Cathy Clamp's Writing blog

Writing Help - content edits

2012-03-05T06:36:00.000-08:00

We're about to receive our "edit letter" on our latest book. This is what some editors call the “first pass edits” and what others call the “style edits” or “content edits.” The basic concept of these edits is to do an overall look at the book.

When a lot of aspiring writers think of edits, they have in mind what are actually considered copy edits in the industry, (also called the "second pass" edits or sometimes the "line edits",) where grammar, composition, spelling and such come into play. Second pass edits are all about tense and word choice, adjectives and dangling participles. But in first pass edits, it’s all about the book as a whole. Character personalities, time lines of the world, and even the world itself (rules of the reality) are fair game. This is the kind of edits that make new authors bite their fingernails down to the quick while waiting for a reply. “Will s/he love my heroine?” “Was the ending surprising enough?” “Is the sex hot enough?” Etc., etc.

What’s a lot of fun is when the editor really likes the story and can think of all kinds of things to make it better! Ideas fly back and forth, either during a phone call, a meeting or through rapid-fire emails. Logic holes big enough to drive a truck through will make you slap your forehead with a pained, “D’oh!” and concerns about character flaws can make you either worry or defend your beloved ideas vigorously.

But what usually happens is that both the author and the editor think about the READER and what the reader wants to read, rather than what the author wants to write. This is where art meets business. Everybody tells an author “Write the best book possible.” But what does that really mean? Write it for WHO? What I, as an author, usually consider the best book is the one I sweated and struggled over for weeks, months or even years. I wrote it and I love it just as it is.

But is it the best book for the reader? How do you know? Ah, therein lies the path to madness.

Because readers are so very different, and all you have to judge on a debut book in a new series is what they’ve liked in the past. If it’s new and different, it might be that your best effort won’t meet the readers’ expectations. How many books have you picked up that’s a “wallbanger”— where you wonder what sort of drugs the author (and editor) were on to consider the book good enough to put on the shelf for money?

In fact, many aspiring authors I’ve coached have even mentioned that one of the main reasons they decided to write a book is because “I can write better than half of the stuff on the shelf.” That may or may not be true, of course, because what one reader considers utter dreck is the next person's favorite book of all time.

Authors tend to trust their editor on matters of business. After all, it’s their job to know what readers will buy, and craft their edits wisely so that the final book will appeal to the most number of readers possible. Ultimately, the "best book possible" is the one that sells the greatest number of books, rather than being a book that's desperately loved by a very few people.

I mention all of this because several of the edits I need to make are to the character’s background. “It’s too much for one person to bear,” was one comment on a heroine. “Can you remove a couple of these? The reader is going to be swimming before they’re halfway through the book.” She went on to list the burdens we’d heaped upon our poor character. There were eleven major crises in her present-day life and past that she had to deal with. Admittedly, that IS a lot to manage over the course of just a few days (the plot time line of the book.) So, Cie and I talked it over and said, yes, you’re probably right. We can probably remove #3 and #10, and oh, #11? That’ll be resolved by the end of book 3, so let’s leave it in book 1. Our editor sent a smiley face and thanked us for being willing to make the changes. She appreciated that we understood the business of . . . well, the business. We want the reader to have an enjoyable read, a fast and furious read that makes it a fun experience. So then I had to go in and actually REMOVE all mentions of #3 and #10, and restructure her responses to things that might be because of those issues. It will mean a few sleepless nights but I do agree with the editor that the book will be better for it.

What will the upcoming letter hold? Hard to say. It could be an expansion of the ending, or a change in subcharacters, or even removal of text. But again, it's all about the reader and what will make it fun for THEM!

How about the rest of you who are published (and those who aren’t.) Have you read books that you wish the author and editor had had more conversation about the plot and characters before it was released into the wild? Or do you like to read exactly what comes out of the author’s head, no matter whether it flows well? Everybody is different, after all, so I’m interested to hear your thoughts. :D

Friday Shorts - New Story - "By Any Other Name"

2012-03-02T04:36:00.000-08:00

This is a part one of a fun short featuring a character I really like: Dan McGraw, called "Hawk" by his friends. Enjoy!

BY ANY OTHER NAME
Cathy Clamp

“Do you still owe me a favor, Hawk?”

Dan McGraw looked up from his computer to see his chief investigator, Justin DeWit, leaning in the doorway. From bloodshot eyes to rumpled clothing, it was obvious he’d spent yet another night in the office. The multiple holes that crawled up his ears were barren of jewelry, but it appeared he’d added another tattoo to the colorful collection on his forearms.

“Oh, probably,” Dan replied and closed the screen on the brief he was writing for Monday. “C’mon in and pull up a chair. It looks like you could use a break. What’s up?” He nodded toward the file folder under Justin’s arm, already stained by splashes of coffee. “Is that Michaels case giving you fits again? Do you need some help getting ready for the evidentiary hearing?”

Justin shrugged wearily. “Nah, I’m all ready for it, and the dozen other assorted cases. No, the favor is a personal one.”

Leaning back in his chair, Dan managed to suppress his initial surprise. In the entire year they’d worked together in the Eagle County District Attorney’s office, Justin had never asked for a personal favor. He picked up an oversized, cobalt blue coffee mug emblazoned with the scales of justice in gold leaf and took a sip of slightly cool sweetened coffee. “I’ll help if I can. What’s the favor?”

Crossing the room in a few short steps, Justin flopped down in one of the leather wingback chairs across from Dan. He leaned back into the thick padding with a contented sigh. “I can’t believe you moved these all the way to Colorado from New York, but I’m sure glad you did. I missed these chairs. A person could nod off to sleep in one.”

Dan chuckled. “Is that the favor? You want to sleep in my chair over the weekend? I’d think you’d prefer your own bed.”

The reply began with a sad, nearly bitter snort of air. “Yeah, I sure would — if I could just figure out how to get Barbara out of it.”

Another sip of coffee hopefully covered a wince. “Sorry, Justin. I know you guys haven’t been getting along too well lately. If you need to crash at my place, you’re welcome. I’ll be watching the game on Sunday, but other than that, you can have the couch.”

Justin waved off the suggestion as Dan set the mug back on his desk. “No, it’s fine. We’re trying counseling. Hopefully, it’ll work. But that is part of the reason for asking for the favor.”

Dan raised his brows, rested his elbows on the chair arms, and steepled his fingers above his chest, waiting for his friend to speak. Instead, Justin tossed the file folder across his paper strewn desk so it landed perfectly in front of him. Dan opened it and scanned the summary.

“This is the Meekler drug bust,” Justin said once Dan had read the first paragraph. “Denise Richardson is the lead on the case — her first solo in front of the bar. But it’s been the case from hell so far. We nearly lost venue because the state trooper listed the wrong county on the citation, and one of the defendants we’d made a deal with backed out. This latest thing could blow us out of the water. It’s frustrating, because it was a good bust.”

Dan picked up a stapled report. “Oh, yeah. I remember this case. This looks like the chemical results on the packages the troopers found in the wheel wells of the Mercedes. What’s the problem?”

“We’ve got a Motion to Suppress the report because the defense counsel claims the chain of evidence was broken. The trouble is — he’s partially right. When the lab returned the samples, they switched boxes. We got the evidence on a case from another county, and they got ours.”

Dan shrugged. “That’s not broken. They both went to court officers. Just have her go trade the boxes with the other D.A.’s office, and you’ll be fine.”

Justin’s expression about stating the obvious wasn’t lost on Dan. But his tone remained light. “Great idea. The other box was delivered to the 12th Judicial District — in Burlington, five hours away. Denise’s car is in the shop, and the hearing on the Motion to Suppress is on Monday. I’d already offered to drive her, but—”

Dan immediately understood. “But Barbara probably threw a fit. If traffic in Denver is normal, it’s an overnight trip.”

A weary nod and a deep sigh said everything. “A trip with a gorgeous, single woman to a remote location. I mean, there’s nothing between me and Denise. We’re just friends. But the counselor felt it would be a . . . poor choice on my part this early in the process. Unfortunately, Denise was off today and I can’t reach her to have her find another ride.”

As Dan suddenly realized what the favor was, he chuckled in resignation.

“I’ll tape the game for you—” Justin offered with an apologetic half-grin.

... [more next week!]

Why I Write - Are We There Yet Blog Hop!

2012-03-01T05:59:00.002-08:00

It's March 1st! And March means release month for THE ISIS COLLAR!

Over at my friend Diane Carlisle's site, Are We There Yet? she asked a question: Why Do You Write? She asked various people to respond and link to her blog in a blog hop. Since we're doing a blog tour, it made sense to do a hop as part of the tour. So bunny hop along with me as I explain Why I Write!

I'm not one of those writers who has to write to keep the demons in their head at bay. I love creating worlds and people to live in them, but it's not really a "calling" for me as it is for some writers. But it's an amazing amount of FUN! I love seeing a finished book in my hands. I love knowing that people read about the conversations I had in my head and like the people. I felt amazing the day someone told me how much they HATED a character I wrote! The person's words really struck home. Wow! I mean, I created a character that inspired hate! Of course, I think it's terrific when a reader loves characters too, but if I wanted you to hate the person and you did, it says I'm supposed to be doing this.

I've always loved to read and used to read 2-3 books every day. I don't read quite that much anymore (simply because life intervenes and . . . well, I'm writing now too) but I still love getting lost in a world. Whether it's thriller or mystery, romance or SF/F, the new people and new situations always amaze me. I used to wonder how in the world people could come up with these new ideas.

And now I'm doing it too! How cool is that?!

Obviously, since we're introducing THE ISIS COLLAR this month, it makes sense that I should talk about why I wrote about zombies in Celia's world. Okay, yes--zombies are hot news right now but that's not why. I actually am a huge fan of medical mysteries. Love Robin Cook, Michael Palmer, Kathy Reichs and the like. I watch Mystery Diagnosis, House and Dr. G: Medical Examiner on television.

And I wanted to make a medical mystery. What could be a better mystery than Celia catching a zombie plague? Yes, you read that right. A zombie "plague". It's a bacteria, like Ebola or Leprosy, that's magical in nature (because it can be in her world). The bacteria kills the host, like many deadly bacteria do. But this is no ordinary bug. Once the person dies, the bacteria colony takes over the body! It can walk and interact and scratch and bite. Just like classic zombie movies except how do you kill not just the one body, but a million-billion bacteria causing the body to move? It's VERY fun!

Here's a little sample of what my lovely bacteria, M.Necrose does:

_______________

Nobody knows me better than Bruno. He gets me. We have the same sense of humor, share most of the same attitudes. When it works with us it’s so very good. I took the moment of solace he offered and let my mind and body be whisked away to a better place.

Until the screaming started.

We both reacted as if cattle prods had been shoved into our spines. We sprang away from each other and turned, both searching for the danger. It was interesting seeing which people ran toward the danger and which ran away. The doctors and nurses, by and large, went toward. The clerks and orderlies, away. I would have thought at least the orderlies would stay. They’re usually stuck with the strong-arm stuff when it came to violent patients. But the looks on their faces as they passed by the waiting room said they wanted no part of whatever was down the hall.

There are laws about what you can bring into a hospital, so all I had were charm disks. I came on such short notice to comfort Molly that I didn’t even think about bringing my knives. Well, I wasn’t totally unarmed. I had a level-nine mage by my side.

And who needed more than that?

We rounded the corner and got our first look at the future of the city, and possibly the world, if we didn’t stop this disease. The man was big, tall, and bulky like a construction worker or pro boxer. He filled the hallway, standing still but sensing around him, searching for something to attack. His skin was black—and I don’t mean like an African-American’s, but black like something from the back of the refrigerator, where you would rather throw away the bowl rather than risk taking off the plastic wrap. What remained of his clothing was stuck to the goo—oozing out of the lesions that covered his skin. Doctors and nurses surrounded him, completely baffled about what to do with him.

Bruno skidded to a stop beside me. I wondered what our options were. “Jesus. Is that the endgame of M. necrose. I’ve never seen it.”

“Yeah. But he’s way worse than Principal Sanchez was. This guy’s eyeballs are missing. That is, except for what’s left dangling on his cheek. And for the record, eww. But he’s tracking the people around him.” One arm made a grab for a nearby nurse and managed to catch the fabric of her scrub top. She was quick;, I’d give her that. She stripped out of that thing so fast you’d think it was burning. Her bra was snow-white, matching her widened eyes.

I could smell the death on him, but he sure was active for a corpse.

Bruno said, “I might not be able to pack the body-binding spell into a charm like Creede, but I sure can cast it directly.” I felt the hairs all over my body rise in unison as he raised power without half trying He whispered the words and I felt the energy leave his outstretched hands and fly toward the zombie in the hallway. “Corpus bidim.”

The spell should have frozen the man’s muscles, causing him to fall straight over and hit his nose on the linoleum.

Note I say, should. Because that’s not what happened. The power struck him all right, but, like a movie said when a nuclear bomb exploded uselessly against an alien ship, the target remains.. Bruno got a shocked look on his face. One of the doctors looked at him and said, “Whatever spell you tried to cast . . . do it again. He’s still moving.”

Bruno cast a second time and the power used not only raised my hair but also brought on a sudden bout of my hypervision. I really should have had a nutrition shake before leaving home. While I enjoyed drinking fruit or vegetable juice, they didn’t satisfy my hunger. I had to have either broth or a shake to keep the vampire down.

But the second spell likewise had no effect. I tapped his arm and he noticed my glowing skin and reddened eyes. Nobody else did because everyone was too busy watching the zombie, who was baring sharp-looking teeth and clawlike fingernails, all the better to spread the infection with.

“What the hell?” Bruno’s voice held equal parts disbelief and anger. He’d probably never failed at casting before, but I knew why as I stared at the zombie with different sight.

I tapped Bruno’s arm a second time. “I know what’s wrong—why the spell isn’t working.”

A doctor looked at me and his eyes widened. He reached for the cross around his neck as Bruno said, “Why? What can you see that I can’t?”

I pointed toward the zombie. “You’re casting one spell, against a single individual. But that is a million billion individuals, working together. He’s glowing with tiny dots of energy.” It was bizarre, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Each dot seemed to have the same bands of energy I’d see in a living person. “What else can you try?”

“Freeze, cut him apart . . . a thousand things. What do you think will work?”

I had an idea.

________________

What's the idea? Well, you'll just have to go out and buy the book to find out.

That's why I write. Because how fun is it to create something like this? :D

Now, obviously, since this is one of the first legs of our blog tour, we're giving PRIZES! Comment for a chance to win an autographed copy of THE ISIS COLLAR hot off the press. We'll pick one lucky person (yes, international addresses are okay!) at the end of the full tour so make sure you include your contact email so we can get in touch with you.

Oh, and if you’re intrigued (and you know you are) go out and buy THE ISIS COLLAR by Cat Adams right away! And if you’ve never heard of Celia Graves’ earlier adventures in BLOOD SONG, SIREN SONG and DEMON SONG, they’re on sale until the release of ISIS! It’s a really good sale, too: only $2.99 for a Kindle download. Heck, that’s three for the price of one! And if you’re a print fanatic, they’re also on sale at Amazon on a 4-for-3 special. But lots of other retailers have them on sale too, so go to our publisher’s website, scroll all the way to the bottom and choose your favorite store.

Writing Help - Cover Copy

2012-02-27T06:36:00.000-08:00

Once you've published a few books, your editor will probably contact you while you're still finishing a book to say, "I need a brief synopsis of the plot to give to sales." Encapsulating a whole plot in a few lines is a real challenge and it takes a lot of practice to do it effectively. One of the best ways I've learned how to do this (which is the same thing an agent/editor wants to see in a QUERY---take note, new writers!) is to make a visit to the library or bookstore and start to read the backs of books.

What the sales department often wants to see is the "hook" of the book. Short, snappy and filled with vague details that make you want to pick up the book to find out more. It's how they're going to sell it to the distributors and book buyers (who also want short and snappy---because that salesperson is only one of a dozen they might see in a day.)

But what should be included and what should be EXCLUDED? Here's what I've learned so far and I would love other authors, as well as readers, to share what you like to see in back cover copy:

1. The names of the primary protagonist(s.) At least first names. If a romance, give me BOTH names so I at least know what variety of book it is (M/F, F/F, M/M/F, etc.) If a UF or other genre, just the main person.

2. Tell me what's at stake in the broadest possible view. Will the world end if they fail? Will someone die? Will the ranch be lost and cut up for development? Will the person go bankrupt, wind up in jail or lose a child? Remember to be BROAD and use the worst case scenario. If the worst case isn't "worst enough" in your copy it's harder to sell it to someone who knows nothing about your people or world.

3. What does the person have to lose EMOTIONALLY? Will they have to compromise their values (or morals?) Will they have to disown someone, or be disowned? Will they wind up hated or feared or even fall in love? Remember--short and snappy.

4. Make sure your blurb doesn't require knowledge of any prior books. Sure, it's terrific if the sales people (or agent) already know your work, but really---you should give enough information for someone to pick it up as a FIRST book, even if it's the tenth in a series. Because people change jobs frequently in a city the size of NY. The salesperson assigned for your last book might not be the same person for this one, and might never have even heard of you.

5. Leave them with a question. Not necessarily with a punctuation mark, but with a "will they succeed? will they fail?" concept that is grabbing.

Here's what I came up with for the "rough copy" for Demon Song.

**************************

Celia Graves believed she'd severed the ties between herself and a demon who had plagued her but all the exorcism really did is delay the inevitable. For the unholy entity raised by the siren Eirene has found a new home---in a prison for the magically insane. A rift has opened between the dimensions, unseen since the destruction of Atlantis. It threatens to set loose all the demons of hell upon humanity. Celia has the tools to close the rift, if she can only discover how to use them in time. But to overcome the death curse which nearly guarantees her failure, she'll have to join forces with people she never wanted to trust again, along with those she fears getting closer to.

*************************

Obviously, the editor made some . . . well, edits. But a lot of it remained as I wrote it. This is only six sentences (even if a couple are compound), which fills the bill of "short" for an editor. Did I succeed or fail in implementing my own rules? Would you want to read more? Let me hear you!

Cathy

Friday Shorts - Part Two of Story!

2012-02-24T04:48:00.000-08:00

What happens next between Dan and Meg? Read on!

WHAT GOES AROUND (part 2)

Dan’s face dropped into serious lines and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath and said what everyone said lately. “We didn’t know about your diagnosis until last week or we would have come sooner. Sally wanted to come with me today, but she was afraid she’d get ‘all weepy-washy on you,’ as she puts it. She doesn’t remember her mother, and always thought of you as—” He let the sentence trail off and reached over to grasp her left hand.

She patted his wrist lightly and smiled. “Really, it’s okay. They were able to do a simple lumpectomy, and I just finished chemo. Now it’s just a waiting game to see if we got it all.” Meg wished Dan didn’t look so stricken. But at the same time she felt flattered he would care at all. For herself, she was long past tears. They’d come often at first, but soon the doctors settled her into a treatment routine that left little time for self-pity.

He nodded and took a shaky breath. “Yeah, Dr. Brugetti said things looked good.”

The way he said it sounded odd to Meg. “Was Sally back in for more testing? Is everything okay?”

Pale red flowed into his cheeks and he pulled his hand away from hers a little sheepishly. “Actually . . . I went to the hospital to look for . . . well, you. But, of course, you’re on medical leave. That’s when Dr. Brugetti told me.”

“For me? Why?” A deep breath and then a rush of words made a fine trembling begin in Meg’s chest. “A week ago, I found Sal alone in her room, looking through her hospital box. You remember, the one with toys and games and photos to keep her busy. I saw your picture in there—that day when you played dress-up after her hair fell out. You were both so wrapped up in ribbons and feather boas you wouldn’t know if you had hair or not.” He laughed and she joined him. But when the laugh was done, his smile was warmer, more . . . personal.

“Dan, I—” she began nervously, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

“I realized that moment I missed you. Not the nice nurse who kept my little girl happy and safe while she was sick, but the beautiful, smart woman who kept me sane.”

Meg touched the turban again. “Hardly beautiful.”

He shook his head in mixed amusement and frustration. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, hair or no.” He shrugged like he didn’t know what else to do. “I went to the hospital last week to ask you out to dinner, and I’m asking now.” He reached out, picked up the box and held it out to her. “But before you answer, Sally insisted she wanted to do this, even though I don’t think it’s necessary.”

Meg took the box curiously and allowed her fingers to rest on his for a long moment. He noticed and smiled. She could only stare at the contents in disbelief. She still remembered Sally’s soft blonde waves, so very like her father’s—so very like her own when she still had hair. She took the wig off the foam head and held it up.

“Sally still remembers the day you cut your own hair short and sewed curls on the bottom of the turban I bought her, to make her feel better. She wanted to return the favor.”

Meg only thought her tears were long gone. Dan didn’t seem to mind them as he gently helped her take off the turban and put on the blonde wig. When they walked over to the mirror, she was taken back in time, and then propelled into an unknown future when he leaned over and pressed his lips to her cheek. His fingers tightened around her shoulders, making her shiver with something she didn't expect.

The whisper in her ear turned the shivering into trembling. “I want to be here for you, Meg. You’ve always been there for others, and what goes around, comes around.”

###

Writing Help True Confessions - I write long

2012-02-20T06:36:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name is Cathy and I have a secret...

I write too long.

Whether it's a blog post, a magazine article, a short story or a novel, I write until I'm done writing and it's always long. Every time. Now, most published writers, along with editors and agents will tell you to 'write until you're done' but that's only somewhat true. See, there are times when it's not in your best interests---especially when you're starting out.

I started writing for newspapers and magazines before I turned to novels and when a newspaper says "one column inch" they MEAN one column inch. When you sell a magazine article of 1,500 words, 1,499 should be your goal. A short story anthology that wants 7,000 words won't want 10,000. A category romance which needs 85,000 to fit the pre-cut cover stock simply can't squish in 120,000. Can't be done, no matter how much you shrink the font and narrow the gutters (margins).

So what to do? How do you go about trimming your masterpiece? Fortunately, it's easier than you think. Here are some of the tricks I use when I'm a thousand or even ten thousand words too long:

1. The word "that" is evil. EVIL, I say. Nearly everybody does this because it's proper grammar and we all learned it in school. But few people actually SAY the word, so it can be pulled out of nearly every bit of dialogue you have without effect (you'll be surprised how many there are!) What do I mean? Here's an example:

"I think that we should go to the mall today."

"I think we should go to the mall today."

Which sounds more like what people would say? The second one is more natural. The first one sounds stilted. Unless your character has a very formal personality, you can safely eliminate most of the 'that's. If you have the nerve, do a global search for "that" you'll be both surprised and slightly horrified how many there are.

2. Does the reader REALLY need to know that cute little bit of backstory about the time the heroine fell out of the tree? Does it really matter to the plot, or is it just a nice bit of chit-chat while she and the hero are on their first date (or while in the hospital waiting room, or whatever.) Slash and burn, baby. When you're over word count, the editor is depending on you to make hard choices.

3. Sometimes, the literary metaphor can be trimmed. Do you REALLY need to say that her eyes are "shining emerald orbs" or would "green" work just as well? It's two words down and over a hundred instances that adds up.

4. People speak in contractions. They just do. Use won't, don't, isn't (and even ain't, depending on your character) plus can't, doesn't, wouldn't, couldn't and shouldn't. Again, unless your character is a very formal speaker, a typical American really does use contractions more often than not. Do a global search for "will not", "do not", "is not" etc., to see if you can shorten.

Those are a few of my quick tips that won't require you to cut important scenes. What do YOU do to trim word count? Or have you never considered the possibility you might have to? I'm interested to know!

Cathy

Now at ConDFW!

2012-02-18T04:55:00.000-08:00

I arrived in Dallas yesterday for the first day of ConDFW. ConDFW is:

•A literary-focused science fiction convention.
•Happening February 17-19, 2012. (Our 11th year!)
•Brought to you by the Texas Speculative Fiction Association (TSFA).
•Run by a team of volunteers with varied years of experience.

There are dealer rooms and fan tables, readings, signings and lots of panels for both readers of science fiction/fantasy, but also writers of the genre.

You'd be surprised just how many of your favorite SF/F writers are based in and around Dallas who attend every year (including ME! Well, not every year, but when I can.)

Drop by to say HI! or tell me if you have ever been to a con. I'm interested to know what you think about book conventions. :)

Friday Shorts - New story!

2012-02-17T04:48:00.000-08:00

This is a little quickie that I did for a romance magazine. It wasn't quite what they were looking for, and was really too short to put anywhere else. Enjoy!

What Goes Around...

by Cathy Clamp

The doorbell rang just as Meg started a kettle for tea. She turned off the stove and automatically raised her hand to the floral turban to make sure it was straight as she walked to the door.

Soon. The doctor said I should start seeing hair again in a few months, now that the chemo’s done.

A glance through the window made her check her appearance in the nearby mirror once more in surprise and delight.

She opened the door with a smile. “Well, for heaven’s sake! What a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Baldwin. I didn’t even know you knew where I lived.”

He flashed the same white teeth and dimples that had made her heart skip while on rounds. She fought not to blush as he stared into her eyes with both nervousness and intensity. “I hope it’s okay, Nurse Chapman. I asked Dr. Brugetti for your address. I wanted to deliver this in person. Do you mind if I come inside?”

That’s when she noticed the white box. It was about the size of a cake box, but didn’t look very heavy. Her curiosity overcame
her nervousness and she stepped back, opening the door wider. “Of course. Please come in.” She waved him into the living room, thankful now that she’d had enough energy this morning to dust.

He carefully placed the box on the coffee table and sat down on the couch with arms folded across his broad chest. The thick cushions molded around him as though the couch was custom made. Meg fought not to stare at his muscled bare arms. He’d always visited the hospital in a suit and tie.

When she cleared her throat she realized her mouth had been open, nearly drooling. How embarrassing! Abruptly she sat down in the chair across from him and asked the obvious question. “So, how is Sally, Mr. Baldwin? I so seldom get to hear updates on my patients after they leave the children’s ward.”

He smiled, his face filled with love and happiness. “Please, call me Dan. You’ve earned that right.”

“Then I’m Meg.”

He nodded and continued. “Sally turned eight last week and just joined a Red Cross class at the pool. She wants to be a lifeguard.” He shrugged and chuckled. “Well, this week, anyway. As for next week, we’ll see.” His eyes took on a faraway look that Meg knew well. They’d nearly lost Sally to the cancer that had attacked her bones as a toddler. But she’d been one of the lucky ones. After many months of treatment, she’d been proclaimed
cancer-free.

Sally tried to laugh off the comparison, not even sure Dan knew the truth. "I hope one day they’ll say the same about me."

(to be continued!)

Happy Valentine's Day!

2012-02-14T06:30:00.000-08:00

Today is Valentine's, the day when lovers everywhere express their feelings for the one they love. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do it EVERY day, of course, but if you've been shy or forgetful of that special person, today's the day!

And speaking of that special person, which one of Celia Graves' potential boyfriends should she end up with? Come over to Coffeetime Romance and vote for your favorite. One lucky commenter will be picked to win a special Valentine's suprise package!

You should also visit our second Poll at Coffeetime: Who is your favorite Sazi of all time? Again, prizes galore to one lucky winner!

Finally, over at Absolute Write, we're going to be talking about what is the BEST thing that ever happened to you on Valentine's Day. Come join in the fun!

Writing Help - Avoiding scams!

2012-02-13T04:36:00.000-08:00

Today is a good time for me to touch on one important aspect of agent hunting that is often only briefly touched on in loops and groups: SCAM AVOIDANCE.

This post is for all of those aspiring authors who are seeking representation. It's a sad fact of life that there are people out there who make their money by scamming aspiring authors. The most unfortunate part is that a scammer can give every appearance of being a legitimate agent. They might have a great website, have advertising and even appear at conferences to listen to pitches. But there are no entrance exams necessary, no state or federal regulatory bodies overseeing literary and artistic agents, so they operate with general success unless revealed. But even after revealed, how does the word get out to authors? Well, you're in luck, because there are a number of ways to educate yourself about the scams out there so you can look for solid representation to get your book sold!

Our first stop is the Writer Beware website. Writer Beware is a free service of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. Run by literary watchdogs and multi-published, bestselling fantasy authors A.C. Crispin and Victoria Strauss, they regularly expose the incompetent, dishonest and outright bad agents in the writing world. Here you'll learn what makes a bad agent . . . well, bad. There's a vast difference between an agent who is unable to sell a manuscript and one who has NO INTENTION of selling the manuscript.

"But wait!", you say. Why would an agent accept a manuscript with no intention to sell it? How would they earn any money? Often, it's with fees to the author. As a society, we're accustomed to fees---per page copy costs, postage, processing, handling, shipping, etc. It's logical and even acceptable to us to expect to pay out of pocket costs to a service provider. The confusion comes because many legitimate, selling agents also want to be reimbursed for certain expenses. The difference between scammers and legitimate agents is that the legitimate agents (if they charge expenses at all, and many don't)take these reimbursements out of COMMISSIONS . . . AFTER THE BOOK IS SOLD. Scammers, on the other hand, take the expenses out of the author's pocket by billing them or requesting advance "reading fees" or "escrows against expenses."

Why is this significant? Well, think about it. If you charge a small fee to read a manuscript or $10 or $20 a month for "postage" to a whole list of authors, but never actually do the work involved---how much free money can a scammer earn in a year? Yeah, you guessed it: a surprising amount. And it might not be until YEARS later that an author learns of the deception. They can say all the right things, and an author might already have had a history of rejection, so it's no surprise if a scammer tells the author the very same thing.

So, after you've read through the Writer Beware website, your next stop should be the Association of Author Representatives (AAR) The AAR is an organization of selling agents. In fact, in order to become a member, an applicant must have sold 10 different "literary properties" in an 18 month period. Since an author's whole purpose for hiring an agent is to sell the book, starting the search with agents who have already demonstrated sales is a good first step. The link above is to the AAR's Frequently Asked Questions page, which is a really good introduction to agencies and even gives a list of questions to talk to your agent about after you've been offered representation. It should be mentioned that not all selling agents belong to AAR. It is, after all, like any other organization. But many do, and many others subscribe to the Canon of Ethics that forbid cheating authors and artists.

You can also learn about which agents have sold what (thereby knowing if the agent you're approaching has actually ever sold a book in your genre, despite requesting them in guidelines) at Publisher's Marketplace. The only trick with this particular link is that the "Deals" section of the site is a paid-only site. It costs $20 per month to belong (billed to a credit card), but even a single month is well worth the price, IMO, because you have unlimited search abilities for multiple years and agents.

Our final stop (in the interest of blog space) is Preditors & Editors . The founder of this site has exhaustively researched and exposed scammers---to the point that he's been sued by negatively reported agents and publishers for various reasons. But that hasn't stopped him from doing is best to help YOU, the aspiring author, discover who is a good, selling agent and who isn't. You can search by company or individual name and also read up on his rating scale at this link.

Remember that just like publishers, the golden rule of hiring an agent is simple: Gold flows TO the author.

I hope this little primer will be useful to all you out there. You know those old sayings: "Forewarned is forearmed" and "Knowledge is Power." Here's your chance for both!

Friday Shorts - Part 2 of story!

2012-02-10T16:56:00.000-08:00

What happens next to Barbara? Will she get the tattoo and will it be more than she planned? Read on...

Becoming Alive (part 2)

At last, Barbara found a small shop, tucked between two apartment buildings on a narrow street. A dim light shone through the plate window, where a painted sign read, ‘Tattoos’. She moved closer to the pale shaft of light. Photos of exquisite tattoos stared back at her--multi-colored exotic birds; stylized flaming skulls and all manner of wildlife. Several of the animal tattoos looked nearly alive. The eyes glowered, followed her movements. One photo caught her attention, and she instantly decided. It was a griffin; half lion, half eagle. The guardians of kings and castles. The photograph showed the griffin in traditional posture, one taloned foot raised, its beak opened in defiance. The art was superb; Barbara could see each feather, see a glint of life in the amber eye.

An old, frail man greeted her inside the door. “Welcome!” he said quietly. “I have been expecting you!”

His phrasing made her smile. He made her feel as though she was arriving for a scheduled appointment. She told him what she wanted; complimented his exceptional work. He nodded graciously, and asked her to sit in an old, heavily cushioned chair in the tidy little shop.

“This is your first tattoo?” he asked, as he prepared the needles. Barbara had decided not to watch the process. She was nervous around needles, and wasn’t terribly fond of blood--especially her own.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted one.”

He cocked his head, a bird-like gesture, and asked, “Why wait until now? Why begin life at this time?”

She pondered the question. He made it seem important, not at all casual. “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I guess it’s time for a new beginning. I don’t really feel alive anymore.”

The old man nodded his head, as though she had said something very wise. He smiled secretively, and began his work. Barbara winced as the needle first punctured her skin, injecting the dye, but soon the muted buzzing lulled her. Her already drugged mind edged toward sleep, and she dozed in the chair. Dreams slid through her mind, filled with buzzing insects and thick jungle scents. In the corner of her mind, she heard the old man telling her stories of the Mayan culture. About great kings, and conquests, and treasure.

She woke to the old man shaking her shoulder lightly. Her arm ached under the thick cotton dressing. She started to remove the bandage, to see the beautiful art, but the old man stopped her.

“Wait,” he said. “One more day, and you will see it as it was meant to be seen. It would only disappoint you now. Tomorrow you will understand.” She believed him, not knowing why. Barbara opened her purse to pay, only now realizing that she had never asked the price. Nor had he offered one. She removed a hundred dollar bill, but he pushed it away.

“Art is meant to be shared,” he said with that secret smile. “It cannot be sold. This is my gift to you. For your new beginning.”

Barbara insisted, but the old man stood firm. He would not take money for his art. Then he tilted his head again, looking for all the world like a curious jungle bird, and raised one trembling finger. “But wait,” he said, moving further back into his shop. “If you insist on payment, perhaps you would be interested in this.”

When he returned, he placed an object into her hand and closed her fingers around it. The item was smooth and cool, and she opened her hand to see a large jade stone. It was exquisitely carved with lines and spirals in an oval, slightly elongated shape.

“It’s beautiful!” she breathed softly, but then shook her head and offered it back. “But it’s too much. I could never afford it.”

The old man smiled again. “It was passed down to me by my father, and by his father before him. It would please me to see you use it. It is very lucky. You must keep it with you always. I would take for it the money you offered for my art.”

Barbara was stunned. A carved jade stone like this was worth far more than one hundred dollars, but the man would not be swayed. No, she must have it, and that was the price. No more, no less. She finally relented and left the tiny shop with her lucky charm and her new tattoo.

The next morning she woke and again boarded the bus. She was actually excited, for today the guide told them that they would visit a Mayan temple. Her head was still filled with the dream-like remembrances from the old man. Soon she saw the temple soaring out of the verdant jungle, a masterpiece of stone. As they approached it, the skin under the dressing began to tingle. No matter, she thought, that’s probably normal. As they edged closer on the winding path, the tattoo started to itch. Soon it was as though a thousand ants were crawling on her skin; biting and clawing.

She could stand it no more by the time they reached the parking lot. She raised her sleeve and gingerly untaped the dressing. One glowering green eye greeted her gaze. Her jaw dropped. For there, on her arm, was not the anticipated griffin, boldly screaming to the sky. In its place was a great spotted cat, its tail lashing each time her skin moved. It was beautiful, incredibly detailed. She could see individual hairs rising from its tail. A tiny slitted pupil stared out of the gold-flecked emerald eye, and white teeth gleamed from the open jaw.

No matter how beautiful it was, she was furious! He had done this deliberately. He could never have mistaken a cat for her beloved griffin! She climbed the stone stairs with rising outrage, the “lucky” stone digging into her hip with each step. It probably wasn’t even jade, she thought angrily.

The inside of the temple was cool and dimly lit. She walked around with the others, forcibly turning her mind to the walls carved with glyphs, bright paint still evident here and there. As she approached the altar, one carved figure made her stop and stare. In front of her was a great cat, its spots permanently carved in stone. It was a mirror of the creature on her arm, except that the cat on the wall was missing its eye. A round dent in the wall showed where the eye should be. She lifted her foot to the top step, and the stone in her pocket again pressed on a nerve. She removed the stone and looked at it. A thought struck her and she held it up before her, lined it up with the carving on the wall. It might just fit! Her mind remembered the artist’s words, “his father and his father before him.” How many generations had the stone passed down?

Barbara wedged herself between the altar and the wall, stretching on her tiptoes to place the stone in the hole.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” called the guide. “You can’t touch . . .”

His words came too late, for the stone slid into place with an audible click. Barbara gasped as stones began grinding open. She shared the others’ wide-eyed stares as the heavy slab altar top slid aside, revealing gold objects, jade carvings, and multi-colored stones of every description.

Barbara tried to answer the questions posed by the police and the man from the ministry of antiquities. It was clear they didn’t believe her story. She explained where she got the rock, and showed them the tattoo. Finally, she agreed to lead them to the shop, and let them talk to the artist. When they arrived, she stared in shock. It was vacant! The glass was old and the paint faded. There were no photos in the window. Dust coated everything. A young man approached the police and asked what their business was with his property. Barbara explained why they were there, and about meeting the old tattoo artist.

The man’s eyes grew wide. This had been his grandfather’s shop, he said. It was left to him after the old man died. Poppy had been a master artist; his work was unmatched. But he had been dead for many years. How could she have met him? Barbara didn’t know. She only knew what had happened. She told the young man about the griffin, and how angry she had been that the artist had tattooed a great cat instead.

The young man’s face paled, and he raised his sleeve. There was the griffin! Barbara gasped, but then reached out and touched it gently; reverently. The man asked to see the jaguar, his Grandfather’s favorite subject, and Barbara raised her sleeve. He studied the tattoo, turning her arm to catch the light. Yes, he said, his voice filled with wonder, this was created by my grandfather. You can tell his art, because he used powdered Mayan gold in his ink.

“Gold?” asked Barbara, alarmed. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

The young man raised his brows. “For anyone but Poppy, yes! It makes the process risky, but no work of Poppy’s ever was rejected,” he claimed. “He never told his secret.”

After a moment’s thought, she voiced the question that resonated through her mind. “But why!?!”

The grandson understood the meaning the question, and smiled. “Poppy said gold and life were both created in the fires of the earth, two halves of a whole. He couldn’t replicate one without the other. It’s why El Gato seems so real. Only living skin can make Poppy’s art exist.”

A sudden realization staggered Barbara She didn’t just animate the cat, it had changed her, too. She was becoming more aware; more truly alive.

The officials were frustrated. No one could explain how Barbara got her tattoo or jade eye. Still, in gratitude, they offered to let Barbara take home one item from the altar. She chose the jaguar’s eye over all of the treasures.

The next morning, bags packed, jade tucked in a small leather bag around her neck, she boared the bus to the airport. Raising her sleeve, she spoke to the great cat on her arm. “Well, Gato, shall we go . . . live?”

The cat’s emerald eye sparkled in return.

##

Writing Help - Creating your character!

2012-02-06T04:30:00.000-08:00

I'm an unusual writer, in that people don't spring into my head fully formed. I have to actually WORK to make a character become flesh and blood. Something that's really helped me make great people is a "character profile." People aren't just visual, after all. They have lives before the book opens and continue to have lives after the book shuts. This list of questions has really helped me hone in on what makes a character tick. If you're like me, I think it'll help you too!

Answer these questions for each character you need to make rock on the page:

1. Character Name.
2. Where did character grow up?
3. Choose three clubs/sports the character was involved in in high school.
4. What is a quirk (such as spinning hair around a finger when nervous, etc.?)
5. When decorating an apartment, where would your character shop?
6. What role does money play in your character's life (is a 20" b/w television just as good as a 50" HD flat screen?)
7. Inspiration for Character (i.e., character from a movie, fairy tale, story, etc.)
8. Possible physical features like scars, tattoos, etc.
9. How do you see the character (i.e., sterotype, caricature)
10. Possible conflicts in personality (i.e., likes to watch sports, but hates to PLAY them.)
11. Possible need for change.
12. Values and beliefs (church-going, would the character steal if starving, etc.)
13. How beliefs and values clash (would the character steal if sufficient reason? What is that reason?)
14. What do they need in a mate?
15. Who is the worst person for them to fall in love with?
16. What makes the character emotionally dangerous (seeing someone strike a child, etc.?)
17. What is it about the character that makes it impossible for him/her to simply "walk away" from the crisis of the plot?
18. What does the character most admire about their best friend?
19. What drives the character insane about their best friend?
20. How does the plot help the character learn a lesson or grow?
21. What is the error in thinking during the plot (i.e., thought they could trust someone untrustable, so didn't spot the danger, etc.?)
22. Why do they hold this belief?
23. As a result of this belief, what do they need to learn?
24. What is keeping them from learning it?
25. What are the ways the character tries to "cheat" to keep from having to grow?
26. What event in the external plot forces the character to either grow or change?
27. Pinpoint your character's greatest fear.
28. What is your character's greatest secret?
29. What is your character's best childhood memory?
30. What is your character's WORST childhood memory?

Hope these help! Good luck turning the paper person into a living being!

Friday Shorts - New story - Becoming Alive!

2012-02-05T08:58:00.000-08:00

Here's a little story I wrote long ago. It's just a fun piece that really never found a home. So it's now yours to enjoy!

Becoming Alive

By Cathy Clamp

Barbara stepped off the bus and stood, immobile, in the searing Mexican sunshine. “So, here I am,” she said to herself, and then shook her head in frustration, “Am I a complete idiot?”

The other passengers pushed and jostled their way past her, cursing and muttering with impatience. She ignored them as she tried to combat her apprehension. She finally came to her senses as the driver set her bags next to her on the hot sidewalk.

“Señora,” he said, “You should go inside. The sun, it is very . . .. what is the word?” He struggled internally for a moment, as she stared at him blankly. “Ah, yes!” he exclaimed, “Dangerous. It is not safe for you to be out for too long. Your skin is too pale. You will burn.”

Barbara looked at her bare arm. Her skin was indeed pale. Pale and lifeless. Without looking up, she said, “Señorita.”

“Que?” asked the driver quizzically.

“I’m not married. I am a señorita.”

He shrugged and returned to the bus. She picked up her luggage and checked in, her thoughts occupied by friends left behind. She was annoyed with herself for missing them. They had thought her foolish for scheduling this trip. Single, almost forty-five years old, and newly wealthy. They said she would be a sitting duck for con artists. She was too naive. Barbara had felt insulted. She wasn’t stupid, and she didn’t consider herself naive. She understood darkness; but it baffled her. Then again, sometimes pure motives puzzled her, as well.

Sweet old Mrs. Pederson, her next door neighbor for the last ten years, was filthy rich?? Barbara never knew, certainly. It wasn’t why she’d kept Mrs. Pederson company on the weekends, listening to the old lady’s stories and helping her with yard work. Nobody had been as surprised as Barbara when Elizabeth left her entire sizable fortune to Barbara. Overnight, she had the freedom to never work again; to do whatever she wanted.

Sadly, Barbara didn’t know what she wanted.

She’d always yearned to travel; to see things, do things, be something other than what she was--a dowdy, slightly overweight, stick-in-the-mud.

“So,” she said again, under her breath, as a dense curtain of melancholy fell over her, “Here I am. Now what?”

She dejectedly boarded the bus with the others in the morning, barely hearing the energetic ramblings of the guide. They saw statutes, buildings, art. At some point she realized that she didn’t want to see things. The monuments were dead. They had no spirit left. It had all been sucked out by the mindless hoards that visited. She wanted to see people; see life, energy.

After the tour ended, they were returned to the hotel. Barbara retired early, ignoring her companions in the group. Like the monuments, they were all old; lifeless, struggling to feel vital and needed again. Perhaps, she thought, she’d left it too long. She might be too old for real adventure. Dejected, she went to bed.

Barbara woke in the middle of the night to the sound of firecrackers and loud voices outside. As she stepped onto the balcony, her senses were engulfed in marvelous sights, intense sounds, and exotic scents. She vaguely remembered the guide mentioning that today was a Mayan festival of some sort. Below her, dark skinned bodies flowed and writhed to pulsing music. Colors and light exploded in the sky, illuminating the costumes of the dancers. Her mind awoke as though it had been sleeping. Here, here was life! Barbara quickly dressed and bounded into the throng. Energy moved through the crowd like lightning, making her head reel. When she was handed a drink, she took it, never asking what was in the cup, and never caring. The drink was sweet and thick, like honey, but the alcohol content was strong.

Barbara was soon having the time of her life. She laughed and danced with strangers. She felt the weight of years lift from her shoulders. Everything dazzled her. One man in front of her with skin the color of polished wood was covered with the most beautiful tatoos she had ever seen. A dragon curled around his bare shoulder and spit fire at an eagle with bared talons. Birds rose from blue barked trees, and lazy sapphire clouds drifted over an indigo stream. She was entranced, staring at the beauty of the pictures, more fine art than simple designs.

“A tattoo!” she thought to herself suddenly. “I’ve always wanted one.” She moved away from the crowd, intent on finding a tattoo parlor before the inspiration passed her by. Her vision was blurry, her movements sloppy, but she moved from street to street, searching...

(to be continued)

Writing Help - Dialogue Tags, Part 4

2012-02-02T06:17:00.000-08:00

Today's entry in lessening your dialogue tags is using EMOTION to take the place of the tag. Emotional development is always a great thing in fiction, whether it's a romance story or a thriller. This is a big part of "show" over "tell." You can use the character's emotion to give backstory about what the words are hiding. For example, let's go back to Part 1 of this week, when Jane revealed she was going to the store with a bad dialogue tag:

"I'm going to the store!" Jane sobbed.

As we discussed, you can't 'sob' words, any more than you can kick them. BUT, the goal is to tell the reader she's crying when she's saying the words---or at least that she's in emotional distress.

Here's a better solution to "Jane sobbed."

"I'm going to the store!" Jane tried to keep her voice steady, but the look on Bob's face revealed he realized she was about to burst into tears. It was the first time she would be back at that store since that fateful night when her mother was killed in a drive-by.

Yes, it makes the paragraph longer, but you have so much more insight to why Jane was just sitting on the couch and is now suddenly sobbing.

Even if her mother's death has nothing to do with the plot or hasn't been brought into the plot yet, it give more depth to the character that can later be discussed . . .or not.

Emotions, particularly emotions that conflict with the words being said, are terrific for beefing up a short manuscript without having to add subplots. It's also a way to add tension between people that only the reader can see. Not every emotion shows on a person's face for the other people to see. We keep much inside us and feel it without revealing it to the world. But the reader isn't the world. The reader deserves special insight into the characters that only you, the author, can reveal.

So, now you have some methods to remove some of those pesky dialogue tags that will not only improve your writing but really grab a reader's attention (including those agents and editors you want to LOVE your story!)

Good luck and Happy Writing!

Writing Help - Dialogue Tags, Part 3

2012-02-01T05:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we talked about grouping text as a way to eliminate dialogue tags. But another spiffy way to both eliminate tags and beef up the characterization and plot is to add SENSES in place of tags.

There are five senses: sight, scent, hearing, touch and taste. Every piece of fiction,no matter what genre, can benefit from the use of the senses. Very often, in the rush of the plot and movement, new writers forget about at least two of the senses. They remember sight and hearing. Sometimes even touch. But scent and taste are two AMAZING tools in the author's arsenal that are often overlooked. The senses not only convey information about the character's surroundings, they often bring conflicting emotions to the table during conversations. How many times have you tried to concentrate on something dull, only to have the scent of something wonderful, like baking cookies (or something horrible, like a sewer back-up) distract you from the task? A woman's perfume can linger in the air long after she leaves. A taste of hot chocolate can trigger happy memories of playing in the snow as a child.

"Yes, yes," I can imagine you saying, "Emotions are well and good, but how can they REPLACE dialogue tags?" Very simply. What is more interesting reading? This:

"I can't believe you said that!" Jane said angrily.

or this:

"I can't believe you said that!" Jane inhaled a harsh breath. Even the scent of cookies baking in the oven couldn't calm her.

Readers know that speaking expels air, meaning she has to breathe in. Using that moment to SHOW Jane's anger with both the exclamation point and a harsh breath, reads better. Also, "angrily" doesn't say how angry Jane is. By adding that cookies couldn't calm her reveals more about Jane's character---she likes to bake, and scents can calm her. This is important stuff to a reader. Little things like this become part of the character's backstory and give the reader both insight and depth into your world. "Angrily" simply can't do that. :)

Taste is also a vital replacement to dialogue tags (provided not overused). How many times have you been nervous enough to taste bile on the back of your tongue? What about a metallic taste when you're sick, or even tasting really strong perfume when someone walks by? Taste adds richness to the text and allows the reader to become more immersed in the story without even realizing it's happening.

Tomorrow we'll give examples and please feel free to ask questions about your specific WIP.

Writing Help - Dialogue Tags, Part 2

2012-01-31T06:30:00.000-08:00

So, now you know what a dialogue tag is and how problems can occur in the text. But what can you do to limit the number of tags when you have a dialogue-heavy story/novel?

First, look at the scene where the dialogue tag occurs. How have you structured your paragraphs? Do you have your characters talk back and forth every time they speak, or are there more scenes where one character or the other is doing most of the talking?

One of the things you can do to eliminate dialogue tags is to group larger passages together where one character is speaking at length. For example, let's say Character 1 is explaining how a machine works. Character 2 is the listener. Character 2 doesn't necessarily have to interrupt to add dialogue---and therefore require a new tag. Instead, Character 2 can shrug or nod (which can still be shown in the same paragraph group with Character 1's dialogue).

Next, movement is much better than adjectives to reveal emotions. Think about movies. If a character says, "I'm angry!" but doesn't move, it's hard to believe. But a character who slams doors and kicks shoes across the room or throws a plate is obviously angry without him saying it. The same works in text!

Instead of "I've had it!" Bob said angrily.

How about: "I've had it!" Bob slammed the cabinet door so hard the window rattled.

Which has more impact as a reader?

Tomorrow, we'll include the use of the 5 senses to replace dialogue tags and discuss how to deal with multiple characters in a conversation!

Writing help - dialogue tags

2012-01-30T06:17:00.000-08:00

I get a lot of questions from aspiring authors about dialogue tags. Some of the questions I hear are:

"Is it true you can't use anything except 'said' as a tag?"

"Is it true you can't use ANY tags?"

"What in the heck IS a dialogue tag and why should I care?"

"How can I remove tags and still have readers understand who's talking?"

Over the course of this week's blogs (because a single entry would be loooong), I'm going to explore the concept and use of dialogue tags and we'll go through some exercises to help you remove those that are redundant and add in those that will make the dialogue pop!

First, what IS a "dialogue tag?" Well, in its simplest form, it's a statement to the reader telling them who is speaking in the text. For example, "I'll go to the store," Jane said.

Okay, so why is it enough of a big deal that people bother to discuss it? This is where it starts to get tricky, because the use of dialogue tags is very subjective. You'll find plenty of writers on the shelf today, whether debut or established, who use tags. Some editors have no problem with having a tag with every entry of dialogue. Other editors see the use of them in any places other than where the speaker could be confused to be too many instances. Usually the issue of tags isn't from the use of the tag itself, but the words used. Other than "Jane said," some of the dialogue tags you might see are "Jane exclaimed," "Jane sobbed," "Jane screamed," etc. You can see how the simple statement, "I'll go to the store." changes drastically with the use of each different tag. The reader is suddenly thrust into a completely mindset of the character.

Is that a bad thing? Well, it can be a confusing thing for the reader if the rest of the text doesn't match the tag. If Jane is sitting quietly on the sofa and then suddenly sobs out the words, the reader will scratch his/her head and wonder what they missed. Some editors also consider it "cheating" to use tags in place of descriptive narrative of movement and emotions. It's also a place where new writers add adjectives as shorthand to emotions. "Jane frowned" or "Jane sighed" or "Jane mumbled." The problem with a lot of the adjectives is that you can't SIGH a line of dialogue. You also can't frown one.

Emotional shorthand comes across as inexperience and poor writing to an editor or agent. It can wind up in the 'reject' bin without the editor/agent finishing reading the pages. Why? Because if it's pervasive through the text, it takes a LOOONG time to ferret out and correct before it goes to print. In an age where contract-to-shelf is shortening, editors often don't have the time or patience to take the time to teach the writer how to write. And agents know this so often they won't take the time either.

Tomorrow:

How to identify when you're struggling with dialogue tags.

Friday Short - Part 2 of story

2012-01-27T04:34:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, you got the first half of a Christmas short featuring our favorite werewolf hitman, Tony Giodone. What happens next? Read on...

I wish we could be together tonight. Church bells filled the air again, and I stumbled as I was suddenly in a different place, thinking different thoughts than my own. I was looking out of a hotel window, staring up at the brightly lit Eiffel tower. The image my “eyes” were seeing was from a different angle and closer than the one a moment ago. I knew Sue was in Paris, but hadn’t known exactly where. She was also working for the police now, doing bookkeeping. The new chief of the agency known as Wolven, Lucas Santiago, must have put her up at the Hilton Paris, considering the opulence of the room when we turned away from the window. She didn’t know we were connected . . . not yet. That happens sometimes near the full moon. One of us is just suddenly inside the other and we have to struggle to free ourselves. I pulled out and pushed shut an imaginary door to separate us. I’m still learning that trick, so it wasn’t easy.

A bird in a gilded cage. It was the last thought to slip across my mind as I separated us, and I realized that she wasn’t having much fun here. Initially, the thought of traveling to France and doing useful things had appealed to her, but now reality had set in. She didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak the language, and those who lived here would be with friends and family today and tomorrow. I’d been in Paris during the holidays often enough in my career to know that it’s not very tourist friendly. The events are mostly religious in nature, with a few scattered concerts and parties . . . if you know where to go, and have an invitation. There was probably something going on in the hotel for the guests, but Sue’s not exactly outgoing. She’s getting better, but it hasn’t been that long since she was constantly depressed. In fact, we met because she wanted to commit suicide.

A car pulled up at the curb near the store where Ramsey was just exiting. I moved as close as I dared to watch. An excited child’s voice shouted, “Papa! Papa! Happy Christmas!” The small girl, not more than five or six, raced toward him laughing, smelling of citrus happiness and melon shampoo. Ramsey was forced to lift up the packages so she didn’t collide face first with the largest bag. She wrapped arms tightly around his thigh and he lifted it as well, balancing nicely on one leg. She squealed happily, releasing a puff of steam that smelled of bubble gum before sliding around to the back of the leg. She dropped off to land on the sidewalk on her tush. It apparently was a frequent game by his chuckle. He stepped over her and she stood and ran back around to face him, white knit beret askew.

“Happy Christmas to you too, poppet.” It was the first time I’d heard Ramsey speak. I’d expected a more eastern European accent, considering where the murders were committed. But his voice was pure upper crust British, with a slightly Scottish rolling of the ‘r’s. “I was just on my way home to drop off these packages before leaving.”

The girl’s face fell and her disappointment was so thick it rode over the mist. “Oh, must you go, Papa? Can’t you please stay for Christmas morning? Mama’s making crepes—the ones you like, with strawberries.” She motioned to the car and I noticed a slim blonde driving that was obviously the mother of the girl.

“—and complimentary strawberries, mais ouis. May I bring you anything else, Madame Giodone?” I nearly dropped to my knees from the force of the space shift to Sue’s head inside the hotel. I heard—and felt—her weighty sigh as she accepted the tiny magnum of champagne and bowl of strawberries dipped in thick dark chocolate from the uniformed French waiter.

“No. No, that’s fine. Nothing else.” She shut the door after passing across a hefty tip and I felt a heavy sensation in my chest as she sighed and took a bite of strawberry. The need to be there with her, feeding her that strawberry, was so intense I could barely stop myself from racing into the darkness.

It’s a mating thing. Sazis can’t seem to stand their mates being in pain. Me, I have a hard time when she’s depressed. I do better with things like wounds. A knife cut or bullet hole—that’s a pure, clean sort of pain and unless it’s life threatening to her, I have no problem with Sue hurting. But sorrow, anguish, sadness . . . those I struggle with. It’s better than it was when we first mated, but I don’t like to feel her hurting.

Ramsey abruptly dropped the packages and reached for the girl, lifting her into his arms to hold her tight. The jaw-tightening worchestershire sauce scent of fear made an odd combination with the sugar cookie scent of love. “I wish I could, Beatrice. I truly do. But I don’t dare risk it . . . don’t dare risk you and Mama.”

So, he knew he was being hunted and worried that I’d take out his family. No, even in the old days, working for the Mob, I wouldn’t take down a man’s family. Innocents got a free pass unless they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Technically speaking, Beatrice and her mom were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but geez . . . it’s Christmas Eve.

I was probably going to wind up spending the next week working for free and have a strip of skin ripped off my body by Lucas for failing to finish the job when I had the chance. But call me a softy. I stepped out from the shadows and walked toward Ramsey and his daughter. His nose lifted into the air and he turned suddenly, clutching the girl to his chest with such fierce intensity that she began to struggle.

My shrug and non-threatening scent must have taken him by surprise, because his brow furrowed. As I walked toward him on the sidewalk, I deliberately spun the cylinder on the Taurus, knowing his ears would pick it up. “Seventy-two hours, Ramsey.” I said quietly enough that his daughter probably wouldn’t hear, and kept talking as I passed him by. “Have your crepes and play with your kid. But then I’m coming after you. I have no choice. The Sazi council’s signed your death sentence.”

The shock of surprised scent turned to lemon and oranges delight. He suddenly hugged Beatrice even tighter and spun around while she laughed. “Very well then, little scamp. If you insist, I will stay home for crepes with you and Mama. But make no mistake. I must leave on Friday. Yes?”

My head turned to watch as I crossed the street. The girl was jumping up and down on the sidewalk while shouting her joy, and the young woman ran around the car to hug Ramsey. I nearly couldn’t make out the few quietly said words over the bells of Notre Dame. “Happy Christmas then, Wolven. And thank you.”

I turned up the collar of my jacket and started making my way toward the Hilton. Maybe I could pick up a present in the hotel gift shop, or maybe I’d settle for feeding my wife chocolate strawberries and strolling hand in hand under the Christmas lights . And maybe I’d stay in the hotel longer than three days. We’d see. But either way, it was going to be happy Christmas indeed.

Thursday banter - Digital Book World 2012

2012-01-26T06:11:00.000-08:00

So today, I think I'm just going to do a book banter. The Digital Book World expo 2012 just ended. Digital Book World's Twitter description is: "Digital Book World focuses on publishing strategies, not tools; solutions, not theories; practicality, not punditry". The Twitter handle is: @DigiBookWorld, if you want to visit.

Very interesting concept, and there were a lot of really interesting discussion points raised. Some of the leaders of the book industry attended and gave a blow-by-blow on Twitter (and probably FaceBook, but I'm not over there.) Some of the tweets that grabbed me the most were:

1. It was announced that $70-120 MILLION dollars is being lost on ebook sales by publishers due to self-publishing. So...something you didn't used to even HAVE is now somehow being lost? Interesting. I wonder if it occurs to anyone in the publishing hierarchy that if more publishing deals were offered to aspiring authors, they might not feel the need to self-publish? Self-publishing is sort of a pain. It's not hard, per se, but if choice a) is to hand the book to someone and they hand you back a check for thousands of dollars, and then market it worldwide without the author's effort; versus choice b) where the author self-publishes and has to wade through the process, market it, and take in small checks over a longer time, which do you suppose they'd pick?

Along those same lines, bookstores and secondary markets aren't helping themselves, either. Midlist books are disappearing from shelves faster than you can say 'boo', with only NYT bestsellers appearing in their place. Yes, they're guaranteed sales to fans of THOSE AUTHORS, but midlist authors are the future bestseller, but if you don't shelve them, they will never reach that plateau.

2. 40 MILLION people already own an e-reader and 61 MILLION will have a tablet by the end of 2012. Hmmm... think maybe ebooks have some viability after all? With Amazon offering placement to self-pubs, publishers really need to revisit direct marketing to readers.

3. NBC broke the news that they are launching a publishing arm of the company, NBC Publishing. What will that mean? I can foresee a lot of television stars getting book deals, and TV tie-in novels getting a new home. Will they become a monopoly (and will other networks follow suit)? Only time will tell.

Have any of you been following the #dbw12 hashtag on Twitter? Or better, did you attend the con? Go visit and tell me what you found most interesting!

So you're attending your first writing convention!

2012-01-25T04:48:00.000-08:00

It's quickly becoming what in the industry is known as "conference season." Oh, sure---conferences and conventions occur year round, but it's really in the spring and summer when they're at their peak. You can find a convention nearly anywhere in the country (or world). Some are big, others small. Some are genre specific, some are multi-discipline. Some have agents and editors, others are geared just to readers. They're terrific places to not only meet your favorite authors, but to meet other people who love the same books as you!

At a convention you're allowed to be serious or silly, to learn and grow as a writer and hopefully to meet that special person who will put your book (and you) on the map!

For the purpose of today’s blog, we’re going to assume that you’re attending your first convention in the hope of finding an agent or publisher to look at your book. What are some of the do’s and don’ts of taking your book idea to a convention to interest someone?

Of course, every writers conference is a bit different, so a lot depends on whether you're going to a general conference that would have all sorts of different kinds and styles of writing, or a more specific genre (mystery, romance, horror) conference. They are quite often a lot of fun and very informative. The larger conferences are much more grand -- with lots of different topics, speakers and events. Smaller conferences can be a good place to start, because they're not so fast-paced and confusing. But there are a few tips:

1. DO NOT take copies of your books. This has been the bane of many an editor/agent and you will be remembered for doing it, just not in a good way. Do take along a short synopsis of each book in case you get the opportunity to meet with an agent/editor. If you are lucky enough to meet an editor or agent you should have two things memorized in your head.

First is the "elevator pitch." The premise is that you get in an elevator on the ground floor of the hotel and the only other person in the elevator happens to be a major publishing house editor or your "dreamed-of" agent. You have five minutes to get to the top floor and nobody is going to interrupt you. The agent/editor turns to you as the doors close and says, "Oh! You're a writer? So, what is your book about?" You should have a brief speech already in your head so that by the time the doors open at the end of the time, the editor is nodding, handing you a business card and saying, "Sounds interesting. Why don't you send me a synopsis and a couple of chapters? Nice meeting you!" Make the effort to actually TIME your speech, so that it's no longer than five minutes. This can also work if you meet someone in the bar or get placed at the same lunch table. The elevator pitch is a terrific thing to have with you.

Second is the "formal pitch." This should be a bit more involved (but you can always fall back on the elevator pitch if need be.) The editor/agent will want to know: 1) the GENRE of the book; 2) the TITLE of the book; 3) the PLOT of the book (not the subplots, not the prologue, just the general plot. Try to sum it up in a half page pitch); 4) the CHARACTERS of the book (basic information like names, nationality/species, basic description, basic background). You normally have ten minutes, which is why I'd consider the five minute pitch. You can use the other five minutes for a Q&A session. Don't be afraid to actually READ the information from 3x5 notecards or a notebook. The editor doesn't expect you to be a polished speaker. They just want to know about the book.

2. Take the classes that actually seem interesting and, if possible, ALWAYS attend publisher spotlights. A publisher "spotlight" has an editor of a particular publishing house tell the audience about the various lines at their house and what sort of books they're looking for in the next couple of seasons. You'll learn the names of the various editors, and quite possibly can ask questions about things in their guidelines which confuse you. NEVER be afraid to ask questions, but honor any request to not duplicate if someone else asks something similar, or if they don't want to be interrupted during their presentation.

3. ALWAYS attend any free breakfasts/lunches that are part of the price, or if not, then try to budget for at least one of the scheduled lunches. Steel yourself at the door and then sit down at a table with a bunch of strangers. You never know who you'll meet and sometimes you'll wind up meeting your next critique partner or future best friend. You might also wind up meeting your next agent or sell your book on the spot. Really. It's THAT important for you be brave and outgoing. The best ice-breaker that I've found is: "So, what do YOU write?" Just ask any person at random, and then really listen to the answer. Ask questions and you'll get asked in return about yours usually. You might not like the genre they write, but you never know until you ask.

4. Ask for business cards when you meet new people, and then make sure to drop them an e-mail or handwritten note when you get home. Writing is a very close community, and knowing just the right person can sometimes make the world of difference.

5. Attend any book signings that are part of the package. You don't have to buy anything if you can't afford to, but watch how the authors interact with the fans and think what you would do the same or different when you're behind the table signing someday.

6. Wear comfortable shoes! I can't stress that enough. Fashion is nice, but those conferences are often HUGE and spread far apart (sometimes in different towers or in different BUILDINGS.) Get blisters on the first day, and the next one or two will be miserable.

7. If you can take a friend with you, more the better, but don't forget to meet new people. That's the whole point of the gathering.

Hope this helps a bit, and have fun at your first conference!

Writing help - Believability (suspension of disbelief)

2012-01-23T04:48:00.000-08:00

One of the most interesting things about writing paranormal romance is that you get to make up stuff. However, one of the most frustrating things to readers is making up TOO MUCH stuff. Ultimately, there’s one rule that cannot be broken:

THE READER MUST BELIEVE THE UNBELIEVABLE IS POSSIBLE!

But how does an author make the reader believe that here there be dragons (or vampires, werewolves, aliens and the like)? That’s where research comes in! For example, in our Sazi shapeshifter world, we created moon-based shifters that hide in plain sight in the real world. Naturally, they’d have to have magic that would allow them to create illusions. Likewise, a good bit of magic would be some sort of aversion ability that would make humans not want to come closer. The research involved natural cycles of the moon, existing legends/lore about werewolves and such to see what would work or what we should change, psychology texts that gave us ideas about the ways magic could augment “fight or flight” fears, plus a certain amount of physics (could we change the mass of a 200 lb. human into a wolf the size of a normal wolf, or would the resulting wolf have to be the size of a Shetland pony?)

For this sort of nebulous research (not really knowing what you’re looking for—just a random idea) I like either Google (http://www.google.com ) or MetaCrawler (http://www.metacrawler.com —a search engine that looks on OTHER search engines.) Since there’s no one solid source of information, it’s like playing hangman. You remember that game, right? Pick letters of the alphabet to fill in blank lines before you get all the body parts to fill the noose. Sometimes, a full day of searching will result in a single idea that creates believability . . . causes that momentary lull that allows the reader to sink further into the story.

Likewise, when you’re crafting a paranormal adventure with crimes involved, you have to let the reader believe that cops have smarts. Just like your reader, THEY’RE NOT STUPID! The cop on the scene will NOT ignore wounds and evidence just because it’s inconvenient to your plot. They will NOT let the parties wander off to attend to their crisis (with a variety of deadly weapons) if they have a hint the characters are involved in the crime. The more realistic you are in getting your characters out of trouble, the more likely the reader is to empathize with the plot. So what would a cop do when faced with a paranormal situation? Well, how about asking them? There's usually a "Media Relations" official with most major police departments, or you can even post on loops or groups to see if there are writers out there who are also officers. It's surprising just how many people in law enforcement become authors!

See, one of the things I find most useful in research isn’t the written word. It’s the spoken word. There’s no substitute for real life experience in creating a fake life experience. I belong to a number of author forums where the authors have real life experience in a variety of things. One site where I’m a member took this idea one step further and asked the members to post their specialties in various fields. From firefighters to medieval linguistic experts, opera center directors to cryptanalysts, there’s quite possibly everything under the sun in places you already know! Here are some of my favorite sites to get cool real life research information:

The Absolute Write Story Research Room (you can read without joining, but have to be a member to post a question. It’s free, though.)
http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/showthread.php?t=10463

The Romance Divas Think Tank (you’ll have to join this forum to read or post, but there’s no fee.)
http://www.romancedivas.com/divaforum/index.php?s=d61b105fab9bca225cc298f5613473e4&showforum=19

Writers.net (you can read without joining, but have to be a member to post a question. It’s free, though.)
http://www.writers.net

Writers BBS (you’ll have to join this forum to read or post, but there’s no fee.)
http://www.writersbbs.com/forums/#chat

Since the devil is in the details, finding people who have DONE the details can really give your book that authentic touch. It was through a forum that I learned the address of a website with instructors who taught pysanky (Ukrainian egg art.) Once I visited the site, I found an instructor who was only two hours away and (joy O joy!) was giving a demonstration at a charity event just a few days later. I visited, we talked and I got to watch an egg being created. Without that visual data of watching, I wouldn’t have known to create a subplot about making the dyes, or adding tiny tidbits about how old dye can develop a scummy surface (but still work fine.) I wouldn’t have known that my heroine’s fingers will cramp up after hours of holding the kiska (hot wax applicators.) That sort of thing doesn’t show up in books. I learned what element of the creation process would be easiest to turn into a magical event.

Of course, sex in paranormal is a whole different ball game! The sky is the limit so long as the body is capable. One of the best sites I’ve found for the history of sex and pregnancy in science fiction and fantasy is Enpsychlopedia, which contains an awesome list of what’s been done to date: ( http://enpsychlopedia.org/psypsych/Pregnancy_in_science_fiction ) I’ve gotten some terrific ideas from “them that came before.” :)

So, that’s my list of tips for the paranormal writers among you. Good luck, and good researching!

Writing help - Show vs. Tell

2012-01-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

I spend a lot of time visiting forums and websites, helping aspiring authors make their book the best it can be—getting it ready for publication one day. One of the things I get told a lot is that writers are getting rejections that say something like, “I really wanted to love this book, but there was too much telling,” or “Show me your character. I just couldn’t get invested in him/her.”

Huh? What in the world does that mean?

One of the better discussions I’ve seen on this lately was in a blog entry written by fellow Tor author Carrie Vaughn. In it, she discussed how to take a scene that was mostly “tell” and turn it into a “show.”

In part two of the blog, she explained how in some cases, “showing” needn’t necessarily increase the size of a scene (which is an argument I often hear against showing.) They’re definitely worth a read.

What I want to discuss here isn’t so much HOW to change a telling scene to a showing one (because Carrie’s blog does such a good job at that), but why it impacts the writing so much. What is it about showing that is so critical to agents and editors? Why does telling make the person judging the book (again, an agent or editor) step away and say, “Nope. The problems are more than I can fix. I must reject it.”?

When you write a book, you’re breathing life into a paper construct. One of the most critical things about creating a character is making the reader BELIEVE that before the book opened, that person was alive. They had parents, a childhood, pets, friends, did chores, went through the pain of school, and the joy of love (this is true even of a child character.) Even a tragic character had some joy. Even the happiest optimist experienced some pain.

If you give your character a pet, there’s a story behind it. They picked that pet for a reason. They feed it, care for it, bend their life to fit around that living being. There are emotions tied to the ownership of the pet. So to give that paper character a being to care for imbues it with the emotions that go with the interaction.

Telling robs the emotion from the character. If you say, “Bob walked the dog before he raced off into the night.” you've told the reader nothing. The reader simply shrugs and says, "Okay. Why bother to even mention the dog if there’s no joy or fear in the interaction." Dogs are smart. He’s going to know something’s wrong with Bob. He’s going to sense fear or happiness or a thousand other emotions . . . and react to it. A one line throw-away doesn’t do Bob or his dog (or the plot) any justice.

A few moments, a simple paragraph, is all it takes for the reader to BELIEVE that Bob loves his dog (or hates it, or is indifferent to it). How he treats his dog will be how your reader reacts to Bob. Does he put aside his pain so his dog has fun on the walk? Is he impatient that the dog finish his business outside? You can paint a few simple lines between Bob and his dog and turn a “tell” into a brilliant, throat-catching “show” that will leave the readers believing nearly everything Bob later does.

So, if you’ve been told there’s too much “tell” going on in your book, you need to look to the throwaway lines. Look for those things that you’ve given to your character to make them flesh and bone and see where no flesh was ever added.

Bare bones won’t sell a book. Only flesh and blood will get under the readers’ skin and make the character come alive.

Take a second to comment and tell me YOUR show vs. tell story. Is there a point where someone pointed out the tell or do you struggle every day with trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong? Let’s get some dialogue going and see if we can help everyone out there discover the difference in their own WIP.

Friday Shorts - new story

2012-01-20T06:43:00.000-08:00

So, I've decided that on Fridays, I'm going to start posting short stories. It'll be in pieces, from Friday to Friday, and then will be put together at the end for your reading pleasure. Since Christmas just happened, I figured the first story should be one about the holiday time of year. This is a story that first appeared in Affaire de Coeuer magazine a number of years ago. For Sazi lovers, it's a Tony Giodone story called:

NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING

Working on Christmas Eve sucks . . . even if you like your job. I was keeping to the shadows of the Paris alleys following the mark, because the City of Lights is even more so during the holidays. He’d suspected he was being chased in London a week ago, but probably thought he’d lost me in Lille after he hightailed it off the Eurostar with a stolen BMW.

He was wrong.

The near constant ringing of Notre Dame’s bells to signal the nativity mass had allowed me to get closer. Staying downwind made sure that his preternatural nose wouldn’t put him on guard. I find it interesting that even though was turned into a Sazi, a shapeshifting wolf, after an attack, not all that much has changed in my business as a professional assassin—with the exception that now I’m working for the good guys. It’s still weird introducing myself as Tony Giodone, lawman.

I slid a gloved hand inside my pocket to make sure my Taurus .38, complete with silver bullets, was ready to draw at a moment’s notice. Serial killer Dauren Ramsey was known for his viciousness and with him being a massive grizzly bear to my lesser werewolf on the full moon, I was at a distinct disadvantage.

Just the way I like it.

While I’d been following Ramsey, a thick cloud cover had blanketed the area, smothering the scents of balsam, cinnamon and the raft of human emotions under a wet mist that reminded me so much of the scent of sorrow that it was no wonder locals referred to winter as Gray Paree. Twinkling lights along the Champs Élysée diffused, taking on the appearance of a watercolor mural—all cool and blue, instead of stark white and festive.

I realized that the blue sorrow wasn’t just what I was seeing, it was inside my head too. The psychic connection I share with my wife is still sort of new to me. I’d closed myself off from Sue as I often do during jobs. While she liked a little better that I was now working for the shapeshifter police force instead of the Mafia—the job is still the same. I kill people for money. I just happen to kill seriously demented murderers now, those who are too physically and magically powerful to ever be held behind bars. Sazi are like any other predators. Once they get a taste for human flesh, there’s no way to rehabilitate them.

Unfortunately, Sue has a hard time with my job in the best times, and it’s harder for her when we’re mind-linked as I pull the trigger. It shouldn’t even be possible that we are connected, or so say the experts. She’s full human with no magic in her blood. But we are, and I am . . . so we do the best we can.

“La poesie, ca ne vaut pas un sandwich?” I’d heard the beggar approach me from behind but I ignored him at first, intent on my prey. A moment later, a hand touched my jacket and I turned narrowed eyes as he repeated the words. They sounded better in French than the English translation of, “isn’t poetry worth a sandwich?” The old man’s smell was rank with unwashed sweat, but there was no malice intended. He smelled beaten down by life, and afraid of me, but desperate. Being able to smell a person’s emotions is also new for me but it’s sure handy for spotting lies.

Normally, I’d just brush him off but my goal was to blend in. I reached in my pants pocket and handed him some bills while putting a finger to my lips—the universal request for silence. I still haven’t gotten used to the Euro conversions, so I had no idea how much I’d given him. But from the way his eyes lit up and he nodded mutely, I presume it was more than enough for a sandwich. Probably closer to a bottle of bubbly.

Another wave of depression slapped at my mind as I moved from shadow to shadow watching Ramsey gather an impressive number of shopping bags. I found it hard to imagine he was shopping for loved ones, since he’d been on the run for years. He’d disappeared into the European underworld after slaughtering and eating a dozen people in Imljani, Bosnia around the turn of the century . . . the nineteenth century, that is. But even in the supernatural world, there’s no statute of limitations for murder. So here I was in Paris of the twenty-first century, bringing down a convicted killer who, from the eyewitness accounts, made Jack the Ripper look like Jack and the Beanstalk...

(to be continued)

Starting anew...

2012-01-18T06:17:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day of . . . well, of everything 2012 for me. I'm officially re-launching this blog with all new stuff. All old posts on this site are gone. This year will mark a change in what I do, writing-wise. I'm going to produce more books, more stories and interact with all of YOU more! It'll take time and I'm sure there will be stumbles along the way, but I want to get more involved with helping all of you enjoy writing and reading and lots of stuff.

We'll talk about topics of the day that involve writing and I'll give some hints and tips about stuff to do. I'm hoping to start posting some original stories that are languishing in file folders where nobody can see them, and have people you might know and like drop by to chat too!

Today's topic is an extension of something I've been chatting about on Twitter today.

Today Wikipedia has shuttered to protest #SOPA and a comment was made that a user wished there was an alternative to Wiki, because so many libraries are closed. I hadn't heard that apparently, the austerity measures in the UK have resulted in slashing of funding for libraries in the United Kingdom and they're closing left and right. In Ireland, the Library Council has been disbanded and their libraries are threatened too. The (to me, ridiculous) reason is that "we have the internet, we don't need libraries."

Not need libraries!? Say that again? Libraries should be the heart and soul of a town or city. They should be partners with the internet, inseparable and yet unique.

I think one of the problems is that they're often underfunded (so antiquated as far as technology) and people seem to forget they're there in the rush of today's busy life. Even for myself, I know I don't visit as often as I'd like. But they can and should be vital. They can and should be useful.

But it takes wanting it. Authors, readers, general citizens, have to be interested enough to take a stand. Even if you only buy books, or only write books, libraries keep you in touch with things not in the book store. Classics, reference material, magazines. All are fodder for future books. All are valuable.

What do YOU think? Are libraries part of the past, or tickets to the future? Let me know!