Who’d Want to Hide Such a Beautiful Face? from James W. Ziskin

Is there a movie better than the book? And name a book that you think defies adaptation?

When I was a young man, I was a film buff. A cinephile. I loved watching movies, especially foreign films and classics. Somewhere along the line I lost my enthusiasm for the seventh art, at least to the extent that I no longer enjoy sitting in movie theater seats that have been sat in by people I don’t know.

Anyway, back when I was a devotee, I used to say that great books rarely made great movies. And not-so-great books often did. Why? Maybe it’s for the same reason a great baseball player doesn’t always make for a great basketball player. Both sports demand athletic talent and hard work, but a good eye and a strong arm in baseball might not translate to dunking and blocking shots on the basketball court. Likewise, while films and books both tell stories, they do it in completely different ways. For starters, books are usually longer than films. And, as such, they tend to be more thorough. At 70,000 words plus, novels have the luxury of time and space to describe, develop, evoke, and expand. They do it with words, leaving the visualization to the reader. Film, on the other hand, employs its own visual lexicon, which, for better or worse—no judgment intended—performs the heavy lifting for the viewer. Film shows us what the landscapes and characters look like. It gives voice and personality to the people on screen. And it provides musical accompaniment to help set the mood or create drama. Book readers have to perform all those tasks themselves. This is why book covers often show a figure—usually a woman from behind—face unseen, fleeing some unknown menace. Publishers know that readers want to paint their own portraits of the characters. But can you imagine a Hollywood studio opting to hide the face of the devastatingly handsome lead actor for the entirety of a film? Not likely. That’s why Lon Chaney—not Rudolph Valentino—played the Phantom of the Opera. Who’d want to hide such a beautiful face?

      

Lon Chaney

Rudolph Valentino

But what about great books and not-so-great movie adaptations? Or so-so books and superb films? 

Take The Grapes of Wrath. I think it’s a masterpiece of literature. And the movie version? Directed by legendary filmmaker John Ford, with a brilliant cast, starring Henry Fonda and featuring a slew of wonderful character actors, including John Carradine and Jane Darwell, the film is often counted among the all-time greats. And yet… The film’s ending is a complete dud when compared to the powerfully moving and less-optimistic close of the novel. I understand that 1939 Hollywood couldn’t possibly show young Rose of Sharon offering her breast to nurse a starving old man, but the feel-good ending of the movie doesn’t do the novel justice. It spoils it for me.

Censorship, or perhaps restrictive standards, accounts for a lot of the shortcomings in films adapted from novels. But not all. For reasons that escape me, Hollywood often makes major changes to storylines when adapting books to film. It’s the old story of “I love this! It’s perfect! Now let’s change it!”

The Talented Mr. Ripley typifies this baffling practice. The most recent film/TV versions (1999 and 2024) changed major and minor details, especially the ending. Some of the changes worked, others not so much. But I wonder why change the details at all? As much as I might have enjoyed parts of the filmed versions, I believe the original novel is superior.

I teach high school French. One of the books we study is The Count of Monte-Cristo (Le comte de Monte-Cristo). In class, to supplement the text, I show portions of the various film versions of the book, the French ones as well as the English-language ones. By the way, there’s a great meta-cinematic wink between two of the films. In the 1961 French version, Louis Jourdan plays the hero, Edmond Dantès, aka the Count of Monte-Cristo. But my sharp-eyed students also recognized Jourdan playing a different role—the evil prosecutor Monsieur de Villefort—in the 1975 American miniseries version starring Richard Chamberlain. In the first film, Jourdan is sent to prison by Villefort, while in the second, Jourdan does the sending and Chamberlain does the time.

    

Louis Jourdan (Edmond Dantès 1961) 

Louis Jourdan (M. de Villefort 1975)     

There have been at least thirteen filmed versions of The Count of Monte-Cristo, including recent ones in English in 2002 and 2022 and a French iterations in 1998 and 2024. All of these include MAJOR deviations from the plot. Characters change names and roles, plot details are totally flipped, and even the endings are different. In short, the filmmakers tried to fix a story that readers have eating up since 1845. It’s strange but, alas, typical.

Now, what about books that are pretty good, okay, or even bad? Can they make good films? Sure. There are lots of examples. I’ll cite just a few.

My (subjective) opinions follow: 

Great/really good movie, terrible book

Slumdog Millionaire

The Devil Wears Prada 

Better movie than book

The Godfather (I and II). This is more a nod to Coppola’s brilliant films than a knock against Puzo’s novel. That said, a book can be a sensation without being great literature…

Great book, okay film

Murder on the Orient Express (1974). A fine film…except for Albert Finney’s performance as Poirot. I love Albert Finney, by the way, but he’s terrible here. Overacting as he shouts his lines in a strangled, nasal accent with no recognizable provenance. The 2017 version with Kenneth Branagh? Meh. David Suchet is the greatest Poirot I’ve seen.

Great book, great film

The Day of the Jackal. I love both versions. Wish I had written the book.

Let’s face it. A great book is usually better than its film version. And a beloved book will always surpass its cinematic adaptation, at least to its adoring readers, just as a great film will always be better than its novelization. 

Roll ‘em or read ‘em

Is there a movie better than the book? And name a book that you think defies adaptation?

by Dietrich

I think it’s a tall order for a movie to be better than the book. While it’s a visual experience and can be well-acted and executed, the adaptation is a shortened version and many tasty parts found in the book often have to be left out. For instance, a novel can tell the reader what’s going on inside the characters’ heads, revealing their deepest thoughts and what their words aren’t saying. 

And visualizing scenes and picturing the characters while reading can often be better than what ends up on the big screen. The Harry Potter books are a good example. J.K. Rowling's imagination and powerful writing made that possible — and in spite of the outstanding performances in the film versions by Maggie Smith, Michael Gambon, Alan Rickman and Gary Oldman.

Although it was a good movie, I think Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s fabulous A Clockwork Orange fell short of the novel.

I’m a fan of Hunter S. Thompson’s novels Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and The Rum Diary, and for me, neither film version measured up. And don’t get me started on Elmore Leonard novels. The movie versions have paled and didn’t pay homage to his brilliant writing. Having said that, there were scenes in Get Shorty with Dennis Farina playing Ray Bones that still get me laughing. 

I feel the same way about George V Higgins’ The Friends of Eddy Coyle and Cogan’s Trade (Killing Them Softly). I much preferred the novels over the films.

There are exceptions. In spite of Tolkein’s rich and detailed fictional universe, I enjoyed watching the Lord of the Rings movies more than I liked reading the novels.

Adaptations of Stephen King’s stories have run hot and cold over the years. I enjoyed the film versions of The Shining, The Green Mile, Misery, The Shawshank Redemption, Dolores Claiborne and Carrie as much as the books. One that didn’t work for me was the adaptation of Maximum Overdrive, which King directed himself and later called a learning experience. I think what he learned was that he was better suited to writing than directing.

It’s hard to imagine that any of Cormac McCarthy’s stories could be better up on the screen. Having said that, I think the Coen brothers did a great job with No Country for Old Men. And I liked The Counselor which McCarthy wrote as a screenplay, and was directed by Ridley Scott. The Road on the other hand was an incredibly tense and well-paced post-apocalyptic novel that conjured all kinds of bleak and dark images — the movie version paled by comparison.

There have been films that I liked as much as I liked reading the original novels. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, The Silence of the Lambs, The Help, True Grit, To Kill a Mockingbird, Deliverance and Forrest Gump to name a few. And the same goes for Mike Herron's Slough House novel series versus the Slow Horses TV series. They're both great.

As for books that defy adaptation, the story of Catcher in the Rye comes to mind. Not that it couldn’t be filmed, but JD Salinger did everything he could to block it from being turned into a film. The reclusive author was solicited by the elite of the film industry over decades. And he gave many reasons for turning them all down, calling The Catcher in the Rye "a novelistic novel … one that is essentially unactable." As it stands, The Catcher in the Rye will enter public domain in 2046, ninety-five years after it was first published. So for those of us wanting to see the film version, we’ll just have to wait a little longer.

Books vs. Movies

 

Movie V. Book Terry here, with our question this week: Is there a movie better than a book? And is there a book that defies adaptation? 

I have to go with “better” being an undefinable concept. Books allow the reader to use imagination to visualize characters and to gain insight into their thoughts and emotions. Movies rely on the screen writer’s and director’s interpretation of those elements. What may strike one moviegoer as an appalling interpretation of a book, another viewer may find more enjoyable than the reading for a variety of reasons.

Seeing the scenes played out visually can be a treat. I’m thinking of the original movie of Tom Jones, adapted from Henry Fielding’s The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. Who can ever forget the rakish Tom in the movie, while the book could be a little obtuse. War and Peace is another example. The movie was lush and vibrant to look at, it but the interpretation was romantic, while the book has scenes of brutal realism. I suspect the book defies adaptation unless you’re willing to sit through an eight-hour movie. 

 I’ve read books many that I thought couldn’t possibly be made into movies. Who would have thought that David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas could have been put on the screen. But it was, and it was a terrific movie. Was it as good as the book? It was different. 

An actor can interpret a role in a way that illuminates a character, sometimes even more vividly than the book. I’m thinking of the recent adaptation of The Talented Mr. Ripley. (a TV series, not a movie, but I’m not going to quibble.) Andrew Scott’s portrayal of Tom Ripley was chilling. He inhabited the role in a way that makes me hope I never meet Mr. Scott in real life. He’s terrifying. Does that make the adaptation “better?” I don’t remember being so enthralled by the book, but I know for some readers it’s Patricia Highsmith’s masterpiece. 

There are scenes from some movies that have stuck with me years after I saw them, while scenes from the book slid into obscurity. The movie Sophie’s Choice is a case in point. The book, by William Styron, was brilliant, but when I think of the book, a movie scene comes immediately to mind, the one in which Sophie (played by Meryl Streep) has to make her choice. The horror that Streep’s face conveyed is haunting. Books usually have more breadth than movies. 

Someone writing a movie script from a book has to choose among a variety of themes and ideas, which means giving others short shrift. I was completely enthralled by William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury when I saw it as a young woman. But it was a box office flop, and considered one of the worst movies, ever. But it intrigued me so much that I tackled the book. And I found that the movie was extracted from one scene—one SHORT scene in the book. The rest of the movie was simply explaining what that scene meant. Does that mean the book defies adaptation? It does if you mean the whole book. But the movie got the point across that the family was decadent and rotting at the core. 

 As for crime fiction, the movies are a mixed bag. The adaptation of Stephen King’s The Shining is a classic. The combination of the story, the screen interpretation, and the acting is top-notch. 

Likewise, Carrie. It almost seems as if King’s books are meant to be adapted. There are twelve—which leaves out a lot of books, but I’m sure someone will get around to them. I’m curious to know what makes a book suitable for adaptation to movies. 

Several of Harlan Coben’s books have been adapted for TV movies or limited series. I watched a few, and every single one falls flat for me. The books are much better. Does that mean they defy adaptation? For me, they do. But that doesn’t stop directors from trying. 

 Sometimes I read a book that seems to cry out for movie adaptation. James Ziskin’s Bombay Monsoon seems perfect for a movie—atmospheric, with secrets and forbidden passion. 

Anything by Laurie King. You can’t ask for a more cinematic writer. Eric Beetner’s books beg to be on the screen—which makes sense, since he’s a TV editor and producer. There are countless World War II movies. The public never seems to get enough of them. Why, then, has J.L. (Janet) Oakley’s riveting The Jossing Affair not been picked up? It has everything that makes a World War II movie memorable—Espionage, revenge, and terror. 

And come on! My Samuel Craddock series may not be action-oriented enough for a movie, but it’s ripe for a TV series—all my friends say so! And my new Jessie Madison series is perfect for action films. Even my copyeditor said the second one, Deep Dive, coming out in the spring, was “compelling and dramatic.” 

Hello, Hollywood, where are you?

Books Adapted to the Big Screen

Is there a movie better than the book? And name a book that you think defies adaptation?

Good Monday morning - Brenda here.

A subjective kind of question this week. I'm often amazed at how one person can love a book or movie that another avidly dislikes. For me, the book and movie experiences are completely different kettles of fish. As a rule, I prefer to read the book before seeing the movie and have been excited to see the adaptation for those books I've really enjoyed.

I remember reading Gone With the Wind (a verrry long book) in high school and then going to see the movie soon afterward. I found the movie boring because the story was still so fresh in my mind. Note to self: leave some time in between reading and watching.

I'm trying to think of a movie I liked better than the book. My book club read Bridget Jones's Diary and enjoyed it enough that we all went to the movie in a theatre together. We enjoyed the movie as much, if not more, than the book, particularly because one member found the movie hilarious and got us all laughing because she was laughing. This same book club rented Pride and Prejudice and from all accounts replayed Mr. Darcy diving bare-chested into the pond several times (I missed the meeting), so perhaps our standards for what's entertaining might differ from others. That said, I think some of the period novels translate very well to the screen - visual extravaganzas.

I loved reading the Giles Blunt's Cardinal crime fiction series, which was made into a television series. The screen writers changed the plots, not for the better in my opinion. I much preferred the books. Same with Louise Penny's books, which didn't translate as well to the screen, I think because there is so much beauty in her writing that is lost.

One television series I enjoyed on the screen, mainly because I like Kenneth Branagh, is the Wallander books. I'd say I enjoyed the tv series more than Henning Mankell's books. The director captured the Swedish setting beautifully, and of course, there's Branagh.

As for a book that I believe defies adaptation, it would be a book with a plot I didn't enjoy. I'm not a big fan of serial killers on the screen, so maybe those books don't translate well for me, although others like this kind of movie. I find some of the cozy mysteries too simplistic for adaptation, but others love these too.  

So, I've bobbed and weaved my way through this week's question. Let me know if there's a movie you've liked as much or more than the book - all suggestions welcome!

Website: www.brendachapman.ca

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High Resolution by Poppy Gee

What are your literary resolutions for 2025… as a Writer, as a Reader?

Great question! I love this topic for my first post on this blog. Making a to-do list always gives me a surge of energy. Whenever I write down my goals, no matter how big or complicated they are, the path to them becomes clearer.

This feels especially true for resolutions made in January. Here in Australia, we’re in the middle of delightfully long summer school holidays. We’ve shared the time between Tasmania, staying with my parents, hiking and fishing, picking cherries in local orchards and barbecuing fish the day it’s caught; and at the beach in Queensland near where we live, swimming and snorkelling, mucking around in small vessels on the bay, eating fresh mango, and finding more time to read – this is a relaxing, rejuvenating month.

 

There are big changes happening in our home this year. In February, my 17-year-old daughter will move interstate to live on campus at Melbourne University. We’ll still have our 16yo and 9yo boys, but with one less child to care for I’m hoping to have more time to write. (And more space, I’ll get to use her bedroom to write!)

What can I achieve this year as a writer?

Currently, I have one crime fiction manuscript which my agent has sent out on submission. That’s a novel I’ve been working on for more than twenty years. I couldn’t let go of it, it’s a story I keep returning to, revising, tweaking tiny details. I’ll be beyond excited if it finds a home - I’ve got all my fingers and toes crossed.

With that one off my desk for now, I’m free to start something new. This is my favourite part of the writing process. I love the limitless possibilities of the blank page. But I’ve decided not to start a new novel straight away. I have several almost finished manuscripts that I set aside for various reasons. One is a historical crime novel, two are psychological thrillers. Time apart has sharpened my sense of what I need to do to them. I teach crime fiction workshops via the local writers’ centre and bookstores, and the key advice I give to aspiring authors is: Finish Your Novel. I need to take my own advice. So, my New Year Writing Resolution is: Polish and Submit.

Separate to my novelist goals, there’s an essay I want to write. It’s an ‘investigative memoir’ about my grandfather, Ted Embery. I remember him as larger than life, a vivacious man who was passionately proud of his family. He was the son of a house maid and an ‘unknown’ father. His mother had two children but was only allowed to keep the little girl at her live-in employment, so my grandfather was placed in an orphanage when he was only four. He joined the navy at fourteen and met his bride at a servicemen’s function. She belonged to the Alvey family who made fishing reels in their factory on the banks of the Brisbane River, and they warmly welcomed him. My mother recalls him determinedly trying to find out who his father was but he hit a roadblock. I’d like to see if I can find out more. I don’t even know if it’s possible. So far, I’ve recorded interviews with relatives, and last year I attended a memoir writing workshop with the highly regarded Australian writer Kari Gislason. His advice regarding writing a memoir is to structure it like a crime story - what is the question at the heart of your story? That made sense to me. My essay will probably be best suited for submission to a local literary journal. I’m putting it here to hold myself accountable.

 

Kari Gislason's memoir Running with Pirates

Now, the hard bit. Reading resolutions. Here are some:

Stop buying so many books. Finish reading the book stack by my bed. And the books on the shelf near the front door. And those on my desk. Stop reading multiple books at one time because maybe it’s not respectful to the author. Read outside my comfort zone. Read an Agatha Christie book in full for the first time. Stop pretending I’ve read any Agatha Christie books when I’ve only seen the movies. Read more widely. Read just what I want to read, not what I feel I should...    

I’ll stop there - I know I'll break them all. Except for the one regarding Agatha – I’ve outed myself now. Genuinely, I want to scroll less on my phone and read more; and borrow more from the library. I’m not too worried about my reading goals. I’m a good reader. I finish a book each week. I’ll keep doing that.

Current read: Dice by Claire Bayliss (it's a legal psychological thriller about a jury and it's excellent)

 

My last library haul. I'm resolving to borrow more, buy less, in 2025.

My writing goals are very important to me. There’s much I want to write, and only so much time, so I need to set high-resolution goals. There’s much in this world we can’t control but we can control how we move through it, and for me, writing is a satisfying way to do that, and to try to make sense of the confusion. 

Thank you, Eric, for inviting me to be part of this blog. I’m excited to be here, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the other writers via their blog posts and their books.

Happy New Year to all the readers and writers in this wonderful blog-community!

 

New Year, Same Old Me, by Catriona

 What are your Literary Resolutions for 2025…as a Writer, as a Reader?

I'm quite big on New Year's resolutions. Making them, that is. Not so much keeping them. But that doesn't stop me.

I don't have any reading resolutions, beyond carrying on reading exactly what I want. And giving up on page 50, if I'm still checking page numbers at 49. Right now, I'm reading this:

It's a 1920 domestic novel about middle-class Scottish life written by John Buchan's sister. (He wrote The Thirty Nine Steps.) Imagine the sweetest, tamest cozy ever written and take the crime out. Thrill a minute. 

When it comes to writing, though, I've got resolutions coming out the front door. And the best thing about them is I can't even start breaking them till March. January and February are set aside to edit the eighth Last Ditch Motel mystery - Scot's Eggs. Right now I'm on the shovel edit, where I clear up the ordure of the headlong first-draft production from before Christmas. Peee-eew. However, I got a boost of enthusiasm on Monday, finding out that Book 7 is shortlisted for the 2025 Lefty for best humorous novel. Yay! 

By the time I get to Left Coast Crime in Denver, though, I'll be deep in the new thing I've resolved to do. Which is . . .

. . . under wraps. I've been trying to think of a way to use this particular theme/setting/trope/hook for years. I've seen other writers find a way into it and been so happy for them sick with envy, but I still couldn't bring it into focus for myself. 

Meanwhile in another part of the forest, I'd had three quarters of a story knocking about my head. Only, where did it take place? Who is that woman? Why's she there at the start of the plot? What's she doing when she's not doing the plotty bits?

It was late last year that these two live ends touched each other and frrritzzzzed themselves to life as an actual novel. I dashed off a one-page proposal and sent it to my agent immediately, knowing she had to shut it down quick if it was a stinking pile of rubbish, because I was already so committed that it was only going to get worse if I kept the dream alive a day longer.

Reader, it wasn't a stinking pile of rubbish, according to Lisa. And I've decided it's a series. So starting in March, I've got a wet ton of background research to do. Ah, who'm I kidding? I'm going to blat out a first draft and make up everything I don't know. Then I'll have a wet ton of research to do, but at least if it's a series I only need to do it once and it'll last for books and books on end.

Just as well my New Year's resolution isn't "get more into research", eh?

Cx

Hold me to it! by Eric Beetner

What are your Literary Resolutions for 2025…as a Writer, as a Reader?

I usually vow to read more, but I usually fall short of my goals even though I read quite a bit. I think what I need to do is read more for myself and less for obligation. Beyond the fact that I have spent several years as a judge for major writing awards, I like to keep abreast of what is popular out there and what other are reading, so I try for some books that more often than not, disappoint me. I know this is my issue, and not the book, but I need to do better at sticking to what I like and not feel pressured into reading stories that don’t intrigue me.

That said, it runs in contrast to my vow to take chances and read new authors, new genres, new ideas. It’s a slippery slope. I always try to steer out of my lane and I’ve discovered some great books that way. I think in the end, I’ve been reading long enough that I know what intrigues me. Ignore the author name, the cover art, focus on the story and if it is something I’m interested in. Damn the rest. Go with my gut.

This one may hurt, but I’ve promised myself this year to buy fewer books. Things have been tight around my house, economically, and the royalty checks certainly aren’t helping matters. Now that hardcovers have crossed the $30 mark, I really take a long hard look at a book before I invest. It’s always been a worry that books go the way of live theater and turn what used to be entrainment for the masses into an indulgence for the elite. 

I will embrace my local library and not worry if a title doesn’t make it onto my shelf for posterity.

My writing goals may be opposite most writers – to slow down a bit.

I’ve been accused of being very prolific. Sure, I have a lot of ideas and I like to write. But it becomes harder to keep up the pace. Work, kids, social life all get in the way and I’ve put some of those aside for too long. I have a book out in Feb and another one next year, so I don’t need to keep my foot on the gas. Since the books aren’t paying the bills, I write because I enjoy it. And I want to enjoy it more. Maybe that means taking the pressure off myself to produce so much. I want to leave some in the tank so I don’t completely burn out. 

Now for the contradiction on that one: I want to get through some of these ideas that have been hanging around for too long. I have dozens and dozens of half-baked ideas, outlines, pitches and scribblings that keep multiplying like rabbits. I want to write some of them so they just get out of the way. Maybe some are only short stories, maybe some are screenplays. Either way, I hope to clear out some of the backlog.

Speaking of, back to reading: I need to work through this TBR pile and not be so easily distracted by the newest acquisition. There are a few books I know are coming this year that will be must-buys for me (like Christa Faust’s long awaited conclusion to her Angela Dare series, and William Boyle’s newest) but if I don’t make progress through this pile of unread books, it will surely topple and crush me.

Now, I’ll just copy and paste this for next year when all my resolutions are the exact same!

Literary Resolutions in 2025

 

What are your Literary Resolutions for 2025…as a Writer, as a Reader?

 

Ah, January, the month of intentions where we promise to become our best version of ourselves. We vow to eat better, exercise more, and be kinder and gentler to ourselves and to those around us. Writers are word nerds, so we promise to write more, read more, and be more active in the community. That all said, I’ve been made aware that most resolutions die a quiet death by the second Friday of January. There’s a name for it, and it is called Quitter’s Day.

 

I’m better than that, and I say that without a maniacal cackle, tying someone down to railroad tracks, or with a twirl of the mustache I do not possess.

 

Truth be told, I’m burnt out. I set aside my own writing and read over a 100 books in 2024. I had felt the need to get a whiff of contemporary literature since I often feel as if I write Grandpa’s noir. As expected the adventure was a mixed bag of Highs and Lows. I grew tired of seeing the same thing from Big Five Publishers, with some variations on a theme, hashed and rehashed like roadkill. In a word, whatever they think will sell. Therefore and henceforth, I’ve decided to dial back on my reading carbs for 2025.

 

Then the Election happened.

 

I seldom discuss politics because I adhere to the old chestnut that one does not discuss politics, religion, or sex, but…seriously? I watched and listened to a majority of people express their concerns, yet somebody voted a felon and a cadre of grifters into office. Sorry, it’s objective evidence and not subjective opinion. This nation has had less than stellar characters sit in the chair. I get that, and I accept that. Lincoln suspended habeas corpus twice and ordered the largest mass execution in US history—and he is considered one of our best. One of our presidents was a hangman, and I haven’t entered the modern era. As John Oliver says, ‘And now this.’

 

I indulge in this rare tangent for one simple reason. When overwhelmed and depression tempts me, I throw myself into work. I’ve written over 200,000 words since the November election, and that’s not including the sixth Shane Cleary mystery that I am writing at the moment. The idea for the novel came to me, so I sat down and attacked the keyboard.

 

In addition to Shane, I am at the grill, flipping and cooking three novels at the same time (part of the 200K body count), and I’ve sketched out a Weekday Mystery cozy mystery series that I’ve been ruminating on for years. While the world seems on the verge of collective whatever, I decided I won’t be the cow chewing the cud in the meadow. I can’t control the show, but the best way I choose to react to it is to work.

 

That said, my other resolution is to explore the narrative of crime and mysteries through the lens of foreign films and series on Netflix. Subtitles have never bothered me, since I use them all the time for shows, movies, and other binges in English because I am hard of hearing. There’s an embarrassment of riches on Netflix. Here is a shortlist.

 

French

Black Butterflies

Code Name: Emperor

Criminal French

Gone for Good

 

 

German

Criminal Germany

Dear Child

Dogs of Berlin

Murder Mindfully

 

Italian

Adagio

Baby

Lidia Poët

On My Skin

 

Portuguese

Glória

 

 

Spanish

Costa del Sol

Criminal Spain

Emilia Pérez

Gangs of Galicia

Money Heist

 

When in doubt, Murder, She Wrote with Angela Lansbury is as good as a virtual hug.

New Year Newish Literary Me? From Angela Crook

 What are your Literary Resolutions for 2025...as a Writer, as a Reader?

Welcome 2025! We made it through 2024. We survived. Maybe, some of you even thrived. Was 2024 the year you had hoped for? Planned for? Prayed for? And more importantly, did you cross off resolutions you made sometime in December of 2023? Have you finished with your list of grand plans for 2025? Or are you, like me, still considering every option to make 2025 the most perfect year of your life so far? Let’s discuss. Tell us, we’re dying to hear, at least about your literary resolutions. What resolutions do you have on your literary list for 2025?

Personally, 2024 was the greatest time of my literary career. I signed with my dream agent, my first traditional novel was released, making me feel like Celie from The Color Purple, as she dances down that church aisle, crying out for all the world to hear, I’s married. In my case, it was more spinning around my living room clutching my brand-new book baby to my chest, while my audience of three cats and a twenty-something young son looked on slightly less impressed as I proclaimed, I’m published. Same thing though, right?

But I rode that excitement all through 2024 to arrive at 2025 with the question, what’s next? The answer, so much! But where to start? The obvious answer, write more books. I promise I’m working on it. Albeit too slowly, which brings me to resolution number one. Setting a daily writing goal and sticking with it. Now, I know if you’ve been in this profession for a while and this is how your bread is buttered, this one may seem like a no brainer. But if you’re new in the game and your discipline is a little sketchy, you, like me, may need a little help. Introducing my new whiteboard schedule that I have to see everyday when I walk into my office for work. I figure if the master, Mr. Stephen King, commits to ten pages a day, per On Writing, then one thousand words is a worthy goal/resolution for me.

And of course, if I want to continue down this road of making writing a career, then I must swallow my anxiety and fear of failure and market, letting the world know my book baby is out there looking for a home, or thousands of homes. So, we’ve arrived at resolution number two: author for rent. Need a guest for your book club, podcast, hastily put together in-store event, say no more. I’m your Huckleberry (Tombstone reference).  To be honest, this may be the hardest of my resolutions, being the typical introvert writer who is most comfortable with a good glass of red, have bottle will travel (LCC 2024 reference IYKYK. 😊) And a good book. But in 2025, I am resolved to put myself out there more. Which to me means more time on social media, seeking out opportunities to be a guest on podcasts or panels. I’m interested, what are some of your favorite ways to spread the word about your books?

Resolution number three is a fun one: conferences! That time where for a few days your only job is to talk about books, whether it’s reading or writing, making new writer friends, or connecting with old ones. Attending conferences is like adult summer camp for bookworms. Because in the end, I believe, that all the great writers were bookworms first. So being surrounded by people you’ve spent so much time with, cuddled up in bed, riding the train, having a soak, well, that’s food for my writing soul. So, I’m resolved to attend at least two conferences this year—maybe three, depending on what the bank account says—because I believe, feeding your inspiration is as important as feeding your body, at least from a writing standpoint.

I only wish resolution number four was as fun. I’d like to commission a study for this one, because I think this might be fairly, or even highly, common with writers in general. Still, I’ll admit, I might be on the outskirts of the acceptable when it comes to checking my email. All I can say is I’m going to do better. In 2025, I am resolved to treat my email like I treat my favorite shows, currently Love Island and Elementary, and my current read, No Man’s Ghost by Jason Powell, and at least look at it every day. I won’t embarrass myself by saying how many unread emails I’m currently in the process of deleting, but if you want to share your number, I’d be most interested. No one wants to feel bad alone. By the end of 2025 I intend to read and delete emails once a day. Feel free to cheer me on.

 And last but never least. Reading!  I am resolved to put such a dent in my TBR list that by 2026, I will not feel in the least bit guilty when I pick up all the new releases from my favorite authors. If you saw the greatness of my TBR list, you’d be filled with envy. Imagine having to make time to read a Tracy Clark, Catriona McPherson, Jess Loury, or Cynthia Pelayo book? Insane, I know. I could entertain myself for the whole of 2025 without ever having to leave the house or turn on the TV.

So, in 2025, look for me to be organized, disciplined, writing, and reading and maybe, just maybe, a special announcement at some point. If you see me roaming around a writer’s conference with a glass of wine and a giddy smile, say hi, and maybe ask if I’ve checked my email. Cheers to a new year to write great things, meet great people, and read great stories.

Advice and Dissent from James W. Ziskin

Tell us, the best edit or manuscript advice you received, and the worst?  

I have a tradition of posting my New Year’s resolutions poem every January. You’ll find it below, following my answer (rant) to this week’s question. Happy New Year!

For this week’s question, I’m going to limit myself to my least favorite bit of writing advice and make some enemies in the process. I strongly disagree with the conventional wisdom that it’s “bad” style to use any dialogue tag other than “said.”

Such advice reminds me of Newspeak. It handcuffs us. Reduces our choices. Makes our language poorer. Deprives us of so many words. Perfectly good words. Words that carry nuance and imply a more precise meaning than the humble “said.” Aren’t we encouraged to use strong verbs instead of weak ones in our writing? Why shouldn’t that advice apply to dialogue attribution as well? No one tells us to use one verb to describe, say, eating, do they? “The man ate the chicken” certainly doesn’t convey the same meaning as “The man devoured/wolfed down/nibbled on the chicken.” By the same token, “said” can’t communicate the precision of yelled, shouted, screamed, bellowed, mumbled, grumbled, whined, and so on.

To me, this particular bit of advice feels random, and I believe it could very well be subject to changing tastes. Norms go in and out of style. Today’s rules will be tomorrow’s fodder for ridicule. It was once acceptable, after all, for writers to use “ejaculate” and other verbs as a dialogue tags.

We have dozens of powerful, descriptive verbs to characterize speech, so why not use them occasionally when appropriate? Here are some examples.

“I love you,” she said ≠ “I love you,” she whispered.

“My leg,” he said  ≠ “My leg,” he moaned.

“But I don’t want to,” she said  ≠  “But I don’t want to,” she whined.

“Good morning,” she said  ≠ “Good morning,” she sang.

“Get out,” he said  ≠ “Get out,” he bellowed.

“Help,” he said  ≠ “Help,” he screamed.

Some others: quipped, snapped, harrumphed, snorted, mused, offered, chirped...

Okay, you may not like some of these, but why exactly are they bad style? What are the criteria being used to determine their quality? It’s not like math. It’s not two plus two. There’s no objective standard.

Look, many of the rules floating around out there are useful, and we should bear them in mind as we write. In fact, I probably use “said” as a dialogue tags ninety-five percent of the time. But every now and then, I opt for a more expressive verb. The mot juste. 

And now that I’ve vented, please enjoy my resolutions.

I Hereby Resolve by James W. Ziskin

Upon the first of Jan-u-ary each and every year

I choose a comfy cushioned chair on which to park my rear

Then taking pencil, pen, or plume I think with all my might

About my life, my hopes, my dreams, and then begin to write

I make a note of all my flaws, my missteps, and my sins

And number them from one to ten and sort them into bins:

A catalogue of wishes, goals, and changes to achieve,

To lose some weight, to write more books, and royalties receive!

But not all thoughts are for myself, I also have a heart

So I resolve to do some good, pitch in, and play my part,

To be a better person and to help human-i-tee,

Or maybe just be satisfied to keep my san-i-tee

For all in all you must admit that things are not so good

At home, abroad, in Baltimore, and in your neighborhood

With guns and hate and politics and fears we cannot quell

It often seems we’re on a highway heading straight to hell 

But then I reason as I sit here in my pensive pose

Some things I can control and fix, so why not start with those?

My wrath, my sloth, and moods most foul are faults I could improve

Why not correct them right away? Cast out, erase, remove?

While in the past I must admit that my resolve was frail

This time my pledge is resolute; I don’t intend to fail

I vow to change, to grow, to thrive, and forge myself anew

And through hard work and sweat and blood I’ll make my dreams come true

But just in case my will is weak and my plans gang ag-ley

I’ll save this verse for twelve months more until next New Year’s Day

Then with high hopes and best intents I’ll shout for all to hear

The very same prom-is-es that I made and broke this year