Reader, Writer, Writer, Reader

 

Has being a writer changed the way you read? What are you reading now?

Familiar with the image of the snake eating its own tail?

 

It’s called the ouroboros, and it’s also a concise metaphor for neurosis and obsession. A Hungarian scientist named August Kekulé saw the mythological creature in a dream, and it inspired his model of benzene. Instead of a linear chain of carbon atoms, Kekulé imagined a circle, and dashes around the hexagon indicated the type of bonds between the atoms. The next breakthrough in organic chemistry would come from George Olah who would prove that those carbon bonds were positively charged, but I digress.

 

Read. Write. Write. Read. 

To eat or not to eat your own tail, that is the question if you’re a writer.

Reader. Writer,. Writer. Reader.

 

I can’t speak for other writers, but I started out as a Reader, and Writer came much later in my life. Some of my peers inhaled M&Ms, and wrote their first novel with a crayon. That wasn’t me.

 

I read for pleasure, for escape, and entertainment. I was an omnivore, and that’s because I was curious and I didn’t know genre and marketing. I was young and free, untainted by the family business we call publishing. I was lucky that school had not turned me off of reading. My teachers taught me a vocabulary, such as Irony, Symbolism, Theme, and critical theory. Creativity I developed,

 

I could have remained linear: become versions of me growing old as a Reader inside my own Matrix.

 

Or I could choose to become ouroboros, and be both: Reader and Writer. I could Read and Enjoy for its own sake, or Read and feed my own creativity. Whatever I decided, I knew that I needed to stabilize the bonds, find a balance between Pleasure and Work.

 

I learned two things.

 

What you enjoy is unique to you, for whatever reason, be it personality, psychology, or heritage.

 

You are influenced by everything you read; it’s subliminal and impossible to avoid. Our eyes see images; our mind makes metaphors. We need to understand the world around us. Awareness is what keeps us safe and engaged, so what I am saying that we read ALL THE TIME whether it’s a book, the billboard, or the sketchy dude across the street. What we do with what feeds our eyes is intellectual, a study of our own thoughts.

 

My unsolicited advice to the Writer is this:

Appreciate the writers you enjoy, analyze what they do well, but transform it.

Turn off Analytical Mode. Don’t read as if you’re a competitor. It’s one thing for the snake to eat its own tail, another to choke on it.

Instead of seeing circularity as repetition and a torment, find that Stability between reading as a Reader, and writing as a Writer. You are both at once.

 

And to the question about change: you are a different person from the person who started reading this page, a different reader than you were as a kid; and you’re a better writer today than yesterday or last year. To quote Heraclitus: “No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”

 

What am I reading now?

Jerzy Kosinski’s Being There.

 

 

I could read for hours...

 

Has being a writer changed the way you read? What are you reading now?

Books are a magic portal. I read that somewhere, I can’t say where. Probably a meme. But it’s true. I learned this as a little girl growing up in the inner city of Cleveland, Ohio where things were so tough outside my window, but everything I ever dared to dream in between the pages of a good book.  I’ve come to rely on their magic my whole life. For escapism, for learning, and sometimes as my only friend (high school was tough).

If I were trapped on desert island and given a choice of one luxury item to bring, it would have to be a book. A big one, like maybe the Stand, Insomnia, or It, by Stephen King. That man knows how to write a big book. Something with at least a thousand pages or more. I feel like if I can fall into a good story, any other thing is manageable.

While being a writer has changed how I read, it has not changed what I read. I still like my reading the way I like my music, boundless, as long as it touches me in some way. Whether it’s just a fun story filled with adventure, car chases, and fight scenes. Or sappy love stories that make me want to fall in love. Or a dark thriller, the kind that keeps you up at night side-eyeing that open closet door. I’m all in.

As a writer, it’s hard not be in editor mode when reading, especially if the book is not the best. I’m rewriting scenes, rearranging paragraphs, wondering if the writer has a writer’s group, and trying not give up on the story.  My writer brain always has questions, or suggestions. Like, why did they do that? Or was it really necessary to describe that tree, again? Or, my favorite, how did they come up with that description? It’s so good, I shouldn’t even bother to write anymore. Just joking, kind of

I’ve never accomplished the art of the do not finish (DNF). I can’t. I don’t know if it’s because I’m afraid I’m going to miss something or optimism that the writer will somehow turn it around, or fear that the anxiety of not knowing how the story ends would simply drive me insane. But once started this train does not stop. Yes, I do know about skimming, or skipping to the end. And, yes, I’ve tried that. But I’ve learned that it’s pointless for me. I still end up backtracking to see how the writer mucked it up so bad anyway. So, I persist to the bitter end.

 Great writing often equals inspiration, but as writers we must be careful not to be too inspired, if you know what I mean. For that reason, I try to stay away from reading books too close to my current work-in-progress.

 

Currently, I’m working on the sequel to my debut novel, Hurt Mountain. So, it’s a great time to read one of my favorite authors, Delia Pitts, mystery, Trouble in Queenstown. A story that I know will inspire me with its greatness, in all the best ways possible.

 

                                                               

 

Do you have an idea? I have twenty. On inspiration and crankiness, by Harini Nagendra

Not "where" do you get your ideas, but HOW? Do they come to you as images? Memories? Overheard conversations?

One of the professors in the institution where I did my PhD - the Indian Institute of Science - was infamous for his habit of deflating students, puncturing their excitement and generally running them down. 

"XXX!" one of his students was said to have shouted, running towards him down the long stone corridors at top speed, waving his hands. "I have an idea." 

XXX sneered at him. "One idea? I have twenty." 

It's easy to get ideas, he meant. Converting them into reality is hard.

Is that true? Perhaps. But in fiction writing, it's different. At times I find it very hard to get the ideas going, and at other times they come thick and fast. 

Kaveri Murthy, the main character in my Bangalore Detectives Club series, parachuted into my mind fully formed. Where did she come from? Who knows. I didn't really have a clear image of what she looked like, but I knew her mind - how she thought, what she wanted, how she would behave in any given situation. Several of the other characters in my books walked onto the page - like Mala, the beautiful young woman forced into relationships with other men by a notorious local pimp - or gentle but incisively brilliant Inspector Ismail.  

Dialogue is harder than characters, but I take my inspiration from fragments, overheard conversations. One woman was talking to another as I walked past - mimicking her neighbour who spoke non-stop, "going wata wata wata." That grabbed me, and I instantly put it into my book.   

Plots are the most difficult. I comb newspapers and old books - memoirs of travelers, policemen's autobiographies, cases written up in old magazines - and then pick the ones I like. Or I go down research rabbit holes, reading compulsively about fox hunts in Bangalore, foreign magicians who dressed up in blackface as Indian fakirs, and women wrestlers who joined the Bombay circus. The words I read linger in my mind, simmer on long walks, cook slowly during weekends spent doing other things - and suddenly, in the mysterious way plots do, they morph and twist and twine and intersplice - and then I have a plot. 

Or - equally likely - I read about interesting ideas, but they stubbornly refuse to transform into anything. I stare at the wall, fretting in impatience at plot holes - and then plod away stodgily at my writing.

I've now written four non-fiction books and four fiction books. Writing non-fiction is so much easier - making things up is hard. But it's so much fun when it suddenly clicks, and a new plot comes together...

Which reminds me, time to get started on book 5 in The Bangalore Detectives Club series... 

 

How Now from James W. Ziskin

Not "where" do you get your ideas, but HOW? Do they come to you as images? Memories? Overheard conversations?

Boko, thinking up ideas over tea

Ideas come, ideas go 

But HOW they do it I don’t know

They pop up here, they turn up there 

They seem to spring up everywhere

While we’re at home, at work, in bed

Or idling at a light that’s red

They often take us by surprise

In stealthy mode and in disguise

But HOW they do it none can tell

Which may in fact be just as well

For when we try to understand

The secret of some sleight of hand

The magic’s lost, ideas die

So maybe just don’t wonder why

flkjsd;fj

Peeking into the Process

Not "where" do you get your ideas, but HOW? Do they come to you as images? Memories? Overheard conversations?

by Dietrich

There’s no single way — ideas come from images or memories, and sometimes they come from eavesdropping on conversations.

My novel Zero Avenue began with a single scene in mind: a young woman with an electric guitar slung over her shoulder, standing in the dim light of Vancouver’s punk scene in the late ’70s. I put myself back in that time and dusted off the old Ramones albums and got into the spirit. I didn’t know the character’s name yet, Frankie del Rey came later, but I pictured her, and I knew she had a story to tell. From there, it was a matter of asking the right questions: Who is she? What’s she running from? What does she want? The rest just grew around that opening scene.

It’s doesn’t always start with a character. Sometimes it’s a place or a moment. In Call Down the Thunder, I pictured a lone figure splitting firewood in a dusty Kansas yard during the Dirty Thirties. Looming in the background was a sky heavy with an approaching dust storm. I felt that sense of doom and isolation as I started writing, and Sonny and Clara, the couple at the heart of that story, emerged from that single frame. Images like that make great starting blocks —they’re vivid, sensory, and they start me writing.

Imagination is the engine, and sometimes a news article or something online sparks it. The narco sub scene in Triggerfish came that way. I read about these subs built in secret jungle locations, loaded with cocaine and moving underwater and undetected up the coast from Mexico. I pictured a couple on a pleasure boat making out, a nice quiet evening in a West Coast cove with nobody else around. They’re just getting into the wine and making out when up pops the telescope of the narco sub, bringing its load into Canadian waters.

Memories can play a role, although I don’t write about my life in any literal sense, sometimes fragments of it can sneak into the picture. And I’ve known interesting people who I’ve based loosely characters on. A mix of fact and fiction and I come up with imaginary folk who live on the edge, some who bend the rules, and especially the ones who live to break them. 

Certain impressions stick with me too. Back when pot was still illegal in Canada, I read something about the billion-dollar weed industry here in British Columbia. It reminded me of a true story I once heard about a guy who robbed a pot field and got chased off by the farmer blasting a shotgun, the guy getting away with nothing but a backside of rock salt. As well as inspiring a scene for The Deadbeat Club, it gave me insight into the why behind it, the human impulse that makes someone take a dumb risk.

Then there’s eavesdropping — okay, I admit I’m not above leaning a little closer to catch something juicy I can use. There’s raw honesty in the way people speak to each other, especially when they think no one’s listening. Dialogue often starts from fragments like that. It gets polished and handed to characters and they make it their own.

Beyond images, memories, and overheard scraps, there’s something else: the “what if.” It can come from something small like a headline, a random fact or a fleeting thought — just an idea that grows. It’s a game of being curious and twisting facts around into something I can use. “What if” they get away? What if they double down? “What if it all works out?”

So, ideas are a mash-up of images, memories, conversations, and questions that want answers. It’s all fuel for a writer. I collect the bits and pieces and look for ways to click them into place. It starts with a simple idea for a scene. I drop in the characters and let them figure it out, allowing the story to flow scene by scene, letting it build and seeing where it leads.

   

Not Where, but How

 

Terry here with our question of the week: Not “where do you get your ideas, but HOW? Do they come to you as images? Memories? Overheard conversations? 

 I love this topic! 

 For many writers ideas come thick and fast. The trick is to find the ideas that have “legs,” i.e., ideas that you can live with over the course of a few months, ideas that seem like they will strike a chord with readers, and ones that you can successfully mold into a publishable work of fiction. 

But the question is how do those ideas come to the writer? Here are some possibilities: 

 1) Character—a protagonist, antagonist, or victim shows up in your imagination. This is not a fleeting image, but a character that nags at you; that wants to have his or her story told. I still remember the images from an Edgar-winning book from 2021, Please See Us, by Caitlin Mullin. I’ve always been haunted by my mental image of the victims in this stunning book. And I wonder what came first—the victims or one of the two young women who struggle with their intuitive sense that dead girls are begging to be seen. 

Or how about Eric Beetner’s The Last Few Miles of Road?

Hard for me to imagine that anything but Carter McCoy showed up first. He inhabits the novel so thoroughly, that he’s what I think of first when I think of this book. Can't wait to read the next one!

 2) Scene—a place where something happens. A place that grounds the writer and the reader in the action to come. The sights, the smells, the sounds of a place. 

Here is Catriona McPherson setting the scene in The Child Garden: 1985. It was far from silent in the dark wood. There were mice, rats too maybe, scuffling in the undergrowth, and the heavier tread of a hedgehog as it moved along the line of trees…Underneath these living sounds, the river glugged and churned, sucking at stuck logs and nudging at pebbles….So it can’t have been quiet enough to hear all those sounds when the end came.” 

 Most of my readers probably think the character of Samuel Craddock came first, but that isn’t the way it happened. I knew I wanted to write something that came straight from my heart, and my first thought was “where should I set this book? It had to be in a town based on where my grandparents lived when I was a child, because that town—its history; its public and private buildings; its landscape; its inhabitants lived inside me. Only then did I think, “Who will be the protagonist?” 

 3) Action—thrillers often start with action. A bomb goes off. Or there’s a chase. A train wreck. A spy realizes he or she has been outed. Soon the main character shows up—to avenge the dead, to catch the bad guys before the “ticking time bomb” goes off, to uncover the plot intended to bring governments to their knees. I often wonder if most thriller writers envision the action first, and then figure out who, what, and why. When Adam Sikes wrote The Underhanded, did he first see the history professor relaxing at his French country house, or did he picture the bomb that almost killed the professor? Or did he have the idea for his evil cabal? 

 4) Dialogue—does a writer like Wendall Thomas, who writes hilarious dialogue in her Cyd Redondo series, think about a conversation that sparks the idea for her next hilarious travel disaster? Or does she picture her characters in the travel agency where they work? Wherever they are, I'm sure they are talking! Do those conversations come full-blown and lead to the mayhem that ensues? 

 5) A “big” idea. I’m thinking of Ben H. Winters, and his “Last Policeman” trilogy. Maybe he had the idea for the policeman first and decided to put him in the situation that the series explores, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the idea came first—an asteroid will soon destroy the earth. What does a policeman do with regard to crime under that circumstance? It’s an intriguing premise, and Winters does it justice. 

Another book that comes to mind is David Corbett’s The Truth Against the World. The idea at the heart of the book is that the United States has erupted in violence. Dark forces have been unleashed and the country is increasingly dangerous. The characters are rich and interesting, but the “big” idea is what drives the book. 

 In my Samuel Craddock series, I often have in mind a social justice issue. This is not on a par with a “big” idea, but it’s often in the back of my mind when I start a book. I know who my protagonist is, and I know the setting, so in a sense, it’s a bit of a cheat to say that’s what drives a book. But without those issues in my mind, the series would go stale. 

 6) A situation. Capers, meant to be outrageous and funny, usually stem from some outlandish situation. I suspect that most writers of capers start with some combination of character and situation. In Rob Brunet’s hilarious Stinking Rich, a motorcycle club hires a high school dropout to tend a barn full of marijuana.

The situation is a perfect setup for the crazy plot. It hardly matters who the dropout it is, or who hires him. The situation is what the book is built around. 

 7) Memories. Yes, sometimes a memory can open up an idea for a novel. Someone remembers his Aunt Julia fainted when she hears that her old flame has been found murdered. Why did she faint? Did she think she knew who did it? Was she relieved that guy was dead? Did she think he’d died years ago? Memories can spark all kind of ideas. 

 8) Image. This is the “how” that most often happens for me. In my first book, A Killing at Cotton Hill, I started out deciding where the book would be set and who the protagonist would be, but to really get into the book I had to follow my image of my protagonist sitting on a porch in a rocker and someone coming up the steps to tell him something that would change his world. 

 For my latest Samuel Craddock, I didn’t really have a plot, but I had an image of a big truck loaded with junk, headed for a dump site. I kept ignoring it, but the image kept popping up. Eventually, without knowing where the truck was going, or what it was up to, I started writing. And boy did I ever find out what the truck was up to!

These are just a few possible ways that authors can “enter” a book. I’d love to hear from authors if they have other ways that their books beguile them into becoming “real.”

Getting into the How of Creativity

Not "where" do you get your ideas, but HOW? Do they come to you as images? Memories? Overheard conversations?

Brenda at the keyboard.

This question gets to the nuts and bolts of creativity and how it works. I'm not convinced that I can provide any concrete answers because I'm honestly not certain how or where some of my ideas come from. However, I'd say that everything in my life's experiences - where I go, what I read, conversations I've had, things I've witnessed - stay somewhere in my brain and come out on the page. They're changed to suit whatever story I'm writing, but the essence of the idea or character starts with something I've experienced.

Those events that leave the most lasting impression or that bother me are most likely to end up on the page, either as an issue or as part of a character. My books have therefore dealt with some difficult topics, although not as the main focus of the stories, which are murder mysteries at heart. In the Stonechild and Rouleau series, for example, teenage prostitution, racism, and forced marriage have all found their way into the plots.

When writing a scene, the images pop into my head, but the description of a location arises from somewhere I've been, no matter how long ago. Sometimes, the actual place can spark an idea for a story. I recently wrote a short story titled "The Final Hit" that is published in the anthology Cold Canadian Crime that began with a walk through some woods in St. Catharines. In Fatal Harvest, the third Hunter and Tate mystery, a drive home through the back roads past a village called Ashton, gave rise to the idea of a murder in the country.

As for characters and where they come from, some are based on people I've known while others might start with a character trait, but they take on their own personality as I write. Their back stories emerge along with the story.

I've often said that the process of writing has a magical element to it. The beauty of creating worlds and characters is that every author brings something different and original based on their experiences, spirit, and way of looking at the world. It's in the crafting of the stories where the intangible happens, where that je ne sais crois takes over and a new book, poem, or short story is born.

Website: www.brendachapman.ca

Instagram & Facebook & Threads: BrendaChapmanAuthor

Bluesky: @brendachapman.bsky.cocial

A Love Letter to Sisters-in-Crime by Poppy Gee

Do you belong to any writing organizations, for crime writers or general writing—MWA? SinC, International Thriller Writers? If not, why not? If so, what value have they been for you? 

Like everyone who has posted this week, I am a big fan of Sisters-in-Crime. In 2013 when my debut novel was released, they invited me to be on a fantastic panel in Melbourne called Something Rotten in the Apple Isle. It was held in the upstairs room of a quirky 1867 corner pub. We ate dinner and then me and two authors were interviewed about our crime fiction which was set on the island of Tasmania (colloquially known as the Apple Isle because of its fairly romantic history of apple growing).

The Sisters-in-Crime event was the first time I met other crime fiction authors. It was the first time I had a chance to talk candidly with industry insiders. I met the founder of Sisters in Crime Australia, independent publisher/writer Lindy Cameron, who gave me constructive advice and kind encouragement. I’ve never forgotten how positive that experience was.

Where I live there’s not a lot for crime fiction writers – not many of us even get invited to our city’s writer’s festival. A small group of Sisters-in-Crime members are determined to change that. Initial inspiration included an event like Eric Beetner’s Noir at the Bar but we probably don't have enough crime writers to maintain that. Instead, we decided to start a series of crime fiction literary dinners.

  

Now, we host three crime fiction literary dinners each year, copying the winning format of that Sisters-in-Crime evening. One of the goals is to sell books on the night – local bookseller Books at Stones sets up a book stall at our venue. But for the authors on the panel, and for the many writers who attend, it is much more valuable than that. It’s a chance to network, make friends, swap ideas, and be part of the industry for a fun night of food, wine and conversation. 

In Australia, men are not allowed to be on the Sisters-in-Crime panel, so we alternate the literary dinners between an all-female SIC Literary Dinner and a mixed-gender panel called Wine and Crime with Ben’s Book Club. Ben Hobson is a writer friend of mine and a great conversationalist. Both nights attract about 70 guests and are very relaxed and a lot of fun.

It's been a whirlwind experience getting these evenings going. My big mistake at the first event was not checking if the microphones were working. Instead of worrying about that, I spent my time arranging vases of flowers and putting out cookies for the guests. It looked pretty, but when we began, it was a bit stressful with only one microphone working. We had to wing it. I won’t make that error again - but I'm busy making other ones!

I’m not all sunshine and smiles about writing industry mechanics. I've experienced a dodgy side of the business: the workshops, classes, and mentors that pilfer money from vulnerable, desperate writers. I haven’t been burnt by an organisation, but I’m very careful about what workshops I attend after going to more than a few that don’t do what they promise to do on the tin. And that’s not good enough!

Thanks to my People, by guest Edith Maxwell / Maddie Day

Catriona here: I've got warm feelings for most of this mystery community, and now is not the place to name the very few exceptions, but this woman? Edith Maxwell / Maddie Day? This woman I genuinely love. She's prolific without being intimidating, serious without being sombre, light-hearted without being daft, and devout without a scrap of sanctimony. This blog post is a case in point: read on for the straight gen about the mix of grit and luck in any writing career.

And now, Edith:

Thanks so much to Catriona for inviting me over to celebrate next week’s release of Scone Cold Dead! I’m thrilled that my thirteenth Country Store Mystery will finally be out in the world. 

I hear there’s a topic of the week around here about writing organizations. OMG, can I ever talk about that. It’ll involve a bit of autobiography, but what the heck. 

Bold Assertion #1: I would not be published without having been part of writing organizations, mostly Sisters in Crime. 

My new book would not be my thirteenth in a series and my thirty-seventh traditionally published mystery in twelve years. I would not have written seven traditionally published series, two of which are ongoing. I would not have thirty short stories published. I would not have been nominated seven times for an Agatha Award and won once for Charity’s Burden, my fourth Quaker Midwife Mystery. Most important, I wouldn’t have made the dear friends for life that I have (including Catriona) in the crime fiction world. 

So, can I back up Bold Assertion #1? Sure. For starters, I wrote fiction constantly as a kid but then left it aside for several other kinds of writing for a few decades. When I resumed and decided to write a cozy mystery, I found a writing group led by this year’s President of Sisters in Crime New England, Susan Oleskiw, already a multi-published traditional mystery author in the mid-nineties. That’s the first connection. 

I didn’t finish the book I’d started that year because of increased work commitments (and two growing sons and a difficult husband, now -ex), but I started writing short crime stories. My first was published in the second annual Crime Stories by New England Writers anthology in 2004. In 2006, Susan mentioned the New England Crime Bake conference, held that year in Lowell, MA, 45 minutes from my house north of Boston. 

I went for one day. Lisa Scottoline was the guest of honor. I won a raffle of books from Hallie Ephron. I bought a SINCNE calendar featuring members in all kinds of crime settings (handcuffs, the morgue, and so on). And I said, “Why am I not a member of this fabulous organization?” Readers, I joined SINC on the spot and have missed only two Crime Bakes since. I joined the conference committee and was co-chair in 2018 and 2019.

The next month I attended my first chapter meeting, a packed and welcoming gathering in Kate Flora’s living room. Sheila Connolly announced signing her first two contracts. The following meeting I met Hank Phillippi Ryan walking, gorgeous as always, into another host’s home but looking as nervous as I felt. She announced her first mystery was releasing the following year.

Over the years, Hallie mentored me. Hank mentored me, Sheila became a close friend. I joined the Guppies and studied how to write the perfect query letter. I was laid off my tech writing job and dug out that unfinished novel until I found another job. By 2011, I was shopping a finished mystery, striking out with agents, and settling for a micropress when Sheila, then New England chapter president, sent around an email to the membership saying a New York agent wanted to work with writers, published or not, on cozy mystery proposals. 

See? Connections.

“Aha!” I shouted (or perhaps whispered). “This is an opening and I’m not going to waste it.” I wrote and polished a letter, including a couple of ideas for cozy series, and hit Send. The agent called three days later while I was out walking. He sent me a sample proposal and gave me feedback. After I returned mine and the first couple of chapters of the Local Foods Mysteries, we signed with Kensington within a week. Now all five books in the series have been re-released as authored by Maddie Day, since she’s more popular these days than Edith. 

It sounds lucky, but I was ready for that opening. Besides being determined to be traditionally published, I had already laid the groundwork by learning from my people. (I used to say my tribe, but not being part of an actual indigenous tribe, that seems rude, so I stopped.)

More connections.

One of the most felicitous connections was joining forces with five other SINCNE members to form the Wicked Authors blog. Four of us had responded to that agent’s outreach and all four snagged cozy contracts at around the same time. The other two had series contracts within the next year or so. Our group effort, much like this one, boosted all of us, increased our visibility with fans, and provided a valuable support network for eleven years. (Sadly, two have left the group and the rest of us are still regrouping as to how we want to present the blog going forward.)

I’ve been so grateful for my SINC connections, for what I’ve learned from workshops and conferences and private conversations, that I served as the New England chapter president for two years (we are the second or perhaps third largest chapter, so it’s a big job). I’d be nowhere without my fellow Sisters (and Misters). I’ve been a member of MWA since I was first published, but I’m not very active in the New England chapter, and I’ve never (yet) attended the Edgars events. Still waiting for that nomination!

Of course my modest successes are mostly due to working hard alone in my office and always writing the best book I can. Here’s my latest shelfie (not including the new book).

But a couple of other writers’ groups have also provided wonderful support. In my earlier years as an author, I was part of a great in-person critique group (found, yes, through the SINCNE newsletter). I read every scene of my first five or six books to the members, who provided invaluable feedback. I’m also part of a cross-genre writers’ group in my area. We meet for social potlucks or summer parties, and sometimes have speakers or do member-reads nights. We attend each other’s launch parties and generally are a booster and resource group, but we don’t exchange critiques.

These are important connections, too. Go figure -- I guess I don’t have Bold Assertion #2. But, when asked at an author talk what my most important advice to budding authors is, I always say, “Write the best book you can, and find your people. Find the other writers in your genre. Learn from them, offer to them, form a community.” Right?

Readers: Who are your people, your organization that backs you up and teaches you?

Edith

In Scone Cold Dead, country store and café owner Robbie Jordan is just weeks away from giving birth, and it seems Robbie and her husband, dad-to-be Abe, aren’t the only ones grappling with anxiety. A stranger is causing a stir in town and Robbie’s Aunt Adele appears unusually preoccupied at the baby shower. But when someone finds a body in the ram field on Adele’s sheep farm, it’s Robbie’s turn to be worried. Especially after Chief Buck Bird uncovers a troubling link between Adele and the possible murder victim. Robbie has no choice but to knit the clues together and solve this mystery before anything else gets flocked up . . .

Maddie Day writes the Country Store Mysteries, the Cozy Capers Book Group Mysteries, the Cece Barton Mysteries, and the historical Dot and Amelia Mysteries. As besotted first-time Grammy Edith Maxwell, she writes the Agatha-Award winning historical Quaker Midwife Mysteries and short crime fiction. She’s a member of Mystery Writers of America and a proud lifetime member of Sisters in Crime. Maxwell/Day lives north of Boston with her beau and their cat Martin, where she writes, cooks, gardens, and wastes time on Facebook. Find her at her web site, at WickedAuthors.com, and at Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen

Sign me up! Ok, maybe not by Eric Beetner

 Do you belong to any writing organizations, for crime writers or general writing—MWA? SinC, International Thriller Writers? If not, why not? If so, what value have they been for you?

I have been in and out of several organizations, even serving in a board position with MWA. Currently, the only group I belong to is ITW.

I’ve never been a joiner. I don’t like bureaucracy. It often leads people to feel like they have power, but that is rarely any real authority. In general, I’m just not someone who likes meetings or forced gatherings.

That said, I was eager to join MWA and SinC early on in my writing for the community, and the possible opportunities to network and get good advice. I signed on to be the treasurer for the SoCal chapter of MWA for a term of 3 years. I went to events, organized others, tried to serve the writing community. 

I’m still not sure what exactly I got out of it other than that sense of community, which I can get without paying dues.

I don’t want to in any way diminish MWA as an organization. They do a whole lot of great stuff. As treasurer, I wasn’t a fan of sitting on so much money. I actively looked for ways to spend that money on our members. As a non-profit, I didn’t feel that we should carry a bank balance north of the 30K mark. Others disagreed. I do think I spent more money in my time than most other treasurers. For the events that I organized, nobody had to pay for their lunch on top of the dues we paid each year. That sort of thing was important to me.

If I join a group, I want to see the maximum return on that investment. I know I never took advantage of all that Sisters In Crime had to offer. Mostly because I was not an aspiring writer, or a brand new writer. I didn’t need help writing queries, or learning to pitch. Certainly didn't need motivation to write or participate in NaNoWriMo or anything (don't get me started on that one) All the events I saw being offered didn’t seem for me.

That’s a personal thing, not a criticism of the organization. I think when you are a new writer is exactly when you need these writing organizations the most.

One thing I definitely found at MWA was a lack of support, or even acknowledgment, of small presses and independent authors. Granted, when MWA was established, most of that world didn’t even exist. But today, there are many small presses, mid-sized publishers and a host of self-published authors who pay their dues, but get looked down on (in my opinion). Thresholds for advances to qualify for awards consideration and limits like that always made me feel lesser than since I hadn't yet made it to a "big 5" publisher. Still haven't. Still unworthy in some people's eyes, despite over 30 books and the respect of my "big 5" peers.

Too often these groups become a platform for an awards banquet that takes up most of the resources, or at least they become what the organization is known for, surpassing the support and assistance to writers.

Not that any of these groups will ever promise to land you an agent or a book deal. Don’t come to them expecting that sort of leg up. It’s just not what they do.

As our household budget has tightened in recent years (scarce work, one child in college and the other on her heels) any kind of yearly dues or subscription makes me reevaluate. Writing groups fell away as an unnecessary expense. I wasn’t seeing a return for my investment. Yes, that is because I wasn’t going out to most of the events. But when they weren’t for me, then why pay for them? If you’ve been in the community for years, my excitement level for attending another panel discussion drops to near zero. I get it. I’ve been there. I’ve lived it. Let the newcomers get what they need from it.

What it comes down to for me, is that I’m not a “group” person, I guess. I don’t belong to any critique groups. I don’t like having beta readers or anyone to look at things before my agent or publisher sees them. I’m not big on cocktail parties, group gatherings and mixers. I ignore the same opportunities in my day job with all the invites I get to attend events sponsored by the TV academy or the Editor’s Guild, both of which I am a member. I make it out to some, but a small percentage.

I guess I’d rather be home, writing. Or reading. 

Oh, I get out of the house a few times a year. Maybe a Bouchercon, Men of Mystery, Midwest Mystery Conference, Left Coast Crime now and then, Thrillerfest this year. But that’s it for me. This weekend I’m disappointed to miss a reception at AWP I was invited to, sponsored by my college. I would have left the house for that, but I'll be at my sister's wedding instead.

I do think new and aspiring writers should try their hand at joining some of these groups. See what you get out of it. See if it is a good fit for you. And if you are in, if you send in your dues, don’t be like me – take advantage of the gatherings, the workshops, the panels. And explore those websites. It all seems like a lot of work to me, when I have plenty to do without adding that on top. But if you utilize these groups well, you can gain a lot. Even if the need for them falls away the more established you get, there is much to be learned and many great people to meet.

The Resignation Joke

 

Do you belong to any writing organizations for crime writers or general writing groups—MWA? Sisters in Crime, International Thriller Writers? If not, why not? If so, what value have they been for you? 

 

This question makes me think of Groucho Marx and his famous ‘Resignation Joke.’

 

“I don’t want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member.”

 

It’s classic Groucho for self-disparagement, barbed wit, and a clever tactical maneuver to extricate himself from something he disliked. His submission is a Penrose Triangle for logic, in that you’re taken aback, perhaps smile, and wonder why you’re laughing.

 

I’m a Lifetime Member of Sisters in Crime, and I belong to the other two aforementioned groups.

 

I am, by disposition, suspicious of groups. As organizations evolve, they bear certain connotations. Say Teamsters, and what do you think? Declare yourself a Democrat, a Republican, or an Independent, and there’s the whole baggage train of class interest, less government interference, blah, blah, and etc. Organizations like country club memberships could be elitist, or they are created in response to an unfulfilled need.

 

Sisters in Crime was formed as a response to the lack of reviews for women writers of crime fiction in the late Eighties. There were also other troubling concerns and trends within the publishing industry, and you can read about it here. The mystery writing organizations experienced several seismic events, and the turbulence is concurrent with the rise of conferences and awards: MWA started the Anthony Awards in 1986, and Malice Domestic awarded its first Agatha Awards in 1989. Left Coast Crime held its first gathering in 1991. You can read about the early days of Malice here and Left Coast Crime here. ITW came into existence in 2004.

 

I came to the writing gig later in life, so I had to educate myself. I saw Sisters in the title but didn’t know Misters were allowed. I looked at what I wrote, and I didn’t think I qualified for ITW. I became aware that SIC had local chapters, but I thought I could only belong to the local chapter. I live in New England but belong to the Chessie Chapter. Last article of evidence as proof of my myopic brain: I had thought Left Coast Crime awarded its Lefties to writers west of the Mississippi.

 

Yeah, I’m about as bright as dull paint.

 

I admit that I have not taken advantage of all the workshops and funding opportunities. I had a horrible experience with a writers group in college, and you couldn’t pay me to attend a workshop or MFA program.

 

I hate to use the word networking because I dislike the inference that interactions are transactional. Belonging to organizations and attending conferences do help. Putting a face to a name does help you, whether it's meeting an agent or another writer at a panel. Connections matter, if not professionally, then consider it as a safe way to leave your comfort cell. Most writers live the equivalent of monastic solitude minus the pesky vows.

 

If I had a wish, it would be to see a writers’ organization that is a true guild, a legal entity that goes beyond the current Author’s Guild, which focuses on free speech and copyright protection. I’d like to see the day when writers could rise above meager subsistence, enjoy a pension, arbitrate as a group for affordable health insurance, and enjoy extensive legal services.

 

I’d belong to that club and be happy to pay those membership dues…if they’d have me.