Murder She Writes

I’m one of those people who like to have nice things in an orderly setting around them. I feel good when things around me trigger my senses. I think it’s one of the reasons I enjoy cooking and drinking nice wine. It carries over to my office.
My office is my sanctuary.
It always has been. Before we moved to the house we’re in now my office was less then a mile from my house. I owned, and still do own my business and getting out of the house for me and going to work was bliss. I also did a lot of writing at the business office. I had a great assistant who now runs that office completely. When we moved to our current house 50 miles from where we lived, I had a choice. Commute or get an office out here. I went with the office out here. I needed ambiance. So I had it painted in a Tuscan style. I hung my pen and ink paintings of sexy Mardi Gras ladies, lots of plants, including orchids filled the two rooms, and I lined my bookshelves two and three deep. I loved going to my office to write. The other really great thing was, hubby rented the office next to mine. So for years we enjoyed the camaraderie. When hubby moved his office back to the house last summer I found myself staying home and writing. My business suffered. I had to make another decision. I turned 99% of my business over to my trusty manager and closed down my office the end of January. My youngest daughter moved out the end of February. Two days later my awesome painter Adam arrived and created my bliss. Adam crackle painted the main wall a deep pomegranate with a black background. He put up a chair rail and painted the same crackle paint below and a rustic Tuscan flavor on the top half of three walls. It’s a deep passionate color. I ordered a black carved desk with hints of gold antiquing and a matching shelf unit. On the shelves I have heavy red marble heart book ends holding two copies of THE HARD STUFF together. I have a matching red marble heart paper weights on my desk, along with deep red stressed leather desk accessories. My laptop sits on my desk, and in the large walk in closet I have my copier, printer, file cabinets and other office necessities. I have both of my covers framed and hanging on the wall behind me, and a framed picture of my four children to the left of me.
I also made sure when I arranged my furniture and desk I did it observing the bagua map of feng shui. I have a small television on the shelving unit in front of my desk and also a small stereo system so I can listen to my mood music while I write. I have a large bronzed pedestal with a psycho rhododendron on top. The leaves trail half way across the room. I also have several other plants growing like weeds. The sun is perfect and everything grows in this room. My desk for now isn’t cluttered. I don’t like clutter on my desk, although I will admit to a few piles. It’s easy for me to take the clutter, shove it in the walk in closet, and close the door. My cat lays sunning himself in the window most mornings when I’m in here, and my girls lay in the streaks of sunlight on the carpet in front of my desk. I think I’m either going to get a small aquarium for the empty corner or maybe a relaxing fountain. I’ll probably go with the fish. The biggest draw back to having my office upstairs is that I have to constantly run up and down for coffee. I guess I should be grateful for the daily cardio workout.
So am I the only freak here? Who else has peace and tranquility in their writing space?

My office is temporary. After I gave birth to Brennan #5 in June of 2004, I lost my den. It had a door. It had a wall full of bookshelves. It had a big desk built into the wall that was perfect for stuff. (And lots of it.) But three kids to a room wasn’t going to cut it, so (sniff-sniff) I sacrificed my office and moved into the living room.

I should say that we never used the living room. It had the piano I never play anymore (which is now in my bedroom), a lounge chair (also in the bedroom) and a couch (still in the living room.)

Now, the living room is my office. My bookshelves came with me–I also did a major purging and gave away boxes of books I knew I’d never read again (not because they were bad but because I rarely re-read books.) My five bookshelves were organized when I moved from my den to the living room. 1) political and history books; 2) classics, westerns, child rearing, anthologies, and books I borrowed from my mom that I have to return; 3) hardcover fiction, in alphabetical order; 4) paperbacks (2-deep); 5) research books and paperwork.

Okay, my bookshelves aren’t organized anymore. Alphabetical? Ha. Everything is 2-deep, with books stacked on top of books and on top of the bookshelves where I also store supplies I don’t want the kids getting into. Paperwork? All over the place (wherever it’ll fit.) I also have all the pictures of the kids that used to be in my old office in the Capitol gracing the shelves. I can only actually see two of the fifteen or so frames because my books have, um, procreated

Solution: I need more bookshelves

My desk itself is very small. It has a scanner and computer monitor on it. I NEVER use the scanner, but my husband does. (Oh, did I mention I have to share this space with my hubby?) Hubby is the kind of guy who organizes his desk before he leaves from work. Clears off paper, files, etc. I’m the kind of gal who puts things ON her desk when she leaves from work (when I used to work out of the house) so that when I got in the next morning I would remember what I needed to get done. Needless to say, this arrangement is not going to last forever.

Right now, I have my daughter’s homework, my day planner, bills that need paying, the book MARLEY & ME, and a pile of print-outs like the lastest romance Bookscan list, the print-outs from the NYT extended list (when I was on it) and news articles that captured my interest because I might need them for research some day. When the stack gets too big, I usually sort through it and add to the piles of paperwork in my bookshelves, and maybe even throw a few sheets away

I have a filing cabinet next to my desk where the printer sits. The filing cabinent is for Important Documents. Like contracts, birth certificates, copies of tax returns. Needless to say, it is rarely opened.

And there’s toys on the floor, kids books stacked in the corner, and a slide in the middle of the room. The dining room table in the adjoining dining room has my laptop and more stacks of paper (when the stack on my desk gets too big, my husband moves it to the dining table. Did I tell you I really want my own space?) My dog sleeps under the desk when I’m working, and my cat sleeps on the couch behind me. Or the floor. Or the dining table on top of My Stuff.

My favorite thing in my office is on the wall above my desk: my husband enlarged my three book covers and framed them.

We’ve outgrown our house and have been looking around, but realized that there is NO WAY we can move until I turn in the last book of my contract, right before Christmas. And moving at Christmas? Don’t think so. So we’re going to start looking at the beginning of next year. My dream office . . .

. . . Will be called the library.

. . . Will have built-in bookshelves on three walls. One of those walls will include a fireplace; one of those walls will include two or three windows with window seats. I want tall ceilings so I can get one of those cool ladders on wheels in order to read the books on the top couple shelves The bookshelves will all be cabineted below so I can put paperwork in without being seen. I want lots of cabinets so I don’t have to organize things to fit. I know where everything is. I’ve never lost anything important, and my husband the neat freak can NEVER find his keys or wallet.

. . . Will have two love seats for reading, talking and thinking.

. . . Will have a huge, flat desk. Lots of space. Lots of space for MY STUFF. The desk will also have my computer with a flat screen monitor. Scanner and printer? They’ll be Somewhere Else. Like hidden in the bookshelves (gotta love networks.)

. . . Will have my framed book covers on the one wall without bookshelves. I hope there will be many, but right now I’m only counting on the six that I know I’ll have.

And, my dream space will have a door.

We can all dream, right?

I have two work spaces, one just as cluttered as the other. My favorite is the office in my home. It’s a room adjacent to my bedroom and master bath, and it’s an ‘enter at your own risk’ space that I treasure. My desk is L shaped, with a printer, scanner, in-basket, bucket of Dum-Dum suckers, and computer tower sitting on the short section of the L. The longer section holds the computer monitor, keyboard, and stacks of paperwork that consist of ‘working on now’ piles, ‘this looks interesting’ piles, and ‘get to it later’ piles. There’s a filing cabinet beneath the desk that’s chocked full of research papers, pens, wayward paperclips, and floppy discs.

Five windows take up much of the wall space in the room. Tucked in between those windows are two, six by eight foot bookshelves, both overflowing with books. You can tell at one time my intention was to maintain order because a few books are actually in alphabetical order by author. However, the bigger my collection grew the more disorderly it got—and remains. The shelves won’t hold any more, so stacks of books cover some of the floor and the bench seat that sits below one of the windows.

On the wall behind me are some of my favorite pictures, actors, actresses, and authors I’ve been fortunate enough to be photographed with… Sandra Brown, Peter Straub, Dean Koontz, Nora Roberts, Elizabeth George, James Patterson, James Lee Burke, Mary Higgins Clark, Alice Cooper, D.L. Menard, Linda Blair (Exorcist), Doug Bradley (Pinhead from Hellraisers), and Dee Wallace (E.T. phone home!). Along the right wall is a credenza with more paperwork, pictures of family and friends, a full size replica of Chucky, the Bride of Chucky, a smaller version of Leatherface (Texas-Chainsaw Massacre), a three-foot tall Frankenstein, and wolf statues in just about every pose. (All of these wacko items were given to me by friends.)

Near the doorway is a Gazelle, which I use when I’m stumped on a scene, so it sort of fills two roles—exercise machine and think-tank. Without it, my butt would probably be the size of New Jersey.

My other work space is much more boring. It’s my office, at the office. No Chucky dolls in this room, just mounds of paperwork, filing cabinets, a conference table with four chairs, and a large mahogany desk. The desk is really too big. It was a gift from a business associate, and all it’s really good for is collecting more paperwork. The only space I really need to work is one wide enough to hold a keyboard…like now. Every other inch of this monstrosity just holds more friggin’ paper, files, pens, empty coffee cups, half empty bottles of Dasani, a bag of sugar-free Life Saver Sorbets, two bottles of vitamins that have been sitting here for five months and that I forget to take, and a bag of carrots, which I brought to work with me this morning.

Like I said, both spaces are cluttered, but it’s organized clutter. I can find just about anything I’m looking for without a problem. . . . except my damn car keys.

Okay, what’s in my writing space? Good question. Right now, not too much, because my young daughter came over to hug me good night and knocked over the Coke I had sitting on the side of my keyboard.

Yes, I know. Bad Natalie. Bad to have drink at keyboard. I KNOW. But hell, I pretty much live here. Do you want me to DIE of deprivation? Sheesh.

After we cleaned up that mess, I actually thanked her, because my writing desk looks a lot cleaner….For a minute.

I no longer write my novels at my PC, because I bought a laptop, and I don’t have wireless in my house, even though I DO have it on my laptop, and so when I need to write, uninterrupted, I go to the laptop. Turns out I am easily led astray. I didn’t realize how much time I was wasting. I do much better when the EVIL INTERNET is not tempting me. Since I pretty much work nonstop from dusk to dawn, it helps not to have distractions.

Please do not tell me that I could simply not CONNECT to the Internet and all would be well. I would NOT be happy to hear that.

Where was I? Oh yes, the writing space. Clean. Did I mention clean? Well, sort of. Up on top is an accordion desk organizer filled with my book contracts and it looks like a lot of other sh…er, stuff, that probably shouldn’t be there. I have some sort of manuscript sitting on top of my scanner, and I guess I better check it out soon, to make sure it isn’t something I was supposed to read YESTERDAY.

I have the solo schedules for Dancing Daughter’s competitions on the left hand side, tucked in neatly… Okay, not neatly. Just kinda shoved in there, but I can find them okay. Her scoring sheets from the last few competitions are there, too. She is having a hard time understanding why she does not always win in the professional division, when she almost ALWAYS won in Intermediate and before that Beginning. Hello? Common sense? The weak ones are weeded out on the way up. Still, at 11, that’s hard to understand. Last place in Professional is not an insult. The bad part, of course, is that her good friend, Dancing Friend, a beautiful and extremely talented dancer, usually DOES win. Good thing we love her, and she is so sweet. Rarely do you see a child this age with so much talent. I try to tell Dancing Daughter she is well-rounded, which is true. She can sing. She can dance professionally. She can act. She is a 4.0 student. What more does one want? Erk. I think I got off track here…

Boy, this desk is clean.

On top of my computer desk, I have a Beanie Baby, Iggy the Iguana. At least I think that’s his name, since his tag is long gone. I used to pet him, oh so long ago, and tell him he was mascot, and that he was GOING to see me published. He has been on my desk about eight years now. You were slow, Iggy, but you came through….

I have a Christian Calendar here, and some old checkbooks I need to figure out what to do with. A rolodex I use on occasion. A bunch of tiny stuffed animals my children have given me as gifts for various occasions.

And, of course, The English Bible, otherwise known as The Chicago Manual of Style. An Oxford American Dictionary. Elements of Style.

And lastly, a copy of the poem Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night by Dylan Thomas. Awesome poem. Personal relevance.

And that’s what you can expect from the desk of Natalie R. Collins.

1  1

Happy Monday! Question of the Week—What is on our Writing Desk?

But first I have a question for you all: My husband came home from work last week and said, “I hear you like Matthew McConaughey.”

I tried to look innocent, and said, “Have you been reading my blog?”

“Nope, I just heard.”

So here’s my question—Which on of you ratted me out? Natalie, was it you? Okay, I know he’s reading the blog (Hi Honey, just kidding about Matthew McConaughey—you’re the only man for me!)

Anyway, this weekend, we went to see FAILURE TO LAUNCH with Matthew McConaughey. It’s official, I have a crush on him but don’t tell my husband!

Right. Back to the question. What’s on my writing desk?

My writing space is in our formal dining room. We never use a formal dining room so we set up my office in there so I could keep an eye on the kids. It’s actually worked out really well. I can do laundry, watch dinner cooking, keep an eye on the chaos of three boys while writing. Now that they are growing up, I don’t really need be around, but I think it’d be really hard to adjust to an office upstairs instead of in the dining room.

So I have a monster oak desk, a filing cabinet and bookshelves. I have a window to my left that looks out to a side yard and a hill. The birds play on the hill quite a bit. There used to be a beautiful tree there until a high wind knocked it over RIGHT INTO MY WINDOW! Thankfully the window didn’t break and my heart eventually started beating again. I also have a blue chair where my sons or husband plop down to chat with me.

I snarl. They laugh. Then they make me laugh. It’s a wonder I get any work done!

My desk itself faces a while wall. That’s it. I either stare at the wall or out the window, trying to blank my mind to make room for the characters and their stories.

On my desk I have a computer (duh). I keep a binder for my website (I do my own website). I have a vase full of roses because my local RWA chapter gives out a silk rose for every sale. I have a Rolodex that reflects my obsessive need to organize.

The fun stuff on my desk: I have a little guy with a hole in his mouth for a pencil that my son made in school. I love him. I also have a bobble head of a Boxer (the dog) with wings that reminds me of my first dog Duke. I have picture of my three sons, and on top of the Credenza of my desk I have all my hard back books. My husband brings me home a bookstand every time a new book comes out.

On my bookcase I have some pottery pieces that another one of my sons made that I use as bookends. I have a couple pictures of my husband and me, I have an adorable porcelain dog that my aunt recently gave me that I will cherish forever.

Oh and I have my boyfriend, Frank. I LOVE Frank. He sings “Wild Thing” to me. (You can see more about Frank over at my blog Jen’s Attic ) I also have some awards on a side wall and on my bookshelf.

I have one drawer where I keep all my works in progress. I take it out while I’m working, then stack it all back in there when I’m done for the day. I don’t like clutter, however in my “writing process” I free write endlessly on regular notebook paper (which creates clutter). Every couple weeks, I sort through those, keeping the ones that make sense and throwing away the ones that are full of stupid ideas. I do use a yellow pad too, but I like the loose sheets of notebook paper because it feels like doodling, instead of permanent notes. A lot of my notes are just random ideas or lists. When I make revisions notes, those go in the yellow notepad. Then I always have stacks of printed emails from brainstorming, printed research and various other stuff that I might need in my book.

All of it must go in the drawer. If it’s not fitting, then I have to clean the drawer.

So there you are. My boring desk and workspace. And not one picture of Matthew McConaughey but two pictures of me and my husband!

Just wanted to let any Utah readers know that I’ll be signing books today, from 2-5, at the Layton Hills Barnes and Noble, 1780 N. Woodland Park Drive, Layton, Utah 84041. Telephone, 773-9973.

If anyone is in the area, I’d love to visit with you.

After not getting anywhere writing the books of my heart, I wrote the book of my smarts. I took a look at my strengths: cops who mix up quick dialogue and passionate love scenes, then looked at what sub genres were hot. And where my natural talents would fit in best Voila. Erotic romance. For me, more specifically, erotic suspense.
I also decided that all the rules were going out the window, and my characters were going to drive the story, and more importantly, I was going to allow my natural voice write it.
I fought it a few times, second guessing myself, my characters and the plot, but I pushed back and let it all hang out.

I knew when I wrote STAKEOUT it would sell. I also knew I’d have to continue writing erotic stories to get name recognition. Basically, what I did was make a business plan around a specific genre and stuck to it
Because the world of publishing is a business first and foremost. And I’m a business woman who happens to love to write sexy stories. Hot cops if you will.
My first love is romantic suspense. In fact my editor told me GGGB was too suspenseful, and reminded me it was an erotic romance. I needed to cut subplots and key in on what the story was about: the relationship between my hero and heroine. I’m working on that now and have to say I’m enjoying the story more because for me, it is always about the characters and their journey.
So there is the short version of hw I came to write my first story to sell. If I were 100% feeling better I’d blather on, but as it is, I’m not quite there yet, so sorry for the abbreviated version.
But, before I bid adieu, how many of you made your story part of a business plan? What drove you to write your first published story? Or what story do you currently have in your repertoire that you know is the one?

I sold my fifth completed manuscript. I knew it was it before I typed The End.

I had started writing THE PREY when I was on maternity leave with my son in 2001, the year before I “got serious” about writing. I never finished it because the hero and heroine didn’t work. Well, there were probably lots of other reasons like I’d never finished any of the hundreds of books I’d started, but at least I knew exactly what had bored me about this one.

But I loved the idea. I originally came up with the premise for THE PREY when I read an article about a father who murdered his family, then himself. While this is not an uncommon occurence, what struck me in particular about this article was that the friends, neighbors, pastor, employer were all universally shocked. He was the nicest man, they couldn’t believe he’d done it. There were no financial problems, nothing that pointed to a reason.

We all look for reasons in tragedy. I started looking.

And then I played what if. What if one of the children survived? What would she be like? Who would she grow up to be? How would this tragedy effect her?

At the same time, I had a completely separate idea for another book. I thought it would be creepy to have a writer who penned violent murder mysteries be stalked by someone taking their fictional crimes and making them real. I originally pictured a quiet, introverted writer, a recluse, who lived on the beach. Then I started thinking why? Why did she start writing murder mysteries? What’s her background? Why is someone stalking her?

Then my brain connected–the two stories sort of slammed together and Rowan Smith, the heroine of THE PREY, was born.

Fast forward two years. It’s the summer of 2003 and there’s this contest I wanted to enter, the Indiana Golden Opportunity contest. They had a mainstream category, and my books just weren’t doing well in romantic suspense. I started looking over my manuscripts (complete and incomplete) and stumbled across this nearly 300 page (single spaced) montrosity in my computer. I started reading it and cringed. It was awful. Except . . . that first chapter was really good, and the premise was good, and I remembered how excited I was when I came up with the idea, and I now had some knowledge about how to put together a story . . . I deleted everything (yes, well over 250 pages) except the first two chapters.

I wrote about a hundred pages and stopped, cleaned it up, and entered the first three chapters in the IGO contest. I wrote a synopsis that was awful (and nothing like the book ended up) and then promptly forgot about that book. I started writing a futuristic which I finished in seven weeks and still love.

Then I finaled in the contest.

I also had met an agent who I’d pitched my futuristic to, as well as this unfinished suspense. She had me send her the full futuristic and a partial on the suspense. She rejected the futuristic (too science fiction for her) but asked for the full of the suspense because she really liked it.

So . . . I dove back into the book. And when I did, I saw the allure of the story. I realized that THIS WAS IT. This was the book I was going to sell.

I can’t tell you exactly WHY I knew it. True, my technical writing skills were much improved, my storytelling ability was better, but there was something about this story . . .

And then I realized it. Voice. I had discovered my voice.

For four books (yes, even my beloved futuristic) I had forced my voice. I actually had a DIFFERENT voice in my head as I wrote. And I listened because I didn’t know what I was doing. The end result was forced. Good, but not good enough to sell in the competitive romantic suspense market.

But in THE PREY, I let my own voice take over and spill onto the pages and I liked the story so much more. It felt . . . big. I can’t really explain why I thought this was it, other than the gut feeling I had.

So I sent the manuscript to the agent who’d requested it (who didn’t ask for exclusives) and I queried a bunch of other A-list agents. A few weeks later I had an agent, did some very minor revisions, and she sold the book a week after sending it out.

So remember . . . when those voices start talking to you, make sure you’re listening to the right one. It might take some practice, but you’ll learn.