Hey, There's A Dead Guy in the Living Room

The Bible (Ghost Edition)

Jeff Cohen

Oh, relax. This post isn't about religion.

Having spent the past few weeks revising and then re-revising both a full-length book and a novella (don't ask), and now preparing to stare Book #6 in the Haunted Guesthouse series in the face, I have come to a really disturbing conclusion about my own mind.

I am incapable of remembering what I've written. Well, not all of it, anyway.

Now, this would not be a very serious problem at all if I'd written what we lovingly call "standalones," books that begin and end and are not intended to be continued in any way. But I don't; I write series books. So the characters and their travails are meant to go on for as long as the reading public and the publisher wish for them to do so.

Therein lies the rub, dear reader: I don't always remember what the hell I've written before. So details can get by, and when I decide to write something new, it's inconsistent with what has come before. For CHANCE OF A GHOST, the current novel, in which Alison's father re-enters her life after being dead for five years, it took a half-day of research to find out if I'd ever mentioned his name before, and if so, what it might be.

It's Jack, but that's not the point.

So in a conversation with my editor, the luminous Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, the subject of writing a bible for the series was broached.

A bible, you say? Yes. That's a term probably taken from the television industry, in which the creator of a series writes up all the relevant data about the main character, the premise, all the other charactes and any signficant events, dates, characteristics or opinions ("I hate herring!") that might become relevant, or at least should be consistent, when the next episode in the series is produced. This avoids problems like, for example, having Mr. Spock fall in love with Lt. Uhura, because he's a logical, unemotional Vulcan and that could never happen. It'd just be silly.

So a bible for the Haunted Gueshouse series seems like a very good idea. It would help to centralize all the information about Alison Kerby and her family and friends, to keep facts straight and avoid emails from angry readers (oh, you'd be amazed) who found something on p. 194 three books back that indicates Alison doesn't like to eat tuna fish sandwiches on Wednesdays. And it would help me, going forward, not say things I'll just have to rewrite once the aforementioned Ms. Jamieson Vazquez gets her hands on it, or the proofreader decides to take matters into his/her own hands.

There's just one problem: I don't want to write the bible. Not the one(s) that people like to quote chapter and verse, and not one for my own series.

First, it would require that I re-read each story I've written in the series. I know, you're saying, "Hey, you wrote them, so that's not such a chore," and "it's only four books." Well, the part about the four books forget, because there are also two novellas (one coming in October) and one more book (almost) completely done (coming November 5). So, seven stories altogether.

But the bigger problem is that I cringe at the thought of reading that much of my work all in a row. I see every tiny problem, every line of dialogue I'd write in another way now, every question I had to answer, every silly plot device I thought was a great idea at the time, and every nutty murderer I wrote who really could have solved his/her problem in some other way much more easily. (Not to be too grandiose, but) Picasso probably looked at Guernica and said, "Black and white? What was I thinking?"

Worse, that much reading, even (or perhaps especially) of my own work makes me sleepy. To be fair, if it's the right time of the day, any amount of reading will make me sleepy. About 3 in the afternoon, you can walk up to me with a STOP sign to read, and I'll nod off just before the "O".

Then there's the whole issue of writing down EVERYTHING that might eventually be relevant. How do I know what's going to be relevant two books from now? I don't. So I'll have to write down every possible detail in every sentence. Why not just keep re-reading the books? All I'll have cut out is all the "I"s and the "she said"s. 

There's a certain hubris among authors--we designed these characters, these places, these plots. We have created universes. How dare it be assumed that we can't change whatever we want? Well, it's fine when we remember what we've done before and make choices to change things given the new circumstances we conjure up. If Alison's 11-year-old daughter Melissa has a new friend, that's okay; she doesn't have to spend all her time with Wendy. But if suddenly Alison referred to her daughter as "Melinda," that would be a problem.

So I imagine the bible is an inevitability. But it's not going to happen anytime soon, trust me. Book #6 must come first. 

If I ask you what someone's name was in Book #2, just indulge me. My memory isn't what it used to be.

the Saxe Holm mystery

In the 1870s, an author called Saxe Holm published several short stories in magazines. These were generally romances between a married man and a woman not his wife, and were quite popular with readers. Before the decade was out, Scribner's published two collections of Sax Holm's Stories.

Right away, some speculated that H.H. (now known as Helen Hunt Jackson, author of Ramona and A Century of Dishonor) might be Saxe Holm, but on January 17, 1874, in the Woman's Journal, H.H. publicly denied the idea. The following month, the magazine published a letter from Celia Burleigh claiming that a schoolteacher by the name of Ruth Ellis was Saxe Holm. Two weeks later, a letter from the real Saxe Holm disputed this; Holm also wrote to Burleigh directly, sending the missive through Scribner's for authenticity. Over the next three years, at least two other women claimed to be Saxe Holm.

Then, in May 1877, the children's magazine St. Nicholas contained an autobiographical essay by Saxe Holm set in Amherst, Massachusetts, the birthplace of Helen Hunt Jackson. "Gotcha!" shouted the New York Tribune (or so I imagine). It published an article entitled "Who Saxe Holm Is" on May 12. Saxe Holm sent a refutation, published June 1, stating "Accidental coincidences of names and places are sometimes inexplicable." The newspaper disagreed.

Soon after, the mystery got even thicker. Various newspapers suggested several other possible authors behind the pseudonym, including Sarah Woolsey and Mark Twain. (The latter denied the charge, saying  "all other denials are bogus.") The case stayed open for decades.

We now know Saxe Holm was Helen Hunt Jackson all along, despite her vehement denials. She admitted as much to her husband, William S. Jackson, and to several friends and editors: Charlotte Cushman, William Ward, Edward Seymour, Moncure Conway, Thomas Wentworth Higginso, Thomas Niles, and Thomas Bailey Aldrich. She asked her her husband and Niles not to spill the beans even after she died.

Why did she protect her secret with such zeal? Perhaps, since Saxe Holm had written in a personal way about love with a married man, the author was concerned about privacy and propriety, or the feelings of those involved, or her own physical and social safety. Perhaps the Saxe Holm stories were inferior to the stories published under the names H.H. and Helen Jackson, and the author didn't want her reputation besmirched. Or perhaps the author wanted an honest critical response to some of her work, a response unhindered by her fame.

Jackson died in 1885. The true identity of Saxe Holm remained officially unknown as late as 1908, when Scribner's released a new edition of Sax Holm's Stories without naming the woman behind the pseudonym.

Just to make it even more confusing, I should note that Helen Hunt Jackson wasn't Helen Hunt Jackson, either. The author never signed herself that way in her own correspondence, and would have been appalled at the idea. She was born Helen Maria Fiske, became Helen Fiske Hunt when she married Edward Hunt in 1852, remained Helen Hunt (or H.H.) after her husband died in 1863, and became Helen Jackson when she married William S. Jackson in 1875.

She would never have used two married surnames together: she was either Helen Hunt or Helen Jackson but never Helen Hunt Jackson. Scholars have come to know her as HHJ, however, so that is what I have used. As far as I can tell, the earliest printed reference to her as "Helen Hunt Jackson" is on page 239 of Alexander Majors's Seventy Years on the Frontier, Chicago, 1893. I have found no evidence to support my theory that publishers like women authors to use three names (Frances Hodgson Burnett, Louisa May Alcott, Harriet Beecher Stowe, many more), but it's my theory nevertheless.

Further reading: letters in the Helen Hunt Jackson Papers at Colorado College Special Collections (where the author of this post is curator); Kate Phillips's Helen Hunt Jackson: A Literary Life (University of California, 2003); original newspaper and journal articles in the American Periodicals database (available at many college and university libraries).

Summer is for Reading

Marilyn Thiele

Just as the cold, wet miserable days of December and January bring us innumerable “Best Books of the Year” lists, the warm, sunny, lengthy days of May and June are filled with countless lists of suggested books for summer reading. The contrast in the weather at these two times of year may be the reason for my different reactions to each set of lists, but I think it’s more a case of regret versus possibility. When I see the lists of “best books,” I realize how many of them I have not read, or in some cases, was not even aware of. Some get added to the “to be read” list, but it is a time of year when days are too short and the primitive urge to hibernate (meaning “sleep”) is overwhelming. The lists that are appearing now evoke delight in the prospect of long days to read all the exciting new offerings.

Some of my reaction is a carryover from childhood. To this day, I feel a sense of freedom when there’s a “snow day.” Even though I can do a lot of my work at home, and the inability to get out can be irritating, I consider it a day off; I am released from responsibility through no fault of my own, just as when school was cancelled. Similarly, the start of summer brings the anticipation of long days to do as I please, and what I usually “please” is reading. The reality is a bit different, but the old emotions are still there. The phrase “triumph of hope over experience” comes to mind here.

It should come as no shock that as a child I was known as a “bookworm” (yeah, I had the glasses and the pigtails, the whole image). In those pre-air conditioning days, the best thing to do on a hot humid day was stay very still, and finding a shady spot to enjoy a good book was very sensible. The only worthwhile exertion was a trip to the library, a mile and a half away (we walked a lot in the olden days). That old stone building with its dark wood interior always seemed cool, and the pleasure of exploring the treasures was well worth the effort. I remember thinking that someday I would have read every book in the library, and there would be nothing left to read. I should have such a worry now!

Today’s reality it that summer is the busiest time of year at my shop, and the time for reading is always less than I anticipate. I usually schedule vacation at times other than summer because of the demands of those who are vacationing. Although the few weeks before Christmas are hectic, the months of June, July and August are filled with a steady stream of customers planning their vacations and the reading that goes along. Many others just take life a bit easier in the summer, when there are fewer demands from clubs and organizations or children’s extracurricular activities.  Add to that the teachers who now finally have a chance to catch up on what they’ve missed, and the students with their summer reading lists, and the shop is wonderfully full of activity. (The summer reading list phenomenon is interesting. There is a surge right now, as the lists are given to the students. The next surge will be in late August. I perceive two types of students here.) And so I dream of the summers that others are enjoying – lazy time with favorite books.

Although I know I won’t read nearly as much as I anticipate, I still have that early summer eagerness and wonder, thinking of all the possible books I can enjoy. Helping shoppers make their choices only adds to the enchantment. Both of our reading groups decided to take the summer off because of conflicting vacation schedules, and I confess to having had a sense of freedom when our last meeting ended this week. Although I always enjoy the books we choose, having to read a book by certain time slightly diminishes the pleasure. For two months, I can read what I choose and at my own pace. Ah, Summer!

I hope everyone has a wonderful summer of reading. I plan to!

Facebook Pages and Profile (and bears, oh my!)

by Erin Mitchell

Earlier this week, I had a fascinating email conversation with an author about Facebook Profiles vs. Pages. It got me thinking…

Our conversation started because this author has a Facebook Profile, but not a Page. She doesn’t use Facebook much, but she has a book out (her exceptional first novel), and so I recommended that she have a Page. Because she’s not a heavy Facebook user, I further suggested that she convert her existing Profile to a Page.

She—very smartly—ran this idea by some author friends, who were adamant that she not convert her Profile to a Page.

While I understand where these folks are coming from, I still disagree, primarily because Pages have changed pretty dramatically in recent months, and depending on how you use Facebook, having both creates more work for little or no return. The primary concern folks expressed was that Friends would be offended if her Profile suddenly became a Page to which they were automatically migrated…but the thing is, the way this process works now, the vast majority of them would never even notice.

Quick side note: The scenario I’m talking about is one where the author is question is a light Facebook user. This is not someone who already has a thriving Page or a Profile with thousands of friends. My recommendations are not necessarily applicable to every possible scenario, but I would argue that they work more often than not.

A Facebook Profile is your personal presence. For authors, your writing (that is, your product) is usually part and parcel of who you are, but chances are good that you have other things going on in your life that you keep separate from your work. And the further reality is that not everybody who reads your book is—or should be—your friend, not on social media or anywhere else. To put yourself in this position is to assume that you will never be really successful.

So…do you need a profile? No. Unless you’ve been using Facebook for a while and are comfortable there interacting with your actual friends, having a page will serve you much better. Why? Glad you asked…

Pages are two-way communication venues.

I think the people the above-mentioned author spoke with are likely unaware that the biggest recent Pages changes concern how page admins interact with the Page’s audience. People can now send a direct (private) message to the page; this functionality works exactly the same way it does on Profiles. Also, we can now respond to a specific comment on a post. Overall, this gives a Page the ability to be just as personal as a Profile.

Pages facilitate sharing.

Pages are designed to encourage sharing, and they make this easier than Profiles do (unless all your info is public within your profile, which is always a bad idea).

There’s no difference between Page and Profile posts.

Personal status updates and page updates appear exactly the same way to readers. This is why converting a Profile to a Page won’t cause offense…because nobody will notice.

Just because someone’s a friend, doesn’t mean they support your work.

This is a tricky one, but the fact is, if you have a profile and create a page then ask your friends to like said page, few will. Very few. I’m not going to guess at the psychology behind this, but I’ve seen it time and again.

Pages are mobile-friendly.

More than half of the people who use Facebook do so from a mobile device. Enough said.

Pages are not just for selling stuff.

They used to be…but they’re not now. You can still sell stuff, of course, but more often than not, pages are accommodating content of every shape and size.

As Facebook continues to evolve, I’ve started seeing more authors who have both a profile and page, and insist on posting the same stuff on both. What a waste…of their time and my attention. Drives me bonkers because it means I see every post twice. These people should definitely merge the two (which, for the record, is not an easy process, but is now possible).

Also, it’s important to remember that in terms of attracting and interacting with new readers, Pages are much easier for readers to find than Profiles. And it also means you don’t need to risk upsetting potential readers because, as the saying goes, refusal [of a friend request] often offends.

Of course many authors will continue to have both a Profile and a Page (because, you know, not everyone listens to or agrees with me). My point, though, is that particularly if you have yet to fully submerge yourself the in Facebook ocean, a Page is likely going to be a preferable vessel for you.

In other Facebook news, this week, they announced that hashtags used in posts will now be clickable. While some folks immediately got their knickers in a proverbial twist about this (Really? Have we nothing else to be outraged about?), I see this as great news for books. It means that if I do a Facebook post with a book title or author name hashtag, people can click it and see posts from other people on the same topic. Like any new functionality, this will take a while to catch on with all of Facebook’s billion users, but it will get there.

I’ve never seen Star Wars...

Lynne Patrick

That heading is, in fact, literally true – but that’s only peripherally where this post is going.

There’s a radio show over here in the UK called I’ve Never Seen Star Wars. It briefly became a TV show as well, with exactly the same premise.

A well-known person, usually a rather more interesting one than the average D-list celeb, is asked to name three things s/he has never done – and then is asked to do them, and provide his/her reaction in each case. Nothing dangerous, or even off the wall: just ordinary activities which they’ve sidestepped over the years.

Those reactions are predictably mixed. One magazine editor had never made a cake; he did so, with some success, and his kids enjoyed it. One actress had never eaten lobster; she did, and discovered there were sound reasons for avoiding it.

One TV presenter had never read The da Vinci Code, citing an acute aversion to over-hyped bestsellers as his reason; he read it, and gratifyingly, reacted pretty much as I did, which could be why I remember that episode so vividly. He said he couldn’t stop reading; it was a terrific page-turner. But after he’d finished it, he felt very uncomfortable about having devoted so many hours to such... yes, well, I’ll leave you to fill in your own description.

And there endeth the preamble. Now you can see where this is going, can’t you?

There are lots of crime writers whose work I’ve never read. Lots whose work I have read too, witnessed by the fact that husband is, at this very moment, ordering a new wall-full of flatpack bookshelves to accommodate the overspill which has been accumulating for weeks. But probably far more I’ve never even sampled.

And quite a few I’ve dipped into, and dipped straight out again.

This isn’t take-a-pop-at-authors-I-don’t-like time, any more than the radio show is about pouring scorn on popular films. I know it’s all a matter of taste.

But try as I might, I can’t work out why I’m fine with some renditions of blood, gore and excessive violence and not with others.

Or why, since I can’t connect with Scandinavian or Italian cops, it was love at first reading with a French one the other week, and I’m instantly at home with most things American.

And why it is that, though character comes first with me, and watching a series character grow, develop and have a life is my greatest reading pleasure – I just adore Jack Reacher, who goes from book to book, adventure to adventure, unchanged and never moves on in any sense other than geographical.

I try to give every book I pick up the 50-page test, but when the first 30 contain two brutal murders, a lot of graphic bad-guy-induced agony and a pointless car chase that wreaks havoc through the middle of a small, peaceful town I don’t always make it. On the other hand, an elaborate reconstruction of a mediaeval torture instrument used to wreak a terrible revenge held me riveted.

I really did try with Sweden and Sicily, but nothing struck any chords.

And Jack. I was hooked from the outset, and I didn’t even start with the first in the series.

These are just examples, of course. I must have said many times right here in this blog that I’m a sucker for great writing, but as long as the prose doesn’t clunk along at snail’s pace or contain so many glitches or clumsinesses that I can’t see anything else – neither of which happens often, since commissioning editors are mostly as picky as I am – I don’t usually have a problem getting into the story. And as I said the other week, a gripping story is half of what it’s about for me. For much the same reason vis à vis commissioning editors, there’s usually a character I can empathize with, which takes care of my other main reading criterion.

So why some books and not others?

Now, that really is a mystery.

Guest Post--Classics, Inc.

(NOTE FROM JOSH: I was sitting down to write this evening when the Boy, two days done with Middle School but not yet a Freshman, tells me to step aside. “You’re tired,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

Clearly he has been. And he’s not shy about discussing it. I hope I miss the train to Weenieville.

JG)

Classics, Inc.

By Joe Newman-Getzler

                What is a “classic”? Depending on whom you ask the answers could vary wildly. For some, a classic could be a book like Murder on the Orient Express, a movie like Casablanca, or a song like “Let It Be”. To others, a classic could be a book like Diary of a Wimpy Kid, a movie like Johnny Dangerously, or a song like “Boom! Shake the Room." This need not only apply to books. The term “classic” can also be applied to anything from a good joke to a memorable sports play. But what, indeed, is a classic? And how does it unify these many different things?

                To most people, a classic is merely a thing that stays in their head for a long time, usually for a positive reason. But to some, the name goes much deeper than that. A classic means a piece of cultural significance, something considered a great thing that all should love and cherish for its greatness. Typically, there is a predetermined set of “classics” for any kind of genre or type. For example, if you want a “classic” book, the names that’ll probably come up would be books like Animal Farm, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, or Gone with the Wind. A “classic” movie? You’d probably see names like Citizen Kane, Some Like it Hot, or Singin’ in the Rain. But should we have our classics defined for us? Or should we form our own opinions on what is classic and what’s not?

                This is a question that has been troubling me for a while now: what’s a classic and what’s not? The reason this has been rumbling through my mind is because lately I have been trying to give myself a “classical” film and literary experience. Summer’s just begun, and now that I have gobs upon gobs of time to spend, I want to fill them with great books and great movies. For the former, my family has been supplying me with tons of great books like To Kill a Mockingbird and The Catcher in the Rye. And yes, they are great. But I will admit, my standards for classics are pretty low. The whole school year was peppered with classic books in my English class, like The Woman Warrior, The Chosen, Animal Farm, you name it. But my ideas of classics are Dave Barry is Not Making This Up, Bugs Bunny: 50 Years and Only One Gray Hare, and There Is No Dog. And yet, Mom and Dad say not to read those over and over. Read The Hobbit. Come on! It’s only 500 pages long, you wuss!

                Movies are another area of “classics” that drive me crazy, though for a different reason. While I would consider myself a rather decent film lover, there are still so many movies I haven’t seen that I feel pressured by myself to watch. Seriously?, I ask myself. You haven’t seen Citizen Kane? Jaws? The Dark Knight? You, sir, are on the train straight to Weenieville. And even my gym teacher’s let into me about my lack of film exposure: he spent 10 minutes telling me how I simply must watch The Empire Strikes Back in order to truly deem myself a Star Wars fan (BTW, I’ve only seen A New Hope and Return of the Jedi. That fact led to not only the aforementioned monologue, but another about how I should watch the prequels because, yeah, they suck, but I MUST have the complete Star Wars experience.) And yet, I also feel that there are a great many films that I truly love and yet many don’t even think of in the same league as “classics.” Seriously, does nobody but me consider UHF a classic? Charlie and the Chocolate Factory better than the Gene Wilder one? I feel so lonely.

                It’s times like this when I start to think about how subjective a term “classic” is. Can only what has been previously called a classic be a classic? Can others come up with their own “classic” films to share with the world? That is my hope. While, naturally, classic books and movies are to be revered and respected, they aren’t the only good books and movies out there! I wish more people would realize that. And YES, I am going to watch The Empire Strikes Back this summer. But the prequels? Hmm. Maybe. But for now…keep on readin’.                                                                                                    

All A-Twitter

Jeff Cohen

This is NOT an attempt to step on Erin's feet. I am by no means an expert in publicity or promotion, as is evidenced by the fact that you probably stumbled on this post by accident, or because you've read one of Josh's or Lynne's (or any of the other brilliant bloggers' here) posts and just kept coming back.

But for the past 10 years or so, since I've been a published author, I've observed other published authors, both more financially successful and about the same as myself. And one of the key things I've noticed is that these days (and this will come as news to absolutely no one), an author must have an online presence to establish his/herself in the minds of readers.

And that, after a while, leads to Twitter.

The 140-character sensation/punchline/end-of-civilization-as-we-know-it is both a potential boon to writers and an equally likely downfall wrapped in chocolate. For an author hoping to become better known among readers, Twitter offers virtually unlimited promotional opportunities. It has a number of drawbacks as well, including the fact that only those who already know about the author are likely to "follow" the Twitter feed of that writer to begin with. 

I'll leave it up to Erin to explain how a writer might go about building his/her number of Twitter followers, and whether she thinks it's a good idea (okay, Erin?). I have about 1000 followers, which is the Twitter equivalent of going out to a restaurant and reserving a table for one. But I will note a few observations on what you might want to include in your (and I grimace even as I use the word) tweets:

1. Don't always be tweeting about your book. This is the equivalent of never updating your Facebook status except to say that people should purchase a copy of your latest tome. It becomes annoying so fast that you'll lose followers quickly, and frankly, nobody's going to buy your book based on a 140-character pitch anyway. 

2. Don't tweet as your character. That's so cutesy it's probably illegal to do without actually dispensing insulin to your followers. And, it comes across as violating Rule #1.

3. If you write under a pseudonym, tweet under the pseudonym. I write both ways, so I have one account as myself, and one as E.J. Copperman. E.J., despite having a huge lead in Facebook friends, enjoys far fewer Twitter followers than I have. One possible reason: E.J. often violates Rule #1, and doesn't tweet very often at all, thereby killing any potential momentum. (We are falling here into "do as I say, not as I do" territory.) I never claimed to be an expert. On anything.

4. Tweet often, but not every minute. It's a delicate balance. Authors who don't go on Twitter more than once a month and then tweet something like, "Buy my book" are asking for failure. On the other hand, authors who tweet--about anything--every few minutes and won't leave their followers alone run the risk of becoming annoying. Risk? Ha! They'll definitely become annoying.

5. Definitely retweet others, but only when you like what they said. Twitter is about social networking and having a conversation, not just about you. So when you think someone else--even, yes, a competing author--says something you think is witty, or true, or simply worth repeating, hit the "retweet" button. It costs you nothing. However, just retweeting random comments so you can show someone more famous is following you is just a way of showing off and will not impress anybody, since they're probably being followed by the President. In more ways than one. Which leads me to...

6. Give serious thought before tweeting anything about politics or religion. And then, probably don't do it. I understand the temptation, believe me. My blood boils at the same temperature as yours, and I have not been 100% perfect on this score myself. But it does you no good in the popularity annals, and strikingly, the world remains largely unchanged despite your pontification.

7. Don't expect Twitter to make you famous. Unless you're the Bronx Zoo Cobra, it's highly unlikely that any social network alone will turn you into an overnight sensation. Those who have gained unusual levels of fame through what they tweet or post on Facebook would probably love to have back the second before they hit the "Send" button (ask Anthony Weiner). What Twitter or anything else online can do for you is raise your profile a little, get out news when there's news to get out, and maybe provide a little communication between you and your readers, which is almost never a bad thing. So get out there and (you should pardon the expression) tweet!

But don't ask me to explain that thing on Fridays where people just tweet lists of other people's Twitter names. I think it's sweet when someone includes me, but I haven't a clue what it's all about.

 

Jon Stewart will return to The Daily Show in 85 days.

Gone Girl and The Dinner

Jessy Randall

I know I'm a bit late to the party on Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl, but wow, what a terrific read. And Herman Koch's The Dinner is just as good, if not quite as ridiculously bestselling (though still doing very, very well). Both of these books are elegant and literary without losing a bit of the fun of a popular mystery novel.

I read them in the same week, by chance; I recommend you do the same, on purpose. Both books have untrustworthy narrators, people who are holding back some of what they know or maybe even lying. Both books have narrators who betray themselves slowly but surely as they tell their stories. Both have strangely likable yet morally despicable narrators (though I must confess I despised the narrator of Gone Girl so much at the start that I put the book down, only to take it up again months later -- it turned out the author knew what she was doing the whole time). Reading these two books in close succession adds to the experience of each.

 

Some Details Still Devil Me

Marilyn Thiele

Reading Lynne Patrick’s post The devil’s in the details earlier this week reminded me again how much she and I think alike. I am neither a writer nor an editor, merely a reader and a bookseller, but I am sometimes as troubled as she by the jolt one receives when an inconsistency interrupts the flow of a narrative. I had been thinking about the editing (or lack thereof) in the process of bringing books to market because while on vacation I thought I had found another example of carelessness in a book I was reading during my few quiet moments in an active visit to the UK. More about that book later.

As a bookseller, I am frequently asked to “look at” books by self-published authors with an eye to displaying them in my shop and recommending them to customers. This post is not about the issues and value of self-publishing, but in these cases I have come to expect inconsistencies and confusing exposition. I am actually surprised when the grammar and spelling is somewhat correct. It is when I find errors in works by bestselling authors produced by major publishing houses that I wonder if anyone other than the author read the book before it went to press.

Three examples are memorable enough to have stayed with me for several years. In a book by a British author of several series focused on small villages where there is an inordinate amount of crime, an older woman witnesses a murder. Her distress, compounded by the necessity of reliving it during police questioning, leaves her too flustered to drive home. Her son, who has arrived to assist her, drives her home and says they will get her car the following day. The next morning, she arises, dresses, and trots out to her car, off to begin her amateur sleuthing.

The first of a new series by an American author famous for two previous series, had a character named “George” who appeared somewhere around Page 70. As I read, he seemed awfully familiar; in fact, he seemed to be awfully like “Harry,” who had been involved since the beginning of the book. A lot of page flipping and rereading led to the realization that the character’s name had been changed with no warning. And no, these weren’t aristocrats or Russians with multiple names; just plain old Americans with one first and one last name. It appeared that the author had renamed his character, but forgot to go back to his earlier chapters. The book was written in the mid-1990’s, but even then word processors had global change capabilities.

The third instance is from a book by an author whose work is always on the bestseller list shortly after release, and who has grown in popularity with each book. Her series character is a medical examiner. The plotting and characterization are excellent, but the scene which remains most in my mind is one in which the protagonist is preparing to do an autopsy. She reflects with sadness on the youth and good looks of the murder victim as he lies naked on the table. But to work! She begins with scissors, cutting off his jeans and shirt.

I can understand how these errors in detail can slip in when an author is focused on the larger plot. I have even wondered if some came in during a revision process, when the earlier event (leaving the car at the murder scene) is forgotten when making the morning scene move at a faster pace. The “fresh eye” may be necessary not only after the author completes the work for submission, but again after the final edits are theoretically complete. The author of the book with the autopsy scene credits several friends with helping her edit the book; if the error slipped in later, perhaps the publisher needs to have someone unfamiliar with the work give it one last read. I understand that there are people assigned during filmmaking to be sure that clothing, hair styles, and other details are consistent from scene to scene; the publishing industry needs to define a similar role in the editing process.

None of these errors is catastrophic; they do not affect the events of the plot in any serious way. I do not find myself looking for more errors as I read on. But, for me at least, there appears to be a longer term effect. In preparing to write about these inconsistencies that have stayed in my memory, I decided to go back to my list of books I have read. I have been keeping this list for over twenty years, mostly to prevent the disaster of getting part way through a book, realizing I have read it before, and not having another one available. I was looking for the dates when I had read these books. What I found was even more interesting. In all three cases, these books were the last I had read by the author. This was not a conscious decision; I at no time felt that the error was so egregious that I would never read another book by that person. In fact, all three are writers whose work I like. But somewhere some credibility was lost, and when choosing from the multitude of unread mysteries on my shelves, I chose others. Subconsciously, I did not want to be annoyed again.

And now a warning, largely to myself. If something looks like an error, be sure it is. As I was reading a book by one of my favorite authors, saved up as a treat for vacation, I found a series of five sentences that I was sure I had already read. Did I put my bookmark in the wrong place? Had I forgotten what I read before I fell asleep last night? No, there were the same five sentences, seven pages earlier. They were great sentences, expressing a mood and a silent communication succinctly and clearly. Had the author forgotten he had already used them in another situation? In only seven pages? Did the editing process fail again? Was this to be my last book by this author, now relegated to the bottom of the pile by my subconscious? I read on. The same five sentences were in the concluding paragraphs of the book. Only then did I get the point the author was making. My mistake, not his. Thank goodness.

Greetings from The South

by Erin Mitchell

We’ve all, at one time or another, looked down our collective noses at Florida. Yes, even those of us who live here. After all, from botched elections to some of the world’s most spectacularly stupid criminals—not to mention being God’s Waiting Room—Florida provides plenty of fodder, especially if you happen to reside in New York or New Jersey.

And Montana? Oh yeah…that place where just about everyone is addicted to meth? Sure, you’ve pooh-poohed the state wholesale.

But here’s the thing:

Chances are good that Florida has more bookstores per capita than wherever you live. And Montana definitely does.

New York and Florida have roughly the same population, 19 million and change. But Florida has 797 bookstores; New York has a mere 505. That means that when sorted per capita, Florida is number 29 on the list, while New York languishes at 49. And New Jersey? I love y’all, but you’re dead last. Massachusetts is home to some of my favorite people on the planet, but also houses some of the snootiest folks I’ve ever met. The next time I encounter one, I will revel in telling her that they’re a lowly 45 on the list.

But what, other than an insatiable need to gloat, is my point? Just this: When you discount readers because of their geographic location, you make a huge mistake. I’m not saying every author on the planet should include Montana, Wyoming, and Vermont on his or her tour schedule, but don’t assume that people in Alabama, Nebraska, or Kansas can’t or don’t buy books—and read them. And, for that matter, talk to their friends about them.

Americans have a singular need to feel and express pride in their place of residence, often at the expense of other places. It’s bad enough that so few of us own passports and even fewer of us use them; too often, we have a cultural need to big our place up by putting others down, and in so doing, we engender and perpetuate misunderstanding and misinformation.

I live in St. Petersburg, Florida, population 245,000. There’s an independent bookstore within a short walk of my front door. Within three miles, there are another three, two indies and one Barnes & Noble. Each time I visit these stores, I am not alone. I see people ranging in age and socioeconomic background. Some are browsing and some are buying. But they are all—every one of them—interested in books.

And about those old farts… I find I’m often met with resistance when I suggest to authors they should visit Florida specifically to meet The Olds. When it comes to books, these folks should not be The Marketing Department’s castoffs. These are people who read voraciously. They talk about what they read. They visit stores and libraries. They are even—gasp!—on social media (seriously…have you heard of Silver Surfers?).

So to summarize: The next time you look down your nose from your high horse at Florida (or Montana or Arkansas or, hell, just about anywhere other than New York or New Jersey), remember that you’re insulting your people. Your readers. We might not be as shiny as y’all, but we buy books.