Vacation and the Writer

The good news is that you can set your own hours, wear pajamas the whole day, and not answer to anyone but yourself (and your co-author) about how much you accomplished. The bad news is that you can set your own hours – which can mean 24/7; wear pajamas the whole day – which means you can gain 40 pounds and never know it what with elastic waistbands; and you don't have to answer to anyone – which means that you can play Lexulous all day (I'm on level 8 now!) and not have anything at all to show for it.

Of course, the bottom line is always the bottom line. No work means no pay.

It's summertime and my husband is talking vacation. But does a writer ever actually go on vacation? I may turn off my computer, but not my devilishly-devious-plotting mind. When we visited the Grand Canyon last year, I saw dozen of opportunities for great, grisly murders in an incredibly scenic locale. Las Vegas? I wouldn't have to invent characters. Just people watching in the casinos and I'd have enough to populate a series. Heck, I probably was actually looking at any number of real-life killers. We got tickets to the incredible Cirque du Soleil show, Eau, and when a man dove from 50-feet up into a wading pool, I thought what would happen if his spurned lover moved the pool just three inches….the margin for error is miniscule and would the police ever suspect the clown on the right side of the stage…

When I was a kid on long car rides, I'd amuse myself making up elaborate stories. That hasn't changed. We're visiting vineyards this year and I keep expecting a body to show up in the vat of Sauvignon Blanc. Or someone to keel over after sipping a nice Merlot. Or maybe a body is found under the grapes.

Creating murder and mayhem can be an exhausting profession. I'll need some wine to keep my imagination in check. Or maybe not. If I create a mystery set in a vineyard, can I deduct this trip as a business expense?

Stiletto Faithful: What are your vacation plans?

Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David

Brianna Sullivan Mysteries - e-book series
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
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

The Sullivan Investigation Series
Murder Drops the Ball (Spring 2011)
Murder Takes the Cake- Paperback - Kindle
Murder Off the Books- Paperback - Kindle
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

Romances

Love Lessons - Kindle - Nook - Smashwords

A Few Good Men... Can Have a Questionable Past

By Laura Spinella

I have a thing for men. Good to know... is probably your reaction to that. Fair enough, but I was referring to male characters, the ones I cast in books. Arguably, the female character is at the heart of most romantic fiction. Her job is to drive the story and fan the flames, be someone worthy of the reader’s investment. It makes sense. The majority of novels within the genre are written by women, readers of romantic fiction are, by and large, women. So it’s a safe bet that strong women with whom the reader can identify will be at the forefront of romantic fiction.

That said, enter me. Maybe it’s because I feel the contemporary capable female protagonist is a given, especially since swooning is passé and obey falls to the category of offensive four-letter words. While it’s interesting to see a female character evolve, overcome if need be, I take it for granted that she will get there. The guy, on the other hand, him I’m not so sure about. And I do my damnedest, starting on page one, to have the reader wondering right along with me. Give me a guy who’s a challenge—a tattered past with a touch of mental anguish… precarious future with questionable motives… geez, make him an alcoholic and let me pull him out of the gutter—I’ve got his back. In my book, literally, there’s no hero like a fallen one. And I’ll take my best shot at turning him into someone deserving of your attention and/or $15.00 retail.

It took years to recognize this pattern in my writing, longer still to embrace it. In fact, I remember the moment the obvious dawned on me—kind of like getting smacked upside the head by the wayward crew from a boys’ correctional facility. Anyway, I’d attended a high-end (aka snooty) writing workshop where the instructor was a well-known author I’d never heard of and the room filled with people bearing card-carrying writing credentials. Of course, my blank resume and I were scheduled to go last. As expected, they ripped my story up one side and down the other. Afterward, in a one-on-one with the well-known author, he said, “You create very sympathetic male characters—mystifying, really.” Still stinging from my trip to the whipping post, I took this as a criticism. I asked if he had a suggestion as to how I might cure this grievous writing blunder. In reply, he looked at me queerly and shook his head. “Why would you do that? You have much to work on, but the man in your story… Well, let’s just say I fell for him—and I don’t go that way.” Viva the downtrodden man.

How about you? Are you all about female characters who win the day or do flawed men stand a chance on your bookshelf?

Laura Spinella

Too Young for Stilettos, But...

By Lauren Baratz-Logsted

I’m just retro enough that I use a real physical dictionary when I need to look a word up and my 11th edition of Merriam-Webster defines “stiletto” as: a dagger; an embroidery tool; a shoe.

The Sisters 8, being just seven years old, are too young to go teetering around in stilettos for very long. They’re also too young to use daggers as weapons although they are fond of the spear from the suit of armor in their drawing room. As for embroidery tools, they might take up needlecrafts if only they weren’t so busy trying to solve one very big mystery.

WHAT?

What are The Sisters 8? They’re the eponymous octuplet heroines of a nine-book series for young readers ages 6-10. At the beginning of Book 1: Annie’s Adventures, their story begins on New Year’s Eve 2007 when Dad goes out to get firewood while Mommy goes to the kitchen to get eggnog…and neither return. The Eights, as they are known, discover a note behind a loose stone in the drawing room, stating they each need to discover their individual powers and gifts before solving the mystery of what has happened. There is one book for each Eight with a ninth to wrap up all the mysteries. Book 7: Rebecca’s Rashness was just released in early May.

HOW?

How did the series come about? My family – husband Greg; daughter Jackie, who was six at the time, and I – were stranded by a blizzard for 10 days in December 2006 in Crested Butte, Colorado. So what did we do to amuse ourselves? We did exactly what you would do – we brainstormed a series of books!

WHY?

Why should you care about The Sisters 8? Because like the heroines of the novels penned by The Stiletto Gang, the Eights are powerful, mysterious, adventurous, magical heroines, who – even at age seven! – kick butt. And they do it without being old enough to wear stilettos. Each of the Eights has her own personality: capable, nurturing, complaining, even-tempered, scientific, fearful, mean, greedy. Each, over the course of their nine-book journey, must learn to work with the group and stand alone, in the process becoming a little more than the person they were before. Every day, I receive emails from kids, and even their parents and grandparents and teachers, saying, “X didn’t like to read before discovering The Sisters 8.” For a writer, at least for this writer, that’s better than anything except maybe winning the Nobel. (Actually, it’s better than the Nobel too but I’d still like some of that money Sweden hands out with the awards.)

Thanks to The Stiletto Club for letting me natter on here about one of my favorite writing topics: the series I created with my family. How lucky am I?

Lauren Baratz-Logsted is the author of 21 published books for adults, teens and young children, including the YA Victorian suspense novel The Twin’s Daughter. All of her heroines wear metaphorical stilettos even if their age or time period prevents them from literally doing so. You can read more about the first five books in The Sisters 8 at http://www.sisterseight.com/ and more about all of Lauren’s books at http://www.laurenbaratzlogsted.com/.

Statistical Addiction

by Bethany Maines

Hi, I’m Bethany, and I have a statistical addiction.  What?  This isn’t Statistics Anonymous?  Well, I might as well confess anyway – seeing as I’m already here and among friends.

Recently I took all of my stats on running since 2004 and collated them into one spreadsheet and then I turned them into multiple graphs.  Reading that sentence, might make you think that I’m some sort of competitive runner who’s constantly out doing races and vying for some sort of top women’s ranking in the state.  Let’s just be clear about this… No.  I’m a slow to middling runner who did cross-country in high school.  But I keep track of run distances, times, and routes.  If you wanted to know I could tell you where I was running on this day in 2007.  You probably don’t want to know though.

What I really am is stat obsessed.  I’m also running a Facebook ad for my latest novel, Compact With the Devil.  Who wants to guess how many times a day I check the click through rates on that puppy?  Yeah… a lot.

For those who’ve never attempted to advertise on Facebook, the process is fairly simple. Ads are the little squares that appear on the right hand side of your FB page suggesting that you like them or whatever.  You can target an ad to geographic areas, genders and age-range, and then select the types of things they’d be interested in.  Action-adventure movies and literature/reading were a couple of my topics.  Then the ad goes out and FB puts up statistics on how many people you’ve “reached” (individual viewers of the ad), how many times they’ve seen the ad, and how many people have clicked on your ad.  That’s what I’m interested in – the click through rate.  But I have to admit it’s not just because I’m hoping that a click equals a sale; it’s also because I’m stat-obsessed.

What if I kept track of my tooth brushing patterns for a year?  What fascinating statistics would appear on duration of brushing time, brushing location and toothpaste preference?  Probably the answer is absolutely none.  But I’ll tell you what I have learned from all my stats… just how in control they make me feel.  By carving up the world into little tiny numbers, I feel ever so much more in command.  I feel like I winner every time I run more miles than I did last month because I have totally triumphed over Past Bethany.  In the race against myself I am totally winning (as long as I’m not racing 2007 Bethany – she ran a lot, but 2009 Bethany I’m totally stomping.)  The feeling is a complete illusion of course, but I feel like if I gather up all the little numbers I will some day be able to ultimately control everything!!!  Whu ha ha ha!! <- evil laugh.

Now… somebody talk me down and tell me to stop hitting refresh on the FB stat page.

Time Management--What's That?

Anyone else have trouble managing their time and getting everything done that they wanted to do?

I used to be much better at it than I am now and that's when I ran, owned and lived in a home for 6 developmentally disabled women. Besides cooking, planning activities, doing laundry, taking people to the doctor, and tons of paperwork, I also wrote five days a week for at least 4 hours. I would edit what I wrote after I went to bed. Weekends were devoted to the women. (They went off to workshops during the week and were gone from 6:30 a.m. to 3 p.m.)

I still get up early and get to work before I eat breakfast, but I can't seem to get nearly as much done as I used to. Part of the reason I think is because of blogging and other promotion on the Internet that wasn't available back then. Of course I was using the computer and the Net because it helped with what I did for my residents. I went to bed early back then (sometimes before the gals did) and I still go to bed early.

I know I spend far too much time on Facebook, but I don't want to just be promoting on it, I want people to know me as a real person. Besides, all my relatives and friends are on there too and I love keeping up with what everyone is doing.

My daughter-in-law helps with most of the housework, though I still do the laundry (only have to do it a couple of times a week these days--not 4 or 5 loads a day like I once did), and I still do a lot of cooking and have many people sitting around the dinner table. (I have no clue how to cook for only two.)

Somehow, though I should have more time, it seems the hours are no longer 60 minutes but they've managed to shrink somehow.

I still write lists as I've always done, but I don't seem to be able to get through everything I've listed before the end of the day.

Anyone have any great tips? (Oh, back in the day, I watched two soap operas in the day time, now I watch General Hospital once in awhile.) My mind is mush by evening, so I don't usually do any work then.

What I really need is the discipline to write first and then check my email and Facebook.

Marilyn

Whose Responsibility is this Mess?

Let me begin this with the assertion that Arnold Schwarzenegger is a pompous, two-faced, lying, sleazy idiot. Not a big surprise to anyone. In fact, most people probably thought that even before the latest love-child scandal erupted. Rumors about his misogynist behavior have circled the guy since he landed on these shores, and most certainly were big news when he began his political career eight years ago.

But what has struck me about this whole discussion about Arnold's atrocious behavior, and poor, long-suffering Maria, is the dearth of conversation about "Patty," his mistress and mother of his extra-marital child. It's as if she has no responsibility for this mess. From all news reports, she's not a victim of a sexual assault, but a willing participant in a decade-plus sexual relationship. She was as complicit as he was, lying just as easily to everyone, including her own son, as he did to his family.

So while I give no pass to the Governator, when we ignore the role that mistresses play in affairs, then we infantilize women, assume that they are unable to make their own decisions about right and wrong.

About ten years ago, Katie Roiphe wrote an article for the New York Times about the double standard of adultery. "It's as if the historical oppression of women justifies all sorts of bad behavior and self-indulgence and a whole new double standard." We are appalled at the transgressions of Tiger Woods, Jesse James, John Edwards, Newt Gingrich, but ignore the women who willingly jumped into bed with these Lotharios – and eagerly sold their stories to the press. No sooner do these affairs get revealed, that many of these women "lawyer up." As soon as I see Gloria Allred is a part of the news cycle, I know that some charge of sexism is close behind and a demand for an apology (e.g., a cash settlement) is next.

Surely the most important victims in this sordid tragedy are the children, most especially a thirteen year old boy who, if he didn't know who his real father was, now discovers a man who was willing to publicly ignore him (regardless of monetary support ) – or if he did know, was asked from infancy to join in a great conspiracy of silence. UGH.

The news cycle on this unholy mess isn't over. There's still divorce settlements and movies-of-the-week to be made. There's plenty of blame to go around – but in our fight to ensure that our daughters are treated fairly and equally – then we need to also teach them to take responsibility for their decisions and actions. Bad behavior isn't limited to any one gender.

Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David

Trust the Gut

by Susan McBride 

 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about instinct.  The kind of gut feeling that helps us with self-preservation.  The older I get, the more I’ve learned to trust my gut, even if someone else is telling me I’m wrong.  Because that little voice inside my head has proved right too many times to doubt it. 

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer back in late 2006, a mammogram had shown that a cyst my doctor felt was nothing.  I got a letter stating that I was fine.  “See you next year,” it said. If I hadn’t listened to my gut—and my body—in the weeks after and insisted on an ultrasound three months later, I hate to think where I’d be now. 

More recently, I went to my dermatologist for a pink spot on my upper chest.  I didn’t think much about it until it got dry-looking and bled a bit when I nicked it with my fingernail.  That spot ended up being early stage skin cancer.  There was a second pink spot, even tinier, but I had a bad feeling about it.  I asked my dermo to check that one out, too, before I went to the surgeon to have a procedure called Mohs to clear out all the cancerous cells.  She smiled and remarked that the second spot looked benign then she sent it off for biopsy.  I found out the morning of my outpatient surgery for Spot #1 that Spot #2 was also early stage skin cancer. 

"I'm glad I'm so paranoid," I told people.  But, truly, I'm glad I'm so unafraid of looking stupid that I dare to speak up when my gut tells me something.

Not only did these experiences teach me to be pro-active when it comes to my health (as with so many things in life), but they reminded me to pay attention to my instincts.  Trusting those gut feelings can sometimes mean the difference between life or death.  I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s true. And I think so many of us have been trained to depend on others to tell us what’s what—doctors, lawyers, financial advisers, whomever—that we stop listening to ourselves. Or maybe we never start.

That’s bad news if you’re a writer, particularly one who writes from her gut, as I do. It’s pretty impossible to know for sure when I’m writing a first draft if what I’m putting down on paper is good or bad, if my agents and editors will love it or loathe it. “Does this sound right?” I wonder.  “Does it move too slowly?  Is this character interesting?  Likable?”

Unless we constantly have someone else looking over our shoulder, telling us what to do (which would be paralyzing, I think!), we need to trust our instincts to know if what we’re writing is worthy or not.  When I read a book that’s well-done, I feel it inside.  Something “clicks” within me, and soon I’m absorbed in the story, along for the ride.  When I find a book lacking, I end up dissecting it rather than enjoying it (or I just stop reading it altogether). 

I find it’s like that when I’m working on a first draft.  If I don’t feel a “click” when I write a scene or chapter—or if I feel stuck—I know my gut is saying, “You might want to rethink this, Bubba.”

All writers work so differently.  Some outline. Some fly by the seat of their pants.  Some do a bit of both.  But in order to become better and stronger at what we do, we have to trust ourselves—trust our gut—and listen to that little voice that guides us. 

I'm trying very hard to stop second-guessing myself.  I’m not always right, that’s for sure.  But when that little voice inside my head speaks up, you can bet that I listen.

Guest Blog - Amy Bourret, Author of MOTHERS & OTHER LIARS

            “No mother would ever do that. Period.”
            “I wouldn’t make those choices, but I can understand why   

Ruby made  them.”
            “The author obviously has no maternal instincts.”
            “How dare you write about mothers when you aren’t one?”
            “I wonder how you would have written the story differently if you were a mother yourself.”

This is just a handful of the feedback I have received on my debut novel, Mothers and Other Liars, which was released last fall by St. Martin’s Press. One of the biggest (and most rewarding ) surprises I have found on this side of the publishing journey is that an author actually does get feedback. I have had readers write to me with very specific ideas on what they want to read in the sequel. I have had readers write to me just to tell me that they loved my book, or that they became “friends” with my characters and want to keep them around. And I have had them tell me that they hated, hated the book. One thing is clear: people feel very strongly about the choices my protagonist, Ruby, makes.

And you know what? I’m elated to hear it all, even the excoriations. I feel that it is a true privilege to be invited into peoples’ homes for the several hours that they read my book, and it is an absolute honor when my words, my story, my characters, stick with readers after they have finished the book. How many books have each of us read that we forget completely the moment we finish it. I’ve been known to check out the same book from the library several times, not realizing I had read it before until I hit around page 37 or so. You have to remember the story to have an opinion about it; it really has to stick with you (whether in your craw or in your heart) to stoke your passions.

So I’ll take them all, and I’ll even admit to feeling giddy at the idea that people are passionate about Ruby and Lark. I’m not a mother myself (the nerve!), but I think the author/character relationship is not so different from parent/child. I mean, you love your kids and think they are great and your friends might tell you they are adorable, while behind your back they are saying, “What. A. Spoiled. Brat!” So yes, I’ve felt especially giddy, call it proud parent syndrome or my own little Sally Field moment, to hear that you like them, you really like my characters.

Some of the most fun I’ve had has been meeting with book clubs. I love book clubs. I am a member of three myself (although one has pretty much devolved into a wine and whine club; the books are rarely mentioned let alone discussed, that is when we bother to choose a book at all), and the opportunity of visiting others may be reason enough to write a book. Ruby and Lark’s story makes for great debate (especially when wine is involved!) and I have enjoyed hearing the discussion first hand. I’ve been amazed at some of the insights of readers, connections and subtext that I hadn’t even recognized myself. The book club members get all excited that a “real live author” is coming to their meeting; I feel humbled just to be invited to their table. And the visits never seem repetitive: each book club has its own tenor and timbre that steers the conversation in a unique way.

So call me an idiot to my face, challenge my right to even write about a topic. Love the short chapters because you can stop at any time; hate the short chapters because you stayed up all night telling yourself “just one more.”  Like my vivid imagery; hate the “flowery” writing. Bring it on, baby. And then I’ll say a sincere thank you, for reading, and for caring, about my book.

Amy Bourret is a graduate of Yale Law School and Texas Tech University and a former partner in a national law firm. Her pro bono work with child advocacy organizations sparked the passion that fuels Mothers and Other Liars, her debut novel. She lived for several years in Santa Fe and now splits her time between Aspen, Colorado and Dallas, Texas. Learn more at http://www.amybourret.com/.