On Finishing FINNEGANS WAKE

I’ve only ever belonged to one reading group, and for eight and a half years we’ve been reading the same book, Finnegans Wake. Yes, you read that right: it’s been eight and a half years. We started the book in April of 2009 and I am thrilled to announce that last week we finally finished James Joyce’s encyclopedic romp through the history of everything.

Finnegans Wake (that’s not a typo—there’s no apostrophe; think of it as a subject and verb) may well be the most difficult English language book there is to read, as it’s full of made-up portmanteau words and foreign language puns, and is written in a dense, stream-of-consciousness style. But if you can wade through the prose, it’s wonderfully rewarding: insightful, beautiful, and at times laugh-out-loud funny. (For a peek at the text, click here.)

It’s helpful to read what others have said about the work, and we bring along satchels full of literary criticism, concordances, and annotations, which we continually consult. We also drink Guinness, which aids in the process (our meetings are held at an Irish pub here in Santa Cruz, the Poet and Patriot).

So, what—you may be wondering—will we turn to now that we’ve finished the Wake? Well, as some of you are no doubt aware, Finnegans Wake begins mid-sentence, the beginning of which occurs at the very end of the book:

       riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs....

[625 pages of text]

... A way a lone a last a loved a long the

As a result, we have no choice but to begin the whole thing all over again. Which we will do (after several months’ break). And this time it will be ever so much easier! (Not.)

A well-loved copy of the Wake

Sláinte!

What I Learned at the California Crime Writers Conference

It’s Monday morning in Culver City on a gorgeous Southern California day. From my hotel room window, I can see reflected in the mirrored building across the parking lot the low peaks of Baldwin Hills, the purple of a jacaranda tree just coming into bloom, and the traffic on Hwy. 405—now at a virtual standstill heading north, the direction we need to drive to get home to Santa Cruz.

A good time to set down some of my thoughts about the weekend. I came down here for the California Crime Writers Conference (CCWC), a terrific event presented every two years by the Los Angeles chapters of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America, that features panels and workshops on the craft of writing, marketing, publicity, and crime scene and investigative forensics.

But as all of us writers know, the most important part of conferences like these is hanging out with the other attendees, because mystery writers are the most warm, generous, and fun people on the planet. I never fail to come away from CCWC feeling inspired, recharged, and ready to write with renewed vigor.

dinner with a gang of writers at CCWC

Two of the highlights of this year’s conference were the special guests, Hallie Ephron and William Kent Krueger. Hallie gave the keynote talk at Saturday’s lunch, during which she provided a list of her top ten pieces of advice for writers. Since number one was “take notes,” I did as directed, and am therefore able to pass the advice along to you. (I may have gotten some of this wrong, however, as she spoke quickly and I do not know shorthand. Sorry, Hallie, if I did!)

Hallie gives a workshop about characters driving plot

1) Take notes. Hallie recounted the story of how, when her famous screenwriter mother was dying at age 57 of cirrhosis of the liver brought on by alcoholism, the mother’s equally famous daughter, Nora (Hallie’s older sister), was by her beside. “You’re a writer,” the mom said to Nora. “Take notes.”

2) Make your own space for writing. This is both physical—a place where you can be alone to write—but also in your head. Don’t be distracted by Facebook, email, etc. If you use a timer and write solidly, without interruption, for only 40 minutes a day, you’ll have a book in six months.

3) Pay attention to things that interest you. Hallie used the example of the scene in the Hitchcock film, Suspicion, where Cary Grant carries the glass of milk upstairs to Jane Fontaine, and how the shadows grow sinister and the milk seems to glow in the glass. (Hitchcock put a light in the glass, Hallie informed us, to obtain this effect.) Take note of the little things—like Hitchcock did with a simple glass of milk—and how they can be used to great effect in your writing.

4) Be your own cheerleader. Hallie has posted over her desk a fortune cookie she once got, saying “You will succeed in a far our convention.”

5) Read. Only by reading others’ works will you know what good writing sounds like.

6) Hold your nose and write. Even when you don’t want to, force yourself to keep going. “Gallop in the direction of more; inch towards better,” she said. (This may be someone else’s quote, but I couldn’t find it anywhere online.) As noted by Hallie’s sister, Nora, “The hardest thing about writing is writing.”

7) Slash and burn. Delete anything that’s boring. Beware of too much backstory and coincidences (never have more than one in a story). But when you do cut, save it in a separate file, as it may be perfect for a later work!

8) Prepare for rejection. When you send out queries, have the next five ready to go. Aim high—don’t take a bad deal just because you’re afraid of not getting another.

9) Embrace your flaws. Recognize your strengths and weaknesses as a writer. Always be flexible and listen. Don’t be thin-skinned. And, most importantly, realize that only a fool would write a novel.

10) Don’t wait to be published to celebrate. Celebrate after you write your first ten thousand words. And after you finish your novel. And after you do your revisions. And when someone in your writing group laughs during your reading. And when you get asked for a partial submission. And when you get a personalized rejection.

And finally, she said (yes, this one did go to 11): Get used to it. Make it the journey that counts.

After giving us her top ten (plus one) pieces of advice, Hallie told us about being asked, “What made you decide to write mysteries?”

“Because my sisters hadn’t written one,” was her immediate response.

But then she provided the real answer (though I’m guessing the facetious one had more than a grain of truth to it): Genre fiction is less scary than “literature,” because there are rules and reader expectations, such as the three-act structure, the big confrontation at the end, etc. But just as with highbrow literature, you can include all the personal, gut-wrenching issues in mysteries, as well.

William Kent Krueger was our keynote speaker the next day.

Kent (as he’s known) at his workshop

Because I didn’t take notes during his keynote speech, however, here’s a brief recap, instead, of his excellent workshop on how to build suspense:

1) Classic suspense depends on conflict, either between the characters or within the protagonist. Every scene in your novel should have some tension or conflict. Conflict equals visceral suspense.

2) You must have a good hook, right from the start, to pull the reader in.

3) Readers must care about, have an emotional investment in the characters

4) Delay gratification in readers by not meeting their expectations. Suspense is about what will happen next. Ask the question, but then delay the answer. The longer you draw out time, the tauter the suspense.

5) Create obstacles for your protagonist. Insert complications into the story. Isolating the hero is a great way of doing this.

6) Up the ante. Just when your readers think they know what’s going on, make it worse—far worse.

7) Set the clock ticking. Give your protagonist a limited time to save the day.

8) Stretch time. Slow the countdown to the danger (this is similar to no. 4.) Some of the best suspense writing takes several pages to tell what happened in just a few seconds. Kent gave the example of a bomb under a table of poker players. Having the bomb go off with no notice to the reader creates no suspense. But if you show the bomb with 10 seconds left, then go to the players, then go back to the bomb with 5 seconds left, etc., that’s suspenseful.

9) Save the worst for last. All hope is lost. The dramatic climax of the story. (But note that, in a series, it doesn’t work to put your protagonist in danger, because we all know he/she will return for the next book. It’s far better to put someone the hero cares about in danger.)

10) The calm at the storm’s end. Have a last scene where loose ends are tied up, we get to exhale in relief after all the tension that’s come before.

Here’s the whiteboard chart Kent wrote out for us:

If any of you crime writers out there are considering attending a craft conference in the future, the next CCWC will be held in June of 2019, and I heartily recommend that you attend!

The Wizard of Oz, Alphabetized--Yes, Really

I just discovered something truly amazing. It’s a remix/scrambling of the classic 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz, so that every single word of dialogue and song is arranged alphabetically. Yes, it sounds weird, and it is. But it’s also incredibly wonderful (one of the re-occurring words in the film). And beautiful. And utterly fascinating.

The project (entitled of Oz The Wizard—the title, alphabetized) was the brainchild and creation of Matt Bucy, probably best known as co-producer and cinematographer of the fan fiction series, Star Trek Continues. (You can read about Matt and his Oz project, as well as watch the amazing film,

The other night, Robin, my sister Laura (who told us about the project), and I sat down after dinner to view the movie, thinking we’d check it out for ten or fifteen minutes, be somewhat amused, and then switch to Mozart in the Jungle. But no. We were mesmerized and ended up watching until the very end. (Oddly, we all thought the movie seemed shorter in this rearranged version, even though they are, of course, the exact same length.)

The most obvious effect of the alphabetization is to highlight the specific words used in the screenplay and lyrics. And, not surprisingly, the first one to appear—“a”—appears a whole lot. As do “the,” “you,” “of,” and any number of pronouns, articles, and prepositions. But these also flash by quickly, as they are throwaway words in the dialogue. It’s the other words, which the actors draw out and give emphasis to, that are more interesting.

As a writer, I was fascinated by the way this project showcases language and syntax—for instance, the frequency of certain words is made obvious by their being grouped together. Take the word “just.” Now, we writers are continually told to limit our use of this word, but as I watched of Oz The Wizard, it became clear that “just” occurs many, many times in the film. Yet it’s never jumped out at me when watching the movie in its original format. This is because that’s the way folks speak; we use the word all the time. So maybe it is okay not to get too stressed about using “just” in my own books (especially in dialogue).

In addition, certain colorful words that appear only once—generally spoken by either the Wizard or the Cowardly Lion—stand out ever so much more in this version of the film, isolated as they are, and made the three of us howl with glee. (The last word of the film, uttered by the Lion, was especially fun. But I won’t give it away here, other than to tell you it begins with a Z.)

And then there are the repeated words from the songs: “somewhere,” “wizard,” “Oz,” “follow,” “yellow,” “road,” “dead,” you get the idea. When spliced so they appear all together in quick succession, they end up creating their own new little songs, which are wonderfully melodic. (The “dead” song was particularly chipper, which we found amusing.)

Oh, and the way the editor, Bucy, groups the sounds (arf!, ahhh, sigh, ai!) is good fun, as well. (I love, love, the Toto scenes all strung together.)

In addition, watching the film cut up in this strange, new way, I found myself drawn to artistic and technical aspects of the film I’d never really noticed before: the beautifully rendered woods in the background during the snow scene; the shape and color of the walls and towers surrounding the City of Oz.

Finally, because you are seeing each different word chronologically each time it appears in the film, you are, in effect, watching mini versions of the entire story over and over again, especially with words that occur many times. Yet each mini version gives a slightly different narrative—kind of like a G-rated Rashomon in Technicolor.

I don’t believe this concept would have worked with any other movie. The Wizard of Oz is so ingrained in our collective consciousness that most Americans (of a certain age, at least) have the script virtually memorized. So, for example, when the frame of the Tin Man saying “heart” flashes by, we know immediately where it belongs in the whole and why it’s important.

It’s funny, but watching of Oz The Wizard in a way gave deeper meaning to the original film. By providing an entirely new way of seeing it, the project made me think about the movie in an entirely new way. But I guess that’s what good art is all about.

So thank you Matt Bucy, for this truly original and mind-opening project!

Cover Reveal—A Measure of Murder

I’ve had to keep this under my toque for the past month, but am now finally at liberty to reveal the cover for the second in my Sally Solari Mystery series, entitled A Measure of Murder:

Here’s a taste of the new book:

Sally Solari is busy juggling work at her family’s Italian restaurant, Solari’s, and helping Javier plan the autumn menu for the restaurant she’s just inherited, Gauguin. Complicating this already hectic schedule, Sally joins her ex-boyfriend Eric’s chorus, which is performing a newly discovered version of her favorite composition, the Mozart Requiem. But then, at the first rehearsal, a tenor falls to his death on the church courtyard—and his soprano girlfriend is sure it wasn’t an accident.

Now Sally's back on another murder case mixed in with a dash of revenge, a pinch of peril, and a suspicious stack of sheet music. And while tensions in the chorus heat up, so does the kitchen at Gauguin—set aflame right as Sally starts getting too close to the truth. Can Sally catch the killer before she’s burnt to a crisp, or will the case grow as cold as yesterday’s leftovers?

In a stew of suspects and restaurateurs, trouble boils over in the second in Leslie Karst’s tasty and tantalizing Sally Solari mystery series, A Measure of Murder.

A Measure of Murder is scheduled for release February 14, 2017, and yes, it’s already available for pre-order on Amazon!

The Official Release of DYING FOR A TASTE!

It has finally arrived—the day my very first published book is being released! (Okay, so it was actually yesterday. But in my defense, I was on the road, driving from LA to Santa Cruz, with several stops along the way, and didn’t get home till 6:00 p.m. Which of course is well past cocktail hour, so this post just had to wait until today.)

Dying for a Taste,

release date April 12, 2016

Crime in the Desert

Left Coast Crime—a mystery fan convention held annually in Western North America—took place last week in Phoenix, Arizona, and I was fortunate enough to be able to attend. It was going to be my first fan convention since having a published book, and I had been placed on one of the author panels—also a first. Not only that, but I would be meeting my editor and publicist there for the very first time. Not surprisingly, then, as I sat on the plane from Hawai‘i to Arizona I experienced a combination of excitement and anxiousness akin to that of a kindergartener on her first day of school.

The sudden transition from Hilo (the rainiest city in the U.S., with a humidity level to match) to Phoenix (located in the arid, sunbaked Sonoran desert) was intense, and almost immediately upon landing I could feel my lips becoming chapped and my skin parched. But I didn’t care—I was at LCC!

Galleys and ARCs and Blurbs—Oh My!

Last week I received what in the olden days of letterpress printing would have been called the “galley proofs” of my mystery novel—the book typeset, or rather, digitally formatted to look like typesetting. Nowadays it’s called the “advance copy,” and my editor informed me that this would be my last chance to make corrections to the text.

I’ve gotta say it was a thrilling feeling to open the document and see my manuscript—which has taken four years of writing, editing, honing, and further tinkering—finally looking like a real live book.

Title Page of Advance Copy

And it was interesting how, in this new format, typos, repeated words, and other problems with the text suddenly popped out at me from the page. I’ve now finished my final edits, and the content is thus finally out of my hands.

Dying For a Taste: Cover Reveal!

It’s here, the moment you’ve all been waiting for (okay, maybe not all of you, but I’ve been waiting anxiously for it). The cover art for my forthcoming mystery novel, Dying For a Taste, is now complete:

Pictured is the restaurant owned by my protagonist Sally Solari’s family, which is located on the Santa Cruz Wharf, and you can see the Giant Dipper roller coaster in the distance. (Yes, for you Santa Cruzians, it’s true that the Boardwalk is not technically in that position relative to the Wharf, but that’s what you call artistic license.)

Being an avid cyclist, I’m thrilled there’s a bike on the cover (Sally rides a Specialized Robaix in the story), and I’ve also gotta say it’s pretty darn exciting—and weird—seeing my name splashed across the cover of a real live book.

So, many thanks to all the supportive folks at Crooked Lane Books for the terrific concept and art!

Dying For a Taste, which is currently in the copy-edit stage, will be released by Crooked Lane Books in the spring of 2016.

Criminal Intent in Culver City

Last weekend I attended the California Crime Writers Conference, a biennial event put on by Sisters in Crime Los Angeles and the SoCal Mystery Writers of America. (See here for my blog about the 2013 CCWC in Pasadena.)

Pinch Me, Am I Dreaming?

Today—after years of writing; rewriting and revising; querying literary agents; and then more revising once I found the agent of my dreams—I signed a publishing contract. It’s a two-book deal with Crooked Lane Books, a brand new crime fiction imprint out of New York City.

Yes, I am thrilled to death—an apt euphemism for a mystery writer, no? But I’m still having a hard time believing it’s all real.

Crooked Lane Books was started last year with former Minotaur/St. Martin’s Press editor Matthew Martz as editorial director and former St. Martin’s publisher-at-large Dan Weiss as chief publishing consultant. Nike Power, who has interned at St. Martin’s, as well as Knopf/Doubleday and Lippincott Massie McQuilkin, is my new editor at CLB.

As noted on their website, Crooked Lane Books is

a crime fiction imprint that publishes today’s most gripping mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels. From high-concept thrillers and white-knuckled suspense to traditional mysteries and literary crime, our titles consistently deliver driving plots, engaging characters, and stunning twists from the most talented authors on the scene.

Their initial list of titles will be released starting this coming August, and my book, Dying For a Taste (previously known as A Matter of Taste), the first of my Five Senses mystery series, is set to be published in the spring of 2016 and its sequel the following year.

I’ve already been working with my new editor (!), Nike, and I think we are going to get along swimmingly as a team. Her ideas for tweaks/additions/revisions have been terrific and she is wonderfully enthusiastic about my manuscript.

So here’s a huge thank you to everyone who has helped me reach this point, especially to my agent at Folio Literary, Erin Niumata, who truly believed in me and got me the deal!

Check here for updates as I navigate my way through the revisions, design, printing, and publishing of my very first novel!

Does This Make Me an “Author”?

To celebrate having acquired representation for my mystery novel, A Matter of Taste, Robin and I went to dinner a few weeks ago at our favorite neighborhood restaurant, Avanti. Over an apéritif of sparking rosé, Robin confessed something to me:

“I know I’m the one who’s been telling you all along to skip the whole agent thing and just self-publish,” she said. “But now that you’ve gotten one, I’ve gotta say it does change how I think about you and your book. All of a sudden it’s like you’re a ‘real author’ now.”

real authors on my bookshelf

This had been an point of contention between us. When I’d bemoan the frustration and disappointment that went along with the search for a literary agent, Robin would ask why I even needed one, when I could simply publish the book on my own and omit the middleman altogether.

It Only Takes One Yes

Something wonderful happened this week: After more than three years of editing and revising my mystery manuscript, A Matter of Taste, after sending out over a hundred query letters to potential agents, I have now entered into a representation agreement with a literary agent: Erin Niumata of Folio Literary Management, in New York City.

I am beyond thrilled. Not just to have acquired representation, but because I think Erin is going to be terrific. She seems to really get me, and my book—the voice and style, the characters, the themes. And, from the few comments she’s already provided, I can tell her editorial skills are going to be invaluable (she spent many years as an editor for various major publishing houses before becoming an agent).

Her call came early last week, and I was so flustered that I’m sure I sounded like a complete moron—or perhaps simply like a newbie author thrilled to finally get 

The Phone Call.

how I feel right about now

(okay, so this was taken when

the SF Giants won the pennant in 2010)

[photo: Laura Karst]

I wanted to say YES! right then and there, but I had several other “fulls” (the complete manuscript) currently out to other agents. Politeness and protocol therefore required that I give them a heads up, and let them have several days to consider whether they too might want to make an offer of representation.

Eating Up Mystery (Guest Blog by Vinnie Hansen)

Today I’m happy to present this guest blog penned by Vinnie Hansen, whom I met last March at the Left Coast Crime mystery writing conference, “Calamari Crime.” We hit it off immediately—not just because Vinnie lives in Santa Cruz, but also because she possesses that combination of warm and witty that I so enjoy. Here's her blog post:

On another blog, which shall remain nameless, they had a discussion of mysteries without food! You may as well have food without mystery—no secret ingredients, no surprising bursts of flavor, no heat that creeps up from the back of the throat.

To me, food and mystery go hand in hand, literally and figuratively.

Vinnie enjoying a good read and a hot beverage

I recently read Cindy Sample’s Dying for a Daiquiri (set on the Big Island) and enjoyed the food references, from the informational description of an imu pit for kalua pig to the amusing riffs on Donkey Ball snacks.

Calamari Crime, and a Sue Grafton Interview

I attended Left Coast Crime last week, a writers and readers conference held annually at different locations in the Western United States. This year’s venue was Monterey, California—famous for its squid catch—so the conference was dubbed “Calamari Crime.”

The event consisted primarily of panel discussions among authors discussing their own books, the craft of writing, marketing and publicity, trends in mysteries, what agents look for in a manuscript, and various other issues of import to readers and writers.

A Thin Plot Can Be Thickened

I’m happy to announce that I am writing again. Okay, so it’s not “writing,” writing. But I am finally back to working on my current manuscript, which was derailed some months back when I realized I was running in place, going nowhere, and the book was getting downright boring.

The fiction-writing community likes to talk about two camps of writers: outliners and pantsers (i.e., seat-of-the-pants types). I definitely have the personality of an outliner. I’m someone who makes endless lists, plans trips months ahead, and knows what I’m going to make for dinner three days hence.

an example of my organizational tendencies

But when I sat down to write my current book, Such a Smell of Sulfur (the sequel to my first m.s., A Matter of Taste), I was so eager to get going that I started writing before I had a clear plot-line in my head. Sure, I knew “who dunnit,” and why, and even had a list of suspects and red herrings. But the story arc was still a jumble. In other words, I was pantsing it. Bad idea.

A Guest Post about Wagner and Tolkien

Yes, I have been remiss in posting for the past few months. But I have a good excuse. My folks moved into an assisted care facility this summer, and what with moving them and their stuff, and then dealing with 50 years of accumulated stuff in the family home, well, let's just say I've been pretty busy and have not had time for such fun tasks as keeping up my blog.

But I have written another post for Robin's Wagner Tripping blog. Since I've been a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien since the age of six, I offered to write about Wagner's influence on Tolkien. You can read it here.

Here's hoping I can get back to more custardy and clue-like posts in the near future. In the meantime, as goes the popular button from the 1960s, Frodo lives!

Wagner and Joyce, part 2

For part two of my guest blog about Wagner's influence on James Joyce, click here. In it, I discuss the Wagnerian themes and references in Joyce's work. There are some pretty pictures too.

A Guest Blog on RIchard Wagner and James Joyce

My partner Robin, in honor of the bicentennial of the birth of her favorite composer, Richard Wagner, is doing a year-long blog, Wagner Tripping, about him.

Robin asked me to contribute two posts about Wagner’s influence on James Joyce, since I’m a great fan of the Irish writer, and am part of a Finnegans Wake reading group that meets twice-monthly at a local Irish pub to sip Guinness and ponder Joyce’s encyclopedic romp through the history of everything.

Reading the Wake, it becomes clear from the very first page (“Sir Tristram, violer d’amores, fr’over the short sea”) that Joyce draws heavily from Wagner in the work. But what I didn’t realize—until Robin started telling me about it, and then I subsequently did the research for this post—what just how much of an influence Wagner had on so much of Joyce’s writing.

You can read the first of my two posts here. 

Crime May Not Pay, But You Meet The Nicest People!

One of my favorite aspects of writing mysteries is that I can be in complete control of the process, from beginning to end. Such independence was not possible when I was a songwriter back in the 1980s and ’90s. Although I could pen the lyrics and compose a melody line and chords to go along with them, the song was never “complete” until I got the band together and we worked out a full-fleshed arrangement. And unlike with fiction writing, a song doesn’t really exist until performed or recorded, which also (at least for me) requires the assistance of others.

But as with many things in life, there’s a downside to the independence inherent in fiction-writing: It can be a lonely calling. And discouraging, too, when those rejection letters start pouring in.

Luckily, there’s an antidote for us—it’s called a writers conference. I attended my first one last weekend, the California Crime Writers Conference, in my mom’s hometown, Pasadena.

Tournament of Roses poster in the hotel hallway

The main reason I signed up for the conference was to attend the classes. And, for the most part, they were terrific: lectures on how to bring your characters to life, crime scene investigation, and page-turning techniques; panel discussions on outlining vs. seat-of-the-pantsing, marketing, and the role of agents and editors.

A Matter of Taste

No, this isn’t about my mystery novel. Well, okay, maybe it is, a little. I’m currently working on the second in a planned series of mysteries involving the five senses. Taste is the sense in the first book (A Matter of Taste), and smell in the second (Such a Smell of Sulfur).

I’ve often thought about the importance of the five senses to us human beings, and occasionally play the “which sense would I give up if I had to?” game with myself. My decision is always the same: it would be taste that I’d forgo.

What?! I know many of you are thinking. But food and cooking are central to your life, Leslie! True.