Great Stuff I Read This Year

A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens I am a lifelong Dickens fan, and yet I'd never read this book until this year. I've read most of his stuff, but not quite all of it - perhaps the fact that he has sadly ceased writing (jeez!) means that I carefully budget his gigantic body of work. No one ever tried to make me read it in school, so that isn't the explanation either. Whatever - I've never read this one before, so let me be, like, the last person of the past 150 years to say: "Holy crap, is this ever a good book." Sure, it has Dickens' trademark paragon women and overstretched coincidences - the thing is, if you love Dickens, you love his flaws too. And, good God, is there a lot to love in Dickens.




A Death in Belmont - Sebastian Junger The author of The Perfect Storm wrote this exquisite, utterly creepy book about his family's close experience with Albert DeSalvo, the man who was eventually convicted as the Boston Strangler. In fact, a Strangler-like murder was committed in Junger's neighborhood the same day DeSalvo worked as a laborer at the Junger house - this book is about that, and a lot more. Missed chances, ruined lives, painful deaths, unanswered questions - this book haunted me for days.




Motherless Brooklyn - Jonathan Lethem A man afflicted with Tourette's tries to solve the murder of the only man who ever gave a damn about him - a small-time Brooklyn gangster. Funny and sad at the same time, and so well-written it will tempt you to pack up your notebook for good. Oh, and it gave me an almost-unbearable urge to yell "EATMEBAILEY!" in boring board meetings. I heard a rumour that they might make a movie, with Edward Norton starring. I really hope it's true, 'cos that would be incredibly perfect.




Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card Okay, all you SF fans can laugh now, but I only discovered Card about three weeks ago. (Ha ha, okay?) A young boy is recruited for his genius at war games to fight off an alien invasion. I had a few issues with this one - namely, the preternatural, creepily-smart kids, and the baffled ending - but there are sequels, so I'm counting on Card to make everything right later on. Dang, he's a really good writer, too. It's hard to put this one down, even when it's occasionally annoying you, and it's so thoroughly imagined that you can't even find any hackneyed, boneheaded SF cliches to laugh at. I'm definitely going to read a lot more of this author.

I read a lot of romance I loved this year, too, but maybe I'll put that in another post. I read a lot outside the genre. Yesterday I went to the AAR boards for the first time in months, only to find everyone bitching about the sad state of romance, or whatever. You gotta read outside the genre, no matter what you read - it's the only way. The only other option is burnout.

On a side note, I am totally bummed that Bookseller Chick's store is closing. I hope she gets another bookselling job - I love that blog!

Career Counselor

You know, I've always thought that if money were no object, I'd just go and work in a bookstore. Ya know... shelving books. Smelling them all day. Arranging them on shelves, like I compulsively do on my shelves at home, only I'd get paid. Bliss!

But Bookseller Chick's blog has disillusioned me for good, especially her post about least favourite customers. "I really hate getting yelled at," she mentions casually. I'm so naive - I simply can't imagine, in the far reaches of human behaviour, yelling at a bookseller. Really - there is no circumstance that requires yelling over books. You do not yell over books. Ever!

Like most writers, I've also daydreamed about a job in publishing. Ya know... reading all day. Going to meetings about books. Talking about books with a bunch of coworkers who also talk about books. Bliss! But it doesn't take long at all to get disillusioned with that one - all you have to do is read a few publishing blogs, in which agents and editors freely discuss working evenings, weekends, and holidays for very little pay - and that's after they've worked their way up the ladder from being an intern.

I can relate. I was a travel agent once, which is also one of those jobs people think "sounds fun." Sure. Low pay? Check. Long unpaid hours? Check. Yelled at? Check, check, check. I hated being yelled at, but the weeping was the worst thing about it. You'd be surprised how much weeping happens in a travel agent's office - the guy frantically trying to get a flight to Australia to see his sick mother, the woman whose flight to help move her mother to a nursing home is inexplicably cancelled, the woman whose flight change is going to make her miss her cruise. Yelling is bad, but trust me, weeping is worse.

So, bless blogs for their career-counseling wisdom. I wish blogs had been around when I was a travel agent. I wonder what it's like to be a florist?

Very Good Year

What is it with this time of year? Where the heck does the time go? Didn't I just blog the other day? Wait, maybe not...

It's always cheesy, but I like to do a little thinking about the state of my life at year-end. At this time last year, I had never blogged, I had barely finished one novel, and I was just getting my feet wet trying to figure out how to get published.

Now, I've thoroughly sent out one novel and am two-thirds of the way through a second. I've been rejected, of course, but I've had some hopeful signs. I've spent almost the entire year learning and learning, as much as I can about the art of getting published, and I still feel like I barely know anything.

This isn't a business that comes naturally. You aren't born knowing it, just like you aren't born knowing how to write. Aside from ever improving your writing skills, you have to take the time to learn the two-step and do-si-do of how to get your work out there, or you don't have much of a chance. Even those of us who do spend the time learning it all don't have much of a chance, but there you go. We do it anyway.

The two things I've learned are 1) it really is true, the more you write, the better you get at it and 2) a network of other writers, whether on-line or in person (preferably both), is the only way to stay sane. Even if your family is supportive, other writers are the only ones who really get what you do, why you do it, and the crazy stuff it does to your mind. Other writers rock.

The other thing I've done all year is read... lots and lots. I'll wander into my reading list and come up with some kind of a year-end top 5.

When I get a minute, that is.

The Myth of Backstory

(Sorry about the lag in posts... Blogger hates me!)

On the Drunk Writer Talk blog they have been discussing backstory in fiction. Backstory is when the writer drops in information about a character's past, by whatever method - dialogue, introspection, flashback, or just straight narrative.

Beginning writers are told that backstory is evil, it is bad, under no circumstances must you write it. Jennifer Crusie says:

Keep it in the now, or I am gone. Any time the writer stops to tell me things about the character or the past or anything else that isn’t actually the story at hand, I am going to stop reading. Period.

And as I did with prologues, I have to disagree. I see two phenomena happening:

1) Writers told by anyone in authority in the publishing business not to write backstory for their characters;

2) Readers complaining about books that they have forgotten ten minutes after they put them down. Readers complaining that they would like to see something with some meat, some substance. Readers complaining that the fluff getting published these days means that there is nothing to read.

I believe the two are related.

I work with a woman who is... well, difficult to get along with. Rigid, negative, quick to criticize. Drives people nuts. The other day I learned that she has been caring for her mother, who has Alzheimer's, for the last seven years. What would you be like if that were you? Now we no longer have a caricature, we have a person. Someone real. All it takes is one sentence of backstory.

Georgette Heyer's books are crammed with backstory. Dang, she just stops the narrative dead and writes two paragraphs about where that character has been. And romance writers today are still talking about those books and what genius they are. The edition of These Old Shades I just read had a worshipful intro from Stephanie Laurens. Okay, I read one Stephanie Laurens book (something about a man named Devil Cynster and a woman named Honoria) and she won't be winning any Pulitzer Prize. Still, she's a big selling author. I don't remember if Devil Cynster had any backstory, but I'll bet he did.

Everyone does it; you can't get away from it. People don't merely exist in the here and now; the here and now is really boring if the reader hasn't been given the right information.

Let me modify the message. It isn't that you must eliminate backstory. It's that you must master it.

There is good backstory, and there is bad backstory. Read the masters; find out which is which. And write good backstory.

The readers are waiting.

Almost Ten Years

People sometimes think that my guy isn't romantic because he doesn't want marriage and kids.

This morning, as I was getting ready for work, he grabbed my wrist, pushed up my sleeve, and kissed my inner arm all the way up to my elbow, making a little growling noise in his throat.

People are idiots.

Covered

There are some readers who think that the cover of Eloisa James' latest novel:



...is too racy to read in public. Oh, how I scoffed. This cover doesn't bother me; it's actually quite nice. I'll gladly show this off in public, and anyone who doesn't like it can take their prejudgments and.. whatever.

Sadly, last week I ate those sentiments with a big side of rice. Alas, atop my to-be-read pile finally surfaced the following embarrassment:




That's right; I had to read this abomination in public. To the non-romance reader, I know you're asking, why? That's because this writer is actually one of the finest in the entire business, and I not only wanted to learn from her, but I wanted to enjoy a really good book. Would anyone guess that this writer is actually unsurpassed in her genre? No, neither would I.

It has to be said yet again - I don't know who Loretta Chase offended at her publisher, but she has been cursed with a string of the worst covers I have seen for a big-name writer. That she sells any books at all, except to misled gay men (and Corey Hart fans for the above book), is a testament to her loyal fans, who are willing to weather the humiliation of appearing to read gay male porn at 8 a.m. on the way to work. We are suffering for you, Loretta. We really are.

The book was pretty good, though not the best Chase I've ever read (everyone has their favourite, but mine is far and away Mr. Impossible). Next up, however, is a Chase that got near-universal acclaim last year, and is frequently compared to the venerated work of Gergette Heyer:






Eeeehhhhrrrgggggh. Agh. I want to wash my eyes just looking at it, but I bought it, and I'll read it, and my fellow commuters will once again think I am reading gay porn.

I suffer for you, Loretta. I suffer.