With All Undue Respect

Zoë Sharp

“From what I've seen of you, Zoë, you treat people with a respect you somehow do not expect to receive yourself.”

This was said to me a month or so ago by someone I’ve known for a long time, if not closely. I had no idea he’d observed me well enough to form such an opinion one way or another.

My first instinct was denial. Or not quite denial but certainly qualification. Respect is not something that can be expected—not in the present world.

It has to be worked for, earned.

And once you have it, you can’t simply hang it above the fireplace like a dusty stag’s head trophy and expect admiration from all comers. It has to be carefully maintained or the moths will turn it into little more than a memory.

“I’m not concerned with your liking or disliking of me … All I ask is that you respect me as a human being.”―Jackie Robinson

Respect is a living entity, always shifting, always in motion—much like the stag before someone shot and stuffed it.

One false move, and it’s gone.

I respect someone who has a no-nonsense competence without allowing their ego to enter the equation. It should be possible to be good at what you do without making yourself thoroughly unpleasant in the process.

But it seems to me that modern society will break down not because of some great catastrophe, but because of a series of tiny personal injustices. How many times recently have you experienced the following?

~Watched someone pick up a piece of litter they did not drop?

~Been let out into traffic by someone who had to inconvenience themselves to do so, rather than because they had to stop anyway?

~Been thanked by someone you’ve let out into traffic when you had to inconvenience yourself to do so, rather than because you had to stop anyway?

~Have a door held open?

~Had a car slow down to pass you walking along a wet road so you weren’t splashed?

~Been invited to go ahead by the person before you at the supermarket checkout because they’re shopping for a siege and you have only a few items?

These may seem like trivial examples—and indeed they are—but they are also the niceties of civilisation that make us human.

So, ’Rati, what petty injustices have you witnessed recently, or what random small acts of kindness?

Instead of a Word of the Week, this time round I have a selection of quotations on the subject of respect—or lack of it.

“You should respect each other and refrain from disputes; you should not, like water and oil, repel each other, but should, like milk and water, mingle together.”―Buddha

“They cannot take away our self-respect if we do not give it to them.”―Mohandas K. Gandhi

“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.”―Richard Bach

“Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.”―Malcom X

“If you have ten thousand regulations you destroy all respect for the law.”―Winston Churchill

“I get no respect. The way my luck is running, if I was a politician I would be honest.”―Rodney Dangerfield

“Men are so willing to respect anything that bores them.”―Marilyn Monroe

“When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or compete, everybody will respect you.”―Lao Tzu

“I never make the mistake of arguing with people for whose opinions I have no respect.”―Edward Gibbon

“To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only the truth.”―Voltaire

“In order to acquire a growing and lasting respect in society, it is a good thing, if you possess great talent, to give, early in your youth, a very hard kick to the right shin of the society that you love. After that, be a snob.”―Salvador Dali

“I do respect people's faith, but I don't respect their manipulation of that faith in order to create fear and control.”―Javier Bardem

“Respect for ourselves guides our morals, respect for others guides our manners.”―Laurence Sterne

“I don't have a lot of respect for talent. Talent is genetic. It's what you do with it that counts.”―Martin Ritt

“I respect my limitations, but I don't use them as an excuse.”―Stephen R. Donaldson

“If you are killed because you are a writer, that's the maximum expression of respect, you know.”―Mario Vargas Llosa

‘“With the greatest respect,” I said. Always a nice phrase to use when you intend to speak without any.’―Charlie Fox

And on a slight note of BSP, <cough> this week saw the US publication of DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten.

"Zoë Sharp is one of the sharpest, coolest, and most intriguing writers I know. She delivers dramatic, action-packed novels with characters we really care about. And once again, in DIE EASY, Zoë Sharp is at the top of her game."—New York Times best-seller, Harlan Coben

What happens at Harrogate (stays at Harrogate)

Zoë Sharp

This is a two-part post, really. The first part has to be about last weekend’s Harrogate Crime Writing Festival, part of the International Festivals and one of the biggest literary events in the UK.

And a hoot. An absolute hoot.

I didn’t go to take part this year, although I’ve been lucky enough in the past to be on several panels. This time, as they say, I went purely for the craic.‡

Rather bizarrely, most of the photographs from Harrogate have me cuddling other authors. It was purely platonic, honest! But it does show in general what a terrific bunch crime writers―and readers―are.

I could mention all the fun stuff that went on, like everybody at our table in the restaurant on Saturday night trying on Russel D McLean's rather splendid hat. And that included the waiters, too :)

I could also mention that I was adopted as a surrogate mum by Katherine Heubeck, Adele Wearing and I think possibly by Vincent Holland-Keen as well (who took the pic above, by the way). Be nice to me kiddies, or everything goes to Battersea Dogs' Home ...

Just in case the tax man is reading this, it was not only great fun, but also an incredibly useful event from a networking point of view. I now have a promised blurb and a swap excerpt for the new series book, DIE EASY: Charlie Fox book ten, which is out in the UK in Oct; I have some terrific advice on graphic novels from Gregg Hurwitz, (pictured with fellow thriller author KD Kinchen) who has a wonderfully British sense of humour; I was asked for several review copies of my books and short stories to be sent out; and I received invites to do five guest blogs or interviews. How lovely is that?

In particular, I found reaction to the news I’d penned a supernatural thriller, currently being test-read, very interesting. Some people were more intrigued than they’ve ever been by my crime thrillers.

Hmm, what does this tell me?

Well, following on from David’s blog of yesterday, it tells me I should spread my wings more. The supernatural story is one I’ve been bursting to tell for years, but something always got in the way. And besides, I was always being told “you’re a crime writer” so I was always careful not to step on the cracks in the pavement, just in case Something Bad happened.

Now, to be frank, I’m not sure I care. I simply want to tell stories about characters in conflict, regardless of whether the cause of that conflict is supernatural, futuristic, psychological or straightforwardly criminal. And when you take the constraints of a specific genre away, the freedom is like a shot in the arm.

My question to you is, what was the last thing that gave you a burst of renewed enthusiasm for what you do? What effect did it have? And why?

And for all of you who heard various things about the ‘Wanted For Murder: the e-book’ panel at Harrogate, which I attended, here’s Stephen Leather’s take on what happened.

The debate is still raging …

‡ Craic is this week’s Word of the Week. It means news, gossip, fun entertainment and enjoyable conversation, particularly used in Ireland, having been borrowed from northern English crack, meaning news or conversation, and then reimported with the far more attractive spelling of craic. This also helps differentiate it from the new slang meaning of crack, as in crack cocaine …

And finally, our own talented PD Martin, writing as Pippa Dee, has penned a spooky new tale:

A tortured face, a haunted hotel and an obsession to solve the mystery. GROUNDED SPIRITS is part ghost story, part mystery and part historical fiction—set in Ireland in both the current day and the 1820s. For the next two days, it's free on Amazon! 

The story is based on a real hotel in Ennis, Ireland, that is rumored to be haunted. The painting described in the story does, indeed, exist—a photograph of the tortured face is included in the book and that face appears on the book's cover (to the left).

Download it quick while it’s free!

Amazon US

Amazon UK

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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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.

+     =

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

+     =

 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!