Murder She Writes

I apologize for being late with my blog, as I have been hit with a particularly severe gastrointestinal flu bug, and am having a hard time recovering.

I am on day five now, and am not sure it is ever going to stop, although the doctors assure me it will “run its course.”

I can only hope.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Everything you really need to know about the publishing business can be learned from a garage sale.

I know. Crazy. But trust me, it’s true. (I am beginning to suspect that there is a whole tao of garage sales just begging to be written.)

As some of you may remember, a couple of weeks ago, my house was the site of a garage sale, hosted by my son and daughter-in-law. It ended up going exceptionally well, surprisingly. And as they were collecting junk and pricing it and displaying it and handling the crowd, I suddenly realized I finally had a parallel to explain the whole publishing business to non-writing family members and/or friends who were in the first stages of writing, pre-publication.  And so I offer you: the tao of publishing.

1) It’s not personal.

When you’re selecting items for a garage sale, you have look past the personal value of an item, the sentimental value, and use an objective eye to decide if that item will sell. Something with a deeply personal meaning–a diary page, one ballerina shoe, that swizzle stick (bent) left over from that time you and your best friend had that thing happen in that bar in that other state that you’ve never told anyone about… those things aren’t going to make sense out of context and to a marketplace. They may be vastly important to you; doesn’t mean they’re going to sell.

Sure, you’ve written the novel, and you want people to have a personal response to it, because then you’ll know you’ve hooked them. But a personal response does not replace market reality. An agent, an editor, a publisher… these people are not rejecting a manuscript out of some elitist judgment (usually, unless you are writing them idiotic letters, like a recent one posted over on Janet Reid’s excellent blog) or some nefarious plot to drive writers crazy. Publishing professionals want to make a sale. The agent wants to sell to the editor, who has to sell it to the marketing department and the publisher, who has to believe that there are enough people out there in book-land who will plunk down money for this property. They’ve got to weigh how many people will resonate with this project and they’ve got to be objective about its value as they’re making that decision because their goal is not “to make you feel good about being a writer” and not to “support art” but is almost always to “make a profit.” Which leads to:

2) Big ticket items draw people in.

When we advertised for this garage sale, we named the big items we knew would draw people in: electronics, furniture, exercise equipment, collectibles, a canoe. We didn’t bother to mention the used books (which all sold), the glassware (all sold), the dolls (ditto), the purses (ditto), the shoes (surprised the hell out of me, but ditto). 

We charged a little more for the name brand items than we did similar stuff–even though the quality of the latter was the same as the former. People will pay more for the brand name stuff… but, while they were there, they inevitably picked up some other item and bought it, too. Almost all of the browsers ended up taking something home, and I suspect that the majority of time, it wasn’t the item they’d originally shown up to see. 

Bestselling authors are that draw in the bookstores: they get the people in the door. They get paid more because the publisher knows people will likely pick up their book, but they also get paid more because the publisher knows that if they’re on a shelf, the customer will stop and probably browse that shelf and, very possibly, pick up something else. When you start out, your book is possibly that “something else.” 

3) Group similar things on the same table.

This seems pretty simple: put like things together. Someone looking for the Minnie Mouse collectibles may buy more than one, so put them all in one place so they can find them. One guy came early and bought every Cabbage Patch doll we had (ten) and then started buying boy-type-toys. Someone else snapped up all of the hot-wheels. Things which were similar to these items were put on the same table, or near enough by, so that they caught the customer’s attention.

Publishers want to know what your book is so they’ll know where they can put it in the bookstore. This is why you don’t list six genres in your query letter: it’s sort of a space fantasy with a love story and comedic elements as the characters solve a mystery is going to get you an instant rejection. They won’t know where to put it, and if they don’t know, they won’t know how to market it, and if they don’t know how to market it, they don’t know how to let customers know where to find it, or that it exists at all. You’ve just made their job ten times harder, and frankly, there are a lot more books out there that will make their lives easier. What would you do when presented with two books of equal writing skill, but one was easily marketable and the other one wasn’t? You’d buy the one you knew how to sell. If you didn’t, and you didn’t frequently enough, you would be one of the publishers who are now going under.

But…but... I can hear you arguing, odd, cross-genre stuff sells.

Yes, it does. Generally, though, there’s some way of marketing that book–or at least, the publisher believes there is when they take on the project. I am the first to admit: weird shit sells. We sold a porthole table for $200. I know, you’re scratching your head, aren’t you? I have been scratching my head for 15 years. A long time ago, my husband dragged home a porthole–the kind you see on actual ships–that he had “rescued” from the scrap yard. No, I don’t know why. Yes, I asked. The only real answer I got was, “because it was cool,” and I suspect that it was because it was a challenge. He then (because he is crazy) made a round table and embedded the porthole so that it functioned (again, he’s crazy) and fixed it so that it could be opened (which meant you couldn’t really put anything on the table, except on the tiny perimeter, but you had to be careful if you did that, because as soon as you opened the porthole, the swinging motion generally knocked off whatever you’d put there). You could put a display inside the porthole (because, and I don’t know why, it had a glass backside and yes, I thought that made no sense). He then epoxied the table top in black, but the legs were a very light oak. Ugliest table ever. I was so relieved when he agreed to sell it. Until he put $200.

Now I ask you, what is the likelihood that someone is going to saunter over to a $200 table made of a porthole and think, “gee, that’s what I need to spend this week’s paycheck on?” I knew I was going to be stuck with that damned table ’til I died. And then my neighbor (who is, not surprisingly, crazy) came over to see what all we had for sale, and he fell in love with the porthole. I would’ve carried it to his house for free, but when he tried to haggle my husband down, my husband refused. And the neighbor bought it anyway. 

So the rule is, weird shit sells, but you cannot count on it. You cannot hope that there is always going to be a porthole-buying-nut who lives close enough to your porthole table, who for some reason, doesn’t have enough portholes in his life and feels like he cannot go home until he owns yours. So, even if you do have a porthole table to sell, you need to be able to do what my husband did–find its unique selling feature: it was antique. And an antique porthole table becomes, apparently, an entirely different thing. (Hell if I know.) Point is, if your book is not easily categorizable, figure out what is it that makes its uniqueness marketable.

4) Pricing is determined by what the market will bear

Now, that may seem self-evident, but it’s tricky and can make you want to plant your head in your desk when you see things sell too fast (could’ve gotten more!) or too slow (oops, priced it too high, better lower it). Years and years (and years) ago, I had one garage sale–an estate sale of my great-great aunt’s property. I had about a dozen hand-made quilts we were going sell. I’d kept the prettiest ones for family heirlooms, but the rest… shrug. Didn’t expect to get $20 apiece for them. I was hanging them on the makeshift clothesline about an hour before the announced time of the sale, and a man pulled up in my drive, made a beeline for the quilts and asked me how much I wanted for them. I eyed him and thought, “He’s here at six a.m., asking me for these things, didn’t even look at anything else. He’s a collector.” Then I said, “$125 each.” He said, “I’ll give you $100 each.” Sold. I was pretty proud of myself. He took ten of the twelve, and later that afternoon, a lady asked me how much for the quilts. I’d forgotten them in the flurry of the day, and I think I must’ve looked at her blankly. She offered $200 each. She lamented that I didn’t have more–she would’ve bought the entire batch at that price per quilt. 

That was (I am not even going to tell you how many) years ago. Today, even factoring in inflation, I could not have gotten $50 each. 

While we were pricing things for this garage sale, we had to take into account several factors: it was after Christmas (therefore, we’d missed the “must find a gift item that looks expensive but didn’t cost much” rush), it’s a bad economy (everyone’s saving their money to spend on necessities, none of which we really had at the garage sale), and it was likely to rain the second day, which meant even die-hard garage salers wouldn’t come back the second day to scoop up the “must get rid of it” last minute pricing you can normally do at the end of a sale. By keeping these things in mind, we priced everything to move.

The publishing corollary is that everything has its time. Advances are going to be lower while the market adjusts to the steep drop off in sales and everyone panics. Something that a year ago might’ve fetched a $100K advance might not get a $25K advance now. Publishers are looking for ways to make a book work for this market–which might mean that you don’t get the hardcover format because it’s so expensive and they’re not selling very well. It’s not about prestige, it’s about survival, and it’s smart to look at what works for the consumer. I suspect there’s going to be a bigger push over this next year for downloads–publicity and marketing–because there’s next to no delivery costs–there’s no warehousing, no shipping, no returns. In addition, trends will determine price–something that shows up when a trend is just heating up is probably going to get a bit higher advance than something that shows up after the trend seems to have peaked or the market is glutted. It’s not personal, it’s not about what you, as a person, are worth. It’s what the market will bear. It’s probably the most difficult thing to remember.

5) Reputation helps.

We managed to pull a lot of people into our sale very early in the day because our neighborhood is considered a hot spot. (We didn’t really know that, but there have been a lot of successful garage sales out here… part of it is there are lots of families here, so the sales usually have a big variety of items). We got ‘em in through a reputation we hadn’t quite earned yet. We kept ‘em (and made a bunch of sales) because we delivered: we had a lot of merchandise cheaply priced and people kept complimenting us on what a great, organized sale we had. Lots of people said we should have another. (Over my dead body.) But at least it worked for them.

Blurbs are the same thing–the publishing business is hoping that blurbs (or reviews) up your reputation from that of “who?” to “oh, we should give them a try.” It won’t work, though, if you don’t deliver.

6) Some things are beyond your control.

The first day, we had a ton of people and huge sales. The second day, it rained. Stormed. I think we had two people show up, and one sale for the whole day. We had, luckily, made enough money the day before to have made it worthwhile, but it almost hadn’t gone that way–we had almost opted to only have the sale for Sunday, not both days. Luckily, my daughter-in-law is a lot smarter than I am and she insisted we have it both days “in case of bad weather.” 

You can’t help a bad economy. You can’t help if a sales rep doesn’t “get” your book. You can’t help if a hurricane shows up the day your book is supposed to be delivered. You can’t help a snowstorm, or a national tragedy. You really cannot help the decisions made in-house–these are beyond your control. You made the thing and handed them the thing–they have to sell it. Now, you might be able to nudge a few people, but the parallel would’ve been me putting out a few fliers in the neighborhood. Sure, I can self-promote and that may help to a certain degree, but if the publisher doesn’t promote my book on a national level and my book’s not available on a national level, no amount of me flogging it locally is going to increase my numbers high enough, fast enough, to make a big dent in “sell-through.” If the sale were going on over a long period of time (years), word-of-mouth might spread and bigger and bigger crowds would show up–like some of those big “annual” garage sales held by entire towns, or held near (Camden?) Texas every second Saturday… but for the short-term, I can’t do it all by myself. I can’t control everything. 

Sometimes, the wisest thing is to sell what you can, look at the rest, realize it is what it is (maybe it’s a practice novel, maybe it’s your third practice novel), and move on. 

7) There’s always stuff left over.

It will surprise you what doesn’t sell. You’ll be convinced certain items are going to fly off the tables–maybe because it was a popular item when you bought it new, or it’s in great condition now (and at such a cheap price), or it’s just so cool, of course people are going to want it. You’re going to have stuff that fills a niche and you know for a fact people are looking for that type of niche item, and yet, when the day is done, there will be stuff left on your table, picked over, and you’ll wonder why. Did you price it too high? Did you not put it in a prominent enough place? Did you put it next to something that overshadowed it?

Who the hell knows?

In publishing, it’s a “best guess” business. People are trying to gauge what everyone’s going to want in the future based off what they wanted in the past. Except as humans, we don’t want to have the same exact experience day in and day out for the rest of our lives–we want something new. Different. Maybe not too different. Predicting that is not an exact science. And if you happen to send in a space-alien-time-travel-love-story right after the editor just had to remainder a rather large order of her previous space-alien-time-travel-love-stories, she’s probably not going to be able to convince a publisher to take a chance on yours. If she just had a significant other who was rather space-alien-like dump her for a younger, hotter similarly-looking-space-alien-tart, then she may be turned off space alien love stories for months, and no matter how good yours was, it didn’t stand a chance. Someone else, somewhere else, may snap it up. The things that did not sell at my garage sale? We donated to the Battered Women’s Shelter, and you know what they’re going to do? Sell those items in their stores. They figure someone, eventually, will buy the stuff. Who knows, they could be right.

Which circles back around to rule number one: it’s not personal. 

Okay, those are the big parallels… are there others I’ve missed? 

It’s no secret that in nearly every format—print, audio, electronic distribution, and film—authors are usually shoved to the back of the line when it comes time to distribute the revenue generated from their work.

But times just might be a-changin’—

Recently, Elaine English, an attorney and literary agent based in Washington D.C. circulated news that offers writers a glimmer of hope. Here’s an excerpt of what she had to say—

Google’s announcement, back in 2004, that it intended to digitize all the books in the world had the industry virtually apoplectic. Google had started had started with digitized books that were clearly in the public domain. It then began negotiations with publishers to license rights to new titles as they were issued. But the most controversial component was the Google Library Project, where Google launched its efforts to scan the entire collection of certain university libraries whether the titles were covered by valid copyrights or not. Google’s position was that fair use protected both its scanning of the book as well as the maintenance of an electronic copy so long as it was used primarily for searching and indexing purposes.

Google intends to post a preliminary list of books that it has scanned, and notices will be mailed to rights holders on or after January 5, 2009. Authors affected by the settlement will have until May 5, 2009 to opt out of the class of covered authors (i.e. preserving individual rights to sue Google). The settlement also proposes a deadline of April 5, 2011 for requests to have individual works deleted from the database. A hearing is currently scheduled for June 11, 2009 when the court is expected to rule on the fairness of the settlement.

To see details of how the settlement will work, go to www.googlebooksettlement.com.

I’ll be keeping a close eye on this one!

To sheath or not to sheath, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler to stop the story and bag the boy, thus allowing characters to exhibit traits of intelligence and responsibility…or to suffer the slings and arrows of readers and reviewers who believe that a latex-free ride is a ticket to the wall for the novel in their hands.

To show or not to show, that is the quandary. Whether ‘tis acceptable to take the reader on the ultimate fantasy that circumvents all things awkward and abrasive, thus whisking her away to that great big Calgon bath in the sky… or forever risk the taint of TSTL.

Every one of us who include detailed love scenes in our books face the condom question. Do we describe the tearing and wearing in every single love scene, or do we let “Trojan Understood” stand as an implication of the act? If we ignore the condom completely, without so much as reference in dialogue, does that become an indelible character trait (stupid, lazy, careless, selfish, unheroic) or can the reader accept that this is a fantasy with a happy ending and no fear of STD or unwanted pregnancy? Is the condom too much fact in our fiction, or does the author have a moral responsibility to address the issue of intelligent, safe sex in every single love scene?

I do not have the answers to any of these questions, but good heavens there are strong opinions about this! Recently, all three books in the latest Bullet Catcher trilogy were featured in a “bulk” review on my favorite form of on-line crack the popular web site Dear Author. In my opinion, DA reviewer Janet did an outstanding job of presenting a thoughtful overview of the trilogy, dissecting the individual stories, and analyzing the complexities and subtleties of the characters. Like any fair review, she didn’t love everything, and one of her sticking points was that of the love scenes throughout the trilogy did not always include mention of the condom.

No doubt about it, in the half dozen or more love scenes across those three books, I ran the gamut from including the condom, to implying that the condom was worn, to ignoring it completely, to insisting on withdrawal because the raincoat hadn’t made it into the shower love scene. Moments after the review was posted, the site ran one of its fabulous instapolls on the subject that included a lively discussion thread with no less than 168 comments on the subject of condom usage in the romance novel.

Poll results were surprising, at least to me. An overwhelming majority (72%) of nearly 400 (yes, four hundred – there are a lot of us on DA crack) readers actively look for the condom and are disappointed when it isn’t included. I voted with the 28% who felt the mention of the condom could ruin the fantasy, but as a writer, I certainly took note of how important this is to readers.

The issue, for me, is not whether or not to include the condom but how to keep both sides of the readership happy. And should we? I deeply respect those who feel that a heroine who has condom-free sex has crossed the line from daring to dumb and deserves if not death, then a DNF on the book. (Although I believe most of those readers do agree that if there is a specific plot point supporting this action – i.e. she’s trying to get pregnant – then it’s okay.) I also respect the reader who cringes in disappointment when the foil packet is introduced because it yanks her from romance to realism and, to her, it’s no different than showing the characters taking a quick post-coital trip to the bathroom. She knows it happened, but would rather not read the gory details.

The only answer is to let the scene and character dictate the condom decision. In the vast majority of the love scenes I’ve written, a condom is mentioned, sometimes joked about, occasionally fumbled over, and the search for one has actually changed the course of a story. But I admit, there have been scenes where I’ve opted to let fantasy rule over common sense. In Then You Hide, there is a love scene that takes place in the shallow waters of the Caribbean. I did not have the characters take a condom into the water, or climb out of the waves to suit up for sex. They just go for it. Did I lose a reader or two over that? Perhaps, but I really hope not. Personally, I loved the momentum and spontaneity of that scene, and it felt right to let those two characters (one who is notably impulsive) frolic unprotected. There are other love scenes in the trilogy where I don’t mention the condom, but it’s there in my mental image. I don’t describe every touch or sigh or hip undulation, either, otherwise the love scenes would be twenty-five pages long. In the final love scene in the trilogy there is no condom, and the hero specifically asks “Aren’t we forgetting something?” but the answer is no. (Baby Bullet Catcher is on the way.)

The fact is, we can’t please every reader, though God knows we want to. At some point, it has to come down to how we want to tell the story. I can assure you, for this writer, it is not a cavalier decision. I’d love to hear how the MSW community feels about this, too. Writers, how do you address the condom conundrum? Readers, how do you feel when the writer makes a choice that goes against your personal beliefs?

Sorry to be so late. I’ve actually been thinking about my blog post since my last blog post, but I’m so behind with work right now that I really couldn’t spare even a teeny bit of time to write a blog post. I’m sorry. I suck.

I’m a “pantser” writer. I have no outline, no synopsis, no clue of what my story is going to be until I’m writing it. Sometimes, I can’t even see farther ahead than the end of the scene, let alone the next chapter. There are times when the going is tortuous because my brain is spinning like a hamster on a wheel. It’s getting a workout, but it’s not going anywhere. When that happens, it’s pure misery. I can lose precious time if too many days go by and I’m still lost in the woods.

But then there are the times when a plan comes together. Wondrous moments when an avenue will appear that is so phenomenally perfect I wish I would have thought of it, so I could feel clever. It might sound silly to say “I wish I would have thought of it,” because clearly I did, right? It popped up in my brain, didn’t it? But I’m not sure I can claim credit for something that smacks me between the eyes like a 2 x 4.

I have friends who swear it’s my subconscious at work. That while I’m feeling like my brain is skipping like a broken record (did I just totally date myself by making that analogy?), it’s actually playing with the puzzle pieces to put the picture together. I suppose that’s the most logical explanation, but wow… seriously, sometimes an idea will emerge that pulls together threads I laid out books ago! Sometimes the bow I can make out of it is such a perfect bow that it looks like I must have planned the whole thing all along. When a reviewer says “brilliantly plotted” or “complex and intriguing plot” or “In the hands of a less talented author, such a busy plot may have become difficult to follow,” I can’t help but wonder what they’d say if they knew I didn’t plan it that way? That it was all some crazy fluke that happened when I wasn’t looking?

But, regardless, I soooo love it when it happens. The feeling of discovery and delight is like opening a present that you couldn’t be more happy with. I get so excited, almost giddy. It’s one of the reasons why I stay a pantser instead of trying to plot. Yeah, the brain-dead times are horrible. But those golden nuggets in the muddy bottom make it all worth it. Too bad I can’t take credit for finding them…

Okay, before I get started here, I have to say, I’m scratching my head over some of these. Best Supporting Actor, Robert Downy Jr in Tropic Thunder? Did anyone see that movie? Sorry, but the weirdest half of TomKat stole the show. And why wasn’t Revolutionary Road nominated for something more than Best Supporting Actor? And if you have not seen it, you are missing out by not running to your nearest theater and seeing Gran Torino. A true study of character that movie was. Loved it. And it was Clint’s last movie. No more acting, he said. He went out with a bang, too bad no one noticed. It just goes to show the Academy folks who nominate and vote for the winners have no taste. Last year’s Best Picture was that gawd awful story where that crazed killer played by Benicio del Toro went around psychopathically murdering people. HATED. IT! Worst ending ever and no dimension to the bad guy or, hell for that matter the so-called hero, Tommy Lee Jones’ character. Gah!

Okay, so I’ve listed the main award categories, who gets your pick and why? And I have to admit, I haven’t seen most of these. Yet!

81st Academy Awards main nominations:

Best Picture:
‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’
‘Frost/Nixon’
‘Milk’
‘The Reader’
‘Slumdog Millionaire’

Best Actor:
Richard Jenkins ‘The Visitor’
Brad Pitt ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’
Frank Langella ‘Frost/Nixon’
Sean Penn ‘Milk’
Mickey Rourke ‘The Wrestler’

Best Actress:
Anne Hathaway ‘Rachel Getting Married’
Melissa Leo ‘Frozen River’
Meryl Street ‘Doubt’
Angelina Jolie ‘Changeling’
Kate Winslet ‘The Reader’

Best Supporting Actor:
Josh Brolin ‘Milk’
Robert Downey Jr. ‘Tropic Thunder’
Philip Seymour Hoffman ‘Doubt’
Heath Ledger ‘The Dark Knight’
Michael Shannon ‘Revolutionary Road’

Best Supporting Actress:
Amy Adams ‘Doubt’
Penelope Cruz ‘Vicky Cristina Barcelona’
Viola Davis ‘Doubt’
Taraji P. Henson ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’

Best Director:
David Fincher ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’
Ron Howard ‘Frost/Nixon’
Gus Van Sant ‘Milk’
Stephen Daldry ‘The Reader’
Danny Boyle ‘Slumdog Millionaire’

These gems aside (yes, said with a slight hint of sarcasm) what was your favorite movie last year?

I am the bane of my own existence.

Rocki had a post the other week about her process and how it’s evolved after writing 20+ books. I just finished the revisions for book #11 and I did an all-nighter because I was late. First, I’m going to be 40 this year. I didn’t think about it until Jan 1, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going to be FORTY. I’m too old to stay up all night. I took the kids to school Wednesday, came home and crashed until I woke up barely in time to get the kids at school.

I had plenty of time to write SUDDEN DEATH. Months. So I hemmed, hawed, and revised the first 120 pages a half dozen times. I wanted it to be perfect, after all it was my tenth book. I should know more now, I should write cleaner, tighter, better. I had two great characters (Jack Kincaid and Megan Elliott) and I had two great villains and I just loved the premise.

The book was NOT working. I was stuck on my initial set-up, that Megan and Jack had a past relationship. But every time I put them on the same page, it did not work. They did NOT know each other. But this was my premise, dammit, and I would not give it up.

Flying back from Thrillerfest, I saw that their past relationship was the fatal flaw in the story. So I deleted everything but the first chapter and speed wrote a completely new book. Same story, same characters, same villains, but without that past relationship. It worked. I turned it in right before RWA — yep, just under three weeks. But it was a rough draft and I told my editor it was rough and that was fine why? Because we had plenty of time!

My brilliant editor came back with a great revision letter. We talked, in fact, while I was at RWA and I started revisions there. We planned on two rounds–the second would be the details. Why? Because I always, always, always seem to write two completely different books for every book I write. My editor never knows what’s going to happen, who’s going to live or die or even when they’ll have sex or meet or separate. The first round of revisions took twice as long to write as the first draft. A full month. Then the second round took two weeks–really minor stuff, but whenever you make massive changes in a book you need to go back and clean it up.

None of this was a problem. Why? Because we had the time. And, in fact, when that was done I had plenty of time to write FATAL SECRETS. Except for the copyedits and page proofs of SUDDEN DEATH . . . and two sick kids . . . and a sick me . . . and suddenly, I was behind. And the story sucked big time.

Fortunately, my editor didn’t hate it like I did–she pointed out the two flaws in the book (a minor plot point that didn’t work and the backstory of my heroine that was convoluted and overdone, plus some minor stuff like a character that didn’t need to be there) and I went back with the idea that the revisions would be light . . . except that plot point that I thought was minor? It changed the entire book.

Same characters. Same villains. Same story. Completely different book. Completely. I didn’t keep anything except the first chapter. But when I rewrote it, I ended up liking it so, so, so much more than the first version. My heroine was stronger, my hero smarter, my villains more evil . . . and it felt right.

I’m now behind. I won’t have as much time to pass through the copyedits or the page proofs. And I have about six eight weeks to write the next book. I can picture the first chapter, I know I can knock it out and it’s going to stay pretty much as I write it the first time. (Okay, okay, I started it last night. I know, I’m sick that way, but it’s only two pages, pretty much just setting the scene for me . . . and I read somewhere that if Nora Roberts finishes a book in the middle of the day, she starts the next. I feel like such a slacker if I take an entire day off. And I’ll probably delete them.)

But what about the rest of the book? The only saving grace on this one is that I introduced the hero in FATAL SECRETS. I already have a sense of his character and his backstory and how he’s going to react to the crime in chapter one. I think one of the problems with FATAL SECRETS was that I’d never met my hero and heroine before. They were completely new characters and I had to get to know them. But Duke Rogan is charming, funny, incredibly smart, honorable, and the most important thing to him is family. He’s the second Rogan brother (I think . . . I haven’t introduced them all yet. I think there are four, but there might be five . . . ) and the one who everyone gets along with.

And tonight I’ll be going to an FBI briefing on the unabomber. I am so, so, so excited about this because my killer in CUTTING EDGE has a little bit of the Ted Kaczynski syndrome–brilliant but socially isolated and a psychopath. I’ll be meeting one of the agents involved in the investigation. So by next week, I should be well off into the story . . .

But what’s going to happen then? Will I be fated to labor over the beginning only to realize my deadline is nearing, then panic? I’ve tried everything–the “XX pages a day” and the “XXXX words a day” and the “X hours a day” and the book doesn’t get done until I start to panic and go into what I call “deadline mode” where my productivity increases directly proportional to the proximity of my deadline.

Ideally, I would love to write 5 hours a day 5 days a week, producing 15 good pages a day (3 pages an hour–it seems so easy) thereby having my on-average 500 page manuscript done in @ 7 weeks, giving me one week to edit and clean up. Then 2 weeks for revisions. That’s 10 weeks, plus a week for copy edits and a week for page proofs. That’s an ideal world.

My world is not ideal.

When I worked in the legislature, I had a supervisor once who was an anal micromanager. If a project was due on Friday at 5 pm and would take 8 hours to complete, she’d expect me to spend 1.6 hours a day working on the project. Me? I’d look at it Thursday around 4 in the afternoon, realize that her estimate was wrong and it would only take me 3 hours, and start it after lunch on Friday. Every morning she’d nag me. “Have you started this? Where are you on that?” And I’d just smile and say it’ll be in 5 pm Friday or whatever the deadline was.

That’s just the way I do it. I don’t think I can do it any other way.

I’m going to keep a log for CUTTING EDGE and be honest with myself about how many hours and pages I write a day. I sense that I average a net 3-5 pages a day when I start a book, and that increases to 20-30 pages a day as the deadline nears. I’ll share my log when I’m done with the book. We’ll see how I do. I also have a bit of a breather because I’ll have more time for the first book of my supernatural series . . . which doesn’t launch until Spring 2010. I’m glad on one hand because it’s a new genre and it’s meaty and complex and there’s a lot more world building . . . but on the other hand, I know me. I write faster as the deadline nears. I can’t seem to help myself. I’ve been like this my entire life.

Stephen King says he writes 2,000 words a day. He sits down and that’s the first thing he does. If he gets them done in the morning, he can go do something else for the rest of the day. But if it takes him all day, or into the night, he sits there until it’s done.

I don’t have a problem writing 2,000 words a day. My problem? Deleting 3,000 the next day. I’m destined to write three words for every word I keep. No wonder I wear out the letters on my keyboard after two books . . . my poor laptop looks like it’s been beaten with pebbles, and my beautiful new iMac keyboard that I’ve only written one book on and revisions for another . . . my “s” “d” “e” “c” and “n” keys are all faded. I don’t get the “c” . . .

Wish me luck. I’m going to need it.

And because I’m in a relatively good mood because I AM done with the book and it doesn’t suck the big one (though I’m sure there will be people who hate it) I’m giving away an ARC of SUDDEN DEATH. Comment for a chance to win. I got extras, and so I want to share.

This is not a political talk at all. But this day is far too significant for all of us not to note its arrival. Today is the United States Presidential Inauguration Day.  No matter how you voted, this day is a historic one simply by virtue of the fact that the people voted and a president is being sworn in–democracy in its purest form. For me, this day represents one of hope and possibility. Each time a new president is sworn into office, in the heart of this American, there is a feeling of excitement generated by the hope and the possibilities the future may bring. It’s a similar feeling to the one I get when I start a new story. Anything is possible. This could be a masterpiece! (Okay, I’m not holding my breath.)

As I’m feeling giddy with excitement in this new year of possibilities, the realization that I’m writing the final book on my contract dawned. Final book! That means I need new ideas! A proposal…or three. At night I lay in bed with crime scenes and villains traipsing through my head. What will work? What hasn’t been done a million times already? What new ways can I make my characters die? Can I borrow Jack Bauer from 24 to be my hero? What about that new chick, Agent Walker, can she be my heroine? Oh, God, I don’t have a clue what to do! Everything I come up with seems ridiculous or already taken. All the other authors (I won’t name names but there’s a few on this very blog) have all the best ideas. I have this fabulous new agent who is expecting a killer proposal and what if I can’t give it to her???

Of course this day didn’t just sneak up on me. I’ve known it was coming. Case in point, I find myself pondering the most inane items as I do my shopping. Would that work for a murder weapon? At an estate sale I attended with a friend, I couldn’t focus on what I might want to buy for watching folks walking around with armloads of items they had snatched up. One petite young woman walked all through the house carrying a pair of loping shears. I kept thinking, “Wow, she could seriously kill someone with those.” Or when I was at the Habitat store scrounging for cool architectural elements, I wondered how many body parts could be stuffed into the dishwasher a woman was scrutinizing. Do you think she once asked herself that question while peering in to see if the interior was stainless? I can only pray that these bizarre musings will lead to something useful…or I will drive my husband crazy!!!!

So, dear friends, as I scour newspapers and the Internet, and stare strangely at ordinary people, please, on this glorious historic day, share your brainstorming methods? Whether you’re planning to write a book or help your son or daughter with an essay, do you have an approach that gets the old gray matter churning?