White Fangs - Guest Post by Nigel Bird

Author Nigel Bird stops by the blog today to give us a look inside the creation of his novel, Smoke. I'll be back later this week with a review, but for now... let's give him a very warm welcome to My Friends Call Me Kate.

Humans are animals.

Nothing controversial in that statement, however splendid we consider ourselves to be.

We’re capable of great subtleties of thought and have the most intricate communication systems to share them.

In my opinion, one of the greatest creations of the human race is ‘White Fang’.

I don’t think there’s anything controversial there, either.  It’s a tremendous book on so many levels, but fundamentally as an exemplary piece of story-telling.

I first heard the story when I was 11.  Our ageing teacher, all leather face and tweed, read it as our class novel at some point in our final primary school year.  It’s one of those periods of life which remains vividly alive in my memory.

No wonder then that it has always been something I wanted to use in my work at some point.  I almost wrote ‘emulate’ there in place of 'use’; how crazy is that?

Anyway, to take you back a couple of years, I wrote a story called ‘An Arm And A Leg’.  I’d been aiming to submit something to Crimespree for a while and knew that this was it, my first real crime work.   I pressed the send button just before I went to bed.

Jennifer Jordan got back to me while I slept, bless her.  Accepted it there and then.  I’m indebted to the Crimespree team for effectively fanning the embers of my hope in a way that I’d all but given up on.

I was thrilled. Absolutely. Took my kids to the soft play that morning and sat drinking coffee in a daze.

It occurred to me that if the story was as good as it felt, I should use it as a springboard for a novel.  Made a lot of sense.  All I needed was a theme.

Back rolled in Jack London. 

Dog-fighting in Tranent!  Perfect.

All I needed was to follow the life of fighting dog from birth till death and I’d be on to a winner.

A good friend of mine also suggested having some kind of police story in there – let’s face it, pleasing agents and publishers may require compromise, or so I thought at the time.

The angle I decided to take was to look at a spectrum of the human race.  I’d have the dog-fighters and their obvious cruelty contrasting with the middle-class breeders aiming to create the perfect show dogs.  Perfect. 

Research showed me some of the crazy things dog-breeders have done in the name of beauty, creating grotesques who live in pain or are susceptible to illness and all sorts of disabilities.  Horrible.  There are good dog-breeders out there, so don’t flood the comment section in their defence, it’s not necessary, but there are some crazy things also.  Barbaric even.

Animal rights are something I believe in quite strongly in many ways.  There’s a touch of irony then, that ‘An Arm And A Leg’ has a description of the deep frying of a cat.  I could tell you that it was the character who took over or that it was essential to the plot (both partly true), but it was me at the helm.  Doesn’t mean I hate cats.

Anyway, I got to work and wrote my novel. 

From the beginning I was looking forward to describing the dog fights, not with relish for the violence, but as a major challenge to my writing skills. 

I considered reading White Fang for the third time, maybe focusing on the fight scenes to see how they were done. 

When it came to those sections, I changed my mind on that.  It seemed better to give it my best shot and see how it went.

I’m delighted with the result.

Sadly, the same couldn’t be said of the novel as a whole.

I had to get rid of the cop and the cop angle (I just hadn’t pulled it off).  I binned chapters and characters.  The dog-breeding work was all chopped.  The vet disappeared.  My bigger picture was gone.

Thing is, by chopping away so much to create this novella I ended up with a more profound piece, in my opinion.  Less can be more.

White-Fang was a product of his environment, like the characters in Smoke.

The folk who inhabit my stories have been brought up in a tough world.   Outsiders might describe it as hellish.  It’s no wonder they behave and express themselves in the way they do.

The sad thing for me is that it’s only the plot and my creations that are fiction.  The town, culture, environment, abuse and poverty really do exist.  Not just where I work, but around the world.

It can be overwhelming to be involved with.

Even so, Jack London managed to get his novel to sparkle with hope on occasion. 

White Fang was the best, meanest fighting dog there was, yet he was saved from that (and a great big bulldog) to become the most amazingly loyal creature going.

The idea of ‘saving’ people from the cultures and themselves is fraught with difficulty (think religious evangelism or colonisation), but it’s something I want to work with to make the world a better place.

Yes, if you read Smoke you’ll have had one hell of a ride.  It will be a tour of a brutalised folk who brutalise.  At the same time, I’d like to suggest that you’ll find something about the whole thing strangely uplifting; if you do, I guess I’ve passed my challenge.


Nigel Bird is about to serve up a 9 course meal.  As an appetiser, there’s a morsel (‘Sebille’) at Flashquake.  The Starter, ‘No Pain No Gain’ will be in Crime Factory.  There’s something fishy in the form of a surprise.  A visit to France for mains at Voluted Tales.  If you’ve room, it’ll be time for Best Of British Crime Stories. For dessert, Pulp Ink, served up jointly with Chris Rhatigan and / or Blackbird Pie at Grimm Tales.  Digestif is a novel that has all the ingredients and requires a bit more time in the oven.

And cheese.

You can read more about Nigel HERE!

Writing Wrongs by Julie Morrigan

I'm really happy to welcome Julie Morrigan to My Friends Call Me Kate.  She's been kind enough to take some time out of her schedule to discuss with us some Writing Wrongs.  Excellent advice!

When Sabrina asked me if I would like to write a guest blog post, I jumped at the chance. Then I had to decide what on earth to write about. Since I’m a writer, I decided to write about writing, partly because wherever I look lately it seems that someone’s dictating what it is that writers should and shouldn’t do. Some of these people have experience and credibility and what they say makes sense, others … well, let’s draw a veil over the others. But why — other than in relation to spelling and grammar — do we need rules in the first place?

For me, rules are like directions: they keep me on track. Having said that, if from time to time I want to take a shortcut through the woods or even ramble along the scenic coastal route, I will. Half the fun of rules is bending them to suit your desires. So, for good or ill, I want to share with you some of the directions I follow when I’m writing.

1. Keep things clean. Use ‘said’ more often than any other word when writing dialogue. Use exclamation marks sparingly, if at all. Keep adverbs to a bare minimum. Don’t repeat yourself. Don’t pad the word count with pretty words, phrases or scenes that don’t move the story forward.

2. Write what you enjoy reading. If you aren’t having fun with your writing, how do you expect anyone else to? And if there isn’t some sort of payoff for the effort, why are they going to read it in the first place? If you want to read something that isn’t currently available — kangaroo cops, vampires in space — the chances are other people will be interested in that stuff, too. (Although it might be a good idea to steer clear of stories about milk-fed kitten gimps or zombie nuns on acid, just ‘cos … you know … your mum wouldn’t understand.)

While we’re on the subject of writing what you want to read, let’s have a go at the seemingly ubiquitous advice to ‘write what you know’. And, once and for all, shoot it dead. Imagine if Philip K Dick or HP Lovecraft or, for that matter, Raymond Chandler had written about only what they knew? The world would be a poorer place for them not having allowed their imagination free rein. Of course what we write is coloured by our personal experiences, likes and dislikes, but that doesn’t mean that our writing can’t transcend those experiences. ‘What if …?’ questions are a great way to get things moving. For my money, it’s far better to write what you can imagine. And you can incorporate what you know on that bigger, broader canvas by using your knowledge and experience of people, conflict, jealousy, love, hatred …

3. Get to the end, no matter what. Some days, the words will sulk onto the page like goths into a sports bar, other days they’ll pour forth like laughing pixies at a fairy wedding. However they’re moving, get ‘em all out and be done with your tale. Type ‘The End’. When you’ve finished, let it mature: especially with longer pieces, let them sit awhile before you go back and edit them. Stephen King recommends six weeks minimum. I have done this and it truly works — you get some distance, you can look at stuff with perspective, and that first read through of something that has both a freshness and a familiarity (it’s your words written in your style, after all) is an absolute blast, even if you also end up with a ‘fix it’ list a mile long.

4: The most important thing is to end up with the best story you can possibly write, whether it’s a flash piece or a seven book series. Write it, edit it, have someone else edit it, polish it, proofread it … and then, when it is all spick and span, dressed in a fresh pinafore, hair beribboned, eager little face all shiny and clean (or more likely, when it’s wearing smudged eyeliner, scarlet lipstick, six inch heels and ripped fishnets) only then let it out into the world. The world will love you for it. Your story will rock.

As I mentioned at the start, these are my directions, they help me to get to where I want to go. There are admittedly times when I slip up a little, but as a general set of directions they serve me well. You may find that some or all of these help you — or they may hinder you. You’ll no doubt, if you haven’t already, develop your own set of directions to help you get to where you want to go.

In the interests of being helpful to everyone, I’d like to give the last word on the subject to Allan Guthrie, who with his tipsheet Hunting Down The Pleonasm http://ebookbrowse.com/hunting-down-the-pleonasm-doc-d36389041 created something truly useful. He even gives us permission to ignore what he says. That’s my kind of rulebook.

Thanks, Sabrina, for letting me camp out on your blog. It’s been great fun (for me, at least!)

Julie Morrigan lives by the seaside in the north east of England. You can find her blogging at http://gonebadonlinestories.blogspot.com/.

HUNTING STORIES by Josh Stallings

I'm very pleased to welcome Josh Stallings to My Friends Call Me Kate.  Yesterday you read about his first book in the Moses McGuire series and today, well, you'll read about the research he does to get the story just right.  It's an excellent post and I know you will enjoy it. 

Midnight, East LA, barrio bar. I sit watching young ladies take their clothes off and dance on a Lucite stage while men toss dollar bills at them. “Research my ass.” My friend Parker laughs. He compares me to Verhoeven and Esterhaus when they were doing Showgirls. Problem is, they are pigs. Me I’m… just chasing down a story. This is how I work. I find a world. For Moses McGuire that is sex for sale in LA. It is also Armenian mobsters. I sit in a club and watch the hardcore power boys strut their Armani and flash their gold.

“What are you doing here?” She is pretty in a tattooed librarian girl-next-door kind of way.

“I’m working on a novel, about the Armenian mob.”

“Shut up, no really shut up. Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of what?”

Her eyes scan the room, flicking across the mobsters. Somehow it doesn’t freak me. I’m not brave. But I grew up hard, that and I feel my literary license will protect me. So far it has. I took my wife to the valley to dine at a Russian mob club. It was an amazing evening and the food wasn’t half bad.

When I’m chasing down a story I go where it takes me. I walk the streets where Moses will stomp. I have spent all night on the streets of Ensenada for Out There Bad (Moses #2.) I took a streetwalker out for tacos at 3AM and got her to tell me how she got where she was. I stood in front of a brothel talking to the bouncer, across the street was a farmacia. In it’s window was a sign – Viagra and US made condoms. The bouncer said Viagra had been a boon to his business, older and older gringos come in and they can go three or four times a night. That scene is in the novel, and I couldn’t have written it half as well as life did.

I troll the Internet looking for facts and cases to lead me to the next story. I read first person accounts of life in the Mustang Ranch, a legal Nevada brothel. I read interviews with the women who work these places. I take Moses on road trips, letting his character fill my mind whilst flying across the desert.

On iTunes I start to build the novel’s play list. Music that I will listen to loud as I pound the keys. I got in the habit of listening to music when writing when my kids were toddlers and my office was a broom closet with just enough room for a desk and my typewriter. To block out the raging sea of domesticity I would put headphones on and fill my head with noise of my own making. I still use it, only now I believe it helps to keep the logical side of my brain busy listening whilst the creative side gets the job done. Thus effectively quieting the mob of inner critics to a dull roar.

Ok, I do all this and I have not written word one of the novel. What I’m finding is texture. What I am searching for is a thread that I can follow, sometimes it is an image or a scene. With Beautiful Naked & Dead it started with the name Moses McGuire, then I saw him with a loaded revolver in his mouth. I started typing the first draft. And I just kept typing until I ran out of story. Then it was time for more research. More low rent bars. More talking to strippers and bouncers and car-parks and who ever else I needed to talk to so I could get my head back on track. Oddly, the places I do my best thinking are strip clubs, on my motorcycle and at the shooting range. Again, I think I need to distract my logical brain so that I can think. At 80 mph on two wheels with every asshole in LA trying to run you over, trust me the logical side is fully busy.

I write my first draft as quickly as possible. Charlie Huston calls it writing with velocity. I type as hard and as fast as my two fingers can go. Later drafts are for cleaning up plot holes and sprucing up the word choices. First drafts are for capturing with passion the reason I wrote the damn story in the first place.

Writing a novel is like moving a very heavy steel hulled boat across a sandy beach. I bust my ass pushing and pulling, dragging the beast into the water. And then it starts to float, inch by inch it gets easier to move. And then all at once the current takes it and we are speeding down a river. From that point my job goes from dragging it, to just keeping it off the rocks. Fitzcarraldo, more the documentary about Herzog making it, Burden of Dreams is all about dragging a ship over a mountain. It is an almost perfect metaphor for how it feels for me to write a novel.

Josh Stallings is your average ex-criminal, ex-taxi driver, ex-club bouncer, film making, script writing, award winning trailer editing, punk.   Over his time in Hollywood he wrote and edited the feature film “The Ice Runner,” a Russian/American co-production. “Kinda Cute for a White-Boy” an independent feature he directed and co-wrote with novelist Tad Williams, won best picture at the Savanah International Film Festival. He also wrote “Ground Zero Texas,” a best selling Sony video game with Edward Neumeier (writer of RoboCop).   His first novel BEAUTIFUL, NAKED & DEAD is garnering great notice from readers and reviewers alike.   OUT THERE BAD (Moses #2) will be published early summer.  He is currently working on the third Moses McGuire novel.  He lives in Los Angeles with his wife Erika, his bullmastiff Nelson, Lucy the lab pit mix and Riddle the cat.

You can read more about Josh Stallings at his website HERE!

PUNCH-LINES by Nigel Bird

I've very happy to welcome Nigel Bird to My Friends Call Me Kate this morning.  He's written a wonderful post that I'm sure you will enjoy.  Read, laugh, learn and be amazed!

When Elizabeth Taylor arrived for her funeral service earlier this year, she was 15 minutes late. It was a gag she’d set up to remind people that she was late for everyone and everything.

It reminded me that endings are crucial to stories.

I often read about the importance of a first line in a piece of fiction, but rarely about the last. It might be because we can’t sit and quote too many of them in case we spoil a book and for that reason, some of this will seem like beating around the bush. Regardless, it’s one of the things I really have to work on.

So let the beating begin.

Endings are great things.

I like it when an author packs everything into a box on the last page, but doesn’t lock the lid.

A denouement must be satisfying, tie up loose ends and be plausible, yet at the same time must leave the reader with a sense of wonder. It might be a killer punch the likes of which might finish a fight, a seed to get you thinking or a key with which the whole piece can be understood.

Longer fiction has to end every chapter in the perfect way – part resolution, part impetus and that must be tough, but the writer of a novel can afford to use the whole final section to draw things to a close and that must let them off the hook a little.

Endings are especially important in short fiction as they occupy more of the whole. When I leave a short story I want to feel shaken or stirred in some way or other, to have some kind of emotional kick at the finale.

Here’s an example of a very short story taken from the wonderful ZEN FLESH ZEN BONES:

‘A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away at the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!’

That final sentence really hits. It’s what the story was made for. Without it, the rest is stripped of power.

It got me thinking of Haiku.

I’m choosing one from Basho and relying on this as a good interpretation.

Morning and evening

Someone waits at Matsushima!

One-sided love.

Again, here’s a conclusion that tells a bigger story. This one leaves me with that tinge of sadness at the image.

To write a great Haiku, the ending will link the first two lines and explain why they were there in the first place.

Here’s another example from a poem:

Wilfred Own comes up with a cracker in his work about the horrors of war ‘Dulce Et Decorum Est’. In it he manages to encapsulate much of what he is about:

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori.

(which I think translates as ‘It is sweet and noble to die for one’s country’)

It forces one more turn of the vice and explains why he was making the effort in the first place.

The only novel I’m going to refer to is one of my favourite stories ever, The Count Of Monte Cristo.

After such an epic, finding the right tone to rest on must have been a nightmare. There’s been a little of everything and yet it needs to come to a close.

Keeping it at it’s briefest (in case you’re in the middle of it right now):

“all human wisdom is summed up in two words? - Wait and hope.”

It rounds off the immediate situation, but also allows for further rumination, like a digestif at the end of a good meal; after such a good book I want to have it live with me once I close the cover for the final time and that’s what Dumas managed for me there.

Moving on to epitaphs. Bette Davis has a lovely comment on her gravestone – ‘She did it the hard way.’ I’m hoping you’ll leave your favourites in the comments, or maybe the words you’d write for yourself.

I was going to use ‘On the whole I’d rather be in Philadelphia’ until I Googled it; it’s a great line whether it’s on a tombstone or not.

And what about great last words?

We remember them, I guess, because the good ones are the summary of a life.

Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) "I have just had eighteen whiskies in a row. I do believe that is a record."

Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) "Either this wallpaper goes, or I do!"

Makes me wonder if these folk had worked on their final words. Do you think they said them and then refused to speak until death actually came?

I’d be happy if my last words could be ‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz’ or if I could go out singing at the top of my voice – Teenage Kicks, perhaps.

And there’s my writing.

I don’t sweat too much when I’m opening a piece. In fact, because I can’t start until I have a story’s voice and first sentence, there’s not a good deal I can do. Sure, I can rework it later, but it’s not a huge burden.

The ending, on the other hand, can often cause me real problems.

My favourite to date is the close of Beat On The Brat. It was a line that appeared in mid flow and as soon as it was in my head I knew it was the ending to aim for – all I needed were a few sentences to build to it and there it was. You can still see that one for free either at http://drowningmachine.blogspot.com/2010/06/wgi-1st-place-beat-on-brat-by-nigel.html, or in the Needle Summer Collection from last year.

Which is where I’m bringing the curtain down.

It would be nice to finish with a punch-line, which is what got me thinking all this in the first place.

“What did the snowman say to the other snowman?”

If I were to stop there, no doubt you’d leave feeling dissatisfied.

Here, to make sure that’s not the case, are my final words.

“Do you smell carrots?"

46 years. It's been a long journey. I've been a primary school teacher for almost half of them, moving from mainstream to exceptional needs to additional support needs. I'm most happy with and most proud of my own family. Second to them comes my involvement in writing and peripheral projects. I co-edited the Rue Bella magazine for 5 years or so and am mighty proud of that too. Recently I've been more involved with writing my own pieces. I've been lucky enough to find spaces for some of my work and I'm hoping that one day I'll write a novel that's worthy of publication. I've given up gambling, alcohol, smoking and any kind of unnatural highs over the past few years and am looking for a new compulsion - maybe I've found it in Twitter. Yep, 46 years. I haven't always known it, but I've been a very lucky man.

Nigel Bird is about to serve up a 9 course meal. As an appetiser, there’s a morsel (‘Sebille’) at Flashquake. The Starter, ‘No Pain No Gain’ will be in Crime Factory. There’s something fishy in the form of a surprise. A visit to France for mains at Voluted Tales. If you’ve room, it’ll be time for Best Of British Crime Stories. For dessert, Pulp Ink, served up jointly with Chris Rhatigan and / or Blackbird Pie at Grimm Tales. Digestif is a novel that has all the ingredients and requires a bit more time in the oven.

And cheese.

Hard to Surrender by Daniel Ames

One of my favorite quotes is something supposedly attributed to Vince Lombardi. The way I understand it, Lombardi used to bark the following mantra to his players during practice: “The harder we work, the harder it is to surrender!”

According to Packer lore, because Lombardi pushed his players so hard in practice, in games they owned the fourth quarter. When the other team was gasping for breath, weak from fatigue toward the end of the contest, the Packers rolled on, just as strong, if not stronger, than when they began the game.

The harder we work, the harder it is to surrender.

I’ve got entire books of quotes, especially about writing. So why does Lombardi’s quote resonate so strongly for me?

I guess the answer is my first collection of poetry, Feasting at the Table of the Damned.

I had always loved poetry, from an early age. In college, whenever I had free electives, I always took a poetry course. And then, I began writing. Just a poem here or there. Eventually, I started sending them out, and eventually, most of them were published.

But as I began to build a reasonable body of work, I came to a crossroads. Did I really want to continue? As much as I enjoyed seeing my work published, and as much as I appreciated the positive feedback, I wasn’t certain where I was going. I knew I would always write poetry because I loved the process, the challenge of getting across an idea with power, elegance and brevity.

The realization appeared slowly but with the weight of concrete: the next step was a book, and I wasn’t sure I could do it.

I spent more time than I care to admit ceding fear to the doubt nearly every artist (except maybe Norman Mailer) experiences at some point.

And then the crazy Italian from Brooklyn who somehow wound up in Green Bay popped into my head.

The harder we work, the harder it is to surrender.

I had worked too hard, labored too long, sweated too much over my collection of poems to just walk away.

So I wrote the book and sent it out. Eventually Aquarius Press of Detroit offered me a publishing contract.

The book has a lot to do with struggle. The obstacles everyone deals with, like the fight to live, to stay sane, to live life with passion, and the struggle to pass through this world with eyes wide open, hungering for comprehension.

Some of the poems are dark, others light. Some are nostalgic, others rife with anger and bitterness.

And yeah, there is the issue of surrender. It’s my belief that everyone, at some level, has the urge to surrender. To give up. To just throw all the wasted time and effort and years and pain and bullshit all into the toilet and flush it away.

But most of us don’t surrender. Miraculously, we lift our heads and turn an honest face into a wind that we know has the power to literally rip us apart.

That’s why I titled the book the way I did.

The table is set, I hope you enjoy the feast.

Why I Shy Away From S-E-X Scenes by Ellery Adams

Today I am pleased to welcome cozy mystery author, Ellery Adams, to My Friends Call Me Kate where she'll enchant us with her knowledge about sex... or something like that.

Why don’t I write steamy lovemaking scenes?

Because I’m no good at s-e-x.

Wait, that came out wrong.


When I began writing mysteries, I focused on the puzzle first. I’ve always been a bit of a jigsaw puzzle geek and now I even do cryptograms when I’m waiting a long time (at the doctor’s office, for example. Why do we make appointments just to sit for thirty-forty minutes anyway? They should just hand out numbers like they do at the deli counter).

Next up, I turned my attention to the characters. From that point, the setting came into play. I steered away from romantic entanglements because I could never write them as well as the other stuff.

Now, with my Books By the Bay mysteries, I start with the characters and they drag me by the hair, this way and that, in true caveman style until the book unfolds like a rose. Thus far, none of them have shown an interest in getting naked. Great. I get down to the other elements and don’t have any R-rated sex scenes to worry about.

My heroine, Olivia Limoges, is a haunted, cynical, independent heiress who refuses to be swept off her feet by anyone. What a relief! Still, I can’t leave her on the shelf forever. I mean, the woman’s got needs. I can do a closed-door fling with the charismatic bookstore owner for now, but eventually, the man the readers sense Olivia belongs with is going to do something so heroic that she’ll have to defrost long enough to well, disrobe.

But not yet. I can hold off for another book. Because when that scene happens, it has to be right. It’s Olivia’s first time, after all. At least, it’s her first time being put on display by me.

This moment has to be as deftly executed as the clues woven into the plot. She has to be ready. I have to be ready. How much do you want to see in your mystery? Tell the truth now. Do you want your couples to go inside and shut the door? Or do you want to peek through the keyhole?

___________________________________

Ellery Adams grew up on a beach near the Long Island Sound. Having spent her adult life in a series of landlocked towns, she cherishes her memories of open water, violent storms, and the smell of the sea. Ms. Adams has held many jobs including caterer, retail clerk, car salesperson, teacher, tutor, and tech writer, all the while penning poems, children’s books, and novels. She now writes full-time from her home in Virginia. 

You can learn more about Ellery Adams on her website http://www.elleryadamsmysteries.com/.

I’m Always Asking, Why?

Today I would like to welcome Cathryn Grant, author of The Demise Of the Soccer Moms, to My Friends Call Me Kate.  Cathryn has been gracious enough to stop by and share with us her thoughts on why she enjoys writing about psychological suspense.  Cathryn has also been kind enough to pass along a signed copy of The Demise Of The Soccer Moms for one person that leaves a comment today. (Winner will be chosen at random) She'll be stopping by the blog throughout the day, so if you have questions about her writing, today would be a great day to leave a comment. Comments of encouragement our welcome, as well.  If you would like to leave a comment without your contact information, but would still like  to be entered for the drawing, please send me an e-mail to sabrinaogden@gmail.com. I'll make sure to add you to the list.

Cathryn's Suburban Noir short fiction has appeared in Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen Magazines, and her flash fiction has also been published in the eZine Every Day Fiction. 

Sabrina says she likes to ask writers why they write. I thought I’d take a slightly narrower focus and blog about why I like to write psychological suspense.

I fell in love with psychological suspense fiction when I discovered Ruth Rendell through her novel, The Bridesmaid. I was captivated by the way she probed characters’ fears and neuroses. I immediately devoured all her non-series novels.

Stephen King said this about Ruth Rendell’s fiction: “No one surpasses Ruth Rendell when it comes to stories of obsession, instability, and malignant coincidence….”

The obsessions and instability of human beings fascinate me. I’m interested in what makes people tick, interested in why they do what they do, and whenever I read about a crime, my first thought is, Why? I’m interested in what it would take to drive someone to commit a crime, especially murder. When I observe what some people have endured in their lives, I wonder sometimes how they keep pressing forward, how they avoid going over the edge.

Psychological suspense is the perfect framework for exploring the psyche, for putting characters that are already wounded under extreme pressure and watching where it leads. Most books grouped under the heading of psychological suspense have a protagonist that’s a detective or some law enforcement official. Often they’re matching wits with a criminal, and those are frequently pure sociopaths. I like a more ambiguous story, because I think life is quiet and ambiguous. My stories only peripherally involve law enforcement, and the “criminal” is not pure evil or without a conscience. In fact, I like to show “criminals” as someone who’s suffered a lot of misfortune, or is pushed into a corner by a series of poor choices that, at the time, might seem minor.

I think if I can achieve the goal of evoking empathy for a criminal, that readers will walk away from my stories with more compassion toward people whose lives go off the tracks, and that they’ll be a little more forgiving of themselves as well. Of course, I also want to create a little fear and build a sense of foreboding along the way.

A Walk In Cabo San Lucas- Guest Post by Paige Shelton

My husband, Charlie, and I recently did some traveling. We flew into San Diego and then took a cruise from there to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. We had a great time.

On the way home, Charlie pointed out an article in one of the airplane magazines. It mentioned that the largest farmers' market in the country is located in Dallas, Texas. I had an interesting reaction to this fact. First, I thought: wow, I'd love to visit the largest market in the country. Second, I thought: well, it might be the biggest, but there are so many wonderful things about every market I've visited. And finally, I thought: ooh, Bailey's Farmers' Market needs to have a write-up in an airplane magazine. I was sort of jealous of the Dallas market. To be clear, Bailey's is the purely fictional market in my farmers' market mystery series. I laughed at my jealousy for my made-up world.

But the article also did something else; it got me thinking about the universal greatness of all farmers' markets. In fact, the time in Cabo among the street vendors showed me that there's something great about all sorts of markets set up with stalls that are run by a single person or a couple of people or a family. Farmers, artists and other vendors all work hard to create and/or display their products so people will want to buy them. And the vendors are the best part; they come in many different personalities; some are pushy, some are shy, some are friendly, some are cantankerous. I'm drawn to them all. I love visiting markets and talking to vendors and hearing their personal stories. One of my favorite things about writing the farmers' market series is creating the vendors' backgrounds and personalities. Sometimes, they take over and tell me more about themselves than I could ever make up; they have a tendency to take on a life of their own. Maybe that's why I was jealous for them.

So, on behalf of everyone at Bailey's, may your upcoming market season be full of amazing products and interesting vendors. If you get a chance, stop by and see us. We're always here.

Thank you!

BOOK CONTEST:

To help celebrate the release of Fruit of All Evil, Paige has given me a signed copy to give away to one lucky winner.  Just leave a comment on the blog and I'll randomly draw a name on Monday, March 7th! 

The Coriee Guardians Series by Mari Miniatt

Mari Miniatt is an indie author of the Coiree Guardians vampire series.  The first two books in the installment are "Fledgling" and "Killer" and both can be found on Smashwords. You may remember that I discussed Smashwords in a previous post.  If you are not familiar with Smashwords and would like to know more,  or if you would like to open a free account so you can get access to some great books, you can find the information here.  Mari Miniatt has graciously submitted an entry for my newest guest post and she talks about her storyline, as well as the source of her inspiration for her stories.

Inspiration can take many forms. You can be inspired by dreams, something might come to you while you are taking a shower, as you are riding on the bus on the way home, while reading, or day dreaming. For me what inspires me for one story is not the same for another.

For the Coiree series: it started with a dream. I know that sounds cliché, but it was a dream. Steopa introduced himself to me. He bowed and said his name. In the dream I knew he was a vampire, although he did nothing to show to me he was. I wrote it down. I don't write my dreams down. But this one stuck with me. I started to explore who he was. It took over ten years to finally figure him and the rest of the characters out.

My Minstrel story had a more mundane beginning. My husband and I had been talking about the world we had created for our role playing sessions years ago. A few days later I was listening to Motorhead and a question popped in my head. Did minstrels have groupies? I sat down and wrote out the first chapter, with the main characters. No planning, they appeared on the paper as I wrote.

The story evolved later. It didn't answer the question, although it was a fun write. According to the bag pipe player from the group Terra Serpentis, John Harford, whom helped me with my research, "Yes, minstrels did have groupies."

The ideas do not have to be grand. Recently, while I was at work, doing a routine task, an image of a cat being held by a young boy popped in my head. The words ghost investigator appeared along the bottom. I have a few different ways to interpret that idea. When one really stands out, I will start to flesh it out on paper.

One way I come up with ideas is with fan fiction. I used to write it, most of it is locked safely away. But what happens is this: I write the story and a character I made up becomes fun to write; or the plot  is really interesting. So interesting, I have to make it my own. So I rip away any signs of the fan fiction and write my own story.

There isn't one way to become inspired. The main thing is to be open to the inspiration as it comes to you. The second thing is to write down a note so you don't forget it. Too many great ideas can be lost that way. A note book is handy or a very nice husband that doesn't mind getting strange texts as you try to explain your latest and greatest idea.

Who knows the next idea that hits you might be the one to make you famous.

Coiree Series

What is the coiree?

It is a cup. Just a gold cup found underneath a nightclub in Deerbow City. So then why do four vampires vow to protect it?

That is what the series Coiree Guardians is about:

The first book, Fledgling,  is about Rebecka "Beka" Saberhagen who first discovers she is living near a vampire, then becomes one. While she learns to adjust to her new life, old grudges, old mysteries, and confused college kids, make her life more interesting.

The four guardians of the coiree meet for the first time in this book, although the they do not know the full potential of the object they vow to protect. They only know they do not want the wrong person to get their hands on it.

The second book, Killer,  is about Vincent. He is feeling a little bored with his undead life. The Rathskeller is fun, but he is missing something. An old friend, Verina, and a new vampire, Nathan, enter his life at the same time. When Nathan crosses the line, Vincent's nights become exciting. There was a time when Vincent was the best killer in Deerbow, but has he lost that touch now?

Another vampire book? WHY!! Because this one is not like the popular stuff out now. These are vampires. They can interact with humans, they can be nice, but they are still predators. They have the old powers, glamor, mental manipulation, turning to mist or shadows, and controlling people with their voice. But vampires are not the only creatures you will meet. Ghouls, werewolves, and berserks are only the first of many that populate the night.

If you would like more information about the Coiree Guardians series and Mari Miniatt check out her website here: http://www.mariminiatt.com/.

Jarrett Rush- The Why Behind the Write

Out of the gate, I need to take a second and thank Sabrina for letting me steal a spot on her blog. It’s an honor, especially for an unknown like me.

When she asked me to contribute, I was flattered. Then I was nervous. What do I write about? What would people want to hear from me? So I asked Sabrina what she wanted. She said she’s always interested in why people write. So that’s what you’ll get here. OK?

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Ask some writers why they like to write and they’ll answer, “I write because I can’t not write.” That’s not me. For me, it’s always been easy not to write. You just don’t do it. And for a long time -- even though I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember – I didn’t write.

I told myself I was a writer. I would put together a few sentences every once in a while, but, as far as serious writing, I didn’t do it.

It wasn’t always that way. As a kid I wrote a lot. I didn’t write well, but I was prolific. It started in junior high and I had a little file of stories I wrote. The first was a story titled “The Man Who Made the Weapon.” A dreadful title. It was a fantasy story. I don’t recall anything about it, but I know at the time I was proud of it. I wrote other stories. All were amateurish and way over my head. I remember one line that I was going to use to start a story. “His obituary read like the end of a bad romance novel.” I was 12 and doubt I’d ever read an obituary and know I’d never read a romance novel.

I kept writing some in high school, mostly about a spy who lived above a diner in London. He liked dry toast and fried-egg sandwiches. Obviously a different time, since I don't know anyone now who would order a breakfast that includes four pieces of bread. This guy also liked his coffee hot and black. I didn’t drink coffee then. Don’t drink it now, but my characters still did.

Let’s fast forward through the next ten years or so. College. I’m working at the student newspaper and all my writing efforts go there. I was a reporter and was writing daily, all stories about new professors or tuition hikes. I graduate and go into newspapering as a career, and, by that point, I’m not writing much. Some, but not regularly. And that’s mainly because the first job I got wasn’t a writing job. I was editing instead.

About five years after graduating from college, I started to pick the writing back up again. I started writing regularly. I worked up a short story and actually thought it’s pretty good. I also realize that I liked the process of writing, editing, and finishing the story. I liked it, so I wrote more. And the more I wrote, the more I realized I enjoyed it. That’s why, since then, I’ve been writing. Not every day. I’m not one of those writers who has to write every day. I write when I can and try and make the best use of my time. But I do write, and write often. And I do it because it’s fun.

So, the answer isn’t something deep like “I can’t not write.” For me, it’s simple really. Writing is fun. That’s why I do it. Because I can sit behind a keyboard and create something from nothing. And when you can find a world or character that you really like, there is nothing better.

And speaking of characters and worlds you like, I think I’ve found both in the coming series of novellas that should be available starting in early February.

Everything takes place in the near future in a city called New Eden. It’s dirty and dark. The government has collapsed and left a vacuum that one big company, RomaCorp, is trying to fill. RomaCorp is like Wal-Mart on steroids, providing everything from bread to electricity.

The first set of stories will follow a pair of guys who are trying to help a challenger to RomaCorp rise up and grab a piece of the pie. Other sets of stories will follow other characters and be set in the same world. One of the distinguishing characteristics of the place is the use of data as a drug. It’s a technology that everyone calls “the wire.” It allows users to plug directly into a data feed. Like an ethernet cable you plug straight into your body.

This technology, and the ramifications of its use and abuse, is a big player in all of the stories. It’s an idea that blossomed from a phrase that came to me at work.

Don’t tell my boss, but I was at my desk and my mind started to wander for a minute. I started thinking about the phrase “bird on a wire.” I don’t know why. Then I thought maybe the phrase was “bird on the wire.” Then my mind wondered what would it mean if I were “on the wire.” My head spun for a few moments and I banged out this bunch of paragraphs.

“How long have you been on the wire?”

She was blonde, tall, and entirely fake. I could practically hear the servos fire when she batted her eyes.

She slid her long legs a bit closer and swirled her drink in her glass.

I grunted an answer and she asked me to repeat it.

“For as long as I can remember,” I said again and kept staring at our reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

“Oh, a lifer.”

“Practically.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you are very mature for someone who has been riding for that long.”

A flub in her language database programming. “I don’t think you mean mature. I think you mean old. And, yes, I am.”

A soft chuckle. “I suppose I do. You’re old for a lifer.”

I said that I guess I was old. “But I’m more careful than most,” I told her, and finally looked her way. She spun her legs to face me. “That would explain it,” she said.

“Yep.” I waved the bartender over with two fingers and he came quickly. I needed a refill.

That was the start. Even though none of that appears in any of the first novellas, everything was kicked off with that little five-minute burst of inspiration. I got other ideas. Ways to use the technology. What would be happening in the world I’d created. The kinds of characters who would live in this place and some of the stories they needed me to tell.

And that’s why I write. Because when you create a world you love and populate it with people who you are interested in, there’s nothing as fun as finding out where their stories go.

Jarrett Rush lives in Dallas with his wife, Gina, and their 1-year-old chocolate Lab, Molly. You can follow him on his blog at http://jarrettwrites.blogspot.com/ and on Twitter at @JarrettRush. His first book, Chasing Filthy Lucre, will be available in February, if not sooner.

For now you can access his short story Consider Us Even and get a sample of Chasing Filthy Lucre here.

Thanks Jarrett for being a guest on my blog.  You are AWESOME!