On Tuesday, I got an email that many writer’s dread.

The copy department wants a synopsis.

This is particularly dire when you, the author, DID actually send in a (very) brief synopsis weeks ago. They want more.

This doesn’t surprise me because I only sent them one long paragraph that I wrote as if it were back cover copy, with a few more details. I know there are formulas that people use, and I can write a log line, and I can put together the premise and backstory very easily, but I have no idea until I’m in my character’s shoes what they are actually going to do.

From this synopsis the copy department will be writing the back cover copy. And while the author (usually) gets to review and edit the cover copy, if there are errors of story they sometimes end up being released. Sure, they’ll be fixed for print, but it can take weeks to have the correct cover copy replicate to all the online sites. Sometimes they never do. Some on-line e-tailers have the never approved, mistakening released cover for KILLING FEAR … or the original cover for THE PREY that was pulled six months before release date because booksellers wanted more movement on the cover.

While the cover issues weren’t really anyone’s fault–the covers needed to be changed for a variety of reasons–back cover copy seems to stay longer in cyberspace and is harder to change. Don’t ask me why!

So I REALLY need to get my synopsis in order because I only have a few dozen very rough pages for STALKED that I know aren’t going to make it past the next two weeks. The deeper I get into the story, the more I realize the opening is all wrong.

I put that aside to work on the synopsis and thinking about where the story was going, or rather, where I THINK the story is going.

To be honest, my rough drafts and my final drafts have little to no resemblance.

In the first draft of THE PREY–the one that Ballantine bought and my editor gave me notes on–FBI Agent Quinn Peterson dies in an explosion near the end of the book. After reading the notes, I resurrected him. Good thing, because he ended up being the hero of THE HUNT. And while the first 300 pages didn’t drastically change in that first book, the last 150 pages were totally rewritten. The ending was completely different.

SILENCED will be my 18th book. Instead of the ending changing–that, more or less, stayed the same–the first half of the book was drastically rewritten. The premise changed (somewhat.) In my editorial letter, my editor wisely pointed out that the story started in the wrong place. I kept referring back to a pivotal event that had happened one week before. Why not write that scene?

I did. It’s now chapter two.

That’s why I was terrified about writing the synopsis for STALKED. I know my first 100 pages are going to be rewritten. They may even be completely deleted. I’ve rewritten the openings of all my books multiple times, both in my drafts and after editorial notes. (I’m sure there’s some deep psychological reason for this, but for me, the first act is just damn hard to write. It takes me twice as long to write the first 150 pages as it does to write the last 300.)

But I wrote the expanded synopsis. It went from roughly 250 words to 1300. And when I got to the end, I realized that I had a little problem. While I didn’t know how the story unfolded, I THOUGHT I knew who the killer was.

I don’t. As I thought about the killer as I envisioned him, I “tracked” him down as Lucy would. And I realized … he’s innocent. Yes, the murder has everything–and nothing–to do with him, but he’s not a killer.

In the synopsis, I wrote:

Lucy pulls the files of the people she thinks are most likely to have a connection to this case, and the answer is immediately clear.

I really, really hope that when (if) this scene actually happens, that the answer is clear to Lucy, because I have no effing idea.

The synopsis for STALKED is truly dreadful. But one good thing came out of writing it: excitement. I’m truly excited to find out what happens after Lucy finds the dead body of her favorite instructor at Quantico.

I just ordered a case of LOVE ME TO DEATH to give away at an event. But I’m going to give away FIVE copies here. BETTER, I’m going to let YOU give the copies away. If you comment and win, you get to choose any book from my backlist for YOU, and I’ll also send a friend a copy of Lucy’s first book, LOVE ME TO DEATH–signed, giving you credit for the gift. AND if more than 100 people comment, I’ll give away TEN packages. (Yes, you can see that I’m being very competitive with Rocki and Lori who always get over 100 comments, so just once I’d love to beat them. Hahahaha.)

So let me ask you a question: which is more important, the cover or cover copy? Can you see why I begged to have the KILLING FEAR cover tweaked?

SILENCED is now up for pre-order! Visit my website for all the links, cover copy, and an excerpt.

Three times in two days I’ve been asked who would play my characters in a movie. I have a few I absolutely know–like Timothy Olyphant as Sheriff Nick Thomas in SPEAK NO EVIL. Or Timothy Olyphant as the sociopath Theodore Glenn in KILLING FEAR. Or Timothy Olyphant as Sheriff Tyler McBride in TEMPTING EVIL. Or . . . well, he can pretty much play any character he wants to Yes, I’m a bit obsessed.

Timothy Olyphant as hero:

(BTW, JUSTIFIED is the best show out there today–just FYI if you haven’t seen it! It’s on F/X. Wednesdays at 10 pm)

Someday, I would love to go through all my characters (villains and heroes and heroines) and decide who I think would be best at portraying them. But it would take me all night . . . and then some! So I decided to focus tonight on the main characters in the Lucy Kincaid series.

I could see Lucy as a television series more than on the big screen, because there are so many plot possibilities to “stand alone” even under the arc of the first book, LOVE ME TO DEATH. So if I was casting her series, here are some of the actors I would look at:

Lucy Kincaid
Lucy is a survivor, older than her years, Cuban-American, and very serious. She’s also smart, athletic, and prone to panic attacks that she hides from her family. She’s compassionate and resourceful. She’s lost her ability to relax and have fun, without serious prompting.

I had no one in mind, until I started watching DETROIT 187 and then Natalie Martinez seemed to fit the bill. She’s not exactly how I picture Lucy, but I think she could get into her personality very well. However, her boobs may be too big.

Other actresses that came to mind: Evangeline Lilly (LOST) (except for the light eyes)

Or Rebecca Hall

Sean Rogan
Sean is a genius, can be lazy, a “reformed” bad boy/ladies man. He is a geek in many ways (he loves his gadgets) and he is probably too attached to his car (a black Mustang GT.) He has a love-hate relationship with law enforcement, hates bullies, fights for the underdog–even if it means breaking the law. He likes to have fun–his motto, “Work smart, play hard.”

Most of the actors I like for Sean are too serious . . . he’s Irish, dark hair and blue eyes. But these come to mind:

Milo Ventimiglia. Probably not buff enough, but I just adore him

Joshua Jackson. He can do serious and laugh.

Ryan Reynolds. Just . . . I don’t know. He has a great look, but might be TOO light.

Ian Somerhalder might be too serious, but he has a terrific look and smile and an edge I love. I could see him as Sean

And D.J. Cotrona, also from DETROIT 187. A great look, but maybe too short for Sean. He might actually work better for Patrick . . . though Patrick looks more Irish than the rest of his family.

Then there are the secondary characters for the series.

FBI Agent Noah Armstrong, a by-the-book former Air Force Raven who doesn’t like Sean because he’s a Rogan . . . and Noah has had run-ins with Rogan’s.

Maybe David Anders? I’ve loved him ever since ALIAS, and thought he was one of the best characters on HEROES.

And the head vigilante (not to give away any spoilers by naming him), maybe Dylan McDermott. Not a lead role, but absolutely pivotal and a potential scene stealer.

Kate Donovan, Lucy’s sister-in-law . . . how about January Jones?

And FBI Agent Suzanne Madeaux in KISS ME, KILL ME–early 30s, blonde, beautiful, with attitude, I think Kristen Bell would be perfect.

And remember . . . KISS ME, KILL ME, book two in the Lucy Kincaid series, went on sale Tuesday. My mom thinks it’s even better than LOVE ME TO DEATH. RT Book Reviews 4-1/2 star review said: “[A] riveting new series. … Lucy continues to be a fascinating and enticing character, and her ongoing development adds depth to an already rich brew of murder and mystery. Brennan rocks!”

So now, tell me . . . who do you think should play the Lucy? Sean? Noah? Kate? Patrick? Dillon? Anyone else? Let’s have some fun, share your thoughts (no spoilers!) and someone will win a $25 gift card to the bookstore of your choice.

Before I started seriously writing, I read a minimum of one book a week. Usually two or three books a week, in addition to school or work or raising the kids. When I was on maternity leave with my son in the summer of 2001, I read 77 books in four months. Two of those books — THE THIRD VICTIM by Lisa Gardner and THE SEARCH by Iris Johansen — jumpstarted my dormant writing. I’d put aside writing when I started having kids, because raising kids + working full time = no time for writing. I changed that in March of 2002 by giving up television.

In March of 2003 I had another baby, Brennan #4, (yes, I know how babies are made) and while my maternity leave was shorter (I didn’t have enough accrued sick and vacation time for the full four months), I still only read 4 books in two months. Four. Books. Why? Because I spent all my free time writing.

My reading dwindled down to a book a month, sometimes two. Nowhere near the five books a week I’d been reading in 2001. A few years ago, realizing that I was only reading my die hard, never fail me authors and galleys for blurbs, I committed myself to reading one book a week.

The only reason I can say I read 52 books or more each year for the last three years is because I’ve judged the RITA and the Thriller awards. I AVERAGED one book a week, but I binged–reading 5 books one week, then nothing for a month.

I’ve gotten better about this, though again, I’m back down to two books a month. I’m FIVE BOOKS behind in the JD Robb series. I used to make a personal commitment that I’d read the newest book before the next came out, and now I’m far behind.

I did read the last Lisa Gardner and Tess Gerritsen books the week they came out, but I have Robert Crais’s latest, and haven’t cracked the spine — though it’s Joe Pike and I love Joe Pike.

I buy a lot of books I don’t end up reading. I give many to my mom, and others sit on my shelf glaring at me to open them and read them. I want to. But I get lost in good books. I can’t write, I just want to finish reading the book. Which is why I read a book on every plane trip, because I read fast and if it’s good, I’ll finish it while sitting in the airport with my baggage, or right when I check into the hotel. I read ICE COLD by Tess Gerritsen flying back from Thrillerfest last year, and I had 40 pages when I got home. That night, after the kids went to bed, I finished it. I had to. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep otherwise!

To put me back on track to read one book a week, I decided that I needed a theme. Or, rather, a hobby of sorts. Okay, not so much a new hobby, as it involves reading, but I’ve embarked on a new project: I’m reading crime fiction and suspense “classics” that I missed over the years. Books that I always meant to read, but never got around to.

I started with THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY (1955) by Patricia Highsmith. I never saw the movie, and I had always wanted to read the book. I picked it first because she wrote it in the viewpoint of a sociopath. And she does it extremely well. I’m almost done–hope to finish this weekend. (As well as the old JD Robb I’m trying to finish in my effort to catch up!)

Next up in my classic tales of murder and crime, is A KISS BEFORE DYING (1953) by Ira Levin. Another tale of a sociopath, but this one plotting the murder of his pregnant girlfriend. (Hmm, I’m sensing a theme to my selections!) I picked this because my pal and Murderati blog mate Robert Gregory Browne recommended it a year or two ago. I bought it, then it sat on my shelf. Now, it’s at the top of my TBR pile.

Then, it’s THE SIMPLE ART OF MURDER (1950) by Raymond Chandler. I picked Chandler because I hadn’t read anything by him. I’ve read several Dashiell Hammett books–THE THIN MAN, THE DAIN CURSE, and THE MALTESE FALCON) — but none by his contemporary. I picked this book because it’s a collection of short stories and I’ve been writing (and reading!) a lot of short stories lately. While I hope to get to it before the end of February, because I have a book due in March and a release at the end of February, this might have to wait until April.

And then, I’ll decide which 1940s or 50s crime classic I’ll read next.

What about you? Is there a classic book–anything published before 1960 let’s say–that you’ve always wanted to read but never did? THE ODYSSEY by Homer? (I read it in high school, then had to read THE ILIAD in Latin for third year Latin. I remember the former, but not a word of the latter.) Or THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald? (I read in high school and loved it; I think I was one of the few. It was the voice. I also had a fascination with Evelyn Waugh when I had to read THE LOVED ONE in school. A satire, but it stuck with me for years. When I first drove past Forest Lawn in L.A., 10 years after reading the book, it was the first thing I thought of!) Or maybe TESS OF THE D’URBERVILLES (depressing), ATLAS SHRUGGED by Ayn Rand (brilliant, if a bit over-written–I prefer the simple, straightforward ANTHEM), or THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN by Twain (fabulous story, I’ve read a lot of Twain. I prefer this book to TOM SAWYER, but think I like his short stories the best.)

Something else? What tickles you? What have you always wanted to read but haven’t . . . and don’t want to admit it? I promise, it’s a secret–just between us, here at Murder She Writes. Share, and I’ll enter you in a contest — I’m giving away five copies of LOVE ME TO DEATH to friends! Meaning, you win, you get to pick a friend you want to give my book to. I’ll sign it, credit you with your thoughtfulness, and send it off to your lucky buddy! You get all the credit, and I (hopefully) get a new reader.

I spent Tuesday night with James Ellroy.

Okay, not all night. Just a few hours with Mr. Ellroy and a group of reporters–plus the talented and extremely nice Stephen Schwartz from my alter-blog, Murderati.

The bestselling novelist of 18 books, Mr. Ellroy is most famous for his bestselling novels THE BLACK DAHLIA and L.A. CONFIDENTIAL. He also has a tragic personal story, as he lost his mother in 1958 to murder.

We all met at the Langham Hotel in Pasadena for a bus tour for Mr. Ellroy to promote his new television series, “James Ellroy’s LA: City of Demons” on the Investigation Discovery. The purpose was to hold the press captive for three hours to sell the show, while also giving us a tour of some famous L.A. crime scenes. During the drive from Pasadena to Beverly Hills, Mr. Ellroy gave his keynote, a no-holds-barred, vivid, larger-than-life presentation into his past and the upcoming series. He was both arrogant and self-deprecating, an odd combination for a true original, and absolutely entertaining. More than that, he knows what he’s talking about–he’s a walking history book about Los Angeles of the past, and crime in L.A. specifically.

I probably have no need to justify why I went on the bus–Ellroy+crime scenes=fun. But I also like different adventures because you never know when and where a nugget of an idea will form. So I went with my eyes and ears open, to absorb more than anything.

We drove by several houses where murders occurred and through many neighborhoods, including where Ellroy grew up near El Monte. During the drive, he told story after story–mostly teasers about the show, but all related to the seedy underbelly of L.A.–and answered dozens of questions.

We exited the bus once–in front of Lana Turner’s old house in Beverly Hills. The house where Johnny Stompanato, her lover and abuser, died.

I can’t retell the story with Ellroy’s signature style, which recounts the public lives and secret scandals of the 50s and 60s L.A. In a nutshell, Stompanato was a brute and a criminal, and he threatened Lana Turner whenever she tried to get rid of him. Lana didn’t take Stompanato out in public–it wouldn’t fit her image–and took her daughter, Cheryl, to the Academy Awards where she won Best Actress for Peyton Place. Apparently, Stompanato was furious about that, and shortly after the awards ceremony had a huge fight. Cheryl, fearful for her mother and herself, took a knife from the kitchen and walked into her mother’s bedroom, where Stompanato was yelling at her. He turned and impaled himself on the knife. The homicide was ruled “justified.” In the Investigation Discovery series, Ellroy interviews Cheryl, now in her 60s, about that night.

We also stopped in front of Rebecca Schaeffer’s apartment. This young, talented actress was shot to death by her stalker, an obsessed fan named Robert John Bardo, spawning the first anti-stalking laws in California. She was 21 in 1989 when she was murdered. I remember the tragic case vividly–I’m sure many MSW readers do. Bardo’s in prison for life, but Rebecca is dead, and that just doesn’t seem right to me.

Ellroy himself is a character, and while a lively speaker who loves alliteration (he writes about the series, “You’ll get in-depth interviews with witless witnesses, preening prosecutors, insipid investigators, and jaded jurors”), personally he’s an introvert who doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t own a cell phone or computer, watches no television and few movies, and prefers to be alone in the dark to think and listen to Beethoven. In his words, “Thinking, brooding, planning.” He’s unapologetically conservative and an apologist for LAPD, and emcee of the Los Angeles Police Historical Society’s Jack Webb awards which recognizes supporters of law enforcement. (Yes, Jack Webb is from Dragnet.)

One reporter asked what he loved about Beethoven and Ellroy’s response was quietly passionate, and very earnest–in some ways more real than anything else he’d said in his presentation because it wasn’t an expected question. Beethoven’s music is a gift from God, that became even more amazing as Beethoven became deaf. Akin to a miracle, and I’m sure many would agree. But the eloquence and heart he spoke with told me that Beethoven was his passion, making Ellroy seem, to me, less a showman and more human. And after that everything I’d listened to up to that point took on a more complex and deeper meaning.

Ellroy, who admits he doesn’t really like people very much, likes the police as a group because they are the only organized group of people who hate the men who prey on women and children as much as he does.

I could go on for another thousand words about the bus ride, but I can’t do Ellroy justice. I will be watching the show, because it’s sure to be over-the-top and fun, while also biting and authentic. I’ll even watch though he told everyone that he’s “over” serial killers stories and doesn’t like them, dashing my hopes of getting a future book endorsement from him. (As long as there are plenty of other readers who still like what I write!)

Several little things stuck in my mind that I’ve been mulling over–tidbits that may find themselves in future books.

The first thing was his comment that events change the focus of investigations. Specifically, that some murders go unsolved because of completely unrelated events that divert the attention of the citizenry. For example, the case of Stephanie Gorman. Ellroy surmised that the case would have been solved had she not been murdered a week before the Watts Riots, which diverted media attention and police attention. He cited a few other cases that fell into that category, and I started thinking about that as well. Crimes before and after 9/11, for example. Or Hurricane Katrina. When the world seems to be falling apart around you, when hundreds or thousands are dead or dying, homeless and sick, how does anyone have the time or resources to focus on just one murder? It truly had me considering a myriad of ideas, just little threads that someday will make sense to me.

Ellroy is obsessed with understanding misogynistic violence. His mother, Jean Hilliker, who was raped and murdered; Elizabeth Short; other unsolved cases around Los Angeles. As he said, “What moves men to such rage?” Nearly everything he writes about involves, ultimately, the question of Why? Why do people kill? Why do men rape and murder women? Why do they exhibit such rage in the murders?

The why of crime definitely motivates my writing, and I suspect many other crime fiction writers. We want to understand, we have an almost primal need to understand why people do what they do, especially violence. Because we truly don’t understand, so we’re constantly seeking ways to get it. If we understand, maybe we can stop it. But can we understand the horrid and unspeakable crimes perpetuated on the innocent?

In fiction, we can right wrongs we see in everyday life. We can fight the bad guys and win. We can solve crimes and give justice to our fictional victims, maybe as a little lie to ourselves that we’re really fighting for justice in real life. It’s fiction, but it’s fiction that explores the very best and very worst in people.

For those interested in James Ellroy’s LA: City of Demons show, it premieres on January 19, 2011, at 10 p.m. on Investigation Discovery.

What do you think about true crime shows? True crime books? I’m fond of IN COLD BLOOD by Truman Capote simply because it was the first true crime book I read. I’m partial to books about criminal psychology, probably in my search to understand the why of violent crime. What are some of your favorites? Share with the rest of the class and you’ll be in the running for one of two $20 gift cards (to Amazon or BN.com) to celebrate LOVE ME TO DEATH hitting #20 on the New York Times bestseller list!

I don’t know about you, but I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions. It seems somehow cruel and unusual punishment to start a brand spanking new year with a lot of baggage already strapped on my back, expectations of how I should behave and things I should do and goals I have to work toward. I mean, really, it’s the first freaking day of the new year. I kinda would like to break it in a little, like new shoes, get the feel of it, decide whether or not it fits right or if it needs some soft padding or maybe to be exchanged for the comfy tennis shoes. Or something. [I just spent six hours playing with the g-kid. I have no brain cells left. Pretend that metaphor worked. Thank you.]

What I do like to do on my birthday, though, is reflect on aspects of my life that I see need improving. When I hear a description of me from someone that doesn’t fit, I won’t worry about it. But if I hear it three or four times, from different sources, then it pings, hard, and I force myself to take a steely-eyed assessment and see if it’s something that can be improved, and if I want to improve it, and if the answer to both of those is ‘yes’–then I work on how to accomplish that improvement. [Sometimes, I'll hear the description and realize that it's probably a flaw, but it's a flaw I'm not gonna change, so screw it, because I'm comfortable with it. That's the absolutely wonderful joy of getting older--you get more comfortable in your own skin, you have people who love you the way you are and you aren't chasing some vague notion of who you might be when you grow up. I pretty much love the age I am, which is 48.]

One of the great advantages of the above plan is that my birthday is in the middle of the year, so I get to feel like I’m playing hooky from actual resolutions for the first half of the year. I reflect on the birthday, put some things into motion and usually have either accomplished those things or have gotten them incorporated into my life enough that I feel like they’re going to be successfully integrated, and by the time New Year’s rolls around, I’m relaxed about the whole “goals” thing. But in honor of the impending New Year approaching this weekend, I decided that I would give great thought to what my resolutions would be, if I were to make resolutions, and I realized that I had things I would resolve not to do. Herewith, therefore, is the list:

I RESOLVE:

1. NOT TO become Supreme Commander of the Universe. I know, I know, there was a write in vote and everything, but after my hand cramped after much consideration, I realize that maybe the fact that I still cannot organize my pantry well enough to not have things in there that expired back when my oldest son was eight indicates that I shouldn’t be organizing anything on a global scale.
2. NOT TO eat the chocolate I find in the back of the kids’ closet if it’s older than eight… er… ten… er… fifteen years. Okay, eighteen, but that’s my final offer.
3. NOT TO hand the next passive aggressive bully their ass on a plate, even if they’ve baited me, even if they’ve drawn a big honking mofo target on their ass and wiggled it in public. I will rise above. I will be Zen, people, even if it kills me.
4. NOT TO fling buggers at said person. But I’ll think about it.
5. NOT TO become an astronaut, a physicist, or Angelina Jolie’s new BFF. (Well, I had to at least include one item that I could accomplish. I’m nothing, if not efficient.)

Okay, your turn.

Since I won’t be posting again until after the first, I hope you all have a really happy New Year’s!

(And don’t forget the e-reader contest I’m sponsoring to celebrate Allison’s new release this week of LOVE ME TO DEATH — for a shot at a free Kindle or Color Nook, check out the blog from Tuesday to see the rules and go tweet!)