Spring Cleaning
Well, it is May and for the Marks’ house that means spring cleaning time. It’s always fun for me to tidy things up, because it’s almost a break from the writing game for a few hours. Plus for the budding detective it’s a way to learn a bit more about the occupants of a house, which is amazingly something that I’m writing about in my WIP, At Close Range, the overly long awaited sequel to The Scent of Murder.
Right now, I’m cleaning smudge prints off the inside of all the windows. To our intrepid sleuth, that could only mean we have a new puppy in the house who is extremely inquisitive.
On my desk, I have 3 new sources of information for my latest biography project, photos of Anthony Boucher that I need to file, 3 issues of The Third Degree which I need to file, some tax information, and a paint sample and estimates on the square footage for carpet in the condo (that’s my addiction to HGTV showing.) My MP3 player which holds a host of 80s music on it, perfect for walking the dog.
There’s the phone number of a friend I’m meaning to call, registration information for 3 conferences that I need to fill out and send in, along with information on Bouchercon2009 which I’m helping to promote (does this count??)
Right now, there’s a big mug of tea on my desk, which tells that I never picked up the coffee habit, but I love my caffeine. It dates back to when I was young and my mother would keep me up and give me steaming mugs of tea and just the two of us would talk. It’s always a comfort drink for me.
So don’t think of spring cleaning this year as a chore, but as an undercover operation to find out more about you and your family by what they own and what they leave out. It’s a fascinating look into a world few others get to see.
All the Little Gadgets
I’ve been dealing with a lot of technology lately. Kind of strange for me, but then, that’s the way things are now, isn’t it? At one point this week I realized that in my purse I was carrying an iPod, a dictaphone, and TWO cell phones.
Why two cell phones? Well…with my hubby’s job, traveling all over with soccer teams, he has to have a cell phone or be out of touch for a majority of the time — especially those three hectic months in the fall season. Because of that, we had his phone, our land line, and my Tracfone (one of those pre-paid deals). The Tracfone worked great for the little I travel, but it turns out that it’s actually cheaper for us to get another cell phone on a family plan, and drop the land line altogether. So I’ve been carrying around both cell phones this week, hoping to transfer my contacts over to the new phone whenever I get a chance.
On another technological side, I have been working on updating my web site. My web designer, after four years, has decided that her life (which is not spent as a full-time designer) is just too hectic to take care of my site anymore, so I had to find a new person. Between the new guy and my site host (who is a very generous cousin-in-law) I think we’ll finally get new information up soon. Not something I know anything about. The new guy and my cousin have cc’ed me on their e-mails, and with all this talk of zipping up sites, curling things, and who knows what all, I’ve decided I’m quite stupid on the subject. Thank God for people who know what they’re doing.
I also have a new e-mail address since — believe it or not — I’d been on dial-up until two weeks ago. We still don’t have actual High Speed Internet, since it’s inaccessible out here in the boonies, but I did manage to get wireless from Verizon, which is about three or four times faster than what I did have. So it’s better. Not spectacular, but better.
A funny note — with all the technology flying around here these days, I am still recording TV shows on a portable VCR. No TiVo for us, and no digital access yet. I do have those coupons just lying on my desk, but will have to force myself one of these days to actually go out and use them.
So it’s just been high/low tech here in the Clemens household. Not my expertise, but there’s no getting around it these days.
Anybody else have tech stories to tell?
Spoooooooooky!
I don’t usually read the obits, but paging through the Cleveland Plain Dealer last week, this caught my eye. Talk about a reality check!
Little Know Facts
Most people don’t know that back in 1912, Hellmann’s mayonnaise was
manufactured in England. In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars
of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Vera Cruz, Mexico, which was to
be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York.
This would have been the largest single shipment of mayonnaise ever
delivered to Mexico. But as we know, the great ship did not make it to
New York. The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost.
The people of Mexico, who were crazy about mayonnaise, and were eagerly
awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss. Their anguish was
so great, that they declared a National Day of Mourning, which they still
observe to this day.
The National Day of Mourning occurs each year on May 5th and is known,
of course, as Sinko de Mayo.
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Let me tell you ‘bout the birds and the bees, and the flowers and the trees. . . .
WARNING: Today’s blog contains material that may not be suitable for children or grown adults who run around wearing a Zorro mask.
Hey! Let’s talk about sex!
Sex is an issue that writers have to deal with all the time. In our novels, I mean. Different genres have different standards. Each publishing house has its own rules. Different imprints within the same house have different requirements regarding sex – more of it, less of it, none at all.
Readers are sensitive about it, too. I don’t know how many times sweet little old ladies at signings have asked me if there is any s.e.x. in my books. I never know how to answer. Does this particular little old lady actually want a lot of it? So I come right out and ask them, and if they say, “Oh, no, I don’t like that kind of stuff,” then I say, “No, there’s none of that in my books.”
Which is a lie. But, hey, I need to sell books. And I figure they’ll probably enjoy it anyway.
The Morgue Mama series technically fits into the cozy category, which is guided by the rules that Agatha Christie set forth several thousand years ago: No explicit violence, no explicit sex, no cussing, no harming children or pets, everyone must constantly be drinking tea and nibbling on biscuits.
Unlike Don, Casey, Jeff and Judy – whose books are stuffed to the gills with one ribaldry after another — my Morgue Mama books walk a much finer line. I do indeed write about sex. In just three books I’ve dealt with adultery, homosexuality, prostitution, incest, biracial sex, transgender sex, sex change operations, and, most shocking all, sex between people over fifty.
Yet, I have never written an explicit sex scene. And do not intend to.
In my three non-mystery novels I have written about sex more frankly, but still no real-time sexual encounters. I came pretty close in Serendipity Green, giving the two characters’ impression of the lovemaking session just finished. And I had a bit of sex in Fresh Eggs, but it was primarily between the chickens.
In the non-mystery I’m writing now, I have a somewhat explicit sex scene between – how should I put this – fewer than two characters. And it is anything but erotic.
Well, there you have it – my thoughts on writing sex scenes. Talk amongst yourselves while I wash out my mouse with soap.
(I had a much better closer, but it was a little too suggestive.)
Cleveland, City of Light, City of Magic
Some time ago your very own Casey Daniels, a long time friend, asked me to guest blog at The Little Blog of Murder. I decided then that since I’m a former Clevelander (12 winters of snow), and my own series, the Ministry is Murder Mysteries, takes place in a small fictional town somewhere in Ohio, blogging would be a cinch. I’d write about Ohio, about the reasons I set my series there, the joys of Ohio life. Easy. I sat down to do it.
Nada.
Not that there weren’t joys, mind you. My years in Ohio were good ones. I finished raising my children there. I wrote a lot of novels, walked a portion of Lake Erie’s shoreline–the parts you can get to, anyway. I drank Great Lakes beer, shopped at the West Side Market, went to Indian’s games. I even fell in love with the story of Whiskey Island, a peninsula near The Flats, where the Irish settled when they first arrived during the late nineteenth century.
And no, in case you’re wondering, it was NOT named Whiskey Island because the Irish settled there. Caught you!
I was so intrigued with Cleveland’s history, I wrote a novel about Whiskey Island, called. . . can you guess?. . . Whiskey Island. Then I followed with a sequel, producing two of my most popular books. So Cleveland was fertile ground for me then, and it’s still the home of two of my four children and my first grandchild. I really do love the city.
Fast forward to this very moment in time. I never wrote that guest blog about the joys of living in Ohio. I never spilled the beans about why I chose to set my series in the state, or where the town of Emerald Springs “really” is. Every time I tried, I found myself reminiscing about Cleveland. So in honor of the city, and to get this out of my system, I give you the Top Ten Reasons to Live in Cleveland, Ohio.
Just remember, I don’t live there anymore. If you’re not pleased find somebody local to complain to. I’m out of there!
Emilie’s Top Ten Reasons to Live in Cleveland
10–Beautiful summers and autumns. (You won’t see winter or spring on this list.)
9–Real men who aren’t afraid to view football games from a Dawg Pound or shower Milk Bones on opposing teams.
8–No sissy California smog. Cleveland has smokestacks billowing the real thing with no apologies.
7–A river that once caught on fire and now lends that mystique and name to a great microbrew pale ale.
6–A baseball team logo guaranteed to ignite conversations (and occasionally fistfights) among strangers.
5–A place where having a “ski,” “wicz,” “nik,” “ich” “nka” or any combination of “z’s” and “k’s” in your name goes unnoticed. Kind of like Dennis Kucinich.
4–Homemade pierogies and fresh kielbasa.
3–Neighborhood bars and some spectacularly beautiful churches (often on the same block) where everybody really does know your name.
2–Citizens who have traditionally welcomed and still welcome newcomers to Lake Erie’s shore, while keeping the best of their own traditions.
1–A world class orchestra, beautiful museums, affordable housing, and excellent medical care. You just can’t beat this place! Just plan to spend February in Florida. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Emilie Richards
www.emilierichards.com
Look for Beware False Profits, from Berkley Prime Crime
Off-keynote
Due to the sad fact that Tony Hillerman said that his health is too poor for travel, I’ve been asked to do the keynote speech for the Hardboiled Heroes and Cozy Cats conference in Dallas in June. I’ve met Mr. Hillerman before, at the Malice when he won our shared category of best non-fiction.
This is a new experience for me. I’ve never done a keynote. As was pointed out to me by others, I teach, and as a result, I should be used to speaking in front of large groups of people. That’s true, but in middle school, most of them don’t pay attention! Not exactly true, but most of them don’t sit back and listen for inspiration on the process of writing.
It is a bit nerve-wracking to speak in front of large groups of people. I don’t like imagining them in their underwear. I prefer to focus on 1-2 people and just pretend to be carrying on a conversation with them. But it will be different to be carrying on a 1 way conversation with the audience.
So now I’m trying to come up with ideas for the speech. I’m leaning towards talking about how all writers are marketing people and how the process evolves from aspiring author to seasoned professional. It’s a nice tie-in with what I’ll be speaking on in the panel and my work with MurderMustAdvertise.
I’m always up to listening to suggestion on the talk though. I’d love to hear from you on your favorite and least favorite keynote speeches.
Currently reading — 3 books at once for the Best Novel Edgar. I now understand why Anthony Boucher became a speed-reader — it was merely self-preservation.
Seeing the flaws
I am fortunate to have a brother who is not only an amazing musician and composer, but a professional proofreader. He kindly took the time this week to go over my juvenile fiction first draft, and it was an eye-opening experience.
About eighteen years ago he went through my very first novel several times. Thinking back to that, I am grateful that he put up with it. He even said yesterday, when going over this new book, that his job was a lot easier this time, as I’ve become a much better writer! (thank goodness for that) Back then, he had a lot more to do than now, but even this time he had plenty to run by me.
As a writer, it’s hard to get enough distance from my work to really see the flaws. Well, that’s not exactly true — I can certainly see flaws, but it’s the persistent, niggling ones that go right by me. I have my blind spots, and things that I seem to write about without realizing I’ve already used that phrase or word or idea multiple times. That’s why it’s great to have someone go over the draft with a fine-toothed comb and yank out the nasty stuff. Examples:
My brother said it really is too bad my protagonist has so many intestinal troubles. Seems he’s always feeling sick, having a tightening in his stomach, or being nauseated. Poor kid. I guess it’s my stock way of having him deal with stress, and I need to either change that or let him off the physical symptom hook altogether.
Certain words creep in, such as, “scrabbled.” Now, “scrabbled” is a great work — it just shouldn’t be used more than once. Same for “insinuated,” “pelted,” and “undergrowth.” All fun words. But too individual to be used multiple times.
Apparently my folks like to grab each other’s arms, too. They’re always “putting a hand on his arm,” or “grabbing her elbow.” Really, they should respect each other’s space a bit more, and leave each other’s limbs alone.
My brother is also great at noticing words that need another look to make sure of spelling or capitalization. Such as, does “x-ray” need to be capitalized? How about “rottweiler?” And how, exactly, does one spell Burbur carpet? I haven’t looked them up yet, but I will. Seeing how I’m not paying him, except with extreme gratefulness, I’m doing that work myself.
He pointed out a few time elements, as well. When I say “a few days ago,” was it really that long? Wasn’t it just yesterday when that happened? Or does it just seem like it?
Thank goodness for people who are willing to take time out of their schedules to help. I hope all of you writers have someone — even if you don’t have family access to a proofreading pro — that can go over your manuscripts to help avoid embarrassing gaffes.
What are some things you find yourself repeating in your books? Words you use to excess?
Or maybe you get it perfect the first time around. : )
The Writing Life
I don’t know about the rest of you writers out there, but back before my dream of publishing became a reality, I had this fantasy about being a writer. It was all about long, quiet days in front of the computer, a pot of tea at my elbow, a candle flickering in my office, my brain whirring over character, plot and brilliant dialogue. In that fantasy, I had hour upon hour of interrupted time, days to write and read and carefully edit. I am relaxed in that fantasy. After all, I am a writer, and that’s what a writer’s life is like, right?
Not!
As the last week has proved, the real life of a writer does not match the naive dream I once created. The reason is simple: all too often, life gets in the way.
Last week, we had two scheduled trips to the burn unit of a local hospital with my son (he’s healing just fine and is back to work), a trip to a different hospital with a friend who had out-patient surgery, a furniture delivery. Oh yes, and Malice.
For those of you who weren’t there, you missed a fine time. Malice Domestic is a conference of both mystery readers and writers and it was great–and exhausting. I ran from the airport (well, I actually went in a Rav 4, but you know what I mean!), to the friend’s house where I stayed, to the hotel. From there to a lovely dinner given by the fine folks at Berkley Prime Crime and the next day, from a meeting with my agent to a panel to a book signing to . . .
It was a very busy couple days.
I returned home Sunday evening, then on Monday, headed to the Festival of Mystery sponsored by Mystery Lovers bookstore in Oakmont, PA. What a fabulous event! Lots of authors, hundreds of readers, plenty of books sold. A writer couldn’t ask for more.
Except for maybe a few weeks of those long, quiet days I once dreamed about. Oh, and that pot of tea. Right about now, that sounds really good!
Cleveland
Since several of our bloggers live in the Cleveland area, and since I am signing May 12th at Joseph Beth Booksellers in Lyndhurst, I thought I’d relive some of my days in Cleveland.
Shortly after graduating from college, (69) I moved to Cleveland and played guitar. There were several places downtown that featured single guitar acts. One, that was open for a very short time, was Alice’s Restaurant. Right across the street was a club called, I believe, The Agora. I walked in late one night and saw the Doors closing their show with Light My Fire. Jim Morrison was lying on the stage, out of his mind and people were streaming out.
I played folk music in the the attic of of a club called Dickey Poo’s Tool and Die Works in the flats, while downstairs rocked with bands like Joe Walsh and the James Gang, The Choir, and a couple of bands with Eric Carmen. On Sundays, I would go down and jam with the bands. About two oclock in the morning all the entertainers, bartenders, waitresses and whoever else was left would go out to Captain Frank’s at the end of a wharf and have breakfast. D Poo’s opened under a new roof a number of years ago, but I don’t think it exists anymore.
I was off on Monday and I’d go down with some friends ( Alex Bevin and other musicians) to Diamond Jim Brady’s and we’d sit at the bar and listen to Art Model tell us about the Brown’s weekend game. Pro football wasn’t what it is today.
I became friends with a drummer named Bill Shwark who beat the skins for a group called The Damnation Of Adam Blessing. They played local clubs and got a gig with a big time record label. I corralled Bill into drumming on a demo I recorded in Fremont, Ohio. At the last minute, Alex Bevin came along and added some tasty guitar licks.
36 years ago. What a time. Cleveland was jumping, and I felt like a part of the whole scene. Alive with the possibilities that big things could happen. A disc jockey named Chris Eric Stevens was breaking Cleveland bands with major labels and anything seemed possible.
The funny thing is…anything still seems possible. Take your pessimism, your negatives, the bad news stories of the day and I’ll put up the possibilties, the promise of tomorrow and the chances to make your dreams come true. It’s an exciting time to be alive. It’s an exciting time to try to make things happen. And if you don’t believe that, it will never happen for you!
