It's All About the Book

Site Moved

2010-01-12T16:37:00.001-05:00

Come see my new blog at www.SimpleMystery.com!

Hundredth, and Final, Post

2010-01-07T19:33:00.002-05:00

Ok, I confess, that was a bit of a tease. Yes, it is the hundredth post. And it is sort of the final one. Because for post 101, I'll be moving this blog over to my new website, www.simplemystery.com. Because, let's face it: www.all-about-the-book.blogspot.com? What was I thinking?

But in the meantime, I'm going to swipe an idea from my pal Kelly and use this hundredth post to solicit questions from the audience. Anything you want to ask me about, I'll do my best to answer in the next post. Questions about writing welcome, questions about anything else welcome as well. I sort of doubt I have many lurkers, except maybe my Dad, but if I do, this would be a great time to delurk!

See you on the flip side,

Jane

Ten Years, Man

2010-01-01T17:54:00.005-05:00

So, it's a new year all over again. And since we're changing the penultimate digit this time around, I'm thinking less about everything that's changed in 2009 and more about everything that's changed since 2000.

When 2000 rolled around it was, if you'll recall, a big damn deal. I'm talking pomp and circumstance, and dancing in the streets. Remember... hee hee... Y2K? I was just twenty-two, spending a good chunk of my time resenting my awesome job at a newspaper because they expected me to spend so much more time on it than I'd ever had to spend on college.

And then here it was: 2000. A big freakin' number that said clearly that we were moving forward into the future, that this was a Day to Be Marked. It never honestly occurred to me that I'd even be seeing New Years Eve 2010. I mean, I expected to, but only in the way that you expect to die someday. It was a length of time I really couldn't envision.

But here I am. And I'm a different me. In evidence of which, I offer these pictures.

These are the shoes I wore on New Year's Eve 2000. I wore them around downtown Fort Worth, in the midst of a rockin', rollin' Texas-style celebration. They hurt my feet, my toes nearly froze off, and I spent all night worried that I'd scrape through that thin sheen of blue to reveal the papier mache or whatever was underneath.

And here are the shoes I wore this year:

I wore them in my living room, while Mark and I watched a Burn Notice marathon, then switched to the Times Square ball drop for the last five minutes. We toasted with half a can of Coke apiece, kissed, spoke of our undying love and fidelity, and then got back to Burn Notice. Full disclosure: I was also wearing socks at the time.

So what those shoes are saying, I guess, is that things change--sometimes for the worse, sometimes for the better, and often for both.

That's how my life has been, but much more on the better side than the worse. I've got a decade less of life to run with here in 2010, not to mention fertility and facial elasticity. But I've also got a husband and a life I love. And I think (I hope) I'm more a bit wiser now, a bit more generous, more patient.

What I'm not, and what I would have expected to be by now, is finished.

I'm not finished figuring out how to be the person I want to be. How to be disciplined, and courageous, and stylish, and organized. Nor am I established in my career. By any measure, I'm farther along than when this millennium started, but I am not there.

And because I'm 2010 me, and not 2000 me, I'm old enough to know that maybe you never really get finished. Maybe it's all really about the journey

Or maybe that's malarkey, but here are a few things I know:

The 2010 me likes comfortable shoes and doesn't care who knows it.
Burn Notice is very, very good.
The optimism I felt at the beginning of 2000 is nothing like the optimism I have now. And I think that's because I've got the right companion for 2010.

Happy New Year, everyone!

In Case You Haven't Heard, Vampires Are In

2009-12-21T08:19:00.001-05:00

Take a look at this snap of the Teen section at the good ol' B&N and tell me if you see what I see.

I see a metric ton of red, black, and purple. A good assortment of chillingly beautiful, yet otherworldly faces. And confirmation that vampires aren't just a thing in teen fiction anymore; they're The Thing.

This, my friends, is the power of marketing, and of storytelling. Between them, Stephanie Meyer and her publisher have moved an entire generation. I predict we'll be seeing ripples of this effect in adult fiction for years to come.

I'm Officially Old

2009-12-20T12:20:00.003-05:00

Mark and I had this conversation in the car today:

Mark: "You know what? Maybe we should start bringing plastic cups with us when we travel."

"Why would we start bringing plastic cups with us when we travel?"

"Because then we wouldn't have to use the glasses in the hotel rooms."

"Oh, right, because of that thing I read. That they don't really wash them, just swab them out with the cleaning rag."

"Right. We could bring plastic cups, and then we could use those instead."

"Sounds great." (Pause.) "You know, maybe what we should really do is start keeping a sleeve of plastic cups in the car. Then they could be called into service on any number of occasions."

"That sounds really good."

Then we high fived. Ok, we didn't. This isn't even a verbatim transcript; I added in a little bit of the dreaded DAE (dialogue as exposition) to catch you up on our previous marital conversations. But I think it's pretty clear that any days we had as a young, hip couple are officially in the past.

Merry Christmas, Awesome Dude

2009-12-18T16:15:00.001-05:00

This is the third year in which I've been treated to the breathtaking Yuletide spectacle that is my neighbor's Christmas display. Actually, he isn't really my neighbor, meaning that I can't see his house from anywhere on my street. Except for at Christmas, when I can.

Lest you think this isn't impressive enough, here is the view of the side lawn.

Maybe it's just me, but something about this year's decor seems... I dunno, subdued. What happened to the rest of the Peanuts cast? I swear there used to be more of them out here. And why does the Abominable Snowman have electric boobs? I really can't say.

At least this drummer boy border is new -- and a worthy addition, I think.

Yes, I know, I know. Some might find this annoying. But me, I can't help but admire someone who isn't afraid to dream big.

So Merry Christmas, Mr. Insanely Overdecorated Lawn Man. Your power bill is large, but your heart is ginormous.

First Partial Request

2009-12-15T17:41:00.004-05:00

Well, what a whirlwind day. Remember that rejection I blogged about oh, six hours ago?

Well, it wasn't entirely a rejection. I mean, it was a no. But at the end of that no was a "Why don't you contact this other agent? He likes mysteries."

So, I did. I researched Mr. Other Agent, then sent him a query, mentioning that he had been recommended to me by Ms. First Agent. And darned if he didn't e-mail me right back with a request for the first fifty pages.

So, the first partial has been dispatched into cyberspace, and I am keeping my fingers crossed. We'll see if my "pro status" lasts through the emotional loop-de-loop that is the partial submission.

First Rejection

2009-12-15T12:47:00.002-05:00

So, I woke up this morning to a nice fat rejection note in my inbox. I've always prided myself on the fact that I was one of those people who, darn it, could just take rejection. No big deal. Part of the business, baby.

Yep, I've always prided myself on that, but I have to admit it hasn't always worked out that way. When I was shopping around my last book, a rejection letter would get me down for a whole day, maybe two.

But this time? It looks like I'm over it. No more sticking my tongue out at the agent's web page. No hiding the e-mail in a sub-folder so I won't accidentally see it and get depressed all over again. I am fine with it, and (call me supremely arrogant) more surprised than disappointed.

Which means I guess I'm now... a businesswoman. Or maybe just a grownup.

Cafe Throwdown

2009-12-13T15:57:00.000-05:00

When you spend most of your days with your nose buried in your laptop, you don't see a lot of high drama. But today was an exception.

I was sitting in the Borders cafe, which was pretty crowded. A group of medical students had taken the table next to the wall, the one with easy outlet access. Another woman had taken the table next to theirs, and since she had no plug of her own, she had stretched her laptop cord across the aisle to their outlet.

Eventually a bookstore employee arrived. She tried to bring humor to the situation. "Uh oh, the cord police are here," she said. "We can't have cords stretched across the aisles." Then she asked the two parties to switch places.

You would have thought she asked them to strip naked, such was the stink they caused. The woman with the laptop immediately started yelling. The medical students joined in the ruckus. The laptop lady began to mimic the bookseller's request in a high-pitched, silly voice.

The bookseller tried to keep her cool, but a little irritation was starting to creep into her voice. I could scarcely blame her.

Finally, the patrons agreed to change places. And in the inevitable shuffling of bags, it was revealed that one of the medical students had brought in a bag of McDonald's takeout to eat while studying.

"You can't have food from other places," the bookseller told him. Whereupon he insisted that he'd done so several times before and never had a problem. Dude, seriously? I mean, if you sneak in a little baggie of nuts I'm not going to judge you. But McDonald's? For real?

At last, the switching of places was done. The Micky D's was banished to the medical student's backpack. The bookseller left. And the woman with the laptop continued to loudly grouse about her, calling her, among other things, a "fuckin' bitch."

I don't get it.

Senseless rudeness always get me down. Inattentive rudeness, everyone's guilty of that from time to time. Rudeness through misunderstanding, that happens too. But plain ol' I'm-pissed-so-I'm-going-to-make-you-feel-bad rudeness? Blows my mind.

Besides that, your relationship with an establishment you frequent is just that, a relationship. It involves give and take. The baristas and booksellers owe me decent service; I owe them the occasional purchase. And we both owe each other basic good manners and civility.

And there is one thing that guides my behavior when push comes to shove, when cord issues or cleanliness or noise threatens to create a conflict: It is more their place than mine.

I don't go into your home and object to the standards you've set for it, and I don't do it in your place of business either. If there's a rule I can't live with, I am free to go elsewhere. I'm certainly not going to pitch a fit because I can't have things my way.

I wish I could make the people in the cafe understand that way of thinking, but I can't. All I can do is what I did: track down the bookseller in the back of the store and tell her that I've always appreciated her pleasantness and that I was sorry she was treated that way. Which leaves me feeling a little good, a little ineffectual. Maybe Miss Manners could have done a better job.

The Third Book

2009-12-11T14:00:00.002-05:00

One of the lines I like to use with my friends is that "Writing a book is like writing three books." If they need an explanation, the shorthand is this: "It's just so much more work than you think it's going to be."

But in fact, the three book analogy is a little more apt than that. It really is, I'm not kidding, like writing three books. The first book is the first infodump, those 75,000 or so words that sort of contain a plot. Out of that you pull the second book, the book that makes sense, the book where the gun your character acquired on page 50 doesn't mysteriously disappear on page 200 just because you need her to be in danger. And finally you preen and polish your way to the third book, the book that has a theme, the book where relationships build the way they're supposed to, and everything feels resonant and real.

For me, it was when I crossed that boundary from second book to third book that I began being able to actually hold the whole thing in my head. Suddenly gone from my mental canvas were all the little half-formed subplots and alternate courses I'd rejected along the way. I could remember where this bit was, where that bit ended up. And when I made a change to one scene, I had an instant mental map to the four other places I'd need to touch to make it work.

After a lot of that touching, and fiddling, and fussing, I'm ready to say that the third book is done.

I sent out query letters last night, but not before spending a long time worrying about it. I had two voices in my head. One said, "The book is strong. You know the book is strong. The query letter is strong. You have had your group look at it two times (which was perhaps excessive). The synopsis is strong. The first five pages are strong. For God's sake, send it out and get it working for you."

And then the other voice would say, "It's mid-December. Everybody's busy this time of year. Agents have parties to go to, presents to shop for, relatives to avoid discussing uncomfortable topics with. In short, they have lives. For all you know, they're already checked out for the month. Do you really want your query to be one of the twelve hundred they come back to on January 2nd? Besides, if you wait and send it mid-January, you can spend another month worrying about whether the third sentence in paragraph 17 might have too many syllables."

In the end, that last argument was the one that did it. The fact that I simply didn't know what else I'd do to the book, besides fret over it, convinced me to send it out.

These days most people prefer e-queries, so that's what I sent. And I already got one response, albeit a "I got your query letter and will review it" response. Which began with the words "This is not a form rejection." Nearly stopped my heart. "Oh, my God, it's a non-form rejection!" I thought. "I hate those too!"

You Know You're a Geek When

2009-12-08T15:56:00.001-05:00

You can proxy up an entire board game from stuff you've got lying around the house.

Guess Where I'm Blogging From

2009-11-24T21:07:00.000-05:00

I'm en route to DFW tonight, to spend Thanksgiving with my parents, brother, and sister. Delta is debuting a new service, in-flight wifi. They want to charge $10 for this eventually, but it looks like the first taste is free. It's a very slow connection, so I don't think they'll hook me longterm. But realistically, I am a hopeless cheapskate, and therefore not their target audience.

The spread of wifi seems to be really accelerating. Just last month Borders bit the bullet and started providing free wifi to compete with Barnes and Noble. Things are cutthroat in that cafe now; you can't get an outlet to save your life.

Meanwhile, Google is busy making plans for netbooks running its new Chrome OS, an operating system that is fast, cheap, and simple to use -- because all it is, basically, is an access portal to the internet. Which means the spread of wifi is a very, very good thing for them.

Are we heading toward a whole new world? Or is it really true that the more things change, the more things stay the same? I don't really know, but it kind of blows my mind that my kids will grow up more pluggged into the global community than I could ever have dreamed of in my youth.

Actually, it kind of blows my mind that I'm sitting on a plane blogging, using words like "the global community" to talk to that community while I drink my free half-a-coke and the captain warns us about turbulence.

But that's life here on the bleeding edge.

What Did You Bait Yours With Today?

2009-11-22T11:49:00.000-05:00

I wish pedantry wasn't so much fun, because everyone hates a pedant. And with, I suppose, good reason. Showing people up is not nice.

But there's such joy in it, I tell you! And so, for the next five minutes, I will give myself permission to be a nasty smarty-pants and present to you:

Three Humorous Homophones I See All Over the Internet
(And Occasionally in Print)

"My kids know how to tow the line." I always picture a kid with a line slung over his shoulder, pulling for all he's worth. It is properly toe the line. As in, to not make the roller coaster operator yell at you.
"We were able to eek out a compromise." Ball your hands into fists, squint your eyes and squeal "A compromise!" It's fun. Correctly, this is eke out a compromise.
"I was waiting with baited breath." My absolute fave. Caviar is good, but some people swear by a good old-fashioned worm. It should be bated. As in abate, to diminish or repress.

And now I shall return to being the proper lady that my mother and Miss Manners would like me to be. Pay no attention to the lady behind the curtain. Yes, she is a pedant. But most of the time she knows better.

Wednesday

2009-11-19T00:56:00.001-05:00

I'm blaming the lack of a Tuesday update on Mark.

Monday

2009-11-16T21:52:00.003-05:00

This would look better if I'd quit adding cards.

Sunday

2009-11-15T20:24:00.003-05:00

We are entering the home stretch, folks. The cards indicate things I have left to do for my book. On the left, tasks not yet completed. In the middle, tasks in progress. And on the right, tasks already completed this week.

Getting there.

Jane's Guide to Editing in the Tub

2009-11-15T19:44:00.000-05:00

Put your hair up with a chopstick. This not only keeps it dry, it looks writerly.
Think ahead. If you tend to accumulate almost-but-not-quite-out-of-ink pens, scribble test before you get soaked.
Keep a washcloth nearby so you can keep your hands (and pages) dry.
You can tolerate a much longer, much hotter bath if you get a cool drink. I recommend a big 32 oz. of Naked Juice, available at half price from Sam's.
Bubbles are not compulsory, but are recommended.

Racism, Realism, and the 20th Century

2009-11-07T09:28:00.000-05:00

Writing a book that takes place in 1928 requires certain adjustments. Adjustments in my way of thinking, but also in my way of using words. Kitty uses "O.K," not the more modern spelling "okay." She would never dream of taking the Lord's name in vain. And when she wants to call bullshit, she calls "applesauce" instead.

But there are times when I just can't go whole hog for 1928 speech. Such as, when it comes to race. The language of 1928 was, let's face it, pretty racist. And I don't just mean the actual words, like, you know, like that word. I mean the grammar was racist.

Pick up a newspaper from the early twentieth century, and you'll notice something funny. A story about a white man reads, "Joe Watson was run over by a car today." But a story about a black man reads, "Joe Watson, colored, was run over by a car today." The subject's race was apparently as essential to the article as the subject's gender is today.

And then there's the use of words that denote race as nouns, rather than as adjectives. Maybe you'll think this is a small quibble, but I think it's not. I think it matters. Say something like "A Negro was sitting on the park bench," and you're using the word "Negro" in place of the word "man." It begins to sound like you don't think the subject is a man at all -- at least not in the same way that "a (white) man sitting on the park bench" would be. Kitty uses twenties vocabulary such as "Oriental" and "Negro," because those are the words that are available to her -- but she would no more say "a Negro" than I would say "a black."

And her attitudes are, I'll cheerfully admit, much more egalitarian than the average person of her day. Kitty sees race very easily -- in fact, she sees it with a finer grain than most modern people, as she generally notes the heritage of white characters, be they Irish or Italian or Polish. But she doesn't stereotype, look down on, or fear people because of their race. She believes all men are created equal.

This may not be realistic, but realism doesn't necessarily make good fiction. And there are other things to worry about besides realism: (1) the reader's enjoyment of the book (reading about characters who are badly out of step with modern mores isn't all that enjoyable) and (2) my own morals.

My Small Contribution to the Health Care Debate

2009-11-05T11:04:00.000-05:00

I usually try to keep politics off this blog, partly because I know not everyone wants to hear about it, but mostly, I confess, because I am a coward and I fear losing friends. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like political discourse has gotten a lot less friendly and a lot more scream-y over recent years. And of course the health care debate is no exception.

I am no fan of government-run health care, but I have to admit that the current system needs work. And so, though I know it would not solve everything, I present my own modest proposal:

No flat co-pays.

It's all about externalities. In economic terms, an externality is when someone makes a decision but doesn't bear the consequences of that decision. When you buy a plane ticket your boss is paying for, that's an externality. And generally externalities lead to extra costs: you just aren't as careful with someone else's money as you are with your own. Maybe you forget to buy that ticket until after the rates go up; maybe you pay through the nose for a direct flight you wouldn't have bought with your own scratch.

It seems to me that a lot of the problems with American health care can be traced to two externalities:

The insurance company is involved in making medical decisions, but they don't care how bad you feel and
You are involved in making medical decisions, but you don't care how much the insurance company pays

Though, of course, you should care -- you're paying for it in the end. Anyway, let's deal with Externality #2 for a moment. Let me tell you a little story.

A couple of years back, Mark had a bruise on his leg that wouldn't go away. Many days after the injury, it was still dark-colored and painful. I convinced him to go to the doctor to check it out -- maybe the bone had a stress fracture? Or maybe I was a nervous Nellie. Anyway, he went.

"It's not a stress fracture," said the doctor. "To be honest with you, I think it's just a bad bruise. There's a small chance -- really small -- that you could have a blood clot. If you want, we can do an ultrasound to be sure. But honestly I don't think it's necessary."

For us, this decision seemed easy. We were paying the same flat co-pay either way, so why not just do the ultrasound? The other decision -- leave and come back in a week or so if the pain persisted -- might wind up costing us time, whereas this option cost us nothing.

If we had been paying a percentage-based co-pay instead, maybe it wouldn't have been such a no-brainer. Maybe we would have looked at the extra cost and decided against it. But as it was, we made a decision that benefited us marginally and hurt everyone else on our plan.

And we weren't alone. Because this is the same thing everybody else is doing when they assent to all these "extra procedures" the touted government efficiency is supposed to prevent. These people aren't evil, or even necessarily all that callous, they're just sensible. And because of an externality, they have no incentive to act differently. Heck, they don't even have an incentive to check over the bill and make sure the services their insurance was billed for were actually performed.

Make patients bear some of the costs of their own decisions, and you would enlist them in keeping those costs down.

So that addresses Externality #2, and now we're back to Externality #1: insurance companies don't care how bad you feel. Well, in my ideal world, what you'd "buy" for accepting a percentage-based co-pay would be greater control over your own health care decisions. Now that you're working to balance the two concerns at hand: -- your health and the cost of your care -- your insurance company should be able to just butt out and more or less let you run things.

Also, decouple insurance and employment and you'd allow consumers to punish bad business practices by (1) switching providers and (2) spreading word of mouth. Then maybe, just maybe, the insurance company would care how you feel.

Zombies Ate My Weekend

2009-11-04T23:00:00.002-05:00

I may be just a mild-mannered writer in a ruffle-collared blouse, but even I have dreams that in the Zombie Apocalypse, I will be one of the few to survive. I imagine boarding up the windows and, if necessary, taking out the stairs from the first story of my house to the second. Zombies can't climb rope ladders, don't you know?

Anyway, this weekend I got the chance to try out my zombie busting skillz for the first time, with a little gem from PopCap called Plants vs. Zombies. Basically, you defend your home from zombies by planting various plants, each of which have abilities such as shooting peas, tossing watermelons, or expelling poisonous gas.

Mark downloaded it first, then after a few hours he let me take a crack at it. He watched me play the first few levels. "Ah," he mused, "to be young again and playing Plants vs. Zombies for the first time."

I totally get it, babe. Because, man, these plants! These zombies! They are totally addictive, and it's only now, after a full two days of immersion, that I am starting to break away.

What's so great about Plants vs. Zombies?

First of all: cute! The art in the game is really charming; even the zombies manage to look adorable. I mean, look at that guy. With a cone on his head! Silly zombie.

Second of all: grindable! The game has a wealth of things to buy, complete, collect, and otherwise muck about with. It's chicken soup for the obsessive compulsive soul.

It's been a long time since I enjoyed a game this much, and to be honest it doesn't come at the best time. I am, for the first time in a long time, in flow with my writing. Deep flow. Like, rip tide. I'm talking push-on-through-to-the-end-of-the-book-and-get-it-in-the-mail flow. And if my flow has one nemesis in all the world, it's -- no, not zombies --gaming.

I hope I won't be accused of melodrama if I say that, through gaming, I have come to understand how alcoholics feel about alcohol. It's not just a compulsion, you understand. It's love. It's the beautiful, rich color of a really good scotch. It's the giddy feeling you get when you toast a zombie with your Cob Cannon just as he steps onto your porch.

For better or worse, but I think forever -- I love to game. Love it enough to ignore the other things I love, like reading and socializing and writing my book. And so to have some zombie come and woo my inner gamer right now, just when I've gotten into flow -- well, it frightens me. Which is why the mouse I need to play this game is at home, and I am currently at Borders.

Blogging about Plants vs. Zombies.

Ode to a Writing Group

2009-10-31T21:34:00.000-04:00

When you know you've met someone special, you don't want to ever let them go. That's the way it is with me and my current writing group. We started seeing each other more than five years ago when I lived in San Jose. And though it's now a long distance relationship, somehow we manage to keep the magic alive.

We just have great chemistry. Even five years in I am routinely surprised and pleased by the quality of the feedback I get.

Maybe it helps that we're all at a similar part of our careers. All four of us have just finished a novel -- or almost finished it, or really-almost-finished-it-and-I-mean-it-this-time. And this month one of our members (I'll call her the Poetess) had some big news. She has landed a literary agent, who is currently shopping her book around to publishers.

If you know me, you'll know what my first reaction was -- jealousy, and shame that I hadn't gotten there first. Because as much as I believe in the Poetess and want her to succeed, jealousy is never far away when I consider the success of other writers. That is just one of the less-than-exactly-likable qualities of me.

"I've got to get that book out there," I couldn't stop myself from saying. Another member (I'll call him Outlander) chimed in with "Yeah." And I could hear that he was feeling it too: that left-behind feeling, that gotta-get-my-butt-in-gear feeling. Which I suppose, for both of us, is a good thing.

We went on to discuss queries and climaxes, flashbacks and denouements along with our fourth member (Newshound). And by the end of it all we had decided to kick ourselves into fifth gear by meeting twice as often: every two weeks instead of every month.

And this is one of the things I love about my group: we roll with the punches. We're past the uninvested stage where everyone just goes with the original status quo. We accommodate each other, and we're not afraid to speak up when we want something to change.

Meeting twice a month is a little scary for me. Much as I appreciate them, there are times when I need to forget about Outlander, Newshound, and the Poetess; there are times when an impending meeting begins to feel like someone reading over my shoulder while I write. But I think it'll be, on balance, good for me. Because there's one word for how I feel following this week's meeting.

Motivated.

Shredded

2009-10-30T23:08:00.003-04:00

I've been doing Jillian Michael's famous 30 Day Shred for about... oh, 30 days now, though I have to admit those days have not been precisely consecutive. And it seems to be working.

Jillian performs twenty-two minutes of exercises along with her assistants: Natalie, who models the hard version of the exercise, and Anita, who models the beginning version. These women are like sharks. I mean, there is nothing to them but muscle and a vestigial skeletal structure. Usually I roll with Natalie, but when it comes to push-ups I hang back with Anita.

I must say that for a professional trainer, Jillian is shockingly demotivating. Here are some of the things she says: "I know you want to quit;" "Don't quit on me;" "We don't quit at the end;" "I know you want to shut off this DVD, but don't."

These reminders that you could at any time simply turn off the TV, kick back in your sweat-soaked shorts, and have a beer are a constant theme of hers. She also lies about the number of reps, frequently saying "A couple more," when she really means "ten more." And then there's the part where she says if you do the Shred, you'll look like Natalie in no time -- and then the two of them share a sarcastic chuckle.

But when I ignore what she says and just do what she does, I have to admit that I get results.
A brief record:

Day 3: I am already beginning to see results. Nothing dramatic, just a slight tightening up of my abdomen. I haven't lost weight, I don't look substantially different, but I can see that something is beginning to happen.

Day 10: I notice that my stamina is significantly higher than it used to be: i.e., I can do the Shred without spending the next half hour draped over my bed and wanting to die. This is a plus.

Day 15: My upper abs look pretty sweet now: tight and muscular, with a distinct line of definition down the middle. There follows many days of slow, slow progress, as the definition creeps from the top of my abs downward. My weight on the scale still hasn't moved, but that's ok: I know muscle weighs more than fat.

Day 30: I notice a sexy dent of definition between the ball of my shoulder and my trapezuis muscle, the one that stretches along the top of the shoulder to the neck. This is also the day when the scale miraculously jumps down by five pounds, and I pull up my shirt, look at myself in the mirror and decide that I am officially more Hot than Not.

So, after 30 days I don't feel as dramatically "shredded" as Jillian suggested I might be. That's fine, though; I like my new look enough to stick with it for at least another 30.

In Which I Get Angry

2009-10-29T18:25:00.004-04:00

The web has been buzzing over the past few days with news of a horrifying gang rape outside a high school homecoming dance. The details of the crime are absolutely staggering: as many as twenty male students watched as a 15-year-old girl was raped and beaten for over two hours.

This event comes just a few months after the 10-year anniversary of the Columbine massacre. I remember watching the news of that event unfold ten years ago, and thinking what we were probably all thinking: How in God's name could a thing like this happen? What is wrong with the world, that something so evil can take place?

But now I look back ten years and think that Columbine was a lot easier to understand than this. Although the damage Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris wrought was many times more grievous than that in the current California case, at least their actions could be dismissed as the actions of a couple of wackos. A couple of sick, sick teenagers who operated outside of normal society.

But that's not the case in today's case. Twenty people -- twenty! -- watched the assault, and although they are not criminals in the legal sense, in the moral sense they are. In this case it's not just a couple of individuals who are sick, but rather an entire community.

So what's that sick community, is what I'm asking myself. Is it Teens Today, or California, or 21st-Century America? Could it be as small as Richmond High School, or as big as Humanity itself?

A lot of people have been decrying the fact that there is no law under which the observers of the rape can be charged. And while I, too, would like to see them punished, I have to ask: what does it matter? Because if not one of those twenty young men had enough compassion in his heart to help that girl, what good are laws going to do us?

In Which the Web is Awesome

2009-10-28T09:00:00.001-04:00

OK, you already knew that the web was awesome, right? But perhaps you don't truly appreciate the depth of its awesomeness. Like how you can get from one teensy granule of information to the exact knowledge you're seeking.

I was looking for a paragraph. Just a random graf, from a random page in a random novel that I read when I was in high school. It was from a fantasy, and concerned the protagonist's freshly cast spell -- how she could sense the spell's fullness and rightness and completeness. The idea of the graf had always stuck with me, but after seventeen-or-so years, the actual words had faded from memory. I only had one scrap left: if she had tapped it with her nail, it would have rung like a bell.

I typed that phrase into Google, but I didn't get any relevant hits. It's just full of too many generic words (though Google helpfully suggested that maybe I meant "if she had taped it with her nail.") Moreover, I wasn't sure I had the exact words; like I said, it had been awhile.

The next step was to look for the book itself. I remembered that it was a fantasy, I remembered the plot, and I remembered that there was a red-headed girl on the front in a purple dress.
After scouring my brain, I remembered that the protagonist was a magic user referred to as "mageborn" and that one of the minor characters was called "Alix." I was worried that both of these search terms would be too common (I'm sure more than a few books use the word "mageborn"), but a simple search for "mageborn Alix" returns several results for Barbara Hambly's Stranger at the Wedding.

At this point I considered just buying the book. It is out of print, but there are used copies available on Amazon, and I remembered greatly enjoying it as a teen.

But I wanted to see if I could get further, actually uncover that paragraph. And so I turned to Google Books. This service allows you to search for text within books -- lots and lots of books -- which Google has scanned. Search for "Call me Ishmael" and you'll get Moby Dick. Search for "Tarleton twins" and you'll get Gone With the Wind. Search for "Richard Parker" and you'll get Life of Pi, which I highly recommend.

Google doesn't let you see the whole book unless it's out of copyright or the publisher has granted permission. But it's a fun place to bum around, and if you don't believe me, try paging through a few old Life magazines from the thirties. The ads alone are delightful.

So I searched for "Stranger at the Wedding," then searched within it for my one key phrase: "if she had tapped it with her nail, it would have rung like a bell." After a few variations, I hit on it. But I still didn't have the whole paragraph! Google would return a few lines at a time, but they didn't have permission to reveal a large excerpt, so I was left with fragments. After several minutes of playing around I had the beginning of the paragraph, and the end, but was missing a few words from the middle.

The final step: I took those opening words and typed them into a regular Google web search. And found myself directed to Scribd.com.

Scribd is a self-publishing webstite; I'm guessing that after Hambly's publisher let her book go out of print, she turned to Scribd so she could continue to sell it. Interestingly, in the Scribd version, Hambly has edited out the final phrase, the one phrase I remembered for all these years, the phrase that enabled me to start this search in the first place. But when I put the Scribd text together with the Google Books text, I finally had the graf I was looking for:

To her inner perception of magic, the spell felt hard and smooth, like blown glass cooled perfectly to its final shape; if she had tapped it with her nail, it would have rung like a bell.

And now that I see the thing in its entirety, I remember why it stuck in my head for so many years. This is exactly (exactly!) what I am always trying to achieve with my writing. Not for my writing to feel like Hambly's, but for it to feel the way her protagonist's spell felt: solid and cohesive and unblemished and resonant.

I can imagine my nails running over that blown glass she's talking about, feeling the smoothness, how there's nothing on that surface that catches or snags. In my head, the glass's final shape is a sphere, and when I imagine tapping it I can almost hear the chime.

And.... I'm Back

2009-10-27T23:00:00.000-04:00

I've been absent from the blogosphere for almost two months now. Sorry to disappoint you, Mom! But I had gotten my groove back, writing wise, and I didn't want any distractions.

Now that I'm settled into the groove, I'm back to blogging. More tomorrow, but for now I'll just mark my return with:

Three Things I Learned While I Was Away From Blogging

The Atlanta Bread Company has so-so bread but killer wifi.
Skirt steak prepared very well and cut against the grain is still skirt steak.
The "drainage pipe" can also be called the "sewage pipe." Note to husbands: If your wife is currently mopping up overflow from said pipe, use the word "drainage."

The First Annual Kitchen Fest

2009-08-27T13:33:00.016-04:00

Last week I was home in Texas (ah, Texas!) to visit the fam. My sister, Kate, just got back from a 2-year teaching gig in China, and as it happens, both she and I are really into cooking at the moment. Long before I arrived on site, we had agreed that we might spend basically my entire visit cooking. And it turns out that's what we did.

We sauteed. We pureed. We seeded. We boiled and roasted and baked. We also goofed around. There was some Whitney Houston, and some Journey. Also a cucumber-microphone.

Somewhere around day 2, deep into the pasta-rolling phase, I asked her what I should call this event for my blog.

"I could call it, um, Kitchen Fest '09?" I said.

Kate gasped. "We should have a Kitchen Fest every year!"

I gasped. "That is the best idea ever!"

We fell deep into discussions of exactly what Kitchen Fest entailed and how to commemorate it.

"We could have t-shirts that said Kitchen Fest," Kate said.

"No, aprons!"

"With badges!"

Kate was in favor of having our aprons read "Co-founder" in the event that Kitchen Fest eventually expands to include other participants. But I personally feel that this is against the spirit of Kitchen Fest. While we were negotiating this, Mark happened into the kitchen.

"Are you playing Kitchen Fest?" he asked.

"Playing?!" I said. "We're not playing!" said Kate.

And thus Kitchen Fest was born.

We have every intention of repeating it next summer. Currently on the slate for 2010 is canning, though that's certainly not set in stone. Here's what we made this year:

Butternut Squash Soup

This recipe was already a big success for me on the home front, and in this wider showing it did not disappoint. Friends and family alike declared it delicious. If you use this recipe, I think it's best to remove a few big spoonfuls of stock before pureeing, so you wind up with a nice, thick texture. Also the cream is, for me, not essential.

Ravioli

We added a bit of wheat flour to the dough, with ok results, I think. We used three fillings: Alton Brown's meatloaf filling, a spinach ricotta filling, and a butternut squash and carmelized onion filling that was my personal favorite.

By the time we were done (and we did this a lot) we thought we had developed a good hand at making the dough reach the right consistency. I feel like I haven't perfected ravioli yet, though... sounds like there's more rolling in my future.

Red Sauce

Sorry, I don't have a picture of this one. But let me just tell you that it was phenomenal. It totally overwhelmed the ravioli, but that was ok, because it was just... so... fantastic! It was perhaps a little too spicy; we didn't have chili flake, so we used red pepper instead and cut back on the amount... but perhaps not enough. Red pepper is wonderfully healthy, though, so in the future I may try to just tone it down instead of going over to chili flake.

Chicken Stock

Yes, there's a chicken somewhere in that pot. I feel almost certain of it. This was Kate's recipe, so I don't have a link, but basically it goes like this: Wash a chicken. Chop some veggies. Boil them for a long, long, long, long time.

We let it go five hours, and the flavor was pretty darn wonderful. Afterwards, Kate cut the flesh off the chicken to use for soup, and it too was just delish.

Raspberry Breakfast Bars

Don't let the title fool you; these are dessert bars, plain and simple. They're like brownies, but with fruit. Yum! Look in the lower right, and you'll see the corner we sacrificed to immediate tasting. I'm looking forward to trying these with strawberries, or maybe blackberries. Although, to be clear, there was nothing wrong with the raspberry filling. It was positively delectable.

And there you have Kitchen Fest '09. I'm willing to declare it a great success, because I had fun with my family and also learned a few things. As for Kitchen Fest 2010, well... does anyone know where I can get some custom aprons?

Good Business and Adequate Salsa

2009-08-02T21:11:00.003-04:00

The other day at Borders I was browsing the tables up front and came across this interesting find: America's Most Wanted Recipes.

It's a collection of recipes from popular restaurants, like Chili's, the Olive Garden, and KFC. What a great idea, I thought.

Because it is. An interesting book, one that should appeal to a lot of people--even people outside the normal cookbook market. A good seller.

I flipped through the table of contents and found exactly one recipe I really, really wanted: Chili's salsa. And then I did a thing that I perhaps should not have done:

I copied it down.

Ok, yes, I know this was wrong. But it was literally the only recipe I wanted. And after I went home, I made a discovery. The recipe was very, very marginally different from this recipe, found all over the web:

Chili's Salsa Copycat Recipe

1 14.5 oz. can tomatoes with green chiles
1 14.5 oz. can whole peeled tomatoes
4 tsp diced jalepeno
1/4 cup diced onion
3/4 tsp garlic salt
1/2 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp sugar

1. Pulse fresh vegetables in food processor.
2. Add everything else and process.

This information cast a new light on America's Most Wanted Recipes. Was it possible that the author didn't actually develop the recipes for the book? That instead he just copied info from the web, tweaked it, collated it into a nice format, and sent it off to be published? I don't actually know how true this is, of course--I only read one recipe--but it seemed possible.

When I encounter something like this, I feel slightly... irked, even ripped off--as though the author were cheating at life. Hey, what gives, I want to say. Why do you get to be in the front of the bookstore?

But then I have to slow down, climb off my high horse, and remember that:

Bringing a product to a new market is a valuable service.

By putting together that book, the author brought those recipes to a new demographic, the demographic of people who doesn't search the web for copycat recipes, but might be interested anyway. That's valuable. And if he can earn some money from that, well, he deserves it. But it doesn't really even matter if he deserves it because...

The success of others does not impoverish me.

There's no reason in the world for me to feel jealous or annoyed when somebody else thinks of a good way to make money--or publication, or critical acclaim, or any of the other things I sometimes get jealous of. Even if it seems to me that what they're doing doesn't have value, or that their effort was not commensurate with the reward--well, who cares? Why should I begrudge them their success? The bottom line is: I shouldn't. An the end of the day, they're them and I'm me. I can find my own way to success and be happy for them too.

***

Once I got my head on straight, I took a look at my purloined salsa recipe. It was darn easy; apart from chopping a few meager veggies (which I like), and cleaning my food processor, there was basically nothing to do. I whipped it up and tried it. It was good.

But it wasn't just right.

I let the flavors meld overnight, but it still didn't taste like Chili's to me. So I packed some up in a ramekin and decided to taste test it against the real thing.

For those of you who knew me pre-2002, you're probably thinking, "Hey! What's going on here? Jane hates salsa!" The truth is, Mark's been training me up: first on chili, then salsa, and now we're up to crazy things like chicken wings. So I was excited to see how close I had come to the real thing.

Just from the picture you can see a few differences. Mine is chunkier. Also, they didn't seed their jalepenos, and I did. (like I said, I have a history as a spice wimp. I panicked.) Also, their chunks of pepper are a softer, more mossy green, meaning that they were cooked rather than fresh.

But the real differences were in the taste. Chili's salsa tastes miles more fresh and spicy. After a bite of mine, I can distinctly taste garlic and cumin, whereas the Chili's seasoning was more of a piece with the whole dish. Theirs was also much brighter; I wondered if it might contain some lemon juice. Mark thought it might have hot sauce.

So, the upshot is that we have a laundry list of things to try with the next batch. Roast the peppers. Leave the seeds. Try hot sauce and lemon juice. And Mark's interested in trying some other peppers, not just jalepenos.

I believe I can conquer that salsa. Just give me time...

The Truth About Working at Home... With Your Husband

2009-07-25T08:47:00.002-04:00

A while back I wrote about the ugly Truth About Working at Home. Since Mark's joined me at home while he works on a programming project of his own, I thought it was time for an update about life in a home office for two.

1. You will spend more time making food.

I'm perfectly willing to make a lunch out of string cheese for myself. But if Mark's around, well, it's at least gonna be string cheese and a veggie.

2. You will feed off each other's moods.

You know how hard it is to maintain a cherry attitude when your office mate is grim and grumpy and monosyllabic? Well, now imagine he's your office mate AND your husband.

3. You will uncover previously unknown flaws in your beloved.

I just have to ask: how can a man fill up his office trash can every day? Every blessed day? I know for a fact that his work is mostly on the computer. So how does this happen?

For Mark's part, I'm sure he is just now realizing how many stashes of unmated socks I have in various corners of the closets. And how bad I am at disciplining the cats.

4. You will lose all sense of time.

When Mark was working, it was fairly easy for me to stay anchored in the real world. I nearly always knew what day of the week it was. Now I work on Sunday, relax on Tuesday, and stay up 'til 4 a.m. on a regular basis. When neither of us have any time-specific commitments, it's just all too easy to lose track of the clock.

5. At some point, the honeymoon will be over.

You will realize that this is not in fact some wonderful working vacation -- a rare chance to spend more time with your man. Instead, this is your new life. It's no longer romantic, and thrilling, and blissful. It's just real, and present, and, from a financial perspective, a little bit scary.

When this realization hits you, it's not a bad thing. It's a chance to come down to earth and appreciate your situation with new, more grown up eyes. After all, when the honeymoon's over, that's when the real marriage begins.

Me, Myself, and Kitty

2009-07-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

As I'm editing my book, there are a lot of tasks on my plate: smoothing plot, seeding suspicions. But one of the most important things I'm doing is crystallizing the character of my protagonist, Kitty.

It's a lot of work. When I started out I had a vague idea of who she was: sort of a template to get me started, to give me a name to put on the page. But as I worked my way through each of the scenes, I gained a much stronger knowledge of who she was and what she wanted. Now it's my job to make sure that all that I've learned is there from the start: that on page one, Kitty is the whole person I know her to be, complete with flaws, quirks, and everything.

The truth of it is, she's a lot like me.

Not in any of the actual details, the things I'd list if I was describing her. I'm not a mystery-solving farm girl in the big city. I'm no master manipulator. And I'm not (at least I hope I'm not) wildly self-involved.

No, Kitty isn't what I am at all. But underneath all those details, Kitty is very much who I am. Her turn of phrase, the way she looks at the world, the things she observes about other people: these are all me. Starkly, obviously me, to anyone who knows me well enough to see.

I used to think that this was lazy, that as a writer I was supposed to be able to craft characters from the ground up, to give them unique voices that had nothing to do with mine. Now I think that was just naive. The fact is, lending Kitty my voice, my outlook -- my me-ness -- layers a lot of reality upon the fictional skeleton of her character. It makes her feel solid to me, tangible, true.

It's strange but true: Kitty isn't me. But she is.

World Building 101

2009-07-11T09:15:00.001-04:00

Fantasy writers know what world building is. It's where you flesh out all the details of your story's strange milieu. How does magic work? What do they eat for breakfast in Upper Malefickia? And what is the name of those pirhanna-like fish you put in the river your heroes have to cross?

But my book is set in the 1920's. The real 1920's. No need for world building, right?

Wrong.

One of the most important parts of sci fi and fantasy world building is deciding on "the rules of the world." If you decide that wizards and witches generate their power by chowing down on the legs of spiders dipped in tabasco sauce... well, weird, but ok. It's a rule. You establish it early, and you're expected to stick to it for the remainder of the story.

In more reality-based genres, a lot of the technical rules have already been established (the sun rises in the east and sets in the west). But I still have to answer some metaphysical questions about the way my world operates. Such as:

Do bad things happen to good people?

And if so, how bad? Is my world one in which an innocent woman could be kidnapped? In which she could be raped and killed? In which a child could be raped and killed? Or is it a world in which, in general, if something awful happens to you, you deserved it?

Does true love conquer all?

Most romances would answer this question in the affirmative; so many that I'd say it's an underlying rule of the genre. For other genres, it's not always such a clear answer.

Does everyone get their just desserts?

Is justice a sort of force in my world, one which just can't be denied (no matter how much it seems like it can deep in the middle of Act II)? Or is justice only for a certain part of society, those that can afford it? What about injustice? Are there forms of it that are rampant, expected, part of the cost of living in this world?

What are the roles of various groups?

Are the cops generally the good guys or the bad guys? Are politicians crooked or honest? Are women independant or helpless? Are children innocent or cruel?

What is the role of accident and coincidence?

Is it acceptable to have the plot turn on an accident? Or is everything the result of carefully orchestrated events?

What kind of humor exists in my world?

Is it at all possible that my protagonist will slip on a banana peel? Can her character be wildly over the top? Or is my world a grittier, realer place where humor consists mostly of bitingly clever dialogue?

No matter how factual the setting, I have a lot of leeway to play with all of these things. And I have an obligation to keep all of them consistent. Otherwise, I'll get the same reaction as the fantasy writer who suddenly has her wizard draw power from eating butterfly legs dipped in ketchup:

WTF?

No One Cares Whodunit

2009-07-09T17:35:00.001-04:00

I recently finished reading Save the Cat, by Blake Snyder. (Loved it!)

Although it was chock full of useful info, the one piece of wisdom that really resonated with me was a single word: Whydunit.

That's the term the author uses for the mystery genre. When I read it, it was like one of those lightning bulb moments. Because, of course, duh! No one cares whodunit.

The most disappointing mysteries are the ones in which everyone has an obvious motive, and at the end of the book... well, it turns out one of them did it. For exactly the reason you thought they might. Boooo-rrrring!

Much more interesting are the ones in which the motive is obfuscated in some way, and comes clear just before the end. There are a ton of ways to do this... including the one I've chosen for my book, which I hope people will find interesting and surprising.

I wonder: are there other questions that can provide a really satisfying end to a mystery? Maybe "Howdunit," for a locked room mystery. Or "Howcatch'em," for a Columbo-style story, in which you know the guilty party from the start.

But I think it's the Why that really gets to the heart of mysteries... maybe to the heart of stories in general.

Guest Room Reads

2009-06-30T19:42:00.003-04:00

I love having house guests. Love it so much, in fact, that I am always trying to tweak the guest facilities. The last addition was a pen and stationary pad for the bedside table. And I'm currently considering adding a power strip.

Then there's the stack of books that sits beside the bed in the guest room. If I have time, I try to tweak this collection for each new guest, to offer something that appeals to their interests. For some people this is easy; for others... not. But here is a list of the criteria I use to arrange my guest room reads.

No more than five books.

Five is really the maximum number that a person can mentally sift through all at once. Try for more, and people will ignore them, because nothing jumps out as the One, the One Book They Want to Read.

Make sure no two books are very similar.

You can include two mysteries, as long as they're from very different sub-genres. Or two histories as long as they're of very different eras. But in general, each book you offer should stand on its own, as a sterling example of the best you could find of its type.

Include 1 or 2 "Bathroom Reads."

These are books that you can pick up, read for a while, and then put down with no sense of disappointment. Anything episodic is good. Some of my favorites are Miss Manners books, or Calvin & Hobbes collections.

Include some fiction and some nonfiction.

Fiction is the bulk of my library, but I know I can turn to authors like Bill Bryson or Malcolm Gladwell for good, widely appealing nonfiction. And of course, I have a staggering glut of books like this for any writer friends who come calling.

Those are my basic rules for organizing my guest room shelf. It's a fun task I get to do right before company arrives; after the sheets have been washed and the floors have been scoured, I get to comb through my library and try to pick out just the right things for my friends. Which leads me to my last rule:

Don't push it.

Nobody wants to be quizzed about their reading habits. Just select the books, and then shut up about it. If the stack was disturbed at the end of the visit, you'll know you've done a good job.

Oh.... of course!

2009-06-12T17:35:00.001-04:00

One of the smartest things I ever heard about writing is that the end of your story should be surprising and inevitable.

What's that? Surprising... and inevitable? Surely those are contradictory.

Well, sort of, yes. But you still have to do your best to hit them both. You're going for an "Oh... of course!" moment. The ending shocks the reader, but then very quickly they begin putting it together with little facts and suggestions you've seeded along the way. The nagging feelings they've had about the characters are suddenly justified. Scenes that previously didn't make a lot of sense now make plenty. Everything comes together.

It's a hard thing to accomplish, and something I greatly admire. So I made a quick scan of my bookshelves and here is a list of books that really hit that note for me. It's not long. If anyone else has some good ones, please post.

The DaVinci Code, Dan Brown
Speaker for the Dead, Orson Scott Card
Life of Pi, Yann Martel
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling
Lion in the Valley, Elizabeth Peters

I Do Like Their Cartoons, Though

2009-06-10T13:47:00.002-04:00

Just finished reading an article in the New Yorker, whose contention is that "writing can't be taught." And I have to laugh. Because of all of the great myths about writing, there's none I know to be so profoundly false.

I don't really understand why people go around saying something so patently stupid, unless it's to create a belief in a literary elite to which only the elect can aspire. I mean, think about it. No one would say "painting can't be taught."

Sure, they might contend that you can't make a master painter out of some guy off the street. But they would understand that you can take that guy and put a color wheel in front of him. You can teach him how to gauge perspective, how to identify a good paintbrush, and what the human anatomy looks like from different angles.

And if that guy was in fact not some random joe off the street, but a guy who came to you and said, "I like to paint. Please teach me how to paint better," well, then, he'd have a real shot, wouldn't he? Similarly, the people who enroll in a creative writing program are the ones who can benefit most from learning writing techniques.

Because of course there are techniques. There are techniques for dreaming up ideas, and there are techniques for transmitting those ideas effectively to paper, and there are techniques for engaging the reader's emotions while you do it. And anyone who claims that such techniques don't exist, frankly, isn't a pro.

I can't claim that writing programs are perfect; they're not. If I look back on the really valuable things I've learned, I find that most of them came from my own self-directed study, or from conversation with my fellow writers, or from analysis of movies and books. I've got big problems with the way writing is taught in major institutions, to tell you the truth.

But I absolutely can't abide the idea that "writing can't be taught." It speaks to an elitism and a mysticism that has nothing to do with the craft as I know it. And when people perpetuate this myth, it's a way of saying to new people in the field, "Give up. Don't bother. You're not that guy."

The way I see it, you can be any guy you want to be. It takes effort and practice (you better believe it!) but you can do it. Even if you have to teach yourself.

Got Issues?

2009-06-10T00:41:00.001-04:00

I think it was Grace Paley who said something like, "A story needs two stories. Not plot and subplot, but two stories that relate to each other."

When I'm planning something to write, I refer to these two stories as the Acute Issue and the Chronic Issue. Acute Issues are, well, acute: "Don't get eaten;" "Kill the monster;" "Stop the bomb before it hits zero." And Chronic Issues are more internal and long-lasting: "Stop feeling guilty;" "Find someone to love;" "Admit your mistakes."

I believe both issues are essential to a really good story. I think this is why everyone universally agrees that Terminator 2 is a better movie than its predecessor. Both had the same great Acute Issue: "Don't get blown to bits." But it's in the Chronic Issue where they really diverge.

Terminator has a love story as the Chronic Issue: it's fine and all, but we've seen it before. But T2 had a boy looking for a father figure he could trust. A great Chronic Issue, which was really well-developed in the script. And even though T2 is a thriller, even though its Acute Issue is what drew you into the theater, you just can't help but respond to the power of that Chronic Issue. And that makes T2 the winner hands down.

When you read thrillers that fail to include a good Chronic Issue, or literary novels that fail to include a good Acute Issue, you notice the lack. You may not know exactly what is missing, the way I wouldn't be able to tell you what's missing in mediocre music--but you know it's something.

I Know You!

2009-06-09T00:00:00.002-04:00

I wanted to expand a bit on my "Character is about constancy" statement from a few weeks back--mainly because it flies in the face of all conventional storytelling wisdom. My writing group is always talking about character change: "What changes for this character?" "Yes, but how is he changed by these events?" "I'm not seeing any change in this story." Change is the main rubric by which we figure out whether what we've read is a story, or just a bit of a ramble.

So I don't mean, exactly, that characters should never change. I just mean that they should remain knowable.

Your love for a character, I think, is built on those moments when the character behaves predictably. Spock gets into a verbal tussle with Dr. McCoy and makes a scathingly arch comment. And you smile, and shake your head, and think to yourself, "Oh, that Spock."

If the new Star Trek movie hadn't contained any "Oh, that Spock" moments, it wouldn't have been about Spock. It would have been about some other dude who happened to have Spock's name and biographical data.

Because, here's the deal: You can't love somebody without knowing them. The things you know about them don't have to be good things, they just have to be individual and predictable. We love Dr. House when he's rude. We love Mr. Monk when he's painfully awkward. And we love Remington Steele when he's lazy. (ok, maybe you don't--but I do!)

It's true in life, too. Think back to your favorite story about a loved one. Do you like to tell it because it's really all that funny, or heartwarming, or clever? Or do you just like it because it illustrates, to a T, who that person is?

You can't love someone without knowing them: ok, no big surprise. But here's the kicker: the reverse is true too. In most cases, you can't really know somebody without loving them, at least a little bit. The two are a sweet little package deal.

The Curse of Knowledge

2009-05-26T23:20:00.000-04:00

I used to love to read.

In grade school, reading was my preferred recess activity, far above four square, jumping rope, and doing flips on the jungle gym. By high school, I must have scaled up to a good four or five hours a day spent cracking open a book and just blissing out. I considered it more than a hobby; it was part of who I was.

But lately reading has become a rarer activity for me. And it's easy to figure out why.

I know too much.

I've spent years thinking about, talking about, and analyzing the craft of storytelling from every possible angle. I can recount well-thought-out opinions about plot, character, scene, and structure. About beginnings and middles and ends. I can illustrate with examples from television, movies, and books. And I can make you believe me, because frankly, I know what I'm talking about.

And when I pick up a book, even if it's just for fun, I can't shut off that knowledge. If a character is flat or a scene is emotionally blah, I can't help but notice. If the plot is a little hinky or predictable, I'll notice that too.

And I guess, overall, I'm glad. Because it means I've learned a lot. But it does make reading a lot less fun. These days I bliss out on one in ten books, or maybe one in twenty. The rest... well, I enjoy them, but always from a rather clinical perspective.

I'm reminded of a anecdote from the very funny book The Last Catholic in America. The young narrator decides to give up, for Lent, a habit dearer to him than life itself: thumb sucking. Oh, how he loves to suck his thumb! Yet for forty long days he resists temptation. At last Easter arrives, and he can indulge to his heart's delight.

But tragedy strikes. After a month of no thumb sucking, he discovers he simply doesn't like it anymore. I'll never forget the last line of that chapter:

By winning, I had lost.

8 Totally Random Things I Like, or Don't

2009-05-21T13:38:00.000-04:00

I don't like:

Drying off after showers
Pushing grocery buggies
Taking out my contacts
The smell of clams

I like:

Taking my socks off in bed
Buttering toast
Chopping veggies
The smell of garages

How about you?

The Buddy System Continues

2009-05-20T15:20:00.001-04:00

Well, the first two weeks of my Buddy Pact with Becky are over, and so far it seems to be a success. Neither Becky nor I have missed a deadline. Which is good, especially since she as a real-life deadline looming and I have a desperate desire to get my book in the mail. Three cheers all around.

But, frankly, it's been hell. There's been very little blogging for me over the past few weeks, because all my time was taken up with worrying, snacking, playing online games, asking Mark how I got myself into this mess--in short, procrastination.

Come the last few days of each week, I managed to kick myself into high gear and work from sun-up to sun-down to avoid losing my precious $50. Does anyone else have this problem: you're capable of Herculean effort, but for some reason not ordinary effort?

It's like, I have to keep reminding myself, "Hey, Jane, this is something you chose to do. It's not, like, something you have to get through. It's your life's work, for crying out loud!"

But everybody's life's work has parts that are pure joy and parts that are, well, pure work. I guess I'm in a pure work place right now.

Now, sending it off? That'll be pure joy.

OMG Star Trek OMG

2009-05-11T01:08:00.002-04:00

What can I say about the new Star Trek movie? I mean, what CAN I say about the new Star Trek movie? Because the last thing I would want to say is anything that might spoil it for anyone.

So I will simply try out a new maxim I've been floating around in my head for a while:

Story is about change. Character is about constancy.

Whoever wrote the new Star Trek movie Gets It. Which is why, despite any of its charming imperfections, we hard-core Trekkies love it.

Five Things My Mom Does Better Than Anybody Else

2009-05-11T00:48:00.002-04:00

Make lasanga
Plan birthday parties
Fix disasters
Scrapbook
Love me

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you!

Buddy Buddy

2009-05-03T17:40:00.000-04:00

Of all the things that are hard about being a writer, cultivating discipline is probably the hardest. I've been struggling with it for years, for what feels like my whole life. And I don't think I'm alone. Other people struggle with it too.

A couple of years back, when I was looking for a house, my Realtor mentioned the program she had developed to deal with her occasional lapses of discipline. She had a buddy system with another Realtor, and they would give one another weekly assignments. Her buddy might tell her that her job for the week was to get two new clients, or fix up her office, or catch up with her filing, or whatever. And if one of them failed to complete her assignment, she would pay a penalty.

"If she doesn't do her assignment, she has to pay me a hundred bucks," my Realtor explained. "And me... well, I'm also motivated by money. But in smaller amounts. So if I don't complete my assignment, I have to give her twenty bucks."

Hmm... ok. So, let's set aside for the moment the fact that my Realtor was obviously running quite the racket on her "buddy." It still seems like a good idea. And since I heard about it, I've been looking, casual-like, for a buddy of my very own.

And I've finally got one. I brought up the system to my friend Becky the other night, and she agreed to buddy up. She has a dissertation; I have a book. We both want to get done. We're designing our own assignments for the moment, since we don't know all that much about one another's processes, but I think that should be ok. And we have equitable penalties -- fifty bucks apiece.

So, it's on. Ten pages for her, three edited scenes for me: all by Sunday morning. I feel pretty confident about getting there because... uh, yeah, fifty bucks. Which means it may not be long until my book is packed into on envelope on its way to New York.

I Want to Sell My Soul to HBO

2009-04-30T16:33:00.000-04:00

I was in the bookstore yesterday and I noticed there was a new cover for Alexander McCall Smith's No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency. Book publishers like to update their covers every once in a while, to keep them looking fresh and modern and on code, so this wasn't exactly a big surprise. But as I leaned closer, I got one.

Emblazoned across the top were these words: "Now an HBO original series."

I tell ya, HBO is all about the cozies lately. Less than a year ago they released True Blood, based on Charlaine Harris' wildly popular Sookie Stackhouse mysteries. Now they've fallen in with the traditionally-built ladies of Botswana's first all-girl detective agency.

Next year? Who knows. But all I'm saying is, if a bright young writer were to come out with something awesome... well, the sky's the limit.

Make Mine Sushi

2009-04-29T00:12:00.000-04:00

Lately, I've had a real thing for sushi. I can't get enough of it. For dinner, for lunch... heck, I'd even eat the stuff for breakfast.

Problem is, you just can't get sushi cheap. So last Friday I got out my much-read-but-never-used sushi cookbook and decided to give it a whirl.

My sushi cookbook, I should mention, is entirely Japanese in character. It cares very much about aesthetics, technique, and Doing Things Right. As evidence, I submit the following quotes:

"Hold the rice ball up to the light. You should be able to see light filtering through it."
"The best way to grate wasabi is with a piece of sharkskin attached to a small wooden board."
"Thou must toast the nori for ten seconds, and the seconds of the toasting shall be ten. Thou shalt not toast eleven, nor shall thou toast nine (excepting that thou then procedest to ten). Twelve is right out."

I ignored most of this. Not because I don't appreciate the eternal Japanese pursuit of perfection (in fact, I dote on it), but because if I hadn't, the intimidation factor would have killed this project in the offing. I also had to pass on using actual raw fish, because I wasn't feeling ambitious enough to drive all the way to the Asian market across town, and I had this conversation with the girl behind the seafood counter at Kroger:

Me: Hi, I was interested in making sushi tonight. Do you have any tuna that's fresh enough for that?

Fishmongress: We have it, but it's frozen.

Me: (aside) I don't think you understood my question.

So, I was stuck with the following seafood:

smoked salmon
imitation crab
cooked shrimp

I also prepared the following roughage:

spinach
mushrooms
green onions
avocado
cucumber

And the following condiments:

homemade teriyaki sauce
soy sauce
pickled ginger
wasabi from a tube (my local Target was all out of sharkskin graters)

And, just to be original, a banana and some cream cheese. I assembled the ingredients, and then I rolled. And rolled and rolled. Overall, I was really happy with the results. The rice had a good texture, and the dressing seemed evenly distributed, though just a touch too vinegary. I definitely need to work on my rolling technique, which I plan to do next week with some real, legitimate fish. And next time, I might just toast my nori.

Cracking the Code

2009-04-23T18:10:00.000-04:00

Whether you realize it or not, you know the code. The code of packaging. It's the code that tells you that chips that come to you in a muted-color bag are healthier than those in a bright one. That Milano cookies are a perfectly respectable snack to serve to adults. That Target's generic shampoo is exactly like Head & Shoulders, only cheaper.

Tropicana recently had to abort their latest packaging redesign when their sales plummeted. The reason? They were off code. Looking at it now, I can't imagine what they were thinking.

Tell me that doesn't look like a generic store brand: low cost, low quality (at least in consumer perception). Tropicana didn't look like a premium brand anymore. And the sales reflected it.

The code, of course, isn't limited to the grocery store. It ranges far and wide, touching everything we shop for.

Like, say, books.

Walk into any section of the bookstore, and you'll find a wealth of cover styles, each designed to attract the fans of different sub-genres. Take, say, the mystery section. Cozies have bright colors, cartoonish pictures, and punny titles. Historicals have muted colors.Serial killer thrillers love red, black, shadows, and serious-looking fonts. And femjep tends to stick to a dusky, wistful palette. (That's "female-in-jeopardy", y'all.)

One shelf over, in Romance, we see the same kind of division.

And we'd see it in Sci-Fi, YA, Literature, and Self-Help as well. I imagine it must be a constant challenge for cover designers to turn out something that is both eye catching and on code.

Code is a double-edged sword. It attracts readers who are predisposed to like your work, but it also has a way of limiting you. That cozy cover, for example, says, "Hey, girls, lots of laughs!" but also, "Men, keep walking."

This is why you'll see some writers with really excellent word of mouth go around naked (code-wise, that is). They've already attracted a huge fan base; the best the cover artists can do is avoid turning anyone away. Janet Evanovich gets codeless covers. So does Sue Grafton, though that wasn't the case when I first read Grafton back in the 90's. (That frame and font, by the way, are 80's-90's code for cozy.)

All this isn't really something for me to worry about. I won't be designing my cover, and my input might be minimal. But I think it's an interesting look into the world of branding and marketing. So the next time you pick up a bag of chips, ask yourself:

"Are these really healthy, or do they just look like they are?"

Man, I Didn't Know the Economy was THAT Bad

2009-04-02T14:13:00.003-04:00

If you've ever been to Zaxby's chicken shack, you know what it is to get lousy customer service. Zaxby's is sort of the Anti-Chick-Fil-A; it is staffed almost entirely by stoned, sullen college students who evidently have a lot more important things to do than get me my food in a timely manner. But I keep going back, because the chicken is delish.

So you can imagine my surprise about four months ago when a Zaxby's employee greeted me with an expression that was not only alert, but also not unpleasant. Fast forward two months, and a drive-through clerk actually called me "ma'am."

"Maybe it's the economy," I theorized to Mark. "Workers are having a harder time getting jobs, so Zaxby's has a better pool of potential employees to pull from." In other words, people who previously wouldn't have touched a deep fryer with a ten-foot pole are having to lower their expectations, and Zaxby's is reaping the benefits.

But the real shocker came last night, when an older gentleman, obviously a new Zaxby's hire, took my order, told me it would be about five minutes, and then asked if I would like a glass of water while I waited.

Did you hear that? He offered me water. In a glass, no less. It was as if I had stumbled into the Mirror Universe from Star Trek, and was now standing in the Nega-Zaxby's. When I ventured forth, would I find that Chick-Fil-A had become apathetic, that Atlanta traffic was snarl-free, that I could get in and out of Wal-Mart in less than half an hour? Was my life about to be turned completley upside down?

No, as it turns out. Because at least they forgot the napkins. And I found myself relieved; there are still some things in life you can count on.

Three Things I Learned While Cleaning out the Fridge

2009-04-02T14:11:00.005-04:00

Pillsbury makes a pizza crust. Moreover, at some point, I bought one.
My refrigerator drawers come out a lot more easily than they go back in.
Yes, a jar of caramel ice cream topping can go bad. And the best way to test this is not with a spoon.

Media Blackout: The Wrap-Up

2009-03-25T21:23:00.003-04:00

My self-imposed Media Blackout is officially over. Overall, I'm really pleased with the results. Productivity went way up, and while I don't think this is all due to the Blackout, it was a factor. Some stats:

Important news stories I missed out on:

None that I can find. I knew about the new trillion $ spending package, because Mark told me. They do know there are numbers lower than a trillion, right?

Pissy little news stories I missed out on:

Octomom fires her kids' nurses
Yet more dishing about singer Rihanna and what she should do about her relationship with abuser Chris Brown (my vote: tune out the media completely and just take care of herself)

Times I cheated:

Several. Most of these were fairly innocent slips: Mark likes to watch Mad Money; I like to sit with Mark. I can't follow most of what Jim Cramer says anyway.

The worst offense was probably the first night, after I spent several hours on the web dealing with various government forms (it turns out my marriage license IS my marriage certificate). After that I really felt like I needed to float in the billowy warmth of the interwebs. So I loaded up the Freakonomics blog and just scanned through the post titles. I did not inhale!

Times I greeted Mark at the door with an irate comment about what Congress had been up to that day:

Zero.

Changes to Productivity:

Substantial, and all for the better. I'm not sure this can be attributed solely to the Blackout; I also acquired a lovely new car, which enabled me to get out the the library more often. And I got back to blocking out my schedule in a serious fashion, which also helped.

But the Blackout was a boon to my work life, I think. It increased productivity at least somewhat, especially in the morning, when I often spend a good bit of time surfing the web. And increased productivity leads to increased momentum, which creates mroe productivity... you get the picture. It was a good thing.

Changes to Mood:

Also substantial, and for the better. Part of that is attributable to... let's hear it again... increased productivity!

But I honestly believe that lowering my news quotient was good for my soul. I was spending an unpleasant amount of time angry, and that's just no good. This week was a great break from all that. It reminded me of the kind of person I want to be: Someone who values other people, whether or not they agree with me; someone who looks for the best in others and not the worst.

Going Forward:

I want to take something of this week with me, but I don't necessarily want to tune out entirely. So here's the plan. Some of my websties will become dailies: major news sites, friends' blogs, and Murderati are a few. I'll look at these once a day, after work. Everything else will become a weekly: I'll check them out on Friday and ignore them the rest of the week. And I think I'll do a regular Blackout: say, every three months.

I hope this will let me keep my hand in without getting totally absorbed in the big media machine. If nothing else, it should give me more time for writing!

A Loaf of Bread Cost What?

2009-03-18T20:46:00.002-04:00

Ever wondered how much your house would have cost in 1880? 1900? 1930? Now you can find out, with this handy dandy Inflation Calculator.

I only wish I had found this resource a year ago. I've been limping along by assuming the dollar was worth about ten times its current value in 1928; turns out I wasn't far off. But now that I'm in revision, it's nice to know I've got some real numbers to work with.

News Free Week

2009-03-17T10:41:00.002-04:00

My day begins in a fairly predictable way. Get up, feed the cats. Check e-mail. Check Facebook. Then dive into a few of my favorite news sites and spend the next hour there. Check back a few times during the day in case something interesting has happened. All in all, I probably spend at least a couple hours a day on news.

I started doing this during the run up to the election. It was interesting, and also a convenient form of procrastination that felt reasonably meaningful and useful. But I have to face a simple fact:

It's made me a less happy person.

It turns out I don't like knowing quite this much about what's going on in the world. A lot of what I read makes me angry, or apprehensive, or both. I don't mean to suggest that a tuned out life is a better life... but maybe, just maybe, I could give it a whirl.

So I'm taking a week-long break from the news. No CNN. No FoxNews. No news on TV. I'll also take the opportunity to cleanse my life of a lot of the other websites I waste time on everyday. No Cakewrecks. No Murderati. No Twitter. I'll continue to read actual friends' blogs, because there aren't that many of them and it really shouldn't take more than an hour a week. Also, 'cause I just can't go cold turkey.

I'm looking forward to this experiment. The ideal results would be an improved mood and increased production on my book. But frankly, I'd take either.

Well In-Formed

2009-03-13T14:00:00.003-04:00

When I was five I had my first surgery, to correct a bad case of lazy eye. In the waiting room beforehand, I badgered my mom constantly: "Could I die? People die in surgery, right? Is there any chance -- I mean any chance -- I could die?"

And my poor mom, finally at her wit's end, admitted that yes, there was the very slimmest of chances.

From that moment forward, the soundtrack inside my head was a steady dirge of farewells. Goodbye, mother. Goodbye, father. Goodbye, florescent ceiling fixtures. I hardly knew ye.

And so on and so forth until I woke up after surgery and discovered that (a) I wasn't dead, (b) I had no interest in the ice cream I had been promised, and (c) there was a frickin' NEEDLE in my ARM!

Fast forward to today, when I found myself at East Emory Hospital. Not for anything special, just a routine test my doctor wanted me to have. After I cooled my heels for twenty minutes or so in the waiting room, a receptionist asked me over to a desk.

"Do you have a living will?" she asked.

"Uh, no."

"I need you to initial here, here, here, and sign here."

I looked over the form she pushed across the desk, which basically stated that even though this was a routine procedure, I could die due to allergic reaction, infection, bleeding, equipment failure, supervillain attack, or maybe for no reason at all.

Not being quite the drama queen I was when I was five, I initialed, initialed, initialed, and signed with aplomb. But I had to wonder: at what point to informed consent forms become... uninformative?

Once again, I'll repeat that this was a routine test. No scalpels were involved. My biggest worry was whether I'd get done early enough to snag myself a Bacon, Egg, & Cheese McGriddle, not whether Mark had enough insurance to pay off my casket. Yet here I was, staring down a big long disclaimer list that said I could die.

If you're handed a big long disclaimer list that says you could die every time you walk into a hospital, don't you just start to consider them par for the course? Don't you stop reading them, and instead start judging the seriousness of your visit by other cues, like how solicitous the nurses are, or how many other people seem to be there for the same thing?

Don't the forms, at this point, just protect the hospital from lawsuit instead of actually protecting the patient from unanticipated risk?

And is there any way this system could be better?

I gotta think that the answer to the last question is "Yes." How to get there, I don't really know, but I suppose it starts with personal responsibility -- both for the medical professionals, and for the patient. Any way you slice it, I'm pretty sure of three things:

No one in that waiting room expected me to actually read that form.
A warning constantly repeated ceases to warn.
Every year, lawyers make our lives a little bit worse.

Nuts and Bolts

2009-03-12T15:17:00.000-04:00

Ok, gang, it's official: I are a corporation.

Setting up a corporation for yourself sounds fraught with complication, in the I-don't-even-want-to-deal-with-it-let's-just-forget-this-whole-thing kind of way. But once I started looking into it, it was really remarkably easy.

Step One: I searched for, and found, a good URL.

This is harder than it sounds. Every single word in the English language is already taken, and a lot of combinations, too. And you must, must, must have a domain that ends in .com. No good if your domeain is .net, .biz, or .mobi. (.mobi?) No one will ever remember it.

One good way to find a URL is to use a resource a friend turned me onto: Bustaname.com. You can put in a big ol' list of words, and it will tell you which combos are available. I myself landed on SimpleMystery.com.

Cost: $10

Step Two: I reserved a name with the Georgia Secretary of State.

Georgia lets you do this with an online form. They make you add Inc., Incorporated, LLC, or some such suffix, so I am officially Simple Mystery, Inc.

Cost: $25.

Step Three: I filed the corporation.

Another online form let me do this in about fifteen minutes. They didn't want anything special, just the company's address, my name, and the names of the company's CEO, CFO, and secretary (hint: they all start with a J).

I also had to declare the number of shares the company was authorized to issue. Mark said 10 million was a typical number, so that's what I put down. Georgia doesn't keep records of who the shares belong to; only the corporation does. So at some point I will need to just type up a letter issuing the shares to myself and stick it in the file.

Cost: $100

Step Four: I filed my annual registration.

Just another form saying yes, the company I just incorporated still exists, and yes, it is still in the same location. I will have to file this form once a year between January and March.

Cost: $30

Step Five: I published my intent to incorporate.

I live in Dekalb county, which means my legal organ is the Champion Newspaper. I paid them to publish the company's name, address, and registered agent (me) once a day for two weeks.

Cost: $40

Step Six: I applied for an EIN from the IRS.

An EIN, or Employer Identification Number, is necessary in order to file the corporation's federal taxes. Plus do other neat stuff like hire employees and get bank accounts. Once again, this was made easy with an online form, although said form is only available during certain times. Strange. But we are dealing with the federal government now.

Like the others, this form took just about fifteen minutes to fill out. The only minor hiccup was that it would accept no special characters in the name of the business, which means that Georgia thinks I'm operating as "Simple Mystery, Inc." and the IRS thinks I'm operating as "Simple Mystery Inc". This doesn't seem like the sort of thing that could possibly cause any confusion, but as I said, we are dealing with the feds. So, I am moderately concerned.

Cost: Free

Step Seven: I elected to have my company taxed as an S Corp.

I did this by filing IRS form 2553 and shipping it off the the good people at the Internal Revenue Service. Of all the forms, this was the most confusing, but only mildly so. It just wasn't entirely clear whether I was supposed to choose the calendar year as my tax year, or a fiscal year beginning on the date of my incorporation. I chose the calendar year because it seemed simpler.

This form needed to be filed within two months and fifteen days of the day I incorporated. Oddly enough, the long deadline makes it the easiest step to forget; most of the Georgia stuff needed to happen in one fell swoop.

Cost: Free

Total Cost of Incorporation: $205

So there, in a nutshell, you have the beginnings of my journey into the wonderful world of incorporated business. It was fairly easy, and reasonably cheap. I've got no guarantee of making that money back through tax incentives, but it's possible. And either way, owning my own company is a thrilling feeling. It's like I'm a grown up or something.

Pineapple Stir Fry

2009-03-07T20:10:00.001-05:00

I've been meaning to post this recipe for a couple of weeks now, ever since my friend Becky asked for it. It's my go-to stir fry: easy, flexible, and (I think) delish. The critical elements are the pineapple, soy sauce, and cornstarch; everything else can be adjusted to suit your family's taste.

Ingredients:

1 pepper
1 onion
1 box mushrooms
2 carrots
2 20 oz. cans pineapple chunks
2-4 3.5 oz. packages of crab (depends on taste)
1 heaping spoonful constarch
soy sauce to taste (I use a lot)
family size pack saffron rice

Directions:

Make rice and set aside.
Chop vegetables into large chunks, season liberally with soy sauce, and saute. You want to start with the harder veggies, like carrots, and give them a bit of a head start. Cook until the onions are translucent.
Drain pineapple and reserve juice.
Mix heaping spoonful of cornstarch into juice.
Add pineapple chunks and juice mixture. Season with more soy sauce. Cook until liquid reduces into a sauce.
Stir in crab and serve over saffron rice. Ta-da!

This recipe serves about 4-5 adults, and is ready in about 20 minutes.

The Truth About Working at Home

2009-03-02T14:01:00.001-05:00

For many people, especially creative types, working at home is the holy grail. No stress! Flexible hours! Comfy p.j.'s!

And it is, indeed, fantastic. But lest the picture seem overly rosy, I offer you a few sobering facts:

1. You will find yourself wearing the same shirt for two or three days in a row.

It may not even be your own. Last week I spent a couple of days tooling around in a gray t-shirt that perpetually resides in the bottom of Mark's sportswear drawer because the long sleeves make him hot. Why did we buy that stupid thing?

2. You will eat more than you intend to.

The food hits you with a one-two punch: Opportunity (it's all right there) and Motive (preparing, consuming, and cleaning up food is an excellent form of procrastination).

3. You will become your family's primary errand-runner.

It's not that your spouse doesn't respect your work; it's just that you are the person who can most easily take time away from it. So if the cat needs to go to the vet, nine times out of ten, it's on you.

4. You will miss the benefits of a tyrannical boss.

My friend Jon has an idea for a business: writers would pay him to set their deadlines, review their work, and occasionally call them up and say "I'm really very disappointed. I don't know if we can keep you on."

I'm not sure how effective this would be, but I know that the lack of negative incentives sometimes bites me in the butt. I am altogether too understanding of my own failures. Funny how when I was working in the Real World they just... never... happened.

All these things aside, working at home is great. I would trade it for exactly nothing. I feel blessed beyond measure to have a husband who believes in me enough to support me while I turn out my first book.

But apparently I need some more t-shirts of my own.

Jane's Guide to the Male Psyche

2009-02-22T18:57:00.000-05:00

Not too long ago A&E decided to run a Sylvester Stallone marathon over the weekend. Mark and I happened to turn it on during Rocky II, and since neither of us had seen it and both of us had work we were trying to avoid, we went ahead and watched.

And as we did, I realized just how much I'd come to understand the masculine mind.

The plot centers on a fight between Rocky and Apollo Creed, the Heavyweight Champion of the World. Rocky knows the fight will bring in a lot of money for his struggling family, but he's doubting his ability to beat the champ -- doubting his ability to even stand toe to toe with him and walk away intact. He explains this to his wife, Adrian, and she says, and I quote,

"You have nothing to prove."

Brutal! Adrian, baby. Tell me you didn't just say that.

Now, before my marriage I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have heard that line as such a slap in the face. But living with a dude for six years seems to have had more of an effect on me than I realized. For those of you who don't speak Man, allow me to translate that exchange into Woman for you.

Rocky: Do these jeans make my butt look fat?
Adrian: I love you just the way you are.

Brutal! Do you notice how Adrian did not tell Rocky that his butt didn't look fat? How she skirted the whole issue at hand with that namby-pamby "I love you" crap? Why would she do a thing like that? Did she honestly think Rocky wouldn't notice?

The only possible response when your wife says "Do these jeans make my butt look fat?" is "Hell, no!" And the only possible response when your husband asks you "Do you believe I can do this?" is "Hell, yes!"

Because just like we chicks want our men to view us as supermodels, guys want their women to view them as Superman. This isn't always easy, especially if the thing your man wants to do is something you'd really prefer he didn't. This is Adrian's problem; she'd much rather Rocky get a nice, simple job that doesn't involve being repeatedly punched in the face.

Which of course is what happens in the final fight. And this, Mark explained to me, is why boxing is a representation of the essential male struggle. It's not about delivering the beatdown; it's about taking the beating. And then finding the faith in yourself you need to get up again. That's Rocky's final victory: not over the champ, but over his own self-doubt.

What strange, beautiful creatures these men are! I think they may be worthy of further study.

Baby Needs a New Car

2009-02-08T18:02:00.001-05:00

So, it's official. The insurance company totaled my Beetle.

The Beetle was a good car, and I'm sorry to see it go. But it wasn't perfect. It was a bit too small in the back for passengers. Two doors aren't as convenient as four. And it was seriously behind in cupholder technology.

So instead of heading right back over to Volkswagon, I'm shopping for a new car. I've long been annoyed by the lack of feminine cars on the market. Everything always looks so generic, and every car seems to be available in just red, blue, dark blue, black, silver, and white. Why not jade green? Champagne? Pink, or maybe even purple?

Just like I don't want a big, shapeless black purse, I don't want a car that's totally lacking in style or femininity. I want a girl's car.

As with a diamond, I'm interested in the four C's. Not color, clarity, carat, and cut. But these:

Cuteness
Color
Cupholders
Carseats

(The carseats are for my as-yet-nonexistant children. Specifically, I'm looking for a car that can hold at least two of them.)

The first one I tried out was a Toyota Yaris. From the cutesy name, the bubbly body, and the whimsical commercials, I had concluded that the Yaris was a car designed specifically to appeal to women. About time.

The trouble is, it's a car made for women, designed by men. I can pretty much tell you how it all went down:

Toyota Engineer A: What do women like anyway?
Toyota Engineer B: I dunno. Buncha stupid boxes that are too small to hold anything.

And thus the Yaris was born.

There are about fifty million secret little cubbyholes scattered across the dashboard. Ok, seriously, there's about seven. And while I can stash my sunglasses in one and a hairbrush in another, at some point I run out of little things to stash. Hey, Toyota: How about a drawer under the back seat big enough to fit a blanket? That's a cubby hole I'd love to have in a car.

The Yaris just felt all... stupid inside. The silly little cubbies weren't exactly a problem, but I felt they kind of indicated a lack of effort on the part of the designers. Like they just came up with a single idea and ran it through production without ever bothering to polish it, or even ask themselves if it was a good idea. Another area where this was evident was the speedometer, which was located above the center of the dashboard rather than on the driver's side so it would be "easier for me to see."

So we left Toyota, to the great despair of the salesmen who badly wanted to make a sale. And headed over to Honda.

Getting a look at the Honda Fit after driving a Yaris was like picking up an I-Phone after spending all afternoon dealing with Windows Vista. Like an I-Phone, the Fit just had an aura of pride in workmanship and attention to detail. Despite being little and cute, it will carry plenty of cargo -- you could even stow some blankets under those rear seats! And it's definitely a woman's car -- heck, it comes in purple!

So I think I've found my car. I'm skipping the purple in favor of a very bright, flirty blue, but I feel good about the fact that I'm buying a car that must have been made with women in mind. Whenever I see a new prodcut I think is a really great idea, I like to buy it if I can -- that way the manufacturers know they're doing something right, and if you're really lucky eventually the rest of the industry catches on.

New Scenes

2009-02-05T16:15:00.000-05:00

As revealed in my last post, I am adding ten new scenes to my book during the revision process. They are:

1. Kitty Meets Fiore
2. The Magic Playhouse
3. Nino Says No
4. Aunt G, Kidnapper at Large
5. Big Boss Man
6. Lawyer Up
7. Getting an Earful
8. Gladys Takes a Licking
9, All Molled Up

and last, but definitely not least:

10. Cold Date

Good News, Bad News

2009-02-05T15:53:00.000-05:00

Good News: I've finished my Comprehensive List of Revisions to Make.

Bad News: It's long.

Good News: I am adding ten scenes and eliminating four. The extra six should easily make up the additional five thousand words I want to add to the book's length.

Bad News: I have to write them.

Good News: There is now nothing to do but just sit down and write.

Bad News: There is now nothing to do but just sit down and write.

Character of the Day

2009-02-05T12:45:00.001-05:00

It's time for another character from the Deck of Many Things.

Virtue: Crafty

Flaw: Insipid

Dude, what is the deal here? Last time I pulled Skilled/Incompetent? And this time it's Crafty/Insipid?

Not to be deterred, I soldier on.

Jamie Lynn Jameson

Sixteen-year-old blonde bombshell and pageant queen. Loves kittens, curling irons, and unicorn stickers. Extremely good at manipulating pageant politics to the detriment of other contestants.

Major Mannerism: Keeping the pageant world spinning with intrigue. Although Jamie Lynn does not appear to be a particularly influential member of this social circle, she uses small comments and subtle hints to manipulate all the friendships and alliances of the other pageant participants. She has currently divided them into two major camps, and while they expend their efforts on trying to sabotage one another, she is able to soar to victory unnoticed.

Manifesto Monday: Mistakes

2009-02-02T12:23:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday I was on the way to the bookstore to score some new reading material for the weekend. I never got there.

Right after I pulled onto the highway, the car started shuddering. Bad. Ok, I thought, you just have to make it to the next exit. Then you can call Mark to come get you and everything will be all right.

Except it didn't turn out like that. Instead my tire went out, forcing the car to spin across two lanes of traffic. I bounced off the median a couple of times and came to a rest with half the car on the shoulder and half in the left-most lane.

And I was fine. Just fine. Not a scrape, not a bruise. The car is toast, but apart from that the only consequence is this lingering feeling I have that I did something terribly, terribly wrong.

So here's today's Manifesto Monday: Three Things I Believe about Mistakes.

1. I believe I was morally responsible for that accident.

I wasn't being malicious, but I did make a very bad judgment call. I should have pulled over right away, or at least put on my flashers and slowed way down. Failing to do so was a big deal; there were other people on the road, and I could have hurt them.

I could write it off by saying "I didn't mean for that to happen." Or I can go ahead and take responsibility from it and learn from it. To me, that seems like the right thing to do.

2. I believe that initial remorse is important, but lingering guilt is a Very Bad Thing.

You should feel bad when you cause harm or nearly do so -- but not forever. Long-lasting guilt seems to me like it's often more about hurting yourself than actually "getting right" with the world. And no matter how badly you've screwed up, hurting yourself is just not good because:

3. I believe that redemption doesn't come through punishment, nor through doing good to compensate for the wrong you've done. I believe redemption comes from learning to be a better person.

I'm pretty sure this belief of mine is rather uncommon, but to me it just feels... right. Punishment as a path to redemption feels kinda pointless to me; it doesn't add anything good to the world. And compensating for your mistakes is sometimes impossible.

But learning to be a better person is never beyond your reach. I don't want to imply that it's an easy thing to do in all cases, but it's always possible.

So that's Manifesto Monday for today. Oh, yeah, one more thing:

4. I believe I need a new car.

My Top Villains

2009-01-27T13:01:00.001-05:00

I do so love a good villain. Who doesn't? In some stories, they're more captivating than the hero. But how do you go about making a villain great?

I was recently reading a post on Murderati that suggested I begin by just listing my favorite villains, then looking to see what they had in common. Here goes:

(FYI: Spoilers for various media ahead)

1. Hannibal Lecter, Silence of the Lambs

My A-1 fave. There are so many things about Hannibal that draw me in: his utter depravity (dude, he eats people!), his paradoxical refinement (a bottle of Chianti indeed!), that creepy little voice (thanks for the nightmares, Anthony Hopkins).

But I think what captivates me most about Hannibal are the illusions he creates. You could almost believe he wants to help you. No matter how many times he fucks with you, you could almost believe he's going to play this one straight.

It's the refinement, I think. The articulate speech. The manners. It contrasts so beautifully with his inner viciousness that it almost completely disguises it.

2. Javert, Les Miserables

Javert is an odd duck, because he's exactly the opposite of what most fiction texts will tell you to make your characters. Well-rounded he ain't.

Javert's got exactly one thing going, his steadfast belief in the law. He's sort of the single-minded, Terminator-style villain, coming after Jean Valjean no matter how hard it is or how long it takes. But it's the end of his story that, for me, elevates him from your basic, garden-variety villain.

For me, the moment where Javert chooses he would rather die than live as a changed man is always exquisitely painful, yet thrilling. It mixes redemption (he lets Valjean go!) with the inability to change (he throws himself into the Seine). Two grippingly powerful personal events melded seamlessly and believably. If I could write a scene like that someday, I'd be happy.

3. Mrs. Iselin, The Manchurian Candidate

You want depravity, this woman has it in spades. What sort of mother could be so utterly devoid of human feeling that she could use her own son as a killing machine?

Mrs. Iselin is a great villain because she's so inhuman and creepy, but paradoxically she's also great because she's so believable. She's built on a real archetype: the power-grubbing politician's wife. With a few big twists that make her completely diabolical.

4. Gollum, the Lord of the Rings trilogy

It's the tragedy of this character that draws me in. The split-personality archetype is always fascinating for its sheer weirdness and spookiness, and the way it was done in the recent movie trilogy was absolutely amazing.

One Gollum plots death and destruction for our heroes, and when he speaks even his voice is twisted with hate. The other Gollum wants to be good and true, and what we hear in his voice is fear.

It's just gripping, chilling, and horrible, and it's a way of taking a real struggle we can all identify with -- the struggle to be a good person -- and amping it up to the Nth level. There's something to connect to there.

5. The Borg, Star Trek

Here we've got a villain that's inhuman in the extreme. Aside from their great strength and adaptability, what makes them epically chilling is that they simply don't acknowledge the sanctity of human life or rights. They just don't get it.

In this way, they're kind of a stand-in for the very worst humanity can be when we come together in force and decide to steamroll over someone else's rights. Naziism, genocide, the slave trade: these are the actions of a Borg-like people. The Borg are us without empathy. Now that's creepy.

6. Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

What makes Angel a great villain for me is his sadism. Sure, Angel can kill you, but given the choice, he'd much rather hurt you.

And he knows how to do it up right. Angel is an emotional sadist, using guilt, grief, fear, and humiliation to get at his victims. So much more effective than a physical sadist, and certainly a lot more fun to watch.

Combine this with his always-amused attitude, which shows contempt for his victims, and you've got a villain I can watch for hours. I mean, just look at that smirk.

7. Adaleen Grant, Big Love

There's something almost worse about serving a devil than being one, right? Something kind of broken and amoral about blithely following someone else's dark path?

That's what Adaleen does as first wife to Big Love's major antagonist, Roman Grant. I think what makes her captivating to me is the serene, breezy smile that's always fixed on her face no matter how badly she's screwing you over.

Adaleen also serves as a model for a particularly loathsome archetype: the collaborator. She's a woman who participates in the subjugation of other women, managing her husband's fourteen-wife household, including 15-year-old child bride Rhonda Volmer. Adaleen was born into this life, so in a way she can be considered a victim of her circumstances -- but her cool intelligence and lack of empathy swing her decidedly toward the villainous.

8. The Miniature Killer, CSI

Ok, I have to admit: this one kind of fell apart for me at the end of the storyline, where the killer's backstory is revealed. There was nothing about it that really made me say, "Oh, yeah, this is totally the kind of chick who would make meticulous models of people's homes, then kill them."

But I can't ignore that feeling of excitement I got every time I knew a miniature killer episode was coming on. And I think what it was was the fabulous MO. Miniatures! Really specific ones! Cuh-reepy!

It just suggested such precision and patience. How could you possibly best a villain who brought that much forethought to bear? This is a great example of a villain who managed to be a real, chilling character before ever appearing in person.

So, what's the common thread?

Well, looking over the list, it seems I like my villains on the monstrous side. Apart from Adaleen Grant and maybe Javert, there's no one here with simple, understandable flaws. My tastes tend much more toward the boogity-boogity.

I also like a bit o' philosphy with my villains. I like characters like Gollum and the Borg and Adaleen who make me think about the big things: "How do you stop your baser nature from taking over?"; "How can you come to terms with someone who doesn't agree with you about what's right and wrong?"; "In a bad situation, what will people become in order to survive?"

And I like big contrasts: Hanibal Lecter's brutality and sophistication, Gollum's patheticness and scheming, Mrs. Iselin's charming public persona and cold-blooded heart.

It was an interesting exercise, and one I'm glad I did. Anyone else have any favorite villains?

Honestly

2009-01-26T12:31:00.000-05:00

Maybe I'm a little young to be saying this, but sometimes I just don't know what this world is coming to.

1) Several teenagers are charged with child pornography for sending nude photos by cell phone.

2) Seattle parents are shocked to learn there is no law prohibiting a teacher from having consensual sex with an 18-year-old student.

3) 13-year-old boys are charged with sexual harassment for slapping girls' butts.

Is it just me, or have we forgotten that there are ways of dealing with bad behavior other than the law?

Here are my prescriptions for the cases in question:

1) The kids who were "sexting" need to lose their cell phones, get grounded, and listen to a firm lecture about respect for their own sexuality.

2) The man who was having sex with an 18-year-old student needs to be fired, blackballed from the teaching profession, and ostracized by his community.

3) And the boys who were slapping girls' butts need to be told "Wipe that grin off your face," and suspended for a week or so.

There. Done. Was that so hard?

I guess there are two things that bug me here: in the cases with child offenders, I'm appalled (and in fact frightened) that we are calling in the law to deal with what is plain and simple social misbehavior. In the case of the cradle-robbing teacher, I'm amazed that people don't seem to understand that legal behavior can still be bad behavior, and can carry very real and very serious consequences.

It's as though we've decided to throw up our hands and take no part in managing the conduct of our own community. When someone does something we don't like, we just call in the law and ask them to take care of it.

But the law is bad at this sort of stuff, gang. It's good at separating us from those whose deeds truly place them outside decent society: the rapists, the murderers, the armed robbers. But it's bad at punishing those who make socially unacceptable decisions. And it's absolutely rotten at punishing kids.

So we need to roll up our sleeves and fall back on some other tools for modulating behavior: social censure, and public discussion of morality.

People often say it takes a village to raise a child. But I believe it also takes a village to safeguard that child into adulthood, and to maintain his world as one in which he can be proud to raise his own children.

The Deck of Many Things

2009-01-21T21:33:00.000-05:00

A while ago I talked about my method for creating characters: (1) Choose two Defining Characteristics, (2) Select a Major Mannerism that exemplifies both of them, and (3) Some other stuff.

I don't have a pressing need for any new characters right now, but one likes to keep one's hand in. Which is why I've created the Deck of Many Things.

The Deck of Many Things is basically six or seven 50 cent poker decks, with a different character trait written on the face of each car. Things like "Childish," "Optimistic," and "Brave." Qualities that are positive or neutral are written on red-backed cards, and the blue-backed cards have flaws.

Then all I have to do for a little character-creation drill is just flip over two cards, one from each deck. Let's try it now, shall we?

From the Flaw Deck: Incompetent

And From the Virtue Deck: Skilled

Are you kidding me? Incompetent and Skilled? Is that really what I just pulled?

Ok, well, maybe I can work with this.

Mrs. Noah Pembleton

A monied old widow living in New York around 1920. Kind, fat, and cheery. Has been taken care of all her life, either by her parents, her husband, or her servants. Known to her long-suffering niece Carol as "Aunt Wilhelmina."

Generally incompetent in all things, including, but not limited to: driving, paying bills, household management, and fashion.

Skilled in exactly one area: matchmaking.

Major Mannerism: Throwing wonderful, overblown parties at which everything goes wrong with sitcom-esque wackiness. Exactly one thing goes right: the two protegees for whom she has thrown the party always wind up falling in love. The rest of the mess must be straightened out by dear Carol.

Hmm... have I been watching too much Jeeves and Wooster?

C Corps and S Corps and LLCs, oh my!

2009-01-19T18:31:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I blogged about my decision to form a company and some of the benefits involved. Now it's time for me to look at what type of company to form.

For advice on this I looked to the Small Business Kit for Dummies.

It went over the basics, but just the basics. To really find out anything of interest, I had to crawl deep into the web.

First Up: Sole Proprietorships

This is the easiest type of business to form. Basically, you just file a DBA, a document stating that "Jane Kalmes is Doing Business As (Company Name)." And that's it. Filing your taxes as a sole proprietor is easy, which may mean savings in the form of low (or no) CPA bills.

The trouble is, most of the benefits sole proprietorships offer don't apply to me. Sole proprietors can hire their kids without paying payroll taxes--but I don't have any to hire. They can also cover their spouse with an HRA, a Healthcare Reimbursement Arrangement, provided their spouse is an employee and this benefit is also extended to any other employees. This can be a significant benefit, because it means they can deduct legitimate healthcare expenses twice: once from income taxes, and once from self employment taxes. But I don't plan to employ Mark, and we get our healthcare coverage through him anyway.

So it looks like a sole proprietorship isn't for me. Onward, then.

Next up: C corporations

These get the most tax breaks, but they're not a great choice for a small businessman because their income gets taxed twice: once at the corporate level, and once after the profits have passed through to the shareholders. Unless you can hold a lot of income in your corporation (and I won't pretend I'm savvy enough to even know how to begin), a C corporation is not the right vehicle for you.

Then we have: S Corporations

Now we're talking. S Corporations use pass through taxation, meaning that the shareholders are taxed on the income they receive, but the revenue isn't also taxed at the corporate level. Sounds more promising. S Corporations are still very complicated to form, though. There's a lot of paperwork involved. Maybe I should hunt around for something simpler?

Last Up: LLCs

Limited Liability Companies, or LLCs, are the easiest company to form that affords limited liability. They're flexible. They don't require meeting minutes and stock certificates the way corporations do, and they have pass-through taxation. Sounds like a winner.

Here's The Rub...

S Corps have one huge advantage over LLCs, though. The owner of an LLC has to declare all the company's revenue as income, which means that she pays self-employment taxes on it. Self-employment taxes combine Social Security and Medicare. You'll pay more for Social Security than you would if you were employed, but you won't have to pay FICA, so it comes up about the same: 15.4%.

In contrast, the owner of an S Corp can pay herself a "reasonable salary," and pay self-employment taxes on only that salary. Then she can allow the rest of the corporation's revenue to pass through to her as stock dividends, thus avoiding the 15.4% tax. The salary really does have to be reasonable, though; if the IRS suspects that your $1 salary doesn't meet industry standards, they'll reclassify your distributions as salary, tax them, and then penalize you for making them go to the trouble.

So, in a nutshell, this is how a corporation saves you money. If you're making more than a reasonable salary for your industry, you can save 15.4% of that excess.

Sounds good to me. S Corp, here I come!

To Be or Not To Be... A Legal Entity

2009-01-19T17:51:00.000-05:00

The book's nearly out the door, which means there are visions of agents and editors dancing in my head. And dollar signs. Big dollar signs.

So I've been doing a lot of research into the question of whether or not to incorporate my writing business. I still haven't made up my mind yet, because it's a complicated question, peppered with lots of incomprehensible little phrases like "2.7% SUTA on first $8500, until adjusted."

Basically, it boils down to this: if I make a lot of money (and, hey, I plan to, right?), forming a corporation can help me bring home more of that bacon. If I don't (and most writers don't), the initial investment in filing fees and assorted minutiae will be essentially wasted.

So, take the plunge or stay on dry land? Still waffling, but here are some of the issues at hand:

Limited Liability

This is one of the major reasons most people form corporations, to protect their personal assets from any lawsuit against their business.

Sadly, for a writer of fiction, this limited liability is largely illusory. It wouldn't protect me from being sued for my own wrongful acts, which means if someone came after me with a plagiarism suit (and I hope it goes without saying that such a suit would be pure nonsense), the corporation wouldn't help. They could attack me, and my personal assets, directly.

It would make sense, though, if I were going to be writing a lot of technical manuals for companies whose legal squeaky cleanness I didn't want to be responsible for. Or if I planned to hire lots of employees, such as a secretaries or research assistants. My limited liability would prevent me from being personally sued for any of their wrongdoings while working under the umbrella of my corporation.

Tax Savings

This is the real meat of the question: will I get taxed more or less if I incorporate?

The short answer is, it depends. There are several types of companies I can form, and they each have their own pluses and minuses with regards to the tax code. How much I can save (or, if I bungle things up, lose) is largely dependent on whether I choose to form a C Corporation, an S Corporation, or an LLC, all of which I'll explain in more detail in my next post.

It's also dependent on how much I make. For a writer, this is a pretty hard number to figure in advance, but it'll have deep implications on my bottom line. If I'm not going to make a significant income, I'll be better off not incorporating. (I'm thinking the threshold might be as low as $40K, though some articles I've seen online put it much higher.)

Odds and Ends

How much are filing fees? Do I have to carry worker's compensation insurance? What weird little addenda in the tax code apply to me?

This is the place where the question of whether or not to incorporate begins to get rather sticky and burdensome. Where it seems like it'd be easier to just throw up my hands and take a tax hit if that's what I have to do. This is a hard part to push through, which leads into our next area of interest:

Effort

It's work, a lot of work, getting all this information together and acting on it. Worse, if I screw up some little detail there may be serious legal or financial penalties. Still sound like a fun challenge?

The bright side, in a weird way, is that some of this work is unavoidable. A self-employed person is going to have to dig into the tax code and file quarterly returns anyway. So I might as well just go the extra mile and incorporate if it's going to save me some cash.

And those, in a nutshell, are the issues I've been wrestling with over the past weekend. It's daunting, but a little fun, too, and a welcome break from worrying whether my book will ever be the masterpiece I envisioned before the whole mess was down on paper. Tomorrow I'll discuss types of companies, and tell you which one I've decided (tentatively) to form.

The Birth of Manifesto Monday

2009-01-18T22:11:00.000-05:00

The other day I was talking with my friend Becky about this blog. "I keep meaning to recommit to it," I said. "But I keep failing to do so."

"If you're going to recommit to it, you should find a way to make it really work for you," she replied.

Wise words. So herewith we begin a series of posts trying to find a real character for this blog, one that will keep me interested enough to keep coming back to it--and hopefully be interesting for readers as well.

This first attempt is Manifesto Monday: a weekly post about The World According to Jane. Since this is supposed to be a writing blog, we'll start out with:

Manifesto Monday: Five Things I Believe About Writing

1. I believe you CAN teach someone to write.

What you can't teach someone is how to be interested enough in writing to really go the distance. But you can definitely teach someone to write. Writing is a real profession, with a real skill set that requires study and practice. Talent is nice, but it ain't everything.

2. I believe plot is more important than prose.

Sorry, lit fic gang! It's what I believe. I can be happy reading a crappily-written thriller, but there's no chance I'm going to stick it out to the end of a beautifully lyrical novel in which I never worry that the characters are up against forces beyond their ability to surmount.

Prose matters. It does. Read some Alice Munro if you don't believe me. But also remember, it's not all there is.

3. I believe it's not THAT hard to get published.

People say "It's really hard to get published," and what they mean is this: "It's unlikely you'll be published."

Bull, I say. If you are persistent, if you are hardworking, and if you are good (and let's face it, you know if you are), you will make it. Yes, a lot more people try to become writers than actually do it. That doesn't mean it's a lottery. The people who deserve to get there? They get there.

4. I believe the success of my work is in my own hands.

Just like I believe that good writers get published, I believe that great books sell. Sure, I've read a few stinkers that were bestsellers, but here's the kicker: I have very rarely read the opposite: a beautiful, wonderful, I-will-treasure-it-always book that never really got anywhere commercially. The few exceptions to this rule were at least big successes within the literary/academic community.

That means that the best thing I can do for my success is not buy ad space in Ellery Queen, not throw together a slick website, not acquire a list of bookclubs to e-mail about my book. It's write. Write well. Write something kickass and get it out there. And write something even better to follow it up.

5. I believe writing, even "non-serious" writing, can do good in the world.

I guess that's what I have to believe, because writing is what I've dedicated my life to. And I need to believe that my being here has a chance of making the world a better place.

But deep down, I just really think it's true. I think in order to have compassion for one another, humans need to be able to imagine one another's internal lives. And reading gets us there, often more easily and completely than our own efforts to cultivate empathy toward others.

Plus, writing gives me a pulpit of sorts, and I plan to use it. So when my protagonist, Kitty, talks about what it means to really love someone else, or how guilt can cripple you, or how you need a place in the world where you feel you belong--that's me, gang. That's what I've got to give.

Revision Plan

2009-01-18T19:37:00.000-05:00

Well, the book is done, but there's done and there's DONE. Right now we're sitting at Stage #1 Done, where all the scenes have been written but there are a few things that don't add up, a few characters that could be stronger, and a few major plot points I sorta forgot to mention in my mad rush to the finish line.

So I've taken a nice long break from active work, just reading my manuscript and making plans. And I'm finally ready with my Comprehensive Revision Plan.

Step #1: Read the book and make a list of all issues.
Status: 100 % Done
Notes: I thought there would be about 10 of these. Turns out there were 32.

Step #2: Figure out what to do about each issue.
Status: 70% Done
Notes: There are about six sticky issues remaining, and if I can figure those out, I'll be golden. Mark has promised to help me, which is good, 'cause some of them have me in conniptions.

Step #3: Re-read Scenes 1-10. Revise them.
Status: 0% Done
Notes: It's really important to keep reading the book in long sections, rather than just a scene at a time. You realize so much about characters that are inconsistent, issues that seem to fluctuate in importance to the protagonist, and other things that will be confusing to a reader.

Step #4-6: Repeat for scenes 11-20, 21-30, and 31-38.
Status: 0% Done
Notes: I suspect by the end there may be more like 42-45 scenes, as there are a few bits I want to add. In that case, this step may go on a bit longer than I plan (I'm currently hoping to get through 4 scenes per day).

Step #7: Polish tension
Status: 0% Done
Notes: I plan to look at each page and make sure that there's something tense happening on it. And if there's not, put it there. And if it's there, heighten it.

Step #8: Polish prose
Status: 0% Done
Notes: The last step, just about making it all sounds pretty. And clever. And, when appropriate, funny.

So there you have it, Jane's plan for novel revision. I'm hoping to turn this thing around pretty quickly and get it in the mail. I'm ready to have it working for me, instead of the other way around!

In Which I Leave my Life's Work at Barnes & Noble

2009-01-18T16:20:00.000-05:00

The other night Mark and I went over to Barnes & Noble so he could indulge his new bridge fetish by browsing through the Games section. We both brought our laptops along so we could hang out and be trendy in the cafe for a while. But it turned out I was more interested in browsing than working, so I set mine aside.

I spent a couple of hours looking through Law in Plain English for Writers (not terrible, but not as detailed as I wanted it to be regarding tax liability), Can't Fail Color Schemes (I got this one), and The Devious Book for Cats (Hee hee hee! Kitty cats!). Finally Mark had made his selection, and we left.

Without my laptop.

It wasn't until after a delectable dinner at Ru San's sushi bar that we pulled into the driveway and I realized that I had left my laptop at the bookstore. I called them up and told the guy who answered the phone where I thought I had left it. And sure enough, there it was. It was 10:45 by that point, and I couldn't make it back to store by closing, so I gave him my name and told him I'd swing by in the morning.

Now, I had actually backed up my files the night before, so all I would have lost would have been my laptop, the backpack, and a couple of odds and ends. Even so, it was a few hours before my heart rate ratcheted back down into the normal range. And when it did, I found myself rather pleased with the world, content to know that I live in a place where a girl can leave a grand worth of home office equipment lying around for three hours, only to return and pick it up the next day.

I know all people aren't honest, of course, but a lot of people are honest. And it gives me a lift. It's very, very easy to get focused on the negative in the world, because the negative is so much more visible and memorable. But take it from my laptop and me: there's also a whole lotta good.

The Good Old Days

2009-01-06T23:48:00.000-05:00

Becky over at Suburban Matron had a clever post today about "dating herself" -- a sort of "remember when" montage about how things used to be. I've decided to copy her shamelessly, so here's how old I am:

I used to do research in the World Book encyclopedia.
As children, my best friend and I couldn't bring videos to one another's houses. I had VHS, she had Betamax.
I remember when it was called "Japanimation."
In ninth grade I had a huge crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. In his role as troubled teen Luke Brower on Growing Pains.

And lastly:

I can remember when you could pick up any remote control and operate it with no prior tutelage.

Victory is Mine!

2008-12-16T15:36:00.000-05:00

I'm done with the book!

It currently weighs in at about sixty-five thousand words -- a good five thousand below my goal. It's probably publishable at 65K, but it's definitely a little light, so I'll be looking to add those extra five thousand words during editing (that's about fifteen pages to you civilians).

It's quite a good feeling to have a draft, and I think the last scenes were some of the best. There are still a lot of problems with this draft, but that's something I can work out in revision. For now, it's time to celebrate!

Just For Kelly

2008-12-06T14:16:00.000-05:00

Ok, since Kelly asked for my strawberry salad recipe, here it is. This serves about 4.

Salad:

1 (10 oz.) bag of spinach, torn
1 (16 oz.) container of strawberries, sliced

Dressing:

Store bought raspberry vinaigrette +
1 spoonful raspberry jam

How much vinaigrette? I honestly don't know. Basically, just enough to coat everything. I'm thinking a couple of tablespoons should do it.

Crawling Toward the Finish Line

2008-12-04T17:16:00.000-05:00

After about 13 months of work, this book is nearly, very nearly, done. I have three more scenes to write: the climax, and two codas. I think I have material for four to five thousand more words; AKA, 15-18 pages.

And those 15-18 pages are KILLING me! For some reason, I'm having the worst time trying to sit down and write them. Maybe it's that I'm afraid they won't be as awesome as I picture them in my head. Maybe I'm afraid of the revision stage that will follow as soon as I put the last word on the page. But whatever it is, I have run into some serious resistance.

So, I'm taking a day or two to reconnect with my love of writing.

The first thing I'm going to do is stop reading anything that feels like an assignment. Most of my reading material lately has been writing textbooks, period research, and successful novels in my genre. Well worth the time spent, but maybe not worth the loss of reading as a recreational activity. I'm going to make a trip to the bookstore and pick up a few books I want just for the pleasure of them.

We'll see if that makes a dent in the doldrums. If not, it should at least be fun.

A Very Leftover Thanksgiving

2008-11-28T19:13:00.000-05:00

So Mark and I were on our own for Thanksgiving. We had a turkey breast in the freezer that we planned to cook up for a small Thanksgiving meal, until Mark made this comment:

"Why don't we skip the meal and just go right to the leftovers?"

It was brilliant. While we both enjoy Thanksgiving dinner, in our minds it is primarily a vehicle for acquiring a large quantity of leftover turkey with which to make sandwiches over the following week. So this year we bucked tradition, and as soon as Mark had carved that breast, the pieces were immediately designated "leftovers."

My best leftover turkey sandwich tip is one I learned from Friends. Soak a piece of bread in gravy, then put that in the middle of the sandwich. This gives you a nice juicy sandwich without letting any gravy seep out of the sides or, worse, soak through the bottom. Just be sure to use a piece of bread slightly smaller that what you're using for the sandwich itself. I used a drinking glass to punch out rounds that were slightly smaller than the hamburger buns I was building sandwiches on. A perfect fit!

1920s Slang

2008-11-26T17:05:00.000-05:00

For my book I've done research into a lot of subjects, including 1920's slang. People in the 20's, like people of every time period, had their own unique way of making themselves understood. "Horesefeathers!" they might say, or "None of your beeswax!" "That's the cat's pajamas!"

Fast forward to the 2000's. (The Aughts? The Zips? How did we let this decade slip by without giving it a decent name?) Most of this language has now been downgraded to cutesy, juvenile slang. Problem is, my characters aren't supposed to sound cutesy and juvenile when they say it. They're, like, for serious.

So: opinions? Can the 20's slang, or stick it only in the mouths of characters who can reasonably be a little bit cute? Any ideas?

Bridge Building 101

2008-11-26T16:32:00.000-05:00

You know that feeling you get when you sit down at your desk in the morning? That ugh, I don't want to be here, maybe I should get some cocoa or browse around the interwebs, blah, mornings suck kind of feeling?

If you don't, you're luckier than me. That's how I feel pretty much every day when I sit down at the computer. And yet by the end of the day, I've managed to build some momentum; words are flowing, ideas are humming, and in general, all's right with the world. Fast forward to the next morning, though, and it's back to ho hum, morning already, say this game of solitaire looks fascinating.

So when I was browsing through Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit recently, my eye lit on one of the techniques she recommends: Building a Bridge to the Next Day. Basically, it means you develop some little trick or technique for carrying some of your creative energy from one day on into the next, thus sidestepping the morning blues.

Ernest Hemmingway famously never stopped writing until he was sure he knew exactly what was coming next. That was his way of carrying his energy forward. I'm not sure this would work for me, but I've developed a little trick of my own.

For the next two weeks, whenever I'm done for the day, I plan to write a little note to myself about what I'm looking forward to in the next day's work. Something I'm excited about, something I'm writing toward. The more specific the better: "Kitty learns she's Koko's guardian," perhaps, or "Kitty and Gallo nearly kiss."

I'll write the note on an index card. Then, for the rest of the day, I'll use that card as a bookmark. This should result in me touching it several times a day, and hopefully smiling and picturing the moment I'm writing toward. Then, if all goes according to plan, I'll sit down the next morning and all that anticipation and excitement will translate to a productive morning at the keyboard.

Maybe it'll work, or maybe it won't and I'll have to examine another method of bridge building. Either way it should be fun.

My Character Formula

2008-11-24T18:00:00.000-05:00

Characters are arguably the most important part of writing, especially for someone who's hoping to be a series author. So, naturally, I do a lot of thinking (and analyzing and obsessing) about them. I think I've finally arrived at my Grand Unifying Theory of Character.

Step One: Two Defining Characteristics. They don't have to go together naturally. If possible, one of them should be a flaw.

The two Defining Characteristics for Kitty, my series protagonist, are Insightful and Self-Absorbed.

For Gallo, my series love interest, they are Curious and Solitary.

And for Fiore, my series antagonist, they are Romantic and Sadistic.

Step Two: Invent a Major Mannerism. This mannerism should be the direct result of at least one, or ideally both, Defining Characteristics.

Kitty's Major Mannerism: Manipulating people.

Gallo's Major Mannerism: Reading everything he can get his hands on.

Fiore's Major Mannerism: Well, this one is a pretty major plot point. Suffice it to say that it does in fact combine Romantic and Sadistic in what I hope is an interesting way.

Step Three: Color everything with a Mood. The Mood doesn't refer to the deep characteristics of their personality, but rather to their surface persona: how someone observing them from a distance might describe them. It isn't at all necessary for the Mood to be related to the Defining Characteristics; in fact, it can be pretty interesting if it's at odds with them.

Kitty's Mood: Ingenue

Gallo's Mood: Hard-boiled

Fiore's Mood: Refined

Step Four: Give the character a Unique Perspective. This is the way the character sees the world. It should be at some way at odds with reality. Giving two characters warring perspectives really amps up the potential for interesting interactions between them.

Kitty's Unique Perspective: It's all about the glitz and the glamour.

Gallo's Unique Perspective: Life is full of pain.

Fiore's Unique Perspective: I'm a good guy.

Step Five: All the rest. On top of this skeleton you layer additional characteristics, minor mannerisms, and quirks. Some of mine are:

Kitty: Loves hats, hates her figure

Gallo: Hates alcohol, takes obsessive notes

Fiore: Loves to eat, bullies his older brother

And there you have it: my character creation method. It's not perfect, and I don't even follow it exactly with every character. But it helps.

Here's To Misery!

2008-11-21T08:49:00.000-05:00

Recently I've been having a lot of trouble staying on task. I'm approaching the end of the book (or at least the end of the first draft), but for some reason it's become really hard to run this last lap.

For help, I looked to Steven Pressfield's The War of Art, which was rated reasonably high on Goodreads. It had a bit of advice which every writer has heard before. I paraphrase: "Treat it like a job. Show up every day. Don't miss a day because of your other responsibilities; people in other industries work those in around their jobs, not vice versa."

And it had a bit of advice I hadn't heard before. Paraphrase: "Go ahead and be miserable. Take pride in it. Be proud to say, 'Yeah, I stuck it out in front of that keyboard, and it was a rotten, rotten, rotten day, but the work's done.' "

Now, for me this was a novel thought. Most of my efforts toward improving my work output have had to do with making myself happier at work, with making it a less painful process. Maybe I'd be happier with some cocoa. Maybe I'd be happier with a change of scenery. Maybe I'd be happier in the morning/afternoon/evening.

You wouldn't think it'd be so hard to be happy while fulfilling my lifelong ambition and dream, would you? And yet, so it is. There's the fear, for one thing. The fear that what I'm writing won't be good enough/successful/long enough/brilliant/worthy/etc. And then there's the fact that while spinning story ideas is fun, cranking them out on the page is often just hard work.

So I like the idea of embracing misery. It has a sort of macho, hardnosed appeal. The idea that it's ok to just sit down, and let the fear wash over me, and still Not. Get. Up.

Anyway, I'll be trying misery on for the next few weeks. At least until I get these final scenes cranked out. And if it works, who knows? I might be miserable for the rest of my life!

Dream a Little Dream

2008-11-19T15:08:00.000-05:00

Did you ever have a really good idea for a story when you were asleep?

Or, at least, an idea that you thought was really good -- until the sleep haze wore off and you realized that the storyline that was so captivating in your dream doesn't... well... make any sense whatsoever?

This happens to me occasionally. I wake up thinking, OMG! This story is going to be awesome! I am so fantastic I am a virtuoso in my sleep!

Then, around noon, I start to spot some flaws. By late afternoon I'm a little embarrassed by my early enthusiasm. And by evening I'm like, "What was I thinking? A story about clown assassains? That would never work!"

Yep, usually it's a big bust. But the morning is fun. Like this morning, for example.

I had a sort of sci-fi dream about two girls, one of whom had used some sort of psycho-kinetical powers to leave the other girl in a permanently cloudy mental haze. I'm not sure why. It was one of those post-apocolyptic dramas, so presumably there were some compelling political reasons.

Anyway, Girl #1 (we'll call her Joan) had been captured by Girl #2's (Wanda's) allies. And they were trying to compel her to restore Wanda to mental health. It was slow going, though; Joan was resolute. But during her captivity, Joan and Wanda began to connect. So much so that Joan decided to go ahead and release the psychic hold -- even though she knew doing so would restore Wanda's previous personality and thus destroy their friendship.

As I write this, it's late afternoon, and the root of the idea still seems halfway solid. Basically, it's about what you could sacrifice for another person. We talk about sacrificing our lives for those we love -- but would it be somehow harder to sacrifice that person's love for you?

Whether anything will come of this idea, I don't know. It's not for a genre I usually work in. But I like the core of the idea, the emotional seed. And frankly, that's more than I usually get out of my dream epiphanies.

Tag! I'm it!

2008-11-17T14:01:00.000-05:00

So, Becky over at Suburban Matron tagged me, which means I am now obligated to (1) post seven interesting facts about myself and (2) tag somebody else, if I can think of anyone to tag. So, forthwith:

Seven Facts About Jane

1. My husband, Mark, is precisely nine months older than me. We like to joke that I was made for him.

2. I am not a creative writer. I am an analytical writer. Fun for me is not cutting loose and riffing on some crazy creative idea; it's analyzing what works, and why, and how to reproduce it. I like textbooks. I like Excel. I like saying things like, "The three elements necessary for an unforgettable character are.."

I read fiction with a very careful, critical eye. And if you sit down to watch TV with me, prepare to listen to me expound on the Principles of Story, at least a little bit.

3. I can't get enough reality TV. Wife Swap, 17 Kids and Counting, Boot Camp, Kept. No matter how pointless or how trashy, at some point, I've been addicted to it.

I think what I like best about reality TV is that it's TV that spurs conversation. Mark and I have had discussions about everything from parenting to management to the meaning of life in front of the tube.

My favorites are the really well judged contest shows, like Project Runway and Top Chef. And because I am analytical, I can tell you exactly why Tom Colicchio is the best judge evah!

4. I also can't get enough Remington Steele. You want to know the one person in America who actually bought Remington Steele on DVD? Yeah, that would be me.

5. I get wildly, if briefly, enthusiastic about all sorts of projects. In college, it was quilting. In my early marriage, it was orchid growing. (Dude, you can distill and mist and fertilize all you want, but those things are stubborn!) When we first moved into the house, it was upholstery. During the last season of Project Runway, it was fashion design. And currently it's sushi making.

I will read and research and pour my heart into it. And at some point, more than likely, I will just let it go. I know enough about myself at this point in life to enjoy the upswing, and not get too hung up on the inevitable downswing. It is just who I am.

6. I love living in the South. I really, really, really do. I love the food and the friendliness and the casual joy in life. And everything it between.

So if you make a comment about how stupid or racist you think Southerners are, I will give you a pained, tight smile to politely remind you who you're talking to. And nothing more will be said. But I will never forget your comment. And unless we're already close, I will never forgive you, either.

7. I eat bologna and mustard sandwiches. I know, I know. They sound gross. I'm gonna be honest with you: they kinda taste gross. But what can I do? They are my childhood flashback food.

And there you have it: seven facts about me. I'm supposed to tag someone else, but I don't really know anyone else who blogs, so... I guess I lose?

I Could Really Go For an Overpriced Sissy Drink About Now

2008-10-23T12:49:00.000-04:00

Over the past several months I’ve been toting my laptop out to the Borders and working there. It’s been a big win for me, productivity-wise. I don’t get distracted by the chores that need doing around the house. There’s no refrigerator to poke around in. And I’m about 100% less likely to curl up in a blanket, settle my computer in my lap, and drop off to sleep.

Problem is, the productivity bump is starting to taper off. Partly it’s that the novelty of the bookstore has worn off; partly it’s that I’ve discovered I can leech free wifi off the Applebee’s next door. I suppose I could consider moving down the street to the Barnes & Noble, where there’s no free wifi. But that would mean giving up Borders’ sweet hot chocolate with a ridiculous amount of crap on top for B & N’s slightly bitter hot chocolate with next to nothing on top. Bummer.

It would also mean giving up the relationships I’ve been cultivating with the Borders staff. These relationships aren’t exactly a linchpin of my social network, but they allow me to engage in some brief small talk when I hit a lull in my work, and to “rent” my café space on the cheap: I only buy drinks when I’m thirsty, instead of feeling obligated to pay into the coffers each time I visit.

I cultivated these relationships quite deliberately, mostly just by being nice, and by over-ordering slightly in the initial weeks, especially when the manager was in. After a few days, everybody working there knew my name, and now I think I’ve basically become their mascot, sort of a writer-in-residence. They ask me about the book, wish me luck, and when I come back after a few days’ absence, they tell me anecdotes about what I missed. I think I can count on being a "Staff Pick" if any of these people are still working there when my book comes out. And they’re nice guys; they often brighten my day.

Long story short, I’d hate to give all that up. So, the question is, do I have it in me to refrain from logging on to the web? Or is this another distraction I need to eliminate in my life, the same way I eliminated my household distractions by heading out to Borders in the first place?

OMG I'm 31!

2008-10-20T22:14:00.000-04:00

I recently had a birthday and went around telling everybody it was my 30th. Apparently I've hit early senility, because it was actually my 31st. Mark was kind enough to keep it a secret from me until I figured it out for myself, during the course of a conversation that went a little something like this:

"Honey, can you believe we've been married nearly six years? It seems like it was just yesterday. Wasn't it romantic? I was so happy and in love, just twenty-fi-... wait a minute."

I can't keep track of the passing years, but I can do basic math. Much to my sorrow. I thought I had made my peace with being 30, but losing a whole year right off the top like that really stings.

And of course it brings up the question of whether my life measures up to this new, adjusted number. It doesn't help that I'd already been feeling a touch... behind. At least in the career department.

I find myself looking at successful writers and saying, "Ok, sure, she's a huge success. But she's 38. I've got 8 (oops, 7!) years on her. I can still beat her!" And other such nonsense that shouldn't really mean a thing to me -- and yet somehow, in one insecure little part of my heart, does.

Because I've been responding to "What do you do?" with "I'm working on a novel" for a long time. And it sounds good and people act impressed, but there's a part of me that wonders "For how much longer?" How long can you really be "working on a novel" before you have to just go ahead and admit that you're a failure?

Never mind that it's the second novel, that I shelved the first one for good reasons, and that this one is immeasurably better. Never mind that it says things I've been trying to say for a long time. It ain't done, and it ain't published, and so in a very real way I don't have a career -- not yet.

And I'm 31. And it scares me a little.

All the Little Breadcrumbs

2008-09-09T23:56:00.000-04:00

So, I finished Along Came a Spider, which I enjoyed very much. It wasn't my favorite book ever, but it was by no means the Hacksville one might have expected after hearing how other mystery writers talk about James Patterson.

One of the things that really makes it work is the trail of tension Patterson lays out for us. I don't just mean that the scenes are tense, I mean that whenever they aren't, there's a little bead of tension drawing us forward, making us read just a few more pages.

One example is when the protagonist, Alex Cross, begins his relationship with the love interest, Jezzie Flanagan. They swim in a hotel pool, chat, and begin to get to know each other. It's not uninteresting, but neither is it particularly tension-fraught.

But the reader already knows that when Alex gets up the next morning, he's going directly to the ransom payoff. So if you think you can put down the book during that pool scene, think again.

This happens over and over again in the book, turning it into something you're not too unlikely to read in one go. It may be an event we know is coming up, like the ransom payoff, the trial, or the hypnosis of the kidnapper. Or it may be an unanswered question: "What did she see that freaked her out?"; "Is someone working with the kidnapper?"; "What's his long term plan?" Patterson lets us know that there are things worth knowing, which he isn't telling yet.

And for me, at least, that's enough to keep the pages turning.

James Patterson, Come on Down

2008-09-04T17:20:00.000-04:00

I've decided that, much as I want to, I simply can't read exclusively research materials while I'm working on my book. I tried to do it, but that's just not how I roll. I'm going to have to read some fiction.

So I decided to mix in some Breakout Novels: books that were such a sensation that they rocketed the author to a spot on the bestseller list and a place in the common consciousness. And the one I've started with is... wait for it... Along Came A Spider, by James Patterson.

A bit of background here: when I attended a mystery writers' conference a couple years back, the words "James Patterson" were pretty much synonymous with "hack." They also worked their way into a number of pithy comments said with a raised eyebrow and a superior air, as in, "Sure... if you're James Patterson!" "Maybe... to James Patterson!" or the less common, "That's what James Patterson said!"

You get the idea. Now, a big reason for all this drama is that Patterson's prose... well, it ain't too good. And writers care about prose. We have to. But it shouldn't surprise any of us that readers often care more about other things, such as character and plot.

(The other reason I suspect is that Patterson is, in fact, wildly successful, far beyond most writer's wildest dreams. (And unfortunately we writers aren't above a little professional jealousy (especially when the person we're jealous of seems demonstrably worse than us (like Audrey Niffenger.))))

So I went into this book expecting, you know, not to be blown away by the writing. But just looking to identify that spark that made so many readers cleave to Patterson, that has made him a bestselling writer for the past sixteen years.

And I think it's the stakes. Quite simply, on every page we have gut-wrenching stakes. Children kidnapped, then killed, lawmen murdered. Patterson isn't afraid to turn up the heat. And those high stakes whisk me right along, so quickly that, on page 173, I hardly notice the poor prose anymore. I just want to find out what happens.

Is it the most exciting book I've ever read? No, not really. But the stakes are high, and that's what keeps me glued to it.

(These stakes are actually a little too high for me. I want to live in a world where great dangers are weathered successfully; a world where kids don't die. So this may be my last James Patterson for a while.)

Mark Read the Book

2008-08-27T19:04:00.000-04:00

So, Mark read the book, and I can tell you there is just about no better feeling than hearing the love of your life laugh out loud while he's reading your stuff.

... Laugh at the funny parts, I mean.

You Know What's Interesting?

2008-08-26T18:59:00.000-04:00

There's a scene during the (wildly disappointing) final season of the Sopranos that sticks with me. Christopher, a recovering drug addict, is dating another addict who he met in rehab. They have fallen off the wagon together, and are sitting around her living room, doped out of their minds. Christopher turns to her and says, "You know what's interesting? Us being able to use again, and yet integrating it into our lives."

That's how I often feel about online gaming.

I kick the habit again and again, but it never seems to stay kicked. And every time I get into another online jag, it seems, for a brief shining moment as if I have finally managed that crucial integration. As though I won't decide to spend a beautiful day hunched over my computer, as though I won't get sunk into a tournament when I have a perfectly good book lying around.

Time to kick the habit again.

***

On a side note, how sucky was that last season of Sopranos? I knew it was going to be bad when four characters spent an entire scene sitting around talking about how one of the neighbor's kids drowned in a pool. The scene is shot in front of a lake, and one of the character's kids is off camera somewhere, playing on another part of the estate. Dread seizes the viewer with cold, icy fingers, and we all sat up a little straighter on the couch.

What happens at the end of the episode? Big ol' nothing. Much like the series finale.

Naming Scenes

2008-08-21T19:12:00.001-04:00

So, to lead myself through the endless quagmire that is Making-A-Sensible-Plot-Out-Of-All-My-Ideas, I've created a Master Excel file. In it, each scene has a name, along with a word count, plot summary, and notes on possible revisions.

One of the fun parts is trying to think of names for the scenes: names that are evocative enough that I can just read quickly through the list and recall the plot. Some I've come up with so far:

Father, I Have Sinned
Desperately Seeking Koko
Save My Child!
Can I Trust You?
Whir, Whir, Whir, Whir, Splat!

Writing the Breakout Novel

2008-08-21T19:04:00.000-04:00

I recently read Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass, along with its companion workbook. I actually liked the workbook better. It had a lot of good exercises, although be warned: they're not easy.

Basically what really appeals to me about this book is its incredibly high standards. Your character must be not just good, but heroic. And not just any old time either, but in the first scene. I like that. This book is not about writing half-assed fiction. It's about holding yourself to the gold standard, and really pushing for everything you can give.

Research Week

2008-08-11T00:55:00.000-04:00

So, I'm a little over halfway done with the book... 43,000 words. I feel like it's missing something, though, so I'm taking a week off from writing to (1) let some ideas marinate and (2) let Mark finish reading the thing, so I have someone to talk to about the plot.

I really needed to catch up on my reading anyway. I have a massive backlog of things I need to read, including a deadly dull historical tome about regular life during the early part of the century (it's informative, but dry as dust).

Basically, I don't think I'm going to read anything NOT related to my book until it's done. Which is a shame, because I also have rather a backlog of things I'm itching to get at. But for now, if it's not relevant, it doesn't go on my nightstand.

Halfway done!

2008-07-30T09:16:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm halfway there. I've reached the 2nd major plot point in my book, and it happened at about 35,000 words, which is nearly ideal. I think there's some tinkering yet to do, but things are really accelerating now.

I'm beginning the planning for Arc III, which will go from the mid-point to (nearly) the end. Arc IV is the climax and conclusion.

I'm optimistic about it. Things have been going very well lately, and I just thought of a new, wonderful twist...

It's Not About The Book #2: Kaboom!

2008-06-27T14:39:00.000-04:00

Yesterday we had a big storm, and a limb broke off a tree and landed in our driveway. The thing is huge!

I'm feeling so lucky; fifteen feet over and I'd be calling roofers right about now.

Be a Couch Potato

2008-06-25T16:13:00.000-04:00

People say TV is bad for you, but for a writer, a good long lounge fest every day might not be the worst thing in the world.

You can't learn about prose from watching television and movies, but you can learn about a lot of other things that are important to storytelling: pacing, tension, character, and more. And you can do it in far less time than you'd invest in reading a book. You can watch an entire movie every night if you want, and still have time to do the dishes. God, I love efficiency.

Plus, you can watch your friends and family respond to visual stories in a way you can't watch them respond to a book. I suppose you could sit near a reading friend and ask "What's so funny?" every time they chuckled, but there are two problems with that: (1) you'd never be able to detect their subtler responses and (2) you'd soon have no friends left to try it on.

But you can certainly invite your buddies over for a movie night, and pop in a couple of flicks that you have seen but they haven't. Then watch them as they lean into the screen, gasp in dismay, or get bored and decide to go make popcorn.

I recommend low lighting for this, and a seating arrangement that does its best to disguise your true motives. After all, people watching is at its best when the watchee doesn't know he's being watched.

Cheap Books

2008-06-25T16:10:00.001-04:00

Check out Book Mooch.

Here's how it works: you list the books you want to give away. People request them, and you mail them out. Then you receive points, with which you can request the books that other people have listed.

Looks like I've finally found a home for that copy of The Other Boleyn Girl.

Names by Decade

2008-05-29T19:44:00.000-04:00

A cool little writers' resource can be found at http://www.ssa.gov/OACT/babynames/.

You can search for popular baby names by decade, birth year, and (to a smaller extent) state, meaning that you can get a list of suitable character names based on when and where your character was born. Useful!

It's Not About The Book #1: Morocco Pics

2008-05-27T18:54:00.000-04:00

I've posted the best of our Morocco pictures on Flickr. You can click the "Slideshow" icon in the upper right to view it as a slideshow.

Book Recommendation: The Last Lecture

2008-05-27T17:38:00.000-04:00

When I was home recently, Matt gave me a copy of The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch and Jeffrey Zaslow. I devoured it over the weekend.

If you haven't already heard the story, it goes like this: Carnegie Mellon has a lecture series of long standing called "The Last Lecture," in which it invites faculty members to give a lecture on any topic that has meaning to them. "If you could give one more lecture before you die," the rhetorical prompt asks, "what would it be?"

Except for Dr. Randy Pausch, computer science professor and father of three, it's not so rhetorical. He has been diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer, and has less than one year to live.

The resulting lecture is a work of such joy and optimism that it has created an internet movement. "Inspirational" is a word we've quit using here in the 21st century, but it's the right word for Dr. Pausch's final work.

I encourage you to pick up a copy of the book, or watch the lecture itself. It may just make your day.

Bring on the Pain

2008-05-01T19:29:00.001-04:00

In my past two entries I've talked about how virtues and flaws make fictional characters lovable. But there's another factor, one entirely separate from character, that engages the reader's emotions and makes her care about your story people.

I'm talking about pain. Well, pain, and a few other emotional situations that amp up the stakes and get the reader's blood pumping. They are:

pain
jeopardy
struggle
injustice

Mark and I have been watching Lost on DVD recently. (We never got into it when it started airing a few years ago, but wow! What an amazing show). So I'm going to talk about the ways to raise the emotional stakes in terms of how they've affected my feelings for the characters on that show. If you haven't seen it yet, do not read ahead, but go out and rent the DVDs immediately. I'm not kidding here. Go!

Pain

I came to care about John Locke quite deeply in the very first episode about him. It wasn't particularly because of anything he was, or anything he did.
It was simply that I saw how much he was hurting--from the loss of his ability to walk, from his inability to hold onto a relationship with a woman who didn't really think of him as her man. And it broke my heart. And ever since then, I have been on his side--even at times when he's done some pretty crazy things.

Jeopardy

Okay, so all the characters on Lost are in nearly constant jeopardy. But since we'll have to be more specific for this exercise, we'll talk about Kate. Kate is in near constant jeopardy, especially in her flashback sequences, when she's practically always running from the law. Watching her in deadly jeopardy, not knowing exactly what's going to happen to her, is a thrilling--and moving--experience.

Struggle

Watching Charlie struggle to overcome his heroin addiction has been similarly moving. Even though he often made the wrong choices--when he hid the heroin filled statues, when he stole his girlfriend's heirloom for drug money--I was watching that struggle and feeling very attached to him. When the character struggles, it gives the reader something to root for--a way to get engaged.

Injustice

Back to Locke here. In the episode where we learn that his own biological father had perpetrated a devastating con on him, I could have wept for Locke. Sure, it was the pain of the situation, but it was also the sheer bloody injustice of it. It was wrong, dammit! Wrong! I was able to get righteously indignant on the character's behalf, and never had I felt more engaged with him.

All the characters on Lost have complicated storylines, with frequent doses of pain, jeopardy, struggle, and injustice, which is one of the reasons it's such a gripping show. We can't watch these people without feeling for them--without coming to love them.

Tomorrow...

2008-04-30T17:20:00.000-04:00

Emotional factors that inspire readers to love a character: pain, jeopardy, struggle, and injustice.

Character Virutes: Capability and "The Good-Guyness"

2008-04-30T17:01:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I talked about character flaws. Today I'll talk about character virtues.

While a character can have any number of virtues, there are a few that are nearly universally essential. These break down into two categories: Capability and Good-Guyness.

Capability

If your character is capable, he can get things done. The main virtues in this category are:

courage (the character acts, even when scared)
cleverness (the character can figure out what he should do), and
a sense of responsibility (the character doesn't look for somebody to pass the buck to).

Good-Guyness

Your character may have a hard edge and some serious character flaws, but the reader has the sense that, deep down, he's just a good guy. For me, for me, is comprised of two things:

fair-mindedness (the character judges all others equally--though not necessarily kindly or respectfully)
compassion for the weak (the character will not stand for seeing the little guy beaten down)

It's important to note that the reader judges fair-mindedness by her own standards, not those of the world the character lives in. Even if you're writing about a very racist society, your beloved main character can't be racist--not unless he begins to see some inkling that this way of life is wrong.

There are exceptions to everything, of course, and each of these qualities has a well-known and much-beloved character who lacks it. But, in general, I believe these virtues are the cornerstone to building a character readers can love.

Be Bad!

2008-04-29T16:36:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about character lately, and it seems to me that I've arrived at a Great and Important Truth:

We love characters not for their virtues, but for their flaws.

Imagine if you will a light beaming down from heaven and illuminating the world around you, while simultaneously an angelic chorus lifts their voices in a melodic "Ahhh!" That's about how I feel about this statement. It's the thing that makes everything click for me.

It's why I smile when Remington Steele does something shamelessly lazy, when Amelia Peabody blithely ignores anyone's viewpoint but her own, or when Kelli Copur of The Office says something brainlessly ditzy and self-absorbed.

The next time you find yourself smiling about a character, in a book or on TV, ask yourself whether that character is being good -- or being bad? I'm willing to bet it'll be the latter a good 75% of the time.

This doesn't mean that a character doesn't need virtues, or that we don't like those virtues when we see them. If flaws are what causes you to love the character, virtues are what make this love possible in the first place.

Or, if flaws are the chocolate in your triple layer fudge cake, virtues are the flour. Not wildly exciting, but boy would you miss it if it were absent.

Burn Down List

2008-04-11T22:23:00.000-04:00

There are any number of scenes to write and revise before this book is done, but here is a list of some of the other tasks awaiting completion:

Create map of 1928 landmarks
Research Eastern religions
Research 1920's gangsters

It should be a good amount of work. But that's all right; it should be a good amount of fun, too.