream always rises to the top.

But I do think we develop this screw-you attitude. And also this sense of freedom. My god, the freedom! I'm especially talking about writers who've been dumped by their publishers. Taboo topic! Taboo! Is this a published author's biggest fear? I think it is. And we can't talk about it even though it's always looming.

Elephant in the room.

Once that thing happens that we've worried about from the moment we get up until we go to bed (I used to dream about getting dumped, and would wake up in the middle of an anxiety attack), there's no longer anything at stake. Nobody to please. Nobody leaning over our shoulders, breathing down our necks. Yes, it's terrifying, because there's nobody WRITING CHECKS, but we end up turning to the one person we can trust. Not an editor. Not an agent. Not our friends and family. Not fellow writers. Although all or some of those people are still around to support us.

We turn to ourselves. Through misfortune, we've been given the opportunity to shut off the noise and listen to our own voice for a change. That's where great art comes from.

What is your voice saying?

NO COMMENT

2010-11-22T05:56:00.003-09:30

I'm shutting off the comment section because of spammers. Maybe that's all for the best since I'm trying to cut down on Internet socializing. I love it too much! Working on a new book and have 100 pages written. Should have the complete first draft by March or April. I've always done the bulk of my writing November - May, and winter has definitely arrived with near-zero temps in the forecast.

Have a lovely and safe Thanksgiving!

DANCING WITH MYSELF

2010-11-16T09:27:00.004-09:30

Most interviews consist of the same questions, and when the interview is over I often find myself wishing the interviewer had dug a little deeper. So when Nigel asked if I'd like to interview myself, how could I resist?

Check it out at SEA MINOR.

OPTION MATERIAL

2010-11-09T05:30:00.003-09:30

I've been working on my option material and have hit 65 pages (option proposal can consist of synopsis and three sample chapters.) Contractually, this proposal can't be submitted until 90 days after the first book (The Orchard) has been officially approved, and that won't happen until I receive and follow the edit notes. Once the editor approves my corrections and cuts the check, the 90-day clock starts ticking. If everything goes smoothly, the edited material will be approved in December, which means the earliest I could submit proposal for second memoir would be March 2011. I'll have the first draft of second book done by March, so I might decide to wait and submit the entire thing once it's gone through revisions and a good polish.

I don't even like to look at the contract. PUBLISHERS RIGHT TO TERMINATE always jumps out at me.

Discount Noir available from Untreed Reads

2010-10-22T04:26:00.007-09:30

UNTREED READS/DISCOUNT NOIR

Description:
If you thought standing in line at your local warehouse store was murder, then you haven't been to Megamart. These flash fiction tales of superstore madness and mayhem will make you think twice the next time you hear "clean up on aisle 13."

This anthology contains works by: Patricia Abbott, Sophie Littlefield, Kieran Shea, Chad Eagleton, Ed Gorman, Cormac Brown, Fleur Bradley, Alan Griffiths, Laura Benedict, Garnett Elliot, Eric Beetner, Jack Bates, Bill Crider, Loren Eaton, John DuMond, John McFetridge, Toni McGee Causey, Jeff Vande Zande, James Reasoner, Kyle Minor, Randy Rohn, Todd Mason, Byron Quertermous, Sandra Scoppettone, Stephen D. Rogers, Steve Weddle, Evan Lewis, Daniel B. O'Shea, Sandra Seamans, Albert Tucher, Donna Moore, John Weagly, Keith Rawson, Gerald So, Dave Zeltserman, Dorte Hummelshoj Jakobsen, Jay Stringer, Anne Frasier, Kathleen A. Ryan, Eric Peterson, Chris Grabenstein and J.T. Ellison.

From Co-Editor Patricia Abbott:

In October 2009, my co-anthologist Steve Weddle suggested I use a website that I’ll call The People of Megamart as the inspiration for a flash fiction challenge.

Keeping a blog can be a solipsistic and silly venture, and to combat this tendency, I’ve promoted several communal activities over the years and I have maintained a website. The first was Friday’s Forgotten Books, in which, every Friday, crime and western fiction writers and readers write brief reviews of books they believe to be forgotten.

But since most readers of my blog are short story writers, I decided in February 2008, to issue a flash fiction challenge. (I was far from the first to do so.) This was not a contest but rather an inclusive invitation to write a story of about 800 words and post it on an assigned day. This first challenge was to write a story set on Valentine’s Day. For those without blogs, Aldo Calgano posted stories on his flash zine, Powder Burn Flash. Gerald So helped to advertise the challenge. It was a success and each of the succeeding four challenges drew more entries. Each challenge had its own topic—my favorite being one in which each participant wrote an opening paragraph that was passed on to someone else.

For our sixth challenge, Megamart: I Love You, writers were asked to contribute a story set, or partially set, in a Megamart or Megamart-type store. This topic generated more than thirty stories, all published simultaneously on various blogs on November 30, 2009. Those stories and a few more can be found here. I hope you enjoy them.

Note from Anne: This title will also be available from Amazon, B&N, Smashwords, Scribd, and some other places I can't remember.

Thank you, Patti, Steve, Stacie, and Untreed!!!

Flimsy Excuses

2010-10-13T05:19:00.004-09:30

Excuses for not blogging:

1) I'm under contract and I have to behave. I will. I must. When I'm under contract I understandably feel less free, and that's really the fun of blogging. Just letting it all out. Now I question and second guess everything I write (like this!). No fun. I tend to lean toward Twitter and Facebook simply because I feel less exposed and the format is much less formal. It doesn't feel as permanent, and I don't feel the need to be as professional.

2) I'm working on a second memoir. Yes. Yes. Yes. I'm not ready to go into full writing mode since I want to enjoy the last days of fall, but I'm working. Really.

3) I'm still having neck issues, so the less time I spend on the computer the better.

I don't want to be one of those writers who steps away from her blog only to reappear two months before a book release, suddenly blogging like crazy with one goal in mind: sell the book. I've always blogged as a way to share and gripe. It's therapy for me, but I'm trying very hard to be professional. Not easy for me. BE ADULT. BE ADULT.

On a personal note, I'm now ordained so if you'd like for me to officiate at your wedding, let me know! If you'd like the wedding to be held at my studio/prairie church, it can be arranged. Really.

COVER ART

2010-09-27T04:44:00.006-09:30

I think I may have rounded a corner in my understanding of cover art. I'm still a huge novice, but a few days ago I finally came to understand that the font is more important than the image, and that it's okay to obstruct image with text. But how to create a cover without Photoshop? Not easy, and I'm still using Picasa. Tried to download Gimp, but my computer froze (which never happens!) and I'm afraid to try it again.

I'm excited about this last cover attempt because I think I may have finally come up with something better than the original. Of course a lot of that has to do with the fantastic image in the new version, and the poor quality of the artwork on the original cover. That poorly-drawn man with his skinny lips and swollen neck!

Original Penguin Putnam cover:

My cover design:

An Interview With LK Rigel

2010-09-22T12:24:00.000-09:30

LK Rigel's Space Junque is receiving rave reviews on Amazon. So exciting, especially considering that LK recently joined the brave new world of self-publishing and Space Junque has just come out.

As some of you already know, I had the extremely fun job of editing Space Junque. Back some time ago, I was thinking of starting an editing service and possibly attaching my name to projects that I felt were of high quality. I’ve since become pretty busy with my writing career, but I’m still intrigued with the idea of an editor or writer being a small part of the self-published release. I think one thing self-published books lack is that voice of authority and the understanding that this book has gone through a process of vetting. One way to instill reader confidence would be to include some stamp of approval. I honestly don’t think my name carries enough weight for that, but I’m stamping SJ regardless because it’s a damn fun and fine read.

And now a few questions for LK Rigel:

AF: Could you give us a brief description of Space Junque?

LKR: Space Junque is a paranormal space opera romance, set about eighty years from now when earth metamorphoses into an alternate reality.

At the brink of world-wide catastrophe set off by oil spills, sea level rise, and massive pollution, Char Meadowlark accepts an invitation to the Imperial Space Station from Mike Augustine, her dead sister's fiancé. While Char is in orbit, eco-terrorists set off a planet-wide environmental cataclysm.

Though Mike pressures her for more than friendship, Char can't stop thinking about the man who saved her life, Jake Ardri, the pilot of the shuttle Space Junque. Meanwhile, Char confronts threats normal and paranormal before she can return to the transformed planet where the very survival of the human race is uncertain.

It's a light romantic romp! But, as I like to say, is love even possible in flagrante apocalypto?

AF: I don’t believe you ever considered a traditional publisher for SJ. Could you share your reasoning behind that decision?

LKR: This could take up an entire post. Maybe I'm a lazy narcissist.

AF: Yes, that was certainly a clueless statement, because nobody works harder than the self-published author. And as far as the narcissist comment goes, let me roll my eyes. I think all writers, bloggers, tweeters, facebookers, whatever, are narcissistic to some extent. We live in a narcissistic society.

LKR: The simple answer is: I didn't consider a traditional publisher for Space Junque because I didn't have to.

For an unknown author, querying agents these days is degrading and soul-crushing. If you get to a deal, you give up over 90 percent of the proceeds, have no say on the cover art, and wait another 18 months to publication.

Publishing on Kindle and Smashwords, Space Junque was available to readers three days after the manuscript was ready. I can track my sales in real time. I can choose what promotion I want to do. The story will be available forever. I can price the book reasonably. Instead of 8 percent, I get 70 percent, and I am paid once a month.

Now, I still don't actually "get" 70 percent because I'm paying for quality editing and covers and advertising -- but in this case that expense money is going to promote and improve my book, not the book of my publishing house's current star or the CEO's bonus.

Plus, I get to tell the story I want to tell without forcing it into some commercially proven template.

AF: I have to step in to make a point about traditional publishing. The potential for units sold is much, much higher with a traditional publisher. 8% isn’t bad when you think about the possibility of selling 100,000 copies. Most self-published books will never come close to that number. But I totally understand about agents and queries and wanting to be in control of the whole process.

LKR: Oh, that’s absolutely true.

AF: Space Junque has an amazing cover. How did that come about?

LKR: Isn't that cover wonderful? I found the source images at Bigstock.com and played around with them in Gimp until I had the feel for what I wanted. The result was certainly good enough as a working cover but definitely not done by a pro. The fonts were never right, and it was so dark that you had to turn the screen at a certain angle to see it properly. I sent the cover to Robin at Robin Ludwig Design, and she worked her magic. I love the cover.

AF: The edit was done a little differently. Rather than sending an entire manuscript, you were gracious enough to email me a few chapters at a time because I like to work on small pieces of material. Do you think this helped you in the process, or was it an annoyance?

LKR: I loved doing it that way. First of all, you were able to stop me in my tracks before I ventured too far onto -- shall we say a mistaken path? Getting that feedback on an ongoing basis was invaluable. Also, breaking it down into smaller chunks made the whole process more enjoyable and less overwhelming.

AF: When it comes to DIY publishing, readers sometimes point to quality control issues. You used the services of an editor, a copy editor, and proofreader. Could you lead us through that process?

LKR: I can't stress enough that content editing is not copy editing or line editing. As content editor, Anne, you looked at the story and the gross mechanics or technique involved in telling the story, the pacing, the authenticity, the ideas -- the creative content.

By the time the story is in its final shape, it's too late for the author and the editor to do any decent copy editing or proofreading. They've looked at the words too many times. You need a fresh eye to find the typos, misspelled words (I spell minuscule "miniscule" and Word never catches it). I recommend Cara Wallace for a last look at your ready-to-go manuscript. She's thorough and always right -- even when I disagree with her.

AF: What are your plans for future works?

LKR: Space Junque is the prequel to a series set several generations later on an alternate reality earth. That world is based on a blend of Ancient Near East mythology and Gnostic Christian creation stories -- and also has shapeshifters! The first book, Bleeder, is going through its last run-through before content edits. I hope to have it ready in November. There will be at least three novels set in that world.

I had to cut some events from Space Junque because they didn't fit the arc of the narrative. One event in particular is so delicious that it's screaming to be told, so there will be another novella set in that time period.

Beyond that, who knows? As you can probably confirm, telling stories feels good. Now that I've actually put something out there, I don't think I can stop.

AF: Would you ever consider a traditional publisher?

LKR: Of course! But unless I get the big offer, I don't see traditional publishing in my future. I've had a lot of fun putting out Space Junque, and I don't think I'd be happy giving up control. The traditional model is fantastic for bestsellers and established authors, but I think that train has passed me by.

AF: I don’t think that’s the case. Publishers still love and still promote debut authors.

LKR: I'll tell you what I do dream of: being selected for Amazon's Encore program.

AF: I hope that happens! Thanks for visiting, and best of luck with Space Junque!

Be sure to visit LK's blog for details on how to win an Oberon gift certificate worth $100.00!

orchards and cemeteries

2010-09-17T06:11:00.005-09:30

I've been jotting down a lot of things for my next project. In the process, I sometimes come upon notes that I wrote for previous books, notes that I never used. This is something I found today, written for The Orchard:

And I myself am fooled by time and distance. The photos represent an idyllic life, and I contemplate that life with the eyes of a stranger, feeling the pull of a perfect world.

I want to live there, raise my children there. And then I remember... I did live there. I did raise my children there. And I have to remind myself of the other things, the hidden things.

Orchards and cemeteries feel the same.

BOOK CLUBS

2010-09-15T11:33:00.002-09:30

A few months ago I gave a talk at a local library. When I asked if there were any book clubs in the area, I was told about an interesting one that has been around for over ten years.

Two things I like:

1) They meet in a bar.

2) They don't read an assigned or chosen book. Instead, everyone brings the books they've read in the past month and tells the group about them. They swap books and give away books. They rave about books, and they slam books. I've been to two meetings, and the average number of books discussed in a single meeting is around 30. Not sure how many beers are consumed.

What I've learned about myself:

I will never again read a book as a reader. This is pretty much understood by all authors, but it really hit home for me as I sat among these women who were so passionate about books. Even though I'm a writer, even though I immerse myself in the world of writing almost every waking hour, I felt like an alien in this group of book lovers. Wonderful, interesting, friendly people I felt I had nothing in common with. Isn't that odd? Me? Someone who has been writing for twenty-five years? Someone who started writing because I loved books?

Since the meeting, I've tried to analyze my feeling of alienation. I look at fiction from a totally different perspective. I read to get the feel of a novel and check out the writer's voice. And here is the scary part: I rarely finish a novel unless I'm reading to supply a cover quote. I don't need to read the whole thing, because finding out what happens isn't why I read. I read to check out the book, to get a feel of the author's voice and the mood and tone of the story. Even novels I love go unfinished. Because that sample is all I need to answer my questions.

Will I go to another meeting? I don't think so. It made me a little sad, but I think it was more about a poor fit. I love hanging out with other writers, talking about books, talking about the business, but I can't be a reader. Not even for an evening.

September 2010

2010-09-09T04:52:00.003-09:30

I've had so many blog posts I wanted to write, vacation stories, vacation pictures, but a flare of old neck pain has kept me from blogging. I really need to just stay away from my computer for a while. And I will! But I did want to let people know that LK Rigel's entire novella is now available on Amazon. I hope to post more later (when I'm feeling better), because I think people might be interested in hearing about the editing process and how Linda came to give me editing credit. This is something I've thought about for a while. Editing books, then allowing my name to be used if the end result is something I can get behind.

Space Junque is a fun, smart read, and I really think people will enjoy it. I hesitate to make comparisons, but I think it has a bit of a Firefly vibe to it.

Space Junque

The image at the top of my blog post? Nothing to do with anything. :) I just like it.

temporary cover

2010-08-30T10:20:00.008-09:30

update 9/3/10: You can find the final temporary cover to the left (finalized with input from the publisher). Not sure if this is just a placeholder, or a design we will end up using for the actual cover. It will need a tweak and polish if we use it for real. At Killer Cocktails, information about the book will be in a brochure that is handed out to booksellers, media, book buyers, reviewers. Along with the cover image, I put together a short blurb that includes the names of all of the contributors, so it's good publicity for everyone involved! Last year was the first Killer party. I didn't attend, but I heard it went over very well and everyone enjoyed it, so I'm really looking forward to going this year! What to wear... What to wear...

I'm putting together some promo stuff for Killer Cocktails, a party that kicks off the Midwest Bookseller Association trade show. Too early to have a cover for the Halloween anthology, but I'm trying to come up with something that would work as a temporary cover.

short stories

2010-08-21T09:53:00.002-09:30

Several years ago I was invited to be a part of a short-story anthology, and I reluctantly declined. I'd never written a short story before, and the idea terrified me. Didn't know if I could manage that kind of distilled writing. About a year later, I was invited to submit to the Once Upon a Crime anthology, and I said I'd try. I cheated a bit, because I actually expanded a flash fiction piece I'd already written.

Since then, I've written about eight short stories, and with each one I think I get a little closer to getting it right.

I don't know the specific rules for short stories other than a length of 1000 - 3000 words, but I do know what I like.

The circle. In my mind, the perfect short story looks like a circle. It circles back to the beginning. Most of my stories don't circle back, but I'm working on it.

A complete story. Unlike flash fiction, I think the best short stories feel complete. Even one thousand words. I want to feel that it's a whole story, beginning, middle, end. This is another thing I'm working on, because mine sometimes feel like a slice of life. A little window. And that can be wonderful too, but not as wonderful as the complete story.

Surprise and delight. I think a really good short story ends with a bang. This can be achieved with a twist, a revelation, humor, emotion. Close on the highest note. Again, I may have achieved this in a couple of my stories, but not all of them.

I'm sure there are guidelines for short-story writing, but I've never read any. Maybe I should. Or not. Any advice for writing short stories?

How can I blog when I have nothing to bitch about?

2010-08-16T10:53:00.004-09:30

I refuse to say things are going well, because those words could set off a string of bad. So I won't say it. Instead, I will talk about the wonderful movie I rented through Netfix.

Sweet Land

I wanted to attend the limited showing in Minneapolis, but couldn't make it. I vowed to rent it when it became available on Netflix, then promptly forgot it existed. So the other day I was going through indie films. What's this? It sounds intriguing. Oh, wait! I wanted to see that a few years ago. I think some of my poor memory can be explained by the totally forgettable title. One of those titles that leaves no imprint on your brain, so you can't even recall it the next day. But anyway, title aside, a lovely film. Gorgeous film, gorgeous cinematography with music that was perfect. Perfectly cast. Not a lot of plot, but that didn't matter. Too much plot would have gotten in the way. I loved this so much that I plan to rent it AGAIN. Definitely the best movie I've seen in quite a long time. But I do have a soft spot for distilled rural American stories set in the 1900s. And it also echoes my memoir, a familiar story of the land, the passage of time, and two people who hardly know each other. I think the last indie I was this passionate about was Wisconsin Death Trip, also a visual delight.

Sweet Land

When the past informs the future

2010-08-07T08:58:00.003-09:30

Back in the early nineties I wrote a proposal that my agent rejected. It was one of those books of the heart, something I really wanted to write. The proposal was three chapters and a long synopsis, plus artwork. It went something like this:

Setting: rural farm
Main characters: female who’d moved away, became an investigative reporter, had a baby, got divorced, developed cancer. Story opens with her in remission, returning to the farming community to rest. She ends up attending funeral of old male friend whose father just died. The male friend draws the wrath of the community because of his stand against pesticides. The two join forces to expose some dirty doings, thus endangering their lives. Murder! Love! A cute toddler! Danger! And more!

My agent turned it down, and I was devastated. Just stunned and shocked, my spirit crushed. Because the story had meant so much to me, and had come from my heart and my life. Fiction, but I was drawing from everything around me. That was the first time my agent flat-out refused to submit. He suggested I work on something lighter. So I put together a proposal for Cool Shade, which is kind of a dark comedy. This was my option material, and the publisher turned it down. They said they were looking for something darker and more mature from me, maybe a story of a divorced woman facing some kind of hardship. Hmm. Sounded a bit familiar, but with the rejection of the option material, the relationship with that publisher was over.

And this is the thing.

I’ve moved several times since writing the agent-rejected proposal, and in later years I’ve come across that proposal while packing. And every time I’m struck by how good it is. And I came to finally understand that it was by far the best thing I’d written during that period of my career, but it took years for me to be able to see it for more than a failed piece of shit.

So when I turned in The Orchard and my agent said it didn’t work for him and it would never work for him, I remembered that other story, a story that was similar in tone, the one I later realized was good. That knowledge led to my decision to move on and try to find another agent. Because I knew we’d made a mistake fifteen years earlier. I knew he could be right this time, but I couldn’t take the chance.

I’d been with my agent for twenty years. He’s a fantastic agent and he made a lot of really good moves for me, so I was out of my mind with the thought of having to leave him. And after leaving him, I made a poor decision, but it was brief and I now have a wonderful agent who is a treasure. OMG. So amazing. But the problem is, you just don’t know until you are in the relationship. You just don’t know. And I keep thinking that if I hadn’t had that earlier disappointment accompanied by the later revelation, I probably wouldn’t have moved on and The Orchard would just be another manuscript to come upon every time I pack and unpack.

I don’t know why I’m rambling about this. Just something that’s been on my mind. I guess it underscores just how without sense and how almost chaotic this business is. How even some of the sharpest people aren’t right all of the time.

Space Junque by LK Rigel

2010-08-01T06:47:00.003-09:30

I don't know how editors do it. Editing a full manuscript. It's so intense and physically demanding. Just so much work, so much sitting, so much peering into a tiny screen and trying to read your own edits in a tiny little edit bubble. For me, a freelance manuscript edit takes 30 - 40 hours, and I try to complete it in a week or less. So physically demanding. When I write, I'm up and down all day long. Write a paragraph, wander away from computer. Jot something down on paper. Figure out what I want to do next. Go type it. I'm not really that attached to the computer throughout the process.

So anyway, to get to the point, and I do have one, I've really enjoyed working with LK Rigel on a couple of projects. For several reasons, one being that she's a great writer and a joy to work with. (Linda is a contributor to the Halloween anthology coming out September, 2011). Another thing -- she sends me about twenty pages at a time. The magic number for me! I love doing a content edit on these small sections. I'm a sprinter.

You can find the first two chapters of Space Junque on Smashwords. Free! Check it out!

A VERY ROUGH SYNOPSIS OF A BOOK THAT WON'T BE WRITTEN

2010-07-23T03:52:00.011-09:30

I sometimes get emails from people who want to know what happened to the third book of the Tuonela series, and they especially want to know what happens to the characters. And the baby! What about the baby?

My old publisher wasn't interested in a third book, and I seriously doubt I'll ever write it, so I decided to post this rough synopsis. Keep in mind that I write a horrible synopsis. This was more an outline written for my own benefit, and much of it won't make sense if you didn't read Pale Immortal or Garden of Darkness.

FYI: Digital versions of Pale Immortal and Garden of Darkness can be purchased through Smashwords.

THE NIGHTBIRDS
Synopsis
Book 3 in the Tuonela series

Every tattoo tells a story. Of the land of the dead and the nightbirds. Of Michael Fontaine’s upcoming death.
Michael began tattooing himself in his early twenties. Now his body is a story of the past and the future, the story of Old Tuonela and new Tuonela, of dark events yet to unfold. "Don't love me," he tells women. Not because he won’t stick around, not because he isn’t interested, but because he knows his days are numbered.

Evan Stroud and Rachel Burton have at last found happiness and are living a relatively normal existence in spite of Evan’s disease and his allergy to sunlight. But Evan and Rachel’s newfound fragile relationship is built on unstable ground. Evan has more than a disease -- he is part revenant and part Pale Immortal, and he keeps his dark side suppressed with drugs. Rachel is in denial about her own lineage and their baby’s aversion to light.

Evan’s father moved back to Florida, and Evan and Rachel have returned to the house in Tuonela, the house on Benefit Street. Alastair Stroud’s job as Chief of Police was filled by a young outsider named Michael Fontaine.

One evening Evan and Rachel go out for dinner. Upon returning home, they find the sitter dead and their baby kidnapped.

After baby Aiden was born, Evan and Rachel discussed leaving Tuonela to start over in a new town with new names so the baby could have a normal life. But in the end they decided the child was safest in Tuonela where everybody understood their situation and for the most part accepted it. Wrong decision.

Graham Stroud and his girlfriend Isobel are touring prospective colleges when Graham gets the news that Aiden has been kidnapped. He drops everything and returns home to Tuonela.

Police Chief Michael Fontaine has secrets of his own. He spends his evenings tattooing his flesh with the visual story of Old Tuonela, a story that his police uniform hides. From the time he was a small child he drew pictures of people he didn’t know and a place he’d never seen. When he got older he apprenticed under a tattoo artist and began tattooing his collection of images on his own flesh. Research finally placed his family in the area of Old Tuonela at the time of the mass exodus, and he realized the images and people were from that dark past. And he suspects he might be a descendent of the Pale Immortal, descendents he calls nightbirds. Outsiders, lost souls who walk in two worlds.
How many of them are there?

Kidnappers leave clues and ransom notes, but they are nothing more than false leads meant to keep any remaining legitimate police tied up with misinformation. Aiden is safe and alive, hidden underground, below Tuonela.
Fontaine is active in the investigation, but Rachel doesn’t trust him. Not only is he an outsider, she senses that he has secrets. Dark, deep secrets, and she even suspects that he may have been involved in the kidnapping.
But Fontaine is innocent.

The mayor of Tuonela is behind the kidnapping and murder. He knows the baby is the offspring of a revenant and the great granddaughter of the Pale Immortal himself, and he knows the child is the key to a race of immortal beings. He’s convinced he’s doing what’s best for the child and what’s best for the town. He’s hiding the baby from darker powers while a team performs tests on the infant hoping to unlock the secret to their own immortality.

Tuonela corruption runs deep. The mayor and his helpers fake the infant’s death with the body of a dead baby they’ve robbed from a grave. Many of the townspeople are in league with the major, and by switching DNA they are able to “prove” that the dead infant is Evan and Rachel’s child. At the funeral the mayor tells the grief-stricken couple that they must move on, and that they can have more children. Evan refuses to accept that the child is gone, lunges for the mayor, but is stopped by the sunlight.

Evan, who belongs more to the land of the dead than the land of the living, controls his darker cravings with the constant sedation of powerful drugs. The kidnapping and death of his child sends him spiraling into despair. The drugs are abandoned and he becomes the one he has always feared becoming – the Pale Immortal. Even his love for Rachel isn’t enough to save him this time. He vanishes into the darkness, and his shadowy form is spotted along country roads and in the heart of Tuonela. The townspeople are terrified and no one remains on the street after the sun goes down.

Kristin Blackmoore came to town for the funeral, and ends up drawn to Michael Fontaine. She spends the night with him, but doesn’t see his tattoos because he insists upon having sex in the dark. She has died more than once in her young life, and something about Fontaine speaks to the part of her that has experienced the other side.

In the morning, Fontaine is dressed in his uniform when Kristin wakes up. But as his fingers nervously hurry over shirt buttons, she catches a glimpse of black ink and he finally lets her see what his clothes have been hiding. Skin as art. Skin as history.
Every tattoo tells a story….

Rachel begins to feel uneasy and distrustful of the DNA test results, and asks that her child’s body be exhumed. When she can’t get permission, she and Graham dig up the infant’s body in the middle of the night. She takes DNA samples, sends them to the lab, and discovers that the baby is no relation. Which gives her hope that her child is still alive.

She tries to find Evan to tell him the news. She can feel him watching her in the woods. He attacks. The information about the baby means nothing to him. He is no longer Evan but some mad creature. Rachel escapes, and once home she begins to plot how she can catch Evan. It will take light and restraints. A cage to lock him up.
Evan is no longer Evan, but a being very close to the Pale Immortal. He attacks a young girl and is arrested and put in jail by Michael Fontaine.

Fontaine has very little space left on his body, but he adds one final tattoo – this of a dying man with nightbirds above him, waiting to carry him off.
Fontaine discovers the mayor is behind the kidnapping. He knows he can trust very few in Tuonela, so he decides to enlist Evan’s help. Unsure if drugs will subdue Evan’s darker side, he sedates him and waits for signs of a change.
Could this new person be the old Evan? Or evil in disguise? Fontaine takes the chance. He and Evan rescue the baby, but Fontaine is killed, his premonition coming true. The mayor and his henchmen are arrested.

When Fontaine’s body is on a slab in the morgue, Rachel discovers the tattoos. The history of Old Tuonela. The great exodus. The birth of her child. Fontaine’s death.
And people. Many other people. The undead. The nightbirds.

Every tattoo tells a story.

Evan will write the history and the truth of Tuonela. It is time. All secrets will be revealed. And more people like Fontaine will come, looking for answers, looking for their roots.
And many will stay.

Author’s note:
If you are someone fortunate or unfortunate enough to find Tuonela on a map—and if you go there—you might really be returning home. You might be a descendant of the Pale Immortal.

You Don't Complete Me

2010-07-19T08:34:00.002-09:30

A lot of people have asked me what I'm working on now that the memoir sold. Good question. I've been vacillating between another memoir and literary suspense. Can't decide, but leaning a little more toward another memoir, one that would focus on growing up in southern New Mexico during the Vietnam war, the setting a town located between Roswell and White Sands Missile range where the first atomic bomb was tested. The story would cover four or five years, kind of a dysfunctional Freaks and Geeks. But I'm having trouble nailing down a main theme. Have some ideas, one would be to focus on people who marry the wrong person, and the reasons behind such destructive decisions and the far-reaching impact such decisions can have. And how children have a tendency to repeat the choices made by their parents, not recognizing the same patterns in themselves. This would also explore the loss of true self that goes along with many relationships.

The suspense involves an injured cop on sabbatical who questions her decision to abandon her true passion to go into law enforcement. While recovering from injuries, she uncovers a mystery from her childhood. (Don't want to go into too much detail here.)

I know it's early, but I"m putting together a blog for The Orchard. Although I guess it's not that early, because galleys will be going out in just about a year. Can't believe that!! Does it look okay? Especially in Internet Explorer? (I have a Mac, so I don't use Explorer.)

The Orchard

THE "UNCOVERED" SHORT FICTION CONTEST

2010-07-14T07:53:00.003-09:30

A new writing contest at The Clarity of Night! These contests are always so much fun, and it looks like Jason has really outdone himself this time.

From Jason's blog:

In one mere (less than a week now!) week, the "Uncovered" Short Fiction Contest will open here at the Clarity of Night! It will be my lucky 13th contest!!

And this one is special. (Of course, they all have been.)

We will be welcoming Stephen Parrish and his debut novel, THE TAVERNIER STONES. Stephen is an old salt of the blogosphere, and we're lucky to have him join us in the festivities. The contest theme and photo is inspired by his novel, which opens with the discovery of a 300-year-old corpse holding a massive ruby. Is it one of the lost Tavernier Stones? Are you ready for a treasure hunt??

Because, get this. With the very kind assistance of an anonymous donor who loves writing, the prize pool is downright MASSIVE for this contest. In total, $290 and two signed copies of THE TAVERNIER STONES is on the line. There is a $100 prize for first place alone! Not bad for 250 words, my friends. Not bad at all.

So stay tuned, get thinking, and spread the word. The last contest was huge enough with 237 entries and tens of thousands of visits. You are NOT going to want to sit out on this one.

July 19th. Then 10 days to enter.

The clock is ticking.

Couldn't resist!

2010-07-13T08:18:00.004-09:30

I write like
Jack London

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Oddly enough, this is the second time my writing has been compared to that of Jack London. The first was in a recent review of The Lineup, Poems on Crime. I don't think I've ever read any Jack London.

I CAN'T HEAR YOU

2010-07-12T04:54:00.004-09:30

I use google reader to keep up with blogs, and if your blog has no way to add you to my reader then I'm most likely not reading you. When I first began blogging, I didn't mind visiting blogs, making my daily rounds to see what others were up to. I didn't mind signing up for email updates. I don't do that anymore. Occasionally I'll visit a blog I haven't seen in a while, thinking to add it to my google reader, but I'll then realize no RSS feed exists. Or if it does, I can't find it. If your blog has no way for me to add you to my reader, I'm probably not reading your blog.

Do you use some type of reader to follow blogs? Or do you just drop in on your favorite blogs to see of anything new has been posted?

Smashing!

2010-07-08T11:55:00.005-09:30

My Smashwords stories

When I first started doing this, my Amazon sales were much greater than my Smashwords sales. Well, in fact I had stories sitting at Smashwords for months without any purchases. But now I'm selling four times more at Smashwords. I'm not going to say I'm selling a lot, but I can definitely see a fairly rapid increase. But of course I'm also putting more titles on Smashwords, but for the same title (Pale Immortal) I am now seeing slightly more sales at Smashwords.

I just uploaded Play Dead last night. Have to admit it's my favorite Frasier title. Love Savannah, love spells, love characters who believe in that crazy stuff. My short story in the Once Upon a Crime anthology featured the same characters, and last night I was thinking how I'd love to write another Elise Sandburg, David Gould book. Don't think that will happen, but I'd love to do it.

NODIN PRESS

2010-07-01T04:21:00.015-09:30

Signed the contract for the Halloween anthology!

Yesterday I met with Norton Stillman, the publisher of Nodin Press. If you haven't heard of Norton, you may have heard of The Bookmen, the adored and much missed book distributor. Booksellers loved The Bookmen, and waayyy back in 1988, I bought cases of my books from The Bookmen because Norton and his brother gave booksellers and authors such fantastic deals. Most publishers don't allow writers to resell their books unless purchased through a bookstore or a distributor. The Bookmen gave writers and booksellers such a good deal that writers could actually afford to buy and resell their own titles. But after four decades, The Bookmen were forced out of business. They closed their doors in 2002, and booksellers and writers alike still mourn the loss.

The Bookmen warehouse was turned into lofts.

Nodin Press is located directly across the street from the lofts in the Warehouse District of Minneapolis not far from the new Twins stadium. When I arrived at Nodin, Norton was on the phone, hidden behind the floor-to-ceiling boxes of Nodin Press titles, and a Twins game blared on a radio that wasn't quite tuned to the correct station.

The anthology, which still needs a title, will be released September 2011. We talked about holding signings at Halloween festivals around the state. I'm already excited!

Contributing anthology authors:

Bill Cameron
David Housewright
Jason Evans
J.A. Konrath
Heather Dearly
Julia Buckley
Kelly Lynn Parra
Linda Rigel
Marilyn Victor
Mark Hull
Leandra Logan
Pat Dennis
Patricia Abbott
Paul Brazill
Michael Allan Mallory
Shirley Damsgaard
Stephen Blackmoore
Lance Zarimba
Paula Fleming
Anne Frasier

Story descriptions:

1. J.A. Konrath, Mr. Spaceman

A hooker ends up in an encounter of the strangest kind when her client turns out to be a new-in-town alien who has one thing in mind: making babies.

Joe is one of the funniest people I know, and his humor is evident throughout this delightful story. Laugh-out-loud-funny.

2. Bill Cameron, Sunlight Nocturne

Ex-cop Skin Kadash spends Halloween day building a bat house with his neighbor, four-year-old Danny, while helicopters circle overhead looking for a murderer who might be hiding nearby. This wonderful story skillfully contrasts a lazy fall day with a brutal murder and police search. Bill Cameron writes crime fiction, and is the award-winning author of Lost Dog, Chasing Smoke, and Day One.

3. Pat Dennis, Dead Line

Sibling rivalry and a suburban Halloween decorating contest cause Kate to take a pitchfork to her sister’s yard display. As she dismembers a stuffed goblin, she discovers that her annoying husband needs to be taught a lesson. Pat is a stand-up comic, popular writing instructor, publisher, and published author.

4. Marilyn Victor, The Ogre of Her Dreams

Fledging witch Aurora Piddleworth wants a soulmate, but when she blackmails instructor Olympia Dalrymple into creating the man of her dreams, he turns out to be an ogre who lavishes attention on the young witch and won’t give her a moment’s peace. The spell cannot be undone, yet Aurora agrees to go to extreme lengths to banish the new beau from her life.
This is a clever, well-drawn, delightful story from beginning to end. Marilyn Victor is half of the crime-fiction writing team of Marilyn Victor and Michael Allen Mallory, known for their zoo mysteries.

5. Patrica Abbott, The Angel Deeb

When a pickpocket begins to grow wings, he finds himself contemplating a new line of work. If you’ve never read Patti Abbott, you’re in for a treat. Patti is truly one of the best short-story writers around today.

6. David Housewright, Time of Death

A young girl under arrest for the brutal murder of her cheating boyfriend attempts to convince the investigator that she is innocent, claiming the murder was committed by a ghost. David is an Edgar-winning author, and writing instructor at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis.

7. Stephen Blackmoore, World’s Greatest Dad

By the time Franklin Delacorte wakes up, he’s been dead six hours and is unsure of how he feels about his sons turning him into a zombie. When Franklin begins behaving...well, like a zombie, the boys feel compelled to undo what they’ve done. But Daddy knows best, and Franklin doesn’t want to stay dead.

Stephen Blackmoore has an uncanny skill for writing black humor, and World’s Greatest Dad is a hilarious zombie tour de force. Stephen recently signed a two-book deal with Daw.

8. Shirley Damsgaard, Bewitched

So what if you don’t have the right ingredients to cast a spell? Rachel buys a magic book from an antique store and uses household ingredients to bring Mr. Right back into her life. Only Mr. Right turns out to be Mr. Wrong. Shirley is the author of the popular Ophelia and Abby mysteries.

9. Lance Zarimba, Fangs and All

It’s love at first bite for Billy Joe Jim Bob when he brings his first vampire home in this hilarious and deliberately cliché-packed story. Lance is a multi-published author.

10. Leandra Logan, You Called

A bitter, lonely woman spends Friday nights drinking cheap wine and entertaining herself by redialing the days unanswered calls to harass telemarketers. She finally meets her match when a mysterious man answers one of her calls. Leandra is a multi-published, bestselling author.

11. Julia Buckley, Motherly Intuition

A mother’s job is never done, and death is no reason to keep Daphne’s mother from looking out for her daughter. Julia Buckley always delights, and Motherly Intuition is a great showcase for her charm and humor. Julia is author of the Madeline Mann series.

12. Anne Frasier, The Replacement

After a young man is reanimated, he has forty-eight hours to find a replacement for his empty grave if he wants to remain above ground. The best candidate for replacement is the man who murdered him. Anne is a USA Today bestselling author, and recently sold a memoir to Grand Central Publishing.

13. Jason Evans, She Came on the October Wind

A stray black cat appears nightly at Natalie’s window, bringing with it memories of a sister who ran away years earlier. Jason is the author of the blog, The Clarity of Night, where he hosts and judges a popular fiction contest.

14. L.K. Rigel, Slurp

Feed your Muse takes on a whole new meaning when a writer has a breakdown just as trick-or-treaters arrive at her door. A wicked, fresh, and clever tale by an emerging writer.

15. Kelly Lynn Parra, Graveyard Soul Sucker

It’s Halloween, and group of college students visit a graveyard in an attempt to reanimate a dead serial killer with a ritual found in an ancient book of spells. Kelly Parra is the award-winning author of Graffiti Girl and the more recent Carina Press release, Criminal Instinct.

16. Heather Dearly, Troubled Water

The anniversary of two deaths brings about the return of the Grim Reaper to Anya Madjigijik’s house on Cemetery Road. A haunting, moody, and beautifully written tale by this previously unpublished author.

17. Paul D. Brazill, This Old House

If you want a job done right, do it yourself. Or in the case of This Old House, never hire an idiot to burn down your home. A plot to collect on homeowner’s insurance goes horribly wrong when the man hired to carry out the deed gets his holidays confused. Paul lives in Poland, and has quickly established himself as a masterful short-story writer.

18. Michael Allan Mallory

19. Paula Fleming, Tricks, Treats, and Terror in Tin Lake

Halloween is the one day of the year when alien Adeela can shed her costume and walk freely among the humans. Until someone burns down her house.

Paula Fleming is a short-story writer and busy freelance editor living in Minneapolis.

20. Mark Hull, Friday Night Dining with Marianne

It’s Halloween, and a food critic finds herself dining on chubby Boy Scout, mountaineer eyeballs, and sea monkeys. As Marianne finishes her meal, she decides the mysterious restaurant is the perfect place to bring an annoying associate. If Bram Stoker had written comedy, it would look exactly like this. Mark Hull’s Friday Night Dining is pure charm and delight from beginning to end. Mark is a contributor to The Rake, a Twin Cities lifestyle magazine.

Dark and Disorderly by Bernita Harris

2010-06-28T03:58:00.004-09:30

Online friendships are weird. Some of my...let's call them hardcopy friends, don't consider online friendships real friendships. I do. It's a different kind of friendship, but a friendship nonetheless. Sometimes the online friendships don't hold up in the real world. Other times, when you finally meet the person face-to-face, not a beat is skipped. But that's something to explore in another post.

Bernita Harris and I have been online friends for at least six years. Although we've never met in person, I can easily imagine hanging out with Bernita in her backyard garden. So I was so excited when I heard that Bernita had sold to Carina Press. Her first book, Dark and Disorderly, comes out today. It's been getting rave reviews. I just downloaded my copy from Amazon, and can't wait to read it!

Dark and Disorderly

Description:
"I was standing there naked when my dead husband walked into my bathroom..."

Lillie St. Claire is a Talent, one of the rare few who can permanently dispatch the spirits of the dead that walk the earth. Her skills are in demand in a haunted country, where a plague of ghosts is becoming a civic nuisance.

Those skills bring her into conflict with frightened citizens who view Talents as near-demons. Her husband comes to see her as a Freak; so when Nathan dies after a car crash, she is relieved to be free of his increasingly vicious presence. Lillie expects to be haunted by Nathan's ghost, but not to become Suspect #1 for her husband's murder and reanimation.

But what's most surprising of all is the growing attraction between her and psi-crime detective John Thresher. He thinks that Lillie killed Nathan—and Nathan must agree, because his zombie is seeking revenge. Now she and Thresher must work together to solve her husband's murder—before his corpse kills her...

THE NAME GAME

2010-06-24T13:12:00.002-09:30

Sometimes I can't keep track of who I am. I started out writing under my real name, but when I switched to crime fiction the marketing department thought I should use something new. My middle name is Anne. My editor suggested Frasier, and that was pretty much that. At about the same time, I moved from Iowa to St. Paul where I met a new group of writers and booksellers, and they came to know me as Anne. I gave up trying to use Theresa, because nobody could keep it straight. I even had trouble emailing various people at the publishing house because they didn't know who Theresa Weir was, and I quickly realized I had to make a full transition in order for my career to move smoothly. And now I will eventually be transitioning back. It's possible that I'll continue to write suspense under Frasier, but at this point that's unclear. The hardest thing to change will be email. I've used the Frasier email address for so many years. Just not sure how to make that switch, but at the same time I'm afraid continuing to use Frasier will be confusing for people. And what's really weird is that in a lot of ways I feel more like Anne Frasier than Theresa Weir. I've been Anne for ten years, and I left that old life and that other name behind long ago. I'm sure I'll eventually get used to being Theresa again, but it all feels so strange! Sometimes I wonder if I just shouldn't get my name legally changed to Frasier.

HALLOWEEN ANTHOLOGY AND TITLE IDEAS

2010-06-19T03:13:00.004-09:30

More book news!
I'm excited to say the Halloween anthology has found a lovely home! I can't share many details until I meet with the publisher, but it will be released in trade paperback September 2011. I couldn't have done it without all of the wonderful stories. Once the details are locked in, I'll post an official announcement including the publisher and a list of the contributors.

Above is my original mock-up cover which I doubt will be used. Back when this project was just a twinkle in my eye, the title was Bats in the Belfry because I'd planned to publish the book myself and I was calling my little publishing venture Belfry Press. But when the stories began rolling in, and they were so damn good, I felt we should reach higher. Now I think we might need a new title, and I'd like to have a list of options when I meet with the publisher. So please leave your title ideas in the comment section!

THE TICKLISH UNDERBELLY OF SELF-PUBLISHING

2010-06-17T14:40:00.007-09:30

A couple of weeks ago someone posted a thoughtful piece on self-publishing, or rather the dangers of self-publishing. I wish I'd bookmarked it, because now I can't recall the details, but it was something about self-publishing making it too easy for writers to publish before the book is ready to be published. And publish before the writer has really honed his skills. I don't even know if that's what the article was really about. All I can recall is my mental response and another viewpoint it triggered in me. And I've been thinking a lot about this lately because of my own interest in self-publishing.

My concern isn't that unpolished and undeveloped stories will be published, my concern is that good books, fantastic books, will go unread.

Writers who would normally take the traditional path - the tedious queries and rejections, the waiting and waiting, the revisions and waiting and revisions and more queries - many of those writers will decide to self-publish and we'll never read their stories.

Criminal Instinct by Kelly Lynn Parra

2010-06-07T07:16:00.001-09:30

I'm so excited about Kelly's book, Criminal Instinct. It's one of the first titles for Carina Press, which officially launches today, June 7th!

Read about Kelly's long journey beginning with her initial conception of CI to today's launch. It's heartbreaking and inspiring.

Words of a Writer -- A Personal Journey

READ AN EXCERPT!

purchase from Carina Press

storycards

2010-06-06T09:43:00.002-09:30

I'm trying to build up my supply of storycards. Got some cute new paper. Really like the paper in the upper right-hand corner. You can't tell from this image, but it's flocked.

I'm in the process of getting slides scanned, and I will be posting some digital images in the coming weeks and months. I'm also going through my late husband's artwork and notes. When he was dying and could no longer speak, all conversations took place on paper. Of course these are just his side of the conversation, but it's easy for me to figure out who he was talking to. Probably twelve notebooks in all. At first he wrote everything on an erasable board, then we switched to spiral notebooks and legal pads. At the time, I didn't think about keeping them -- it was for convenience, because the erasable would sometimes vanish before he was done writing. I've been scanning some of this stuff, but it's hard to get a clear image since it was written in light pencil. But anyway, I'm digging through boxes and sorting and reading. Missing some slides and artwork, but hopefully they will show up.

JUNE RELEASES

2010-06-04T04:28:00.008-09:30

Several friends have books coming out this month, and I will start with the first two just-out titles by Bill Cameron and David Housewright, both wonderful, wonderful writers, both of whom have stories in the Halloween anthology.

David (House to many friends and readers) happens to be doing a signing at Once Upon a Crime June 8. I haven't read this book, but it's on my to-buy list (you can't go wrong with a book by David Housewright) along with Bill's Day One. If you would like a signed copy of David's book, you can call Once Upon a Crime. They do mail orders! (Hey, you could order both books at the same time!)

Once Upon a Crime: (612) 870-3785

DAVID HOUSEWRIGHT
(Edgar and Minnesota Book Award author)

The Taking of Libbie, S.D.

7 PM Tuesday, June 8, 2010

from Once Upon a Crime:

Join us for a publication party at:

Once Upon A Crime

604 W. 26th Street, Minneapolis

Edgar Award-winning author Housewright jumps right into the story in his seventh Rushmore McKenzie mystery: it opens with two men breaking into McKenzie’s Minnesota house, zapping him with a Taser, throwing him into the trunk of a car, and transporting him several hundred miles to, of all places, Libbie, South Dakota. Once there, they discover they got the wrong guy: they're looking for a con man who used McKenzie’s name and identity to bilk the town of Libbie out of a lot of money. Believe it or not—and McKenzie can scarcely believe it—the abductors then ask the abductee to help them out by finding the con man and bringing him to justice. McKenzie describes himself as a knight-errant doing favors for friends (he’s way rich and doesn't need a day job, but that's another story - which we have:, namely A Hard Ticket Home).

"charmingly unlikable in a likable sort of way" – Booklist Online (referring, of course, to McKenzie, rather than the indisputably likable Housewright)

Bill Cameron might dispute this description, but I would define his writing as literary crime fiction, partially because he is so good when it comes to the interior of his characters. I once said this about Bill's writing:

"Real is the word that immediately comes to mind when stepping into a world created by the exceptionally talented Bill Cameron. The landscape he illuminates is one we've seen before, but never with such focus or appreciation."

Bill's anthology contribution features some of the characters from Day One, and I can tell you the short story just blew me away, so I'm especially anxious to get my hands on a copy of his new release.

About Day One:

Born and raised in southern Oregon farm country, Elie Spaneker flees her home and abusive husband, unaware she's being tracked by an ex-cop in the hire of her vengeful father-in-law.

In Portland, retired homicide detective Skin Kadash fills his idle days drinking coffee and searching for Eager Gillespie, a teen runaway of special interest as the only witness in a troublesome and long unsolved murder. Eager, meanwhile, is on his own, grifting and working the angles in the homeless underground, oblivious to the unfolding events which will force him to face the consequences of a crime, and a longing, which has haunted him for years.

These disparate trails converge at a bloody standoff, the harrowing end of a series of brutal crimes which trace a path from the high desert to the streets of Portland, committed by a perpetrator known only as Shadow.

PRAISE FOR DAY ONE

“Readers will get caught up in this thriller's various plot threads, which will lead them to a sad yet satisfying conclusion.”
—Library Journal

“Unrelievedly bleak and gritty yet thoroughly compelling.”
—Booklist

"The characters’ operatically intense passions are powerful."
—Publishers Weekly

I'll round out this post with a June release by friend Mary Logue. Mary is another awesome Minnesota writer. She and Bill are both published by Tyrus Books.

Frozen Stiff

The next installment in the Claire Watkins mystery series.

Car mogul Daniel Walker is celebrating New Year’s Eve alone. Or at least he thinks he is. The temperature is twenty degrees below zero outside, but he’s roasting in his sauna with a bottle of Stolychnaya. Not only is he about to be rid of his wife, but he has just conned an older woman out of her family farm. Everything is going his way. At midnight, he runs outside naked for a quick roll in the snow. But when he tries to get back in the house, he can’t. He’s been locked out.

The next morning he’s found, frozen and covered in snow. When deputy sheriff Claire Watkins gets to the scene, she calls an ambulance, remembering that sometimes people in this condition can be revived. As the doctors pump warm fluids through his body, his loved ones gather: his model daughter Danielle, his soon to be ex-wife Sherri Walker. Claire learns of others who weren’t happy with him: the son of the woman who sold the farm and the housekeeper’s daughter who is giving birth to an unexpected child in the same hospital.

While solving this midwinter crime, Claire realizes how tenuous love is and how frozen she’s been since her first husband was killed many years ago. She has been happy living with Rich Haggard, but in this chilling season she finds she wants more. Maybe she’s finally ready to step into the marriage he’s wanted all along.

PRAISE FOR FROZEN STIFF

"Readers who care more about intelligent depictions of passionate emotions than the details of police work will be most satisfied."
—Publishers Weekly

"A satisfying entry in a consistently entertaining series."
—Booklist

"Sure to appeal to Logue’s fans and readers who enjoy regional Midwestern mysteries."
—Library Journal

writing junkie

2010-05-31T05:20:00.008-09:30

I've always thought of writing as an addiction, and I'm not sure you really have to believe in yourself to sell a book. You just have to be obsessed. This theory hit home with my recent sale. A few people have said, "You believed in the book. You believed in the story and yourself." No, I didn't. I didn't believe in it at all, but I was obsessed with telling it anyway. And later, I just needed to follow the thread to the end and have definitive proof that this was a story no publishing house would want so that I could just move on.

Years ago I knew a guy named Willy Dixon. He and his wife are long dead, so they won't be reading this. But Willy spent about twenty years working on a memoir. It was horrendous stuff, and he sent pages to me and he sent pages to the little rural community paper. And people, being what they are, would sit around and read his stories out loud and laugh. Over the years, I gave Willy advice, but he wouldn't listen to any of it. He just wrote and wrote and wrote. He was obsessed. And while I was writing The Orchard, I kept thinking: This is my Willy Dixon book.

When I sent it to my agent of twenty years, he sadly said it was nothing and couldn't rep it. Another male agent read forty pages and came to the same conclusion. I put the material away for a year, but I couldn't quit thinking about it. I began to wonder if the story didn't appeal to men. If men simply wouldn't respond to it. And at that point I decided it needed to be read by female agents. They would tell me the same thing, and I could move on and put the material away once and for all. But of course that didn't happen. Three publishers were interested, and my sense that this was a book for women proved to be right. I think it's a book for single women and childless women and mothers and daughters and sisters and aunts and grandmothers. I think women connect to the earth and the soil in ways that men don't. Not that men care less than women -- God, no! We just connect in a different way.

Sorry to talk about this again, but I keep replaying pieces of the last three years, analyzing, trying to figure out what key elements led to this particular place, and I think it comes down to obsession. I always have to finish what I start, and I couldn't let it go long after I quit believing in it.

free short stories on Smashwords

2010-05-29T07:37:00.002-09:30

For the next few days I'm offering a couple of free short stories on Smashwords. Please be my test readers! You have to use the coupon code to download free titles. If you spot any typos, let me know!!

Crack House coupon code: WJ44U

Girls From the North Country coupon code: BX94M

those crazy storycards

2010-05-16T09:06:00.005-09:30

Over the past few months I let the storycard thing slide, still unsure about the whole concept and packaging. (Is this stupid? Not stupid?) Friday I participated in a fundraiser for the local library. I donated about 15 of my Frasier books and gave a talk/discussion. I also donated most of my remaining stock of storycards. Weird thing? Everybody loved the storycards. They were a much bigger hit than my books. Since all of my storycard sales have been by mail, I hadn't actually witnessed the response to the cards. People seem to love the way they feel, love the size, love the concept, love the choice of patterns, love that they are handmade. So I'm feeling kind of buzzed about them again. It's a tough thing, because I don't think Etsy is really the place to sell them, and I don't think a bookstore is really the place to sell them (even though the audience is there), because I would have to almost give them away in order for the store to make any profit. I've added another story, and I plan to add three more in the next few months.

my Etsy page

when everything new is old again

2010-05-15T10:05:00.006-09:30

My daughter took these photos last Sunday using an iPhone app. They look like lovely Polaroid transfers:

Perley lilacs

flowering crabapple

planting an apple tree

Am I done?

2010-05-11T04:51:00.004-09:30

I'm busy with freelance edits, but as I'm editing I sometimes come up with things to share.

Am I done yet?

Before moving on, I ask myself if I've thoroughly explored the emotional depth of a scene. Of course I've been doing more navel-gazing lately, but I think this kind of question can apply to most writing. If a scene falls flat, ask yourself what you're missing. Try to unlock the secret of that scene.

Had a lovely Mother's Day. The offspring came and we drank New Glarus beer, ate pizza, planted a Haralson apple tree, went mushroom hunting, transplanted Perley lilacs, and listened to rough mixes of two new songs.

discussion topics for book groups

2010-05-07T04:49:00.005-09:30

My latest project is ready for submission, and my agent asked that I put together a brief explanation of how I got to this point. Why this story? Why now? Those of you who've been following my blog know what a long journey this has been, and know I pretty much bet the farm on this one. But if I hadn't written it, I would have spent the rest of my life regretting that I'd never tried. A few years ago I think it would have sold. Now...well, let's don't go there.

As I read the material one final time, I realized that the book lends itself to discussion topics. Even though the main story is about farming and living on a farm, I think this book has the potential to speak to everyone.

All of us can reflect on our lives and and in retrospect see those decisions we made that ended up having a much bigger impact than we could have anticipated. And it's interesting to follow that thread back, back, back to the beginning, to that very first trigger. So my first topic for discussion would be this:

What single event, large or minuscule, changed the course of your life in an unexpected way?

I realize this isn't a new question, but I think it's one that doesn't get old and is always fun to think about.

I've never participated in a book-group discussion, so if anyone has any tips I'd love to hear them. Is the focus always about the book, or can the topic turn around and be about the reader?

writing tip: just do it

2010-05-03T08:57:00.008-09:30

The best way to learn how to write is to write. Okay, we've all heard that a million times, but it's true. Write, then give that material to someone who knows how to write, and let that person show you what you're doing right and what you're doing wrong. Because I don't think all of the tips in the world mean anything or really sink in until someone points out what works and what doesn't.

I'm not trying to plug my editing service, because I'm kind of swamped right now. But because of my service, I'm coming to understand that these writing tips are just Charlie Brown's parents until the writer is led to his mistakes. Ah, yes. Now I get it.

Just do it.

The Cat's Meow

2010-04-26T13:29:00.008-09:30

A year ago I came up with this concept for a trilogy. The first book in the series was The Cat's Meow. Kind of chick lit. Kind of romance. Kind of fantasy. I thought it was a delightful idea. Unfortunately, I was the only person who liked it. One agent said it was definitely the oddest thing she'd read all year, so it has that going for it. I've posted the first chapter on Smashwords, where you can read it for free. Leave a review or rating if you like. Or if you hate. At this point, the first book is half done. I stopped when I started racking up negative feedback.

The Cat's Meow

writing tips

2010-04-24T09:15:00.004-09:30

More tips!

* Don't introduce too many characters in a single scene, especially in the first and second chapter, but not a good idea anywhere. The reader can't keep track. Beginners tend to introduce too many characters in the first chapter.

* Once you've introduced a secondary character, make sure that character reappears at certain intervals, otherwise reader will forget who he is. And if he disappears for long chunks, is he really that important?

* Mix it up. We tend to skim names when we read, so make sure character names vary. Make sure they don't sound or look alike, and don't start with same letter.

* Don't stick two stories together. You know what I mean. You've written 150 pages of one story, get sick of it, think of another plot, but don't want to waste those 150 pages so you just stick the two together and do a little sanding at the seam. I've seen this A LOT. You aren't fooling anybody.

* try to get rid of words like:

that
really
just
then
suddenly

Watch out for the words was and been. This can sometimes indicate weak writing, but not always.

* Easy on italics. Apparently some people don't mind italics, because I sometimes pick up books that contain whole chapters of it. I won't read these books, and I wonder how many other readers feel the same. I would say no more than a page or two at a time. Different formatting can sometimes be substituted for italics, such as a block of text with wider margins and condensed spacing. To me, that says this is just as important as the other text.

WRITING TIPS!

2010-04-10T05:20:00.004-09:30

RIDING THE HOT TREND

This topic really needs a post of its own, because it's controversial. Every day we read agent blogs and tweets telling us to avoid trends. I understand where this is coming from, but I also think a hot trend can be an unpublished writer's foot in the door.

My friend Linda, who used to write wonderful historical romances under the name Jessica Douglas, used to say you don't want to be the first wagon through, and you don't want to be the last, but that place in the middle? Sweet.

If you recognize a hot trend you'd love to write, and if you can write very quickly, I say go for it. It's an opportunity. And when I say write fast, I mean have that manuscript ready to go in eight months. Because trends can turn overnight, which is why agents are always warning against them. I lied. Actually, they don't turn overnight. From my observation, it takes a minimum of two years for a trend to really go belly up. Once saturation point is recognized, doors to hot trends slam one at a time, and with each slam your chances of selling go down.

A slow writer should avoid jumping on a trend, because there's nothing more heartbreaking than working years on a story no one will even look at. If you can't have that story ready to go in under a year, then maybe trends aren't for you.

more writing tips!

2010-04-03T10:28:00.005-09:30

All of my tips seem to focus on what not to do. Sorry! I'm a negative person, what can I say? Here are five more things some people might find helpful:

11. Not enough white space:

I'm not kidding. Another way to say this--too many freakin' words! But really, people like a certain beat to their reading, a certain balance of dialogue/narrative. You can tell if you have the mix right by looking at the white space. This is also why it's tough to have scenes with a single character. Dialogue helps with momentum and adds white space. Try not to leave your character alone too often or too long.

12. Backstory overshadows current story

13. Backstory is more interesting than current story

14. Backstory is the story

15. One of my biggest pet peeves that some might disagree with: Don't make the entire story a flashback. Tell the story that's happening now, not the story that took place twenty years ago. I want NOW! And if you want to write about something that took place 20 years ago, write as if it's happening now. Nothing makes me lose interest faster than something that's not happening now. I realize there are some wonderful exceptions to this, but immediacy is more likely to engage the reader.

Anne's Writing Tips

2010-03-27T12:57:00.007-09:30

I'm continuing with common writing problems. The first five were posted last Sunday.

6. Fear of telling:

This is a big one. Show don't tell has been hammered into us for so long that we are terrified of divulging any information without showing. But some telling is okay. Telling is bad when it would be more powerful to show us, but feeding us a sentence or two of information is perfectly okay.

7. Word repetition:

This seems harmless enough, but it's about as annoying as a dripping faucet. Repetitions words, especially unusual words, can stop the reader, or at least distract the reader. Sometimes repetition can't be helped, but try to avoid it whenever possible.

8. Allowing reader to make assumptions and write her own story:

if you don't give reader adequate information, she will begin filling in the blanks with her own story. Suddenly the reader is trying to balance the story she is making up, with the story on the page.

9. Lack of conflict:

Here's another one we hear all of the time, yet it's also a rule that many new writers ignore. Try to establish the conflict in first scene. When I point out this problem to writers, I've been told: My story isn't an adventure, or isn't a thriller, or isn't suspense.

Doesn't matter.

I just thought of this, so I haven't tested it, but I'm thinking you should be able to come up with a pitch for any book, any television show, any movie, after fifteen minutes of reading or viewing. Probably less. I'm going to start testing that to see how long it takes on average.

What is this story about? That's the question the reader is asking, that's the question she wants answered so she can sit back and enjoy the ride.

10. Not establishing main story line in opening, or at least close to opening:

This goes hand-in-hand with establishing conflict. Let us know what the main character is up against as quickly as possible. If you don't, the reader will once again go off on her own, trying to figure it out. You're writing the story; not the reader.

Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

2010-03-24T05:32:00.013-09:30

Here's my biggest writing problem, and it's so big it deserves a post of its own.

I ALWAYS reach a point where I'm so anxious to kick the manuscript out the door that I mentally shut down and move it to the finished pile even when it isn't finished. This is completely different from not being able to see the holes because I'm too close; this is just a wall I hit and I'm done, done, done. I could put it away for a month and I'd still feel the same. I actually reach a point where I have to be able to convince myself that I'm finished.

Self-preservation.

And after all of these years, I still don't know if I'm deluding myself or if I'm actually done. Someone has to tell me it's not finished, and then the veil lifts. But sometimes a writer needs to be done. For that moment, we need to believe the freakin' thing is finished.

Anne's writing tips

2010-03-21T14:16:00.003-09:30

I started putting together a list of writing tips, hoping to come up with 10. Right now I'm up to 63. :D So now I'm hoping I can hit 100. I'll try to post groups of five every so often. I would say every Sunday, but I don't know if I'll stick to that. I'm going to start with five problems that are all related and occur in many manuscripts, mine included.

1. Thinking you've told us something you haven't.

2. Not giving reader enough information. Making us work too hard to figure out what the hell is going on.

3. Not allowing characters to react to events.

4. Trying to create mystery by withholding information.

5. Thinking you understand point of view when you really don't. It's not enough to simply have the POV character in the scene. Put us in that character's head so we know what he's thinking about events going on around him.

Once Upon a Crime Eighth Annual Write of Spring

2010-03-16T09:53:00.003-09:30

SATURDAY, March 20, NOON to 4:00

Once Upon a Crime
604 w.26th St. Minneapolis

612-870-3785

from Pat and Gary:

52 Authors in four hours! (see schedule below). If you haven't been to one of these, or actually, even if you have, you probably ask “where do you put them all?” Well, we've often wondered that ourselves; it does get cozy. Fortunately, the book racks are on wheels, and we move them all out, except for the large “local” rack. So this probably won’t be the best time to browse, or to sit and chat with us. But we guarantee a good time, home-made “crime-themed” refreshments and some special giveaways!

Among the invited authors this year are several current and former Minnesota Book Award finalists and winners, some Edgar award winners and nominees, plus winners and nominees of just about every other mystery award available. To round things out we're even having a National Book Award winner, and a Hugo award nominee. Such incredible talent we're blessed with. But enough about awards. Awards are neat, and bring with them a certain degree quality assurance, but all of these authors are great, and we're lucky to be associated with them.

Two lovely and talented ladies from “out of state” will be joining us as “honorary locals for the day”: Libby Fischer Hellmann (Chicago) and Victoria Houston (Rhinelander, WI). Both are no strangers to Once Upon a Crime, and enjoy a strong following among our customers. We're honored to have them. In addition to appearing at our store whenever they each have a new book out, this will be Victoria’s second “Write of Spring”. Libby was also here for our “Once Upon a Crime” anthology party last fall.

Speaking of anthologies, the Write of Spring is a great opportunity to collect scads of signatures! We'll have on hand the editors and most of the authors of four terrific mystery anthologies: The Silence of the Loons”, “Resort to Murder”, “Twin Cities Noir”, and “Once Upon a Crime”. Bring out your inner autograph hound, and get several – they make great gifts.

12:00 JOEL ARNOLD; JUDITH YATES BORGER; LAURA CHILDS; KATIE DeCOSSE; MONICA FERRIS; PETE HAUTMAN;

LIBBY FISCHER HELLMANN; PRISCILLA HERBISON; KATHLEEN HILLS; WILLIAM KENT KRUEGER; JACKIE MAHER;
DAVID OPPEGAARD; DEBORAH WOODWORTH

1:00 CARL BROOKINS; GARY BUSH; JAN DUNLAP; MARGARET FRAZER; BRIAN FREEMAN; ELLEN HART;
VICTORIA HOUSTON; CAMILLE HYYTINEN; JENIFER LeCLAIR; ANDREA SISCO; BETH SOLHEIM; ROGER STELLJES;
RICHARD THOMPSON

2:00 BARBARA DaCOSTA; PAT DENNIS; BARBARA FISTER; STEVE HORWITZ; DAVID HOUSEWRIGHT; CHUCK LOGAN; LARRY MILLETT; JULIE SCHAPER; RICK SHEFCHIK; ANTHONY NEIL SMITH; STEVE THAYER; CHRISTOPHER VALEN;
LANCE ZARIMBA

3:00 KJ ERICKSON; WILLIAM FIETZER; LOIS GREIMAN; BOB GUST; JUDITH KOLL HEALEY; DEAN HOVEY;

JULIE KRAMER; MICHAEL ALLAN MALLORY; SUJATA MASSEY; SCOTT PEARSON; SUSAN RUNHOLT;
MARILYN VICTOR ; J. P. WHITE

through the meat grinder

2010-02-23T06:59:00.001-09:30

I decided to take Matt's opening and give it a full edit. If I were actually editing I wouldn't use my own words, I'd just make suggestions. I've added my own text in order to give a solid example of what I'm talking about. Matt's material works very well for this because I'm starting with a first draft. Thanks, Matt!

original opening

Fisher of Beasts
by:
Matthew M

And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.
-- Matthew 4:18-20

Chapter 1

Some were called to be fishers of men, but I was called to be a fisher of beasts.
Azazel, one of the Grigori, the Watchers of Men, once had fallen and revealed the art of sword making and war to mankind. Now, he stood at a corner under a flickering street lamp smoking a cigarette and hawking cheap guns. A cool breeze barely moved the black hair matted against his forehead. His red-ringed eyes watched each passing car as he pulled another drag from his cigarette. The ash glowed red and faded away.
“Men shouldn’t fight,” I said, stepping out of the dark alley and into the dim circle of light from the lamppost.
“We’re not men, are we Baraqel?” he laughed, dropped his cigarette, and stamped it out. He exhaled the last of the smoke and it hung as a halo around his head.
“It’s never too late,” I said. “I’ve recruited many and they believe this too.”
Azazel laughed through a deep cough.
I smiled. “Not as well as we used to be?”

edited opening

Fisher of Beasts
by:
Matthew M

Chapter 1

Some were called to be fishers of men, but I was called to be a fisher of beasts.

Hard to believe I've been in/on (where?) twenty cycles/years. The streets paved in stones from (where?) or: streets paved with recycled (what?) still feel alien to me. The lamps, with their iron shields, cast an unfamiliar shadow, constant reminders that I'm the stranger here. (just an example!!! immediately ground us and pack as much what/where/who info in these first few paragraphs as possible without doing a dump. The first two paragraphs might be all an agent looks at. Make them really count.)

From my hiding place in the dark alley, I spotted Azazel standing on a corner under a flickering light, smoking a cigarette and hawking cheap guns. (has he been looking for him? Hoping to find him?) A breeze barely moved the black hair matted against his forehead. His red-ringed eyes watched each passing car as he pulled another drag from his cigarette. The ash glowed and faded away. Azazel had once been one of the Watchers of Men, but he'd fallen, tempted by (?) My purpose wasn't to kill him, but recruit him. (why?

“Azazel.” I stepped from alley and approached my enemy, stopping a few feet away. (or whatever.) "How does it feel to have so much blood on your hands?" The man (or beast or what?) before me had betrayed (what? who?) by revealing the art of sword making to mankind. He deserved no small talk.
"You give me too much credit." He dropped his cigarette and stamped it out. Smoke hung as a halo around his head. “We’re not men, are we Baraqel (explain this with Baragel's reaction)?” He was right, but it was something I tried not to think about too deeply. (Or something I would never admit, or whatever. What are they?)
“It’s never too late to help the cause,” I said. “I’ve recruited many.”
Azazel laughed through a deep cough. "And what do these recruits of yours do? Bake brownies and knit?" (or whatever. or could say something like this instead: "Are you offering me absolution?"
B might wonder if A has any remorse. "Sins cannot be undone."
(have they met before? or is Baraqel famous?) this is a chance to reveal some of A's character. Also, Azazel should be a major character. Don't introduce someone this early if they will only have minor role or never appear again. I'm sure you know that!

victim two, Emeraldcite

2010-02-22T11:11:00.003-09:30

Emeraldcite bravely sent a first draft of his urban fantasy, Fisher of Beasts. Thank you! *cackles and rubs hands together*

My original plan was to use screen shots, but that didn't work because my laptop screen is too small. Argh. So I resorted to this method where I am shouting in all caps. Anything else would have been lost since all the formatting vanishes when dumped into blogger. I think there's a way around that, but this was probably the quickest and easiest solution.

Fisher of Beasts

And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers. And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men. And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.
-- Matthew 4:18-20
NOT SURE IF THIS BIBLE VERSE IS NECESSARY.

Chapter 1

Some were called to be fishers of men, but I was called to be a fisher of beasts.

LOVE THIS OPENING LINE, BUT YOU NEED TO EXPAND ON IT. YOU NEED TO GIVE US MORE INFO, MAYBE AS MUCH AS A PARAGRAPH. DON’T BE TOO AFRAID TO TELL RATHER THAN SHOW. ALSO BE SURE TO GROUND US, SHOW US WHERE AND WHAT OF VIEWPOINT CHARACTER.

REMIND READER OF VIEWPOINT. YOU HAVE TO BE ESPECIALLY CAREFUL OF THIS IN OPENINGS, BECAUSE WE JUST MET ONE PERSON, NOW WE ARE MEETING ANOTHER. SO YOU NEED TO START SECOND PERSON INTRO WITH SOMETHING LIKE: I SPOTTED AZAZEL STANDING UNDER THE FLICKERING STREET LAMP.
Now, he stood at a corner under a flickering street lamp smoking a cigarette and hawking cheap guns. A cool breeze barely moved the black hair matted against his forehead. His red-ringed eyes watched each passing car as he pulled another drag from his cigarette. The ash glowed red and faded away.
Azazel WAS one of the Grigori, the Watchers of Men, WHO HAD once had fallen (IS HE STILL FALLEN? MIGHT WANT TO ELABORATE EITHER WAY.) and revealed the art of sword making and war to mankind. I MOVED THIS PARAGRAPH FROM BEGINNING. THIS WAY WE GET THE BRIEF DESCRIPTION, THEN YOU TELL US WHO HE IS.

“Men shouldn’t fight I WOULD LIKE TO SEE A BIT STRONGER DIALOGUE HERE. MAYBE SOMETHING ABOUT HOW MEN SEEM TO LIKE TO FIGHT, OR SOMETHING. GIVE US SOMETHING A BIT MORE PROFOUND. AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO FOLLOW UP DIALOGUE WITH THOUGHT. DON’T MISS CHANCE FOR CHARACTERIZATION SINCE WE ARE JUST MEETING BARAQEL. ” I said, stepping out of the dark alley and into the dim circle of light from the lamppost.
“We’re not men, are we Baraqel?” He laughed, dropped his cigarette, and stamped it out. He exhaled the last of the smoke and it hung as a halo around his head.
LET BARAQEL AT LEAST MENTALLY REACT TO THIS STATEMENT OF WHY THEY AREN’T MEN. “It’s never too late,” I said. “I’ve recruited many and they believe this too.”
Azazel laughed REPEATED WORD (SAID)through a deep cough.
I smiled. DOES BARAQEL FIND EXTREME PLEASURE IN THIS? HERE IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO GIVE US MORE CHARACTERIZATION. “Not as well as we used to be?”
He pulled a silver .45 from a holster within BENEATH the vest that clung to his thin frame. “These are not mortal bullets, my friend. These are consecrated with the secrets of our kind.” WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF ONE FINDS ITS TARGET?
I HAD MY OWN WEAPON. I slipped a hand inside my coat and brought out a small piece of chalk. I knelt and drew a circle around my feet, marking symbols in each of the cardinal directions. EXPAND AND EXPLAIN WHAT HE’S DOING. DON’T BE AFRAID TO TELL. I’M GUESSING IT WOULD BE SOMETHING LIKE THE CIRCLE WOULD PROTECT ME ETC. AND IS HE ALARMED? IN A HURRY TO DRAW THE CIRCLE? WE NEED TO SEE EMOTIONAL REACTION TO THE GUN.
Azazel erupted into another coughing fit and squeezed off a shot. When I didn’t react DID BULLET BOUNCE OFF? , he fired twice more.
I tossed a small business card outside the circle.
“Call me when you change your mind.” MORE EXPLANATION NEEDED HERE. CHANGE HIS MIND ABOUT JOINING BARAQEL?
Azazel picked up the card, squinted at it, and tucked it into a pocket on his vest. “Don’t count on it.”
He tore COULD USE ANOTHER WORD. IS HE ON FOOT? JUST NOT SURE. BECAUSE YOU ARE WORLD BUILDING, YOU MIGHT WANT TO GIVE US MORE DESCRIPTION. off down the alleyway.
Some were meant to be fishers of men. But me, I am a fisher of beasts because when I look up at the midnight sky I see home. I LOVE THIS LINE, BUT I’M NOT SURE WHAT IT MEANS. MAYBE A LINE OR TWO BEFOREHAND TO GIVE US A STRONGER CLUE?

Chapter 2

I unlocked the apartment door and went inside. The sun peeked its way between the buildings, changing the streets. They no longer appeared so desolate, so dangerous. Now the city was filled with a sense of innocence, even though below that skin LURKED/DWELLED deceit.
Azazel HAD fled, apparently afraid of the truth. I DIDN’T GET SENSE THAT HE WAS FLEEING OR AFRAID. I didn't mind, many of the others ran when I approached them, untrusting of a brother. They've experienced the in-fighting, the unnecessary destruction. Too many were lost before we could get our bearings. Too many now suffer an unmentionable fate. HMM. MAYBE WE SHOULD KNOW THE FATE.
I drew the curtains, shutting out the light. I was tired from my evening of chase. IN PREVIOUS CHAPTER, I DIDN’T GET THE IDEA THAT HE WAS DOING ANY CHASING. I THINK THAT NEEDS EXPLANATION IN CHAPTER 1.
“Hey, what're you doing, B?” MAYBE: “HEY! STOP WITH THE DARKNESS!” Tom SAID from the sofa, bits of cereal falling from his mouth. He tried to catch the little formed oats with his spoon, but missed. They rolled under the couch and joined the rest of what we were too lazy to sweep up.
“You know you're not the only one who lives here.” MY ROOMMATE STOOD AND balanced his bowl on top of a stack of magazines on the coffee table, the milk sloshing over the edges as the contents settled. He came to the window and threw open the blinds. “When I took you in--”
I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the light. “You didn't take me in, Tom.” We had this argument before. The outcome would inevitably be the same.
“Well, when I invited you to live here with me I didn't expect you to be off playing vigilante in the dead of night. It's freaking dangerous out there. Don't you watch the news?”
“I need to get some sleep. I work in a few hours.” I shielded my eyes as I walked past the windows.
Tom sighed. “You're going to get killed out there REPEAT. Let the police handle it.”
I slammed the door behind me. “I didn't know you cared so much.”
“How the hell am I supposed to make rent without you?”
# # #
In my sleep, there are no dreams. It is restless and dull, quiet and black. Here there is nothing and in that nothing there is just a little bit of peace, a little less torment.
Penemue once told me that we were the true children of God. I didn't believe him then and I still don't believe it today. We are the orphans, the deserted, the watchers of those who need no watching, who want no oversight.
He said that it's time for us to move on. “Move on where?” I asked. He shrugged. A damn wise answer, I told him. Damn wise.
# # #
When I awoke, I didn't feel refreshed. In fact, I didn't feel much of anything.
Tom parked his body in front of the TV. He poked at another bowl of cereal.
I pulled a white shirt over my head and tightened the belt on my black slacks. Work sucked. WHERE DOES HE WORK?
“Don't you I WONDER WHAT A SLACKER LIKE TOM DOES. work today?” I pulled a jug of milk from the refrigerator, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed the contents.
“Off.”
“Need anything while I'm out? I'm heading to work in a few CUT THIS LAST SENTENCE.”
“Food. I've been eating cereal for three days straight. It's all we got and I don't get paid until Friday. Rent's due and it's your turn. I'll take care of the phone bill.”
I grunted and finished off the milk. It was a little questionable, but didn't taste all that bad.
“Save me some milk. I'll need it for dinner.” TOO MUCH MILK STUFF GOING ON. ;)
“Sure,” I said. I screwed the cap back on the empty jug and put it back in the refrigerator. “Catch you later.” THIS DIALOGUE ISN’T MOVING PLOT FORWARD. NOT SURE THIS SCENE HAS THAT MUCH PURPOSE. YOU COULD EITHER CUT IT, OR MIX THIS SEEMINGLY EVERYDAY SCENE WITH SOME IMPORTANT PIECES OF INFORMATION.
Tom nodded, shoveled more food into his mouth, and turned up the volume on the TV. Guess he was enjoying the set while he could. If I didn't make enough in tips IS HE A WAITER? tonight, the power company would be making a visit.
In the end, it was better than some of my previous living arrangements. CUT THIS LINE UNLESS YOU WANT TO GO INTO PREVIOUS LIVING ARRANGEMENTS, UNLESS THEY WERE REALLY UNUSUAL WHICH COULD BE INTERESTING AND GIVE US MORE INSIGHT. LIKE BETTER THAN PREVIOUS HOME UNDER A BRIDGE OR WHATEVER. DON’T MISS CHANCE TO ELABORATE AND FILL US IN.
I grabbed my coat and tossed it over my arm. It would probably CUT PROBABLY UNLESS THERE’S A REASON FOR THIS WALK TO BE LONGER THAN PREVIOUS NIGHTS. AND IF SO, EXPLAIN. be a long walk home after work.
# # #
“Baraqel.” It was merely a whisper, but someone called my name. Faceless people passed me by, intent on their destinations. They were robotic in their movements, all preprogrammed. MAYBE A LITTLE EXPLANATION HERE ABOUT PREPROGRAMMING.
“Over here.”
I followed the sound of the voice, which appeared to be coming from a nearby tree planted into the concrete. A few of its roots broke the surface of the ground cracking the pavement. Uneven slabs jutted from the ground to trip unsuspecting travelers. I ducked under the branches.

LOOKING FOR A FEW GOOD VICTIMS

2010-02-21T07:06:00.004-09:30

Who doesn't love public humiliation?
I'm looking for a few good victims willing to submit one to five double-spaced pages to be posted here and on my editing page. I will take screen shots of edited material, and also post clean copy before and after examples. Before posting, I will give you the option to decline the public example. Are you in?

updated business page

2010-02-12T10:15:00.007-09:30

Anne Frasier Editing

I just updated my business page. Please check it out and see if it looks okay. I put my editing service on the back burner for a while because I didn't feel comfortable with the prices I quickly realized I needed to charge in order to make a go of it. I started out critiquing 50 pages for $50, then raised my rates when I concluded that I was making anywhere from $4.00 to $6.00 an hour. So not worth the drain.

The new page and prices could still take some tweaking, but if you happened to bookmark my old page, you will need to update the bookmark because the URL has changed. Right now I'm busy with the Halloween anthology and memoir, and will remain busy through April. But at some point in May I will be able to dedicate most of my time to editing, so please keep me in mind for future projects. If you need a short project edited before May, I might be able to squeeze it in. Just check with me!

If you have any suggestions, or see anything that needs corrected on the updated page, please let me know!

The Lineup

2010-02-07T06:59:00.002-09:30

I'm so excited to be a part of The Lineup 3.

The Lineup #3 (April 2010)

6" x 9", 48 pages, saddle-stitched

$7.00

Edited by Gerald So with Sarah Cortez, R. Narvaez, and Anthony Rainone

Poems by Patricia Abbott, Joe Barnes, Henry Chang, Reed Farrel Coleman, Sarah Cortez, Michael A. Flanagan, Anne Frasier, James W. Hall, David Hernandez, Amy MacLennan, Carrie McGath, James M. McGowan, Kristine Ong Muslim, David S. Pointer, James Sallis, Jackie Sheeler, Wallace Stroby, Larry D. Thomas, Francine Witte

Accepting pre-orders on Issue 3 through March 15, 2010.

The Lineup 3