Ain't No Party Like A Book Store Party

Switchblade Magazine is one of the coolest new crime fiction mags out there right now, and Book Show is one of the coolest indie book shops out there right now - so it only makes sense to smash them together and have a good time.

I've attended a handful of events at Book Show, and recently was part of the Just To Watch Them Die: Crime Fiction Inspired by The Songs of Johnny Cash launch there. It's a killer little shop with a ton of amazing books, cool knick knacks, and zines I haven't seen anywhere else. It's totally worth a visit, and a Switchblade reading is the best excuse I can think of.

If you're in Southern California, you should come see us and buy some stuff from Book Show!

San Diego Comic Fest!

On Sunday I'm going to be at San Diego Comic Fest to promote Black Sails, Disco Inferno while participating in a fun panel alongside fellow San Diego area writers Tone Milazzo, Indy Quillen, Chad Stroup, Israel Finn, and Lara Campbell McGehee. If you've got a pass, you can come hang out at the Kirby Cafe with us and listen to us discuss the business of writing as authors who, like most people, aren't cashing James Patterson checks.

I've never been on a live panel before, so it'll be a lot of fun. More info on Comic Fest here.

I've been working on my notes for the panel, and I obviously can't get into it here, two days before the real thing, so I'm going to leave you with this video of the band I'm seeing tonight and wish you a happy weekend. Hope to see you Sunday!

The First Rule of Writing Conferences Is...

DON'T COMMUTE.

A couple years ago, Bouchercon was in Long Beach, which is about an hour's drive from my home. I couldn't attend the entire conference, so I commuted. Given that I wouldn't have been able to attend at all if I didn't drive, the big pains in the ass that driving brought with it seemed minimal.

This lead me to a fairly disastrous decision.

AWP 2016 is my second AWP with the LitReactor crew and I've been looking forward to it since I said goodbye to my awesome teammates last year. Things have been a little crazy, so I thought, why not make them crazier? I committed to commuting each way to and from Los Angeles this year.

It's day one and I am fucking done.

Luckily for me, the LitReactor crew is full of awesome people and I don't have to repeat today's mistake over the next two days, but damn was that a hard lesson. I left my house at six am and didn't get home until after nine - and that was with missing the reading I wanted to attend. I was so wiped out from the drive that the normally slow and relaxed first day of the conference went by me in a coffee fueled blur - I didn't even think to take photos.

I also didn't drink enough water, eat enough food, or follow any of the common sense rules of surviving a conference, but that's okay. I get Friday and Saturday to make up for it - and Friday night at the LitReactor/Broken River Books/ Booked Podcast party (Check out the info HERE if you're local) I can have a few drinks and try to forget this, the day I thought commuting two hours to and from Los Angeles was anything but a disaster of an idea!

Come see us at booth 322 if you're at AWP, and if you're in the area, be sure to check out our party!

Random Thoughts after Launch Week (and Book Week Scotland)

Russel D McLean

With the launch of CRY UNCLE in the UK (is it the last McNnee? Its certainly the culmination of my five book plan) I've been reading the damn book all over Scotland. Crowds (or at least two people) were present in Gilmerton, Dundee (three times!) and Glasgow have now heard the opening chapters to the book (Including my impressively bad Hungarian accent, which caused me to corpse terribly during the Glasgow event). Its been great fun, reading the book. It always is. I like reading. I like (badly) acting when I'm reading. But I know that reading isn't for every author. I limit myself when I do read because, frankly, I tend to lose track of author readings at the best of times. I much prefer someone talking with passion about their book or about anything.

But it has left me wondering about events. Are single author events worthwhile? The most fun I had these last few weeks - and they were all fun - was pairing up with other authors. Jay Stringer's impromtu quizzing of my knowledge of Mel Gibson's films was great fun. Realising that Chris Brookmyre was the new Shakespeare at Kirkcaldy was a highlight. And I think it adds atmosphere to an event, too, when writers with good chemistry pair up. It becomes more of a show than someone talking about something of interest only to them.

I also started to think about the mechanics or reading your work. Its strange to see your own words there in front of you. I find that - for my own amusement more than anything - I start to edit or adapt as I'm going along; changing small lines of dialogue, speeding up and slowing down sequences. Its part of the experience of writing for me; a book is never finally finished. It gets published, but if I was allowed to, I would tinker forever at the nuts and bolts of sentence structure and word choice.

Author events are strange things. Authors are not natural performers, but I think that if we are going to go out and talk about our books in public we should be. One of the nicest moments this week during a solo event was a librarian, after I was done, saying she hadn't had readers laugh quite so hard with an author in a while. I know I write hardboiled crime, but honestly, that one moment summed up everything I love about doing live events: its a show, its entertainment, its supposed to be interesting and entertaining. And entertaining doesn't just mean funny. It means it has to be interesting to the audience, it has to grip their attention the same way reading a book does. If a live event doesn't do that, then, really, what's the point?

The Entertainer

By Russel D McLean

The other week, I was out at Literary Death Match (where, by the way, I won the evening...). Its an odd mash up of literary event and game show where four writers read in front of three judges who choose the two "best" to go into a head to head competition tangentially linked to literature. Hosted by the effervesent mass of energy that is Adrian Todd Zunga, LDM is a fantastic night and well worth attending. The mix of standard literary stuff (the readings) with more fun additions (the standoff, the occasionally insane judging commentary) makes for great entertainment, and its no surprise the show has been optioned for television.

But it got me thinking about authors and reading. Generally I don't do much reading at my events. The main reason being I can barely concentrate on the whole thing as a listener. I admit I drift off during most author readings, because most authors aren't trained performers. There are exceptions, of course. Stuart MacBride is a great reader. But he really plays the parts he's reading. However, most authors tend to lose any traction they've built up prior to reader by mumbling the words off their books. Sometimes this is down to ability, but often I think it's lack of preparation. I admit I read by the seat of my pants. I will change my mind about what I'm reading at the last moment, but I am confident in the fact that I'm two steps ahead of the words that I'm speaking in my ability to edit as I read, to change words and tones to suit the drama of the moment (ie, I edit my own work as I'm reading it). But as one writer told me on the night of LDM, they cannot read without knowing exactly what they are going to say. And I suspect many writers are similar, and yet I get the feeling they don't practice over and over again with their readings. Because they are never told how to.

Writers are expected to perform their books. Where the truth is that most writers don't know how to perform expect on the page. They can create stunning words, but reading those words is not enough. Our brains perform for us when we read words on the page, but its the rare untrained reader who can then perform in a way that brings that to life.

And while I claim to be a seat of the pants reader (when I do read; most of the time I talk about things that interest me, or about the stories behind the books or that time I got chucked out of an internet cafe while doing research for a novel when I was a teenager), the truth is that I always practice my voice and intonation. I may not read what I expect to read when I go up there, but I have always prepared myself with a tone of voice and feeling I want to convey. When appearing with other writers, I make sure I have a few topics we can both talk about just in case we dry up. I have spent hours thinking about how I want to appear and the kind of mood I want to create.

Because an author event is an event. You can't just show up. No other business in the world would allow a performer to show up and not have prepared to engage with the audience. And yet so often in the world of literary events, writers are let loose with little to no idea of what kind of structure or tone they are supposed to be shooting for with an evening.

LDM sets its tone nicely with the pre-event communication. It lets writers know what they need to do. But I do think that writers (none of those I appeared with at LDM, by the way; its just that this is the event that got me thinking) need to understand more about presentation and showmanship. We are writers, but if we insist on turning up to meet and greet our readers we need to give them something more. We need to give them a show. We need to give them a good time (by which I mean interesting; you can be serious, and it can be equally as much fun as someone who is laugh a minute if you are passionate and interested in the subjects about which you talk).

The Eventful Writer

(This is my second and last post for DSD. Just wanted to add that it's been a blast, and I may be looking for ways to incapacitate Stringer for longer next time. I also wanted to say how proud I am of myself for writing a whole post about Harrogate and not mentioning Russel's fancy man. Aw, hell.)

Spent last Saturday down in Harrogate for the (deep breath) Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival 2010. It was originally supposed to be a fleeting visit - basically the panel and then offski - but we ended up staying a little longer thanks to some fine company and another panel that caught my attention. Otherwise, I have to admit, I have something of a love/hate relationship with events. See, like the vast majority of other people what have written books an’ that, I have a day job and, like a vast majority of people what have day jobs an’ that, relish the idea of spending my free time as I wish. Now “as I wish” normally means “spending time with my wife”. It can also mean “getting some writing done”.

What it very rarely means is “being a writer”.

For me, “being a writer” is the least comfortable part of this whole business, because the simple fact of the matter is I don’t really consider myself that way - not in an arena any wider than our spare bedroom, anyway. I don’t make my living from writing, I don’t hang out with creative types that often, and nobody at my day job knows about this secondary “career”. It’s an existence that’s worked out pretty well so far, except for those occasions that demand a public appearance. Then I spend most of my time waiting for the tap on the shoulder and a request that I not make a scene as I’m escorted from the premises. I suppose this is some throwback to my early events, typified by empty rooms and piles of books that need to be signed so they can’t be sent back to the publisher. Little old ladies who come for the free wine and stay for the moral superiority. Stock signings that require identification before they’ll believe you are who you say you are. Convention signings without books. Convention signings with books that nobody wants. Holes in convention conversation where people look around for someone who’ll benefit their career more than you, the general awkwardness of being at a school reunion and getting stuck with the lad who used to eat stuff for money. And then the horrible realisation that the lad pities you.

I could go on, but you get the picture. The idea of travelling across the country only to feel like shit gets old really quickly, especially when you’re doing it on your own time. It’s taken me five books and a word from my missus to call it a day and ditch this ridiculous obligation to show up for everything I’m invited to. I dare say I’ve missed out some sterling opportunities to sell books, but then one of the few benefits of having a day job is that bills still get paid regardless of how much I sell. And while it doesn’t change some of the minor irritations about even the best events - and I’d definitely call Harrogate one of the best - it certainly puts those irritations in perspective and makes the whole experience a lot more enjoyable.

So there we see it, under Ray’s Advice For New Writers (Abridged), the same refrain: Do What You’re Comfortable With. Because for all the marketing gurus telling me I should be out there with the sell-sell-sell and network-network-network, I reckon the key factor in any event should be enjoyability, otherwise you’re (most likely) paying for the privilege of wasting your spare time in misery in front of a crowd of people who’ve never heard of you and, because of your lacklustre performance, probably won’t do much to change that fact. So no more readings - quite apart from the fact that I don’t like watching authors read from their books, the turnout for one of my solo shows would be embarrassing. No more stock signing unless it’s an in-and-out - sitting at a table in the middle of a bookshop getting stared at is even more embarrassing.

And much more time to write, which is infinitely preferable to being a writer.

McLean, Unplugged

By Russel D McLean

This evening's post will be short, written late as it is, due to the fact that I have been out, doing what writers do... meeting readers.

The joke going around certain quarters is that this evening was McLean, Unplugged. A book group meeting with a guest author in a small village, but this is the kind of event I love to do - - talking to and interacting with enthusiastic readers is one of the pleasures of this gig.

It was the kind of evening, however, where I wasn't sure what to expect. The organiser -the lovely Teri - had told me that "maybe a wee talk about the book and we'll take questions" was in order, which sounded fine to me. But from the moment I arrived the questions came thick and fast, and I was only too happy to take them, even if I did frequently lose my train of thought. It was also interesting to talk about various topics that I had never considered before. That's the other joy of readers - - they mention things you would never have thought of before. And the fact that they all just leapt in, quite unafraid, was wonderful; a whole different experience from larger events where often people are hesitant to ask any questions after a talk.

This kind of one on one meeting - there were maybe nine or ten there in total - is also good for the readers, who have the chance to interact on a more casual level than they might otherwise. And to ask some harder questions (like, did you make this word up or is it slang? when I couldn't even remember the word in question!) or make some valuable insights. One member even taught me to do sweary words in Sign Language (and it was interesting to learn that you can even sign with a Dundonian accent).

So with thanks to Teri and the Gateside book Group* for a wonderful evening, some great questions... and for buying the book!

And since today's post is short, here's some bonus footage from the launch of THE LOST SISTER last year...





*And here's a question, why don't many men join book groups? It seems to be a common question among those I know... and even as a man who is not part of a book group, I don't really have an answer...

Motivational Speaker (aye, right...)

By Russel D McLean

This week, I have done two events. They were hugely different in terms of scope and audience, and it was extremely interesting (at least to me) to note the difference between them.

To fill you in, I have done many events before but never (unless you count launches) as the star attraction. I’ve either been on a panel or I’ve been interviewing another author or merely doing the introducing. All of these have been great fun.

But I digress. This week was the Russel show. And that was a terrifying prospect.

We started on Monday at Kirkcaldy library which was a full-on event for the public. A grand idea? Maybe. I’d never quite held my own* for a full event. Like I say, launches are a different beast altogether. Here, we were talking a paying audience whom I had never met. Except for me mum and, bizarrely, my primary school teacher who had heard about one of her pupils becoming a writer and turned up to see what all the fuss was about.

But for the full skinny (and photos) on this event, I’d suggest you check out my main blog. Because the event that really interested me this week for the DSD post was event #2.

Event #2 came courtesy of the wonderful ladies of the University of Dundee Careers Service. And I’m not just saying they’re wonderful because I went to uni with Karen, who organised my presence at the event. No, they truly are dedicated to helping students find their way once all that tedious studying and drinking is drawing to an end. What they asked me to do was to come a careers fair and talk about how I find myself as a graduate and a writer, to pass on any pearls of wisdom I might have.

Which sounds fine.

Until you think about it.

Most of the speakers were from organisations with strict entry requirements and pension schemes and all that good stuff. They were people there to sell their business and their lifestyle.

What was I going to say?

Become a writer? Live with your professional life dependent on the whim of publishers and readers? Do your own taxes? Worry constantly about the changing nature of your industry while everyone spouts more and more doom-saying prophecies?

Not the stuff of comfort. And maybe not entirely true either. In the end, I decided the best thing to do was to go in and try to say that, look, your life isn’t going to end up the way you expect, but if you find something you love (me and writing), then you should just go for it in the most enthusiastic way you can, even when you know all the pitfalls (and you *should* know all the pitfalls).

It was a strange event. As I’ve said before, I’m not always comfortable handing out advice on how to be a writer (although I have been known to give some limited editorial pointers here and there: its much easier to talk about the craft of writing, for some reason) because I feel like I’m still coming to grips with a lot of it myself. Who am I to tell people about how to approach a career as a writer? All I can do is say what worked for me and what I’ve observed working for other people.

I talked a lot about writers who balance other careers (GJ Moffat as a lawyer, Zoe Sharp as an all-action photographer and quite possibly top-secret killing machine) and how it takes a lot of work to make comfortable money despite some obvious exceptions. But what I really wanted them to take away were two thoughts:

1) That deciding to go into the arts, or opening your own business, isn’t an easy route, but it can be hugely rewarding if you work hard enough at something you love.

And

2) That even if you decide to stay in Academia, sometimes it can be beyond your control. For example, I left due to lack of funding for my PhD. But even if something like that happens, it can be a very positive thing. If I had gone on to do my PhD, the likelihood is I wouldn’t be writing. So, really, sometimes you just have to find the opportunities in life and exploit them to the fullest.

As I’m finishing off this entry, an email has come through with some of the feedback from the day. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure whether I reached anyone or whether I seemed half as interesting as the corporate types with their powerpoint presentations and non-fuzzy maps to success (my map to success seemed to be – do what works best for you and don’t be afraid to mess up once or twice along the way). But maybe some people were listening (a swift selection of comments):

"interesting and entertaining"
"Motivating"
and
"Approachable"

I think the top two mark the as some kind of success. In ten minutes there’s only so much you can achieve, but maybe one or two of the people there might look more closely at alternative approaches to life after university. I just hope they were listening to my practical advice as well for anyone entering the arts.

Always have a back up plan. A day job. A trust fund. Because sometimes it all comes down to luck as much as it does talent. But, believe me, that’s half the fun of this gig.



*Stop sniggering at the back.

Stage Fright

Russel D McLean

By the time you read this, I’ll have launched THE LOST SISTER. Yes, the book’s been available early in some places but tonight is the official release, and let me tell you that I’m excited. Well, nervous. Very nervous.

Thinking about the release, has got me thinking about events. Like, author appearances. And what a strange concept they are. In the end, do we really want to know who it is behind the words on the page? Are we not just setting ourselves up for disappointment?

Perhaps.

Authors are not public speakers. Just because you can write words does not mean you can speak them. I have seen authors torturously mumble their way through appearances, come out with statements that were clearly not thought through and generally make a pretty poor impression on the audience. Some of these guys were immense talents, but it did them no favours to make that appearance.

Which is why I think that authors should always think carefully about events. Do you enjoy doing them? If so, you’re probably halfway there. If not, the audience can smell that dislike from miles away. Believe me.

I get very nervous about events. I get antsy and fidgety beforehand. I lose my appetite, and I get a little grumpy. But when I get up there, I love doing them. I love interacting with groups of people. I’ve done big events. Small events. I’ve done events that are about merely being entertaining and I’ve done events for university courses where I’ve had to be a little more cerebral. I’ve interviewed other authors and I’ve talked about myself. And, truly, I get a kick out of it. I’m not perfect, of course, and no one is, but what I’ve found is that the fact that I’m there and I’m passionate about what I’m talking about translates to the audience.

There are certain things that as an author in the modern age you have to learn – voice projection and enunciation help. The ability to communicate through body language and presence. Basic stagecraft that would have been optional years ago seems to be becoming more and more essential. If you have to put yourself out there, you’re going to need to put in the effort. The audience wants to be on your side, but you have to give them something all the same. They’re forgiving, but if you haven’t put in the effort, they won’t forget.

I’m speaking here not just as an author, but as a bookseller who’s worked with a number of authors on events and launches. I’ve seen good. I’ve seen bad. I’ve seen ugly. And I hope it informs what I do when I head out there with my author hat on.

Tonight, I’m putting myself out there and letting a very smart journalist ask me some questions about the book and about my work. I have half an idea what he’s going to ask, but he could very easily surprise me. I don’t mind this. I prefer panels and interviews because I love having someone to bounce off; its one of the things that make events fun and why as an audience member I generally prefer multi-author panels.

In short, I believe that if we have to do author events, we should always try and remember that they are about some form of showmanship. Not laugh a minute, necessarily, but they should be as much about passion and communication as our novels are.

And so tonight, I step out in front of folks in the vain hope that some of them might buy the new book not just because they feel obligated, but because they’ve had a good time. Because they enjoyed what I had to say. Because they had as much of a blast as I know I’m going to…

Big Books

I love big books.

I'm not talking huge, bible sized books. I'm not talking end-of-the-world thrillers (though I do like some of those too).

I'm talking books where the characters go to hell and back. When their emotions are so torn up, their lives are actually in danger, and you feel like anything can happen. I want books to be an event from an author.

Every year a writer has to put out a book. That's once a year for about a week, I get to enjoy what one of my favorite writers put down on paper. What he or she does to the characters he created. I love when characters lives get messed up.

And I even love it in series.

I don't often enjoy books where the author thinks he or she needs to go easy on the characters because they've been through a lot. I don't care, I want to see them go through the wringer. I don't want a small book. (Though some authors have succeeded at the break book. Laura Lippman's ANOTHER THING TO FALL--for one.) I want to feel the book as I read it. I want to be turning the pages.

When your series character needs a break, go write a standalone and let some time pass in the series. I think Lehane did a good job of this when he decided if the Kenzie Gennaro series went any further his two characters would become psychotics. So he put them away. He wrote MYSTIC RIVER, and that was an event. He wrote SHUTTER ISLAND... and that was an event. And then he wrote The GIVEN DAY and THAT was an event. And now, apparently, he's thinking about bringing his two detectives back. I hope they go through hell again. It's only fitting.

When I sit down to write, I want to tell the biggest book possible. In my two Jackson Donne novels, Donne went through hell. I actually got a fan letter after the second one asking me... "What's next for Jackson... cancer?"

I did a book group and they said the two books were gut wrenching.

That's what I want to do. I want to push the characters further. I want to torture them.

Give me action.

Give me high emotional stakes.

Let the characters fall from huge heights.

But then I want the characters to get back up. Because that's the most exciting moment for me. When a hero gets beat up... and then finally... gets back up. And wins.

That's an event.

What kind of books do you like? Do you like small books? Why? And vice versa. What appeals to you about high stakes novels?