Romantic Times, aka RT, is hands down my favorite conference every year.
Why?
Could it be the dancing? The drinking? The costumes? The cover models? The panels? The massive booksigning? The promotion alley? Mounds of free books? The chance to hook up with editors, agents, and publishers?
Yes, all of those things combined make up for a great experience as an author and a reader. But what keeps me coming back year after year are the connections I've made. Not just with other authors in both the mystery field and the romance genre, but with readers. With booksellers. With fans. With librarians. Their enthusiasm for the written word is infectious. The people who attend this conference READ. They buy books. They want to talk about books. At Saturday's booksigning with over 200 authors, I can't tell you how many readers I saw with bags of books. BAGS. Not only that, many of the readers are also well-versed in the ebook market, they are so crazy about reading they'll read in any form they can get their next word fix.
Heady stuff indeed.
RT has gotten to be a little like a family reunion for me. It's fun to catch up, get wild, meet face to face with folks I only know from the cyberworld or only have the chance to see once a year. It's also a place to talk about the business end of writing, contracts, promotion, editors, who is buying what, getting excited about the sales my friends have made over the last year, but for some reason, the conversations aren't gloom and doom like at other conferences I've been to. Maybe because it's hard to be negative when you're talking to someone wearing a fairy costume. Maybe because no matter what is happening in NY that is beyond our control, being with other writers, chatting with other readers, is a reminder on why we all love to write in the first place. I know I always come back from RT energized to get back to work.
I saw and hung out with way too many people to name, I know I'll forget someone if I attempt to list them all, but I want to mention a couple - FOFO Mary Stella, who I adore to the tips of her tattooed feet, who pulled me out of my shell at my very first RT and released a monster - and RT virgin, Jim Born - who embraced all that is Romantic Times from day one with his usual style, grace, wit and sarcasm. This pic of Jim and I on the dance floor shaking our booty is courtesy of Mary Stella...and yes, I believe we were dancing to "It's Raining Men"....
We’ve all talked about book covers here. Most recently, Alison was lamenting the headless body on the cover of HEARTLESS. We all have stories about covers that just didn’t make the cut; the first one I got for DEAD OF THE DAY left me shaking my head. But SHOT GIRL was perfect, as was SECONDHAND SMOKE and SACRED COWS (that is, after they spelled my name right).
I got the cover flaps for THE MISSING INK yesterday, and it looks spectacular. I’ve talked before about how much I love this cover, but I had no idea that it would stand on its own as a piece of art.
The illustrator, Craig Phillips, entered the cover illustration into the Spectrum 16 Annual, which is a yearly compilation of the best contemporary fantastic art done in the fields of advertising, institutional, book, and others, and it got in. I understand that the judging is very tough, so getting chosen is a big deal. The new book will be out sometime this year.
I think it’s pretty fitting that a book with a protagonist who is an artist-turned-tattooist has a cover that’ll be included with the year’s best contemporary fantastic art.
Is there a book cover that you’ve seen recently that really knocked your socks off?
I'm sort of flailing around today -- getting ready to head into the city for the party at the Mysterious Bookstore (where I hope to see many a FOFO) while recovering from a very late night at the office. (Got home at 2 am! Oy!) In addition to both those things, it's my birthday on Thursday, and I always get a little out-of-sorts when forced to confront the aging process in so intimate a way.
So now that I've got the excuses out of the way (Did I mention the weather is GORGEOUS?) you can probably see where this is heading... One of those random thoughts posts. So without further apology, here are a few things I've been thinking about....
1. In Touch. For those of you who might not know, that's the gossip magazine where I work as a writer/editor when I'm not writing books. The issue that's on the stands now is pretty fantastic, I've gotta say. There's one particular story in there that I wrote that I'm very proud of, too (How often do I say that? Never!) I won't name it here (gotta keep up the aura of mytery and all that) but feel free to guess which one -- I'll let you know via email if you're right.
2. Swine flu. I'm washing my hands a lot, but to be honest, it reminds me of earthquake drills where they tell you that your life will be saved if you stand in a doorway. Do you know what I'm saying?
3. Last night at work, one of the production guys was watching an old episode of THE JEFFERSONS where they go on a "Mystery Cruise" with a whole bunch of "famous mystery writers." Anybody ever see that? And what ever happened to George Jefferson's English neighbor?
4. Our friends' dog ate three boxes of girl scout cookies.
5. I love the new Kelly Clarkson. And I blame Jeff for that.
6. There's a new type of pill that's supposed to keep you from feeling emotions connected with unpleasant memories. If someone gave it to you, would you take it?
That's about it for now. Feel free to comment on any or all or something else!
It's dreary, rainy and gray here today and it makes me think of San Diego.
When I decided to set my first two novels in San Diego, I did so for two reasons:
1. I lived there for nearly 25 years and knew it better than any other place on the planet.
2. It was snowing like a mofo in Denver, where I was living at the time, and I needed WARMTH.
So I went up to the landing where the computer was, closed my eyes, thought about the beach, the ocean, the sand, the sunshine, the smells...and started writing about San Diego. And the snow was magically gone and it was like I was walking down the boardwalk in Mission Beach in eighty degree weather. (As long as I didn't look out the window or think about shoveling four feet of snow off the driveway.)
So my setting was really born out of weather conditions more than anything else.
I currently have three projects I'm working on and one is set in San Diego. That'll be the one I work on today because I really want to "see" sunshine today because I'm pretty tired of gray skies and rain and yuck.
What affects your choice of setting in your work?
Jeff
Had a mondo-busy week on campus. A tribute event for a colleague who passed away recently, plus some last minute emergencies for another project this coming weekend, plus classes, plus helping with some other important bizness...so not a lot of cohesion today.
Instead, let's hit random on my brain and see what comes out:
*Stop writing novels onTwitter. It's hard enough to read them backwards, and it's really obvious that you end up thinking in 140 character chunks. The thing I like about Twitter? All the other tweets surrounding yours. It's the variety. Go back and write a real novel.
*I just got mad at Twitter. The fuck?? What am I, fifteen again?
*I'm not in L.A. this week for the Book Festival. It costs a fortune and I don't like flying. But hey, no one's too torn up about it. I suppose them movie stars will miss me. I'll sip a Miller High Life and grill something until it's 80% charred. (but Mystery Bookstore folks, all kidding aside, you guys are tops)
*I went for two months without charging my cell phone. It was sweet relief, not having that chunk of bullshit in my pocket. But then I needed it again, and it keeps digging into my leg. Don't even suggest a "holster". If you carry your cell phone in a holster, god have mercy, you jackass.
*Did I mention that I don't buy too many hardcover books anymore because paperbacks give you more bang for the buck? Does that piss off any writers out there? Hey, I'm one too. So, like, what? I'm just saying, if the lag time for Big Screen to DVD is now about three or four months, publishers should maybe ***maybe*** step back and rethink this giant steam engine of an industry.
*But then again, it took fucking forever to get THE STATE onto DVD, so maybe some things are worth the wait.
*When will it be nice enough weather to go swimming again?
*I found a clone recipe for Taco Bell tacos online today and tried it out. And I have to say, yeah, the texture was pretty close to what the Bell serves up. It also made me realize I can cook way better tacos than Taco Bell (but not bean burritos. Jesus, TB is the king of the bean burrito).
*In a few weeks, I start pimping Hogdoggin' hard with a launch party at Once Upon a Crime, plus this ridiculous Virtual Motorcycle Rally kicking off about the same time on about twenty different blogs (so far), plus a long cross-country drive to far flung places like St. Louis and Memphis and the Mississippi Gulf Coast (i.e. "home", or at least it used to be) and New Orleans and Houston and Kansas City and Omaha. And when I get home, I'll sleep for a week, then play golf for four straight days.
*If I were to have a son, I'd name him Conquistador. And it's all because I got bored while watching The Fountain and started imagining crap like that.
*The Crimedogs are getting props all over the internet. Congrats, to Bardsley, Bill, Rawson, Anonymous-9, Ayres, and especially Mr. Minor's triumphant four notable stories in this year's Million Writers Awards--two of them from PWG!
*Best Hotel Ever: Iron Horse in Milwaukee. Best Bargain Hotel: Pear Tree Inn. Best Breakfast: Drury Inn. Worst Hotel: Super 8. Secret Hidden Gem Hotel: Hyatt Place in Eden Prairie, MN. City Where I'm Still Waiting for a Transcendent Hotel Experience: New Orleans. Place I Think Would Be Cool to Stay: Austin Motel
*If someone gave me a million dollars right now, I'd want to make a movie. My wife would then take the money away from me and tell me no. My wife is very smart.
*I'd still take about five hundred bucks and buy a sweet digital camcorder. God knows what I'd do with it.
*Sudoku is boring.
*Without the Queen soundtrack, Iron Eaglewould've sucked. However, without the Queen soundtrack, Observe and Report still would've rocked your balls off (because Jody Hill would have replaced Queen with the Black Keys, so, there ya go). Highlander? Jury is still out.
*None of this makes you want to buy my books, does it?
*I finally got the thick black plastic frame nerd glasses I've wanted for years.
*I'm tired and my stomach hurts. Blame those Taco Bell clones.
So I'm done. I feel like I've wrung my brain out like a rag. Time to soak up something else (it's super-absorbent...and self-deprecating).
Enjoy the weekend!
--N
I've got no question in mind. But I wouldn't mind hearing embarrassing stories about things you said because you were being all brave and shit, and then immediately regretted. Or, hell, just give us some good taco recipes.
But she's busy getting drunk off her ass visiting with her fans at Romantic Times this week so she asked me to post this for her today.
Three things you should know about the following video:
1. It's NSFW.
2. There are some misspelled words and we don't know why.
3. It's fucking hilarious.
We don’t get out much. I can’t remember the last movie I saw at the theater. Maybe “Wall-E.” And that was sometime last year, right? This is the reason why we pay the cable company an outrageous amount every month, because we have to have some source of entertainment.
We are very fond of cooking shows, and there are so many of them. Our favorite is Top Chef, followed by Hell’s Kitchen, Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, Man vs. Food, Chopped, and, finally, Food Detectives.
The last one is more of the Mythbusters variety: experiments to test certain hypotheses. In one episode, they flung cooked spaghetti at a wall to see if it would stick—and prove the myth that if it sticks, the spaghetti is completely cooked.
It wasn’t.
I am of the mind that publishers throw books at the wall to see if they’ll stick. All this talk about how PI novels are dead, cozies are dead, thrillers are in—I don’t think it means a thing. Readers want a good book, and sometimes that book is something so completely different than what the publishers think the market wants that it leaves everyone scratching their heads while screaming for more of the same.
The DaVinci Code, Twilight, Harry Potter—all of these are books that stuck to the wall. Now you can’t get away from religious thrillers or fantasies about teenagers who are vampires, werewolves, or wizards.
But then there’s a quiet little book that somehow manages to squeeze through all those blockbuster myths and make a statement all its own. A quiet little book that’s spawned several more and now an HBO series.
I read The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency a few years back when it first came out and eagerly read the books that followed. It’s a soft-spoken series that has a lot to say, and the cast of characters and setting are distinct. When we tuned into the premiere of the HBO series based on the books, I was not disappointed. It left us wondering why network TV can’t produce something like this: it’s not typical HBO with a lot of nudity and four letter words. Instead, it’s channeled Andrew McCall Smith’s words and left us wanting more.
It makes me realize that a book can stick to the wall if it’s good enough, so we shouldn’t abandon what we want to write for something that might be considered more commercially viable. Who knew that a traditionally built Botswanan woman would be commercially viable?
And the question for today: What’s your favorite food show?
Apparently, there are some folks out there who have some issues with the cover of HEARTLESS. Let me start by saying that I'm not one of them. When I was first emailed the cover design, I found it stirring and suspenseful and I was very, very psyched. I showed it to friends and family and they all felt the same. But, you see, none of them (including me) thought to blow up the thing five hundred thousand times on their computer screen... because if you do, the woman on it looks -- to some people -- like a decapitated stump with a wig on top.
I have no problem with people feeling this way. While it's a little... uh... humbling to know that some people would rather stare at the cover of my book with a high powered microscope than actually READ the thing, hey, it's a free country. Have at it. I even found a message board called something like "Heartless or Headless" devoted to my book cover. It had a whole bunch of comments on it, and a lot of them were pretty funny. But the one thing I found dismaying was the one-star amazon review I got -- solely because of the cover. I'm not going to reprint it, but if you're interested, go onto amazon, look at the review and you'll see what I'm talking about.
It's all well and good to express your opinion. I've had other one-star reviews before, and while I may have been a little hurt, I figured, hey, that comes with the territory. But come on... this one-star DESIGN review of a book I worked very, very hard on WRITING brought down my whole average. And get this: Because of the way amazon works, the paperback edition -- which has a TOTALLY DIFFERENT COVER -- will come out in September with that same review! Does that seem fair?
Hell, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe everything is fair in love, war and amazon, and if I don't like it, tough. But either way...I'm not gonna lose my head over it. (Sorry! Couldn't resist.)
Authors, have you ever received a review -- amazon or otherwise -- that you thought unfair? If you don't feel like talking about that, feel free, instead, to dis any and all of my covers -- just please don't post amazon reviews of them.
I didn't realize until I woke up this morning that the shootings at Columbine High School happened ten years ago today. April 20th, 1999. Seems like a long time ago...and yet it doesn't.
My home was a mile and a half from Columbine. I was working as a youth sports coordinator for the YMCA and our branch was about the same distance away. Many of our members were Columbine families and my staff of about 30 or so part-time referees and site supervisors was made up of high school kids that went to Columbine. I had Columbine students who helped coach some of our teams in a variety of sports and a large percentage of our program participants were families with students at Columbine.
We got a phone call in the sports office that something awful was going on at the school - but now I can't even recall who called us. We ran upstairs from our office to the fitness area where the televisions were and the local stations were just breaking in to the regular programming to show what was going on. And it was just as surreal for us as it was for everyone else around the country to watch what was going on, the difference being that we were frantically searching the television screen for the faces we knew, to see if they were safe, to see if they were the ones that had scattered into Clement Park or into the neighborhoods across the street from the high school. There was a sense of relief every time we saw a face we knew and I was keeping a mental checklist in my head of who I'd seen and who I had not.
Another employee in the sports department came in. His brother - one of our refs and one of our coaches and a sophomore at Columbine - was safe and he gave us a few more names of kids that he knew for certain were safe.
We got on the phone and started dialing, trying to find out more info. Who was okay? Who wasn't? Who hadn't been heard from? Painstaking phone calls, made while glancing at the televisions, wiping tears away, just trying to figure it out.
We slowly learned which kids we employed, kids who had volunteered for us and families who participated in our programs had been affected. Wounded kids, dead kids, kids that would be injured for the rest of their lives even though they'd been spared the physical trauma of being struck by a bullet. We just kind of sat there, stunned, in tears, unable to provide even the smallest answer for why something like this would happen.
I don't remember much of the rest of the day, but I do recall that our branch executive closed the branch early and that some asshole came to the door shortly after he'd put the sign up and was pissed that he couldn't work out.
The days that followed were a bit of a blur. We got details from kids who were inside, learning how awful it really was inside that morning, how amazingly terrifying it had been for them. Funerals each day for what seemed like a month. The massive vigil at the movie theaters across the street. Listening to the media begin their utterly ridiculous spin about how this had been some sort of retaliatory act against a bullying culture at the school that was led by the athletes. There were several moments I recall wanting to put my fist through a television, thinking, KNOWING, that they had it all wrong. But we knew they'd tell whatever story they wanted tell, whatever made it the most dramatic. But if you lived in that community, worked in that community, knew those families and those kids, you knew that that entire story and hypothesis was just complete bullshit.
At the time, it seemed like time would stand still forever, that no one would ever get past it, that we'd never feel normal again and that the pain would never ease. Of course, like with all things of this kind, time didn't stand still, people did move on, a sense of new normalcy was restored and while the pain didn't vanish, it did become tolerable.
I don't live in that community any longer, but I still think of myself as part of it, particularly on this date, every year.
Ten years. Seems like a long time ago...and yet it doesn't.
Jeff
Okay, guess I'd better start by covering my ass, since I'm about to touch on something taboo.
I love indie bookstores. Before I say another word, I want you all to admit that I just said that. In fact, they are the first places I call when I'm setting up signings, and the first places I look for whenever I go to a new town just because I love them so (the second places I look for: taco joints). Love to see how much the owners and employees love what they do. And as an author who's on the beginning rise of the trajectory, it's great when they show the love back. So kudos to Once Upon a Crime, Mystery One, Murder by the Book, Booked for Murder, Omaha's Mystery Bookstore, Uncle Edgar's, Poisoned Pen, Davis-Kidd, Bookpeople, Remember the Alibi, I Love a Mystery, Quimby's, Schuler Books, Robin's Books, M is for Mystery, and there are probably a few more that are slipping my mind onlybecause I'm overcaffienated and had weird dreams about giant squid. I'll correct and update the list as they come to me.
Now, onto the taboo: So why do I still find some indie bookstores that treat indie press authors like cold, hard shit?
Look, I have no illusions about where I stand on the list of priorities. I'm not a Lee Child. I'm not even Lee Child's fourth generation clone who is missing an eye, six teeth, and feasts on raw herring. (Also, I don't like Lee Child's books.) But it works like this--I (or the great people who have helped me at Bleak House and Big Earth or Two Dollar Radio in the past) call a store. I tell them who I am and about my books. I tell them about the publisher, the Edgar noms Bleak House has gotten, the goodreviews I've gotten (all to make absofuckinglutely certain that I'm not a wide-eyed self-published type), then ask if I could come in to either sign stock or maybe have a reading? I'm a polite fucker, too. Nice as can be. Either an email (or two), a phone message (or two), or someone says they'll get back to me.
The frustrating part: they don't get back to you. Even after we wait a respectful amount of time and follow-up, just make sure our dates and times all gel. Still nothing.
At least some have the balls and fortitude to say "No, nope, nein, no way." I respect that (I'm looking at you, Lemuria Books. Four in a row, and still holding strong. Come on, I'm a Mississippian with four books. Still no? Still snooty about it?), because at least I know not to try again until next book.
But really, is it so painful to say no? Or, on the other hand, are you not even willing to give the book a shot? A few signed copies?
I understand it's a tough business, and I also understand that a lot of people think this is something I should shut up about because, well, I don't want to piss off the bookstores that I'm talking about.
Um...but all I've done is play by the rules. Not to mention that I'm usually funding the tour out of my own pocket. I'm paying to come see you folks...because I want to.
Like I said, I love indie bookstores, and they have been an important part of my life for many years. I came from a town where all we had was a Waldenbooks, or you had to drive an hour to get to a Barnes & Noble. So when I discovered a wonderful indie bookshop in Hattiesburg (now closed, unfortunately, although I think another one might have opened in town) where I went to grad school, and Jackson, and New Orleans, and on and on, it was a revelation. I think in three years in Grand Rapids, I spent as much time at Schuler's Books as I did in my apartment.
The indie bookstore here in Marshall just recently closed up shop. No one would even take it on as a turnkey business. We're now a college town without an indie bookstore. So really, I'm back to that thing where I either have to drive over an hour for a chain, or mail order. And I'm not thrilled about that. My summer book tour is a chance to meet new bookstores--looking forward to visiting Pudd'nhead for the first time and Subterranean again in St. Louis (Noir at the Bar with Scott Phillips and Jed Ayres!), as well as the Kansas City shops. It's as much a buying trip as a signing trip, seeing who carries what and who can handsell me a hidden surprise that hasn't popped up on my radar yet.
I'll tell you this, though: I've had some issues with a handful of stores that really surprised me. I even remember a store that had Yellow Medicine on its website newsletter, but when I arrived (after my PR person called ahead), I was told that I should not have come, and that the owner hated my book. Recently, a store I signed stock at last year--a place where they sold so many copies of Yellow Medicine before I got there, that there were only three left to sign--won't return calls from the Bleak House person helping me this year. Same with another store I've had contact with, one where we've sent an ARC, I've corresponded with two separate people, and not even a nice, crisp, courteous "No."
So if you're out there, I hope this strikes a chord. Just let me work with you. If you'd rather I not, please let us know why. That's all. I'm a big supporter of indie stores, and would love to see plenty of new ones added to the list at the beginning of the post. Even more so, I'm just eager to find great new places to shop! Give me a chance. Maybe this year we won't sell that many, but the next year I'll be right back trying again. And I promise, I'll work harder next time because I want you, Mr. or Ms. Bookshop Owner, to know that I like you. I really, really like you.
How about you tell me about either the good or bad indie store experiences you've had--as authors or customers?
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