THE JEALOUS AUTHOR'S WISH LIST

by Gar Anthony Haywood

I have Author's Envy.

We all do.  No matter where a writer is in his career, there is always another one somewhere who makes him green with envy.

For instance, we all wish to God we had this woman's money:

And, except for those of us lucky enough to be even better looking, we would all like to have this guy's face:

(Yes, even the ladies.  He's that pretty.)

But enough about the superficial.  The objects of envy I want to post about today are those that go beyond the obvious.  Sure, I covet the way some authors write dialogue or craft plot, tell a story or create character --- but these are all skills of the trade I could conceivably develop over time.  The things I want most that other writers have have little or nothing to do with writing, per se.  For the most part, they are intangible.  They cannot be bought or sold.  They are lines on an unwritten resume that, in my mind, help make certain authors unique.  And since I can't claim these things for myself, I am envious of those who can.

Here are the specific traits and possessions I'm referring to:

The Generosity of LEE CHILD

Okay, show of hands: How many people out there have asked Lee Child for something --- a blurb, a signature, a few minutes of his time --- and been turned away?  Nobody?  Anybody?

I didn't think so.

If anyone in our business can afford to be less than gracious to others, it's Mr. Child, but that kind of behavior just isn't in his DNA.   He lends an all new, respectable heft to the otherwise lightweight term "nice guy."

The Self-Confidence of SOPHIE LITTLEFIELD

Anyone who's ever heard Sophie describe how she got her first book, A BAD DAY FOR SORRY, sold knows it wasn't a particularly easy road to hoe.  Because not every editor who read the manuscript was charmed by some of the language she likes to use.  She was encouraged on several occasions, in fact, to tone it down, if not eliminate it altogether.

But Sophie held her ground.  Her voice was her voice, and hell if she was going to change it just to get published.

Aren't those of us who've read her work thankful she had that kind of faith in herself?

The Voice of GARY PHILLIPS

I don't want the angry squint, nor the imposing, Sumo-like form factor.  He can keep his booming laugh and signature porkpie hat.  I just want Phillips's trademark speaking voice.  With that voice, I could do readings to make grown men weep and women swoon.   I could moderate panels with the authority of Zeus and stop a convention bar fight with a single call to "Cease!"

Never heard Gary speak, you say?  Well, it's sort of like this, only more powerful:

The Honesty of LEE GOLDBERG

Let's face it, when you're trying to build a readership and every live, book-buying body counts, honesty isn't always the best policy.  Saying the wrong thing, to fans and fellow authors alike, can have consequences, regardless of how much truth is in the telling.

Incredibly, Goldberg has managed to build a leviathan-like career, both in television and mystery fiction, saying what he feels needs to be said while staring any possible repercussions square in the face.  He offends and he ruffles feathers, but he always tells it like he sees it, without malice aforethought.

I've been on the receiving end of his Searing Blade of Truth myself at least once, so I know how much it can sting.  Still, there's something to be said for a man in our business, in which discretion almost always pays better than being frank, who consistently answers a question with what he really thinks, rather than what the questioner would most like to hear.

The Output of LAWRENCE BLOCK

Being prolific is one thing.  Being prolific and damn good, time and time again, is quite another.  Over a career spanning more than fifty years and multiple genres, Block's been churning out novels and short stories the way McDonald's makes hamburgers.  With that kind of production, you'd think he'd turn out a dud or two.  But no.  Quality plus quantity is how this Mystery Writers of America Grand Master rolls, and that's what makes his vast body of work so impressive.

LAURA LIPPMAN's Mastery of Social Networking

Neither Allison Pearson's 2002 book I DON'T KNOW HOW SHE DOES IT, nor its recent film adaptation, has anything to do with Laura Lippman, as far as I know, but that doesn't stop me from thinking of her every time I hear that title.  Because in addition to writing some ungodly number of words towards her next New York Times bestseller, her daily regimen also seems to include supervising home repairs, tracking down the world's best citrus butter cookies, composing open letters to JetBlue, putting younger women to shame at the gym, and informing a growing mob of fans and followers of all the above, as it happens, via every social networking platform yet known to Man.

If all her tweets and posts read like those of some ("Just brushed my teeth.  Next up, flossing."  Or: "Will be signing Sunday at Harriet's Pickles & More, would love to see you there."), this last wouldn't be so amazing.  But Ms. Lippman's missives are always cute, clever, and just goofy enough to be entertaining.

While others wield the power of social networking like a club with which to beat potential readers into submission, Laura makes a party invite of it, and to far greater effect.

ALAFAIR BURKE's Dog

Okay, this one I admit is a little creepy.  But readers love pets, and nothing makes them happier than knowing that their favorite author is a pet lover, too.  Do some writers use this knowledge to their advantage?  Yes.  And do some even go so far as to pimp their dog or cat just to steer readers in their direction?  Absolutely.  Is Alafair Burke one of those writers?  No.

No.

But goddamnit, the Duffer is cute.  And if an author has to have an animal best friend in order to maximize their sales potential these days, then it may as well be a canine as handsome as this guy.  Woof!

Question for the class: What does your "Author's Envy" list look like?

Which of Your Books Should I Read First?

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?

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I'd Know Laura Lippman Anywhere

I'm sure other crime writers out there would agree that one of the finest perks of this writing gig is being part of a community of tremendously talented and suprisingly humble writers.  To form friendships with writers whose words you've known and loved for years, and to hear them discuss their craft, is pretty darn cool. 

Even among our nifty community, some authors have a special ability to articulate their commitment to and relationship with storytelling.  I think Laura Lippman is one of our best, both as an author on the page and as a spokesperson for the genre. 

Laura is the President of Mystery Writers of America

If you're reading Murderati, you probably already know a little about Laura.  A former journalist, she has won the Agatha, Anthony, Edgar, Nero, Gumshoe, and Shamus awards.  She is routinely mentioned as one of this generation's finest crime writers.    

Laura's new book, I'd Know You Anywhere, hits stores tomorrow.  It has already earned starred reviews from Publisher's Weekly and Booklist.  It is is one of Amazon's Top 10 Picks for August and also an Indie Next pick.  "Stoked by stinging dialogue and arresting evocations of the fog of fear, doubt, and guilt versus the laser-lock pursuit of survival, Lippman’s taut, mesmerizing, and exceptionally smart drama of predator and prey is at once unusually sensitive and utterly compelling." - Booklist

On the eve of her launch, Laura, with her trademark generosity, agreed to answer a few of my burning questions.

1.  Tell us a little bit about your new novel, I'd Know You Anywhere.

To me, it's a fairly simple story: A woman who has managed to create a happy, contented life for herself despite being the victim of a horrible crime is forced to confront that crime years after the fact when a man writes her from Death Row. She is his only living victim and he wishes to speak to her before he dies. She's terrified of speaking to him, but also terrified of not speaking to him. And she has no idea how to tell her children about what happened to her.

2.  You've written with such detail and heart about your hometown of Baltimore.  For this book, you've taken Eliza to the suburbs of Washington, D.C.  How does an author's choice about location affect the novel as a whole, and why did you decide on this location for I'd Know You Anywhere? 

I am a homebody and I've always gravitated to fiction with a strong sense of place. But part of Eliza's dilemma is that she doesn't feel at home anywhere in the world. Her family moved in order to grant her greater anonymity, but that well-intentioned change has led to a general feeling of dislocation. She has lived in London and Houston and now D.C., but she's not really at home in any of those places.

3.  You often find inspiration for your plots in real-life crime stories.  Where did Eliza's story originate?

There was a serial killer who let one of his victims live. Because that person is still alive and has a somewhat unusual name, I've decided to say no more. I got to thinking about the case one day and suddenly thought: Oh my god, what's it like to be that person?

4.  You and I share a fascination with the frailty of human memory.  How did you get interested in memory?  How has your study of our fallibility as historians and narrators affected your writing, both as a journalist and in fiction?

I used to think I had a great memory. Maybe I did. I got good grades, I was on a quiz team. But a few years ago, my husband told a story he had told many times, and a friend of his shot it down. I think that started my fascination, the idea that someone could have a story that was right, emotionally, but wrong on almost every detail.

Now I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that my memory is bad. But you know what? I think most people my age have bad memories. Perhaps imperfect is a better word. You and I saw each other a week ago. I don't remember what you were wearing. I can't even remember your shoes! I can, however, remember what we had for lunch at Coquette in New Orleans back in January. (I had that divine grilled cheese sandwich and you had P&J oysters, which are on my mind because P&J had to close down because of the BP spill.) I have a friend who says she can remember every restaurant meal and WHERE SHE SAT in the restaurant. And it's not like she goes out to eat only once or twice a year. She's a foodie.

I will say that I would find it hard to be a journalist again because so much of journalism relies on people's memories. Bill Bryson has a nice line in THE LIFE AND TIMES OF THE THUNDERBOLT KID, about how the memoir is true to his memory. But my memory seems full of blank spaces. I think fiction takes up too much real estate in my head. If you think about it, novelists are living multiple lives. It gets confusing.

5.  You move so successfully between standalones and your Tess Monaghan series (when you're not writing killer short stories).  When you have an idea for a book, how do you decide whether it's a Tess novel or a standalone?

A Tess novel is about Tess. That sounds simplistic to the point of being moronic, but while all the Tess books center on a mystery/murder, the real story is what's happening to Tess. If she can't be at the center of the book, it can't be a Tess novel. The idea for Every Secret Thing forced me to confront that notion. I am Tess's Boswell, for better or worse.

The stand-alones, by contrast, are more idea driven. What are the responsibilities inherent in survival? Does everyone deserve a second chance, a fresh start? Is there a right way to grieve, do we promote closure for the grieving or for ourselves, so we might feel better? Why do girls break each other's hearts? At what point does a parent's advocacy for his child cross the line and harm someone else's child.

6.   You were gracious enough to headline a dinner for the New York Chapter of Mystery Writers of America last fall.  One of the guests asked you which writers' careers you would most like to have.  I know you mentioned the uber-talented Megan Abbott among others.  I think many of us would also mention you.  Your writing just gets better and better.  What advice do you have for writers who are just getting started at a time when the publishing industry seems increasingly impatient for early commercial success?

I'm going to be honest: I worry a lot that I am not confronting these issues because the current system is treating me well. There's a part of me that's sort of la-la-la, fingers in my ears, I can't hear you! So maybe I'm not the best person to give advice. That said -- how can you go wrong, putting the lion's share of your writing time, whatever it is, into being a better writer? What do you have to lose by writing the best book you can? Writing a novel is a better gig than digging ditches, but it takes a lot of time. What do you want to have to show for that time? Money? Good luck, and I mean that in the best sense: Good luck, you'll need it, because luck is a big part of making money in fiction writing. Great reviews? I've had great reviews. I've had lousy reviews. Neither changed me. The bad reviews hurt more than they should have, the good reviews failed to make me younger and thinner, so what good were they? Awards? For everyone out there salivating to win awards, let me ask you this: Who won the Edgar for Best Novel in 2009? I was there and I can't remember. (Then again, see bad memory, above. I do remember your Grandmaster tribute. Oh, wait, I just remembered: C.J. Box won. But it took me a while.)

Look, if you don't HAVE TO write, don't. Be happy. Go live in the world. But if you want to be a writer, then want to be a writer. Not a millionaire, not someone who's beloved by strangers, not a guy, like Dan Brown, who can arrive at the airport without his license or passport and grab a copy of his novel to use as ID. Those are all fun things, but they have zilch to do with writing. Write. Write your way. Don't tell anyone else how to do it and don't let anyone tell you how to do it.

As for the publishing industry: Whatever shape it takes, professionalism is always valued. Meet deadlines, be nice. It's amazing how far those two things will take you.

See why this fawning fan girl finds such inspiration?

7.  We share a love for good food.  What's the most ludicrous thing you've ever done to partake in a good meal?

A week ago, Mr. Lippman and I finished a meeting in New York City and had to head for home. But, of course, we were going to eat lunch first. I threw out Di Fara, the Brooklyn pizza place that I think might have the best slice in the world. I used the I Want ap on my iPhone, checked the hours, got directions. We drove through hideous traffic only to find it was closed for vacation! And one of Mr. Lippman's cousins had driven in from Long Island to have lunch with us. So we drove to Totonno's on Coney Island. It was worth it. To be candid, I was a little bummed we let our cousin have the leftovers. Totonno's pizza travels really well. A few hours later, we were at the Walt Whitman rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike and I was yearning for that leftover pizza.


Great, now I'm hungry for pizza.  And for yet another Laura Lippman novel.  Learn more about I'D KNOW YOU ANYWHERE and Laura at her website.  She's also fun to follow on Facebook.

Please feel free to leave comments for Laura below.

I'm curious: Have you read Laura's novels?  Which are your favorites?  And what are you reading right now?

Friends, again... meet Alafair Burke

by Toni McGee Causey

One of the very best things about being a member of a blog like this is that we occasionally get to interview really cool people... and sometimes we get lucky and get to interview other members of the blog. I was particularly thrilled when Alafair Burke joined us here at Murderati, as I'd been a fan of her work and had heard great things about her, but it was a special kick to get to interview her on the occasion of her newest book which is about to appear in the bookstores, titled 212.

First, if you haven't really met Alafair, you should know that (and this is directly from her website) she is a former deputy district attorney, and now teaches criminal law at Hofstra Law School. She's got a fascinating background in law as well as literature, and if you haven't checked out her website, you're missing a treat.

The other really really cool thing about being a member of this blog is that I occasionally get to read my fellow blogmates' books ahead of their drop dates. And yes, I am going to be all gleeful and smug about it, because, dayem, they are fine writers and I'm immensely lucky just to be a part of this group. I couldn't wait to get my paws on Alafair's latest, and I have to tell you, it showed up in the midst of great personal upheaval (my father-in-law was in hospice at that time, and we knew the end was near), and I feared my concentration would be nil...  and instead, I was utterly captivated. (Check out the video... and the excerpt for 212.) 

This story is not just ripped from the headlines, but it digs deep into those headlines and exposes the kind of ramifications few in-depth exposé's could even hope to reveal. In an age when newspapers are glib about how politicians hire expensive call girls and in a day when those very same call girls can later become on air personalities, we've become accustomed to reporters just barely skimming over the reality of how deadly and compromising that particular crime actually is. In 212, Alafair explores the ramifications of two intersecting crimes--politicians hiring escort services and online stalking--and shows not only the harrowing results, but the determination of good people who are trying to find the truth, trying to make a difference. Her detective, Ellie Hatcher, is a stand-out, memorable woman you're going to want to know as she battles her way through lies and deceit to try to stop a killer from striking again, even in the midst of personal risk to her own career to do so.

I couldn't put the book down. 

Alafair's got a lot of information up on her site, but I got the chance last week to ask her a few more questions:

1) You write New York as someone comfortable and familiar with the city, like it's a second skin. I know you've lived elsewhere growing up, so tell me about your impressions of New York when you first visited or moved there... and how those first impressions changed (or were validated) after you'd been there for a while.

I first visited New York during the Son of Sam year of 1977.  My father's friends told of us tales of carrying mugger money around - small bills in a fake wallet to hand to the muggers instead of the real stuff.  Then as an adult, I came here as a tourist, staying most in midtown, seeing broadway shows and museums, and dining at restaurants I saw on Sex and the City.  Now that I live here, I rarely go to those kinds of places and am annoyed when I do.  The places I cherish are little neighborhood spots that would have surely underwhelmed me as a tourist looking to take in the "Big Apple." 

2) Was there a defining moment when you felt more native New Yorker than not? What was that moment and how did it affect your perception of yourself? Your vocation?

The defining moment was more like a two-stage process.  I remember standing in the TKTS line (discount theater tickets) at Times Square when I first moved to the city.  I looked up at the lights and signs and thought, "Wow, I really live here.  I'm even insider enough to buy discounted tickets."  Within a year, I dreaded the thought of walking through Times Square with all of those skyline-gazing tourists blocking the sidewalk.  There's a superficial roughness to New Yorkers that I understand now, but once you scratch beneath it, the people in this city are about as goodhearted as people can be. 

3) You've chosen two professions which aren't exactly known to be easy on a person's schedule, often costing hundreds of hours of late night work to stay caught up. What enticed you about becoming an attorney? Similarly, what enticed you about becoming a writer? How are the two similar? Different? If there was one way you could prep better for each vocation, what would that be?

When I went to law school, I didn't know whether I wanted to be a high-priced entertainment lawyer putting together deals at the Ivy or a civil rights lawyer working for the Southern Poverty Law Center.  Given my lifetime fascination with crime, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that I had a real passion for criminal law.  I worked as a prosecutor for five years and was motivated to write by the stories I saw unfold there.  I thought I'd seen a side to the criminal justice system that wasn't frequently portrayed in crime fiction.  They both require an ability to tell a story and incredible discipline, but writing requires a different kind of creativity that find liberating and sometimes incredibly frustrating.

4) In several of your posts and elsewhere, you've shown a sly, wry sense of humor that we all enjoy. What's the zaniest thing (legal) that you've done that you can admit to us?

Oh lord.  I'm ashamed to admit that my craziest act was completely accidental. I went to a different branch from my usual gym.  This was back before I could afford a gym that gave you human-sized towels.  All they had were these little hand-sized things.  I was wondering around the locker room searching for the shower stalls, walked through a door, and wound up in the free-weight room. Warning: some locker rooms have multiple exits.

5) What is something that people who meet you for the first time are most surprised to learn about you?

I have really low-brow taste.  I like bad movies, pop music, and hot dog carts. I'm also very handy.

6) In your new novel, 212, coming out March 23rd, NYPD Detective Ellie Hatcher is drawn into a case that you've described in your acknowledgements as inspired by recent headlines: politicians, escort services, innocent by-standers, cover-ups and downfalls. You've created a vivid, layered world where nothing is obvious and you keep us riveted all the way through as Ellie has to peel away layer after layer to try to find the truth before it's too late. Tell us a little bit about Ellie, 212, and your process--how you chose this particular type of headline and why you wanted to investigate the ramifications.

Ellie Hatcher is an NYPD homicide detective who, like me, finds herself working in the same field as her father and tries to avoid the inevitable comparisons.  Also like me, she grew up in Wichita, Kansas when a serial killer was active, stalking, torturing, and murdering children and women.  Unlike me, Ellie's father was a cop who spent his life hunting that killer until he was found shot in his own car. Labeled a suicide, her father's death has never been resolved for Ellie.

The cases in 212 were inspired by a few real-life stories.  For years I've been pulling at threads of stories inspired by Neil Goldschmidt, a former governor of Oregon who admitted in 2004 that he had what he termed an "affair" in the 1970s with his then-14-year-old babysitter.  Many people in Portland were accused of knowing about the abuse and assisting the cover-up, including a man who subsequently became the Multnomah County Sheriff.  I'd been reluctant to write about the case immediately.  Portland's a small place.  I worked with Goldschmidt's stepdaughter at the DA's Office.  I worked closely with a law enforcement officer who was implicated in the cover-up.  But the story of a man who'd done so much good in public life rationalizing a so-called "affair" with a child -- and my imagined story of the woman that child came to be as she grew up in the shadow of his political ascension -- kept pulling at me.  More than five years after the scandal, my hope was to pursue a fictional story inspired by the real one.  Using the role of the internet in the modern sex industry, I found a fresh angle.

7) On the lighter side for a moment, what's your most unusual hobby?

Maybe this goes along with my lowbrow taste, but I really like karaoke.  And not in a hip, ironic way, but in an earnest American-Idol loving, Glee-watching, sing-your-heart-out way.  I think every book conference needs a karaoke session. Wouldn't that be great?  At Bouchercon, the playlist could be made up entirely of crime-related songs.

8) And... finally, if you only could choose five words to describe yourself for posterity, what would they be?

Loved.  Was loved.  Appreciated both.

Alafair is hosting a really cool offer for a mystery gift for everyone who pre-orders 212 before it hits all of the bookstores on Tuesday, March 23rd -- which means, you only have a couple of days left to take advantage of this terrific opportunity!

Meanwhile, tell me what ripped-from-the-headlines story you'd love to explore a bit more about? Is there a story you felt the press should have investigated more thoroughly? In this age of giving starlets 24/7 coverage if they hiccup, do you feel like we're glamorizing everything that should be news? Or do you feel we're getting into the gritty depths like we should?

Literary Look-Alikes: Who are the Doppelgangers?

Over at Facebook, folks are winding down Doppelganger Week, which called on Facebook users to change their profile picture to a celebrity they've been said to resemble.

As it turns out, I've been said to resemble a broad array of celebrities.  When I was in college, my father (around the same time he said my two sisters looked like Jessica Lange and Kim Basinger, respectively), maintained that I looked "just like" these knockouts:

Apparently age has treated me well, however.  More recently, I've been compared to these women:

Um, yeah... right.  Although I'm much happier to be compared to Kate Hudson or that actress who temporarily ruined Law & Order than either of the Rosies, I conclude from this mish mash of non-matching faces that I may not have a celebrity doppelganger.  But, lucky for me, other writers do.

You see, much like my father, I also have a tendency to swear that people look "just like" someone else.  I can't run into Andrew Gross, for example, without reminding him he looks like that totally hot kid on Weeds.

  

 And poor Michael Koryta has surely lost count of the times I've pointed out his resemblance to David Duchovny.

 

Marcus Sakey's probably sick of hearing that he looks like Starsky.

 

The late JD Salinger bore a strong resemblance to George Gershwin.

JA Konrath sort of looks like Ben Roethlisberger.

And Barry Eisler might as well change his last name to Baldwin.

It turns out some writers have lookalikes I hadn't thought of. Jason Pinter also played Doppelganger Week, posting a photo of Al Gore.  Now, Jason, can you say "Lockbox?"

Laura Lippman tells me she's often compared to Susan Dey.  No surprise there, right? 

  

But I was beyond amused to hear that in profile, she's a dead ringer for a fellow journalist who loved Underdog, Sweet Polly Purebred.

With some writers, the identification of a lookalike's a little more challenging.  And, boy, do I like a challenge.

With someone like James Born, for example, it depends which photograph you select.  In some pictures he looks a lot like that writer who once said I looked like Rosie O'Donnell.

But in other pictures, Jim, I've got to say it, you look more like MacGyver.

 

In my constant quest to identify lookalikes, I have an irritating tendency to tell friends they look like X and Y had a baby.  Harlan Coben, for example, looks like the offspring of Tony Shalhoub and Stanley Tucci.

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And Victor Gischler could be the long-lost love child of Meat Loaf and Mario Batali.  (Wow, that sentence  actually made me hungry.)

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 So here's today's challenge: Who are the other doppelgangers?  Do you have one, and this a good thing or bad?  And which other writers have lookalikes that I've missed?  Psychic gold stars for those who include links to photos!