Years ago, when I was an aspiring writer — pre-published, some folks call it nowadays, although I would maintain one is pre-published only if one has a contract to publish* — I read a profile of Robert Crais. He was touring for Voodoo River, which happens to be one of my favorite Elvis Cole books, and the article portrayed a man subsisting on airline peanuts, appearing before sometimes-thin crowds**, and — this was the part that bothered me — never finding time to write. I swore it would be different for me if I ever got published and was lucky enough to tour. And it is, largely because most airlines don’t serve peanuts anymore.
Seriously, I can write while touring, depending on the schedule. In my head, it plays out like an affirmative version of Green Eggs and Ham — “I will write my words on a plane/I will write them on a train/I will write while in a Starbucks/I will write as ninjas come at me with nunchuks.”***
But this has not been one of my better writing weeks. Most of the problem is the book itself. Key scenes are missing in the first third and while I advocate galloping through the first draft, the absence of certain information sometimes makes it hard to go forward. It’s like trying to build a house when the foundation is shoddy. So I have turned back, a little reluctantly, and tried to figure out what’s missing. I’ve also tried to find opportunities, as I think of them, in my own work — glancing references that, upon closer inspection, might become vital parts of the story. It’s important that I get the early chapters in shape now because it’s only going to get harder in the weeks to come. I call up the calendar on my laptop and peer at it anxiously: How am I going to get through the next two months?****
I am very grateful for the opportunity to tour. But I feel as if I’m working only when I’m writing. Events, interviews, e-mail, etc. — that, to me, is the equivalent of filling out my expense account at the Baltimore Sun. Vital, and in my best interest, but I never thought of it as work, more like acceptable busy work when I was too tired to do real work.
This weekend marks my last normal one for quite some time. Be kind to me on the road if our paths cross. And keep checking here for updates, but perhaps not every day.
*If you want to insist that writing diligently and hoping to publish constitutes being pre-published, then I maintain that I’m pre-pregnant.
**Although I’ve always been candid about attendance at my events, I do regret it when bloggers come to a poorly attended event and put it in the context of “Oh, poor Laura, she’s such a loser, no one came to see her, unlike this Big Name or that Big Name, who drew a hundred people at the same store.” Attendance at signings is a function of many things. I never take it personally when people don’t show up, because it’s not really personal. In fact, I keep in mind the story a Really Good Independent Bookseller once told me about a New York Times Bestseller and All-Round-Great Guy who had a crowd of zero one night, and for no reason that anyone could discern. (Weather, competing events, the bookstore advertising the wrong date, geography.)
***You try to come up with a PG-rated rhyme for Starbucks.
****My always supportive SO said to me this morning: “If your day met my day in the street, my day would beat the crap out of it and leave it in a quivering puddle on the side of the road.” The thing is, he’s right. Context helps.
*****The asterisks are stolen from the blog of Stuart MacBride, which explains the title of today’s entry, part of the old adage: Immature artists imitate, mature artists steal.
****My always supportive SO said to me this morning: “If your day met my day in the street, my day would beat the crap out of it and leave it in a quivering puddle on the side of the road.”
Funny, I’ve been thinking the opposite about a comparison of our days, Laura. I can’t believe how much you accomplish in any given day. Just one of your items on a to-do list would have me basking in accomplished glory and looking for a rest break.
>*If you want to insist that writing diligently and hoping to publish constitutes being pre-published, then I maintain that I’m pre-pregnant. <
I utterly love you. ::g::
Laura, I have to get friends in other cities to attend author events for me. Dallas, Texas is not usually on anyone’s tour stop. I think booking agents don’t realize how big Texas is, and think, “Ok, let’s send her/him to Austin (or San Antonio, or Houston), and that’ll do it for Texas.”
Here I sit, in suburban Dallas thinking, “Nope, I am NOT driving 6/8 hours to say the same stupid things all the other star struck fans say to get a copy of a book that says the same thing all my other autographed books say.”
Sorry. Have the flu today. I am at the crabby stage. I have a weird rant about it on my blog, which I don’t usually share, because it is a knitting blog, but what the heck. Delirium does strange things.
And, I WOULD come to see you if you were in the DFW area. I promise. And, I would say glowing things about you on my blog….the knitting one.
Hmmm. I haven’t gone through menopause. I am permanently post-pregnant.
Ann-Marie, who may have a friend attending the Texas Librarians Convention in April, who will get her a copy of your book then. With the usual autograph
Jerome Weeks, the former book columnist for the Dallas Morning News (now running a very smart blog, Book/Daddy, over at the Arts Journal) pointed out recently that Dallas’s lack of a good bookstore venue has affected its author signings. Austin has BookPeople. San Antonio has a very good mystery bookstore, Remember the Alibi, and the Twig. Houston has Murder by the Book, etc. (And Brazoria?) I did come to a Fort Worth library event back in 2003, but for those events to work, they have to bring in new authors every year.
And I’m on for Alaska, just need to make my reservations.
As for Trader Joe’s two-buck chuck/in Baltimore, we’re out of luck. The liquor lobby is powerful here/So in our groceries — no wine, no beer.
Quote from Laura “Jerome Weeks, the former book columnist for the Dallas Morning News (now running a very smart blog, Book/Daddy, over at the Arts Journal) pointed out recently that Dallas’s lack of a good bookstore venue has affected its author signings.”
That does it. As soon as my ship comes in, I am opening a book store here, and running it even if it loses money. Laura, you can be my first guest author.
Ann-Marie Hey, it could happen.
I’m there Ann-Marie. I have very fond memories of Dallas. When I was 22 and living in Waco, I would drive to the Inwood to see movies. (When I was 22 and in Texas, it made perfect sense to drive 100 miles to see movies. I did it all the time, in Dallas and Austin. That’s how I saw The Stunt Man, The Getting of Wisdom, The Buddy Holly Story . . . more titles will occur to me later.)
Okay, two stories from today’s My Life as a Writer file:
1) Entertainment Weekly gave me a B+, which is as high as I can get with them for some reason. (Sigh: I live with someone who gets A-pluses from them.) But it’s a good review. The only criticism is that the ending is “pat.”
2) I decided to try to a high-end Northwest Baltimore boutique to buy something for CBS next week. And I was honest, told the saleswoman what I was doing. Unfortunately, I was having a day when I was very fat in my head (and maybe my body, too, but I’ll blame my head) and nothing in the store was going to work. Meanwhile, the saleswomen and the customers kept knocking at the door and saying, “Are you Laura Lippman? I love your books!” And, in one memorable case: “Are you the writer who writes about Jewish people?”
I forgot to add — the whole shopping adventure was redeemed by a visit to We Fit, Baltimore’s most famous bra store, where most women discover they are wearing the wrong size. I wear the right one, but I wear it incorrectly. (Yes, there is a correct way: Strap low, ladies, strap low!) And I wash my bras incorrectly. “The life of a bra is three months,” the saleswoman told me, and I am REELING from that information, as I know my “youngest” bras were purchased in October 2005 and my favorite bras date back to . . . 1996, 1997?
She hastened to add that the life of a bra can be extended through the proper washing techinque.
for me, anytime you can use “ninjas/nunchunks” in a poem is money.
Of course, we will be kind to you at your stops. We are your fans and supporters! And to any attending relatives. Promise!
***/I will write wearing tux or mukluks.
helpful Annie
)
/I will drink oodles of two-buck chucks?
I’ll try to make two out of three of your Denver events, Murder By The Book and The Tattered Cover! Heck, if you play your cards right, I’ll even give you a ride between the two and show you Beany Malone’s house on the way!
Laura, is We Fit on Reistertown Road in Pikesville? I need to visit.
Murder By the Book in Denver, too? Cool!
I’d attend Laura but I doubt Anchorage is on your tour. I am looking forward to B’con the end of Sept., are you coming? I’d be happy to buy your book and stand in line for you to sign it. I really like Annie Cs rhyme best.
Sly in Anchorage
Thanks, Laura. Soon I will be perfect, after 65 years!
That’s the place (not far from my signing Friday night <g>). Seriously, it’s south of the Old Court Road intersection and there’s metered parking on the side street, which makes it easy by Pikesville standards.
*If you want to insist that writing diligently and hoping to publish constitutes being pre-published, then I maintain that I’m pre-pregnant.
*snort* you and me, both, girl! (madly typing on a new novel that seems to be jumping out of my brain willy nilly…and almost fully formed on the page…I HOPE IT WORKS THIS TIME!