Everybody loves some novel, sometimes...*

By Russel D McLean

I have a nightmare.

Not the one involving snakes.

Not the one involving Jay Stringer and Dave White's disturbing burlesque routine.

But rather the one where I finally get found out. The one where people realise I was faking being a writer all along. Where they call me out on years of bullshit.

Its a fear common among us all. When someone doesn't like our work, we wince and get this feeling like someone kicked us in the heart. Even when that criticism is wrapped up with good stuff there's a feeling like, you know, we failed somehow with just this one person.

And you know, what I've realise over the years is you either get used to that feeling or you night as well pack up your keyboard and go home. Because part and parcel of being a writer is dealing with criticism. I watched recently as a would-be writer kicked back against someone who gave them a professional report on their work.I won't go into details but it got me thinking about how we react to criticism, particularly early on in our careers.

Now I get the emotional reaction to criticism, but here's the thing: if one reader thinks there are issues, you can guarantee others will.  And you can either feel strongly enough that other readers will understand your work, or you can listen to the critism and learn from it.

Early in my career I signed with an agent who worked with in house editors. The first editor - who persuaded the agent that I had something - loved my work and gave me a lot of constructive advice that finally made its way into what would become The Good Son. The second editor had a hand in booting me out of that agency because they didn't like what I was doing and wanted me to write a very different kind of novel. Now that novel would have probably got me a huge six figure deal but it wasn't the kind of novel I wanted to write. I stuck to my guns. And got booted off that agent's list. Quite unceremoniously.

But I didn't call for the editor's head. I didn't gnash and wail and grind my teeth (in public). I looked at the reasons I got booted and weighed them up. I wondered whether there were things I could learn. In the end I took a few of those things and made the novel stronger, but I learned that sometimes people just aren't going to react to your manuscript. And that different folks have different tastes.

I took my keyboard and walked away from that one.

In another case, I sent a manuscript off to someone whose opinions I trusted. They came back and told me the book wasn't worked. I was gutted. It was a good book. I was sure of it. But I couldn't be sure. So I went through the manuscript looking at the points they suggested. And sure enough there were issues there. And in this case the person was right to tell me I maybe needed to restructure and restart. Sure, I could have sold the novel, according to this person, but it would have been for a pittance and it wouldn't have gotten the kudos that was clearly deserving of the story. I needed to re-examine it. I needed to really really re-examine it.

This time, I followed the advice.

And the book that emerged was, I think, better.

What I'm saying is this: at every stage of your career you will get criticism. Some of it will be as meaningless as a ranty one star review on Amazon saying that you're "not like Rebus" but some of it might just be worth listening to. Some of it might be well intentioned or even good advice that just might not gel with your plans, but is still worth listening to without losing the plot. Some of it might even save your book.

But anyone who simply praises your work should not be listened to at all. I never send WIPs to friends or family. I did it once and actually got measured responses, but I need to know that the person reading my book has the impartiality of a distant reader or someone who won't take into account who I am or what they know about me. Sometimes that means I get things that do not tally with my expectations. But I learned long ago that kicking up a fuss doesn't help. Listening the criticisms and asking yourself whether you think they might help your novel does.

In short, you and your novel are not special flowers. You do not get a pass just because you wrote something. You have to expect criticism. You have to expect to be imperfect. And you have to expect that sometimes you will learn from that.

*with huge apologies to Dean Martin...

Back to the Future...

By Russel D McLean

I've talked about rejection before, I'm sure. But its on my mind as I sit here in my brand new office, having finally completed the move that began in November. I'm in a new city, in a new flat (after living for a month in The Literary Critic's old place, we've now found ourselves a Gothic Monstrosity that really is quite marvelous). I've spent the last few days working on the 5th McNee novel (this is the one that ties up a number of ongoing threads - is it the actual last in the series? Goodness only knows, but it certainly takes some themes that have been dangling over the books and finally lays old ghosts to rest) but I've also been unpacking some final boxes.

One of those boxes contained a lot of old rejection slips.

Someone of them are disheartening. Phrases like, "just not exciting enough" and "show don't tell" pop up frequently, especially in the early part of this millennium. But I clearly learned from them. There are three that say, "Submissions have now closed" or "this imprint will be closing" which shows just what good timing I have when it comes to most things.

But then there are others, like a letter from a respected SF editor who says that he doesn't think I would fit on an SF list but should try to go more literary. He gives me a number of names and then those names, when I find the letters, give me names, too. None of them think I'm quite there yet for their list, but they're all massively enthusiastic. Its intriguing to read, and makes me wonder if I should re-do that old "sf" chestnut someday. In fact, I'm already churning over in my mind what I would do to it, now. And I think the result would be a stronger book, although I have to wonder if its the kind of book I am capable of writing. That's always a worry for me, of course. Can my ambition match my ability?

Certainly it wasn't the case with a manuscript that went out to an editor (oh who am I kidding, it was a script, he was a producer - - and he asked for it based on an outline) that came back ripped to shreds and doodled over with crayon. At the bottom of the script is a handwritten note that reads, "As you can, my kids didn't like it, either". It still makes me go ouch. But I can take comfort from the fact that apparently the guy's a bit of a pariah, now. So there's something.

But what I'm thinking looking through the box is how much I've changed as writer over the year. Every rejection taught me something, made me grow. Every piece of advice - the well meant ones, of course - has stayed with me and guided me on my journey. I was not ready to write at 18, 20, 23. At 24 I got a break but there are still a lot of rejections between then and the publication of The Good Son to remind me that you don't just leap from not published to published, from bad to good. You make mistakes. You refine your approach. You soak up the world around you. You find your voice.

And you don't let it stagnate.

I'd like to think that in another ten years, I'll look back at stuff I'm doing now and see the change from here to then. I'll be proud - I'm still proud of a lot of what I produced back on those days, even if I'd never actually allow it to be published in that state... yes, the people who rejected me were mostly right to do so - of my work, but I'll be able to see how I've evolved and changed.

Hopefully for the better.

Back to School

by
Scott D. Parker

With all the talk about New Year's resolutions, I've decided to go to school. I don't mean real school. Let's call it “Traditional Mystery School.” No matter what you want to do when you grow up, you have to have an education to do it. Writing and reading are no different. If you want to learn how to write, you could enroll a university course with a professor and a syllabus and spend a semester (or longer) learning the mechanics of how to write. If you want to understand reading, you can enroll in the course about any type of literature and spend a semester or more learning how to read better.

But the type of class I want to take is not necessarily offered in a university setting. You see, I want to learn about books and authors who wrote in the traditional mystery style. That is, the Agatha Christie School of Mystery. For the longest time, the types of books I tended to read were gritty, urban crime stories while the type of TV shows I watched tended to be of the traditional mystery variety: Monk, CSI: Miami, and just about everything that masterpiece mystery aired on PBS. Moreover, the types of stories I wrote followed the gritty crime style, and frankly, didn't really work. Which got me to thinking: why don't I have a go at writing a traditional mystery.

The only problem is how to do it. Sure, I can say that I enjoy things like Foyle's War or Collision, but that does not necessarily prepare me to be able to write something like that that will be consumed by folks reading words. The only option to correct that is obvious: read and study books written in the traditional style. And I'm not talking only about books written decades ago. I want to read and study modern books written in the traditional style.

Where to start? A reading list. And that's where y'all come in. I'd like your opinion on good examples of modern traditional mysteries. Let me start you out with 2 titles that are on my list.

Bury Your Dead by Louise Penny
The Private Patient by P. D. James

My former colleague, John McFetridge, recommended the books of Louise Penny a year or so ago, and then Bury Your Dead won a few awards. Usually, I like to begin a series with the first book. For this, I didn't care. I wanted to read the award-winning book. I am almost one third of the way into this book, and I am completely engrossed.

I've known about P. D. James for a long time, but didn't give her much thought. I received a review copy of The Private Patient, and for that reason alone, decided to read it as my first P. D. James novel. If there are other, better recommendations written by James, I'd love to hear it. Besides, she writes one killer of an opening sentence:

On November the twenty-first, the day of her forty-seventh birthday, and three weeks and two days before she was murdered, Rhoda Gradwyn went to Harley Street to keep a first appointment with her plastic surgeon, and there in a consulting room designed, so it appeared, to inspire confidence and allay apprehension, made the decision which would lead inexorably to her death.

Which brings me to a stopping point. Where to go from here? Here's one clue: I thoroughly enjoyed the television adaptation of Val McDermid's A Place of Execution on TV. I also really enjoyed Anthony Horowitz's Collision. Both are BBC imports broadcast on PBS.

I like to get a list of 4 to 6 books, create a “syllabus” complete with questions that I hope to answer, and an outline. This may seem weird to some of you, but, then again, I can be a little weird.

So, what books would you put on this list?

Album of the Week:

The Hayden Project by the Emerson Quartet, disc 3. This bonus disc is where I have spent most of this past week. Since I work from home most of the time, I let my iTunes library play at random. A few days ago, it played a movement from a Shostakovich string quartet. The music was so interesting that I stopped work and just listened. I turned off the random, and listened to the rest of the tracks including selected movements from quartets by Dvorak, Ives, Schubert, and Bartok. The Dvorak piece is especially beautiful, and I have put more than one album of string quartets on hold at the local library. For me, the string quartet as an ensemble goes well with this winter spirit of contemplation. There's a quiet, deepness to the sound of four stringed instruments that you can't replicate with any other ensemble.

Tweet of the week:

Writing is time-consuming. The act of writing, of sitting down to write, is easy. But if you think about how long it takes to fill a page, don't think about it. That's my advice. Just right. One word, one sentence, one page, at a time.

––A. Lee Martinez

We all have writing tricks that get us to do that very thing. When you've fallen off the wagon as I did last year, anything to get you to write is a good thing. I am using the Streaks app on my iPod and tracking the number of days––in a row––that I have been writing. As of yesterday, that number is at 29. That's no big deal for many of you, but it has put me back in the habit of simply writing some amount of prose each and every day. The more days I write, the more Xs I have on my calendar, and the less likely I am to want to break the string of red Xs. I'll be hitting a month today, and am charging into this new year with a new, consistent writing habit.

Wine of the Week:

Pianello Rosso, Rosso Veneto

I am not at all qualified to write in glowing detail about wine. It's a goal I'd like to achieve, but I'm only able to speak to the basic fact: did it taste good or not. Our party of four opened this Italian wine New Year's Eve and drank it over a meal of grilled quail, grilled pork, baked Cornish hens, mixed potatoes, and country French bread with olive oil. The bottle was nearly empty by the time the ball dropped. A clean red wine with no bitter aftertaste, I have found a new favorite to add to my small list. Do you have a favorite red wine?

Teachers

by Dave White

I have a theory.

From what I've seen written and heard said, people who are successful rarely remember the good teachers they've had. They remember the teachers who tried to "hold them back" or suggested they couldn't do something.

They remember the bad things. And they use that motivation to get to where they are now.

But in order to get where one is in life, you have to have good teachers. Someone has to help guide you through life, preparing you for what's coming, and teach you something you didn't know.

In my life, I'd say I had more good teachers than bad teachers. I learned a lot in school, and have been inspired and pushed to do something special by more than one. Even the bad teachers I had taught me something. They all helped turn me into a productive member of society.

I teach now. I'm trying to give back to the community as well.

And if there's one thing I know, it's this: Teachers are important.

They are not a group that can be walked over and stepped on, despite the fact people try. People in the private sector like to say we don't work hard or enough, and we're paid too much.

People in the private sector have no idea what we go through. School has changed, and most of us are not the teacher that you hated. We're the one that you've forgotten. The teacher you loved.

Most of us try to get to each and everyone of our students. Most of us try to get students motivated, get them to look at life a new way.

We are not in it for the paycheck.

That's not to say we don't deserve a paycheck. Because we do. We helped make you what you are now. There should be a price tag on that.

Cops help. They should make more money.

Fire Fighters help. They should make more money.

Teachers influence and inspire.

I know the economy is rough right now. I know this is a bad times to be asking for this. But when the economy turns and people in the private sector start collecting bonuses again and making money hand over fist...they'll still believe cops, firefighters, and teachers are paid too much.

There are people who are bad at every job. There are bad teachers, cops, firefighters. Bad writers. Bad governors. Bad businessmen. Bad athletes.

But the majority of people try hard, work hard, and earn their money.

So, I'm sorry if this isn't specifically crime fiction related today. But I have to say, without teachers, I wouldn't be a crime fiction writer.

Without teachers, I wouldn't know what to do.

Teachers are not a blight on society. They are not the dredge of society. They should be honored for what they do.

I hope you pepper the comments section with memories of your favorite teachers.