Debs Wobbles Nearer to the End

DEBORAH CROMBIE: We talk a lot in writing/reading circles about panster vs. plotter, as if these two approaches to writing were entirely separate. "Panster" meaning you have no idea what a book is going to be about when you start to write, "plotter" meaning you have a structured outline for everything that's going to happen before you put a word on the page.

But I strongly suspect that for most of us, however we describe ourselves, it's much more of an evolving spectrum. I may call myself a "plotter" but that mostly means I like to have a little "basic capsule," "who-why-when-where," for the actual crime. That gives me something to contruct the rest of the story around.

Then, for example, I begin to add ideas, as in the book-in-progress, Kincaid/James #20:

"Gemma has a challenging new job at a troubled police station" +

"I don't know much about London's canals but wouldn't it be fun to set a book there/Little Venice," +

"The Thames west of London/history/houseboats," +

"Family stuff/new nanny, etc.," +

"Melody plotline," +

"Backstory plotline," +

Etc., etc.

(Houseboat moored on the Thames above Teddington Lock.)

Those were some of the initial building blocks. But those concepts don't tell me how they are all going to fit together, and especially not how my detectives are going to figure it all out by the end. From there I usually do a very rough scene-by-scene outline of a few chapters at a time. Any more than that and I know that what I thought was going to happen will have squirmed all out of shape.

Also, none of this "planning" stuff means that a new thing can't suddenly appear and whack me upside the head, which has happened over the course of the last half a dozen chapters!

My math tells me that this book is now almost 90,000 words, which means I had better figure out what happens between here and THE END. ASAP. And that means back to the outline drawing board.

And in case you're wondering where Duncan is in all this, he's very much in help and support mode, and has his own connection to the case.

Here's a little snippet I wrote earlier this week of (spoiler-free) Duncan and Gemma, in a little interlude at home.

Having finally settled the little ones, Gemma came back downstairs to find the kitchen and the sitting room dark. Puzzled, she checked the study but it was dark, too. Then a movement outside the patio French doors caught her eye. Duncan stood just on the other side, his back to the house. At first, she thought he was taking the dog out, but Geordie lay on his back on the sofa, paws in the air and the lighter fur on his belly gleaming in the dim illumination from the small lamp on the bookshelf. Tess and the cats were upstairs with the children.

Duncan must have heard her because he turned and eased the door open as she came up to it. “Shh,” he said. “Don’t let the dog out.”

Gemma slipped out to stand beside him. “Wait,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. So, she stood, barely breathing, and he slipped his fingers through hers.

A low iron railing separated their small flagged patio from the expanse of the communal garden, where its rolling grass, kept cut short, was dotted with large trees. The moon was almost full and as her eyes adjusted, the unshaded grass looked silvery against the deep, dark patches beneath the trees.

And then she saw it, movement, a flitting shape, and then another. Cats? No, their bodies were too large, she realized, the muzzles too long, the ears too big. The tails were wrong as well, too bushy for cats.

They were foxes, and they were playing, chasing one another, then rolling and tumbling in the grass, then jumping back up to start all over again.

Watching, enchanted, Gemma thought suddenly of Karo Fox’s little cottage and the array of fox prints on the sitting room’s walls. Were there foxes on Eel Pie Island, she wondered? And would they know they’d be welcomed in Karo Fox’s garden?

She gave a shiver as the cooler night air began to penetrate the thin fabric of her t-shirt and Duncan let go her hand to put his arm round her.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s leave them to it, shall we?”

Speaking of London's secretive communal gardens, here's another chance to enjoy a fictional visit!

GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS, Kincaid/James #17, is on sale on all e-book platforms for $1.99!

In which Gemma investigates a death in an exclusive Notting Hill communal garden, while Duncan delves into wrongdoing in the highest echelons of the Met, in a case that could cost him his career, if not his life.

AND the audio version is also on sale on CHIRP for $3.99!

Dear readers, are you a planner or a pantster in real life, or do you wobble somewhere in between?

What We're Writing--Debs Does the Cotswolds

DEBORAH CROMBIE: With GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS (Kincaid/James #17) in the pipeline (February 7th!!), I'm in that weird fluid place where a new book is just starting to form. I have a bit of a plot (a very small bit...), some ideas about structure, and an idea for a setting.

My last three books have been set in and around London, so I think maybe it's time for my characters to have an adventure somewhere new. On my very first trip to England oh so many years ago with my parents, we rented a little Mini and toured around the Cotswolds, which is a rural area in south central England that covers parts of six counties. (I can't tell you how confusing it is to figure out which county you are in...) 

We were there in September, and the beautiful rolling country and golden stone villages made such an impression on me that I've never forgotten it. While I have been through and across the counties by car and train many times since, I had never actually come back and stayed. So, I thought, hmm, maybe Gemma and Duncan and company could investigate a case in the Cotswolds. In which case, I would of course have to visit, too.

On that trip years ago I shared the driving with my dad. I can't believe how brave I was--now driving in the UK terrifies me. But needs must, so I hired this cute little blue Peugot and set out to explore. 

The colors in the hills and the trees was glorious!!!! But I couldn't take photos of the prettiest scenes because I was driving, and the view was never as good from the pullover spots.

On my last day, I made it to the one village I remembered the most from that visit years ago, Lower Slaughter. (There is also an Upper Slaughter, and I made it there, too! The explanations for the name are too many and varied to go in to.)

Photos don't do the place justice--it is really and truly picture-book--but here are a few.

That was a grand day. What my ramblings will mean for Duncan and Gemma I don't yet know, but it will be fun to find out.

Here's a Cotswold sunset for you.

 
REDS and readers, have you revisited places that have stood out in your memories?

Deborah Crombie--A Cheer and a Tear

DEBORAH CROMBIE: On Monday night at 9 p.m. I got to type the sweetest words in a writer's language--THE END. I know I've been promising this for I-don't-know-how-many-months, but I did finally get there!!! Hooray, hoorah!!! I'd have danced--if I could have moved after writing fifteen pages in that last day...

GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS, Kincaid/James #17, came in at 130,000 words, and exactly (weirdly) 600 pages in manuscript. (I write in Courier, so that's a big pile of paper.) It was the next to longest book I've written, and I certainly didn't start out intending that. If I'd foreseen it, I'd have stuck my head in the sand in terror at the very beginning... But it was a complicated story, and all the parts had to be played out or everyone--especially me--would have felt cheated.

And...as thrilled as I was to get to the end (not to mention the off-the-scale thrilled-ness of my agent and editor), in a way I hated to let the book go. I've spent two years (eek) with this story and these characters. I loved the story, and I love my characters even more. I know I'll see at least some of them in the next book (and hopefully in many more) and I know I'll be doing revisions, and copy edits, and page proofs, so I'll be spending lots more time in this story.

BUT IT'S NEVER THE SAME.  Once you type that last page, you walk out a door, and your characters go on without you.

I guess that answers the "How many books in a series?" question for me. If I ever stop feeling this way, maybe it will be time to move on to something else. But I'm definitely not there yet, and I'm already thinking about what Duncan and Gemma are going to get up to next. 

REDS and readers, do you feel a bit of postpartum blues when you finish writing--or reading--a book that you love?

P.S. I almost forgot the most important part! GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS will be out February 7th, 2017!!!!

Book Jail

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I'm sure everyone is tired of me going on about the book I am about to finish. I've only been saying that for months. But I really am about to finish the book, hopefully in the next few days. See that stack of pages there, beside the cat? (And excuse the blatant self-advertising. That really is what's on my desk, because I keep referring to previous books.)

That's almost five-hundred pages, which means that this book had better be finished, asap. It also means that I've been working like mad, and for the last couple of months have been in what we here at JRW refer to as BOOK JAIL. 

That means writing and nothing but writing. And in the meantime, I have developed a post-book to-do list that looks like this:

--Do tax return (yes, I filed an extension. Doesn't everyone?)
--Catch up on the last six months filing.
--Update webpage.
--Write and publish newsletter.
--Have upstairs carpet cleaned (or replaced.)
--Get hubby to power wash house.  Ha.
--Have windows cleaned.
--Take both dogs and at least two of the three cats to vet for checkups. (Get out credit card.)
--Repair innumerable (and expensive) neglected household things, like cat-shredded wallpaper.
--Replace (expensive) dishwasher.
--Schedule all routine postponed doctors appointments. (You know, the really fun stuff...) (Get out credit card.)
--Do loads of chores in garden in 100 degree heat and 90 % humidity.
--Etc, etc....

Now, I ask you, who would finish a book, with those things to look forward to? (Other than because of the fairly major matter of a paycheck...)

So, humans supposedly working better on a reward rather than a punishment system, I decided I should make a new to-do list, as follows. When I turn in the manuscript, I will:

--Call much-neglected long-distance friends and talk as long as I want.
--Have much-neglected local friends over for wine and snacks.
--Go out to dinner someplace nice with hubby.
--See the new Bourne movie at the iPic when it comes out the end of July.
--Have postponed mother-daughter-granddaughter dinner out for daughter's birthday (which was last Saturday.)
--Go SHOPPING. (Even a necessary trip to Target tonight was a big adventure.) (Maybe summer clothes will still be on sale!)
--Read a book--any book--all day. Just because I want to.
--Actually use the hammock before the summer is over.
--Set up the hillbilly hot tub before the summer is over.
--Cook something just for fun, not just to get dinner on the table in the shortest amount of time so I can go back to work.

--Take lots of naps.
--Plan trip to England.

 --Etc.

So the question is, dear REDS and readers, how do you get yourselves through the end of a very long project? Whips? Or rewards? And if rewards, what are they? (We don't need to know about the whips...)

In the meantime, I have a chapter to finish. And I might just make myself that root beer float I've been thinking about for a month...

Reds on Writing: Debs on the Tortoise and the Hare

DEBORAH CROMBIE:  Seventeen (almost, more on that in a minute) novels, and I'm still looking for the Magic Bullet. I know, of course, that there is no such thing, and when I speak to writers' groups I always emphasize that. But... Here's where it gets sticky.

I am admittedly slow. But this book has been a bear. On the first of July, it will be two years since I turned in the manuscript for TO DWELL IN DARKNESS. TWO. Now, that's bad. Even for me. Although there has been a book that took longer. (I'm looking at it, stacked on my desk, and the one that came after, which was half the length and took half the time.)

Dear hubby says that I lack project management skills. And that I procrastinate. Both are probably true. I SAY that multiple view point, multiple story line, and sometimes multiple time line novels are HARD. And I am a plotter and a planner, a writer who has to work out who all these characters are and how everything fits together in the intimate history of the setting... At least those are my excuses, and I'm the first to admit they probably are excuses.

BUT, I say. Surely there is a way to do it better, and faster, and that I'll get the next book finished in LESS than a year. My agent, after twenty-three years (Yikes!) just laughs.

And I'm now in what I think of as the Chute. The book--GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS-- is in the publisher's schedule. (February, 2017!) It has a cover. It's up on my website, and doesn't it look gorgeous?  

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A big chunk of the manuscript has gone to the illustrator, wonderful Laura Maestro, so that she can start on the accompanying map.  And I have to finish the last...(mumble, mumble) pages in the next two weeks. (This is my new downstairs library table/desk that was pristine two weeks ago. It's now a mess of multiple outlines and notes and books--and cat. Imagine what it will look like two weeks from now...)

I think this makes me the Hare.

The good news is that I know how it all fits together now. (Chapter/scene outline done all the way the way to the end!) I have to get to a certain point before I can do this, but once I do, it rocks.

REDS and writer friends, I want to know. Do you write a regular, set amount, from beginning to end? Or do you find that books reach a tipping point where it all comes together and you blast through to the last page? 

And what about other big, long term projects, everyone? Are you tortoises or hares?

What We're Writing--Debs and Garden(s)

DEBORAH CROMBIE: The last time What We're Writing Week rolled around, I was celebrating the birth of my brand new granddaughter (and NOT WRITING, at least for a few days.) Now, I can hardly believe that little Wren will be two months old on Sunday. How time flies with babies!  (She is absolutely adorable, by the way.)

Too bad it doesn't fly for me when I'm writing... But you all know by now that I am the slowest writer in the universe. Well, maybe the second slowest... (poking Julia here, grin.) 

But I'm making great progress on Garden of Lamentations, having got past what my quilter friend calls the "ugly quilt" stage. This is where you get a little way into what you thought was going to be the PERFECT book, and you start to think, "This is THE worst idea for a book, ever. It will never work. Why did I think I could write this????" It happens with every book, without fail. I recognize it for what it is, but somehow that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I also know that the ONLY way to get past it is to WRITE. (Can I make those caps any bigger?) And I do eventually work out those details that seemed completely unmanageable, and then it starts to be fun.

I'm on the downhill now, and having a great time.

One of the things I'm loving about this book is creating my imaginary garden in Notting Hill. This is an enclosed residential garden (remember the garden that Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts climb into in Notting Hill?) but some of my inspiration for the landscape has come from Cannizaro Park in Wimbledon, just south of London. This is a Grade II listed park, small but much grander than my little fictional garden.  But the nice thing about fiction is that you can borrow as much as you like. Oh, and the garden is locked, just to make things more interesting...

Here's a snippet to give you a feel for the garden. Gemma, along with DCI Kerry Boatman, is investigating the death of a young woman, a nanny employed by one of the garden's residents. It's mid-May, so the azaleas and rhododendrons are in full flower.

“I’m getting the crime scene team on this,” Kerry Boatman said when Glenn had left them. “Although I don't think there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that there’s anything left to find.” Putting her phone to her ear, she walked away from Gemma and began to pace up and down on the gravel path as she talked.

Gemma moved into a patch of shade and stood, gazing at the spot where Reagan Keating’s body had lain. Why this spot, at the edge of the glade? Did it have some special significance? Was there any possibility the body had been moved here? Kate Ling hadn’t mentioned lividity. Pulling out the little notebook she still carried in her bag, phone notwithstanding, she jotted a reminder to herself to check.

The tree was beautiful, as perfect as a drawing in a children’s picture book, set against the green sweep of lawn. What was it called in some of the old books Kit read aloud to Toby? Greensward, that was it. It had an Old English sound that made Gemma think of knights and enchantments. Or maybe she was just associating the way the girl had been described—laid out like a sleeping princess. She needed to see the crime scene photos for herself.

The turf showed no evidence of a struggle, although she did find a length of foot-wide parallel indentations at the edge of the path. Gemma thought it likely they had been made by the mortuary gurney, but there was always a possibility that it had been something else—a cart or a wagon, used if the body had been moved. She made another note, then looked up, trying to see how this spot related to the rest of the garden. Was it visible from the nearby houses?

She thought the trees and shrubs would have screened it completely from the houses on the left side of the garden. On the right, the small private gardens were dense with shrubs and flowering plants, although she thought it might be just possible to see the patch of lawn from the upper windows of the nearest houses. That left the approach from the center of the garden.

There, casual beds of azaleas swooped down towards the formal beds in the garden’s center, the riot of color punctuated by clumps of spent tulips and daffodils. Gemma thought a witness would have to have been quite close to have had an unimpeded view. She wondered how much light there had been late on Friday evening. The tall houses themselves would block any illumination from street lamps in the surrounding area.

It had been a very private place to die.

REDS and readers, whether dealing with books or projects, what hints do you having for conquering "ugly quilt" syndrome?

What We're Writing: Why Debs is NOT Writing This Week

DEBORAH CROMBIE: As much as we all love what we do, our books and our made-up characters, sometimes real life takes center stage.

Which bring us to...

My only daughter's first baby was due on February 28th. I very anxiously scheduled a three week trip to London, January 5th to the 26th, worried about being out of the country during most of my daughter's eighth month of pregnancy, but desperately needing some very concentrated "in place" work on Duncan and Gemma #17, Garden of Lamentations. I was working around my daughter's baby shower, planned for this last Sunday (January 31st,) and chewing my nails over the fact that before I knew about the baby I had registered for Left Coast Crime in Phoenix, which runs from February 25th to February 28th, my daughter's due date. 

I told my daughter she absolutely could NOT have this baby until I got back from Phoenix! (No Leap Year baby, either!) So I was betting on the first week in March.

Well...

The shower on Sunday was terrific, and huge. The hostesses organized a terrific party, and the gifts (it took four loaded SUVs to ferry them home) completely filled the nursery. 

On Monday I thought I would begin to get caught up from my trip to London.

On Tuesday, my daughter, who never misses work, said she was taking the day off to rest up from the shower and could I help her sort out the gifts? We spent a lovely few hours organizing baby things.

And on Wednesday morning at 3 a.m. my daughter went into labor.

My granddaughter was born at 1:57 p.m., Wednesday, February 3rd, at 36 weeks, weighing 6 lbs 1 oz and measuring 18 3/4 inches long!!!

I was so privileged to see her enter the world, and can't believe I might have missed this! Mom and baby are doing great, and my daughter and son-in-law are absolute champs. They were calm and cheerful and collected during the labor and birth--while the midwife kept reminding Grandma to breathe...

So here's the star of the show, little Wren.

She's so beautiful and so tiny!

Here she is with her dad

With her mom

And with Grammy Debs

Proud grandma! 

Here's to a new and wonderful life! 

(Anyone want to take bets on who's already buying books for the little one?)





 

Portobello Market

DEBORAH CROMBIE: We've had a very wordy week here on JRW, so I thought it was time for a change. 

As many of you probably know, when I'm in London, I love to spend Saturdays at Portobello Market in Notting Hill. In my books, this is Gemma and Duncan's home patch, so I need to keep up to date!

Yesterday was a gorgeous day--clear, crisp, and very cold. The market was buzzing.  Here's a little visual tour, starting from the Notting Hill Gate end of the road and walking down.  This is the famous sign where Portobello Road meets Chepstow Villas.

Here's one of my favorite colorful houses at the top end of the road.

Here's the much photographed Alice's Antiques.

Looking down the hill.

Mr. Christian's deli, where I like to get an energy boost with a coffee and a croisant.

 

Some of the multitude of market stalls.

And food, of course.

The Notting Hill Bookshop, made famous in the movie Notting Hill (although it's actually around the corner from where it's shown in the film.)

My friend Steve Ullathorne's photo stall, always my ultimate Saturday destination, just under the Westway towards the north end of the road.

 

My (very late) lunch, from one of the new food stalls beyond the Westway.

And last, walking back up, the landmark Electric Cinema at dusk (sunset is just after four o'clock.)

By this time I'd been walking about five hours and was absolutely frozen. I had to go in the pub partway back up the road and warm up before walking to the top and taking the bus back to my hotel. 

Photos don't begin to convey the hustle and bustle and color and energy of the market. I've left out so much! Stalls with books and hats and jewelry and furs and cameras, the arcades, flower stalls and fruit and veg stalls, cafes and pubs and buskers and every kind of food you can imagine. 

But I hope you enjoyed the snippets, and will be tempted to visit yourselves. What would tempt you?

(And yes, I did buy a few things, but will only admit to tea...)

What We're Writing: Debs Reveals All

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Everyone has been so patient with me. It's been more than a year since the last Kincaid/James novel, TO DWELL IN DARKNESS, was published. I am such a slowpoke, and I've been excruciatingly quiet on the subject of Kincaid/ James #17, simply because it can get very confusing if information goes out before the book is actually in the publisher's schedule. 

But the next Duncan and Gemma book is now scheduled for August, 2016! (I know that seems like a long way away, but those months will fly by, I swear.) 

The book is called THE GARDEN OF LAMENTATIONS.

Here's a peek at what happens:

On a beautiful morning in mid-May, the body of a young woman is found in one of Notting Hill’s private gardens. To passersby, the pretty girl in the white dress looks as if she’s sleeping. But Reagan Keating has been murdered, and the lead detective, DI Kerry Boatman, turns to Gemma James for help. She and Gemma worked together on a previous investigation, and Gemma has a personal connection to the case: Reagan was the nanny of a child who attends the same dance studio as Toby, Gemma and Kincaid’s son.

Gemma soon discovers that Reagan’s death is the second tragedy in this exclusive London park; a few months before, a young boy died in a tragic accident. But when still another of the garden’s residents meets a violent end, it becomes clear that there are more sinister forces at play. Boatman and Gemma must stop the killer before another innocent life is taken.

While his wife is consumed with her new case, Kincaid finds himself plagued by disturbing questions about several previous—and seemingly unrelated—cases involving members of the force. If his suspicions are correct and the crimes are linked, are his family and friends in mortal danger as well? Kincaid’s hunch turns to certainty when a Metropolitan Police officer close to him is brutally attacked. There’s a traitor in the ranks, and now Kincaid wonders if he can trust anyone.

As Gemma begins to see a solution to her case, she realizes she holds a child’s fate in her hands. Can she do the right thing? And can Kincaid rely on his friends, both inside and outside the Yard, to stand beside him as he faces the deadliest challenge of his career?

I still have loads to do on this novel--finishing the fiddly bits, editing, copy-editing, page proofs--all the things that go into a finished book. And the art department at William Morrow is working on the cover. I can't wait to see what they come up with--for me, the cover really brings the book to life! 

Readers, how important are book covers to you? Do the artwork and design of a cover influence your decision to buy a book?