Murder She Writes

Today at my job, I was given an assignment that no one else wanted to do. Being the newest staff member in my department, I had to do it. It wasn’t a HORRIBLE job, mind you, like say, shoveling elephant poop, cleaning out sewers, or keeping the world safe from arachnids, but it wasn’t fun.

I am putting old employment announcements into boxes, numerically by announcement number, logging them, stacking them, and then, when finished, I will ship them off to storage. Dealing with all those files, and papers, and boxes, the inevitable happened. I got three NASTY papercuts. The worst one, by far, is under my left pinky nail, and it hurts to type. Especially when I press the shift key. Everytime I hit shift, I am reminded about the job I did today, and what awaits me tomorrow. It’s not a “go to the emergency room STAT” kind of pain, of course. Can you just see that? Excuse me, but please let me in ahead of that man whose arm is six feet behind him, because I have a BAD papercut.

But it hurts. It hurts pretty bad.

They say that the reasons hangnails, papercuts, and other finger injuries are so painful–and also the reason why getting your finger poked for blood is ten thousand times worse than having it taken out of your arm with a much bigger needle–is because of all the nerves we have in our fingers.

I would rather give six quarts of blood than two drops, because I do NOT like having my fingers poked. I always want to poke back, and that can lead to assault charges.

As long as I turn my head and don’t watch the actual process, drawing blood out of my arm is usually pretty-much pain free. It just looks worse.

So, back to my subject at hand, it seems that paper cuts, while minor and small, are more painful and irritating than often larger wounds. I heard a horror story once about a woman who got a paper cut, then got a dreadful septic infection and died. Death by papercut. How unglamorous is that?

But the truth is, it can happen. Not only do papercuts hurt like hell, but they have the potential to become deadly. If not tended to, the smallest papercut can become a huge abcess.

Life is pretty good at handing out papercuts. Since we use paper every day, they are pretty hard to avoid. In fact, I would like to find even ONE person who hasn’t had at least one papercut this year. People without hands do not count. Even the unemployed must deal with paper–and often paperwork. And the homeless use paper as bedding and insulating material. The extremely wealthy probably get papercuts from counting all their money. Heh.

And those of us who are decidedly middle-class, possibly frumpy, definitely hard-working and trying to get by in a difficult world? I guess those of us who don’t live on the street, have jobs, and not a lot of money to count–well, we probably get more papercuts than your average Joe.

Even though no one knows you are feeling it, because papercuts are hard to see. The fact someone else can’t see it doesn’t make it less real. Or less painful.

The key to dealing with those nasty papercuts–almost invisible wounds–is to keep them clean. Cover them up when you are working with dirty materials, but give them air to breathe when the environment is safe. Whatever you do, don’t let them fester and abcess. The pain will eventually ease. The wound will close. No visible signs will remain. And no one will ever even know you were hurt.

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Today, as you are reading this, I am most likely sitting in the waiting room of the oral surgeon, waiting for my older daughter to recover from the procedure to remove her wisdom teeth. She isn’t the first, and she sure isn’t going to be the last, but I’m still not really looking forward to it.

But as usual, talking about something common, “wisdom teeth,” makes me wonder about our language, and all the silly idioms we use. Where do these things come from? Here are some of the things I sometimes ponder.

1. If these are “wisdom teeth,” why on earth are we taking them out? With all the brain cells we kill, don’t we need all the help we can get? One would think these excess teeth should be called something else, like PITAs. “Yes, I am having my PITAs out tomorrow.” That makes more sense, don’t you think?

2. Does a “gut stuck pig” really bleed like no other bleeding thing alive?

3. Even kindergartners knows that with the exception of Disney movies, birds do NOT talk. Well, for the most part. Parrots and some parakeets REPEAT. But they don’t talk. They mimic. So who is this “little bird” that keeps ratting on everyone? Shouldn’t someone find a big cat to take out this little bird? Just saying….

4. A “month of Sundays” indicates a long period of time, and yet, if it were really a month of Sundays, it would be a four-day MONTH–five days max. That’s not a long time. Well, if you are waiting for something it might SEEM like a long time, but the older you get, the faster life goes. That’s why old people drive so slow. They have figured it out. SLOW DOWN. You will get there quick enough. Sorry, I digressed a little there.

5. “A penny saved is a penny earned.” Huh? Yeah, that’s pretty much all I have to say about that one.

6. “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Well, see, here’s the thing. I’m a writer. I do that better than I take pictures, although I enjoy both. But I’d like to see someone tell a story like any of the ladies here at MSW using JUST a picture. Go ahead. Try. I dare you. Yes, I know that sometimes just showing someone a picture is easier than explaining or describing. But that only means you are FAILING TO COMMUNICATE. Maybe rethink what you are saying.

7. “About as useful as a chocolate teapot.” I can think of many uses for a chocolate teapot. Many. Would it be milk chocolate? Are there nuts involved? I would say this little idiom is just ridiculous. Any wise woman recognizes the usefulness of ANYTHING chocolate.

8. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonaide.” Yeah, well what about the sugar? I don’t see anyone mentioning the SUGAR here. Do you KNOW how much sugar is necessary to make lemonaide drinkable? The lemons alone are pretty useless, unless, say, you were using them to squirt over fish. Then it might make some sense. But I guess “When life gives you lemons, squirt it over fish,” doesn’t have the same ring. But that would not require another ingredient, like SUGAR. See my point?

9. “Add fuel to the fire.” Okay, I see the point here, but IF you don’t add FUEL to the fire, it won’t burn. So if you started the fire on purpose, and don’t add fuel, then you are wasting your time!

10. “Ants in your pants.” What I want to know here is, who is the first person caught with ants in their pants? How did this happen? A practical joke gone awry? Is there someone who has actually experienced ants in their pants, and if so, WHAT was it like? A kindergartner on crack? We all want to know.

Idioms are one of the things that makes English such a difficult language to learn, and we use them all the time. The question I wonder, though, is should a WRITER be using them in a novel of fiction?

My personal thought on this is no. They are very much a part of personality, or “voice.” Unless your book is first person, an idiom is jarring to the reader, and makes them stop and think, “Huh? Why did this book just stop me and tell me that? Oh wait, this book was written by a real person who must talk like that.”

Now putting an idiom in dialogue in a different thing. We DO speak like that. In fact, I have a friend who uses them every other sentence, and sometimes I just want to shake her and beg her to STOP. If I had a nickel for all the times she has told me that….. AUGH. Stop me now.

TGIF! Ack! Ahem. So what do you think? Do idioms bother you? Do you use them often? Should writers use them?

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After emerging from a difficult divorce and some other situations that are less than ideal, I am finally getting back to real life. It’s slow going. I’m still not “Johnny-on-the-spot.” I’m trying to work two full-time jobs, do Web sites and design on the side, finish this book, raise two kids, and EXERCISE. That takes up a lot of time. For example, last night I thought I would go for a hike, instead of my customary hour-long walk. (I started at 30 minutes, and worked my way up to an hour.)

I’ve always wondered what was at the top of that canyon trail I could see from Highway 89, in Utah, so I talked my youngest into going hiking with me. Wonder no more; I was going to find out.

I started about 6:30 p.m., when the sun was still hot, and the first part of the hike was a tiered, but completely uphill climb. The pathway was sandy, and hard to navigate, and I immediately regretted my curiosity and desire to get fit. If the whole hike was this way, I was in trouble.

Luckily, once you get to the top of this particular leg it turns to regular dirt and rocks. I was very proud of myself as we quickly passed the Boy Scout troop and leaders. Of course, they caught up with us as we headed into the canyon, because pre-teen boys are monkeys and the leaders were running on pure adrenaline, terrified of losing one of them and having to explain to Timmy’s parents why they came back with seven boys instead of eight.

I really grew to appreciate those Scouts, especially as they warned us to look out for the rattlesnake they had spotted on the way up. Yesiree, thanks for THAT warning. I knew Adams Canyon had rattlesnakes, but generally if you don’t bug them, they won’t bug you. I sure as hell wasn’t searching them out.

After a rollercoaster of a climb, we finally got to the final leg, which basically involved scaling large rocks and wading through water. THAT was great. Really. I love rock climbing. Not. But I wasn’t about to turn around. I am nothing if not stubborn, and I was going to get to the top and see the waterfall.

We rounded a bend, and saw this tiny waterfall, and I about beat my daughter’s friend to death with my EMPTY water bottle, because it was very, very disappointing. Luckily for her, it was not THE waterfall, but rather A waterfall, and a rather puny one at that.

Then she started in with the “It’s just around the corner.” That girl is lucky she doesn’t have dents from that EMPTY plastic water bottle, I am telling you.

But with not even one fall, we FINALLY got to the top, and froze our feet off in the water, because you really couldn’t see it without getting into the water. And then, of course, I got to hike back down in my completely soggy workout shoes. They are a muddy mess. Glad I got them for half-price, because I am going to attempt to wash them, but am not sure of the outcome.

It really was beautiful, I only fell once coming down, I was a muddy, sappy, dusty mess when we reached the parking lot, and I was pretty damn glad to see my car. But I did it! I made it to the top of Adam’s Canyon, which is a pretty tough hike.

I’m proud. And sore. I also need new shoes.

My next goal is parasailing in Cabo. Yes, I am afraid of heights. But I don’t care. This is a new phase of my life, and I’m going to conquer those fears. Except for my fear of spiders. Don’t expect that one to EVER happen.

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Sorry for the rather profane, if censored, heading, but I really don’t much like television. And the whole TV world has given me yet ANOTHER reason NOT to like it with the new reality show, More to Love.

Ah, Fox television. I have a love/hate relationship going on with them. Everybody loves American Idol, and even though I haven’t watched since the third season, I think it’s still a fun premise. And a great way to discover untapped talent. And being a dance aficionado, I LOVE that they have the hit show, So You Think You Can Dance, on their network. It’s proved a huge hit, and the dancing is incredible every week. I adore it.

P.S. Vote Jeanine. She is DA BOMB. She’s fighting short legs and no natural turnout, and still LOOK at her dance. Beautiful.

But back to the topic at hand. More to Love is built on the premise that the average American woman is a size 14, and the average female reality television contestant is a size 2. Okay, they still have me. Except… They are making a HUGE deal of these women being “big.” They post their weights! They have them cry on television about how they just want love even though they are “big.” In short, they are not treating them as if they are average. They are treating them as if they are HUGE.

Average is not normal in LaLa Land, so surely it’s not average in the rest of America, right? Puhleeze.

I suppose I can’t expect TOO much from a network that, a few years back, did a search to find overweight, frumpy, plain women, then spent a few months torturing them with plastic surgery, extreme exercise, major dental procedures and isolation from friends and family, all so they could turn them into a swan. A swan with a serious need to get out an AK-47 and mow down some doctors, television producers, and health trainers. Thank God that show didn’t last too long. I think ONE season….

Sadly, maybe that show, The Swan, really WAS reality. When we see larger-sized women in a show like More to Love, we call them big. We think they have not had any luck getting a date, let alone a date, because they are “big.” How many times have you heard “she has such a pretty face, but…” If we don’t all look like a SWAN–Size 2, Winsome, Attractive, Naughty/Nice–then we are not, what, real?

Does being a size 12 make you any less real than someone who is a size 6? I would say it makes you a little more real, but then someone would think I was making a joke at their expense. I suppose in some ways I am.

My own.

My battle with weight did not start until I was in my thirties, and then it became a constant fight. I had some health problems, was given some controversial medication, gained too much weight, and I have fought it ever since. I am not HUGE, nor I am considered morbidly obese, but I am a size 12, just down from a size 14. I am exercising daily, eating a high-protein, low-fat, low-carb, low-calorie diet, and my goal is a size six. I have been a size 2, and I liked it.

I don’t really like me the size I am.

Is that because the world has spent so much time convincing me that something is WRONG with the size I am?

Maybe. But with More to Love, I feel lied to and cheated, and manipulated. Don’t go to these HUGE lengths to show me I am average, just to tell me that you were KIDDING. You’re not average.

YOU ARE BIG. I guess that’s a nice way of saying fat.

What a stupid show.

Anyone else bothered by this?

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Social networking sites are all the buzz, and although you usually here about the BAD things that happen because of them–i.e., predator stalks victims pretending to be interested in them romantically; people get fired because of the stupid things they post or pictures they put on their pages; teenagers cyberbully other teens to the point of suicide or murder–I do think they have a place in our world.

And all of the things posted above give me ideas for books, although that is NOT why I am on Facebook, MySpace, or Goodreads. Now, right off the bat here I’m going to be honest. I don’t remember the last time I logged in to Myspace. I HATE it. I am going to drag my butt in there as soon as I am done with this post, and update my site, but dragging I will be. I find the layouts clunky and hard to read, the updates hard to follow, and in short, I don’t get what I am looking for there.

Facebook? A whole different story. In a bat of an eye I can see status updates, check out people’s profiles pages without busy backgrounds, cloying music, or hours of searching. I can read the funny things that people say, and decide when and if I want to follow them, or even more, if I want to possibly read their work.

Because I am not just a writer, I am also an avid reader.

I have reconnected with many old friends on Facebook, as well. And I have met many new fans of my books, which is a fabulous thing. I love meeting people who have read my work.

As a result of Facebook, one of my old high school friends told me that not only had she READ Wives and Sisters, but she had loved it and then loaned it to her mother. All without having any idea that I had written it! When she started looking at my profile, she saw a picture of it and it clicked.

The one thing I DON’T like about Facebook? I can’t seem to find a way to send people directly to my page. Anyone have any idea how to do this? If you do, let me know.

My friend Mandy, who is a dance teacher, has found it is a great way to connect NOT only to people who want to join our dance studio, but also with teachers and choreographers! In short, it is a SOCIAL NETWORKING site, emphasis on the NETWORKING.

And I find it entertaining and fun. Sometimes TOO entertaining and fun.

So, tell me, do you Facebook? Do you like it? Do you think Myspace’s days are numbered? I do!

Oh yeah, and how do I link to my page?

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Recently, there was a buzz (or a roar, depending on who you ask) regarding the Twitter account of author Alice Hoffman. The account is no longer active, but the truth about the Internet is that nothing is EVER really gone. Please, folks, remember this when you send emails. Many a senator and CEO have found themselves on the wrong end of media coverage–and often out of office or out of a job–because they weren’t smart enough to figure this out. Technology, our best friend, can also be our most bitter enemy.

In this case, the phrase “The author doesn’t deliver,” sparked a firestorm of retorts from Hoffman.

Hoffman’s latest novel, The Story Sisters, was released to mostly lackluster reviews, which as any writer knows, can be painful, heart-wrenching, and can make you want to mutilate a tree–or something. But rare is the author to which a bad review has not happened. It just happens. It’s like the carrots WITH the peas, people.

We have had discussions about whether or not an author should ever respond to or try to defend a book to a bad review. Whenever we’ve talked about it with the MSW ladies and our posse (heh! MSW Posse. I like it!) the conclusion is almost always unanimous and always the same: If you are tempted to address a bad review, the short answer is “don’t.”

It is necessary to put the review, the reviewer, and anyone who might want to ask you about it on “ignore” and move on.

Hoffman did not do this. In fact, she not only did not do this, but she used the currently fabulously popular technology of Twitter to address it, the reviewer, and everything she thought the reviewer was lacking.

You can currently read the tweets that erupted from Hoffman. They are more like fire from a dragon, but I understand her desire to defend her baby. I do. But it resulted in a backlash for Hoffman that has resulted into her complete disappearance from Twitter. (But again, let me warn you. Nothing is EVER gone from the Internet. You can currently read her page from the link I provided.)

Now, my take on the review was that the reviewer did not love the book. That stings. Of course it does. But it happens to every single author. Not everyone is going to love your book. Period. If you find an author who has received nothing but positive reviews, I’d like you to point them out to me. I don’t believe that author exists.

Take, for example, this review, received for the book The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. I ADORED this book. Loved it. Stroked the pages as I was reading it. This reviewer? Not so much.

This was, quite simply, the most hateful book that I have ever read. This 550 page diatribe against Western Civilization in general & white, male, able-bodied, Christians in specific, is shockingly intolerant. Moreover, it is filled with a kind of self-loathing that makes one question the author’s mental stability. And if all that’s not enough, it is crammed with a Soviet view of Congolese history that’s barely worthy of Oliver Stone. I hardly know where to start.

Musta been a different book than the one I read.

The bottom line truth? A review is NOTHING more than someone’s opinion. It is necessary to put it into perspective, and not react, as tempting as it might be to hunt down the reviewer, cover them in honey, and introduce them to an army of red ants. (No! I have never considered this! Not ever.)

For Hoffman, her Twitter-indiscretion has resulted in some unfortunate publicity she really probably could have done without. Not only that, but even though her Twitter account has now been deleted, it can still be found online, and people are still talking about it.

In her anger, Hoffman even gave out the reviewer’s phone number and personal information.

Some of her Tweets were about the ability to finally respond back to reviewers.

An email to a reviewer is hate mail? But a a hateful review is a love letter?20 minutes ago from web

Critics can say as they please, but no one else can? You open the door and it’s open.22 minutes ago from web

While I understand Hoffman’s motivation, I think we, as writers, have a duty to step back and examine the system. Again, a review is nothing but someone else’s opinion, objective or otherwise.

As it is, nobody looks bad here but an extremely talented and beautiful writer. And that makes me sad.

So, speak up, MSW Posse Members. What do you think about the Alice Hoffman situation?

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I work for the Federal government, and since they have an interesting way of hiring people, I am often surrounded by people who are, well, interesting! In fact, some of these people people are challenged in ways you don’t always see on a worksite.

For example, the lady that works across from me is always stoned. Some days are worse than others. Some days she can barely talk, and other days we wish she couldn’t talk, because she is not very nice.

I am not the slightest bit worried that she will ever read this post, because they recently gave her a computer, because we are all supposed to be using them, and she reacted by setting her new computer on top of the garbage can. That was rather symbolic and funny, but the bosses didn’t think so. They let her know that she will not do that with her computer again. So she just hides it behind her book that has pictures of Jim Morrison pasted throughout it.

She idolizes him, and frankly, that says a lot about her character, because she idolizes a man who was found dead, in a bathtub, of a drug overdose.

She has been known to put the stinkeye on people when they piss her off, and I’ve heard she practices voodoo and witchcraft, so I’ve tried really hard not to piss her off. Or wake her up. Because it’s so hard to get a good eight hours of sleep when you are at work. They just don’t make it very comfortable. I’d like to suggest beds and pillows, at least for her. One day she fell asleep head down on her desk, pencil in hand, and didn’t move for two hours. Finally, I told the lead she had better check on her because I was not entirely certain she was breathing, and that really would not make my day.

She was just sleeping deeply.

There are also some hygiene challenged people at work, and I just want to say, “Here is the soap. Here is the toothpaste. Do you know what they are used for?” I doubt it would help, though.

One day, my friend Heather and I got into a great discussion. We were trying to decide what was worse. Someone who was stinky or someone who was stupid. She thought the stupid people were worse. After all, you can tell a stinky person they need to bathe.

I countered with, “Well, yeah, but what if they are stinky and stupid? Maybe that’s the problem.”

Deep thoughts. I know.

Working environments are always interesting to me. I am currently reading a book that features a journalist, and his experiences at his paper remind me of the time I worked for The Salt Lake Tribune. We had some pretty interesting people working there, too. Back then, quite a few people made it a habit to have two hour liquid lunches, and one of our copy editors regularly came back inebriated. One time he got his arms stuck in the filing cabinet. It was pretty amusing.

I like realistic environments in books I am reading, and I like to create those in my own writing. I worked for a while at the sheriff’s office here in my county, and I got to know these people. Cops are so interesting to me.

I think my time working there made it more realistic. And I would have to really research to place characters in an environment that I was not familiar with.

I just read a book that I found hard to swallow, because it was written by someone who obviously did not understand or know the environment she was writing about.

They say write what you know. Do YOU think it’s possible to write about something you don’t know, and do it realistically? Anyone have any samples of this being done well?

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My series with Penguin Putnam, The Jenny T. Partridge Dance Mystery Series, was the most fun I have ever had writing a book. My other books are dark, twisted, and filled with angst, and in Jenny I found an outlet that was completely different, and probably a lot more like the real me. I have a wicked sense of humor, a sharp tongue, and am impatient, creative, sometimes flighty and yet organized and analytical. To me, those are a lot of the same characteristics Jenny has.

Plus, I can NEVER find my phone and my keys. I swear, I can answer every question on Jeopardy, but please do not ask me where I put my keys, say, two minutes ago, because I cannot tell you!

But life doesn’t always go the way we want, and sadly I will not be writing more Jenny books, but still have some deep, dark, twisted books to write.

I have always enjoyed reading this kind of fiction, especially when well-written and filled with the kind of dark human emotion that makes you dig deep inside yourself for something more. For compassion. For caring.

And writing it has always appealed to me as well. My viewpoint, I know, is a little different than many, and that has led to a lot of angry emails in my direction. But the bottom line truth is, there is always more than one story. Always. There is ALWAYS a darker, more twisted version of what you see on the surface. I love going deeper to find that other story.

Because the truth is, EVERYONE has a story, and everyone has a dark side to the story. I was talking to my friend the other day about someone we both know. This person is filled with jealousy, consumed, really. She cannot handle the fact that others are more successful than she is, but she is completely unable to look deep within herself and see that SHE is the problem. The way she treats people is the reason why her formerly successful business is now crumbling around her.

And we were trying to decipher just exactly what made her this way. I offered that I knew something had happened to her as a young child, something that scarred her. But my friend countered back that she had had the EXACT same experience and it didn’t turn HER into a bad person. I would never even have known that this thing happened to my friend, because she does not run her life that way. She is one of the most positive, upbeat, wonderful people I know.

My point here, I guess, is that if you dig deeper, get to know someone more, you find out things you never would have believed. Everyone has a story.

That’s why dark suspense is so much fun to write. Maybe fun isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s inspiring, and heartfelt, and REAL. It’s not surface, light, and frothy.

I am a fan of light and frothy, but I am good at dark and twisted. So it’s time to get back to the book. And I think this one is going to be even better than WIVES AND SISTERS. After all, I have a whole new dimension to pull from.

What kind of books do you prefer? Or, like me, do you prefer a mix?

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