A short story for you

Today I take off my self-promotion cap so that I can talk about another's work.

Typically I turn away from literature with the tag chick lit. Why, I guess because I'm not a chick and dudes don't read chick lit. Kind of like eating quiche.

But a couple months ago Bethany Hiitola, a member of my writers' group and creator of the Mommy Writer Blog, bravely posted a short story she'd written titled "Postpartum Euphoria" for anyone who wanted to read it.

Call be a sucker but I'll pick up almost anything if it's for free. So I downloaded her story.

I took it to bed with me that same night and read it in one sitting. The next day I composed an e-mail telling her how much I liked her story. But I also pointed out to her a few typos and offered to give it a more thorough edit.

It turns out that Bethany is also one who grabs anything that's offered for free. She took me up on my offer.

So began our relationship by e-mail in which I became Bethany's editor/mentor/coach/cheerleader and she made me feel good by writing these gushing thank-yous in return. This lasted for several weeks and consumed a lot more time than I think either of us foresaw. But, in the end, it, I think, was all worthwhile.

I hope you'll think it was worth the effort, too. Read "Postpartum Euphoria" and find out for yourself. You'll see my name right next to "special thanks" (okay, so I didn't completely take off that self-promotion cap).

It won't cost you a thing. And you might just find, like I did, that sometimes the best things in life are free. 

LOST gets its first thumbs down

"Lost in the Ivy by Randy Richardson is a captivating story, well written and articulate."

So begins Alan Paul Curtis' review of my book on his Who Dunnit Web site.

Reads like a review that any author would dream of. But you know what's coming, don't you? Of course you do, since I tipped you off with the title of this blog entry.

You smell the big BUT coming, right? Here it is: "But it has one glaring fault -- the plot has huge holes in it."

I've said all along that bad reviews would almost certainly come. Book reviewing is, by definition, a subjective business. And everyone's tastes are different. We all don't share the same cup of tea.

Still, I'd been riding a pretty strong wave of approval for my book (see the Home Page for a sampling of the reviews)  before this review caused me to wipe out. Even though you know that when you put yourself out there not everyone's going to like what you do, I must confess that the ego took a couple of lumps when I read Mr. Curtis' review.

I could take the high road and not comment at all on his criticisms but I find that my inner compass just won't let me follow that path.  

First, he's right. The judge who's introduced at the opening is nothing but a big red herring. I suppose I could have avoided that problem and put the courtroom escape scene in the middle of the story, which is where it actually takes place, rather than in a prologue. But I wanted action to start the story, so I put the courtroom escape front and center. In hindsight, I'm not sure if I would have made that same choice today. I fought an internal battle with myself over using a linear versus non-linear plot line and even sought external advice. The votes from others who'd read the story were divided, so I became the tie-breaker. Perhaps I made the wrong choice. You see, I'm still split myself. It's a tough call, as are most choices you make in constructing a novel.

Second, he's only partially correct about flimsy evidence. The fact is, we never learn what evidence the cops have against the protagonist because the case never gets to trial. He flees the courtroom before there's even a bond hearing. Not that flimsy evidence has ever slowed Chicago cops. Heck, men have gone to death row on flimsy evidence. And the reviewer doesn't know much about the criminal courts if he thinks that murder defendants can get out on bail easily. The only murder defendants that can get out on bail are VERY rich ones. The protagonist in my book could barely pay his own rent. How could he possibly raise funds to make bail? I spent years covering the criminal courts and can't remember a single murder case that I covered in which the accused was able to raise bond. Judges, for obvious reasons, are reluctant to just let an accused killer walk out of jail.

The reviewer only alludes to other plot holes in the story. There may very well be some, but I don't think that they amount to a Grand Canyon as a reader might suspect from the way he portrays them.

I could be wrong but what I think the reviewer is getting at is that Lost in the Ivy is not a traditional mystery and the hard-core mystery enthusiasts who are his primary readers may not find it to their tastes. I don't disagree with that. One of the problems I had selling the manuscript was that it didn't "fit" what most publishers are looking for. But it's the story I wanted to tell and I don't think I'd change it -- except for the possibility of changing it to a linear plot. See, I'm still having that inner battle with myself.

Of course you can always put a positive spin on a bad review. You see it done all the time in movie ads. Like when a critic writes that "Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo" is a perfect example of all that can go wrong with a movie and his sentence is pared down to one word in the ad: "Perfect".

Likewise I can just pretend that Mr. Curtis' review didn't go past that first sentence.

Fiction: A Hard Sell

I took the bait.

There it was, taunting me. Right next to Amazon.com Sales Rank: #404,829 in Books for my book was this: (See Top Sellers in Books). Is this something new that Amazon's doing? I'd never noticed it there before. 

Can't say that I like it being there. Do those books on the list really need MORE sales? No, of course not. And it seems a bit offensive, as if Amazon is subliminally (or maybe not so subliminally) suggesting to its customers, "Why buy a book ranked #404,829, when you can buy one of these Top Sellers?" 

What's most troubling, though, are the books on that Top Sellers list.

Of the top 25, how many would you guess are fiction? Half maybe? One-third? You'd be wrong.

Only 3 of the top 25 are fiction. And the top selling fiction on the list was written by an author who's been dead for 42 years. Can you guess what book that is? It's "The Chronicles of Narnia" by C.S. Lewis, ranked at No. 9.

If you think hard enough, you should be able to guess the other two fiction titles on the list. Okay, time's up. The answers are "The Da Vinci Code" (No. 13) and "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" (No. 25).

What else is troubling about the list? Well, two of the non-fiction titles (ranked Nos. 2 and 7) probably should be considered fiction, since the author of these books, "A Million Little Pieces" and "My Friend Leonard", James Frey, is, apparently, lying about those little pieces of his life, if The Smoking Gun is correct.

All of which makes being a true fiction writer more than just a little bit depressing.

My Author Fantasies

Being a fiction writer, I’ve got a rather vivid fantasy life. For your own good, I’ll spare you a full accounting of my fantasies.

Instead, I’m going to divulge to you some of my author fantasies.

1. Phone rings. I pick it up. On the other end is a movie producer. He/She says “I’d like to make a movie based on your book, LOST IN THE IVY.”
2. John Cusack chosen to star in the film version of LOST IN THE IVY.
3. Winona Ryder circa 1988 chosen to costar in the film version of LOST IN THE IVY.
4. Phone rings. I pick it up. On the other end is the promotional director for the Chicago Cubs. He/She says “We’d like you to come up to the WGN-TV booth and sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” during Game 7 of the 2006 World Series at Wrigley Field.
5. LOST IN THE IVY hits the New York Times best-seller list.
6. LOST IN THE IVY hits No. 1 on the New York Times best-seller list.
7. Phone rings. I pick it up. On the other end is the producer of Oprah. He/She says “Oprah has chosen your book for her book-of-the-month club and would like you to be a guest on her show.”
8. Phone rings. I pick it up. On the other end is author Scott Turow. He says “I loved your book. I’d be happy to blurb it for you.”
9. I’m riding Chicago’s “L” train and see Scott Turow sitting in the same car, reading LOST IN THE IVY.
10. I’m riding Chicago’s “L” train and I see anyone sitting in the same car, reading LOST IN THE IVY.

The chances that any of the above will ever happen are slim to none. Number 10 on the list would seem to be the one within the realm of possibility (i.e., chances of it happening are slightly better than the odds of striking it rich by playing the lottery) and it is the one that I think most about. What would I say? What would I do? Here are some possibilities:

1. Do nothing.
2. Ask the person what they’re reading and if they like it.
3. Tell the person “You’re reading my book.”
4. Ask the person to look at the author photo on the back.
5. Ask the person if he/she would like to have the author sign the book he/she is reading.

Those are some of my thoughts. I’m not sure what I’d actually do if I ever was in that situation. I welcome any thoughts from readers of this blog. What do you think I should say or do in such a situation?

This fantasy is also followed by one of my worst author nightmares. Let’s say I do No. 2, ask the person if they like the book, and the reaction is less than enthusiastic. Something like “It’s okay” or “I’ve read better” or “It’s the worst piece of crap I’ve ever read.” In that situation I know what I’d do. I’d nod and slink away.

Almost Famous

You can rack your brain all weekend waiting for inspiration to come to you.

Or you can just sit down at your desk Monday morning and find that it was there all along. Right before your eyes.

In this case the inspiration was on a business card that had been sitting on my desk since Saturday.

On Saturday morning, I'd done a book-signing event with fellow mystery writer John Knoerle at The Book Stall at Chestnut Court in Winnetka, Illinois.
"Lost" in a bookstore  window display

Before he left, Knoerle handed me his business card, which I stuffed into my pants pocket. Upon returning to my ordinary life at home, I made sure to put Knoerle's business card on my desk so that I wouldn't forget to send him the pictures that I'd promised I'd send, something I've still yet to do (reminder to self: fulfill promise to send pictures).

At first glance, Knoerle's business card looks like a standard author's business card. There's his name, e-mail address, phone number and the cover art for his latest book, The Violin Player, a Chicago-based mystery that sounds like it would strike a sweet note for a genealogical buff like myself (reminder to self: order The Violin Player).

All weekend that business card sat on my desk. Occasionally I'd see it when I'd check e-mail but I never really looked at it.

Then this morning I saw something on the business card that I hadn't noticed before. This is what I saw:

John Knoerle

famous author

In my mind, I also saw Knoerle giving a knowing wink.

I'm sure, like me, he's had friends or family tell him, "Oh, now I can say I know a famous author."   

Not just an author. A famous one.

To be an author, you have to be a bit bold, I suppose. You are, after all, putting your words out in the public domain for all to see. Not everyone possesses enough confidence in their words to do such a thing.

To be a famous one, you just have to have a sense of humor about what you do. 

There's little doubt that Knoerle possesses a good sense of humor. If you read his bio, you learn that he began his creative endeavors as a member of the DeLuxe Radio Theatre, an early 70’s comedy troupe in Santa Barbara. He moved to LA and worked as stand up comic, opening for the likes of Jay Leno and Robin Williams at The Improv and The Comedy Store.

One of the great things about this weekend job of mine is that you get the opportunity to meet some of the most intriguing people imaginable. Like Knoerle.

One of the worst things about it is that you get paired to do your first public reading next to someone who not only has a comedy background but has a theatrical voice that rivals that of Kelsey Grammer. Like Knoerle.

Famous authors John Knoerle and Randy Richardson

Fortunately I don't think I embarrassed myself too badly. Although when I view the pictures, taken by my dear wife, I cringe when I see Knoerle's eyes shaking hands with the audience while mine hide under my striped blue-shirt.

Still, it was a good experience. Not only did I meet a famous author (see, it says so right here, on his business card) but I sold a few books, got to meet the wonderful people who work at The Book Stall (a true North Shore treasure), and even got a little bit of press coverage, which you'll likely be reading about here on this blog on Wednesday. 

Best of all, a friend that I hadn't seen in fifteen years came, albeit too late to witness my awe-inspiring reading debut (see, it was awe-inspiring, it says so right on his blog). On this blog you frequently see her name as the commenter, Marybeth. Way back when I was an undergraduate we exchanged notes back and forth between our library carrels. Anything to keep us from doing what we were supposed to be doing in the library: studying.

I still have all those notes with the Marybeth postage stamps drawn on them. They were in some ways the beginning of my writing career.   

A fringe benefit of writing a book -- one that I hadn't seen coming -- is its ability to draw people back into your life that you may have thought lost forever. It is perhaps the greatest reward I could have gotten from my words.

They all tease that they knew me before I became "the famous author." Sometimes that's all it takes to make you feel famous. Even when you're not.