Just Put the Word "Club" at the End

by Maria Geraci

First off, I’d like to thank Susan and the rest of the Stiletto gang for hosting me on their blog today. The minute I heard the name of the blog it brought a smile to my face, and I immediately knew the theme of my post. I’m here to talk about gangs (not the east LA kind. That would be a different post all together). I’m talking about the sort of gangs we women know and love--and that would be Clubs.

I looked up the word in my handy dandy online thesaurus because I was curious how many synonyms I could find for the words gang or club. There were roughly a few dozen. Here are some examples: bunch, circle, clan, clique, cronies, assemblage, pack, posse, bunch, clump, galaxy, squad and yes, even mafia. I could go on, but you get my drift. There are a lot of words to describe the same thing. The word gang itself has several different meanings, but the bottom line is this: it’s a group of people with something in common.

I think I must be drawn to gangs. My first two books were about a group of women who play Bunco. If you don’t know what Bunco is, I’ll tell you. It’s a fun, fast paced dice game usually played by women. Think men’s poker night but substitute the cards and the cigars and the beers with dice and gossip and frozen margaritas. What it really is is an excuse for women to get together. Women crave the company of other women. The phenomenon starts all the way back in preschool, when little girls are drawn to each other to play and hold hands and giggle and talk. That camaraderie is something I think we crave till the day we hit the nursing home. I also think it’s the reason why books with the word “club” in the title are so popular. As women, we love reading about the relationships we have with other women and the word “club” is keyed in our brain to trigger some sort of pleasant reaction (work with me here).

Here’s a few examples:

The Friday Night Knitting Club
The First Love Cookie Club
The Sex Club (he!)
The Babysitter’s Club (starting us out early with that theme)
The Joy Luck Club
The Hot Flash Club (yes, this is a book and I just might have to go get it!)
The Professors’ Wives Club
The Coffin Club (not one club I’d necessarily want to join…)
The Wildwater Walking Club
The Cougar Club (great read!)

I could go on and on because there are dozens more literary titles that end with the word club. And while there are countless awesome synonyms that mean the same thing, somehow The Cougar Mafia or The Joy Luck Posse just don’t sound quite right.

So I’m hoping that my latest foray into literature, The Boyfriend of the Month Club, will be as successful as some of those books I just mentioned. It’s a romantic comedy about a woman who turns her dysfunctional book club into a boyfriend club, where women discuss the men they’ve dated comparing them to classic literary heroes and villains. I got the idea for the book while attending a friend’s book club meeting (book clubs--another great excuse for women to get together!) It’s getting some great reviews, but the one I personally like best comes from Julie at What Women Write, who calls it “Dorothea Benton Frank Meets My Big Fat Greek…er Cuban Wedding.” How perfect is that?

The Boyfriend of the Month Club
Berkley Trade Paperback
December 2010

At thirty, Grace O’Bryan has dated every loser that Daytona Beach has to offer. After the ultimate date-from-hell, Grace decides to take matters into her own hands and turns her dwindling book club into a Boyfriend of the Month Club, where women can come together to discuss the eligible men in their community. Where are the real live twenty-first century versions of literary heroes such as Heathcliff and Mr. Darcy? Could it be successful and handsome Brandon Farrell, who is willing to overlook his disastrous first date with Grace and offers financial help for her parents’ failing Florida gift shop? Or maybe sexy dentist Joe Rosenblum, who’s great with a smile but not so great at commitment? Unfortunately, just like books, men cannot always be judged by their covers…

If you’d like to know more about me and my writing, please visit my website at http://www.mariageraci.com/. I’m currently holding a fabulous contest. Purchase The Boyfriend of the Month Club on or before December 12, and you can enter to win a grand prize of a $100 Amazon gift card, plus a bag filled with some wonderful autographed women’s fiction. There are also 5 runners-up prizes of a $20 Amazon gift card and a special edition Boyfriend of the Month Club desk top calendar. Contest details on are the homepage of my website. I’d also love it you joined my facebook page http://www.facebook.com/MariaGeraciBooks

**Maria, thanks so much for visiting our little gang (hee hee) today! We loved having you and wish you loads of success!!! Also, Maria is giving away signed copies of The Boyfriend of the Month Club and Susan McBride's The Cougar Club today on her Facebook page! All you have to do is comment to be entered!

Sleazy Protagonists

L.J. Sellers is an award-winning journalist and the author of the Detective Jackson mystery/suspense series. The Sex Club, Secrets to Die For, and Thrilled to Death have been highly praised by Mystery Scene and Spinetingler magazines. Her fourth Jackson story, Passions of the Dead, has just been released. All four novels are on Amazon Kindle’s bestselling police procedural list. L.J. also has two standalone thrillers, The Baby Thief and The Suicide Effect. When not plotting murders, she enjoys performing standup comedy, cycling, social networking, and attending mystery conferences. She’s also been known to jump out of airplanes.

Alcoholics, sex addicts, porn stars, thieves, and kidnappers. In today’s crime fiction, these characters are often the protagonists, and as a reader, I’m expected to root for them. I rarely can. I’ve put down many well written and well plotted novels lately because the main character was not someone I could relate to.

For example, in one story, the protagonist—a reformed criminal, living a good life—participated in a kidnapping to keep himself from going to jail. If I had not been reading the book for discussion, I would have put it down immediately. I skimmed through the rest, uncaring. For me, there was little point in reading about a protagonist I wanted to see caught and punished. Especially since I predicted the book wouldn’t turn out that way (and it didn’t).
In another story, the character was well developed, resourceful, and good-hearted and I really wanted to like her. But the world she inhabited was sleazy and everyone she encountered gave me the creeps. Despite the terrific writing, I finally gave up, because spending too much time in her world was a little revolting.

Don’t get me wrong. I love crime fiction! And I’m certainly not a prude. I write a mystery/suspense series, and the first book is called The Sex Club. My main character is a homicide detective who’s a hardworking family man. Not perfect, by any means, but he’s also not a cynical, pill-popping alcoholic with dysfunctional relationships. I’m tired of that cop stereotype, and I want my character to be someone readers can relate to.

But it’s not a clear-cut issue for me either. Two of my favorite books this year had protagonists who were criminals…or at least they had been. In Beat the Reaper, the main character is an ex-hit man who becomes a doctor. But he’s trying to redeem himself, and it’s a terrific (and often funny) story. The Lock Artist, another novel I loved, is about a psychologically mute safecracker. But the reader knows from the beginning that Michael goes to jail and hopes to change his life. So I rooted for both characters all the way.

For me, good characterization for a protagonist, especially a recurring character, means creating someone readers will care about, like, and/or respect in some way. (I make an exception for Elmore Leonard’s stories, in which everyone is shady, but often likeable, and I can always cheer for a charming thief, especially if he’s played by George Clooney.)

I realize I may be somewhat alone in this thinking (except for the George Clooney part). In my book discussion groups, many other readers say they don’t have to like the protagonist to find the story compelling.

How do you feel about protagonists who are unlikable, deeply flawed, or simply not someone you’d ever spend time with? Does it spoil the story for you? Can you name a novel you thoroughly enjoyed even though you didn’t like the protagonist?

The Time Is Now

Last week, I received a lovely note in the mail from the Assistant Principal at my former high school, asking me to be the commencement speaker for the 2011 graduation. I was beyond thrilled. My four years at this all-girls, Catholic high school were some of the best of my life; I just didn’t know it at the time. The heavy academic workload saw to that. Surrounded by some of the best and brightest the tri-state area had to offer, it was an intellectual hotbed of young women striving to be the best they could be. Seriously. I’m not joking. Many of us are still in touch years later and I am astounded by what these women have accomplished. Some are business executives; one is a doctor of theology and expert on the subject of medical ethics; another is the mother of five and grandmother of four; another works tirelessly on various fundraising activities, all on the volunteer level.

I have been thinking a lot about what wisdom I can impart to these young ladies and believe me, I’ll need every day of the next seven months to figure out what I want to say. Here are a couple of thoughts I’ve had. Feel free to add your own after you read this post. (I need all the help I can get!)

1. You’re thin enough, you’re beautiful enough, and gosh darn, you are smart enough. So stop sweating the small stuff! When I think back to my twenties and how I exercised for two hours every day and watched every morsel I put in my mouth, I shudder. I was slim, in excellent shape, with energy to spare, yet I criticized my own appearance every day when I looked in the mirror. As long as you’re healthy, you’re set. Enjoy your youth, because someone who is happy in their youth will look great as they age. (At least this is what I tell myself.)

2. Do it now. Whatever “it” is. Don’t put off gratification until a later date. I’m not heading down a morbid path here—although I could; I’m Irish after all—but there really is no time like the present. You’ll always make more money, there will always be time to work, but don’t underestimate the joy of travel, or writing, or singing, or dancing, or doing whatever it is that makes you happy. When we’re young, I think, we’re racing toward the next step in our lives instead of enjoying the life that we are leading at the time.

3. Don’t settle. For anything. Be it a husband, a wife, a job, a meal at a restaurant, you deserve the best and don’t let anyone tell you differently. You are the author of your story and it is up to you to make sure you live the best life you can.

4. Give back. Make sure that your life plan includes a healthy dose of volunteering, works for social justice, or just plain giving. Studies show that people who give back are healthier, happier, and may live longer. So look around, identify the need, and do something about it. The world will thank you for it.

Obviously, I’ll come up with more, but these are my top four for now. What words of advice would you give to a group of 18-year-olds, or to the 18-year-old who you once were?

Maggie Barbieri

What Do You Do When You Have a New Book Out?

My latest book in the Deputy Tempe Crabtree series came out a bit later than expected due to something wrong with the way the bar code was printed on the back of the cover. It made things a bit crazy for awhile. My book launch had to be put off and because I had a blog tour planned and some of the stops needed reviews, those had to be put near the end of the tour to make sure the blog hosts had time to read the books.

Fortunately the reviews have all been terrific and I just found a new one on Amazon.

Speaking of Amazon, do any of the rest of you authors check the numbers on your Amazon page? During my tour the numbers went way down (a good thing, though not sure it means people are buying books or just peeking at the page) on both the trade paperback and on the Kindle version. Now that the tour is over, the numbers have risen on the regular book, but have continued to go down a bit on the Kindle version. Whether this really means much I won't know until I get my royalty report.

In the meantime, I've sent off the next book in this series to the publisher which meant I had to come up with a short synopsis and a blurb for the back of the book. Leads to a bit of confusion since both books have the same main characters just different crimes to solve. I have to think a bit, "No, it's Invisible Path that has the murder on the Indian reservation and the para-military group in the mountains, this new one is all about bears and dementia."

Oh, and it's Christmas time. I've been squeezing in shopping, wrapping presents, and putting up some decorations so that people know I really am celebrating a holiday I love.

And back to the writing. I've just finished the next one in my Rocky Bluff P.D. series, and it's time to seriously do some rewriting. This can all get a bit overwhelming at times. I love writing--but when ordinary life is busy too, it's sometimes hard to fit in all the things needed to do when your latest book is out.

I can remember when I got a contract for a book and hubby and I went out to celebrate. We haven't done that for a long time, maybe we ought to start doing that again. Would certainly be a lot more fun than checking Amazon ratings.

Marilyn
http://fictiionforyou.com

Buried But Not Dead in Lottawatah

To celebrate our new e-book series we've providing an excerpt from one of the two stories in the first volume of our Brianna Sullivan Mysteries e-book series. The following is from I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries - the second story, Buried But Not Dead in Lottawatah

Chapter 1
If you've ever wondered why souls don't stay buried,
Just try it for yourself sometime.

The soil of Rosie Kilpatrick's flowerbed smelled like cedar mulch and weathered cow manure. The cow manure must have been put in by the last gardener. The mulch was from a pile, next to the flowerbed. The shooter wasn't doing it right. The mulch was supposed to go on top. The lily bulbs, then the soil, and the mulch on top. Odd, I couldn't smell the bulbs. I guess they don't have an odor. Or at least the ones lying near my nose didn't. They were probably the reason I was still alive, that and the bullet-dented garden trowel stuck in my back pocket.

I had lost some time. Five minutes, ten, I'm not sure. I hit my head on the edge of Miss Rosie's stone angel when the bullet knocked me face first into the lily bed. A cut over my eye was starting to swell and I had the worst headache I've ever had in my 35 years of life. Last week I'd been hired to renovate the flowerbeds on the Kilpatrick estate, although I'm not really a gardener and it's not really an estate. More like four acres of overgrown weeds surrounding an ancient house with flowerbeds.

My name is Brianna Sullivan and I'm psychic.

I grant you I must not be a good psychic or I would have seen this coming.

***

Matilda, my 30-foot motor home, has a hearty appetite for gasoline. This wasn't the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last time, that economics, and a crush on a totally unsuitable man, had forced a pause in my cross-country odyssey. Ten days ago I'd landed in Lottawatah, Oklahoma, population 1452 living souls and a couple of dozen in spirit-world transit. Detective Cooper Jackson, the unsuitable man mentioned above, introduced me to the elderly owner of the flowerbed and the stone angel that had knocked me senseless. Okay, maybe some people wouldn't give the angel all the credit.

After I got sick a few years ago, I quit my job with an airline (I was in charge of finding lost luggage), and with the help of a small inheritance, bought a motor home. I was in hot pursuit of romance and adventure on the open road. Of course, every couple of months I had to pull over, park my dreams, and earn a little cash.

The gardening project was running late into the fall season. Miss Rosie had been through a trio of gardeners in the last few years. One had died of old age, one had been more interested in growing something he could smoke, and the other had just up and disappeared. Not that anybody missed him much—especially Miss Rosie who only put up with any hired help because Cooper and a local social worker insisted.

"Damn fool Cooper. Won't leave a body alone." The old lady had made it abundantly clear that I was to sleep in Matilda, stay out of her house, and damn well plant exactly what she wanted, where she wanted. She warned me not to get attached—the job was short-lived. It appears she was correct.

Did I mention my head hurts? That damn angel! Miss Rosie wanted it moved, but couldn't settle on the perfect spot. She wanted a place where the birds would leave it alone. Personally, I thought the birds enjoyed using the old concrete statue for target practice and moving it wasn't going to make any difference. Even if I moved the angel, which I was supposed to be doing today instead of planting lilies, I fully expected to be hosing it down until the birds flew south again. In any other part of the country, that would have happened a month ago. But here in Oklahoma, sometimes the heat of summer and black birds hung around like unwelcome guests, well into November.

Birds, angels, cow manure, and lilies—why these things were important to me at a time like this, I couldn't say. I'm sure you're thinking I should be praying or fighting.

And it's not that I'm against a good prayer or a knock-down drag-out fight when need be, but the lily bed I'd been working in was less than a foot deep. And even with the dirt that the shooter was currently piling on top of me, if I kept playing dead, I should be able to rise from my grave when it was safe. All I had to do was keep calm and resist the urge to sneeze.

-------------

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries - e-book series by Evelyn David
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

Feast or Famine

by Susan McBride

I've been wishing for calm and peace around here lately, particularly after finishing up a really tough deadline for LITTLE BLACK DRESS (which you all heard about in my last post!). It's been a crazy few months what with putting on the "Wine, Wit & Lit" fundraiser for Casting for Recovery back in early October, my mom's diagnosis of breast cancer and her treatment, and LBD's due date. I kept telling myself, "This too shall pass," and it did. The fundraiser went beautifully, and we raised enough money to send 1-1/2 women to a Casting for Recovery retreat for breast cancer survivors; my mom made it through her surgery and treatment with flying colors; and, I finished LBD in the nick of time AND am so proud of how it turned out.

"Can I have a week of calm?" I asked. "Just one week?"

I figured that would be a given. I mean, what could go wrong? I had the days ahead all planned out: lounging in front of the boob tube in my jammies (as opposed to slaving away at the keyboard in said jammies); watching endless HGTV until I began to have dreams that Clive and Lisa had shown up to stage my house; reading all the books I'd put aside while I was in deadline hell; and sleeping so much my husband would check my pulse to make sure I was alive.

What happened instead was our youngest kitty Blue crashed within 24 hours of turning my latest book in. She was listless that Friday, but I was listless, too. So I kind of thought her need to sleep reflected my need to sleep. But she didn't eat that night (which is when we KNEW something was wrong). By Saturday morning, she had yellow inner ears, skin, and inner eyelids. I called our vet and we took her in ASAP. We found out she had something called hemolytic anemia, which is when the cat's immune system turns on itself, and we have no idea what triggered it. Sometimes they can identify the culprit--fleas, ticks, vaccinations--but in many cases, like ours, they can't find a reason why.

We had to take her to the emergency animal clinic, where she was admitted and stayed for two days. It killed me to leave her there with strangers, even ones who could care for her better than I. She had a blood transfusion to get her hemoblogin count up. I called several times a day, and we took in food and tried to feed her when they said she wasn't eating. We finally sprung her on Monday afternoon, after basically camping out at the hospital because I knew she'd be better off at home.

So much for peace and quiet. Our last week was filled with twice a day meds (antibiotic pills and steroid syrup), trying to get her to eat and drink, making sure she went potty, and keeping her away from the other cats. I feel like all I did everyday was wash cat dishes, open cans, take up food, take down old food that was rejected, lather, rinse, and repeat.

The good news is that Blue is doing much, much better. Her hemoglobin count has risen to almost normal levels, which means her meds are working. She had lost 1.6 pounds within 48 hours at the vet hospital but has regained 1.4 (hooray!). Within about three weeks, once they taper her Prednisolone, we'll know if she's going to survive this. We have high hopes. Blue's a super kitty.

In the meantime, other things have cropped up in my life--personal and professional--that put off any chance of peace and quiet for the near future (like, the crazy backdoor neighbors shooting rifle pellets through our brand new fence! But, hey, I made a new contact at the local police station when I filed my report. He's a lieutenant with a 30-year background in law enforcement who's agreed to be my consultant when I write my young adult thriller next year). My mother likes to say, "feast or famine," and sometimes I think life just loves throwing us those "feast" curveballs to keep us on our toes.

You can understand why I didn't go shopping on Black Friday. I didn't want to chance being crushed.

So I guess I'll take my calm when I can get it, in tiny snatches here and there. And perhaps I'll put "peace and quiet" on my Christmas list and see what happens.

Go to the Grocery Store

About eight months ago Ricky, the general manager of the store where the Nehrings buy groceries, asked me if I'd like to do a book signing in his store. (The store is part of an independent chain in my area–around 60 stores.) An author friend of mine, Gayle Wigglesworth, once talked about doing grocery store events in Houston, so the idea was already slumbering somewhere in the back of my thoughts. Therefore, when Ricky invited me to sign and shared information about how to set it up, I was ready.

Here is how it worked for me:

I made an appointment with the head of the chain's department in charge of non-food items. We met at his office, about 40 miles from our home. At that meeting he looked at the book I wanted to sell in his stores, decided it was a good product, and we discussed details. Eventually I signed a non-food vendor contract with the chain. Shoppers who got a signed book from me would put it in their cart along with the canned goods, produce, and whatever. My book would ring up along with everything else in their carts. At the end of a signing day I'd give the store an invoice for books sold, and they'd be in charge of sending my invoice to the home office. Not long after, a check for books sold, minus a small percentage for the chain, would be mailed to me.I was given a list of all stores in the chain. I could pick any store I wanted, and decide when I would sign there. A worker in the home office did advise me about which stores in areas I wasn't familiar with would most likely be a good market for books. (For example, if most customers spoke only Spanish in a particular store, I was told that.) The chain's General Merchandise Department would take care of notifying store staff when I would be there and see that the UPC code for the book was in their system. (That office also made posters for me to use in each store.)

A caution: I was invited to leave a few books in each store for impulse buys after I left, but found out this wasn't a good idea. Books can be damaged when people pick them up for a look. The GMD managers also move books around as displays change, and they aren't always careful how a book is treated during a move. It wasn't worth a few extra sales to risk damaged books, so now I only offer books on day-of-event.

What it's like on a signing day:

I learn from the store's general merchandise manager where she (thus far it's always been "she,") wants me to set up. So far my locations have been just inside an entry door. I take in a card table and two chairs, put a colorful cover on my table, and set up books, posters, and various hand-outs. (Flyers, postcards, and bookmarks.)

I stand most of the time, offering a cheerful "Hello" to customers and giving out book cover post cards. Often I ask individuals if they like to read, or make some other book-related comment that seem appropriate. When they stop, the conversation continues, led by their questions or comments.

I picked Saturdays initially, but soon learned Friday afternoons can be better, especially in good outdoor weather or on days when the Arkansas Razorbacks have a game. (Football or basketball.) Saturday mornings are always better than afternoons.

All book sales are impulse buys since local media don't cover this type event. Day of event I put the chain-supplied posters on the doors of each store with poster tape, but few notice them. I wear either a t-shirt or a sweatshirt with the cover of the book being featured on the front, as well as my badge saying "Visiting Author." (People still don't always get it that I actually wrote the book on display.)

I smile a LOT. And yes, I am usually worn out at the end of a signing event lasting probably four or five hours.So, how do I feel about grocery store signings?

I can choose signings to fit around other book or family events. The chain doesn't care when or where I sign as long as they know in time to notify stores I choose.

I can sign in or near areas where my novels are set, and in places where there are no bookstores.

Grocery customers are a huge cross-section of humanity in any area, much more varied than those seen in any bookstore or at advertised signings. If you want to learn how people in an area look, sound, and live, sign in a grocery store.

I am amazed at the number of men who shop alone and enjoy finding someone to talk to. After conversation, men do buy my books–mysteries with both a male and female protagonist that trend toward cozy. The number of men who buy has surprised me.(A larger percentage than in other venues.)

Older women shopping alone are good potential customers, and they like to talk. Again, I hear many stories–some that are incredibly sad. I have shared hugs and tears with a few of these women.

I have spoken with people who obviously love to read and want a book but then explain they are shopping with food stamps and those don't cover books. Others have stopped, looked, and then in various ways (showing me the $20.00 bill that had to cover their week's groceries, for example), explained why they can not buy a book.

Mothers with children in tow and smartly-dressed young women shopping alone are not good potential customers for me.

The opportunity to get a "real book signed by the author" catches many. The chance to buy a personalized book as a gift interests people as well.

I didn't meet many people who had ever been to a book signing in a bookstore or even knew such things happened. The idea of owning or giving an author-signed book was new to most.Other differences between these and traditional book signings?

The surprise element among those entering the store when they see my book table. The number of people who want a friendly chat. (Only once have I had questions from someone who wanted to publish a book, whereas in bookstores, that kind of contact is fairly frequent.)

If you want to make connections and learn about a wide cross-section of the public in your area, I recommend grocery store book signings! Note: Local chains or independents are usually best for signings. Many authors I know have had various difficulties in the big box stores, including one who got a bill for over $300 for "space rental." Ask questions before you sign up with anyone.

But yes, I recommend going to the grocery store!

Radine Trees Nehring
______________

Radine Trees Nehring began her writing career creating non-fiction feature articles and essays about the Ozarks for regional, national, and international publications. She spent ten years as a broadcast journalist, with her own weekly Ozarks news program, before she began the To Die For mystery series featuring Carrie McCrite, Henry King, and their families and friends in the Ozarks. The sixth Carrie and Henry novel, Journey to Die For, is an OWFI "Best Mystery" Novel and Falchion Award Winner. Radine has been published in China and Germany as well as the USA. She lives in Northwest Arkansas.

http://www.radinesbooks.com/

JOURNEY TO DIE FOR--print, Kindle, ebook
Silver Falchion winner, 2010

The Deadline Approaches

Seventy-thousand words and no plot.

That’s where I found myself right before Thanksgiving. I fretted and moaned; I knew there had to be a plot in there somewhere but I just couldn’t figure out where it was.

But I knew that I had two trusted friends—both amazing writers and as it turns out, editors—who would be able to set me straight. So off the manuscript went.

It is amazing to me that you can spend so much time with your manuscript and your characters and write yourself into a corner that you think you can’t get out of. One comment from one of my readers, my friend, Alison, and I knew exactly where I should go with the story as well as who I should whack in the first chapter. Let’s face it: I rock it old school so if there isn’t a body in the first ten pages, I’m not completely satisfied.

Alison and I were once part of a writer’s group, but found that we really were very much in sync with each other in terms of how we wrote, what we liked to write, and our processes in general. Now, for lack of a better term, we consider ourselves a “writer’s duo,” because really, with just two people, you don’t have the cohort for a group. At least I don’t think we do.

It’s not easy to find “beta readers,” as I’ve heard them called by no less than Charlaine Harris. Well, let me be more specific: the good ones are not easy to find. Anyone can read your manuscript but only a few trusted friends will tell you the truth. After Alison had read over the manuscript and sent me a lengthy email detailing her issues with it, she immediately felt bad and told me so. Had she been too critical? She wanted to know. I told her that we were way beyond feeling bad when it came to criticism; all any of us want is to produce is the best book possible and if we have to go back and rewrite, or god forbid, start over, we need to know that.

Anyone can tell you that they like your book, but is that really constructive? Probably not. I remember when I showed my husband the first chapter of Murder 101, which was the first thing I had ever written in a serious way, and asked him for his honest opinion. The relief on his face after reading it was almost comical. “I liked it,” he said. I asked him how relieved he was to have liked it. “You have no idea,” he said.

I think back to that time. Would I have been disappointed if he hadn’t liked it? You bet. But it would have been crueler for him to tell me he liked something, or that he thought I was a good writer, if he didn’t think either. I had put him in a tough position, but fortunately, it all turned out for the best. The moral here, then, is to find readers who you respect and who you are not sleeping with. This way, when a criticism has to be leveled as it surely will at some point, your romantic entanglements can stay unentangled from your writing life and bruised ego.

Fellow writers are often the best to help. Sure, I have friends who read drafts but they are already fans and may not be willing to give me their honest opinions. Fellow writers, however, know the drill and know what’s at stake and know what you need to hear, if not necessarily what you want to hear.

I’m now thirty days from my due date. I now have 71, 561 words, a body in the first chapter, and a subplot that will hopefully keep you guessing.

Maggie Barbieri