Archive for November, 2007

30 Nov

Booking Through Thursday: Rolling

I wasn’t going to answer this week’s Booking Through Thursday question. I have so much other stuff to bring you guys, and the past two days have been crazy busy with running nonstop that I didn’t want to give a pithy one-word answer.

Here’s the question:

Do you get on a roll when you read, so that one book leads to the next, which leads to the next, and so on and so on?

I don’t so much mean something like reading a series from beginning to end, but, say, a string of books that all take place in Paris. Or that have anthropologists as the main character. Or were written in the same year. Something like that… Something that strings them together in your head, and yet, otherwise could be different genres, different authors…

Really. I wasn’t inspired.

But then I came across the answer given by my friend Karen! and I knew I had my reply. Karen reads more than I do; she read 200 books in 2006. (By contrast, I *only* read 144.)

Her comment was that when she reads a lot of one particular kind of book, everything tends to run together in her head.

And you know what? I have to agree. It happens to me, too. And it’s sad.

As writers, we all want our works to stand out in our reader’s brains. We want our readers to tell their friends to read OUR books. Comparisons to other authors are flattering, absolutely. But when you confuse something we slaved over for something that someone else slaved over… well, that means we’re not doing our jobs as well as we should be.

And that we readers aren’t doing our jobs as well as we should be, either. No matter how many books of one genre we want to devour, we owe it to ourselves and to the authors to switch things up. Cleanse the palate, as it were.

So instead of rolling with an author, a series, a genre, take a break. Eat some lemon sorbet or crystallized ginger. Cleanse that palate and then return to what you’re hooked on.

I bet whatever it is that’s caught you on fire will be that much better for it.

And who knows. Maybe you’ll find something else that sets you on the same sort of fire.

Happy reading!

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28 Nov

Thursday Thirteen #56 — Trevor? Bored?

It’s been a hectic Wednesday in Chez Susan. That has me longing for some quiet, unassigned moments. Trevor thought he’d pipe up and share some suggestions with me.

Thirteen Ways in Which Trevor Whiles Away the Time

Thanks to Casa Sosegad for the awesome header!

1. in strip joints like Moon Shadows

2. reading catalogs from Lyric’s competitors and deciding what to bug her into ordering for him

3. practicing with Daniel. It’s easier without Mitchell’s fancy-assed rhythms and attitude.

4. getting stoned, usually with Eric. It’s one of the few times they get along.

5. picking his nose — or so he says, but the pasttime is probably more along the lines of irritating others.

6. tinkering with his Vincent.

7. picking on Mitchell.

8. eating: at Harry’s Hoagies, Roach’s, or conning Val or Sonya Voss into cooking for him.

9. checking out girls and picking them up and bring them to … their homes (for quicker getaways)

10. dreaming of how big ShapeShifter will be

11. crusing town on his Vincent, looking for trouble.

12. Check out the competition playing around town

13. When all else fails, take a nap.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!


Uhh, I think I’ll only take him up on that last one, although heaven knows I’m itching to hear some live music.

As always, to learn more about a character, click on their name when it’s orange and you’ll be zipped to a cool bio page with links to other outtakes. Or scroll on down for this week’s offerings: Beached Whales and Letter G. Happy reading and may all our days quiet down a bit.

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27 Nov

Fiction Outtake: Letter G (the early days)

“R,” Trevor said.

Mitchell looked up from his guitar. “The fuck?”

“R.”

Mitchell growled.

Trevor gave an exaggerated sigh. “The prompt this week at that Writer’s Island place Susan likes to hang out on. It’s,” he took a deep breath and waved his fingers near his face. “The Letter,” he said in a voice that was supposed to be spooky.

“Oh,” Mitchell said. He looked down again, then gave Trevor one of those looks that would have been through his bangs if the guy was dumb enough to have any. “I like G,” he said, and strummed the chord.

Trevor considered. Gs were good. G marked the spot. G wasn’t a grade. Yeah, there was lots to like about G. And it wasn’t like he was attached to R in any way, shape, form, or sound. In fact, R was usually Mitchell’s sound. The one he made when he growled.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “G’s good.”

Mitchell smirked and Trevor realized what he’d said. Good. It fucking started with … G. So did almost every other phrase Trevor could think of. Go figure. Goddamn. Geez. Girl. Give me. Guitars.

Trevor turned his back on Mitchell and reached for a cigarette. Count on the asshole there to come up with a better letter than he could. Maybe that’s what made them such a … successful team. M took Trevor’s ideas and ran with them.

Trevor tried to tell himself that meant his ideas didn’t suck.

Gigantically.

Yep, a bonus excerpt this week! What can I say, I was inspired. In fact, I wrote a few more outtakes over the weekend and now my file of stuff for this here blog is about to burst. Stay tuned for all of it…

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25 Nov

ShapeShifter Fiction: Beached Whales (post Trevor’s Song Era)

Kerri set down the dishtowel she was using to dry Val’s good china with, handed the last plate over, and walked into the family room. Daniel and Mitchell were being awfully quiet for two men who’d been all hyped about the big game.

She walked down the two steps into the sunken room and took in the scene.

The boys lay head-to-head on the L-shaped sectional. Mitchell had one leg thrown over the back of the couch; Daniel had one foot on the floor. Both men had extended their other leg, Daniel’s foot dangling off the edge of the beige leather couch.

Kerri chuckled as she noticed that they both hadn’t just unbuttoned their pants after that feast; they’d undone their flies, too.

“Hey, Val?” she drawled.

Mitchell’s head shot up and he slitted his eyes as if shooting poison at her. She smiled; he knew her tone of voice all too well.

“Yeah?” Val asked, wiping her hands on her hot pink dishtowel and crossing the kitchen to join Kerri. She stopped on the stair behind Kerri, one knee bent, the same hip jutted out in a classic model’s pose.

“Where’d you find the beached whales?”

“Wholesale district. Imported from Japan; they were cheap.”

Daniel burped. Mitchell smirked and put his head back down.

Kerri shook her head. “Waste of good veal, if you ask me. Whale stuffing ought to be cheap.”

“Actually, I think it’s the highest praise a chef can get,” Val said, tossing the dishtowel over her shoulder and pulling her hip back in line with the other. “When you can turn two grown men into beached whales, you know your cooking’s good.”

“Or that food on the road is that bad,” Daniel said. “Really, Val, come out and be our caterer.”

She winked at Kerri. As if there was any way to pry Val out of her house. “If I do,” she said, “will you change the name of the band to Beached Whales?”

“We may have to,” Mitchell said and, at last, burped.

The curtains fluttered, and Val and Kerri exchanged amused smiles as they went back to putting the plates away.


Want more? Click on the cast of character tab above. And don’t forget to take a ride on Rhian’s Poetry Train!

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24 Nov

Susan’s Inside Writing: The Seven Things Meme

Lesley tagged me for this. Hmmm.

Here are the rules:

Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs. Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Yeah, okay. Maybe.

1. I’ve been hearing an increased clamor for more about the woman behind all the fiction on this blog. Are you for real?

2. I mean, do you care that my idea of a glass of water is to fill the sucker up with ice and pour water into the cracks?

3. Yawn. The very thought makes me need a nap.

4. I’m a shoes-off kind of girl. This is reflected in my writing, as Mitchell, Kerri, and Chelle all hate to wear shoes. (Although the shoes are only the tip of Mitchell’s iceberg… so to speak.) As I develop more characters, I’m sure you’ll see more and more of them with the same issue.

5. A lot of you have asked how I can create such vivid characters. The truth is that I have no life. It’s all about the fiction. Everything I see, I try to translate over to my fictional world. This is because, as I keep insisting, I’m boring as anything. My fictional world isn’t.

6. Besides, translating it all into fiction keeps things properly hidden away from view. Like my kids. After the stalking incident where I wasn’t even the victim but still got a phone call warning me to be careful, I’d just as soon keep most parts of my life private. That was close enough, thank you. And yes, I know that’s the risk when you put yourself out there. Still, putting yourself out there doesn’t mean exposing people you love to danger.

7. From the time I was six, my dream was to be a best-selling author. I got laughed at in grad school for this ambition, and I didn’t care. But lately… the vision has changed. I’d rather be a small industry, with books and a vibrant blog and t-shirts and other merchandise. Yep, all centered around my fiction. I wish people would pop out of the woodwork and volunteer to help and make some of the hard choices I face that much easier, but clearly, my idealistic view of how the world ought to work is best saved for my fiction. Which is why I’d rather bring that to you.

See? You’re really better off knowing me through my fiction. There’s more of me in there than I think you realize you’re seeing, and given that real life and fiction are so closely entwined for me, if you’re clever you can find the real-life inspirations. Or just wait for me to at last publish the outtakes; each one has an intro that explains a bit of it, including inspirations.

I know I’m supposed to tag someone, but… that’s even less fun than talking about myself. If you do it, I’d love a link back and a note so I know to come check it out.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go write some fiction…

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21 Nov

Thursday Thirteen #55 — Thanks for the Disaster!

Let’s face it. Part of what makes Thanksgiving so much fun is seeing what sort of memories you’ll leave the table with. Our friends in Riverview (and music reporter Chelle LaFleur) have had some memorable meals.

Thanks for the Diasaster!
1. There was the year when Mitchell and Trevor were 20 and they stumbled in to dinner, late, Trevor stoned and Mitchell drunk and stoned, and decided that turkey flambe was the main course. Sonya, who was about to put the cooked bird on the table when this happened, wasn’t amused.

2. The first year that Chelle was living alone, she decided that the best way to celebrate her independence was to make Thanksgiving herself. Not sure how to cook, let alone roast a turkey, she microwaved it. For an hour. What she was left with resembled the shrunken heads she’d seen her elderly relatives use for voodoo ceremonies. Those creepy elderly relatives were all too glad to see her when she showed up for dinner.

3. One year, Pam accepted the invitation of some vegetarian friends for a Tofurkey dinner. She made sure they served fish the next time she ate with them.

4. Inspired by Mitchell and Trevor’s lame attempt at flame, Val decided to try it herself. The apricot brandy glaze was a success. The flambe wasn’t. The bananas foster that was an alternative to the pumpkin pie was.

5. When he was a teenager, Eric and his brothers had a pumpkin pie eating contest. Problem was, their mother had baked the pies for a church dinner. They learned fast how to bake a good pumpkin pie.

6. Amy called it a disaster the year Mitchell was allowed to carve the bird for the first time. Until he did, Amy had visions of herself becoming a surgeon. After Mitchell sliced that baby perfectly, she knew surgery wasn’t going to be her thing.

7. Eric’s family is still traumatized from the year the TV broke and the football game was tied, with two minutes left and the home team set to score. The ball was intercepted, the visitors won the game — and Eric’s family missed it.

8. The year Patterson was called away from the table for work. He didn’t come home until after the kids were in bed.

9. The year Eric’s dad decided to invite the entire congregation to a Turkey Bowl — and broke his leg on the first play. The Turkey Bowl turned into an annual event for about ten years. The broken leg became legend.

10. The year Hank came home in time for dinner, upended the entire contents of dinner into Jenny’s lap, and turned Trevor into a punching bag. Yeah. That’d be a disaster. Trevor couldn’t eat solid food for a few days after that one. This is not the only time Trevor had loose teeth around Thanksgiving, poor guy. (here is the reference to the other time)

11. The second year Chelle tried to cook. Instead of making voodoo turkey breasts, she set the oven on fire. Thankfully, she was quick-witted enough to put it out before it spread and destroyed her apartment — or worse. This was the last time Chelle tried to cook. Anything.

12. Then there was the year the band was on the road. This was before the days of nice hotels. No one was terribly surprised when they came down with food poisoning.

13. Lastly was a disaster only in Val’s eyes. She made a wonderful feast for the band. And I do mean feast. They ate it all, somehow — and ruined her night by having another of their burping fests at the table. The boys, of course, thought it was the best Thanksgiving ever.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

If you’re not sure who Mitchell is, be sure to follow the link in the first mention of his name. That’ll take you to his bio page, and from there, you’ll see a list of outtakes and Thirteens about him.

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20 Nov

Susan’s a Wicked Ass Blogger!

… or so says the reward bestowed upon me by the wonderful and amazing Rhian a few weeks ago.

This means a lot, because Rhian’s a wicked ass blogger herself, among other things. Being part of her tribe is both frustrating and exhilarating, fun and a lot of work. It’s all worth it in the end, though; Trevor couldn’t have found himself a more staunch ally. If you haven’t joined the tribe yet, now’s the perfect time.

Thanks, Rhi! Happy Blogiversary!!

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18 Nov

Roadie Poet: Floor

Afternoon.
I’m on the floor.
Hambone’s snoring in the bed.

Bed.

Did you miss that part?
Looks like I did.
I’m on the floor.
Hungover.
On the floor.

Hambone’s got the bed.

More’s got the other one.

I’ve got the empties from last night’s party.
There’s a lot of ‘em.

Two beds.
Three peeps.
One’s my girl.
Explains why we’re naked.

But not

Why

I’m

On

The

Floor.

Want more Roadie Poet? Click on his name and whoosh, you’ll be visiting his character sketch page, where you can link to more adventures. And for more poetry and other cool self-expression, check out Rhian’s Poetry Train — and join the party!

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17 Nov

Byline Chelle LaFleur: The Heroin Diaries

Now, listen up, folks. Chelle here don’t often step outside her fictional world and into Susan’s, but today, she’s just got to. What Susan saw the other day just burned us both up too much for me to keep quiet. And since we all know that when Chelle talks, people listen, she let me have the floor for this one.

You see, Susan stopped in at the Borders on McKnightmare — she swears that’s the street name but ol’ Chelle’s got her suspicions — to pick up Nikki Sixx’s The Heroin Diaries already. Good thing she got the chance; she’s only been reminding the Tour Manager to go and do it for her the past five weeks or so. Good thing that Tour Manager don’t get paid for his gig, or he’d be out on his hiney.

Back to the book ’cause this is what it’s all about. Mind you, that there book’s been on the Best-seller list since it came out, back in October. You’d think a best-selling book would be near the front of the store, right? On them best-seller racks?

Nope. Susan had to ask for help finding the book. Stuffed away — I gotta say it was face out on the shelf — in the music section.

Now, I ask you. Is that where you’d go look for a book about a drug addict? Hidden away on a shelf, not in plain sight? And what about this so-called soundtrack to the book? Where’s it at?

People, people, people. I don’t care how big a jerk Nikki Sixx might be — I hear he’s not, but even if he was — he deserves better than this. Susan’s not even a hundred pages in and already, she’s over at her own computer, typing away on a post about it. She’s gotta rave. She’s ready to make them kids she calls The Opening Act read it, even though they’re way too young to get more than “Drugs are bad” outta it. This book’s got power. This book oughta be required readin’ in schools ‘cept all them biddies who scared of their shadows would have a fit at the idea that Nikki Sixx is a bigger nudist than my good friend Mitchell Voss. But still, this is beside the point.

This is actually all about the marketin’ of this fine creation. ‘Cause let Chelle tell you, them marketers missed a hell of an opportunity to blow the roof off the way things get done.

First off, how many other books have come out with their own soundtrack? Where’s the push to sell the book and the music together? The music biz is so busy whining about how nobody’s carin’ enough to buy a CD, but here’s a chance to change that. Instead of makin’ someone pay full price for the music while you give ‘em 20% off on the book, how about a package deal? Throw in a coupon for a free t-shirt while you’re at it. But for goodness gracious, you marketin’ wanna-be geniuses, don’t leave it up to rock writers like me to tell you how to do your jobs! You just might wake up and find that you’re outta your job and it’s now mine. Just ’cause I can do it better’n you don’t mean I want it. I like what I do.

And how many studies have we been seein’ lately about how people ain’t buyin’ books no more? I ain’t gonna go through the whole song and dance again, boys and girls. Go read the paragraph before this one. You might need the reminder already. This is where I mention that Nikki’s said he’s giving part of his bucks to charity, too. Hello? Raising money for a good cause? Why aren’t you with me, people?

Here was a chance for y’all to work together. Music and books, just like in Susan’s vision, comin’ together in this whole package where they make each other better even though the one can get along just fine without the other. Best of all, a lot of music people, they don’t read much. Same goes for a lot of book people — they don’t listen to a lot of music. Cross those folk over, show ‘em a new way, people!

Here was a chance for y’all to sit up and smell a new day. And you blew it. Hidin’ a best-seller in the music section. Not offerin’ a package deal on the music and book together.

No wonder book sales are down and Susan and Rob Zombie are the only ones buyin’ CDs anymore. You people in charge, you just don’t get it. This was as plain on the noses on your faces, but God forbid you look in the mirrors.

Marketing people. Is this the sort of garbage they teach you in college? Then Chelle’s damn glad she didn’t waste her time.

Note from Susan: While I fully understand that those front displays are all paid placements and that the issue in my not finding the book was because someone at Pocket Books didn’t pony up the cash, maybe what Chelle and I ought to point out is that, with minimal publicity, this book sits at #16 on the November 18 edition of the New York Times Best-seller list for Non-fiction (see link above), and that this is its fifth week on the list. Maybe it’d still be in the top ten with a bit of help. And to be fair, I didn’t even see Slash’s new autobiography anywhere in the store, which is listed as debuting at #8 on the list. (Because let’s face it, if I’d seen it, I’d have bought it, too.) As for the Rob Zombie comment, I heard an interview with him on my beloved XM radio, and he admitted to being the only person left who buys CDs anymore. Since I still do, that means I’m in rare company; I think Zombie’s a genius.

And by the way, Chelle and I wrote this last week; I’ve since finished the book. Go get it.

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16 Nov

Sticky: Susan needs bookmarks!

This is a sticky post; scroll down for the new stuff

I like to tuck a bookmark or two inside of the books I mail out via the various book trading sites. It’s an easy way to promote authors, especially authors who aren’t in the mainstream yet. (yet!)

I’m running low.

Are you an author? Are you friends with an author? Are you a bored reader who’d like to cause trouble by finding authors who have bookmarks to send out?

Get in touch and I’ll give you the famed West of Mars PO Box address (located nowhere near Mars) because I need bookmarks!!!!

Yes, postcards and other promo items are eligible for this offer of free publicity, but I can’t always tuck them inside a mass-market sized book.

And if you’re an author but don’t have bookmarks or other promo materials, why not? Don’t you know I want to help spread your name?????

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