A HALF-WRITTEN MANUSCRIPT, A JELLYFISH, AND ME. A guest post by Lindsey J. Palmer.

RHYS BOWEN:  Who could not love a post with such an irresistible title? I'm thrilled to welcome Lindsey to Jungle Reds today and to celebrate the pub week of her brilliant new book, RESERVATIONS FOR SIX. 

LINDSEY J. PALMER:  A half-written manuscript, a jellyfish, and me 

It took 800 miles of distance and a jellyfish sting to realize it was time to give up on the novel I'd been toiling over for the past year. Things had been going poorly for a while, as much as I denied it. This was my fourth novel, and I reassured myself that it was expected for me to hit rough patches. I continued dutifully showing up to my Saturday morning writing sessions—although on Fridays, as most people were breathing a sigh of relief for the weekend, my stomach would be in knots, dreading facing that damn document. And the pages kept piling up: 50, 100, 150—halfway to a draft, I tried to encourage myself, even as deep down I knew I'd lost confidence in the story. 

And the longer I kept up the charade, I understood, the harder it would be to abandon. When I gave myself the Mother's Day gift of skipping my writing session for a yoga class, I rationalized that I deserved a break—I don't enjoy writing, I often say, I enjoy having written; but as I lay in savasana alone with my thoughts, I knew this wasn't about a break; it was avoidance. 

All I needed, I thought, was a change of scenery. I've often done my best writing on vacation—no day job to occupy my brain, no alarm clock interrupting that rich soup of early-morning ideas. Luckily, I had a trip planned—a weeklong family reunion with my in-laws on Hilton Head Island. My husband, Damian, was already in the area for work, so I'd be flying down from New York alone with our toddler. When I considered the logistics—one arm to push a stroller, the other to manage our luggage—I knew I could bring only one suitcase. 

So, I streamed a series of flight attendant how-to videos on efficient packing, then set about trying to cram a week's worth of essentials for me and my daughter into a carryon: clothes, toiletries, beach things, and of course, my laptop. Each round of elimination, I eyed the laptop case. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave it behind—because that would be admitting defeat, an acknowledgment that I wouldn't actually spend the coming week in a productive frenzy. So, I removed a few more outfits and a wad of diapers (I could buy some in Hilton Head), topped my brimming suitcase with the laptop case, somehow managed to zip the thing closed, and set off for South Carolina. Upon arrival, I unpacked my laptop into my room’s bottom dresser drawer, and—this will come as a surprise to exactly no one—there it remained for the duration of the trip. 

Meanwhile, I had a grand old time. We were sharing a condo with Damian’s two sisters and their husbands, the so-called “JV team”; there were six kids in their family, and the three older siblings were dubbed “varsity.” We beached, we cooked, we hung out at Damian's brother Pete’s house and watched alligators pass by in the lagoon. Once, in search of my elusive goggles, I cracked that bottom dresser drawer and felt my belly lurch; I quickly closed it again. In the morning hours when I might have been writing, I instead swam laps in the ocean. The turquoise water beckoned—so clear and so temperate compared to the frigid New England waters I was used to. The repetition of strokes was meditative and exhilarating. I’d been a high school swimmer, and during those morning swims I felt connected to my teenage self, when the water had been transportive, making me feel strong and free, long before I began measuring my worth by word count. And then—sting! I was returned in a snap to the present. My hands burned and itched. I didn't register what had happened until I saw the strange translucent bells undulating around me. I fled to shore. Pete, who'd lived on Hilton Head for decades, asked if I really hadn’t known there were jellyfish out there. Well, it looked so idyllic, I answered lamely, gesturing to the winking turquoise surface. Pete laughed goodheartedly. I’d chosen to see what I wanted to see, and of course things were not as they seemed. 

In search of a first-aid kit, I opened that bottom dresser drawer again. It seemed to stare back at me: the abandoned laptop. My skin was on fire, like an alarm sounding off in my body. What was I doing keeping up this pretense of my novel in progress? It wasn’t working, and it was time to accept it. Luckily, the cannonball jellyfish is one of the tamer species. I endured a few days of discomfort, and then I was fine. Shit happens, then you move on. As soon as I realized I wouldn't continue with the novel, I felt lighter, clearer, more attuned to my surroundings. I started paying attention to what was going on in this house: our group of six (plus my daughter), the three siblings and their spouses, the three couples who'd been together a decade or longer, such a close group with so much shared history. 

The next night at dinner, my sister-in-law announced that she and her husband were separating. She opened up about their marriage, and I was struck by how ordinary it sounded: the problems she outlined were similar to the struggles I’d heard about from married friends, similar to ones I’d experienced in my own marriage. It made me consider how maybe a solid relationship was a matter of degree, things being fine until they weren’t, endurable until they weren’t, and how different couples might draw different lines. 

I watched everyone at the table take in the news, perhaps mulling similar thoughts, for sure knowing that this familiar dynamic among the six of us was over. The end of one marriage would have a ripple effect, also spelling the end to our tight-knit group. I didn’t go back in the ocean. The next morning, I woke up, retrieved my neglected laptop, and started typing notes for what would become Reservations for Six: three marriages, six longtime friends, the announcement of a divorce. A year later, I’d written a draft. A year after that, I had a publisher. Six more months, and I held a physical copy of the novel in my hands, which had long ago recovered from the jellyfish incident. But I didn’t forget the shock of the sting, and its reminder to see what was plain in front of my face, to summon the courage to acknowledge what wasn’t working, slough it off, and move on. Like my sister-in-law had done with her marriage. And I did start swimming in the ocean again—in Cape Cod, where I’ve recently moved, where I like to pretend the waters aren’t teeming with great white sharks. 

A little delusion can be a good thing, I tell myself, or maybe I’ve learned nothing. I’ve also started writing a new novel, and honestly, I’m not really sure how it’s going. Have you ever had a sudden realization that shook you out of your denial? Answer in the comments for a chance to win a copy of Reservations for Six.

RHYS: Lindsey, I loved this post. I know the book is going to resonate with so many people Here's to a great launch week.

Lindsey J. Palmer is a writer, editor, and educator. She is the author of four novels, RESERVATIONS FOR SIX, OTHERWISE ENGAGED, IF WE LIVED HERE, and PRETTY IN INK. She worked in the magazine industry for many years, most recently as Features Editor at Self, and previously at Redbook and Glamour. A graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, she earned a Master of Arts in English Education from Teachers College, Columbia University, and taught A.P. Literature and Creative Writing at a Manhattan public school for several years. Nowadays she’s a senior editor at BrainPOP, an animated educational site for kids, which means she spends her days researching topics as diverse as Alan Turing, Juneteenth, and Mindfulness, and then translating what she’s learned into an engaging, narrative format. Lindsey lives on Cape Cod with her husband and daughter. 

Here's the synopsis:

Reservations for Six captures a decade-long tradition among a tight-knit group of friends: On everyone's birthday, the three couples gather to celebrate at their favorite New England restaurant. Nathan is the first to turn 40, and when the cake arrives, he makes a shocking announcement. The birthday ritual, and the relationships, will never be the same again. Confessions follow, and secrets get revealed. One couple's crumbling marriage forces the other couples to reexamine their own marriages, and the fault lines that lurk beneath. Will their bonds be strong enough to survive issues like infidelity, infertility, and waning passion, plus a series of crises that push each relationship to the brink? The answers may prove surprising. A year after Nathan's big declaration, as the group gathers for the year's final birthday celebration, every person and every relationship will be fundamentally changed.

And here are links:

You can find me at lindseyjpalmer.com, www.facebook.com/lindseyjpalmerauthor, and as @lindseyjpalmer on Instagram and Twitter.

The Meaning of Life (why not?)

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN:  So here we all are, and here we are every day, and there’s something that draws us together, right? It’s—what? You never know what’ll be here at the end of that click, right?  It’s always an adventure.  And the destination? It’s different every day.

It’s like that for an author, too, as each new book comes out.  Art Taylor’s new one,  On the Road with Del & Louise: A Novel in Stories, (due out September 15 from Henery Press) is a wonderful experiment in destinations.  And even a metaphor for life. Truly! 

We’ll let Art explain it all.

Blog Hops, Road Trips, and Bigger Travels

                                  by Art Taylor

I’d hesitate to call attention to this post being part of a longer series of appearances, but the idea of a blog tour and going “on the road” seemed somehow connected—and somewhere at the core of the thoughts swirling around in my head right now. I’ve participated in a couple of blog tours already this year and as author friends well know, this kind of thing seems core to marketing plans in today’s social media-driven climate.

But how are you supposed to go about it? What is it we authors should be delivering our readers at each stop of the way?

Having once curated a small blog myself way back when (now defunct), I’ve seen pitches from publicists and authors alike offering a ready-made column to be reprinted ad infinitum (and ad nauseam) by anyone who wants it—which strikes me as inevitably a mistake. While custom-built content for each stop is more challenging and time-consuming, it’s also more interesting for readers, of course—which should ultimately be the sole concern for the writer, even if it means having to brainstorm fresh topics each turn of the tour. It’s an opportunity; and opportunities shouldn’t be wasted.

I recognize that at this point some of you may be thinking, “And yet, Art, you seem to be wasting this this very opportunity right now….”

Please, bear with me—because I want to use that word opportunities above as a hinge of sorts, connecting the dos and don’ts of a blog hop and the dos and don’ts of a road trip and, ultimately, explaining what I was trying to do with my own book, a novel in stories that follows small-time crooks Del and Louise from the American Southwest, up the California coast, then cross-country in a couple of directions en route to Louise’s home state of North Carolina.

A concert tour may allow a rock star to perform a similar set stop after stop, city after city, choreographed almost down to the minute, but a blog tour shouldn’t rehash the same material—any more than a road trip should follow some well-known, well-worn route. The commute to work isn’t a road trip, anymore than the weekly trip to the grocery store is. (No matter how I try to convince my three-year-old otherwise—anything to get him in the car!)

  

Just as a blog tour might offer opportunities—not just for promotion but for connection and exploration—so too should the start of any road trip be filled with a sense of adventure and possibility and opportunity: the open road, the fresh start, the blank slate—and who knows where we’re going this time?

(Again, I recognize that may of you might still be asking, “Where is Art going?” I do not blame you.)

In addition to navigating that up-the-coast and cross-the-country trek, Del and Louise are trying to navigate a lot more: uncertain routes toward success and stability, with more than a couple of economic bumps in the road, and then the even more treacherous paths toward finding and maintaining romance. (Yikes! Where’s a GPS when you need one?)

The structure of the novel isn’t a continuous narrative but a series of six short stories,

each of which begins in a new place, another stop among the many hops of that bigger road trip. Experience accumulates, of course—each of their “fresh starts” (as they call them) builds on what’s come before—but the stakes keep getting upped each time. Repeating similar conflicts and complaints and conquests adventure to adventure wouldn’t be interesting, of course—no more than trotting out that ready-made blog column website after website.

For all of us (trying to connect now the characters in the book with us authors on our own tours), the question that persists shouldn’t just be “Where am I today, this week, next week?” but “What am I struggling with this time or looking for this time?” Maybe the answer to that is simply adventure, maybe it’s bigger perspectives on the world or the self, maybe it’s connection —whether character to character or author to reader, depending on where I’ve ended up with these metaphors (even I’m not sure at this point).

What I’m trying to say is this: As writers, it’s our responsibility to give readers a good ride—whether in a piece of fiction we’ve written or in a simple online posting. It doesn’t have to be a white-knuckled thrill ride each time. Pacing your way through a cross-country journey, a few scenic stops along the way, can be transformative. Even a contemplative jaunt on a leisurely Sunday has its pleasures (and maybe a surprise or two in store, too, we’d hope). Maybe the best rides are not knowing when the Sunday drive or cross-country trip might take that white-knuckled turn.

What I’m saying is this: Ultimately, it’s best to vary our experiences each leg of the journey. Following the same old routes and routines…well, in the end, that won’t get you anywhere, will it? 

  

HANK: Oh, Art, you are amazing, And Reds readers—for more af Art, come back Sunday! For your reading delight, Jungle Reds is, hosting this year’s Anthony finalists for Best Short Story! With info and links to every one!

And talking about destinations—did you go anywhere fun this summer?   Did you plan in advance—or, as Art says…was there a surprise or two along the way? (We saw Alan Alda at a restaurant in the Berkshires! That counts, right?)

Every Good Book is a Mystery--Even When It's Not @msheatherwebb

LUCY BURDETTE: Is there anything more special than a debut novel? Not much! So when I met Heather Webb at the Big Book Club event in Old Saybrook, CT, last fall and heard she had a debut novel coming out in December, I asked her to join us. And she's brought some wonderful thoughts about the mystery of fiction. Welcom Heather!


HEATHER WEBB: I write historical fiction. WAIT! Mystery readers, don’t run off just yet. Sure, I enjoy sparkling details of different eras—the frothy petticoats of a princess, a lamb bone used for buffing marble, steam cars cranked by hand—though these little gems may make historicals magical, they don’t make them INTRIGUING. A story’s intrigue boils down to the one thing the Reds and Red-loves can’t get enough of—mystery.
In a historical (or any novel, really):


 
IT ALL BEGINS WITH A QUESTION

My recently released novel BECOMING JOSEPHINE   is about a young woman from Martinique whose world is turned upside down when her sister dies of fever. Distraught, she visits an island shaman for a glimpse into her future. The wrinkled voodoo woman gives her cryptic advice and voila! We have our first mystery. Will our heroine “be married in a distant land”? Will she “become more than queen” as the shaman predicts? Readers will turn pages to find out.

 
BUT ONE CENTRAL QUESTION ISN’T ENOUGH 

Layering many, smaller mysteries in the story enriches a novel. For example, we already want to know if Josephine will become more than queen in some distant land. But once she’s there and meets her new husband, we want to know—will her new husband love her? Will she be accepted into Parisian society? Then the Revolution comes along and the big question becomes: will Josephine survive the violence? And how does she meet Napoleon anyway? Readers will turn pages to find out.

And those are just the questions pertaining to the protagonist. A good book weaves together loads of other questions, or mysteries, so that:

MANY STORIES CONVERGE

Each multi-dimensional character brings their own story to the table; where they’re from, their backstory—how he/she came to be the way they are. When Napoleon shows up on the scene, he’s a filthy, intense little man with poor manners. Still, the way he seems to know what others are thinking, his brilliant strategist mind, and his passion make him a compelling character. This leaves us wondering about his origin. How does his past shape his personality? His actions? Will his actions thwart his goals? Readers will turn pages to find out.

A FEW WONDERFUL MYSTERIES THAT AREN’T MYSTERIES
 
For good measure, I thought I’d share a few books I adore that are mysteries that aren’t mysteries. Say that five times fast.

The Hunger Games Trilogy by Suzanne Collins: Will Katniss survive? Will she choose Peeta or Gale? Will the revolt against the Capital be successful? (And there are so many more)

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness: What are Diana’s powers? Will she fall for Matthew? What is her witchy family’s past? Will she survive the attack from her enemies?

Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly: How did Andi lose her brother? What will she uncover in that old diary from the French Revolution? Will she fall in love? Will she ever forgive herself?

So yeah, I write historicals. But I chock them so full of questions, small mysteries and larger ones, that I can safely say, mystery readers might like them. After all, any genre, any GOOD book is a mystery. 

What are some of your favorite novels that aren’t mysteries? How did their intrigue keep you turning pages?

Heather Webb is a freelance editor and contributor to popular writing blogs Writer Unboxed, Romance University, and The Debutante Ball. Her debut historical, BECOMING JOSEPHINE released to acclaim from Kirkus Reviews and the New York Journal of Books December 31, 2013 from Plume/Penguin. When not writing, Heather flexes her foodie skills or looks for excuses to head to the other side of the world. She loves to chitchat on Twitter with new reader friends or writers (@msheatherwebb) or via her blog. Stop on by!

Mind Games

JAN BROGAN: I've always thought that novel-writing was a little like delivering a baby. Your brain has to deliberately forget all the pain and agony of the event so that you'd consider doing it again.

A new study on motivation (Haung et al, 2010), posted by my favorite blog, PSYBLOG seems to confirm this.  It's all now official: the motivated mind often steps in  with some helpful trickery.

If the new goal is to be achieved, it must be made to seem less daunting. In other words, if viewed realistically, babies wouldn't be born and novels wouldn't be written.

In the study, participants were told they were going to be involved in an ongoing effort to collect one thousand t-shirts to send to refugees in Haiti. To make sure they were motivated, they were given a lot of background on how important their task was, how desperate the state of refugees, and in particular,  how severe a lack of basic clothing.

One group of participants were shown only two full boxes of t-shirts already collected, simulating the feeling we get at the start of a big project, i.e. that there is still a lot of work to do.

These participants coped with this by over-estimating the number of t-shirts already in the bag. In fact, in comparison to an unmotivated control group who thought there were, on average, 92 in the box, those motivated souls committed to the task estimated there were 220 t-shirts.

The overestimating made them feel that the goal was more attainable. A self-delusional jump start.

Towards the end of the project, study participants also had a habit of keeping themselves motivated to completion by  under-estimating the progress they had already made. This helped them  push themselves on harder as they approached the goal, when the temptation is to slack off.

In other words, we lie to ourselves both to start and to finish.

This all makes perfect sense to me,  especially since I am reading the Steve Jobs biography and learning about his reality distortion field. But how about you? Have you ever tricked yourself into starting or completing a goal?

ROSEMARY HARRIS: Happens every time I start a hike! "This isn't that long...I've gone farther at a higher altitude. Look, I've already gone 20% of the way!" It doesn't work quite as well for me with writing - as in "Whaddaymean it's ONLY 300 pages?

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Oh, yeah. Every time. "Oh, sure, I can write five hundred words a day starting NOW and the book will be finished ahead of schedule." Ha, ha. Only problem is I never have any idea what I'm doing at the beginning of the book... but if we didn't underestimate how hard it was going to be, I don't know how we'd ever get up the nerve to start.

LUCY BURDETTE: Oh of course, it's fun in the beginning! Anything is possible. We're getting ideas like crazy and thinking of crimes and suspects. Only later does it become clear that we really had NOTHING. Little snatches of ideas with nothing figured out... I'm in that stage now where I need another 50 pages at least--but I've long since outrun my synopsis.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Are you kidding me? Tricking myself is an integral part of my entire life. My clocks are set fast so I'm not late. I SET THE CLOCKS. And then I "forget."  I don't enter my whole paycheck to my checking register--so I think I have less money than I really have. I'M THE ONE WHO ENTERS THE DEPOSITS. I believe my own stratagems. Oh, and I hide money from myself.  I stash $20.00 in a little pocket of my wallet, just in case. I put it there! But I always forget, and then when I  need, it, I'm SO happy!  About writing? I don't need to trick myself. The fear works just fine.

HALLIE EPHRON: Until I started writing fiction, I was one of those annoying people who got everything finished early. Projects. Thank you cards. College essays. It wasn't hard; I just did it. I found it calming to know I was ahead of my deadlines.

The problem with a book is that the deadline when you start is SO FAR OFF.  Now I'm a ditherer, and no 'trick' other than a deadline bearing down on me can get me to buckle down and write. And sometimes even that doesn't work unless I already have figured out what happens next.

RHYS BOWEN: I can't trick myself when it comes to writing. I'm in full blown panic mode at the start of every single book. The voice in my head whispers "You'll never get this story going. It won't be long enough. You'll say all you want to in 50 pages. It will be a horrible failure and they'll want their advance back." So the first 50 pages are like pulling teeth. Then there is a glimmer of hope. I see my way ahead. I start to write faster and with more confidence. By page 150 we are romping along merrily. I'm on my 29th mystery now and you'd think I'd realize that I know how to do it. But I've found that I need the panic mode to make me work. Several friends say the same.Nut cases, all of us.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I suspect in my case it's less "tricking myself" than blindly and optimistically planning that I'll be able to write to my max word count every day and that nothing in the rest of my life will interfere with my work. HA. I have to confess, I do the same when I plan to drive somewhere. If Google maps says it takes one hour fifteen minutes, I'll assume traffic is non-existent AND that I'll pick up time by speeding on the highways. Result: always arriving late and harried. Why do I keep doing this I don't know.

JAN: Yes, Julia, I do the same exact thing whenever I go somewhere and I never understood why I did it. Predictably. Almost compulsively. Then, in my last book, Teaser, my addictive protagonist, Hallie Ahern, became dependent on the adrenaline rush of danger (think the Kennedy clan) and I thought - okay,  now I've written something I really can't relate to, because I don't even like the thrill of boardwalk rides.  But then one day as I was racing around, leaving myself no time and getting harried in traffic, the thought occurred to me:  Maybe I'm doing this for the adreneline rush.  I mean, why else would I put myself through this all the time?

But that's some other study I'm sure!  How about everyone else out there? What mind games do you play to get your goals accomplished?


REMINDER: Melissa Robbins, your name was chosen to win a copy of No Way to Kill a Lady by Nancy Martin.  Please email me at Janbrog@comcast.net  with your snail mail address so Nancy can send you a copy.  Thanks! 

GETTING TO THE END

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I'm going to beg your indulgence, dear REDS and readers, in the midst of our THRILLER FORTNIGHT, for a spot of personal indulgence.


This was a milestone week for me. One of many, yes, but still... On Monday night, I typed THE END on the 510th page of my 15th novel. (Like the little reverse number thingy, there?) I'd been working on this book for...well, longer than I should have.  More than a year, which is not, unfortunately, unusual for me.


Of course, most writers whoop and shout with jubilation when they finally, finally get to type, or write, those words. There are all the desperately practical reasons to be glad you've reached the end of a novel--deadline pressure, publication schedules, the absence of any sort of normal personal life for weeks--or months--as we spend our days and nights chained to the keyboard. There's just plain physical exhaustion, and the little matter of bread and butter--most of us write to eat.


So celebration is more than due, and it can make us a little giddy. But there is always, for me, buried in the relief, a twinge of sadness. Mourning, even. 

The book is not really finished--there are still what my English literature professor friend calls "the grubby details"--revision, copy edits, page proofs--so we know we'll be going back to it again and again, tweaking and fixing. But you are never IN the story, living your characters, in quite the same way.


You know how, as readers, you hate to get to the end of a book you really, really love? Even though you know you'll read it again, and you'll appreciate it in ways you didn't the first time, you hate letting go of that first total immersion in the story. That's a little like finishing a book feels to me.


The solution, of course, if obvious. Sit down and start the next one.


So, REDS, readers, is this a common experience? (If not, and I'm just dreadfully neurotic, break it to me gently...)

(P.S. I don't yet have the three winner's of Jon Land's Caitlin Strong novel, STRONG VENGEANCE, but come back on Sunday and I'll announce them.)

I Am What I Write

RHYS: It's been around one hundred degrees all this week and I've been feeling cold all the time. No, I don't have a rare disease. I am not wasting away. I'm in the middle of writing a book that takes place at Christmastime on snowy Dartmoor in England. So most of my day is being spent tramping through snow, cheeks burning in the cold wind.

This has proved to me once again how very caught up in my stories I become. There have been times when my husband recoils in surprise when I snap at him for no reason. He can't even ask any longer "Is it your time of the month again?" I tried to analyse I could come up with no reason I was mad at him.... until I sat at the computer again and realized that my hero and heroine were locked in conflict and the hero was behaving very badly.

I go around feeling terrible when I have to kill someone I have come to like. I don't really see my heroine as my alter ego but I certainly have come to identify with her. I feel sick when she is sick and right now I'm bloody cold.

At a book club talk last night I confessed that I have never been able to murder a child in one of my books. I tried and couldn't do it. I have never been able to write too dark or violent. It's not in my nature.

So do tell, fellow Jungle Reds: how involved do you get in your stories? Is there a limit to the darkness to which you will go? If you are writing a particularly dark story, does it affect your life outside writing?

JAN: When I was writing Yesterday's Fatal, the second in the Hallie Ahern series, my writer's group wanted me to kill off Walter, a cab driver and friend who she linked up with at a 12-step program for Substance Abuse. It made a lot of sense for the plot, but I suffered real grief just thinking about his demise.I just couldn't do it. Walter?? He was her mentor, her rock. I agonized for this for days and then flat out refused. Walter lived.

DEBS: I've had to change the murderer in a book, because I found that although I'd plotted very carefully and all the pieces fit, when I got to the end of the books I just couldn't believe he did it. And I am sometimes blocked for ages when I have to kill a character I really like. Usually my inner dialogue goes like this. "---- has to die. Otherwise you have no book. It's a crime novel. People die in crime novels. If you don't kill ----, you will not have a BOOK! So get the hell on with it!" But I don't like it.

I cry when sad things happen. I'm moody and cranky when things are not going well for my characters. And at the moment, I'm having climatic split personality, as my back story is set in south London in August, while the present day story is set in London in freezing January. Dallas should be giving me lots of inspiration for the HOT part.

HALLIE: We all know that all books are so personal, even when they're not. We're always channel some experience, relationship that kicks up real sensations and emotions. I had a particularly wrenching time writing the scene where the main character Ivy in NEVER TELL A LIE gives birth to her baby. It brought back so many memories. And of course, my worst fear was that something would go wrong--same with my character. I once heard great advice: write your fears. I was certainly doing that.

ROBERTA: The most terrible time for me was when I got the news (after five mysteries featuring aspiring golfer Cassie Burdette) that the publisher did not intend to continue my first series. Cassie started out as a neurotic, hard-drinking young woman who made all kinds of poor choices that had bad effects on her life and her golf aspirations. I dragged her kicking and screaming into therapy and things were definitely beginning to look up, both personally and professionally. So leaving her behind was like a little death with all the accompanying mourning. We had come so far together! Now of course with much time passing, I can see that it was time to let her go--let her live her own life with me watching over it every minute. I understand she's engaged and is playing very well on the LPGA tour:).

HANK: Roberta, that's so nice to hear about Cassie! I wondered, of course.
As for me, if I don't make myself cry when I write the emotional parts, why would I think the readers will cry? I get so happy when I cry, or get goosebumps when my characters say just the right thing. It means--it's working.

JULIA: Oh, my, yes. I have a scene in OUT OF THE DEEP I CRY where a woman (in the 1920s) loses several of her children to diphtheria. I was sobbing so hard when I wrote that I couldn't see my computer screen.

Deb, I also have the odd imaginary climate control, where I feel cold during the many, many times I'm writing about the Adirondacks' harsh winters. The good thing is, I do lots of my work in the summer, and as neither my house nor the university library has air conditioning, a chill up my back is quite welcome!

ROSEMARY: Funny, I just watched Stranger Than Fiction tonight. I don't want to spoil the movie for anyone, but let's just say this post was eerily apropos!

It isn't usually the deaths in my books that trouble me (what does THAT say...) at least not in the first four books, it's the duplicity. I don't really think anyone I know would murder someone but there are some unlikeable characters - particularly in my WIP, which is not a Paula Holliday book. I've started to look at some of the people around me in a whole new light.

I haven't cried when reading or writing one of my own books - I save that for when I read my royalty statements (little joke)but I have scared myself a few times. Not with graphic details, which I can't see myself ever writing, just the unexpected - the good guy who's not all good, the bad guy who surprises you.

RHYS: So fellow writers--fess up about how involved you get with your own stories, and dear readers--do you love books that touch you emotionally, make you cry?

Post-book depression

JAN: There are many different times you say you've finished writing your book. When you complete the first draft. After you've revised and are truly happy with your second or third draft. After you've sent it out for comments and have incorporated the reader comments you think were helpful. But when you finish the last little bit of copyediting and send it to your agent, then you are really done. Right? That's when you can celebrate and do all the things you've been storing up and promising to do when you've finished your book. When you have the luxury of time combined with the satisfaction of having completed a major project.

Only it doesn't work that way. At least for me. The strangest thing about finishing a book is the incredible sense of loss -- and yes, a bit of depression - when it's over. I've done what I've promised myself, I've attacked my task list -- I've called contractors to get house repairs, gone over my expenses and switched cable carriers, cleaned out my sock drawer, and even went to the library to research my next book -- but it's been like moving through jello. My brain hasn't been there. I've been distracted and malfunctioning all week. When I missed a turn yesterday for a routine trip to take the dog to the park, I thought: Geez, I'm just not "present," and then I realized, I WAS PRESENT. Only the problem was I was still PRESENT in the mythical town of Waverley I wrote about. I don't want to leave. I don't want to come back to earth. I remember this feeling from previous books, but I never remember it being THIS BAD.

How about you all. Do you suffer from this malady when it seems like you should be jubilant. Is it the same with every book?

ROBERTA: I've heard folks talk about that post-book depression Jan, but it's not my experience. I enjoy finishing something because it allows me to organize and straighten up and do little jobs I haven't let myself do for months. I was just noticing this today--and recalling that it happens EVERY TIME I'm writing: I can't seem to keep things neat. You could absolutely tell the stage I'm in by looking at my desk...

RHYS: I don't think I experience depression, but certainly a sense or emptiness. It's like the day after my kids went off to college and the house was clean and quiet. And the big question: what do I do with my time when I'm not writing? I think writing a series gives me a comforting sense of knowing I'll be back soon to visit old friends. I'm working crazily to send my next Molly book off before I go on vacation in ten days, so my desk at this moment is not a pretty sight.

DEB: Oh, I'm glad to know that other people experience the same thing, Jan. I usually have a huge surge of elation when I type The End and send that finished draft off to my editor--followed by a crash. And yes, I always have a huge to-do list, and of course I've been looking forward for months to fun things like lunch with friends, but still . . . Even though I write a series and I know I'll be spending more time with the continuing characters soon enough, there are always characters in each book that I hate to let go. Nor can you ever go back and really LIVE in that particular story again.

I'm sure the best way to deal with this is to dive right into the next book, but then there are revisions, and copy edits, and page proofs . . . this is probably nature's way of helping the writer let go, because by the time I've finished two versions (US and UK) of all the above, it's finally easier to move on to the next book.

JAN: Exactly! Finally, I pulled out of it by Saturday. But for three whole days, my brain couldn't concentrate on anything, no matter how hard I tried to focus on my research for the next book. But I'm sort of like that even when I'm reading a book. I hate to end a good novel and find myself very resistant about starting a new one.

HANK: When I finished PRIME TIME, I called my husband into the room, and said "Sweetheart, watch this." I typed "The End" and then I burst into tears. The other books--gosh, I think I was thrilled.

Funny you should bring this up today, Jan. Because at the end of today, I'll be able to gauge exactly how I'll feel. I'm gonna be done. And I think I'll be--ecstatic. But we shall see.

JAN: Well, I hope you fare better than I did. I was ecstatic for one day, and then.... aimless, I guess is the best description. But I'm over it now - THANK GOODNESS. How about the rest of you out there?

Writers Challenge - UPDATE

JAN: I'm thrilled with the response to the Writer's Challenge, which was more than 50 brave participants as of three o'clock Saturday. And I'm amazed at how many of you, like me, needed both a kick in the butt, and some discipline to get away from the Internet.

What challenge?

In case you missed Friday's post, here's the shorthand version: You have to write one page every single day (even weekends) before you check your email or go on the Internet for any reason. For six weeks. There are variations for people who have to go to work so early they can't write first, and for screenwriters. Scroll down to Friday, August 6th post for details.

We've also decided you can sign up late, as long as you make up the lost pages. Actually, you can do whatever you want, how would we ever know?? But, we're relying on the honor system. And of course, your desire to write more consistently and at a higher quality.

To qualify for prizes, you have to comment at least three times, updating us on your progress, your obstacles, your solutions, your eureka moments. Please post your comments on Sundays. Otherwise, it might get lost, as topics change during the week.

JAN's Day One (that was yesterday) experience:

I'm a lunkhead who stays up late reading --All Souls by Michael Patrick McDonald kept me up until 1 a.m. last night -- so I usually like sleep on Saturdays. My husband and I had an appointment to see a house on the south shore at 11 a.m. which meant we had to leave home by 10 a.m. To do my page first, I made the supreme sacrifice and set the alarm for eight o'clock. I went straight to my laptop in my jammies. Because I'd left the screen open to Jungle Red Writers comments the day before, I had to immediately switch out of the Internet and into Word. Then I wrote a page, which actually turned into a page in a half. And a good page and a half at that. Although I couldn't do my yoga first, my husband very kindly made me a latte, which greatly assisted my productivity.

It was about 11:30 when I realized, I'd gotten so carried away with writing, I forgot to eat breakfast. So guys, I wound up having breakfast at 2 pm yesterday. And you know what?? It tasted better because I'd done my Writer's Challenge page for the day!!

So if you really want to enjoy every bite: WRITE FIRST!!

NEWS FLASH (As if you needed any other incentive than the sheer joy of productivity)

Rhys Bowen, our blog mate vacationing in the south of France, has graciously offered to give away a signed copy of her newest Lady Georgie book, ROYAL BLOOD, which comes out Sept 7th. Hot off the presses!

To recap: First prize, drawn randomly, is first choice of Rhys' new book, or any of the books below. I'm also offering a free critique of whatever you wrote during the challenge. (sixty page maximum) But this is totally optional -- you don't have to show anyone your work if you don't want to.

Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel, (Hallie Ephron)
Teaser (Jan Brogan)
Dead Head (Rosemary Harris),
Air Time, (Hank Phillippi Ryan)
Asking for Murder (Roberta Isleib)

There's second and third prizes,also drawn randomly from comments, as well as a prize for the most inspired, insightful and helpful comments. Winners will be awarded one of the books above.

ALSO, if you've signed in as "anonymous" for comments, and want to be entered in the contest for prizes, please give us a way to distinguish you from other anonymous commentators. It can be simple as Anonymous #3 or whatever.

To refresh yourself on the details of the challenge, scroll down to August 6th post.

And go out to that keyboard tomorrow morning and KICK BUTT!!