Writing out of the box

This is the new cover for the Kindle version of my 1988 novel, Mattie, which won a Spur Award from Western Writers of America. I've had the text scanned and just need to proof but I hope to get it up in a week or so. The novel is roughly based on the story of pioneer physician Georgia Arbuckle Fix who rode the western Nebraska prairie to see patients and learned to "read" the prairie as though it had roads. When Doubleday published the novel, they put her soddie in a lush green setting, ripe with trees and other foliage. It looked a bit like England but certainly not western Nebraska. I had emphasized that her soddie on the river was at the only tree crossing for miles--she had three trees. I think the cover above captures the barrenness much better, and I love the sense of space that sky gives. Kudos to Vicki Whistler, who designed it.
When my novel, Libbie, about Elizabeth Bacon Custer, was published, the cover was truly a misrepresentation--some New York artist's concept of the West. As one friend said, Libbie looked like Madonna in 19th century dress. She stood in a prairie, with tall grass all around, by a barbed wire fence--oops! Barbed wire was introduced, I think at the Menger Hotel in San Antonio, in 1874 and Custer was killed in 1876. No way the prairie was fenced in those two years. In the background is a fort, sitting on barren tan ground, the soil of Arizona in contrast to the Kansas prairie she stands in. The fort is built of sturdy logs, with a stockade around it. I had made the point in the book that Army posts in the West did not have fences of any kind--their very openness bothered Libbie, but there were no trees to build stockades. So much for artistic accuracy. At the time I was so glad a NY publisher was putting out my work that I didn't complain until too late. Lesson learned.
I read somewhere the other day that in order to attract an agent or a publisher, the author of a mystery had to think outside the box. The author cited as an example was Charlaine Harris who writes paranormal-vampire books and has indeed been wildly successful. I'm not going there. I have no interest in the paranormal/vampire material that is so popular today (my granddaughter loves it). But I got to thinking about the three mysteries I've written--I'm pretty happy about the first but intend to revise; not so sure about the second; pretty happy about the third, though it is in draft stage. But they are nowhere outside the box. They're perfectly typical cozies--the kind I like to read. Single heroines who are amateur sleuths but also beset by romance problems, clever with-it girls who manage to rescue themselves and solve murders but at the same time ordinary people like you and me. Okay, I admit it, sort of Nancy Drew all grown up and sophisticated--and in more dangerous situations.Hmm. I decided I should begin to think outside the box--but how? Then I thought of Kaye George, a friend and fellow writer who has created a mystery set in the Neanderthal era. Think she can sell it? She's come close a lot but no banana. There have of course been successes with such novels, notably Jean Auel's work and that of  Michael and Kathleen Gear. But I wonder if maybe outside the box is part of the problem--that and publishing trends. Right now, while vampires are big, thinking outside the box in that direction is fine; take it in another direction and you might be in trouble. All this circular thinking leads me to suspect that thinking outside the box is not the answer: witing the very best novel you can is! And watch for Kaye's novel--from all I've read about it, it's darn good and her reserch into that period of history is spot on.

Good Reading

Just finished two books by members of Sisters in Crime. The first was Kaye George's collection of short stories, A Patchwork of Stories, which she self-published on Kindle and Smashwords. Cheers to Kaye for stepping up to the newest trend in publishing that is changing everything about the business. These aren't stories no one would publish--they've all been previously published in various magazines and some have won awards or come close. But as I know too well, it's hard to interest publishers in short stories, especially of the mystery or western variety.
As for Kaye's stories themselves, all I can say is she has a wickedly ironic sense of humor and a vivid imagination. The conclusion of a couple of stories of vengeful wives will leave your head spinning with surprise--and maybe just a bit of a laugh. And who expects to meet werewolves in a collection like this, but they're there. There's a burnt-out cop story, but even he has his unexpected moment of revenge, and there's a dramatic story about a P.I. and a floozy lady at a fancy dance. Order this collection in any of its available forms--Kindle, online, PDF, Nook, Sony Reader, whatever--and you'll be reading all night.
Kathleen Ernst's Old World Murder (Midnight Ink) makes wonderful use of her own background as an interpreter and Curator of Interpretations and Collections at the actual Old World Wisconsin site, so readers learn a lot about historical preservation and Norwegian culture of the 19th century. This is a true cozy, with the central figure the new Curator of Collections, a woman wounded in love. Coming to her rescue, even though she fights his efforts, is a small-town taciturn cop, a drop-out from the Milwaukee police force. Ernst is adept at red herrings, so just when you think you have sorted the good guys (and gals) from the bad ones, you find out you were so terribly wrong. And the killer? You'll never guess. This is the first venture into adult mysteries by Ernst, an established writer for children. Let's hope they'll be more.
Have you noticed that's a real pattern in cozies? The heroine distancing herself from the guy who's trying to help her, determined to do things on her own. I realize the need for conflict to keep the story going, but sometimes I want to reach in the book and shake both of them. I think it's a theme worth exploring sometime.
Two thoughts from today's memoir class: "You never know a subject until you write about it." So true, particularly of getting to know yourself through memoir writing. And a suggestion for grandmothers (and others): Google a Web site called Savvy Grandmothers. Marty Norman's newsletter today was about passing your heritage down to your grandchildren. That, too, is particularly appropriate for memoir writers.

Texas Book Festival and an Austin weekend

We started our trip to Austin with a stop at Heritage Homestead outside Elm Mott (just north of Waco). It's a commune with a wonderful restaurant--almost all the food is grown, baked, etc. on the grounds. I heard an ordinary sandwich--turkey and cheese with mayo--but in their hands it became extraordinary. The grounds are beautiful, and we wandered to the gift shop (hand-crafted items, from weaving and pottery to word-working and a $4900 wooden rocking chair), the pottery shop where no one was working at the moment but we saw more of their ware, the wood shop where we watched them building furniture, all by hand. No electric tools for these folks! We by-passed the weaving shop--Susan Petty was with us, and we'd never have gotten her out of there but she did pick up some brochures on classes, etc. Heritage Homestead is really an amazing place and I urge you to stop there. The picture above doesn't do it credit (the sun was in my eyes and I couldn't see what I was taking) but that's the restaurant building, wonderfully landscaped.
In Austin by 3:30--Melinda and I met her friend (and now mine) K.K. for drinks at Z-Tejas on the patio and relaxed and had a good time. Then I went to Megan's, where we had terrific flank steak and salad for supper. Jamie and his girls arrived shortly thereafter, so I had a good portion of my family together.
Sat. morning everyone left for Sawyer's nine o'clock soccer game--except me. I was reading and drinking tea when Jamie wandered in from the guest apt., so we had a good visit.

Megan and Brandon have recently remodeled their kitchen, opening the house from the front all the way to the back. It's spectacular and makes so much more space for visiting while someone cooks, etc. When the house was empty I took a couple of pictures.

Megan announced a picnic at 11:30 and B. made sandwiches; by 12:15 or so, she decided we'd just go ahead and eat them. Jamie had left to check into a hotel and prepare for his half Ironman. Megan then announced at one that everyone was going to go to the park to throw footballs and kick soccer balls. I begged off, read, had a little wine, and a good nap. Saturday night we ate at Matt's El Rancho, which was fun for me because the Dallas incarnations of that restaurant are in my book, Great Texas Chefs. I particularly liked eating the Bob Armstrong Dip. Ate way too much. This picture is of Uncle Jamie conspiring with his nephews to play tricks on people--they think he's very exciting.

Sunday I went to the Texas Book Festival and, as I have for years, was at the TCU Press both with the A&M consortium, even though I have no official capacity any more. It was good to see so many people I worked with for years and am so fond of. I actually sold two books, both to a good friend from A&M but also went to a program for Smurglets Are Everywhere, a marvelous book of children's poetry written by Alan Birkelbach and illustrated by my neighbor Susan Halbower. Met fellow Guppie Kaye George (a branch of Sisters in Crime for those who are Going to be Published) for lunch--fun to meet someone I've known on the computer for a couple of years. And I sat at the Texas Institute of Letters booth for an hour, though with no interest from the public--still a good chance to visit with my friend Bob Flynn. Went home tired to find Jamie and the girls still at the house--he'd finished his half Ironman in 5 hours 18 minutes, which I thought was really good.

Today we headed home--slowly. Breakfast with my longtime friend Barbara Whitehead, who has designed books for TCU Press for almost 30 years. Then Melinda, K.K., and I went looking for the student who was to drive home with us and got lost in the rolling hills of suburban west Austin. Finally found her, dropped K.K. off at her house, and hit the highway. One stop in Lorena, where there is a block-long quaint old-town section. We were headed for the cheese shop, and I meant to take a picture--the whole place was picturesque. I bought some homemade pimiento cheese and a quarter pound Lorena manchego (delicious!). They have a lunch menu, and we may stop another time.

Home, weary, to be greeted by Jacob who has an earache, but is not settling down to bed. And I'm so sleepy. But what a wonderful weekend.