Tag: books

Prime the Pump and Take a Long Voyage

~ Janet Dawson ~ 6 Comments

It’s an old phrase: priming the pump. Back in the 19th century, it meant pouring liquid into a pump to expel the air and make it work. Even now, an internet search will tell us that before any centrifugal pump can be operated, it must be primed. Priming is the process of replacing air in the intake lines and portions of the pump with water.

But our subject is books and writing. Priming the pump also means encouraging the growth or action of something. In this case, my work-in-progress.

It’s a historical novel. I have a large pile of words that will eventually become a coherent first draft. Where the hell I’m going? How am I going to get there? Will it make any sense? It probably will, to me. Will anyone else want to read it?

Thus I prime the pump. I’ve been seeking inspiration in one of my research books, taking lots of notes. I’m paying attention to the timeline of actual events, in order to integrate my fictional characters into the crowded parade of real people who were doing things in my setting in 1878 and 1879. As I do this, I write notes to myself, usually set apart in brackets, outlining things I want my protagonist to do. Or learn.

There’s a lot going on, but it’s impossible—and improbable—for me to place her physically at all the significant events, much as I would like her to be an eyewitness. I must pick and choose the most dramatic scenes and figure out a logical reason for her to be there. The rest, she’ll have to learn from others. Besides, the book already looks like it will be long. Some events need to be mentioned in passing rather than detail.

So, reading a book, in this case, a research book. Or another book. Like this one. Years ago, I was going through a bad patch that soured me on life and left me feeling perpetually grim, grumpy, and depressed. A friend tossed me a lifeline, a book. It’s Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy, by Sarah Ban Breathnach.

I’m not one for touchy-feely, self-help books. Over the years, I’ve bought a few, gotten little from them, and quickly donated them, passing them on to other readers. But Simple Abundance spoke to me at a time when I needed it. It’s a collection of essays, one for each day of the year, looking at things like joy, gratitude, beauty, and so forth. I read one essay every morning. I’m always surprised and gratified when the essay for a particular day speaks to something that’s going on in my life. Such as the day my father died. That essay was exactly what I needed at the time.

One of the best takeaways is the gratitude journal. Each evening, I jot down three or more things that I’m grateful for—even if it just clean sheets on my bed, a quiet day at home, and especially a productive day of writing. I find that keeping the gratitude journal has changed the way I look at life. That helps immeasurably with my writing.

Simple Abundance also introduced me to the Greek poet Constantine Cavafy. On a date at the end of the year, the author quotes Cavafy’s poem Ithaka. During my trip to Greece in October 2023, my group visited the ancient theatre of Epidaurus, constructed in the late fourth century BCE. It’s considered the most perfect ancient Greet theatre with regard to acoustics and aesthetics. It is still used for the performances of ancient plays.

Our tour guide demonstrated the acoustics at Epidaurus by standing in the middle and reading a poem—Cavafy’s Ithaka. As we enter the new year, I leave you a few lines from the poem [translation by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, C. P. Cavafy/Collected Poems, Princeton University Press, 1992.]

As you set out for Ithaka

hope the voyage is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

. . . .

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.

Arriving there is what you are destined for.

But do not hurry the journey at all.

Better if it lasts for years . . .

May your voyage this year be long, full of adventure and discovery. And productive!

Endings

~ susanoleksiw ~ 3 Comments

Beginnings and endings are the hardest part of writing for me. (That’s today. On other days it’s the muddled middle.) Some writers have arresting, captivating openings that grab the reader and carry her along into a ninety-thousand-word novel. I’m not one of those, but I can eventually get a few words on the page to get the story moving. For me the greater challenge is endings.

Some years ago I listened to Andre Dubus III talk about his new book, House of Sand and Fog, which led him to talk about how he’d grown as a writer. He didn’t like his first book, Bluesman, because he considered it sentimental. His disdain for this failure in craft was obvious, and when I met him at a writers’ event years later, the subject came up again. As I listened to him touch on the challenges in his work, I understood that for him an ending that is sentimental is also in some ways dishonest, an inability to reach deeper for something that was true. I had just purchased TheGarden of Last Days, and read it with that in mind. There is nothing sentimental in that book, least of all in the ending.

Several critics have explored the link between the traditional and cozy mystery and comedy; noir crime fiction has been linked to tragedy. At the end of the cozy mystery, the world is set right again; the villain has been identified and brought to justice of some sort; the lesser crimes of other characters are brought to light and justice is visited on them in various ways, perhaps public censure or shame or remorse; and the minor romance barely acknowledged sometimes comes to light and there is a new beginning for a young couple. All is right with the world. From Restoration Comedy to Agatha Christie and writers today, it is hard for a reader of cozies or traditional mysteries to be satisfied with less. An unrequited love or an unchallenged con artist will annoy some readers as much as a dangling participle will menace the peace of mind of a copy editor. And I understand this. There is something deeply satisfying about the comedic ending, a moment that reassures us that the world aslant can be righted, that our inchoate ideals can be realized.

So how does a writer of traditional crime fiction compose an ending that is both true to the story being told and unsentimental? Sometimes I think this question is just one more obstacle to writing a satisfactory ending, and all I’m doing is complicating matters, making life harder for myself. I’m not unsatisfied with the ending of Family Album, the third in the Mellingham series, but I acknowledge that it is a tad sentimental (maybe more than a tad). But readers loved it because it fulfilled one of the hints at the beginning of the story, and a promise fulfilled, particularly about a possible romance, always brings a frisson of delight. But it was sentimental. At least it wasn’t mawkish.

I don’t remember most of the endings in my books and stories but some stand out, for me at least. The ending of When Krishna Calls in the Anita Ray series required research, rethinking, and stepping back. A woman sentenced to prison looks out on her new world, listening to another prisoner, and is satisfied with the choices she has made. She won’t forget why she is where she is, and she won’t regret it. The ending of Friends and Enemies in the Mellingham series required several versions before I finally landed on the one that worked and fit with the rest of the story. An editor who read the ms and considered acquiring it mentioned how much she liked it (but not enough to take the book). Another ending that satisfied me is that in “Coda for a Love Affair,” in Devil’s Snare: Best New England Crime Stories 2024. The ending is simple, clear as cut glass and sharp.

Endings are hard because the easy ones come fast, are easy to write, and sit well on the page. And that’s the problem. They tempt us to take them, give a sigh of relief, and pat ourselves on the back for coming up with (rather than running carelessly into what looks like) the perfect line or paragraph to close out three hundred pages. Depending on how tired we are of the story and working on it, that ending will appear reasonable, acceptable, or a gift from the writing gods. So this is where I step back and wonder what Andre might think. I don’t have to get far into that mental exercise to admit that the first or even the thirtieth ending is not what I want. 

If nothing else, writing keeps us humble. In our heads we hear perfect dialogue, snatches of prose so brilliant we’ll never need the sun again, but on the page, our pen does not cooperate (or the computer keyboard), and we end up with the mundane, the ordinary, the usual. I keep working on endings but I know I fall short most of the time. As do we all. It’s encouraging to know that greater writers have the same struggles, the same challenges, the same doubts. With one eye on writers whom I admire, I keep at my own work, striving to meet my standards even if that means sometimes disappointing some readers. If I want better endings, I just have to keep at it until I get there.

That Pesky Creative Gene

~ lanamfox ~ 3 Comments

Every year about November, my creative gene kicks in. Why it doesn’t start sooner, I have no idea, but it waits until a month before Christmas and decides it really wants me to create something besides stories. It wants me to draw, paint, sew or knit Christmas gifts.

Sometimes, I give into it and try to create something amazing for my family or friends for the holidays. Often, I never finish these projects, instead I scrap them for the next year. Then that pesky creative gene doesn’t come around again until the next November!

I will admit that I’m not artistic even though I’d love to be, nor can I do much on the knitting side besides knit and purl. A few years ago, I decided to make slippers for all of the girls in the family. I bought a book with great patterns in it. That’s as far as I got. It’s a start, right? I can make quilts, but I’m slow at it, so there is no way I can get one done between November and December 25th.

But the story ideas abound. They are always rattling around in my brain. Some stick, some don’t, but they keep coming. The busier I am—and we all know how busy it is around the holidays—the faster the ideas pop into my head. I want to write them all.

So, how do I pick one idea and run with it? Especially when I’m already working on a novel that needs to be finished by the first of the year.

I keep an idea journal. I jot down everything I can think of about the latest story idea that has turned on its lightbulb in my brain. Once I write them down, they usually quit bugging me. But sometimes they won’t stop, and I know that one needs to be brought to life in a book or short story. I guess if they stand the test of time, they will eventually be made into a story.

At a recent book signing, a man came up to me and said, “I just had to share this with you. There have been so many things happening in my family that I should write about. There have been murders, which were never solved, people disappearing that have never been found, all kinds of things.”

I told him that he should write about it, and he smiled and said, “I really should.” Then he waved a hand in the air and hurried off.

Later, after I had a moment to think about it, I wondered why he’d been so eager to tell me about all of the bad things that had happened in his family. Was he the nice guy he seemed to be? Or…my mystery writer’s mind could come up with a lot of ways to fill in the blanks and a seed of an idea for another book popped into my head.

I’m so in awe of writers who can write multiple books a year. I can barely write one. How do they do it? Am I not organized enough? Am I not persistent enough? Does my brain only work a couple hours a day and then go on hiatus?

Every year I tell myself I’m going to crank out at least two books this year. This is the year that the stars will align, and the words will flow. But it doesn’t happen. I’m still slow. Still pulled away by the other parts of my life that take me away from writing.

I read recently where a famous Indy author just published her forty-sixth book. She started in 2017. I did the math; that’s almost seven books a year.

I know what you’re all thinking. Everyone is different. All writers go at their own pace, and we shouldn’t compare ourselves to other writers. You’re right, but it would be nice if that pesky creative gene would kick in in January instead of November and let me get more writing done.

I know that to write more books a year, I need to forget about knitting, sewing, crafting, painting, or drawing, which we’ve already established I’m not that great at, and just write.

I think this year I’ll change my calendar to November on January 1st. I’ll put autumn decorations up around the house and trick myself into thinking it’s fall and maybe my creative gene will buy it and kick in. One can always hope. In the meantime, if you have any helpful ideas for a busy procrastinator, please send them my way!

Merry Christmas!

Lana

Cavalcade of Books

~ susanoleksiw ~ 5 Comments

When I look at my TBR pile, which is really a scattering of books all across the sofa, the upholstered chairs, and stacks on the floor, my brain boggles at the variety of titles. It’s as though I have no focus. I was about to add a number (a large number) of mysteries to the list when a couple of friends came up with an idea, The Cavalcade of Books, which would be a list of three books by each of the ten writers on Ladies of Mystery. Yes, they would do my work for me—they’d bring together all the titles I want to read in the next few months, everything at my fingertips. Yay!

I’ve been writing a monthly post for Ladies of Mystery since June 2019, assuming I’ve managed to keep a complete list, which is a lot to assume about me sometimes. And during those months and years of writing my posts and reading posts by the other ladies I’ve learned about other parts of the country, this very strange writing business, lots of history, tricks and techniques I would never have thought of, marketing options, sales outlets, the thoughtfulness of my fellow blog writers, and had a lot of very good laughs. 

But you as a reader probably want something more than compliments and ravings from me to persuade you to try some of these books. Readers are so demanding, and that’s why we writers love you. You make us work, you give us a reason to dig deeper, think harder, write better. So herewith a little piece of why we read and (I) write mysteries. 

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie both wrote traditional mysteries. So did Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler. How can this be? They’re all so different. The form of the mystery has always seemed to me to be as broad as the range of human taste. You can write the story with any level of violence or no violence, and in the end you return to a point of stasis promised at the beginning. The form holds both writer and reader, and yet liberates both to explore and range widely (I almost write wildly, so drop that in there too).

https://bodiebluebooks.com/ladiesofmystery.

In The Cavalcade of Books you’ll find the whole range of crime fiction organized into seven categories. Just click on whichever one calls to you and find a list of novels by new and perhaps long favorite writers. You can also chase down a writer through the alphabetical index.

All these books come with special prices in effect from November 15 to December 31 (just in case you climbed onto a really slow Christmas/Holiday shopping train).

These women are amazing—hilarious, scary, captivating, fun, and terrific writers. Buy the books for your friends, your families, strangers you want to turn into friends. Then when the season becomes the crazy time of too much shopping, wrapping, eggnog, take one of your new treasures, crawl under the dining room table, and take a break. Visit the Northwest, the nineteenth century, India, or New York City. We all deserve a break. Even writers. Enjoy!

Ladies of Mystery Catalog
Ladies of Mystery Catalog

The Secret

~ susanoleksiw ~ 5 Comments

Many of us in the writing community have a secret, and it’s not exactly the same secret. We write our books, talk about our characters, whom we love, and gnash our teeth over the plot holes, the ever-jiggling middle that refuses to settle down and dash forward, and the ending that leaves us dissatisfied, rewritten three or thirty-three times. You know this because you read us here. None of this is kept secret from anyone who reads a writer’s blog. And then we have to edit the soggy mess, find beta readers, edit it again, and then pop over to our editor, if we have one, or switch hats and become our own publisher.

Somewhere in this scenario is one step that every writer loves. We each have our own. Which one is mine? Those who know me can probably guess.

When I was in college I was the editor of the student humor magazine, which meant handling proofs and working with the printer. I loved working with the printer, seeing those strips of paper with types-set pages on them with little red pencil marks and handing them over to the printer. For some reason I prefer to forget, I always seemed to get him at dinner time. Yes, I love the publishing/printing process. And that brings me to the topic of today—Crime Spell Books.

CSB is the third publishing venture I’ve undertaken with friends or colleagues. What may seem daunting to others has an irresistible pull for me. Two other writers and I began Crime Spell Books after the new editors/owners of Level Best Books, another venture I began with another two friends, dropped the anthology for New England mysteries. They lived in the DC area, so it was understandable. But New England needed its own anthology, so Ang Pompano and Leslie Wheeler and I grabbed the opportunity, and published our first in 2021.

Devil’s Snare: Best New England Crime Stories 2024, now availables is our latest offering, with twenty-four stories, in every sub-genre. We post a call for stories in January, and we read every one that comes in over the next several months (to end of April). We rank the stories 1, 2, or 3 on our own lists, and then we share them to see what we have. It’s always gratifying to see how close we are on most of them. When we decide how many stories we want, we begin discussing the remaining stories that came close, and work for agreement.

Anthologies are among the best works we in the writing community can produce. They show a variety of writers and interests. They require strong collaboration. Each editor loves certain stories and not others, and here we rely on a deep respect for each other’s experience and taste so we can come to agreement. Not every story I love gets into the anthology, and the other two editors probably feel the same. But the result—a list of excellent mysteries and crime stories by known and unknown writers—is something we’re all proud of. And then we come to my special love/hate experience—formatting. I do this because I think there is something wonderful about holding in our hands a finished book that we made, with the chapters and lines of text laid out properly—no unruly paragraphs or rebellious headers or recalcitrant page numbers. Everything is in order and proper and beautiful.

So that’s my favorite part, as much as anyone might question that statement while I’m working on it. The end is worth the frustration, gnashing of teeth, moments of panic, and sheer terror that one wrong punch of a button will send the whole thing to oblivion. And then it’s done. The proof comes in the mail, and then the final copy. And I look up from my desk and there it is. Beautiful. Finished. I can rest of my masses of edited copy and have another cup of tea.