Blog - Murderati

Thursday

Sep022010

Right or Privilege?

Thursday, September 2, 2010 at 3:00AM in

When I was a kid, one of my favourite places was the library. I lived on a boat from an early age, which was not exactly conducive to having a large collection of books. Condensation was a big problem, and the pages tended to mildew badly in the winter.

So, I got my reading kicks amid the old oak shelves and the parquet flooring of the nearest public library in Lancaster.

It was there I worked my way contentedly through the crime section, happy to take a chance on an author I hadn’t previously come across because it wasn’t costing me anything to give them a try. And, if I didn’t like the book I’d chosen, I had plenty more book to go at.

My first event as a published author was held at that same library. While I was writing my first book, the recently republished KILLER INSTINCT, I was part of a small local writing group who met every few weeks in another tiny local library in a nearby village, barely larger than an average living room. It’s gone now, more’s the pity, boarded up and abandoned – a victim of local authority cutbacks. The community is poorer for it.

And now the government is turning its attention to another aspect of the UK library system – PLR.

Public Lending Right came into being in 1979, when the Public Lending Right Act gave British authors a legal right to receive payment for the free lending of their books by public libraries, after a campaign that lasted thirty years and was vigorously opposed by a minority of determined MPs. The scheme itself was established three years later. Payment is just a few pence per lend, taken across a sample of UK libraries over the course of a year. And as it’s capped at £6600 (a little over $10,000) it’s the mid-list authors who tend to benefit most.

For authors whose books are produced in small numbers intended largely for the library market, often only in hardcover, PLR is a lifeline. It doesn’t matter if a book is out of print, so long as it’s still being circulated in the library system, and still being read. For the years when KILLER INSTINCT languished out of print, it was the only way I knew people were still reading and enjoying the book.

I feel very grateful to the libraries in general – and Lancaster Library in particular. In fact, the first ‘real’ character I included in one of my books was the librarian there, Andrew Till, who became an FBI agent in FIRST DROP. I was delighted to be able to include him as a thank you for all the hard work librarians do.

(a recent library event as part of Yorkshire FEVA - Festival of Entertainment and Visual Arts - with the staff of Knaresborough Library [from l to r] Karen Thornton, Wendy Kent, Deborah Thornton, with ZS, and fellow crime authors Richard Jay Parker and Matt Lynn.)

Whenever I’ve toured a new book in the States, I’ve always been more than happy to do library events, but got the impression – rightly or wrongly – that some authors are reluctant to promote the library system. Taken at face value, I can understand this. After all, if a library buys a book and then lends it to a hundred people, that (in theory) is a potential 99 sales lost.

I know whenever I've done library events that there's often a very good take-up of sales alongside them. Many people who use libraries are also voracious book buyers, who borrow books as an extended version of browsing. Many others simply cannot afford to buy new books, particularly hardcovers. I’d rather they used the library, and kept that alive, than scoured second-hand stores and market stalls. Particularly as in the UK struggling authors have PLR as a small safety net.

But now, of course, the cash-strapped government is looking to cut public expenditure dramatically, and PLR is one of the things that’s coming under the microscope by the Department for Culture Media and Sport. The results of the Spending Review are due to be announced on October 20^th.

Meanwhile, there’s a petition you can put your name to, if you feel strongly enough about it. I know, if you’re not a UK author, you may think, why should I? But if you enjoy reading UK authors, please bear in mind that PLR is often the difference between an author being able to continue writing, and having to give it up in favour of more gainful employment.

So, ‘Rati, will you visit and sign the petition, or don’t you feel that authors should receive payment for library lends? What’s your view?

This week’s Word of the Week is quintessential, meaning something it its purest, most concentrated form, the most essential part, form or embodiment of anything. In medieval times, it was thought the world was made up of four corruptible elements: earth, air, fire and water. The heavens came to be regarded as a perfect incorruptible element. In Latin, the quinta essentia, literally, the fifth element.

I’m off on the road from this morning, so I’ll get to comments when I can, but please bear with me.

Permalink | |

Email Article |

Print Article |

10 Comments

Wednesday

Sep012010

In Which I Get You Guys to Do All the Work

Wednesday, September 1, 2010 at 6:00AM in

J.D. Rhoades

Monday night I typed those glorious words “The End” on the first draft of my WIP. Now, I’ll admit, this is a true first draft, meaning that, as it stands now, my new opus blows like a tranny hooker during Fleet Week. But I can already see ways to make it better. I can even see ways that it might even achieve awesomeness, if I can pull it off.

For the moment, however, I’m taking Our Alex’s advice to put it aside for at least a week, after which I’m going to print out her blog post on re-writing, tape it up above my desk, and get back to work.

In the meantime I see that it’s my Wednesday to blog here at Murderati. Only problem is, my brain is burned. All the bearings on the magnificent machine that is my mind are smoking and squealing like the brakes on an 18 wheeler headed down out of the Rockies. I’ve also been so buried in this book, not to mention life and the day job, that once I surfaced, I felt like I’d been asleep for the last month or so. I’m having a hard time even figuring out what’s been happening, much less commenting on it. So I’m asking our loyal readership to fill me in on what’s going on, discuss it, and, not to put too fine a point on it, write this post for me.

Ready? Let’s begin:

Why are people mad at Jonathan Franzen this time?
Apparently, the Wylie Agency and Random House have “struck a truce”. I didn’t even know they were at war. Can someone fill me in on this? Who should I have been pulling for?
So, this new Kindle. Why is it only 139 bucks? Is it because you can only download stuff if you’re in a WiFi hotspot? This wouldn’t really be a problem for me, even living in the sticks like I do, but is there some other feature that you give up for that price that I need to know about? In your opinion, is 139 dollars the tipping point that will make the Kindle 3 as ubiquitous as the Mp3 player?
A six year old got a multi-book contract? WTF?

Lay some wisdom on me, cats n’ kittens.

Bonus question: Was the movie version of WINTER’S BONE freakin’ awesome, or what? I mean, if Jennifer Stewart and John Hawke don’t get Oscar nominations, there is something seriously wrong with the process, am I right?

Permalink | |

Email Article |

Print Article |

24 Comments

tagged

Jonathan Franzen,

Kindle,

publishing business

Tuesday

Aug312010

Warning!

Tuesday, August 31, 2010 at 6:01AM in

Louise Ure

By Louise Ure

I’ve long been a fan of unexpectedly funny warning labels. Like the one on the chainsaw, telling you which end of the saw to hold.

Or this one, for a set of small screwdrivers.

Euuwwww. Where do they get the idea they need to tell us something like this?

I’m even more appreciative of the sly warnings like this one from a U.S. clothing manufacturer in 2006.

A blogger in England recently decided that warning labels also needed to be applied to newspapers and magazines, lest the reader be taken in by a product that did not perform as expected. His suggestions included:

I’ve taken his idea of warning readers a step further: I think we need warning labels on books. Come on … you know the vast majority of Americans don’t read the depth and breadth of fiction we do. They only know the names of the books on the front table at Barnes & Noble, or the title of a book that’s been made into a movie.

We could provide a list of resources and suggestions for them, sure. But wouldn’t it be more fun to warn them away from a purchase they won’t be happy with?

In the spirit of providing this community service, I’ve prepared a set of templates you can print out in the privacy of your own home (Avery labels 5162 in the U.S. and L7651 in the U.K.) and take down to your local book palace for use.

Slap this one on any of my books, or on Karen Olson’s first series. Those half dozen readers who complained so vocally to us would have appreciated it.

Or how about this one on any of the Stieg Larsson books:

I’m personally going to stick this one on the remnant copy of a certain book when the Warner Brothers movie comes out.

And I know a small army of people who would like to print out pages of this one:

This warning label belongs on most “literary fiction”:

And I think Fran at the Seattle Mystery Bookshop might agree with me that either the Angst label or this one should be affixed to the newest James Ellroy oeuvre:

My personal favorite though, is this one: a warning to prevent heaving books across a room:

TSTL is, of course, “too stupid to live”: a character trait found all too often in amateur detective crime novels.

So go ahead. Let me know which pdfs you want. Take ‘em to the bookstore. Future readers will thank you for your work today. But I can’t promise that booksellers or librarians will.

So what about you guys? What warning labels would you like to slap across a book? I’m at the ready to make the labels for you.

Permalink | |

Email Article |

Print Article |

44 Comments

Monday

Aug302010

Which of Your Books Should I Read First?

Monday, August 30, 2010 at 4:00AM in

Alafair Burke

by Alafair Burke

I am a better writer today than I was in 1999 when I started my first book, Judgment Calls.

I make that observation neither to apologize for my debut novel nor to boast about my current abilities. In my humble and biased opinion, Judgment Calls is a good book. I'd say PW and Booklist were probably about right in describing it "a solid first effort" and a "promising debut," respectively. (Proving that reviews can be scattered, The Rocky Mountain News may have been overly generous in comparing it to the "best of the genre," while The UK's Guardian was undoubtedly harsh in dubbing it their "Turkey of the Year.") And though I say I'm a better writer now than I was when I wrote that book, I know I can still develop further in my craft.

But the objective fact remains that I am better today than I was then. So, therefore, are my books. In fact, after just finishing my seventh novel, I can say (and I think my readers would agree) that each novel -- without exception -- has improved upon its predecessors. I chalk the advancements up to hard work and confidence. I try to write every single day, challenging myself to be better with each session. And with each book, I have been more willing to trust my instincts, experiment with form, and follow my characters on their journey.

It turns out I am not the only writer who believes she has improved with age.

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending a Q&A with Lisa Unger at The Mysterious Bookshop in Manhattan about her new book, Fragile. I asked her whether she viewed her earlier books, published before she was married under her maiden name Lisa Miscione, as part of the same body of work, or whether she preferred the later Lisa Unger novels to be treated as works by a different author.

I found her response to be such a wonderful description of how many of us might feel about our development as artists. She expressed a sincere pride in her early books and made clear that she was not one of those writers who seek to distance themselves from certain books through the use of another name. But she also noted that she started her first book, Angel Fire, when she was nineteen years old. She tries to become a better writer everyday (I obviously liked that part). And, interestingly, she said that readers who picked up Angel Fire and Fragile would not recognize them as having been written by the same person because she was not the same as she was as a nineteen-year-old.

Harlan Coben recently found a different way of expressing a similar observation about his own work. When his first novel, Play Dead, was re-released, he wrote the following note for the front of the book:

If you ever doubted Harlan's ability to be humble and funny, you probably don't anymore.

The writers I most admire aren't the ones who shoot out of the gate with a shattering debut that subsequent books just never quite measure up to. They're the ones -- like Lisa and Harlan and Laura Lippman and Michael Connelly and Dennis Lehane and Lee Child and Karin Slaughter-- who keep rolling out bigger and better books, delving deeping into their own souls to find fresh material year after year after year.

But there's one question that I'm asked multiple times a week that must give pause to any writer who believes she's improved with every book: Which of your books should I read first?

In some ways, there's really no better question to find waiting in your e-mail or on your Facebook page. It means a new reader has found you. Someone has heard about you from a friend or has finally seen your name enough times to be interested in your work. Woot!

The downside to the question is you've got to answer it. And what's the right answer, particularly if you write a series? No matter how hard you've tried (as I do) to make each book work as a standalone, most genre readers like to proceed in order. On the other hand, if you've become a better writer with each book, you might know (as I do) that, as proud as you are of that first novel, it's not as good as the last. So, for me at least, there is no short answer.

What I want to tell people is to read in order, but to expect each book to get better and better, and to stick with me through the end. But that sounds simultaneously boastful and apologetic. It also assumes a new reader is going to devote herself to your entire oeuvre. So instead I say each book can be read alone, referring readers to the chronological list on my website.

I have to admit that when asked that impossible question, I wonder whether it would be better to be one of those people who torpedoed out of the gate only to come to a slow limp in later books. And when I say "better," obviously I don't mean better. I guess I mean something like luckier. No, I mean easier.

To explain what I mean, let me invoke some television shows as examples, since I love me some TV. I absolutely loved Desperate Housewives and Ugly Betty at the get-go. Great characters. Great hook. Pulled me right in. And then, you know, stuff happened. Silly stuff. Lame stuff. But I was already invested, so I didn't stop watching. Other shows -- shows like Friday Night Lights and, as I've been told at least, True Blood and Mad Men -- had impressive enough starts but then blossomed into some of the best series on the tube.

Creatively, of course you'd rather be the creator of the higher quality material. But commercially? An early peak can be pretty sticky as far as an audience is concerned. If my first book had been my best, it would be so easy to tell new readers to start there. Start with that first, awesome book, fall in love with the characters, and then stick with me even as I phone it in. See how easy that would be?

But I don't want writing to be easy. I don't want to phone it in. I'm incredibly proud of the fact -- yes, fact -- that I've written seven books in about a decade, each being better than the previous. I hope to write twenty more in the next two decades and be able to say I'm still a better writer every day.

But, my God, that trajectory sure does make it difficult to answer that damn question: Which of your books should I read first?

So what do y'all think? If I writer's early books are good but not as great as the later ones, how do you hook a new reader in? How do you talk about your body of work without apologizing for or distancing yourself from those early books?

If you enjoyed this post, please follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and/or my newsletter.

Permalink | |

Email Article |

Print Article |

tagged

Sunday

Aug292010

Editors

Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:50AM in

Allison Brennan

By Allison Brennan

I’m on a tight deadline and haven’t been online as much as usual, so apologies to my Murderati gang! It’s been . . . hectic. In addition to a book due in three weeks, school started for my kids, and four of the five are in fall sports. Volleyball, Cross Country, Football and Soccer. (Just fall sports are this hectic—fortunately, only one has a winter sport and one has a spring sport, so once we get through Thanksgiving, my schedule will be much, much easier!)

I want to sing the praises of editors today. Good editors. I’ve heard the horror stories from some of my friends about editors who don’t edit, or editors who over-edit, or editors who have a different vision. I’ve been extremely lucky to have the same editors for all my books—#15 is in production and #16 is due in three weeks.

First, the caveat—editors are like agents. Sometimes, a good editor (or agent) and a good writer just don’t click. That doesn’t make the editor bad, or the author, it makes the relationship troublesome. I’ve seen this happen when an author is assigned a different editor for whatever reason (a maternity leave that became permanent, terminations, leaving employment, etc) and the new editor, though terrific, doesn’t “get” the orphaned author, or doesn’t particularly like the author’s style.

Remember, when an editor acquires a book they need to love it. Yes, they want it to sell, and yes they may be viewing it commercially (and since I write commercial fiction, I would expect this!) but they also have to love the book and the author’s voice. They will be reading the book multiple times, they represent the author at the editorial board table, the cover art meetings, sales and marketing, liaison with publicity, juggle schedules, and stand up for the author in-house. An editor is a crucial piece of the publication puzzle because they do so much more than simply edit the manuscript.

But it’s the editing of the manuscript I want to talk about now.

A good editor will not mess with your voice. They won’t demand major story changes because of a whim or rewrite all your sentences.

A good editor will strengthen your voice, will teach you through their edits how to be a stronger storyteller, and ask questions that make you dig deeper into your story and characters.

For example, I had to send in the excerpt from my March book (the one I’m writing now) to be included as a teaser in my January book. I sent the opening chapter (I have a prologue, but I don’t like to put prologues as teasers) which I thought was good. And it was—but my editor made it shine. Minor things, but ended up making my prose stronger. To illustrate, here are the opening two paragraphs of what I sent in, and what I got back with edits.

As the cold wind whipped around her, FBI Agent Suzanne Madeaux lifted the corner of the yellow crime scene tarp covering the dead girl and swore under her breath.

Jane Doe was between the ages of sixteen and nineteen with blonde hair streaked with pink highlights. The teenager wore a pink party dress, and Suzanne absently wondered if she changed her highlights to match her outfit. There was no outward sign of sexual assault or cause of death, but there was no doubt she was the victim of the killer Suzanne had been chasing through the five boroughs of New York City.

Jane Doe wore only one shoe.

Now, the opening paragraphs with editorial line edits:

As the cold wind whipped around her, FBI Agent Suzanne Madeaux lifted the corner of the yellow crime scene tarp covering the dead girl and swore under her breath.

Jane Doe was somewhere between sixteen and nineteen, her blonde hair streaked with pink highlights. The teenager’s party dress was also pink, and Suzanne absently wondered if she changed her highlights to match her outfit. There was no outward sign of sexual assault or an apparent cause of death. Still, there was no doubt this was another victim of the killer Suzanne had been chasing through the five boroughs of New York City.

Jane Doe wore only one shoe.

I’m very happy with this new beginning, and only a few words were added and deleted. The changes streamlined the opening paragraphs and made them stronger without changing the tone or style or story.

But line edits are only one part of editing.

Here are just a few of the questions and comments my editor had in the margins of the original LOVE ME TO DEATH manuscript (some verbiage has been changed to avoid spoilers!)

Too many coincidences with this (specific plot point.)
Can this scene be cut down a bit? I’m concerned that it draws too much attention to itself and readers will be left wondering why they’re learning so much about (character.)
This (section) is too clinical somehow. Revise?
I think this scene works. But you need to be careful with the tenses. You are switching between past and present in a few places. I like having a real villian who is scary and threatening! But I definitely agree with you that his POV should be introduced earlier.
This seems too obvious to state.
Would love to know Lucy's thought process here? Why is she looking into the prison records? What is her hunch? What is she looking for or thinks she'll find?
I feel like her rational for doing the research could be stronger. Feels a little flimsy.
Need to make (this plot point) clearer when they make the connection. What they think is going on...
I feel like we are missing a scene where Sean and Lucy exchange information. For instance when does she learn about (this situation)?

And because editors know that writers need praise, there were positive comments sprinkled throughout so I don’t think the entire book is complete garbage!

One problem I have in writing is that I become so absorbed in the story, I write and rewrite it so many times, that sometimes I think I put in a scene but deleted it in a rewrite because I erroneously thought it repeated information. An editor sees the story several times, but the first pass through—where she’s seeing the story all there for the first time—she’ll catch things that get missed in all the writing and rewriting. I am so close to the story, so immersed, that I think I write things because I thought of it. It’s one reason why no one should be the final proofreader of their own work. I’ll “read” a word that isn’t there because my mind fills in the word that “should” be there. Same goes with storytelling as a whole.

One of the things I always forget is describing my characters. I usually don’t do this until I revise, and sometimes I forget and my editor catches it. I know exactly what my characters look like. So when I re-read, I think my mind fills in the description without it actually being on the paper :/

I would love to believe that whatever I write is brilliant and without the need for editing. But when I think I don’t need an editor, my career is over. I’m a far better writer today than I was sixteen books ago. Line edits are lighter because I’ve absorbed the unspoken lessons I learned by analyzing why certain changes were made. Yet, I need a good editor to continue to help me grow as a storyteller. I still have a long way to go. It might take a hundred books before I don’t need help . . . naw. I’ll need an editor then, too.

Who's someone who made you a better person/writer/professional? Who made you stronger than you thought you could be?

Permalink | |

Email Article |

Print Article |

tagged