Mysterious Matters: Mystery Publishing Demystified

Give That Jewel Thief a Contract

From The Week, August 21, 2009:

Dateline Miami
Famed Jewel Thief Jailed

Joseph Carbone, aka "Condo Joe," a South Florida jewel thief renowned for his lock-picking skills, styolish dress, and jaunty manner, was sentenced to ten years in prison for breaking into a condo.  Carbone, 62, for years had been a target of Miami detectives.  He was known to entrust his car to valets during break-ins and occasionally would send a friendly note to his trackers in the police department.  At his sentencing, Carbone told the court he intended to switch professions--to fiction writing.  Retired detective Mike Crowley appeared doubtful: "Ernest Hemingway, he's not."

If Mr. Carbone does not yet have an agent and/or a publisher, I would be very surprised.  I'd sign him up immediately.

Think about the elements of his story and why they'd make for such a great series:

1-A stylish gentleman protagonist who undoubtedly romances the ladies before stealing their jewels, leaving them with broken hearts but an inability to really get mad at the man.

2-Ample opportunities to do great things with the setting--Miami, home to everyone from the ultra-stylish to drug lords and gang members. 

3-A nice way to write crime novels with little or zero violence, quite appealing to many readers (myself included).

4-The ability to teach the readers about a topic many will find interesting--jewels, jewelry, gems, the art of jewelry making, fakes and forgeries, legendary stones worn by actresses....

5-A superb way to set up a Jean Valjean/Inspector Javert-type game of cat and mouse to carry through several books, each smart in his in own way but with a grudging respect for the other.

6-Great climaxes/denouements as the carefully crafted plot unravels layers of deception to show how our very smart protagonist has stayed one step ahead of the cops.

As for Mr. Carbone being no Hemingway, I can think of plenty of very successful writers who are no Papa either.

From Book to Film to TV (and Back)

I think I have opined in the past that I think of the mystery and horror genres as two sides of the same coin.  Both genres share key elements: suspense, the unexpected, the unknown, the surprise ending.  That said, I do think it's tougher to write a good supernatural/horror book than it is to write a good mystery, probably because horror is several rungs above mystery in the need for suspension of disbelief, and many of those who can gladly put reality aside to follow an amateur sleuth around bristle when ghosts and monsters start to arrive.

A case study that I've been thinking about lately is Stephen King's 1977 classic, The Shining, which was turned into a now-classic film of the same title by Stanley Kubrick in 1980, starring Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall.   Then, just a few years ago (2003), the book was refilmed as a TV mini-series with Steven Weber and Rebecca DeMornay.

In university I took a few film courses, and I distinctly remember my professor admonishing us that books and films cannot be judged by the same set of standards, that the set of characteristics that make a book enjoyable is very different from the set of characteristics that make for a good film.  And yet how often do we hear "Oh, the movie wasn't as good as the book"?  Quite often, I think....though the question is, of course, "How much would you have enjoyed the movie if you hadn't read the book first?" 

I had read The Shining when it first came out, and I liked it.  I recently re-read it (as I tend to get on these obsessive kicks), and it was just as I remembered it: well imagined, with a superb setting and a very good story line.  It is also, as I remembered it, about 100 pages too long (a chronic problem with King's writing).  Upon rereading, however, I realized something I hadn't considered the first time around, which is just how indebted King was to Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House.   For the premise is the same:  Hill House is just evil, as is the Overlook Hotel, though to King's credit he offers a bit more motivation for the hotel's malice than Jackson does for Hill House.  (Though this is part of the creepiness of Jackson's book--she very explicitly offers no explanation of the house's evil, saying that it is evil, period, for no special reason.) 

 And despite thinking the book is good, I have to say: I think Kubrick's film is better.  I'm no huge fan of Jack Nicholson, so it's not because he's the star.  It's because the film has so many iconic, memorable, and disturbing images that aren't found anywhere in the book: the blood gushing out of the elevator; the dead twin girls; the garden maze with Jack Torrance frozen to death at the end; the closing photograph of the Overlook in the 1940s, showing a young Jack Nicholson.  And, of course, Jack Nicholson hacking apart that door with an axe is a lot more visceral than the "roque" (an old form of croquet) mallet used by Jack Torrance in the book.   The hotel's motivation is different in the film, too: In the book, the hotel is trying to use the little boy, Danny, to increase its own powers, and it's Danny that the hotel wants; in the film, the hotel wants Jack Torrance himself, who it sees as the latest reincarnation of its caretaker.  Both motivations are good, and yet subjectively I just preferred the Kubrick film's interpretation.  And the film quite rightly removes the psychobabble explaining Danny's "shining," which strikes a very false note in the novel, while being just right when being explained in the conversation between Hallorann (Scatman Crothers) and Danny in the film.

An interesting point, and one much commented upon, is how annoying the Shelley Duvall character (Wendy) is in the film.  Upon rereading the book, I was surprised to see that she is indeed annoying there, too.  This is where I have to remind myself that there are annoying characters in fiction, just as there are dumb ones.  A lot of readers seem to bristle when characters are stupid or annoying--and yet, don't we all know people in real life who are stupid, annoying, or both? 

Stephen King didn't care much for the Kubrick film, feeling that Kubrick took too many liberties--which led to the TV miniseries "Stephen King's The Shining."  Note the use of the possessive in the title, to clearly differentiate this version and give it the author's stamp of approval.  (I am reminded of the Gary Oldman film from several years ago, "Bram Stoker's Dracula," as if Bram Stoker had been alive to give the screenplay the thumbs up.)   And because the teleplay had King's approval, it suffers from the same flaws as the book--specifically, it's too long, too drawn out.  Even more interestingly, Wendy as played by Rebecca deMornay is much more of a modern heroine, not the clingy, slightly paranoid, chirpy, uneasy neurotic as played by Shelley Duvall (and as portrayed by King in the novel).  I really have never known what to do with the character of Wendy Torrance, but perhaps that's part of what makes the novel and the Kubrick film so good; she is a distinctly off-note in a very off novel and film.

This brings me to an image gallery.  The following are covers used on the book in its various incarnations over the years.  Use the "comments" link below to vote on which one is your favorite, and why.

1. ORIGINAL HARDCOVER.

This is the original dustjacket from the 1977 Doubleday hardback.  I like the way it features the Overlook prominently, yet I think the image of Jack Torrance is too handsome.  The cover does show all three members of the Torrance family, the only one in which Wendy appears.  It also shows two elements of the novel that do not show up in the Kubrick film: the roque mallet (which wraps around the spine to the back cover) and the topiary animals, which come to life and attack the characters (replaced by the garden maze in the Kubrick film).  Somehow, though, I just don't think this cover is creepy enough; it could almost be the cover of a romance novel or an English family saga.

2. HARDCOVER REISSUE.

I don't care for this cover at all.  It's a little too "Chucky" for my taste, and the boy's glowing red eyeballs make poor Danny Torrance into some sort of evil child, when he is not that at all; he's sensitive and psychic.  To remove The Overlook from the cover is to do the book, and its homage to The Haunting of Hill House, a real disservice.  However, to me this cover does position the book much more effectively as a supernatural/horror book than the original jacket image.

3. HARDBACK REISSUE.

I quite like this one and love the fonts used.  The eyes are reminiscent of In Cold Blood and are subject to intepretation--are these the eyes of Jack Torrance, or the eyes of the Overlook Hotel?  My only complaint is that overall the cover is too dark and murky, which didn't allow the cover artist to capture the simultaneous beauty and evil of The Overlook.

4. FRENCH EDITION.

This cover moves the book's central image to that of Danny Torrance.  In the background, the Overlook burns to the ground, which is what happens in the novel but not in the Kubrick film.  (Indeed, King foreshadows the finale very overtly quite early, and throughout, the book.)  To me, this cover is a little too "Firestarter" and again, it makes the little boy seem malicious.  And I don't think The Overlook is done justice here.

5. HARDCOVER/LIBRARY BINDING.

It's easy to tell that this is a recent rebinding/redesign, due to the fact that the author's name is so large in comparison to the title.  I like the font used for the book title, but what exactly is going on in the background?  Why is The Overlook made to look like Stonehenge?   

6. OVERSEAS EDITION.

This one is a near-miss for me.  It's certainly spooky, and I like the image of the boy from behind; it captures Danny Torrance's innocence while portraying the Overlook as it was: glamorous and larger than life (and intimidating).  But somehow an interior shot of the hotel doesn't give the sense of the hotel's scale and grandeur.  And focusing solely on Danny on so many of the covers shown here doesn't do justice to the interplay of Jack, Wendy, Danny, and the hotel--which is something that the original hardback dustjacket tried hard to accomplish.

7. MASS-MARKET MOVIE TIE-IN.

This cover reflects the original movie posters for the Kubrick film.  I like it, with the font just sort of floating in space with that horrified face part of the capital T.  It's sort of grainy and scary, subtle and yet blatant.  The purist in me hates when books are redesigned to match films, but the much larger part of me approves of anything that sells more books.

8. MOVIE TIE-IN #2.

Sorry, this one's just sheerly derivative.  No subtlety whatsoever.  It should read "Here's the book for anyone who saw the movie and remembers Jack Nicholson chopping down the bedroom door and saying 'Heeere's Johnny!'  Now you too can read that thing called a 'book' on which the much more important movie was based."

9. RECENT TRADE REISSUE.

To me, a visually interesting take on King's works, but a little too Roy Lichtenstein to convey what the book is all about.  And The Overlook seems reduced almost to a quonset hut.  I'm not sure the role of the large sun here, when the entire book is all about the massive white-out of a snowstorm that strands the family and finally causes Jack Torrance to lose his marbles. 

10. UK PAPERBACK.

My absolute favorite.  Author's name is too large, but this does justice to not only the Overlook but to the tone of the book.  I wish I could have figured out a better way to get this image to look better on the blog.

11. GERMAN EDITION.

An abomination. 

12. EARLY U.S. MASS-MARKET PAPERBACK.

Mixed feelings about this one.  I love its simplicity and the neutral but scary shades of gray.  And our cover model could be either Jack or Danny Torrance (or both).  From a book buying perspective, I like that this cover raises a lot of questions that the reader will need the book to read.  But I can't quite love any cover that doesn't have the Overlook somehow included.

What NOT to Say to a Mystery Writer

For years I have been keeping my own private collections.  I have a notebook of the world's worst query letters and a notebook in which I paste scraps of the most godawful writing I've encountered.

A recent conversation with a writer causes me to share my list of Top Things Not to Say to a Recently Published Mystery Novelist.  This compendium, compiled over the years, is 100% true--people have actually said all of the following.

The scenario is this:  A writer has his/her first novel (mystery) published and proudly announces this fact.   In the old days it was in person or via a letter, now it's often in email.   Here are some of the responses they have received:

1. Sorry, I don't read fiction.

2. Seems like everyone's getting a book published these days.

3. I"m not really a mystery fan, but good luck.

4. Really?  My daughter just made the cheerleading squad.

5. Can I have a copy?

6. Next time I'm at the library, I'll have to look for it.

7. I don't even have time to read good books.

8. Your publisher is X?  Never heard of them.  Is it self-published?

9. Wow, I bet you're really rolling in dough now.

10. The only time I buy books is at garage sales, so hopefully someone will have yours.

As horrific as all of these are, it seems to me that the worst response is none at all.  The stories are legion of writers who send out an announcement and receive no response at all--no congratulations, no acknowledgment, no nothing.  One writer of mine (who I admit is an audacious lady) responded by not acknowledging the birth of a friend's child, which led to fireworks and a showdown of epic proportions.  But that's another story for another day....

Love and the Mystery

A recent issue of Mystery Scene magazine (Number 109, 2009) featured an article titled "Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang: Romantic Crime Films, Part 1," by Art Taylor.

Reading that article got me thinking about romance in the crime novel/mystery; and more than that it got me thinking about love and how it is handled in modern mysteries.  Now, I admit that I personally do not need any romance or love interest in a book; in fact, some of the best mysteries feature those now-paradigmatic loner types who actively avoid romance and love.  But many readers do like a romantic element, and certainly love triangles of the Stephanie Plum-Ranger-Morelli type keep readers coming back for more. 

And this is where I go back to my list (which I discuss with friends sometimes) of the "Top Ten Useful Things I Learned in University."  A lot of the stuff I memorized for exams is long gone, but there are things that have stayed with me, from a variety of different classes.  I first heard the term "conspicuous consumption" (Thorstein Veblen) in a sociology course, and just having that phrase has opened my eyes to a lot.  From psychology, I have really internalized Maslow's hierarchy of needs, which I think explains a lot about human behavior and motivation.  Freud may not have gotten all of it right, but I think he was dead-on with a lot of his defense mechanisms, which I see every day (projection, denial, rationalization, and reaction formation seem to be particularly prevalent).  

From a philosophy class I remember the six types of love set forth by Rollo May.   For those of you who haven't read May, I do recommend his work because it breaks down the various components of love, and I think an understanding of these can be quite helpful to the mystery novelist.  They are as follows:

1. Eros.  This is passionate love -- the love based on chemistry and intense physical attraction.  In mysteries, we often find eros taking place between our likable heroine and some guy whom she really does not like as a person, but whom she finds herself sexually drawn to.  Certainly that's not an uncommon phenomenon in "real life" (and applies similarly to men sexually drawn to women they do not like), but other than that, I don't think we find a lot of real passion in mysteries.  Can you think of mystery characters who fit into this category?  I'm thinking Eve Dallas and Roarke from the J.D. Robb series.  Robb has managed to keep their relationship tastefully and realistic erotic for the series, I think.

2. Ludus.  This is love played as a game.  Those who love the thrill of the chase, the game of cat-and-mouse, the challenge of getting someone into bed are ludic lovers.  Needless to say, this type of love leads to a fair amount of promiscuity!  Our heroes and heroines don't tend to be ludic lovers; but our genre has more than its share of ludic villains, those heartless but sensual people who use people for their own sexual purposes or titillation.  I think Stephanie Plum may qualify as a ludic lover, for she certainly has been mind-f***ing both Ranger and Morelli for 15 books now (or is it 16)?  I think readers may really take to ludic protagonists as a sort of vicarious thrill and think our genre could benefit from more of them.

3. Storge.  This is love based on friendship.  These people may not have an abiding physical passion, but they have deep bonds of friendship and partnership.  For me, the archetypal storgic lovers are Henry and Emmy Tibbett in the Patricia Moyes series; Henry and Emmy may never kiss or hold hands (certainly they never have sex), but they have a good, happy marriage and serve as helpmeets to each other.  Ngaio Marsh's Roderick and Troy Alleyn seem deeply storgic to me.

4. Mania.  This is, for lack of a better term, crazy love.  And let's face it, love has made us all crazy at one time or another, and I bet we could all provide a long list of friends who are in relationships that we view as wacko.  This is the type of love characterized by obsession, compulsion, insane jealousy, neurosis...all those great psychological problems that are so much fun to read about.  At the subtle end of this spectrum, I find the relationship between Elizabeth George's Thomas Lynley and his wife to be a bit manic, as they do seem to have a great deal of contempt for each other underneath their supposedly romantic exterior.  At the blatant end, we can think of Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter.  If you ever want to see manic love in action, read Djuna Barnes' Nightwood, which is not an easy read (and isn't even a mystery) but really does show how love can make a person crazy.  No longer are our serial killers crazed loners; rather, they now have a love interest who gets sucked into their vortex.  Whether this is realistic, I do not know; but it makes for good fiction.

5. Pragma.  This is pragmatic love; pragmatic lovers come together on the basis of a rational decision that they are right for each other: He will be a good provider, she will be a good mother and keep a clean house (or some such criteria).  I can't think of a lot of pragmatic lovers in today's protagonists; maybe because, from a fictional perspective, it seems so boring.  A relationship based on pragma doesn't have a lot of ups and downs or a lot of drama; it just sort of bubbles along like a babbling brook, not really disturbing anyone.  For this reason, it's probably not much fun to read about.

6. Agape.  This is charitable love--love of humanity.  To borrow from another discipline above, probably only those who have achieved a level of self-actualization in Maslow's hierarchy can get to a point of agape.  Like pragma, agape wouldn't be much fun to read about in suspense fiction.  I can't even think of any fictional scenarios that would use it to good effect.  Certainly villains have no agape in their hearts; and protagonists ruled by agape might seem so uber-human that we wouldn't be able to relate to them.  Though, come to think of it, perhaps those protagonists who decide to investigate out of a need for justice, or to bring succor to a loved one, act out of agape.

There is a seventh type of love (if I am remembering this correctly) called philia, which is "brotherly love"--our love for friends and family.  Philia does play an important role in mysteries, I think, because the supporting cast is usually tied via philial bonds to the protagonist.  And a good supporting cast is essential to a good reading experience!

Overload!

At lunch earlier this week, an old (by which I mean "long-time") colleague and I were talking about why it has become so difficult to achieve success in any artistic endeavor--whether writing, singing, painting, dancing, and so forth.

Of course, it was NEVER easy.  It's just that it seems a lot more difficult in 2009.  Of course, there are many ways to define success, but for the sake of this post let's define it as "the ability to pay your living expenses, and live a moderately decent lifestyle, through revenue generated by your art."  So, as an example, a "successful novelist" is one who makes enough money from royalties to pay his/her mortgage, make the car payments, put food on the table and utilities in the house, take care of the children, and save for the future.  A "successful actor" can afford all the same things.  To this definition of "successful" I should add that this must be over a longish period.  It's easy enough to make a livable wage when you are "hot," but we all know how fickle American taste is; and today's chart-toppers are tomorrow's has-beens.

The joint conclusion we came to is this:  We have hit a period of sensory overload in the arts.  Society simply cannot absorb all the artistic products of all the artists who want their work out there.  As a result, a few big names continue to garner massive salaries/earnings, while the vast majority struggle for notice.

Let's compare today with, say, 1975.  Back then, there were a few movie studios turning out a finite number of films each year.  There was also a decent but finite number of publishers, who signed up writers based on the quality of their work and their ability to develop a following.  On TV, there were a few major networks (ABC, NBC, CBS) that controlled what people watched.  In music, there were a few powerful record labels who signed talent and promoted their careers.  In short, there were many fewer actors being seen, TV shows being watched, and books available for purchase.  This is why "hits" in those days were so massive and ubiquitous.  When you had a hit TV show, half of America tuned in to watch.  When a song played on one of the two or three metro-area stations, it could become a massive hit and stimulate the sales of a million albums.

Now, in 2009, thanks to technology, the sheer number of people willing to produce entertainment for the masses has exploded exponentially.  Cable TV offers 500 channels.  Record companies have imploded; people don't buy albums/CDs any more; they buy one song at a time from iTunes, when they're not pirating the song from some free shareware site.  Filmmakers, tired of studio restrictions, have struck out on their own, and more independent films than ever are being made.  The big publishers still have a lot of market power (which is why MWA loves them so much), but hundreds (thousands?) of small presses have started up, offering alternatives to the now-incredibly-difficult "get an agent, get a big advance, get a big publisher" process--which is now open only to the select few.

At the same time, society has changed.  Repressive restrictions on personal expression have subsided since the 50s, and we are encouraged to "follow our bliss" and tap into our inner creativity.  Once we do that, we want to share it with the world.  We want our music heard, our acting seen, our books read.  We don't have big names or big connections, so young musicians hire out studio time and put their music up on their Facebook pages for free, hoping they'll get a viral hit.  Actors work for free in indie films, hoping someone will notice.  Writers sign on with smaller publishers (who offer little in the way of advances, because we simply can't afford it), and some even decide to self-publish.

Now imagine the poor consumer, who's working more hours than ever and has the demands of family, work, etc., to cope with.  How can the average person, who is already overloaded, absorb all these new singers, actors, films, and writers?  The answer is -- He can't.  Maybe he'll hear about a new book from a friend, or go to a film on the recommendation of a friend, but he can't possibly read all the new books or figure out who's the "hot" new TV actor when he has 500 channels to choose from. 

So these are the conditions in which we toil.  Putting myself in the shoes of the average consumer, I can understand why, when faced with a choice, she will purchase her copy of the latest Mary Higgins Clark rather than try brand-new mystery novelist John Smith or Jane Doe.  And in terms of music, it's easiest to stick with what you know when you're an adult and not having specific acts (Jonas Brothers, Taylor Swift) rammed down your throat by multimedia conglomerates (let's try an anagram here: Y E N S I D). 

And while we're on the topic - Why should anyone PAY for their entertainment when so many people are willing to give it away for free?  I could literally get rid of my TV set and spend my entire life watching interesting videos on YouTube.  If I posted at the right places on the Internet, I could have hundreds of writers sending me free copies of their book, in the hopes that I'd say something nice about it in some public forum, which might cause some lone person in the middle of Colorado to purchase a copy from Amazon.  With TIVO, I can watch any TV show I might like and simply blip past the commercials, which pay the bills.  And why should I subscribe to a newspaper when I can get all the latest news for free on their Websites or Yahoo?  Consumers aren't dumb, and they seek to satisfy their desires at the lowest possible cost.  I can't get mad at people who want free books, as I like free books myself.  But all of this together does make my job damn hard, which is why I posted (in a recent posting) that I feel as though small publishers are increasingly becoming philanthropic organizations funded by people who have made money in other endeavors and do it for the love of reading, and are willing to see the business through the inevitable cycles of red and black ink.

I have watched some mystery writers do everything in their power -- and well beyond what is expected of them -- to establish their names.  They go to conventions, give speeches, give away copies of their books, get coverage in newspapers, have legions of fans -- and are still dropped by their publisher for lack of sales.  It happens often, and it will continue to happen.  I wish I had a solution, but I don't.  The answer is probably to have fewer publishers, fewer TV choices, and just less STUFF in general competing for our already limited time.  But that isn't going to happen, which is why I have said a million times, and will say again, that all creative types should look on their creative endeavors as hobbies that may someday earn them a bit of money -- and that they shouldn't ever quit their day jobs.

Lady Killers...of the 40s

I don't usually write too much about the history of mystery here on Mysterious Matters, but a few recent emails pointed out to me that I seem to write a lot about female mystery writers.  I wouldn't say that I have done so consciously, as I grew up with all the great male writers (Erle, Ellery, Raymond, Ross, Georges, et al.) as well as the great ladies (Agatha, Ngaio, Dorothy, Josephine, Margaret).

I do think it's true that Sisters in Crime had a massive impact on the industry's (and reading public's) willingness to read more types of book by female writers; and I'd venture to guess that of the new mystery series being published, probably 65% are by women.  I look at my own list and know that I definitely have substantially more women than men.

It's always hard to get into generalizations, but I think I have to credit women with bringing more psychology into the genre, which has been the key to their success.  Once we as a culture became aware of psychology and began using the terminology in common parlance, this became a necessity in fiction; and women seemed to be more on the cutting edge of that.  The old-time guys did a good solid whodunnit, with a wisecracking detective, snappy writing, and the occasional femme fatale.  They missed the boat in terms of the deeper psychology, and when I think about the particularly good male writers in the genre today (Michael Connelly, Reed Farrel Coleman), it's usually because I think they have a good command of the psyche over and above their ability to tell a story.

I realize, too, that I end up reading a lot of the books my wife has discovered or purchased, and she tends toward female writers.  Since we like to read the same books and then discuss, this means I have been made aware of many writers who would otherwise have passed my notice.

One of them is ELISABETH SANXAY HOLDING, who was quite the rage in the 1940s.  Two of her best-known books are THE INNOCENT MRS. DUFF and THE BLANK WALL.  Reading them now, it's easy to see why they appealed to mystery readers: they were tightly plotted novels of suspense that you wanted to read through in one sitting.  A common theme (though that may be too strong a word) is a rather weak or sheltered woman who somehow finds the strength amidst her general incompetence to take a stand against a bad guy to protect herself or her family.  If these novels were submitted to me today, I would think "You've got to be kidding - this is not the way the world is, not the way women behave."  But they're interesting as period pieces, even though I found my eyes rolling up into my head occasionally.  My wife loves them because the protagonists always remind her of her mother and many aunts, who were all expert at playing at being helpless or ignorant while being quite manipulative behind the scenes.

Wrting around the same time was a different woman writer, very successful in her day: DOROTHY B. HUGHES, one of MWA's deserved Grand Masters.  I recently reread IN A LONELY PLACE (story of a serial killer, told from that point of view, playing cat-and-mouse with the cops) and THE DAVIDIAN REPORT (Cold War tale of spies and espionage).  I came away with a tremendous amount of respect for Hughes, who wrote true noir.  Every sentence in these books rings true.  They're tough as nails but show a much stronger mastery of character and psychology than Holding's books do.  Another thing I noticed about the books is that, though relatively short, they take longer to read than you would expect.  I think this is because they are very "interior," with very little dialogue, and you have to read every word of every paragraph to make sure you aren't missing anything important.  When I feel that I have to, and want to, read every single word of every page, I feel like I have been transported into the realm of literature.  As for female characters, Hughes wasn't afraid to make her women smart and perceptive (Sylvia in IN A LONELY PLACE) or conflicted (Janni in THE DAVIDIAN REPORT). 

It's almost as if you can see the continuum of feminist writing and awareness in the work of these two women, with Holding being on the low end of the scale, and Hughes at the high end.  Of course, I am not a historian of the mystery, and I know there have been several excellent works written about women in mystery, so if anyone would like to recommend them here, please do.

I have gushed in the past about MARGARET MILLAR, who really hit her stride in the 40s and 50s, and while I'm on the topic of favorite women writers, I should also mention the really superb CELIA FREMLIN, who just died last month.  She got started in the late 40s and, like Millar, had unpredictable output, with each book being quite unique and different from the last.  If you've not read any Fremlin, you really must.   

So You're Just Starting Out...

In the last few months I've been getting quite a few queries from what I would call "young" writers.  By this term I mean people in their early- to mid-20s, often college students or recent college grads.  To all of you who fit into this category, I congratulate you.  There are challenges ahead, but you benefit by starting early.  You learn from your mistakes, make connections, and find your voice. 

And here's what I've found most encouraging:  Many of the story ideas included in the queries have been fantastic.  (I wish I could mention two or three of them here, because they were so good, but that would be the violation of a sacred trust.)   What made them so good was their originality and the thought that went into them.  These were young people who didn't just think "I'm going to sit down and write a novel"--they had really thought through what they wanted to accomplish and how they could make their work stand out. 

So today I would like offer some tips for those just starting out.  As always, remember that Mysterious Matters is just one man's opinion, and to learn from as many sources as you can.

1. Stop worrying so much about "setting up" your story.  What I have seen in these manuscripts is a very concerted effort to set the story up in the first couple of chapters.  The best advice that I can give you is this:  Your first couple of chapters must BEGIN with story, not SET UP a story.  You have to grab your readers and pull them into the action--the ancient device of in medias res is as relevant now as it was then.  I know you are trying to do the right thing by playing fair with your readers and giving them the information they need to understand the story.  But the first pages of a good mystery novel should leave the reader with a plethora of questions, not a surfeit of answers.  You don't want readers to know everything so early -- feeling that sense of incompletion is what drives suspense and keeps the pages turning.  In a nutshell:  Look at the first fifty pages of your current manuscript.  I bet you could cut that in half and get the story moving more quickly.

2. Work on your dialogue.  This seems to be a particular area of improvement for younger writers.  Dialogue is often written solely to provide information (understandable in a mystery, of course), but it is often wooden, without the cadences of real speech.  You also need to make sure that each character has a distinctive voice/speaking manner, and that all characters don't sound the same.  The old trick is to read the dialogue out loud and "hear" if it sounds right.  If you're writing about a milieu or specific place, try to visit that place and listen to the locals--or, in a pinch, find a (good) film set in that location and listen to the characters' speech and vocal patterns. 

3. Polish before submitting.  Many of these manuscripts have a few typos and grammatical errors.  Nothing that a copy editor can't fix, but any work you present to a professional (whether editor or agent) must be clean as a whistle.  This includes cover/query letters and plot summaries.  The really is no excuse for misspellings and grammar problems.  You should be editing your own work to find these, or having someone else read your work one final time before you submit.

4. Cut, cut, cut.  Your book is most likely too long.  You can give me a dozen good reasons why your manuscript is 120,000 words, and all you will hear me say is, "Get back in touch when it's no more than 80,000."  All writers--not just the young--can grow fond of certain passages or their own words, and can't always objectively figure out what sounds nice but isn't essential to plot or character (the two key elements in a crime novel).  You have to be willing to hack away at your manuscript with a machete--and then be able to deal with it when I hack away even more.

5. Study the masters.  Regardless of the genre you're writing in, it helps to read some of the masters of that genre.  Most likely you've done this already, but if you decide you want to write mysteries, you should have read at least a few Agatha Christies plus others of the specific subgenre you want to write.  For thrillers, you really do need to have read some of the greats, such as Dean Koontz and James Patterson, to understand why they have developed such a loyal following.  My key piece of advice here would be to talk to your local librarian about the most popular writers, then check out the shelves.  Lots of books by the same author in a library is a very good sign that the writer knows what s/he's doing.  Don't copy, of course, but learn by reading.

A lot of people will give you a formula for writing a query letter...I'm sure you can find dozens of Websites showing you exactly what should be in each paragraph.  I personally find that I respond well to query letters that are somewhat more personal and somewhat more revealing of the writer's hopes and dreams.  My heart goes out to the 21-year-old who says, "I want to be a novelist more than anything and am looking for someone to give me my first chance."  Some would say you shouldn't mention your age in a query letter, and certainly there are a lot of good reasons why you shouldn't.  But I like to see some personality in a query letter, and younger people, I have found, tend to write from the heart rather than sending a business-like, standardized query--and I always find myself responding well to that.

The Last-Page Sound

My wife (God love her) recently pointed out to me that I make a noise each time I finish a book or a manuscript.  Sometimes I even say a word.  And it occurs to me that each word or sound is filled with meaning and connotation.  I bring up this topic today, because I asked around the office, and everyone (older and younger, male and female) admitted to similar habits.  It does make sense, because you've just been on a journey of a minimum of 200 pages and at least 10 hours (sometimes much more) with a particular writer and a specific set of characters, and you've been involved in the plot from beginning to end.  When it's all over, you're bound to have a reaction of some sort.  Herewith my most common reactions:

1. OK. 
When I finish the last sentence and I say, "OK," I am thinking.  "OK, that was all tied up just fine."  I can't say that it's a word or noise of great enthusiasm, but it is a noise that acknowledges competence and a job done well.  "OK" doesn't mean I've been blown away, but nor does it mean that I have been disappointed. 

2. WOW.
This word is the highest compliment.  When I've turned the last page and said "Wow," it means I've been really impressed with something.  It occurs to me as I write this that lots of books and manuscripts these days go out with a whimper rather than a bang, perhaps because whimpers are better at setting up a sequel.  Closing with a bang always impresses me, but a "Wow" happens only when it's been preceded by something excellent.  If I say "Wow" at the end of your manuscript, you will very soon have a contract.

3. NICE JOB.
This is a banal phrase I use that is actually more complimentary than it sounds.  It means I think the author has balanced a lot of things well--plot, character, pacing, etc.  It's a holistic compliment, a way of acknowledging that the writer knows his/her craft and has done a nice job of bringing it all together.  Now, "nice job" does not equate to that common phrase of "falling in love with the manuscript" (for me, that's the "Wow" in #2), but it does mean that I'll likely ask a colleague to read the manuscript, which does move that MS closer down the road to publication.

4. <SIGH>.
Sighing is usually good, but wistful and a little sad.  It means a book that I've really enjoyed has ended and that I may not see the characters again for a while.  I often sigh at the end of the Precious Ramotswe books, because I've found them so delightful and relaxing, and I'm a little sad that I'll have to wait another year to hear more from Mma Ramotswe and the outspoken Mma Makutsi.

5. AARGH.
This is the sound of frustration.  It means I'm disappointed in the execution of something--the ending, the writing, the resolution, etc.  The frustration is usually borne of having seen several good elements in the manuscript, but the book not coming together as a whole.  This noise usually means I don't think the author will be able to "fix" the manuscript to my satisfaction, so it usually leads to a rejection letter that does have some nice things to say despite the rejection.

6. WTF?
Some of my readers with teenage children may know that this stands for "What the f---?"  This is a sign that something has gone terribly wrong.  It's that horrible sound that means "Oh God, I have just wasted hours...for this?!?"

7. YES.  <NOD>
I have this reaction when justice is well served, when the villain gets his or her just desserts and/or poetic justice has been done.  The nodding is my way of agreeing with what the author has said and done, how s/he has brought things to a conclusion that I find eminently satisfactory.

8. <SHAKE OF THE HEAD, SIDE TO SIDE, with pursed lips>
This is the "bad movement."  A book that has annoyed me, or has failed to engage me, or has made some serious mistakes gets the shake, that dismissal that moves the MS from the "not right for me" category into the "this thing will never get published" category.

At least, these are the last-page noises and movements that I remember from recent reads.  Perhaps I'll add to the list in the future.  What are YOUR noises?

Small Presses: The Future of Publishing?

Over the last few weeks, the "blogosphere" and "listseriverse"  have been buzzing about small presses and how we are the "future of publishing."  Oh my, that sounds portentous and, if true, more than a little intimidating.

Speculation about the future is rampant, what with daily newspapers folding across the country and magazines shutting their doors.  Is the printed word going solely onto the Internet (God, I hope not)--and will books necessarily follow?  Are the fates of the "big publishers" (those so readily endorsed by MWA, because they give out-of-proportion advances that they rarely recover, etc.) hanging in the balance?  Are they sitting at the sidelines, chewing their fingernails because they see us independent publishers creeping up behind them like a thief in the night, stealing their market share and their best writers?

Honestly, I don't think so.  But I do think things have to change, and are changing slowly...but these are not necessarily changes that benefit any particular person or entity, whether novelist or publisher.  I think it's increasingly clear that the large houses are taking fewer chances than in the past, mostly as a result of having gone public in recent decades, which makes them answerable to stockholders, who want profit$$$ and not necessarily a stake in bringing a worthy writer into print.  And it's getting harder and harder for ANYONE to make any money.  Bookstores are losing money; publishers take big write-downs in terms of returns; writers get meagre royalty checks.  Of course, Janet Evanovich and James Patterson have nothing to worry about, but how many writers can say that?

And yet...people still want to write books.  They want to write very badly, and they want to be published, and they want people reading their work.  This is where we independent houses step in, accepting unagented submissions and taking chances, because our cost structure is lower and we have lower overhead.  We offer a way for these aspiring writers to make it into print, but always with the caveat that they really cannot expect (barring a minor miracle) to make MONEY from their work.  A little pin money, yes--enough to buy some new furniture once in a while.  But not mortgage-paying, car-payment-making money.

So, then, are we the future?  I think we are to a certain extent--but I also think that we are the distant, distant past.  Remember medieval and Renaissance days, when painters, artists, and poets were "sponsored" by the wealthy, who got their portraits painted and odes written about them in exchange for monetary support?  Well, I do think the current small-press ethos is based on a similar patronage model.  This is what I mean:

The house I work for is owned by a few independently wealthy (or, should I say, "well off") people who love books and who decided they wanted to be in publishing.  Their money does fund our operation, in that they are willing to ride out the highs and the lows over a number of years, where we seem to alternate between red ink and black ink.  These gentle folks (well, gentle is not the right word) are dedicated to publishing, but that doesn't mean they let me spend money foolishly.  Before any book is published, our editorial board - composed of the owners and the editors/publishers - agree to its publication.  Each book is being financed by these folks, so they have to like what they see.  I suspect/know that this model is true at a lot of other independent houses.

And what about me?  Well, I am fortunate enough to have made some nice bonuses in my younger years, and to have invested wisely, so that at this stage of my life I can afford to work for a salary that most young people could not live on.  This is a pretty nice life for me at a particular age, but I can see why younger people would want to pursue careers that pay a steadier, higher income.  In fact, I don't blame them in the least, though it does sort of break my heart to see younger folk not coming into the industry (trying "corporate communications" instead, because of the higher pay).

For all the above reasons, I get so frustrated when reviewers refuse to review our books because they might not have heard of us, or because we're not on some list sponsored by some group, or because we're not [fill in the blank with some criterion that discriminates against independent houses].  Anyway, a new week is about to begin, so I will close by saying: "Here's to good books, and to the people who write and publish them." 

Are You a Hoarder?

Normally Mysterious Matters focuses on...well, mysterious matters...but this week I'm going to expand on the topic a bit to pontificate about the larger topic of books and readers.

Listen, there's a lot of talk about books become obsolete or hopelessly outdated.  I don't believe it.  Books are here to stay.  Imagine if the Internet had come before books.  People would be saying, "Oh, wouldn't it be nice if, instead of hyperlinking all over the place and not getting anything done, we could have professionally edited and printed materials, written by talented experts, in a nice portable format and that doesn't cost too much?"  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is the definition of a book.

This isn't to say that there won't be additional choices--the Kindle comes to mind, and it's a good choice.  I know at least one apartment dweller who loves it because her studio apartment is so small that she literally doesn't have the place to keep books.  Kindle sales will grow; so will online subscriptions.  However, I seriously doubt that the printed book is going away any time soon.  And I don't want it to; which is ironic, because if we could publish and distribute everything electronically, the bulk of our costs (printing, shipping, returns) would go away and there'd be a lot more black ink to spread around.  But that's a different story....

What I really have been thinking been thinking about (the preceding was just a sort of preface) is the different approaches to books, and how one person's approach might make another shudder with horror.  Consider the spectrum:

HOARDERS vs. GULPERS.  "Hoarders" are those people who buy books and then actually "save" them.  They will pick up the new book by a favorite writer and save it for a time they will really enjoy it--perhaps vacation, or an airplane trip, or as a reward for getting something accomplished.  That book is always in the back of their mind: "Ah, I can't wait until October 15th, when I can read it."  They gaze it longingly each time they pass it, but they are firm in their ability to hoard and delay gratification.  "Gulpers" rush out to get the same book and have half of it read by the time they get home from the bookstore.  I'm a hoarder--I always save the Alexander McCall Smith/Precious Ramotswe books for air travel, when I most need the calming influence of Mma Ramotswe.  And when I'm all caught up with the series--and there are no more waiting to be read--I feel a little depressed.

HARDBACK vs. PAPERBACK.  I admit it - I love a hardback.  I love the feel, the size of the pages, the paper.  I'm one of those people who always look under the dustjacket to see what the actual book looks like.  But they're heavy and expensive, so many prefer a nice portable, inexpensive paperback.  Some readers will split the budget, buying hardcovers of particular favorites but waiting for the second tier to come into paper.  I personally also like trade paperbacks quite a bit, with the larger trim size and sturdier feeling than the mass-market paperbacks.  There's not really snobbery going on here, as there are many, many fine paperback originals--and I think there will be more as we move forward, because the price point is much more reasonable when trying to break a new author.

FOCUS vs. DIVERSITY.  There are some of God's chosen people who can be reading four or five books at a time.  There's one in the bedroom, one in the living room, one in the den, one in the bathroom.  They move among books and keep all the strands separate in their minds--they're the ultimate multi-taskers.  I personally am just the opposite--I can't even read a published work when I'm in the middle of reading a manuscript.  And I certainly can't read two or more manuscripts at once--I break into hives just thinking about it.  And yet one of my colleagues here does that regularly.  She says, "When I read a lot simultaneously, the really good stuff stands out."  Hmmm, interesting point.  But totally impossible for me!

STEADY STATE vs. IN TRANSIT.  I know of some people who read only on their commute--on a bus, a train, a subway.  While at home, they don't pick up the book.  In contrast, there are those who have a comfortable chair at home and read at the same time and in the same place everyday or night (I'm in this category).  What I find interesting is that books still do seem to be one of the top choices of travelers.  Of course kids have their video games and iPod, and business types like to bring along their laptops and watch movies; but books seem to be holding their own, which makes me happy.

FICTION vs. NONFICTION.  Most people, it seems, prefer one or the other.  One of my authors recently told me that when she proudly announced the publication of her first mystery to some colleagues, one of them looked at her and said, "Sorry, I read only nonfiction."  Ouch.  (For the record, try not to say such a**holish things to recently published novelists.) 

GENRE INTENSITY vs. GENRE DIVERSITY.  Some people are so committed to their chosen genre that they read more books, and know more about the business, than we editors do.  The genre doesn't necessarily have to be mystery; there are equal numbers of devotees of romance, paranormal, science fiction, and so forth.  A lot of these people would make wonderful editors!  In our own field, I think of some of the most mystery-genre-intense people to be L.J. Roberts, Harriet Klausner, Gloria and Theodore Feit, and P.J. Coldren.  They all happen to be excellent reviewers as well; and they are in the rare position of being able to judge really well because they have read so widely.  So, if any of them are reading this -- thank you, and please keep up the good work.