Adventures in Bedlam

Diary of Bedlam

Update 10/6/11: DIARY OF BEDLAM is currently being revised.

I am seeking representation for my historical mystery, Diary of Bedlam, a standalone novel set in 1678 London with series potential:

Lady Isabel Wilde, a former English spy and occasional favorite in King Charles II's bedchamber, has a secret: she makes her living disguised as Mistress Ruby, a fortuneteller who caters to London's elite. Charlatans, rogues, villains, and swindlers lurk in every corner of the city, and Isabel concedes she is one of them. But hard experience has taught her that women have few enough advantages in this world, and her conscience does not often bother her.

Where I Work

On Tuesday we celebrate the one year anniversary of living in our house. To celebrate, I thought I'd post pictures of my office space.

John Hornor Jacobs started this "trend" of writers showing their office a couple of months ago. It took me that long to clean up and rearrange my office, but over the weekend I finally got it in some kind of working order.

Here is the wide shot:

The room is pretty big, but since it's got to function as both my office, my gym, and our guest room, space must be used wisely.

Well, maybe not so wisely, because my desk is huge, and I love it. I got it from a Craigslist ad about four months ago.

There are actually no bookcases in the room since I've got a big one in the hallway right outside the door. But these are the books I use on a regular basis or that inspire me so I keep them close.

I know three monitors seems excessive but really, they are very useful.

The picture below is my treadmill desk. It's really not very high tech--Mick just built me a little wooden platform I can rest my laptop on. I try to go 10,000 steps a day, and most days, that means I have to spend a little quality time on the treadmill.


I was going for a Mad Men vibe with my furnishings. Didn't quite acheive it, but I'm very happy with it just the same. I got this chandelier for less than $100 on Overstock.com.

Another Craigslist find. This dresser is actually one of my favorite pieces of furniture in the house.

So I mentioned my office is also the guest room. This is actually a trundle bed that pulls out to make a king-size bed. Buying this was one of the best decisions we ever made because it saves so much space but allows our guests to be comfy.


Finally, this chair (another Craigslist item) doesn't serve much of a purpose other than to be awesome (it's partner is in the living room).


I still need to paint since the mint green doesn't quite do it for me, but that might not happen for awhile.

So this is where I work most days. If I'm writing a first draft I use a yellow legal pad and write all over the house. Sometimes I sit at the dining room table too because for some reason I find it hard to sit in the same spot all the time.

Wanna see more writers' offices?

John Hornor Jacobs
Daniel B. O'Shea (He inspired the treadmill desk)
Keith Rawson

Confessions of a Terrible Dog Mom

This is an admittedly self-indulgent post, but really, aren't they all? Still, I feel required to begin with that disclaimer because I'm feeling rather traumatized at the moment when I really have no right to be, as you shall soon see. On with the post then.

There's nothing quite like watching your twelve year-old, arthritic dog fall head first down ten stairs to ruin your day. 

Much to my surprise, he's fine. He got up, shook himself off, and waited for Mick to come down and carry him down the remaining stairs. He went for his usual morning walk and everything seems to be in the semi-working order it was in before the fall.

But if there was any doubt I'd make a terrible mother, let it be dispelled now, because the whole incident was my fault. Allow me to explain:

Our little family has a routine. Somewhere between 4:30 and 6:30am, the dogs decide it's time to get up. Some days are more urgent than others--if we don't act quick enough, there might be an accident. Or in Stella's case, an "accidentally on purpose." This morning things didn't seem too frantic and we all took our time.

One of the reasons we bought this house was so that we wouldn't have to take our aging dog Stuart down to the street four times a day in the condo elevator. We went through that with Kramer and cute as he was in his little red wagon, it was really no fun for anyone. Now that Stuart had reached seniorhood, it seemed a nice little backyard was just the thing.

But damned if we didn't choose a house with stairs leading to the master bedroom. Stuart's had trouble with those stairs pretty much since the first moment we moved in, and most days/nights, Mick hauls him up and down. I don't do it because frankly, I'm afraid of falling down them myself, and carrying Stuart only increases the liklihood I'll end up at the bottom of the landing in a heap. 

This brings me to Stella. Being the untrustworthy sort, her feet are forbidden to touch the floor in the morning until after she's been outside. I carry her downstairs every morning (at nine pounds vs. Stuart's thirty, she's a much safer option for me). 

This morning Mick must've took a little too long to get ready because Stuart followed me to the stairs instead of waiting for Mick to carry him down. It happens occasionally and I didn't think much of it. But this time, when he stepped onto the first stair, his back legs collapsed. He wouldn't, or couldn't get up, even with some gentle prodding. I was still holding Stella and didn't want to risk putting her down, so I propped up Stuart's hind legs to see if they were still working. Sounds perfectly reasonable, right?

Except I propped him up ON THE STAIRS. With his front legs on a bottom step and his back legs on the step behind it. Truly, I might as well have shoved him down the stairs myself, because pretty much as soon as I let go of him, he tumbled helplessly down to the bottom of the landing. HEAD FIRST. I could only watch in horror. I didn't move, I didn't even let go of Stella. I JUST WATCHED (and screamed for Mick).

Hell, I think even Stella was traumatized because she was strangely subdued as I attached her leash. Usually she's scratching at the door, desperate to get out and bark at the world.

Like I said, Stuart's okay, sleeping peacefully as if the whole thing never happened. But I remain sad and troubled, because what I did was not only thoughtless, it was lazy. It was clear Stuart's legs were not working properly this morning--how hard would it have been for me to stand there and wait for Mick? Or, God forbid, let Stella run down the stairs herself so I could help Stuart? 

What if he would've hurt himself?

Oh, the shame.

I'll get over it. But right now I'm feeling pretty damned guilty.

 

Mini Review: Before I Go to Sleep by S.J. Watson

From the book's website:

Christine wakes up every morning in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar man. She looks in the mirror and sees an unfamiliar, middle- aged face. And every morning, the man she has woken up with must explain that he is Ben, he is her husband, she is forty-seven years old, and a terrible accident two decades earlier decimated her ability to form new memories.

But it’s the phone call from a Dr. Nash, a neurologist who claims to be working with Christine without her husband’s knowledge, that directs her to her journal, hidden in the back of her closet. For the past few weeks, Christine has been recording her daily activities and rereading past entries, relearning the facts of her life as retold by the husband she is completely dependent upon.

Every day, Christine must begin again the reconstruction of her past. And the closer she gets to the truth, the more un- believable it seems.

What happens when you've lost your memory and must begin every day without remembering the day before it? This is what's happened to Christine Lucas. The prospect seems disturbing, even horrible, at first, but as the book goes on you realize that it's truly terrifying.

If I had one criticism of this book, I'd say it wasn't fast paced enough, but then I generally read novels so fast paced I find myself gasping for breath. By comparison, this one moves relatively slow. However, it is full of suspense, and I quickly became completely invested in Christine, rooting for her to regain her memory, or at least understand what had happened to her. Ultimately, it's a thoroughly satisfying read.

I gave Before I Go to Sleep 5 stars on GoodReads.

Mini Review: V is for Vengeance by Sue Grafton

Happy New Year!

I love the start of a new year. Everything feels all fresh and full of potential. Actually, I love smaller starts too: Mondays, Birthdays, whatever. I don't need much to motivate me to start something new or act on a plan.

That said, I do have a few goals for 2012. One of them is to read more books and another is to review more of those books. I'm not much of a reviewer though--I leave that to my friends like Jen Forbus, Elizabeth A. White, and Pop Culture Nerd.

Still, I do like to record my thoughts about books on websites like GoodReads, and occasionally, Amazon (though I would encourage you to purchase the book at your local independent bookstore, such as Mysterious Galaxy or Murder by the Book). Just a quick blurb about what I liked and/or didn't like about a novel. Starting this year, I'm also going to post these "mini reviews" here on my blog.

So, without further delay, here's my first review of 2012:

Overall, I loved this book, as I do all the Kinsey Millhone novels. Reading one is like visiting an old friend, and I always feel a tiny bit lonely when I'm finished, knowing it'll be two years before I get to see her again. With that said, V's plot was a little too convoluted and tied up a little too neatly at the end. It starts out strong, then sags a bit toward the end of the middle, without picking up again until nearly the very end. It's still a good book, and worthy of Kinsey, it's just not the best of Grafton's series.

 

Top 10 in '11

This year I kept track of the books I read using Good Reads. I set an initial goal of reading 25 books, but upped it to 35 sometime mid-year when I realized I was way ahead of schedule. I'm at 33 now with three weeks to go until we ring in the new year.

Here are my top ten picks for 2011, in no particular order:

1) A DROP OF THE HARD STUFF by Lawrence Block

What can I say? This book was a treat. I thought we'd seen the last of Matthew Scudder, one of my all-time favorite private eyes in fiction, but thankfully, Mr. Block decided he had another story to tell about Matt Scudder and the result is one of the strongest Scudder novels yet.

Guest Review: POSSESS by Gretchen McNeil

My friend Kate Carruth is a 13-year-old avid reader who was kind enough to stop by my blog today and give her thoughts about Gretchen McNeil's debut novel, POSSESS. Thanks, Kate!

The novel Possess by Gretchen McNeil is a unique and equally thrilling story. With a tough and rebellious heroine and a mysterious cast, the whole plot makes a great story that you just do not want to put down. McNeil does a skillful and artistic job of piecing everything together in her very first novel.

Possess starts off with a bang and no lag at all. The main character, Bridget, comes off as any other good Catholic girl who cares next to nothing about what people think about her. And then you realize, after you learn of her father’s murder and a demonic experience of banishment, she as far from your typical teenage girl as one can get. After hearing cold, monstrous voices in the walls and feeling the atmosphere around her change, she seeks out help from the exorcist Monsignor Renault, who teaches her how to use her newfound power. Everything changes when a suspicious character turns up, Father Santos. He warns Bridget of what she is and is surprised to hear that she doesn’t already know. Once a close friend of hers is murdered at her church, the only person she can trust is luscious, but annoyingly overprotective, Matt Quinn. That’s when the story really begins to take off and the mysteries unravel.

I’ve been super excited to start reading Possess over my Thanksgiving break. I am pleased to say that the story was simply astounding. The main character, Bridget, is loveable and somebody you can totally relate to (except for her exorcism powers, that is). The humor in this book is much like the humor Rick Riordan shows in his Percy Jackson series to ease the darkness and tension of some parts. Also, the right information is given to you at the right time, unlike some books that throw a boatload of knowledge at you out of the blue. Another one of my favorite aspects of this book is the romance. You really feel how the character feels for another character, and the love isn’t excessive’ cheesy, or sappy. This is finally a book that fits that criteria. If you liked Banished by Sophie Littlefield or the fantasy bits of the Twilight Saga by Stephanie Myers, I highly suggest this book. Possess is aimed toward people who love thrillers with dark humor. It is most definitely a book that will please everyone.

This novel is surely one that will please all who read it. Possess is an incredible story, the first book written by Gretchen McNeil. I am very impressed with her ability to write for she has a really special gift. If you’re searching for an exciting, captivating read that never skips a beat, look no further than Possess. Trust me, it’s seriously awesome and worth your time.

I'm Just Drawn That Way

I'm sitting here listening to Levon Helm sing The Mountain. It's a song about coal mining that's touches me so deeply that it makes me want to weep. It also makes me want to write beautifully tragic stories.

It got me thinking about things and places I'm drawn to, that I've always been drawn to. I don't know, maybe my viewing of COAL MINER'S DAUGHTER at the tender age of twelve influenced me (and coincidentally, Levon Helm played Loretta Lynn's father in the film), but I do have an attraction to the culture of coal mining, West Virginia, and Appalachia. Mind you, it's a romanticized version (like if Disneyland had a "Coal Mining Land"), but an attraction just the same. And I don't mean to make light of coal mining--I know it's a tough, dangerous life.

Someday I'd like to write a story set in this world, but my greatest fear is not doing it justice. It deserves to have justice done.

But that said, I felt the same way about London, specifically 17th century London. I honestly don't know why I thought I could write a novel set during this time (especially my first novel), but somehow I managed to do it. I'm still working on doing it justice, but I have no doubt I will.

So there's hope for my Appalachian mystery yet.

Other things I'm drawn to:

-- Voodoo and other African religions and how they adapted themselves to Christianity
-- Storyville in New Orleans
-- California Gold Rush country (I grew up there)

Will I ever write stories or novels about these places/things? I probably will. But one thing just struck me--everything I'm compelled to write about starts with a place or a time in history, or a theme. The characters come second. I don't mean to say they come second in the actual writing, but the thing that forms first for me is the setting, and then I mold the characters to fit into it. I wonder if that will change as I continue writing?

What about you? What are you drawn to?

 

 

Two Bits of Advice

1. Read your work aloud

2. Write flash fiction (generally stories 1000 words or less).

An Ode (of sorts) to NEEDLE Magazine

Don't know why, but the more I look at this cover, the more enthralled I am by it:

Sure, part of the reason is because my name's on it, I ain't gonna lie. It could also be the nipples. But John Hornor Jacobs, the Creative Director at NEEDLE: a Magazine of Noir, designs some kick ass covers. I've been a fan for a long time.

Nothing Like the Sun

Mick and I celebrate our 1st anniversary

Today marks the 13th anniversary of my marriage to my partner in crime, Mick. We met through an online personal ad I placed in December 1996, and though I can't find the text of the ad at the moment, I know I began it with Shakespeare's sonnet #130:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
If have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more deight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
  And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
  As any she belied with false compare.

Deep, huh? I thought so.

Within 48 hours, I received nearly 100 responses to that ad of mine. I only responded seriously to three or four. I remember one of them was an Indian fellow, and another was a single father of two children who was also a Christian minister.

What would my life have been if I had chosen one of them, I wonder?

Mick's response to my ad stood out in it's subtle humor, and I also liked that he was English (after all, I didn't have much to go on at that point). I later found out he'd written it after a drunken night out with the boys. No matter, we talked on the phone the next day and met in person soon after that.

For those of you who haven't heard the story, my roommate and I were having a New Year's Eve party and I invited Mick. He arrived some time after midnight and my first words to him in person were "Here, drink this quick," as I held out a plastic glass filled with champagne. The date was January 1, 1997.

We've been more or less inseparable since that moment.

I don't believe in soul mates. I don't believe people are meant for each other in any cosmic sense. But I sure am glad my path crossed Mick's and that we decided to merge our paths, because this life is damned good.