Mixing it up
I’ve spent the last couple of television seasons watching House, M.D. I’m sure a lot of you have, too. I’ve watched the first two shows this season, and I have to say, I don’t really mind if I miss the next few.
Hugh Laurie is, of course, fantastic, and I still laugh out loud a few times each episode, but the show has become a formula:
A) Sick person/people with undiagnosed illness are admitted to the hospital.
B) House and his interns misdiagnose the illness several times, each time giving the patient a treatment they don’t need or which won’t work
C) Eventually, they discover the real medical culprit and most of the time the patient lives.
End of story.
They’ve tried to mix it up with deaths of friends, House’s drug addiction, and new interns, but it really all comes down to the same plot. And I have to say, I’m getting a bit bored with it all.
Don and I were talking the other day about how this happens with books. Some series begin to seem all the same as the books drag on (and on), or sometimes an author will write a few different series, but they’re basically the same story and characters with a different wrapping.
The final Stella Crown book, Different Paths, just came out this month. One of the reasons I’m stopping the series at five is that I don’t want the books to become all the same — I mean, how many times can a dairy farmer get into trouble that involves dead people and it still can be even slightly believable? No too many, I don’t think.
I’m now working on a new series, which will begin in 2009. I find myself double-checking a lot — is this or that something my new protagonist would say or do, or is this a remnant of Stella? This new woman is very clear in my mind, and is very different from Stella. She exercises on purpose, doesn’t swear, and hasn’t stepped foot in her own home for months, nor has she hung out with friends. But it’s the attitude I need to be aware of, her inner life, and make sure Stella’s not seeping into this new person.
Writing a new series is a lot of fun. I enjoyed Stella, but it was time for her — and for me — to move on. Now I get to write about a new setting, a new set of issues, and experiment with a bit of a different style. It feels good.
But I guess I’ll have to let the readers be the judge next year!
Love ‘em or Hate ‘em: the Deadline Blues
“A perfect method for adding drama to life is to wait until
the deadline looms large.”
Alyce P. Cornyn Selby
OK, I’ll admit it right up front: I have no idea who Alyce P. Cornyn Selby is (or was). But I do know she knows (or knew) what she was talking about. I have an October 15 deadline looming large and like with every deadline, the drama is mounting.
The house really needs a good cleaning.
There’s tons of laundry that needs to be washed.
Friends are suddenly asking about lunch/dinner/drinks. When can we schedule?
I’ve got a pile of German contracts to sign, and a trolley tour coming up this weekend, and an idea for a new series that would be brilliant if I just had time to sit down and think it through.
So how am I handling all this? Well, the first thing I decided to do is sit down and take a deep breath. And then I thought it would be interesting to see what the famous and not-so famous have to say about deadlines.
Just like Alyce, I don’t know who some of these people are, but here’s what they had to say:
“Deadlines are meant to be broken.”
Sarah McLachlan
“I am one of those people who thrive on deadlines, nothing brings on inspiration more readily than desperation.”
Harry Schearer
“This is the earliest I’ve ever been late.”
Yogi Berra
“A deadline is negative inspiration. Still, it’s better than no inspiration at all.”
Rita Mae Brown
“The ultimate inspiration is the deadline.”
Nolan Bushnell
“Success is 10% inspiration, 90% last-minute changes.”
From a billboard ad
And my very favorite . . .
“I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”
Douglas Adams
Sounds like the next couple weeks will be dramatic and full of inspiration. I guess a writer can’t ask for more!
If it’s in the National Enquirer, it must be true!
So I was on my way home from Judy’s book launch Sunday, and talking to my attorney/good friend/book collector/avid reader, Don Witter, and for some reason he starts on a story about Bob Feller. Now Cleveland people know Bob Feller. I know C.R. was well aware of him and I’m certain Casey and Zorro have a spot in their heart for the man. Apparently Bob, former…( long time ago former) star pitcher for the Indians, is still alive and kicking in Cleveland at the age of 86.
It reminded me of my stint with the National Enquirer. In one twelve month period back in the late seventies, I covered five different stories for the tabloid. I’ll get into them at some later date, but the Bob Feller story made me a believer in the NE. They called me and said that Feller had stolen an airplane. Pretty big claim. You can see that headline on their front page, right?
CLEVELAND INDIANS SUPER STAR STEALS AIRPLANE
Could sell some papers. They asked me if I would drive to Cleveland and do some research. No Google back then. No computers at all. So I jumped in the car and drove to Cleveland. I went to the Plain Dealer ( newspaper) and they allowed me to do a complete search on all of their stories regarding the ace pitcher. (Morgue Mamma) Feller had a checkered past, dealing with all sorts of problems. Then I did a library search. Then a search at yet another paper. When I had all the facts, I called the Enquirer. ( Fax machines were not up to speed yet, so I overnighted the information). The NE called me the next day and said they needed two more sources. TWO MORE?
My editor said “We can’t afford to make mistakes!”
So, I found two people I could interview. Bottom line was, I can not remember the outcome. It seems to me that there was a question whether Feller had partial ownership in the plane…but I can remember visiting five, count ‘em five different sources to back up the story.
The National Enquirer doesn’t run a story unless they are 99% sure they’ve got the facts. The John Edwards story is a good example. So many people thought they’d gotten that one wrong, but they’d done the homework. While I don’t defend tabloid journalism and I understand that headlines can be somewhat misleading, the meat of the story is almost always factual. And the facts are checked again and again and again. And again and again.
And as a finale Bob Feller story…in 1948 The Indians played the Yankees in New York. The stadium was 25 years old, and they honored Babe Ruth who was dying of throat cancer. Ruth was to walk out to the field and whisper a few words, and he was unsteady as he came out of the dugout. He grabbed Bob Feller’s bat and used it as a cane to get to the pitcher’s mound. And now the last game has been played in the House That Ruth Built. Everything must come to an end.
Missing C.R.
Well, as I sat down to write my blog for the week, I realized that C.R. won’t be here this week to respond. For the past many years, C.R. always had a humorous comment on whatever I wrote about. I could always count on his comments to be fast and witty. I’ll miss him terribly. I had recently finished his latest book, and I had meant to email him to say how much I enjoyed it, but I’m sad to say that I put that off, and now I can’t.
This week has been a horrible week for Cincinnati. We lost power on Sunday afternoon due to a windstorm, the remnants of Hurricane Ike. Now of all the things I can think of, a hurricane in Ohio is about at the bottom of possibles. The storm brought 50+ mph winds and days of life without power. We lost our power (and part of our garage roof) around 2pm on Sunday. We sat outside until it got dark and then went inside and played cards by candlelight. For the record, I stink at Gin Rummy.
By Monday, we knew things were bad. No school, no work. No lights. I fortunately have 50-some books to read for the Edgar awards at the moment, so I could keep busy. I read almost all day and took care of 30-some books. (Of course, I got another 30 when UPS started running again.) By night we decided to cook out. We had chicken and potatos, in what we called an indoor camping experience.
At 4am Tuesday, the lights returned. Of course, we hadn’t bothered to turn them all out when the electricity went off, so we were immediately aware of the change. We got up and turned on all the lights in the house, just to enjoy. I have to say that running the dishwasher has never been so fun.
For the record, I’ve now read 255 books for the Edgars this year. I have another 50 to be read at this point. Phew…
Learning to Live
We’ve been thinking about death this week on The L’il Blog. We mourn our friend, C.R., and we miss him. We will miss him for a long time. Our loss makes me think about life, and living, and what it all means.
I was talking with a friend on Sunday whose wife had died from cancer. He said he came out of that experience with the idea that “through death we learn how to live.” He doesn’t mean that when we die we learn it. From what I understood he means that by losing our loved ones, we learn how to better spend our days. Those who leave us have an experience we cannot understand. Sometimes those who are on the brink of death, but survive, live the rest of their lives with a knowledge the rest of us cannot comprehend. A knowledge that helps them to see what most matters in life, and which are the things can be seen as less important. Tim McGraw, the country artist, says this when he sings, “I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying.”
C.R. was a man who understood those things. He adored his wife, his daughters, and his grandson. He lovingly cared for his parents. He spoke of his extended family and friends with kindness and gratitude. He enjoyed life to the fullest — cooking, traveling, playing with his dogs. And he loved his work. We were fortunate to hear weekly of the things that mattered most to him, and we traveled with him on his journeys, whether they were to the other side of the country with his buddies, or merely to his kitchen to paint the cabinets.
The loss of C.R. reminds me anew of what is important. Just as attending a wedding can make one appreciate anew ones marriage vows, attending a friend’s funeral can make the appreciation of life and family seem brighter and more pressing.
I’ll repeat again C.R.’s words, which he penned in his daughter’s birthday card in 1993:
“Use your gifts, and your disappointments, to make a difference in the lives of others. You will find happiness for yourself along the way. I promise.”
RIP, C.R. We will try to take your lessons to heart.
If You’re a Writer . . .
. . .or you’d like to be . . . and you live in the northeast Ohio area, you may be interested in the upcoming 25th Annual Western Reserve Writers’ Conference and Workshop scheduled for this Saturday, September 20.
The conference is being held on the campus of Lakeland Community College in Kirtland, Ohio, from 8:30 until 4:15 and will include lectures, workshops, and a book sale and signing.
The workshops include topics like Creative Nonfiction, Public Speaking, “What Editors Want in a Writer” and a session on organizing and plotting your novel by some mystery author named Casey Daniels.
Among the other presenters: Deanna Adams, a freelance writer whose work has appeared in numberous magazines and newspapers and who has written a book about the Cleveland connection to rock ‘n roll, Eli Beachy who will talk about capturing oral history, Suzanne DeGaetano who owns Mac’s Backs Books in Cleveland Heights, and Nancy Piazza, a freelance editor.
To register, call 440-525-7812 or (800)589-8520; www.lakelandcc.edu/comeduc.
Or you can email:
DeeNCR@aol.com; www.deannaadams.com.
See you there!
This week is dedicated to C.R. I am still in shock over the passing of a good friend, a great writer, and a fellow blogger. Please, keep C.R.’s family in your prayers and remember that your past deeds reflect on the present and the future.
DB
Mondays Will Never Be the Same
Well, it sure won’t be the same around here at the Lil’ Blog anymore.
Casey here, and since we’ve designated today as the official “cyber wake” for our friend and fellow blogger, CR Corwin, I guess I’ll lead off. We’ve asked you all the check in with stories and memories.
As for my own, it goes something like this:
I first met CR back when he was simply Rob Levandoski. It was before his first book was published back in ‘97 and the only thing I can think is that there must have been an article about me in one of the local papers (at the time, Rob and I lived in the same area and I was publishing romance). He called me out of the blue and we talked publishing and publishers, editors and agents.
I remembered his name and after that, I followed his career. I heard about the first three books he published under his own name: “Going to Chicago,” “Serendipity Green,” and “Fresh Eggs.” I remember hearing “Fresh Eggs” had been nominated for a Pulitzer and being blown away by Rob’s wonderful success.
Then a couple years ago, I was signing books at Buckeye Book Fair in Wooster and who should be sitting directly across from me but Rob. Only now, he was known as CR Corwin and he was there signing the first of his Morgue Mama mysteries. We caught up and I found out he’d gotten married and was living in Akron, not all that far from where I live. After that, we’d see each other at various events and we drove back and forth to signings and such together.
On those rides, he talked about his family and his plans for future books. I was looking forward to reading the Cleveland saga he was writing and his plot for the next Morgue Mama was clever and intriguing. (And by the way, if you haven’t read the Morgue Mama mysteries, do yourself a favor and pick them up.)
As you probably also learned here on the blog, CR was a heck of a nice guy. He didn’t tease Zorro (at least not too much) when Zorro lost our car keys at a signing and CR had to drive us home for our other set. And he never divulged the secret of how we were driving somewhere together (it might have been Bowling Green) and I was studiously following my mapquest directions. When the directions said “turn right,” I did, and found myself in a Kmart parking lot! He could have gotten a lot of mileage out of that one. He was nice enough to cut me some slack.
Through it all I think the think I’ll remember the most about CR is how crazy he was about his wife, Carol. Oh yeah, he joked about all the things she “made” him do around the house. But he was nuts about her, no doubt about it.
CR, we’ll miss your talent and your humor. Mondays will never be the same.
In Memory of One of Our Own
It is with great sadness that we here at the Little Blog announce the death of our friend and fellow blogger, CR Corwin. CR (who also wrote under his real name, Rob Levandoski) died on Monday from what his wife called a “massive brain aneurysm and heart attack.”
Rob’s family will receive friends on Friday from 2 to 4 pm and from 7 to 9 pm at the Waite and Son Funeral Home, 765 N. Court St, Medina, OH 44256. A celebration of Rob’s life will take place at the funeral home on Saturday at 11 am. In lieu of flowers, the family is asking for donations made to the University of Akron Foundation, Akron OH 44325-2603, for a scholarship in Rob’s name.
We here at the blog send our deepest sympathy to Rob’s wife, Carol, to his daughters and their families and to Rob’s mother, and his mother and father-in-law.
In honor of Rob’s memory, we’re suspending the blog until Monday–CR’s day to post. On that day, we ask you all to contribute your stories and memories of CR Corwin.
A New Book (and the one I should have written)
Yes, we had a fabulous signing at the new B&N in Lima, Ohio last Thursday. The store sold over 90 copies of Stuff Dreams Are Made Of, and for this town, that’s a good number. Maybe not as good as the number Judy and I sold in Findlay, Ohio, but close.
But what I celebrated this weekend was Stuff To Spy For. My publisher wants the new book turned in 12 to 14 months in advance.
And Bahama Burn Out ( the other series) releases in March of 2009, so I have to turn in the next Caribbean story next March.
Usually, writers work on a calander. As you can see, we’re a year out on any book we write. And you get used to it. What’s hot this year, you hope will be hot next year because by the time you turn in your manuscript, it won’t be published until 12 months later. However, there’s one book I should have written that would have been out in 45 days. And I could have written it in ten to twelve days. And I should have! Could have pocketed some really good money, but I just didn’t think I could pull it off.
The book’s title would have been…Sarah Palin, A Made For TV Movie. Think about the story. It’s like the movie Dave, with Kevin Klein. A guy gets thrust into the Presidency in a matter of minutes. Sarah Palin, A Made For TV Movie, would be a background of the Alaskan Governor, sprinkled with her amazing rise to national fame. And if I’d started calling publishers the day McCain announced his running mate, I’d like to think I could have sold that book. Immediately going to Google, Yahoo and all the other search engines, I would have pulled together enough information to outline the book. Using names, contacts, and other information I would have made countless phone calls for the next two days. Within three days I would have had enough raw information to write the 220 page (thin, but timely) book, and I’d take two days to clean it up. 18 hour days would have translated to I’m guessing $120,000. Not a bad week, eh?
But I didn’t. I worked on my deadline for Stuff To Spy For, which netted me much less than the fabulous Sarah Palin story. The publisher would have had the trade paper version out in 30 to 45 days, and my royalty would have added another $20 to $50,000.
Someone did exactly this. I don’t know who. C.R.? Maybe Orroz? But I’ll guarantee someone decided to bite the bullet and you’ll see the end result in a month. Could have been me…but it wasn’t.
