The Creative Juices Of A Writer by Heather Haven

~ Heather Haven ~ 6 Comments

And why I sometimes need basting.

I am always impressed by the creative gifts of many of my fellow authors. Not only are they good writers, but their talents often extend to book covers, ad campaigns, blurbs, banners, and more. And let me add, whatever they touch turns out pretty danged good.

As for me, I’ve spent time and energy doing a lot of my own book covers. Here I let out a deep sigh because the American academic grading system would probably only give my efforts a C+. And I throw myself the extra + because this is my post. It is not something that comes naturally to me. Regardless, I love doing the Persephone Cole covers and some of my other books. But not without tons of feedback from trusted pals. For the record, I am never allowed to touch the Alvarez Family covers. The Powers That Be have mandated.

This brings me back to my fellow mystery writers and why I love ’em. As we go through this crazy journey of being a wordsmith, we regularly ask each other for advice or to look at a WIP with a fresh eye. No one has to say please be candid without being cruel. The last part is a given for my pals. They haven’t got a mean bone in their body. And as we’ve all been taught in our writing classes, “Sweetie, I love your hair, but …”

Last month Janet Dawson, one of our very own, had a new banner for her post on Ladies of Mystery and I was smitten with it (see below). I had to have one, too. Actually, I wanted hers but plagiarism is still nasty-naughty, even though AI does it with aplomb and their masters think it’s not only okay but the wave of the future. Really? Have a REAL plum, honey.

Moving on. After hours of going round-robin, I sent Janet the first version of my banner for feedback. It wasn’t working. As usual, she came up with helpful suggestions. Janet said, in a very supportive way, it was a little busy and dark. Keep the work simpler and lighter, she advised. She even offered to help me do it. I was touched and relieved. Yayyy! A partner. But at 12:45 am, I woke up with another thought: Why not take the cartoon image I’ve been using and add to it? In other words, build on what I’ve got. So I did. Ta-da! My masterpiece, such as it is (see the orange thing at top of page).

I probably would have never arrived at going simpler or using white lettering on a darker background without Janet’s help. That’s why I love round-table endeavors. I love brainstorming. I love it when people put the work first and not their egos. And I try to do the same. Learning by osmosis, don’tchaknow. So, I want to thank all my fellow writers who have offered friendship, support, and words of wisdom.

But I am not surprised. Because that’s what mystery writers do with aplomb.

Hooray For The Sanborn Maps!

~ Janet Dawson ~ 5 Comments

Let us now give thanks for the Sanborn maps, a valuable tool for writers.

You’ve never heard of them? I hadn’t either, until I started working at the University of California Berkeley. I was a staffer in a research unit affiliated with the College of Environmental Design, which is where I first heard the term the built environment.

According to Science Direct:

The term built environment refers to the human-made surroundings that provide the setting for human activity, ranging in scale from buildings and parks or green space to neighborhoods and cities that can often include their supporting infrastructure, such as water supply or energy networks.

The Sanborn maps show a detailed view of the built environment. Great for writers, because if we’re writing about a particular location, it helps to know what building was on which corner. Fortunately, many of the Sanborn maps have been digitized. Which is great since the bound volumes are quite large and bulky—and not readily available.

Now for some background. The Sanborn Map Company created and published detailed maps of US cities and towns in the 19th and 20th centuries. The earliest published map shows Boston in 1969. The maps were large-scale, lithographed street plans, published in volumes, bound, and updated.

They were created so that fire insurance companies could assess their liability in urbanized areas, utilizing detailed information about properties and individual buildings in approximately 12,000 cities and towns.

The Sanborn maps contain an enormous amount of information. Once you get past the title page and various indexes, the maps themselves show the outlines of each building and outbuilding; the location of windows and doors; street names; street and sidewalk widths; property boundaries; fire walls; natural features such as rivers; railroad corridors; building use (sometimes even particular room uses); house and block number; as well as the composition of building materials including the framing, flooring, and roofing materials; the strength of the local fire department; indications of sprinkler systems; locations of fire hydrants; location of water and gas mains; and even the names of most public buildings, churches and businesses. Even brothels, outhouses and stables! A treasure trove!

You can access the maps through the Library of Congress, though I’m not sure they have the complete collection. What they do have is voluminous. Here’s a link:

https://www.loc.gov/collections/sanborn-maps/about-this-collection/

While writing Death Above the Line, the latest Jill McLeod novel, set in Niles, California in 1953, I consulted a Sanborn map for that small township in Alameda County. I learned that what is now called Niles Boulevard was called Front Street back then. There was a hotel on a corner opposite the train station, which served the purposes of my plot. I also found a large vacant lot farther down the street where I could locate my fictional warehouse-turned-movie-studio.

For my work-in-progress, which takes place in New Mexico territory in the late 1870s and early 1880s, the maps are invaluable. Even now, I’m looking at a digital map of Santa Fe in 1883 that points out the location of the post office, on a corner east of the Plaza, next door to a jewelry shop, an insurance office, and a barber shop—and there was a gambling hall behind that. On another downtown street, I find a bookstore sandwiched between a bank and another building labeled “Gambling Mdse.” I’m intrigued by that one.

Once I figured out that the legend “Dwg.” means dwelling, that gave me an idea of where people lived. Especially useful since my protagonist is renting a room in someone’s home. Now I know where to put that fictional house.

I love looking at maps and I could certainly spend hours with the Sanborn maps. Try them—you’ll get hooked!

Mired? Inundated?? Overwhelmed???

~ dzchurch ~ 3 Comments

If you are like me, the minute you log onto your email, social sites, or even play games on your phone, you’re swamped by all the little helpers who want to teach you to write, publish, do covers, and do advertising. They’d love you to sell your own books, or not. They want to help you discover the perfect genre to write in to make a bazillion dollars on the first day. They’ll fix your grammatical errors, check your writing against the great masters, tell you how to rewrite it to get closer to whoever you’re mimicking and if that isn’t enough they have AI that will do all of this for you.

Sheesh! How can you write with all this noise? It can make you skeptical of your skills, of your ideas, and well … everything until it mires, weighs, just crunches you into stasis. One of my favorite seminar offers was this … yes, I clicked on it, and, yes, I read it. A workshop that would assist you in toning up your genre, so that your readers wouldn’t be disappointed when they picked up your book. Then it went on to say, if you want to stand out you should change up the tropes. Make your hero a bit dopey, like the dwarf. Make your heroine slightly goofy, like the dog. Do something different. Am I the only one who finds this totally wacko?

Why on this green earth would I take time from writing to attend a seminar that purportedly teaches me about my genre and then promotes breaking form? Isn’t breaking form another word for originality, shouldn’t we all have a uniqueness about our books if we are any good at our trade?

Then there are the software folks who will gladly parse, slice, and dice your text. They will compare you to others in the genre you write. Either inflate or deflate you. Then offer to fix your text right up with their AI system. Am I crazy, is that writing?

I thought writing a book was about plotting, researching, sitting your butt on a chair and pounding on the keys. Reviewing what you wrote the day before, before beginning on the next day’s text. And when you finish, you edit, have it edited, edit again. Then tend to the cover and cover text — maybe not mimicking every darn cover in your genre, but break out there a bit, too. Here’s a random thought. Whatever happened to cover reveals? I admit I did a few. But where have they gone?

Yes, we all hope to sell our books, make some money, and gain some recognition … but when we swim upstream through creepy, sometimes badly written, pushy, flim-flam, how are we supposed to find the wheat in the chaff? Like for instance, those who can truly help us. There are people and sites I trust. And people and sites I use. But it seems like each time I use one of them, I am barraged by hucksters offering software, seminars, and surefire ways to increase my mailing list, outsmart Amazon, and find fame.

It’s enough to make one write a dystopian YA book in which the books in the library begin to randomly fling themselves off the walls, screaming as they fly at you, read me, read me, read me until you’re crushed by the weight of them.

Is that the definition of overwhelmed?

Despite this, the newest book in my Wanee Mystery series, “Of Waterworks and Sin,” will make its debut on April 15. Yes, tax day. And will be available for pre-order on March 15, not tax-day. That is if everyone in the Library of Congress isn’t fired first.

Here’s a brief, brief:

As a favor to the newspaper’s owner, Cora Countryman takes over editing the town newspaper. When two skeletons are found by diggers while trenching the new water main, she can’t resist investigating. As she digs deeper, she becomes fixated on the identity of a mysterious child connected to the victims. With the year 1865 and the memory of a shanty fire looming over her inquiry, Cora suspects a returned Civil War veteran, but which one?

Certifiably not written by AI.

Find me and my books at: https://dzchurch.com.

PAID IN KIND

~ Kimila Kay ~ 8 Comments

Yesterday was my first author event of the year. I sold half the books I did at the same event last year, and while I wished I’d had a bigger “payday,” I feel blessed that I was paid in other ways. And remember, you can’t tell my husband, but I’m not driven by money. However, I love hearing from a reader: I loved your book!

I’ve written before about feeling blessed by tips and tidbits from other authors. I also enjoy meeting people, whether they buy my books or not, and brainstorming with someone interested in becoming an author.

This event brought yet another opportunity to see how I continue to be paid in different ways.

When I started my Stoneybrook Mystery Series, which I write to honor my son, Derrick, I had already chosen the name of my fictional Oregon town. To my surprise and joy, I found myself sharing the story behind the name with two couples.

First, the story …

Randy and I attend the Oregon Jamboree in Sweet Home, Oregon, every August. It’s an annual country music festival that has brought such stars to Oregon as Toby Keith and Reba McIntire to the stage. I like to tell people who ask about the festival that we were lucky enough to see Kenny Chesney “before” he became four-time “Entertainer of the Year” winner, Kenny Chesney.

We also love Sweet Home’s small-town charm, even when 45,000 people flood the town during the three-day concert. Since we’ve attended the event over the last twenty years, we’ve secured a premium campsite across the street from the venue entrance.

I’m a people person and am still friends with people I met in the first few years of this fabulous weekend. Three young women were among those friends. The trio adopted us as their Jamboree Parents and spent time at our campsite.

One Saturday night after the concert ended, I was enjoying a nightcap with some of my friends in my RV. There was a knock on the door. It was one of the trio who said she’d been separated from the other two. I invited her in, and she joined us as we had snacks and drinks. Her phone rang, and this was her end of the conversation:

“You guys left me while I was in the port-a-potty.”
“No. I’m not going to walk there by myself; you all need to come here.”
“At the Stoneybrook’s.”

She ended the call, then offered an impish grin when we all stared at her.

“Stoneybrook’s?” I said.
“Well, that’s what we call you guys cause you’re old.” She laughed. “Stoneybrook is the name of the old folks’ home by our house in Corvallis.”
We all had a good laugh, and though my friends and I were far from “old” all those years ago, the moniker stuck!

At my event yesterday, an older couple stopped at my table and asked about “Redneck Ranch,” Book One in the Stoneybrook Mystery Series. I launched into my well-rehearsed spiel, and when I said, “When Harley arrives in Stoneybrook, Oregon—” the man cut in with, “Do you mean the Stoneybrook Senior Living Center in Corvallis?”

I responded with, “Funny, you should ask?” Then, I launched into my story.

About an hour later, a young couple came by and asked about “Redneck Ranch,” and I began my pitch again. This time, the wife told me she works as a Stoneybrook Senior Living Center nurse. We laughed when I told them of my previous visitors, explaining how they’d suggested I ask the center about doing an Author Event for the residents. The wife gave me her phone number and asked me to contact her this coming week because she thought an Author Event was a fabulous idea.

No books were sold to these two couples, but I feel like Derrick sent them my way. Not only did I get to share how Derrick inspired the character of an autistic deputy sheriff who always solves the crimes in my Stoneybrook Mystery Series, but I might now have an opportunity to tell this wonderful story to a room full of Stoneybrook’s.

As amazing as meeting these two couples was, Derrick wasn’t done sending people to my table.

An event like this author fair is designed to attract all types of readers who can peruse various genres. Guests can wander throughout a large room that this year housed 42 authors. We all have the same goal: to attract readers to our tables in hopes that they will buy our books. But now and then, you encounter a reader with whom you share more than an interest in reading.

When Tom and Judy stopped to look at my Mexico Mayhem series, I waited a beat before engaging them in conversation since Judy was reading the back cover blurb for “Peril in Paradise.”

Judy looked at me, tears in her eyes, and said, “How could you write a book about someone losing a child if you’ve never had that experience?”

Tom placed an arm around Judy’s shoulder and drew her close.

“I-I—” a lump clogged my throat, “have lost a child.”

Judy reached out a hand and touched my arm. “We lost our son, Matthew, five years ago.”
“I lost my son, Derrick, eight years ago.”
“Oh,” Judy nodded, “so you do know.”
“Yes.” I squeezed her hand. “How did you lose Matthew?”
“He needed a heart transplant that never happened.” Judy swiped a tear from her cheek. “He left us just after his forty-fourth birthday.”
“Derrick had a sudden heart attack at thirty-six,” I told her.

We talked for a few minutes about our sons, and then I asked Judy if she would mind if I sent her and Tom a pair of White Wings. I explained that I’d been gifting the wings and a poem about grieving parents to people like us.

“That would be so kind of you.” Judy smiled. “And I’d like to buy this book since Clara is a mom like us who also belongs to this sad club.”

I sold Judy “Peril in Paradise,” and she gave me her mailing address. I may never see Tom and Judy again, but I’m comforted that they will have a pair of White Wings to honor their son … and maybe even remind them of me.

My first event wasn’t as lucrative as I’d hoped, but I value the “payments in kind” from the fabulous people who brought me opportunities for the future … and a moment to share my grief with another mother.

If you participate in Author Events this year, I hope you will be richer in more than one way.

Happy Writing, Ladies ~ Kimila

Silk Road Inspiration

~ susanoleksiw ~ 6 Comments

Recently a friend told me about a trip her mother wanted to take with her to India, and asked me about some of the sights and events planned for them. I found a description of the trip online and skimmed through it thinking how I would answer her questions when just below was another trip that threw all my travel plans and budget for the year into the trash can.

When I was perhaps eleven or twelve years old I came across a book about a trip to Central Asia. After You, Marco Polo by Jean Bowie Shor describes a journey she and her husband made following in the footsteps of the explorer on his travels from Venice to China in the late 13th century. The book was published in 1955, only a few years after their trip in the late 1940s. The author is the definition of the word intrepid, and I don’t believe anyone alive today would even consider taking the same trip so dependent are we on cell phones, public transportation, emergency services, detailed maps, and reliable guides, not to mention translation programs on our cell phones and a general sense of peace and safety (now perhaps ebbing). I reread this book recently and it is still one of the most incredible survival stories of any traveler on the Silk Road in Central Asia I have encountered.

This book sparked my love of Asia, as a result of which I ended up living in India for a year doing research, and then returning for a second year for more of the same. I’ve been back several times to visit friends, and even though I’m no longer any kind of scholar, I’ve maintained my interest in India in the Anita Ray series and several photography projects. The author, Jean Bowie Shor, inspired numerous characters with her impetuous forays into forbidden areas and unbelievable luck in surviving and even thriving, as well as her fortitude in traversing a 20,000 foot mountain pass with her fever-stricken, delirious husband and two guides who were hoping to fleece their dead bodies of more money than the entire community would see in a hundred life times.

I don’t plan to write during the trip, but that’s a plan that can quickly evaporate. I do plan to take a lot of photographs, and as I often do when working on an Anita Ray story, I’ll line up the most interesting along my desk to glance at while I work after I get home. Some people like music in the background, some like a particular bit of clutter, I like photographs.

Now, after many years, I’m finally taking my dream trip—to the Silk Road. I’ve signed on for a tour with about a dozen others to visit three of the Stans—Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Kyrgyzstan—along the Silk Road. After a lapse of many decades, I will be part of the kind of  ensembles of tourists that I find so stimulatingly murderous in my Anita Ray series set in South India. I’m doing a lot of background reading so I’ll be ready for my characters when they show up. The trip is scheduled for the fall, so I have a lot of time to enjoy one of the best parts of travel—anticipation.

I’m not sure what this post is about, but I’m booked for a trip I’ve dreamt about for years and taking it now seems fitting.