Genre Madness

After only six months blogging, I’ve managed to find yet another opportunity to blog about genre angst.

This past weekend I attended the Berkeley Mystery Writers Intensive conference. I was a last minute registrant, spurred by Janet Reid’s post last week encouraging west coast writers to attend because they’d have a chance to meet Barbara Poelle. How could I resist? I spent the next few days  polishing/reading aloud my first 25 pages for review by a published novelist, reviewed my currently unrefined “pitch” and headed to Berkeley.

It was an awesome conference, populated with a gracious, entertaining, informative, supportive staff of presenters and nice and cozy with about 25 people seriously dedicated to the craft of writing crime fiction.

To summarize the trail to my genre meltdown, I read the first paragraph of my novel to the group during the session on first lines/first chapters. They laughed. Oh crap, it’s not a funny book, it gets fairly dark, it’s psychological suspense!! Someone commented it read like chick lit. Nooooooooooooo!!! Chick lit is fading, isn’t it? Chick lit meets noir, anyone? I maintained my equilibrium, reminded myself I was still working the first page, wasn’t entirely happy with the first paragraph, maybe it’s just setting the wrong tone. By the morning of the second day, I’d received some positive, offline feedback from fellow attendees and heard a few people quote my opening lines (at least I made an impression). I was calmer.

During my pitch practice, one of the authors hosting the event suggested, suburban noir. I love that. It’s not a defined genre, I won’t find agents listing it as a genre they represent, but it felt very comfortable and a tag I might use to describe my fiction. At the end of the agent Q&A on Sunday morning, Ms. Poelle suggested to another genre fence-sitter and I that it sounded like we had written upmarket women’s fiction. What the hell is that?

I know, I know. It’s not life or death that the novel is precisely categorized in the query letter. I know I’m an excessively precise person, but I have to put some-thing.

For a woman who makes her living in marketing, I’m having a terrible time with this marketing thing. A critical part of good marketing is clear positioning, a crisp message. I don’t think this is it: psychological suburban upmarket noir women’s suspense.

“Done’”!!!

Depending on how you define the word “DONE“, I’m DONE with my novel.

Told from the viewpoints of three Silicon Valley soccer moms, my psychological suspense novel follows the story of a fragile woman whose mental stability is threatened by an unconventional outsider.

This was my target date to be “DONE“, and as of today I’ve finished adding scenes, cutting scenes, and rewriting scenes and dialog sequences.

Of course, I was “DONE” when I finished the first draft. I was “DONE” when I finished a clean-sheet rewrite after the first draft. Was I DONE after rewrites 2-6, depending on how you count them? I’m “DONE” with beta reader feedback, critique group feedback and more beta reader feedback.

I’ll take the rest of November for a quick once-over to weed out some inconsistencies that popped up when I cut scenes.

Then it’s time to read it out loud — all 93,259 words. (I know that auditory polishing will help it shed more unnecessary words, a diet that should put it under 90,000). During voice breaks, I’ll finish compiling my list of agents and work on my query letter. (As you can tell from the brief summary above, my query  needs a lot of work.)

So yes, I’m “DONE“. Time to celebrate!!!

Peer Pressure

Part of the benefit of NaNoWriMo is the peer pressure. We show up at our day jobs every day, in part, because of peer pressure, paycheck pressure. With fiction writing, until we have a publisher, the deadlines have to be self-imposed. And I’ve seen many slip past as I “re do” my timeline, readjust my plans.

So in addition to the virtual peer pressure of NaNoWriMo — I’m at 5,651 words as of yesterday, about 650 words “ahead of schedule” — I’m using today’s post to create some additional peer pressure.

I’m targeting November 11 (2009!) as the completion date for the final re-write of my WIP. That means all research nits will be completed. All that will remain is the final read-through (out loud) to polish it to the brightest shine I can manage.

By posting the date, I’m telling myself that nothing will de-rail me. I want this novel done this year. I’m ready for something new and ready to run the agent-seeking gauntlet for my psychological suspense novel, set in Silicon Valley.

Deadline Junkie

It seems I’m a deadline junkie. Just when I think I’ve set a manageable goal of finishing the final edit on my novel by mid-November, I decide, well, that’s not quite enough.

For some reason, Linda’s thoughts on NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), in which 100,000 crazed individuals around the globe write a novel in thirty days, elicited some perverse reaction. Linda mentioned the compulsion to stop and edit. It might have been that line that pushed me to action.

I’ve been editing for a very long time now. In the editing process, I’ve found lots of opportunity for fresh creativity, but let’s face it, I’ve been with these characters and this story for a long time. (There was that one holiday where I went off to write a novel in a year, so why not a novel in a month?)

On a whim, I registered, looked through a list I keep of stories I want to pursue in future novels, picked one and immediately two characters popped up. So I’m off and running. 1,667 words a day to reach the goal of 50k words in a month. I’m at 3506 as of today, so slightly ahead, and I’ll try to build a back-log this week just in case, you know, LIFE, intervenes this month.

Although I never thought I’d consider NaNoWriMo, I like the concept — force yourself to write so fast that you don’t have time to stop and critique yourself, thus shutting off the inner critic and allowing the creative side, the right brain, the muse — whatever you want to call it — a chance to speak unhindered. Well, almost.

For some reason, tight deadlines get my adrenaline flowing. And already I’m having fun watching what flows out onto the screen. Of course, it’s psychological suspense, and of course, I’m ahead of schedule on the final edits for my WIP, so that project will get done. Wish me luck.

Painful Flight

It’s almost the cocktail hour on the west coast of the US, and it’s Friday, so here’s a new piece of flash fiction at Flash Fiction for the Cocktail Hour – Painful Flight.

Rain

TGIF — it’s Friday, almost cocktail time in the US pacific time zone. This week’s piece is micro rather than flash fiction: Rain.

Tut

I didn’t go to see the King Tut exhibit because of the theory that won’t die — speculation that he was murdered. If he had been murdered, it would have made it more thrilling for me, fantasizing about a trip into the psyche of an ancient person and what drove her (or him) to murder.

I went because I’m in love with all things Egyptian. From the personalized file icons on my Mac (eye of Horus and Nefertiti) to a quilt my mother made for me, my life is littered with all things Egyptian. I’ve been fascinated, some would say obsessed, with Egypt most of my life. Mara, Daughter of the Nile, sparked my fascination when I read it as a child. I loved that book and read it several times. I re-read it as an adult.

For years, I longed to visit Egypt. A few years ago I read that thousands of people visit the pyramids daily. That dampened my enthusiasm considerably. Although, while researching that point for this post, I saw one site that noted only 300 people a day are allowed access to the pyramids. Maybe my desire to visit will see a re-birth. The thing is, I don’t really want to go to Egypt now, I want to go 3,000 years ago.

So when Tut came, I had to go. There were several interesting objects I’d never seen, a scepter and some exquisite medallions that made me marvel at the skill of ancient people — we haven’t come quite as far as we think we have.

In the end, I found myself a little disappointed. There wasn’t as much as I’d expected, and there wasn’t the sense I’d hoped for of disappearing into the past of my imagination. I live not far from an Egyptian Museum run by the Rosicrucians. More times than I can count, I’ve wandered through the replica of a tomb, studied the mummies and slipped myself into dioramas of Egyptian life. It has less gold, but for indulging my fantasy, the Egyptian Museum is far superior to the Tut exhibit.

I don’t write historical fiction, but sometimes I wonder … psychological suspense in Ancient Egypt. It feels like a match made in heaven.

New Cocktail Fiction – What’s That You Said?

TGIF, that means there’s a new story at Flash Fiction for the Cocktail Hour.

So Lucky

There’s no new Flash Fiction for the Cocktail Hour this week because my flash, So Lucky, is appearing at the online pub, Every Day Fiction. TGIF.

Are they kidding?!!

I was browsing CNN and I like to pop in at their Career Builder feature from time to time for advice on the working life. This week, one of the articles covers careers in little-known fields. That’s an interesting topic, for the casual seeker. But the premise of the article is that it’s difficult to find a job in this economy and that many are competing for the same positions.

The solution, in this competitive market — consider work in a lesser-known field. The premise is still ok. Then I read jobs #1 and #2 on the list:

1. Accent-reduction Specialist
2. Casting Director

Are they kidding?!! Here are the requirements: for the Accent-reduction Specialist, all you need is a Masters or PhD in speech language pathology. Nice advice for a twenty-something in college, but are they really serious? Oh, I think I’ll apply for Accent-reduction Specialist because I forgot I have this advanced degree in speech pathology?

The casting director doesn’t need an advanced degree (although a background in the Arts, English or Film is helpful). What’s the primary requirement? Experience. Yes, most casting directors start out as interns. Again, great advice for a college grad who has mom & dad’s support while getting a footing, but not for a laid off worker trying to break away from the pack.

I know it’s difficult to write substantive articles on careers in this economy, but all I could think of were my former co-workers, several still looking for employment. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’m trying to laugh.

Given the list, and the long haul to achieve the requirements, I’m surprised Novelist wasn’t on the list.