(Crash) Landings

I’ve seen my share of airports, ferry terminals, bus stations, train stations and gas stations. 25 countries on four continents isn’t too shabby for one so young. (Be quiet Mr. MacBride!)

I had a deep fear of flying – mostly a contagious condition caught from my mother, who was totally freaked about planes. And from a bad experience in a small Cessna as a kid that made me sick. Other than that one experience, the only travel queasiness I suffer from is seasickness, but that’s another story.

I was settled into my flight to Vancouver so nicely that I’d closed my eyes when we were over the snow-topped mountains and opened them when we were over ocean. I wasn’t really asleep, just a pseudo-sleep thing I do sometimes when I’m tired.

I love flying in over the ocean in Vancouver. If you’ve ever been there, you know how the runways go right out over reclaimed land – former ocean floor turned into Vancouver airport property. So you literally look like you’re going into the water until you’re over pavement.

This landing was so smooth, I wasn’t even sure if we’d touched down until I heard the brakes. Then I knew I was home – my second home.

And I love Westjet. I haven’t had a bad flight yet, and I always fly Westjet, given the choice. Yes, I am a westerner.

On the way home we stopped in Kelowna, so I had two landings for the price of one. And not just a take-off over the Pacific, but the image of rising above Lake Okanagan, still partially covered in ice. Turbulence in Kelowna though, a bit of a bumpy descent and a definite jump or two on the runway.

Which, of course, doesn’t compare to my scariest landing ever. Japan airlines felt the need to turn the bigscreen tv’s to the external camera’s on landing, and the people right in front of the screens screamed their heads off. I never realized how close the plane could come to going off the runway and have to be jerked back on course, and yet it felt like a very good, smooth landing.

Arriving back in Calgary was a shock. Oh, smooth. I was so engrossed in A Field of Darkness - a fabulous debut by an exceptional author that I hardly noticed until we were taxiing to the gate. Except for the Westjet jokes and singing, which are customary at the end of every flight. But the shock was, I went from +8 spring weather to the –13 blanket of snow. Except the blanket was like 3 overstuffed comforters stitched together.

And, of course, the holiday was over. And I was back.

Some of you know about my current legal situation, regarding the mineral rights on our property that a thieving energy company started extracting with the convenient use of directional drilling in 2004. They were stopped in 2005. Though we’ve yet to see a dime.

Now – despite the fact that we negotiated a sale but our bank has not authorized it because they don’t seem to feel it’s a fair shake, and the energy company knows this – they’ve taken legal action to take our rights away from us. There will be more about this in the days to come, no doubt.

But something else was waiting. To do with the writer’s group I blogged about a few weeks ago.

I have responsibilities in the group. Although I decided not to return to the group physically or renew my membership in the fall, I did not “RESIGN” from the group or my position. The person who did my job last year only attended 50% of the meetings. Attendance obviously wasn’t essential.

I’ve attended every meeting thus far. So I’m not attending anymore. Big frickin’ deal – I’m still at 60%+.

I paid my membership fees. I’ve spent a lot in expenses I’ve never been reimbursed for because of my board responsibilities, and I still have expenses to incur. And since I’m a member, technically, until the end of September this year when my membership lapses, I have a right to listen to the audio files on the website (if they ever update them – still can’t find any past October) and get my newsletter downloads. It’s my choice.

But I received a letter instructing me to turn over all materials required for the rest of the year to the president so she can give them to my replacement.

Hmmph.

You see, I’ve done 98% of the work for this year already. Booking program is front-loaded. The program was finalized before September. My major contributions were December and January, when I was on panels. I’m not responsible for the June meeting at all.

But I am the contact person for the speakers each month, including March, April and May. I’ve arranged for them to be introduced at those meetings.

And I have the thank you cards here, ready to mail out (and I pay for the postage. And the paper.)

The only thing I have left to do is email the speakers for April and May (March is done) and make sure they have all they need and they should, because I did my job months ago.

So, you know, it isn’t much stuff left to do. And I’m big on fulfilling my commitments.

No matter how I feel about certain people in the group, my issues are primarily personal. A select number of people have tarnished the whole experience. Were it not for an increasing stream of abusive emails from a select number of people – really just a few specific ones that others failed to address despite being aware of them, I would have stayed with the group but not attend meetings next year. In fact, I fought pretty hard to keep the personal conflicts out of the group, until one person attacked me via group email. Then private became public, except nobody else had the context – or bothered to even ask what the hell was going on.

My main problems prompting the decision to not attend meetings next year had to do with location and incidents when I was arriving/leaving, to the point where my husband started waiting with me until I had full access to the building and wasn’t alone.

Plus the time factor. Attending a meeting was not an evening out, and with our life schedules, I can’t manage getting home at 11 pm and getting up at 4:30 am. The rest of my week was a write-off, and that was getting frustrating, because with the need to run errands before meetings (to do photocopies for speakers and such) it meant two days were pretty much shot.

Plus pressure to do more. I only joined in Sept. 2004, yet I spent both years on the board, served on three committees and virtually single-handedly organized the group’s only workshop because exactly one person volunteered to be on the committee, and nobody wanted a big share of responsibility. I made sure I recruited people for the small and last-minute things, but the rest was mine. And it was an enormous job.

On the one hand, I could just dump my responsibilities now and walk away. It isn’t like I asked to do this or resigned. I simply made it abundantly clear I wasn’t returning to the group, and I did this to a select group of people - the ones who didn’t stand up and say ‘what the hell’ when the shit hit the fan. I haven’t sent out a public resignation letter.

But I’ve approached this with the following decisions:

1. I’m fulfilling my responsibilities, not dumping them on people – save one thing – I’ve banned a few people from sending me email. Harass me once, shame on you. Harass me again and again, fuck you.

2. I won’t name names. The people I’ve had problems with, it’s between me and them. Many people wouldn’t be able to figure it out based on the info available or that I’m willing to share, and that’s fine by me. I’m not getting into that backstabbing bullshit – not when that’s part of what drove me out the door in the end.

3. I have no vested interest in seeing the group die. If it does, it’ll have nothing to do with me making it go down. This is my experience, it’s how it ended up for me. Bottom line is, I learned a lot during my time there and I’m disappointed that personal conflicts escalated to the point where I didn’t feel comfortable in the group. I could have continued going, but I was never going to trust some people again after personal information about me was disclosed, not to mention the harassing emails…

4. I can’t stop people from talking about me. It has happened (part of what contributed to this) and it will happen. Then again, these people have said things about other members too, which was part of the reason I started being cautious. You go from feeling you can say things in confidence (and everyone vents) to feeling really uncomfortable with what you hear about others once it crosses a certain line and then wondering what’s being said about you…until it comes back to you.

The point is, I’m not special.

So, all of this leaves me wondering whether I should:

a. walk away now, like I’ve been pretty much told to
b. fight to fulfill my end
c. ignore the letter entirely and do exactly what I planned to do
d. speak to more members and the uninvolved board members before making a decision

Here’s the other thing. I have no paperwork. I lobbied last year for there to be official email accounts so that they could be transferred to the new board members year to year, with the records, because I never received any information from my predecessor. (Now, there are reasons, and I don’t blame her, knowing what I know now. But last year I was a bit choked.) But the email addy’s never happened. Five frickin’ minutes to set them up – easy breezy. I know – we do it all the time because we use the same host for one of our sites.

So all I’ve got is all my email correspondence, which I’m not planning to print out, as it totals hundreds of emails. And further to that, any condensed version requires me to drop everything and compile this info into some sensible fashion.

I had planned to gather stuff together and meet with the next pc in what I suspected would be April (but probably May because I addressed this issue in January – I was signed on in February last year – and there was no action on it) and review what they needed to know and answer questions.

And I still intended to do that, because it’s not about being shitty to the next person and depriving them of that chance to ask questions and feel confident they can do the job –I’ve certainly figured it out on my own, but I had the benefit of being a conference receptionist years ago, so it wasn’t a big stretch.

And it isn’t about screwing over everyone else in the group either. There are a lot of people I still like there. I’m not calling them all up and telling my side of the story – anyone who contacts me, I’ll meet with, but that’s where I’m leaving it. I’ve had five meetings so far.

But to do this prior to the March meeting on the 9th? With a few days notice? I don’t think so.

I don’t want to drag this out – I want it to not be part of my day to day life anymore and to stop thinking about it, which I pretty much had, save the one-on-one meetings - but as a somewhat prominent person in the group, people will notice my absence. I would have liked to quietly fade next year and given it some time to see what happened, but that isn’t to be.

So the question is, what do I do now? What would you guys do? I know it might seem simple to wash my hands and drop it, but it’s ingrained in me to fulfill my commitments. I’ve known nothing but family who could walk away from each other in a heartbeat – there was always someone not speaking to someone else, and the bitterness runs deep. From that perspective, I could have been pressured into staying, but the well had been so poisoned for me, I had to weigh that out and I’m glad I made the call to withdraw. Everything that’s happened since has shown me that people I thought were friends weren’t at all, and sooner or later, I was going to face that reality. Better sooner. And I’ve had a lot of peace of mind since.

I’m a pathetic judge. I always want to give second chances and yet Kevin pegs people precisely in no time flat. I should know after 6.5 years to just listen to him, and then I would’ve started backing out months ago.

Silly, silly, stupid me.

Now tell me what you think I should do. Because really, I’m almost completely unemotional about it right now. It isn’t like me to be too pragmatic about stuff like this, when it’s personal. But I’m so drained with the legal situation that I just don’t have time or energy to give a damn anymore.

I have fleeting seconds of worry for what will get said about me and distorted and what people will believe that isn’t true.

But like I said, that’ll happen anyway. So is it worth it to hold on a few more months and do this to fulfill my sense of obligation?

It is to the next program chair. I can benefit them. Unless they’re one of the people involved in this present situation. In which case, they created their problem.

But you know, if I really don’t like how I’m being treated by the group I could sue the board…

And seriously, I could send a letter out to everyone with a condensed explanation. I thought that would be pretty low. But not if I’m getting shoved out the door by people proclaiming that I’ve resigned when I haven’t.

Geez, this is so 13-years-old. Fucking women. Whenever there’s a lot of women involved, the claws tend (generalizing here ladies!) to come out and a high percentage can’t separate business and personal. Which means if you lobby for change, it’s a personal attack instead of the right thing to do for the group.

Right. ‘Nuff said. Winners of the contest posted below.

And tomorrow, I’ll strive for shorter. And hopefully, much much sweeter.

But until then, I’m totally psyched about this! Much as I don’t watch the Oscars,Crash is such a worthy Best Picture winner. Compelling, thought-provoking…love that movie.

Drawing Cards (and the winners are...)

So, if I was flat, rectangular and handled regularly by gypsies, what would I be?

You Are The Chariot

You represent a difficult battle, and a well-deserved victory. You tend to struggle to get what you want, both internally and externally. You excel at controlling opposing forces, getting down the same path. In the end, you bring glory and success - using pure will to move forward. Your fortune: There is great conflict in your life right now, either with yourself or others. You must find a solution to this conflict, which is likely to be a "middle road" between the two forces. You posses the skills to triumph over these struggles, as long as your will is strong. You are transforming your inner self, building a better foundation for future successes.

What Tarot Card Are You?

With thanks to James for the link.


And the winners of the contest are...

First, the question was what are the names of the two main characters in Suspicious Circumstances?

The answers: Lara Kelly and Tymen Farraday

Not Supporter Rah Rah Mealy-mouth and Destructive Hymen Onceaday. But thanks for entering anyway...

I felt so sad having to draw a winner that I made evilkev do it. Why?

Because it meant that there were some who didn't win.

And I felt bad enough that I decided to give away TWO copies of the anthology.

Which means that there are two winners.

And the rest of you are, well... Sorry.

The winners:

James Goodman! Wahoo, insert sound of trumpets and smattering of applause.

and

Susan Robinette! Three cheers and a round of beers and loud whistling.

So, James and Susan need to send me their mailing addresses or I can only send them a picture of their prize.

And yes, I'll be back in the morning with a FULL and PROPER post!

Sometimes a knife is just a knife

The Lone Ranger and Tonto were traveling through the desert. Night came and they stopped for the night. After they had set up their tent both men fell asleep.

Some hours later Tonto woke the Lone Ranger up and said, "Kemo Sabe, look towards the sky. What you see?"

The Lone Ranger replies, "I see millions of stars."

"What that tell you?" asked Tonto.

The Lone Ranger ponders for a minute then says, "Astronomically speaking, it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically it tells me that Saturn is in Leo. Time wise it appears to be approximately a quarter past three in the morning. Theologically it tells me the Lord is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What's it tell you Tonto?"

"You are dumber than buffalo crap. Someone stole the tent!"

Yep. Sometimes a knife is just a knife.

I'm not quite home yet, and I've only had limited computer time the past few days - mainly sticking to emails and the odd quick surf here and there. By tomorrow night I should be caught up and back into action.

Or incredibly depressed to leave spring on the coast behind and have to shovel the snow that's accumulated back home.

Wednesday, I mentioned that the New Issue of Spinetingler Magazine was up for download - including stories by fellow bloggers author Tracy Sharp, Dana Y.T. Lin, E. Ann Bardawill, and M.G. Tarquini.

Plus, your's truly interviewing author Tracy Sharp, and author Cornelia Read, and a Backlist Review, featuring the works of John Rickards.

Why am I mentioning it again?

Because I know you guys have been checking it out.

And not just you guys. 1540 people have downloaded the Spring 2006 Issue between Tuesday and Friday of this week. That's more than 380 downloads per day.

And that doesn't include online reads of specific stories, reviews or interviews.

To me, it's amazing. I have had so many people tell me I was wasting my time writing for an ezine, that nobody took them seriously.

Yet we're already full for the Summer Issue - and have been for a while - and have a record number of submissions already in to be considered for Fall.

And we continue to get more and more downloads of the magazine.

I wouldn't say it's true of all ezines. Really, you have to work hard - and invest in it - to make it take off and get attention. You have to set high standards to make sure you're getting quality stories worth publishing.

Fortunately for us, we continue to get better and better stories to read through, and we've had no trouble getting great authors to agree to interviews. In short, we've been fortunate to have a lot of support in the writing world.

And for their support, I must thank Stuart MacBride for telling people about us on his blog, Sarah Weinman, for mentioning us in her weekend update when the interview with Laura Lippman came out and Cornelia Read for making sure she put up a link to the interview on her website right away.

Spinetingler's achievements show two things: their is demand for quality online ezines, and that with the support of others in the writing community ezines can obtain a substantially higher distribution than some print magazines.

It's important for authors who want to promote themselves.

And for writers who just want a venue to read and publish good writing.

With that in mine, be on the look-out for other quality online and print mags - check out my links. Demolition, Crime Scene Scotland...

1540 downloads in 4 days is 1540 downloads. I happen to know, via emails, that we have authors, publishers and agents reading.

Some will twist, some will discount... But 1540 downloads is 1540 downloads.

If you're a writer and have bought into the idea that it's a waste of time to be published in an ezine, all I can say is I beg to differ. It's made a world of difference to me in building my career.

Now, don't forget the contest!

Sandra Ruttan.com has the answer.

Question:

What are the names of the two main characters in Suspicious Circumstances?

Email your answer to me at sandra.ruttan@spinetinglermag.com with the word "contest" in the subject line.

I don't care if you "know" me. I don't care if you're rich and famous enough to buy your own book. And I don't care if you know the answer because you're one of my core readers going over the book to give me feedback right now before the final edits are done.

Just enter the contest! If you don't, I'm going to commission a voodoo doll. And start playing with matches.

And I'll announce the winner sometime on Monday.

See you then,
XO
Sandra

Spinetingler, My Contest and a funny - or not-so-funny - story...

Ah, silence is golden.

That’s what evilkev will be saying for the next few days, as he gets to stay up until all hours playing Grand Theft Auto in my absence.

Yes, I’ll be going through blogdom withdrawal in the extreme. But I leave you with goodies.

The New Issue of Spinetingler Magazine is now up for download or online perusal!

And I see that K. Robert Einarson, aka evilkev, has pinched the photo credit for my picture. Which is sort of justified, because I take credit for most of what he says. At least, if it’s intelligent.

But this issue features stories by fellow bloggers author Tracy Sharp, Dana Y.T. Lin, E. Ann Bardawill, and M.G. Tarquini.

Be sure to visit them and tell them what you thought of their contributions!

Plus, there’s an interview with author Tracy Sharp, (done by yours truly) and part one of my dissection of author Cornelia Read, whose debut book will be my accompaniment on my flight this morning. I expect to have it finished by the time I return.

Plus, I’ve written a Backlist Review, featuring the works of the charming John Rickards.

*****

And, as for that contest, here’s the deal. Sandra Ruttan.com has the answer. And it’s really, really simple.

Question:

What are the names of the two main characters in Suspicious Circumstances?

Email your answer to me at sandra.ruttan@spinetinglermag.com

When I get home on Sunday, I’ll be printing off thousands of entries and tossing them in a box, and on Monday I’ll announce the winner of a signed copy of Spinetingler Magazine’s 2005 Anthology, complete with two stories by me and a story by author extraordinaire, Stuart MacBride.

So try to have fun and not miss me too much.

And I really hope I’m not coming home to one email.

And the anthology is exchangeable for alcohol for people like Stuart, but only if I know you already have a copy!

And on that note, a joke. For Boy Kim, who will miss me.

I think.

Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet.

Here's what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?"

I put my best lizard-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

"Honey," I called, "come look at; "The lizard!"

"Oh my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."

"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"

I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, ( in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together). Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."

"OH, Gross!", they shrieked.

"Well, isn't THAT just Great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too. don't you?)

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.

"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.

"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.

"Okay, okay. " Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly.

We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.

"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back." He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."

We were silent, absorbing this.

"So Ernie's just...just...Excited," my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness. Tears were now running down her face.

"It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

"That's enough," I warned.

We hurriedly bundled the lizards and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed.

2 - lizards - $140...
1 - Cage - $50...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's wacker -..... Priceless

They lay eggs!!!

(Shame I'll miss all your reactions to this one!)

Tuesday Tips: Fatal Flaws and Research

No passion in the world is equal to the passion to alter someone else’s draft. H.G. Wells

Sometimes, we’re simply too close to our own work to see it objectively.

I have experienced this, both as a writer who has looked at something until my eyes burned and the words blurred, and as the reader who has been asked to offer feedback, only to find what the writer really wanted was praise.

I was asked to critique something once, and I won’t use that specific example here. But I’ll use a comparable one.

Imagine a seventeen-year-old Amish girl who’d left her community to live in the big, bad world. She has a contact, a friend who left before her, that knows a person that can teach her how to drive a car.

Only when she goes to meet her friend, he’s on a stretcher, being lifted into the back of an ambulance. The scene is a mess of vehicles – none damaged – blood on the pavement, stressed onlookers and cops in uniform taking statements.

The person who was supposed to teach her how to drive a car approaches the Amish girl and she asks what happened.

He says, “Can you keep a secret?”

She nods.

“It was a 480.”

WTF? Okay, if you’re a cop, you should know what that means.

If you’re an Amish girl and have just moved to the city, that moment of profound revelation falls flatter than a camisole on an undeveloped girl’s chest.

And it is a line just like that that can pull a reader out of the illusion and kill a story for them.

This is trickier than it might seem. We think we can make everything up, but there has been a push for realism in fiction, for writers to make their world seem believable. Readers are increasingly critical, down to nitpicking over historical accuracies, use of proper police procedure, the month of a year that an item was invented or a coin was released… I mean, damn, sometimes writing non-fiction is a lot easier.

This is why it’s important to find people you trust who can look at your work with a critical eye – people who know nothing about it. In the case of the work I referred to, I knew what the phrase used at the end of chapter 1 meant because it had been explained to me. But putting myself in the protagonist’s shoes, there was no way that character would have understood what the term meant, or the significance.

That bothers me more than nitpicky research. When something said in the story is supposed to have significance and yet it contradicts what the character should legitimately know or understand, then I have a problem. It throws the character into doubt for me. Are they really a naïve Amish girl who has just moved to the city, or are they a street-wise punk that’s been studying law enforcement?

One of the most interesting things for me was to research a dog search for Echoes and Dust (or Terms of Redemption). I thought I understood how it was done. I’ve read an extensive amount about dog training and have some limited experience.

And I was wrong.

If I’d set the book in the US, I might have been right. But I wasn’t. And the top dog trainer for the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) not only called me to answer questions but read that portion of the manuscript and then called me again, to tell me what I got wrong.

I had to rewrite the entire scene.

First of all, the RCMP don’t use a scent item for tracking. They don’t stick a shirt under the dog’s nose and tell him to search.

The dogs are trained to search for a general scent trail in the area. This is often more effective, for a variety of reasons.

One is that items of clothing or possessions are often contaminated by other scents when handled. Another is that if a person has fled a murder or robbery, they’re usually running.

Which means sweating.

Which means they leave a strong scent trail, the one the dog is most likely to pick up.

The next thing I’d gotten wrong was that nothing was going to stop this dog from running for hours, certainly not the piddly river I had running through my scene that stopped the search in the story.

Geographically, I needed a wall of rock going up or a Grand Canyon, or an act of God to stop that dog. These dogs are hard-core.

It was a phenomenal experience. It isn’t quite the same as correcting a fatal flaw, but it is a critical piece of research that, neglected, would have jeopardized the believability for some readers.

And you know what the great thing was? Revising the scene not only made it believable, it made it a better.

I'd also made the mistake of writing in a highly trained husky - not in the same scene. No matter how much I read about husky temperaments, it wasn't until a few months after draft 1, when we got Chinook, that I understood just how unbelievable a highly trained husky that could go off-leash and always respond to his owner was.

Anyone who has ever owned a husky would laugh at me.

Oh, it's possible. I've talked to some husky owners who say their dog will always come back. We used to say that about Nootka, that he'd never run off...

Used to.

The bottom line is, it pays to get your facts straight, and I’m really glad I didn’t shrug off the research.

Writers always need to consider that readers may not understand something in our work. We know the story and the characters, but we do not always convey everything precisely in our work.

Read my interview with Cornelia Read in the Spring 2006 Issue of Spinetingler, and hear how a pro dealt with revisions. The attention to detail, to accuracy, is staggering.

And inspiring.

Because great authors try to get things right.

And they understand the value of feedback.

Here's something from someone who never included me and evilkev in their study.

Clearly.

Because he shops more than I do.



***

Now, about that pesky contest, if you didn’t check out the website yet, visit Sandra Ruttan.com and at the bottom of the front page there’s a link to the Quill Review.

Yes, that’s right, I’ve been interviewed. And this time not by the police.

And the interview may, or may not, help you with tomorrow’s trivia contest and question.

Yes, the prize is a copy of the 2005 Spinetingler Anthology, BUT if you have a copy already (Stuart) then a substitute prize may involve alcohol.

Check back tomorrow for the trivia question.

Which may be as simple as, “What is Sandra’s nickname for her husband?”

Or then again, maybe it won’t be…

Another ripple in the pond

What will it mean to the future of publishing when authors like James Frey lie, and authors like Dan Brown are taken to court for charges of stealing other author's work for the popular The DaVinci Code?

My usual post is below, but when I saw this I was shocked to think that we have had so many scandals in the writing world recently. I can't help but wonder if this is some twisted effort to raise authors to the newsworthy level of Hollywood celebrities, or if reckless authors (be it the writer charged or the writers making the charge - I don't know which) are going to undermine the publishing business as a whole.

Your thoughts?

The Fairer Sex, The Fouler Sex?

What men desire is a virgin who is a whore. Edward Dahlberg

Now, I’m going to generalize a bit here, but it’s a bit unfair at times that a man can be crude and that’s fine, because he’s just being a man, but when women talk straight, then they’re being extremely unladylike.

It goes to the heart of Mr. Dahlberg’s comment. There’s still an idea in society that women are supposed to pretend to be all modest and innocent, but once you get behind closed doors it would be good if you aren’t so innocent.

Or even inexperienced, I suppose.

Evilkev and I have been re-watching one of our favourite shows, and we came to one of my favourite lines:

The Greek

You should have had a son.

Vondas

But then I would have had a wife.

Ah yes, one of the great trials of life. Wives. Lord knows I wouldn’t want one.

Especially this one. I mean, it begs some obvious questions about what legally defines a marriage when a seven-year-old girl marries a dog. Because you know, in most places, the lack of some, um, particular bonding activities would nullify the marriage.

And in some places, that’s illegal.

Not to mention…well, okay, never mind. I’m just not going to go there on the blog. I’m sure you’re all wondering the same thing as me and then I have to ask myself, do I really want to know?

I found it rather ironic, though, that I’d just received this.




Jokes play to the stereotypes, but there was something in that which my friend and I both found sadly true.

The tendency of women to be jealous of each other.

It isn’t universally true, but it definitely is something that comes up. It’s certainly something I’ve experienced, both ways.

Do guys get jealous of each other? You know, that just isn’t something I see, in my experience, much. It makes me wonder what it is about women that can make us sweet us pie and tough as nails, loving and generous and yet cruel and vindictive.

Because I see all of that in me. And I think most women have at least seen those extremes in others, even if they haven’t expressed them themselves.

I’ve heard some crime writers talk about how women seem to take things just that bit further, they’re willing to be that much more graphic.

I wonder about that.

Are we more cynical because we have to live with men?

Or are we more competitive because it’s been harder for us to survive independently in the past?

Or are we just more fair on the outside because we're expected to be, and inside balance that out with a foul streak?

Tossing my rambling sexist thoughts aside, I’ve put it out in stages that I’m going to have a contest! And with that in mind, there will be something today and tomorrow I’ll mention, and then on Wednesday, just before I leave town for a few days and abandon you to suffer blogdom without me until next week, I’ll post a trivia question and tell you how to enter.

For now, I leave you with the news that Sandra Ruttan.com is now complete. Until somebody tells me there’s a horrendous typo or something. But you might want to check it out, as it might help you with the trivia contest.

Oh, and the prize is a copy of the Spinetingler Anthology, featuring 2 short stories by me, one that’s only appearing in the anthology, and a previously unpublished short story by The Multi-talented Birthday Boy, Stuart MacBride! Don’t forget to drop by his blog and with the old man happy birthday, you never know how more he’ll have.

I’ll have Tuesday Tips tomorrow and another trivia clue.

And now I expect you all to tell me how right or wrong I am about women.

Or how much you love my website.

The Laws of Nature

Stellar headline.

What's really funny here is that anyone who has ever had to write a headline for print before knows you're supposed to keep them short and sweet. Not only did they go for loooooonnnnng, but they still managed to mess up the message.

Moral of the story: more does not always mean better.

I'm thinking about this as I think about the fact that I have to write a thirty-word blurb for my novel.

And I thought a 500-word synopsis was tough.

So tell me, what is it on a book blurb that will catch your attention?

Oh, and that surprise I was mentioning... I'm going to have a contest. And I'll heavily favour those who post a reply to this post, because I'm petty that way.






Bring on the burritos!








Or don't drink and make signs?

Saturday Smiles

It's the weekend, Saturday specifically, which means that it's time for some r&r. Evilkev and I will head off to the city, try to survive Costco and have our usual weekend breakfast. Eggs, toast and bacon.

I don't know how we got into that habit, but somehow, we did.

And in keeping with my occasional Saturday habit here, I've got a few cartoons for you. Except they're kind of real. One at least I'm sure you'll have seen before, but it's still worthy of a smile.

Prompt attention



Superior city planning



Decisions, decisions


When it's time to change your name



What will you guys be doing today?

The Friday Funnies

For John, because of his special use for cereal.

Not Cheerios

A 6-year-old and a 4-year-old are upstairs in their bedroom.
“You know what?" says the 6-year-old. "I think it's about time we start cussing."

The 4-year-old nods his head in approval.
The 6-year-old continues. "When we go downstairs for breakfast I'm gonna say "hell" and you say "ass."

"OK!" The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.

Their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6-year-old what he
wants for breakfast.

"Aw hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."

WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot
pursuit, slapping his rear every step. The mom locks him in his room & shouts, "You can just stay there till I let you out!"

She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4-year-old, and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast young man?"

"I don't know," he blubbers, "but you can bet your fat ass it won't be
Cheerios."


Yes, that’s right ladies and gentleman and others who frequent this place, it’s time for the Friday funnies.

Brevity. It’s the order of the day. Less me, more to laugh at.

Although some would say more of me is much more to laugh at.

And because I’m a glutton for punishment, especially your punishment, I’ve come up with a usable photo for now.

I’m going to make due for a couple months with this one. Bottom line is, yes, it would be nice to get the professional shot done, but at the pricetag…ouch. Not when I’ve just paid for Harrogate and am registering for BoucherCon and am saving up for my bar tab and, well, frankly, don’t need a headshot for my book yet.

And when I do, I’ll bit the bullet. And hope this wasn’t the early work of the make-up artist.

I must say, I'm disappointed in all of you.

I'm disappointed that, despite my error in not putting the footnote into yesterday's post, nobody took the opportunity to comment on me landing on my head potentially explaining a few things. Shame on you people! You're falling down on the job! Every exposed weakness is supposed to be an opportunity to slam someone. You just aren't cruel enough!

What will next week hold? Well, a mix of writerly and non-writerly topics, as per usual, and a big surprise. I can't tell you, or it would ruin the surprise and I'd have to kill you for spoiling it for everyone.

So don't make me tell you.

I'll likely be posting as usual this weekend, but I hope all of you are doing something far more fun and exciting and that you have a safe, happy time, whatever you're doing.

And on that note, I bring you True Doctor Stories - for M.G.

A man comes into the ER and yells, "My wife's going to have her baby in the cab!"

I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab,
lifted the lady's dress, and began to take off her
underwear.

Suddenly I noticed that there were
several cabs, and I was in the wrong one.

--Dr. Mark MacDonald, San Antonio, TX

At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on
an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's
anterior chest wall.
"Big breaths," I instructed.

"Yes, they used to be,"
remorsefully replied the patient.

--Dr. Richard Byrnes, Seattle, WA

One day I had to be the bearer
of bad news when I told a wife that her
husband had died of a massive
myocardial infarct.

Not more than five minutes later,

I heard her reporting to the rest of the family
that he had died of a
"massive internal fart."

--Dr. Susan Steinberg, Manitoba, Canada


I was performing a complete physical,
including the visual acuity test.

I placed the patient twenty feet from the chart and
began,

"Cover your right eye with your hand."

He read the 20/20 line perfectly.

"Now your left."

Again, a flawless read. "Now both,"

I requested.

There was silence.

He couldn't even read the large E on the top line.

I turned and discovered that he had done exactly what
I had asked; he was standing there with both his
eyes covered.

I was laughing too hard to finish the exam.

--Dr. Matthew Theodropolous, Worcester , MA

During a patient's two week follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor,
that he was having trouble with one of his medications.

"Which one?" I asked. "

The patch.

The nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put it!"

I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I wouldn't see.

Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body!

Now the instructions include removal of
the old patch before applying a new one.

--Dr. Rebecca St. Clair, Norfolk, VA


While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient,

I asked, "How long have you been bed-ridden?"
After a look of complete confusion she answered ...
"Why, not for about twenty years -- when my husband was alive."

--Dr. Steven Swanson, Corvallis, OR


I was caring for a woman from Kentucky and asked,
"So, how's your breakfast this morning?
"It's very good, except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can't seem to get used to the taste," the patient replied.

I then asked to see the jelly and the woman produced a foil packet labeled "KY Jelly."

--Dr. Leonard Kransdorf, Detroit , MI

And Finally, the one worth waiting for
A new, young MD doing his residency in OB was quite embarrassed performing female pelvic exams.

To cover his embarrassment he had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly.

The middle-aged lady upon whom he was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing and further embarrassed him.

He looked up from his work and sheepishly said,

"I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?"

She replied, "No doctor, but the song you were whistling was 'I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener."

--won't admit his name

Pet Peeves

Should children witness childbirth?

Due to a power outage, only one paramedic responded to the call. The house was very, very dark, so the paramedic asked Kathleen, a 3-year-old girl, to hold a flashlight high over her Mommy so he could see while he helped deliver the baby. Very diligently, Kathleen did as she was asked.

Heidi pushed and pushed, and after a little while Connor was born. The paramedic lifted him by his little feet and spanked him on his bottom. Connor began to cry.

The paramedic then thanked Kathleen for her help and asked the wide-eyed 3-year old what she thought about what she had just witnessed.

Kathleen quickly responded, "He shouldn't have crawled in there in the first place......... smack his ass again!"


When I got that joke, it resonated with me. I remember once, I was staying at the friend of a friend’s place. Less than two hours after arriving and meeting her for the first time, the hostess offered to show us the video of her child’s birth.

I would rather scrub vomit off the toilet in a bus station.

Since then, I’ve ranked offers to watch women give birth on video on my top 10 list of pet peeves.

Not that I really have a list, per se. I just know when I see something that rankles me that it’s one of my pet peeves.

The other day I was driving into the city, and I remembered another pet peeves. Crosswalks.

Okay, before all the pedestrians have a coronary, I used to be a true pedestrian. I walked to and from work every single day. I would walk to the malls, although it took me an hour each direction. I was just an avid walker.

But the way that the crosswalks are set up bothers me, and so do the laws that go with them.

We have controlled and uncontrolled crosswalks here. Some, you press a button and a light goes on instantly and people just walk right out. Others, there’s no light, and people walk out as well, hoping people clue in and stop.

I hate the second kind of crosswalk completely. But I have an issue with the first as well.

Why? Because there should be a warning delay. We have warning lights that alert drivers that the light at the intersection ahead is about to change to red. But when someone wants to walk out in front of moving vehicles that can splatter their bodies in bits all over the pavement, there’s no warning.

Really, it isn’t safe for the drivers or for the pedestrians.

What also bothers me about this is that the new generation of kids growing up has the mentality if they point and walk out, the traffic has to stop for them, and they do it without looking to see if the traffic CAN stop for them in time.

I was driving along the Trans Canada highway when I was stewing about this. One would think highways would be exempt from such ridiculous systems, but no. Not here.

And the city council is too cheap to build walk-overs or walk-unders that could save lives.

So instead, they spend money sending firefighters, police and paramedics out to scrape the latest human pancake off the road. What’s another dead pedestrian?

What’s another dented car with a traumatized driver?

Truth is, a lot of drivers don’t pay enough attention. But neither do a lot of pedestrians.

I have my own experience on the subject, because I was hit by a car at the age of 8. Now, I was hit while riding a bike, but it still counts.

Because bicyclists on the road are another one of my pet peeves.

But I’ll resume the story.

I was following my sister home. Riding right on the edge of the road like I’d been taught. There was traffic in both directions because it was shift change time at the Muskoka Center, down the road from where I lived.

A gentleman decided he would try to pass anyway. If he’d been driving a VW Rabbit it wouldn’t have been a problem.

But he was elderly, and he was driving a boat.

To make matters worse, it was his eightieth birthday, and he’d just gone to town to pick up his birthday cake, which was on the front seat.

Until he rammed into the back of me and I flew through the air in perfect synchronization with his cake, which sailed off the front seat. We did our spins and turns and both landed on our heads. My neighbours went to his place for birthday dinner. They said the cake didn't look quite right...

My white t-shirt was blood-soaked by the time I wobbled to my feet. You know what I remember most about that moment?

The asshole who got out of his car and picked up my bike and threw it in the ditch and walked away. Never underestimate the lack of willingness of some people to do the right thing. I mean, so sorry I was blocking traffic for you, buddy.

The other thing I remember was my dad blaming me for the accident. I felt so vindicated when I studied for my license to learn that the law was that bicyclists are entitled to one full lane in passing.

But here’s the deal, it doesn’t matter what the law is. It doesn’t matter what’s right. What matters is that I'm pretty lucky I wasn't dead after that.

Any idiot – whether they’re punk kids street racing that don't have enough time to stop or lose control and plow into people, or one that thinks that driving around with a ‘baby on board’ sign swinging wildly in the back window gives them a free pass on paying attention, or one that thinks they can hold their liquor - can run into you and take your life away in the blink of an eye. (I don’t mean to pick on 99% of parents. Just the few that make everyone else look bad.)

Now, I’ve also been hit by a drunk driver. Fortunately, he was one of those that moved slooooooowwwwwwly when drunk, but that’s another story.

While thinking about my annoyance about how crosswalks are set up, I started to realize what’s really at the root of the problem.

Money, and indifference.

Governments are too cheap to invest upfront in building walk-overs and walk-unders, and they don’t even put the lights up at all marked crosswalks, which makes some exceptionally hard to see, even in average driving conditions.

And people are too lazy to fight for change.

We often tend to wait until something affects us before we’re willing to take action on it. It’s human nature, I suppose.

This was on my mind yesterday, when evilkev told me the local town council wants to slash the fire department's annual budget.

Know how much it cost to have a fire department here last year? Less than $30,000 Canadian dollars. They barely pay the firefighters - likely works out to about a 50 cents per hour for all the time they put in. And the town uses the fire station, so they waste gas and electricity and supplies that come out of the fire department's budget.

But they still want the department to spend less.

So the chief said that the next time one of their houses caught fire, the department had a way to save some money...

I told evilkev that they'd better believe that if slashing the budget caused my home to burn down, I would sue the town's ass off. And you better believe that if they don't change their tune, I'll be having a few things to say to them at a town meeting.

Plus writing a letter to the editor...

Kevin always thinks I overreact about stuff like that. But I disagree. Every time he goes out the door to a call, it could be the last time I see him, and I don't need some small-town shitheads on the local council who've been there longer than I've been alive deciding that they're going to jeopardize lives because they want to save a few bucks.

Plus they increased my property taxes a lot last year. And they re-paved a bunch of streets in town and poured new sidewalks. So don't tell me they don't have the money.

I’d better stop this before it turns into a political ramble about my failure to understand why governments tend to be reactive instead of proactive.

But I did learn something from my musing on my pet peeves. What I thought was the root of my annoyance was, in fact, just the byproduct of my real issue.

Of course, I could go into great length about my feeling that all bike couriers that disregard the rules of the road should be fair game and people shouldn’t care if they get creamed, except for the car damage… Man, I hated it when I worked downtown. I know everyone wants to penalize people who drive downtown, but that’s where the office and supplies were, and then I had to drive out to the quadrants of the city and visit clients, and so I needed a vehicle to get there on time, and to cart the training equipment around.

And I do have a real problem with the fact that bicyclists follow both pedestrian and vehicle laws whenever one suits them better.

And since, as a pedestrian, I was run over by a bicyclist once, I feel I have a right to gripe.

You’re probably seriously doubting my assertions by now. Believe me, I wish I was lying. I’m one of the most accident-prone people you’ll ever encounter and the only thing that surprises me is that I wasn’t run over by a runaway camel when I was in the Sahara.

But when that bicyclist hit me, my head struck pavement* and I was knocked unconscious. That hurt.

So I’m scared of walking, scared of riding a bike, and as a driver wary of both bicyclists and pedestrians.

Not to mention the other drivers. Don’t even get me started on my pet peeves with them.

Truth is, we can find fault with almost everybody, can't we?

But if you’ve got some pet peeves, I’d love to hear them. I usually find people’s pet peeves are born out of common sense, and the failure on someone’s part to acquire and demonstrate any.

And in true Sandrablabber fashion, another joke. Because it’s been pretty serious around here lately! And tomorrow I’ll be back with the Friday Funnies.

All of his life George from Caribou, ME, had heard stories of an amazing family tradition. It seems that his father, grandfather and great- grandfather had all been able to walk on water on their 21st birthday. On that day, they'd walk across the lake to the boat club for their first legal drink.

So when George's 21st birthday came around, he and his pal Corky took a boat out to the middle of the lake. George stepped out of the boat and nearly drowned! Corky just managed to pull him to safety.

Furious and confused, George went to see his grandmother.

"Grandma, it's my 21st birthday, so why can't I walk across the lake like my father, his father, and his father before him?"

Granny looked into George's eyes and said, "Because, you dumb ass, your father, grandfather and great grandfather were all born in January and you were born in July."

And don't forget to visit John Rickards for some Hardboiled Jesus. If you were ever wondering why he's going to hell...

Miss Snark made an oops, a cartoon for Kim & an update for anonymous

Yesterday I dropped by Miss Snark’s blog, and found this comment in regards to a question about how to know a publisher is legitimate:

“Are there specific but standard QUERY guidelines? No publisher who is legitimate as far as I know, will take full manuscripts on the first go round.”

I must say, Miss Snark’s is wrong here.

NeWest Press says “We are accepting only complete manuscripts at this time. Please send us your manuscript along with a covering letter.”

And you can find them in the Writer’s Market, another good sign someone is legitimate.

Ronsdale Press says, “What to send?: If you are in doubt, send a query letter with a sample. If you are persuaded that Ronsdale is the press for you, then you can choose to send the entire manuscript. That's fine with us.”

Dundurn says to send, “Either a complete manuscript or at least three sample chapters. In either case, we require a hard copy of the material. Please use Times New Roman (or comparable font), 12-point type, double-spaced, standard margins (1"-1.5"). It is not necessary to bind the manuscript.”

Mundania Press says to send:
Mundania Press is open to all unsolicited manuscripts. PLEASE DO NOT SEND A QUERY ONLY! Queries without a full manuscript will be ignored. Do not mail us a printed manuscript through the post office. We only accept electronic submissions as an email cover letter with your manuscript as a file attachment.

Why am I taking the time to make this point here? Because this is a good example of the fact that, as much as you can get really good advice online, sometimes the experts even get it wrong.

No matter who gives you advice, you should always check it out. Always.

And for the benefit of anonymous, the publisher from Orion said they take unsolicited manuscripts when speaking at Harrogate last summer. And they most certainly have books on the shelves in both Canada and the UK, as they're a UK publisher - the publisher of Ian Rankin and Lesley Horton, to name a few.


Okay okay, alright already. So Miss Snark made a mistake. Nobody’s going to sentence her to thirty lashes with a wet noodle or anything.

In my experience, people only want to hear what they want to hear anyways, no matter what a professional says. You can share from your own experience, but still many people will remain skeptical until they’ve heard it a zillion times, or from someone “famous” or until they’ve found out the hard way themselves.

One of the things about me is that I want to shield people from the pain of bad choices. And I have often referred people to Miss Snark’s blog, and will continue to do so.

But I do trust people to know not to jump blindly based on the decisions of others.

This issue has come up for me on a few things lately. I’ve had people question me about submitting work to my publisher. In the end, it’s their choice. What works for one person might not work for another. Everyone is different in this regard. Some will thrive on being with a large publisher and it will work well for them. Others have had extremely positive experiences with small publishers, even new publishers.

Then there’s been the writing group discussion. I still have friends there. And as far as I’m concerned, they don’t need to know the ‘who’ and ‘what’ in nitty-gritty detail. Only a couple people could even know from my post which person I was speaking about and they were part of the group argument, so it wasn’t a secret there.

But as far as I’m concerned, they don’t need to jump ship to be my friends. I’ll only say that this was my issue, and that there were a number of factors that played into it that have been going on for over six months. What happened most recently was the proverbial straw, and it doesn’t discount what I learned during my time in the group, or that others may find tremendous benefit from it.

It speaks more to me getting actively involved and participating on boards and giving of my time and energy and consequently, being sucked into the politics at play. The politics were bad enough. It was when it got personal I had an issue.

So I would always encourage people to keep an open mind to some extent. Just because you read something here, or at Miss Snark’s or JA Konrath’s, it doesn’t make it necessarily right. Especially Konrath’s. He is, after all, a man. Which means he lacks inborn wisdom and needs help from his long-suffering wife.

Oh, did I type that? I only meant to think it…

Another picture to consider. Gawd, you poor, poor people. See thread below to cast your vote...

And here’s a little joke for you. Especially you, Boy Kim. Because even the people who elect you can do an about-face. Which says more about them, doesn’t it? After all, if they elected you and end up not liking you, it means they were wrong…Right?

Did you vote for Bliar? Well, you can convert the joke whichever way you want...


Canada Post has created a new stamp with a picture of former Prime Minister Jean Chrétien.

The stamp is not sticking to envelopes, which enraged Chrétien, who demanded a full investigation.

After a month of testing, a special government commission presented the following findings:

1) The stamp is in perfect order.

2) There is nothing wrong with the applied adhesive.

3) People are spitting on the wrong side.

Cover your eyes...

Once you get past the writing, the editing, the querying, cursing, praying, and finally sign a contract, life begins to change.

And one of the scariest realities is, people actually want to know about you.

Not only that, they want to know what you look like. Can you believe I've already had photo requests? Not for Stuart's dartboard either. I think it's that Konrath character impersonating a normal person. And see what happened to his picture? Can't wait to see what he'll do with mine...

I've redesigned my website. So far, only one page is uploaded - the rest is coming. Kevin's just so busy with his course, it isn't even funny. So hopefully, this time next week when I'm packing for my flight you guys can sniff and eat popcorn while reading my website.

Now, I have to pick some publicty photos...and I have a few differences of opinion already expressed.

Bear in mind I hate them all like I hate all pictures of me, and will be posing for the camera as soon as possible in the hopes that something better will emerge.

Or pay to hire a stand-in to fake being me.

So, cast your vote:

Photo A: I might need to vomit


Photo B: Not amused


Photo C: Curses the fact that she was born with curly hair, dammit!



None of these are the ones that are actually on my home page home page. I guess you can vote for the slightly freaked look as well.

Ugh.

And on that note, I'm going to bed. I will have a more normal post up in the am my time - I'm just so damned fried at night these days that it's all I can do to find my pillow.

G'night.

For Sale: How To Get Your Book On Store Shelves

Last week, I mentioned during a visit to Bernita's blog that I'd just heard a bookstore owner speak about the challenges authors are facing to get their books on store shelves. It was suggested I write up a post about this.

Canada's large bookstore chain, Chapters/Indigo, has finally turned a profit. The reason?

Fewer books for sale and more gift merchandise.

We've all seen it walking into bookstores. The area at the front of the store is filled with cd's, games, stuffed animals, photo boxes - a bizarre assortment of things that really don't have much to do with books.

And almost every outlet here has a coffee shop on the premises.

During a reacent trip to one Indigo branch we were astonished to find that not only had they taken out a hefty chunk of floor space and turned it into Starbucks, despite being located in a mall, but they'd also removed 50% of their magazines.

The rules for independents
The bookstore owner spoke about a number of variables. As a small independent bookstore, they are more particular with what they carry in stock. A local author won't necessarily get on their store shelves if they don't think the book is a good fit for their clientele.

Distribution
One of the key suggestions was, when choosing a publisher, to find out what kind of distribution they have. Ingrams in the US has a phenomenal reputation, and essentially all the bookstores deal with them. In Canada, Trafford is one of the distribution networks - before you sign, make sure you ask if it matters to you.

Why? If the book comes from the US, it may be more expensive to carry and therefore bookstores are less likely to risk it. This is something I saw happen with an author I knew a few years ago, and they were extremely frustrated by the unwillingness of the Canadian bookstores to carry their book.

Here are the cruel truths for Canadian writers:
A best-selling novel in Canada is one that sells 3000 copies.

10 years ago, the average Canadian-authored & published novel sold 1400 copies. Today, the average is 800.

What is contributing to this? From Jan. 13/2006's Quill and Quire:
"The loss of many independents has been a loss of the best form of marketing, the one literary (i.e.fiction) books rely on the most - word of mouth, handselling, endorsement by bookstore owners and staff."

I know I've experienced standing in Chapters, biting my tongue as someone who clearly hasn't read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe tries to say it's sorta like Tolkein, but different.

Get to know your independent bookstore owners
Why? They have the personal passion to discuss books. They know their books. They're selective about what they carry because they know their customers.

They have to.

Around here, it is the independents that host book launches and author readings. They're very supportive of the local writing community, which means they're important people to talk to.

So draft up some questions for them, or if you aren't ready to query yet and haven't really gotten a handle on the marketing and selling side of the equation, then my recommendation is to just get to know them. Tell them you're working on a manuscript but leave it there. Just take whatever nuggets they can give you and store that advice away.

Demographics
This store's customers:

90% female
40-75 in age, on average
Not into strong forensic detail
Place/Setting/Character is tantamount

Typical reading averages:
1. People aged 20-30 are reading fewer and fewer books.
2. However, people 40 and up are reading more.
3. Fewer books are getting onto store shelves, so people are reading more and more of the same books.

What can we take from this?
I always wondered why some series writers started with characters around 40 in age. Perhaps its because the majority of readers can relate to that? I'm just speculating.

People aged 20-30 are too busy with university, establishing careers, starting families... It's really important you understand your target audience as a writer. There may be subtle and not-so-subtle thing that you do differently in your writing.

This doesn't mean you're catering to the audience at the expense of your art, but I know that if I want my book in this particular bookstore, it needs to go soft on the forensics. Suspicious Circumstances could be a good fit. My other manuscript wouldn't be such a great fit, as it currently stands.

Now, I've taken some of the meat out of this in writing it, because what I learned about covers could make up for an entirely separate post, so I'll save that for next time. As it is, I've ended up with 2 posts again today, but I'm making up in advance for the fact that I'm going to be away for a few days next week.

More on that later!

Have a good one. And don't forget: Leave me a comment with a suggestion for future tip discussion topics. I'll try to cover what's of interest as best I can, and can do some research as well if I think further ahead than Monday night!

Tuesday Tips: Showing a little leg to get a john

The end of the writing and re-writing and editing and another re-write, hairpulling, cursing and swearing or weeping and gnashing of teeth and finally re-writing again is something not unlike having your tender regions mashed through a cheese grater - querying publishers and agents.

Once you believe your book is ready to be marketed, it's time to step out there and show the world what you've got. The majority of writers are limited to querying agents and publishers via snailmail, or in some cases, email.

What this means is that you can't rely on your boyish charm, your winning smile, your funny jokes and your easy-going manner to get an agent or publisher to warm up to you. You'll actually have to sell your work to them first.

The cover letter is your first introduction to the person you're trying to get to look at your work. When I attended Harrogate last summer, the panel of agents and publishers agreed: typos in the cover letter show me you're lazy and don't take writing seriously. One even said that typos in the cover letter means the rest goes in the garbage.

Sound harsh? You bet. But here's the reality: Once you start trying to sell your work, whatever you've called it up 'til then, writing is your career. If you drag your ass into the office half hour late with your face unshaven, smelling like gin and with your shirt untucked, your pants having more wrinkles than a 105-year-old woman's face... well, most employers are only going to let that go so long.

Your cover letter is you walking in the door for that interview. You need to impress.

This is where it helps to know a bit about who you're approaching. I find this part hard. Not all agents publish client lists, but if you can find out who represents the authors you write like, then it's a good starting point. Those agents already know where to market your work because it fits with the list of material they've been selling.

So, no typos. No coffee stains. No crumpled corners or handwritten notes from the last agent that rejected it.

Clean, crisp, professional.

Some agents and publishers want a letter and a synopsis. Some want a few chapters. Whatever they ask for, that's what you should send. Nothing irritates an agent more than getting what they don't want, and remember, you want them to recognize your name for positive reasons, not because you're the latest person added to their shitlist.

To be honest with you, I think it can be hit and miss when it comes to writing a good query letter. This is the beginning of the one I used for one of my manuscripts:

****
Query: ECHOES AND DUST

My husband once told me a true story about three small-town drug pushers who were decapitated in an accident when their truck drove under a semi.

As a volunteer firefighter, he was thinking about the strain of searching through ditches for heads. I was thinking that if you could find a way to stage such an accident, it might be the perfect murder. That was the genesis of ECHOES AND DUST.


Constable JACK ROBERTS has spent years trying to deal with his past by avoiding it. Since he was arrested as a teenager for assaulting his mother he’s worked hard to establish his career in the serious crime division of the Surrey Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) Department in British Columbia’s bustling lower mainland area.

Jack’s career path takes an unexpected twist when he is temporarily transferred to his hometown after an officer there is injured in a suspicious accident. He is unaware that the injured officer had been investigating the team, and is faced with open hostility from Constable VAN MCIVER, including open allegations that Jack is connected to the local drug trade through the criminal activities of his family, known for smuggling various contraband across the Canada-US border for decades.

Galveston, a growing city in the BC interior, is experiencing an influx of crime including drug trafficking and vicious attacks that hint at gang activity. Shortly after Jack returns to Galveston, the body of a young girl is found on the street. Jack’s new sergeant, already under pressure to address the local drug trade, now has to deal with a sixteen-year-old runaway who died of an overdose...

****


Technically, I don't know how well it measures up to the standard advice. But something about it got a lot of interest, because I had multiple offers for publication or representation on that manuscript. And each one came after I got in the door with this query.

One of the things I did was write it, send it out a few places that I thought there was no chance in hell I'd get a look from, and wait for the rejections. Then, I tweaked the query with each rejection. It wasn't long before a form rejection turned into a personal note, and then the "This sounds really interesting, but I'm afraid my client list is full at the moment" turned into, "Send me more."

So, that's how I figured out I was on the right path. Trial and error.

If you can think of your book in terms of a back-jacket blurb and get that into a query letter, then tack on the ending so they know where the story is going and how it's resolved, it's the best way to approach writing a query. Quick, tight, concise writing that reflects your style while giving enough of the plot to wet the appetite.

I'm planning the Tuesday Tips as a new thing to discuss writing topics, since some people have asked for that regularly. And I don't mind having something I try to do every week, but you can't get mad if I miss one every now and again.

But I would REALLY appreciate topic suggestions, so if you're into this, leave a comment with an idea for a future Tuesday. I started this week with something boring and safe. Next week, I'll maybe discuss how to kidnap a publisher and use the 'Misery' strategy to sell your book.

Or not. If my publisher is reading, I meant talk about the terrible people who harass publishers...

Now, off to la-la land. But I will have the article up about the bookstore owner and some general advice in the morning.

My morning, that is!

And now, A Wish For All The Difficult People In Your Life (boy this would have been great yesterday)

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.*

Forgiveness isn't the same as reconciliation.

Today's post will be one of my most personal ever on this blog.

This is something that a lot of people overlook. They think that forgiveness means patching it up, playing nice again, completely letting go of whatever happened and resuming the relationship as is said offending incident never even happened.

Which is, in some cases, not only unjustified but foolish.

I know this isn't exactly the "christian" thing to say here. Believe me, I know what it is to be under the pressure to put on the smile and pretend everything is okay, but I really believe a lot of people abuse scripture an expect that everyone should forgive their behaviour when they show no evidence of genuine repentance.

That's something I've experienced on multiple levels. Something a lot of you don't know, and something I dread having come up in an interview, is that I'm a Bible school graduate and spent three years in full-time christian ministry. How I got there starts with my upbringing.

I wasn't raised in a particularly happy home. Even as a child I was remarkably aware of the undercurrents and the tension in our house. I knew how to duck from backhanders, and by the time I was 7 if I accidentally broke something I would send myself to the corner or my room.

For me, one of the greatest curses in that house was being super-sensitive. I was keenly aware that my sister was my mother's favourite - this is an open point of discussion between my sister and I, no dark secret. My dad never wanted daughters - we were both supposed to be Douglas - and when I was a girl he didn't even bother coming to the hospital. Despite the fact this was the 70's and my mother was kept there for four days.

And oddly enough, my parents never thought better than to tell us shit like this.

Life was always a series of time bombs. There were my mother's multiple suicide attempts. The times my parents had knock-down, drag-em-out punch-kick-and-pull-hair fights. Not to mention that he used to rape her.

The times I came home from work as a teenager to find Mom dancing drunk on a picnic table shouting 'God will forgive me.'

I distinctly remember when I was 16, my mother flipping through the newspaper and casually saying, "Your uncle died." I was astounded, shocked. Uncle Charlie?

Nope.

Turns out she had another brother, a much older half-brother, that she'd never mentioned, that I'd never met. He was born before my grandparents had married, and nobody knew who the father was. Until then, when Grandma finally came clean that her brother had raped her, and my Uncle Joe - whom I never met - was the byproduct.

Mentally and emotionally I was one completely fucked up teenager. You'd expect full-out rebellion, right? And my parents got it, only not in the way they expected.

When I was 14 I had a nervous breakdown and was placed under the supervision of Children's Aid. This stemmed from incidents at school, where I was beaten up by a gang. I grew up in a tough town and had an anomaly. I wouldn't hit back, which made me a prime target for bullies.

So, at 15, I was transferred to a different high school in a different town, for my own safety. And by the time I was 16 my rebellion was in full swing - I had joined the church.

When it comes to religion, it's nobody's business what I believe. It's personal. Not even the born-again Christians want to claim me amongst their numbers anymore, and I couldn't care less. So this isn't about what I believe, spiritually.

But I'm glad that I didn't end up doing drugs, getting pregnant or drinking. When I look back on it all, it could have been much much worse.

It still wasn't perfect. Things came to a head when I spent three years in ministry work. The administrator I worked under could give lessons to the devil about how to gossip. Not to mention that a student was raped there by another student, and the school's response was to persuade the girl not to press charges.

"Forgive."

What about facing the consequences of your actions?

Now, Heb. 9:22 says "and without shedding of blood there is no forgiveness."

I know the point of the passage, but apply the broader principle. In order for a sin to be washed away, something has to die.

And sometimes, it's the death of a relationship.

With my parents, it happened several years ago, and in stages. The last time I was ever in my family home with them was 11 years ago this April. My dad had a loaded gun. The tension was high.

And a few weeks after I left he was arrested after he strangled my mother half to death.

That was also when I learned the full truth about my dad's sexual deviance. I'm not getting into that here. But it was something that sent me reeling.

I spent so much time growing up thinking I was genetically destined to be a freak.

At first, going to church gave me a security blanket away from my parents, and I know a lot of wonderful people - some I still know - from that time. I met some people who genuinely cared about me and tried to help.

But I also knew people, like my employer at that Bible school, who slandered every other person who walked onto our property and she was such a hypocrite, she had an affair with one of the other staff members.

We were all supposed to forgive that and keep working there with our mouths shut. Anyone who said anything got reprimanded.

It was a hypocrisy I couldn't live with, and in the end she asked me to leave. I was relieved, but it took me a long time to make peace with what happened and be able to visit friends there without hating the place.

I've never seen my dad since the last time I was in the family home. I've seen my mom a few times, but not for over 8 years now. Ultimately, my dad got out of jail, my mom went back to him and then she tried to take my niece without consent. My sister and her husband moved out here to get away from my parents, and we've put the past behind us as much as you ever can.

"Learn from the past but don't let it control you."

This was something Kevin said to me early on in our relationship. He, too, knows about family issues. I always believed I'd never get married if I couldn't find someone who understood the family problems. Every time I dated a 'nice Christian boy' from a 'nice Christian family' I heard the same thing from his parents - we don't think you're the right girl for our son.

It taught me a lot, being so tainted not even those who preach about acceptance and forgiveness and loving all of mankind and not judging didn't want the likes of me in the picture. And I didn't even swear back then.

Over the years I've had to learn to accept who I am. I've also had to learn to deal with criticism because I don't have a relationship with my parents.

Bottom line for me is, it isn't safe. Physically or emotionally. I did everything in my power for years to try to fix problems in that house and all it did was keep me from moving on with my life and starting to heal.

I always want to find the best in people. I always want to believe. I've actually, if anything, been too quick to forgive, too quick to be fooled again.

Which is something I don't do as much anymore.

You might be wondering 'why this post, why now?' I know it's one of the most serious ones I've ever done. But I've just been through an exceptionally painful few weeks, because of the actions of some people I thought were my friends. I've hinted at it, talked generally about it here, had a lot of support from you guys.

But things reached boiling this past weekend and I've had to make a difficult decision, not to return to my writer's group.

I spent the first 24 years of my life playing at pretending things were okay, trying to hold it all together while I was living in emotional agony and fear. I finally got to the point where I decided I wasn't going to let myself be a victim any more, that I wasn't born just to take this shit.

I still have lapses, but as soon as I start getting the doormat feeling it brings a lot of old feelings back. It isn't something that will ever entirely be gone - it's more like something I've been able to put a lid on, but if things get heated that poison boils over.

I never find these decisions easy, but it has come to this for me. I can't pretend things or okay, or that I can just overlook what some people have done.

And the chief person I've been having problems with carte blanche refused to deal with it any way but her way, which meant I either had to put myself under her terms when she's the one who owes me an apology, or as she put it, "drop it."

I will not put myself through the emotional self-abuse and I've had to find my own path to healing on this. When someone I considered a friend demonstrates this kind of behaviour towards me, things will never be what they were before. Ever.

Now, in 6+ years of marriage, I know a thing or two about forgiveness and reconciliation. When both parties are committed to working something out, they don't come at the other person with an ultimatum. They find a way to address it that allows both sides to feel safe, save a bit of face, and meet in a neutral space.

So, I'm not incapable of healing old wounds, of putting the past behind me.

But I am unwilling to let someone who has done something extremely hurtful and wrong to me dictate the terms on which I can approach them about this problem. I'm not going to be manipulated, I'm not going to be abused, I'm not going to be a doormat.

(PLEASE see the post below - there's something interesting there!)

* I would like to dedicate this post to the person in my writer's group that has reminded me that every trust can be betrayed and that cruelty knows no bounds. Thank you for making what should be a happy time for me be completely undermined by one of the most petty, callous acts I've experienced in a long time.

In the Shadow of Burnaby Light

Jason Evans has a habit of making beautiful posts, combining a cemetery photo with a verse he's penned below.

If you haven't visited his blog yet, then today's the day. His blog features my first collaborative effort on a blog - my photo and his prose.

Enjoy!

Cry Freedom!

When the Nazis came for the Gypsies, I did not speak out because I was not a Gypsy.

When the Nazis came for the homosexuals, I did not speak out because I was not a homosexual.

When the Nazis came for the Jews, I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.

When the Nazis came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me...

Borrowed from JA Konrath's blog.


There's a debate going on out there, about prejudice and how it affects writers. In this case, it seems a black-and-white example of discrimination.

I must say that in my own experience, I've even encountered a different kind of "prejudice". The "we-don't-want-to-publish-Canadians" line.

On the one hand, I completely respect the editor who told me that before I wasted my money and time submitting my work.

On the other hand, it still stings a bit.

I've talked to authors here, and one thing I heard was murmurings of a knee-jerk reaction. The person said they weren't reading the American authors now - they were deliberately choosing Canadians.

Frankly, I find it sad. Okay, I've always been a sucker for those British boys* but at the same time, I've deliberately forced myself to read from a larger pool. I've got Laura Lippman, George Pelecanos, Dennis Lehane, Tonino Benacquista, David Simon, Felicity Young, Andrew Pyper, Maureen Jennings, H. Mel Malton - amongst others - on my shelves, contributing to my literary mosaic of influence.

I would agree that we need to show support for our fellow writers, and I believe that one of the things we can do is speak out for them and try to promote their work. Bolster their sales a bit. Build their rep. Talk them up to anyone who will listen.

I don't think people should get deals based on the colour of their skin, their heritage or how good-looking they are. People should get deals because they can write a damn good book that deserves to be in print.

Of course, in a perfect world, right? Because even I admit to my soft spot for the British boys. But that's because they converted me to the world of crime. It is by looking at the recommendations of other authors like Ian Rankin that I have come to read some of the others, and I am so glad I did.

Seek out the new guys, the overlooked, and find the hidden jewels that should be championed to the world - no matter if their name is Lin or Tarquini or Garelick or Schultz.

Or even Konrath!

* yes, I see how you can take that out of context. Dream on Kim!

Saturday Funnies: Visual Puns & a penis joke

Assaulted Nut


Palm Pilot


Dr. Pepper


Lite Beer


Swimming Pool


Basebal Bat


********
Then Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chretien was out with his wife, being questioned about his plans to retire. In an unexpected twist, a reporter asked Aline Chretien a question.

"What are you looking forward to you when your husband retires?" the reporter asked.

"A penis," she replied.

Embarrassed, a hush fell over the crowd of reporters, none sure of what to say.

Jean leaned towards his wife and whispered, "Aline, in Anglaish, dey say dat word 'appiness."

(My apologies to the French!)

Who you are when nobody's looking

The true you is who you are when nobody's looking.

A lot of people put on facades, cozy up to people they think they can take advantage of or use as a stepping stone in their career. I've heard a lot of talk lately about trying to achieve success in the writing business, and I have to ask myself how people define success.

Writing is a lonely occupation. Hours of living inside your head. It can be cut-throat. Everyone feels entitled to criticize authors and their books, sometimes rightly. Sometimes people just do it spitefully.

In the past two weeks I have:
a) signed a publishing contract for Suspicious Circumstances.
a) signed a publishing contract for Echoes and Dust (tentative new title Terms of Redemption).
a) had my short story, The Butcher accepted for publication by Crime Spree.

Some have been genuinely happy for me, other have been resentful. Such is life.

It's just sad that one person's happiness can sometimes be the source of revealing who their real friends are.

Which character am I?

Galadriel

Possessing a rare combination of wisdom and humility, while serenely dominating your environment you selflessly use your powers to care for others.

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

Galadriel is a character in the Middle-Earth universe. You can read more about her at the Galadriel Worshippers Army.


With thanks to Jason for the link.