Friday, March 23, 2018

You Never Give Me Your Money

Make a bullet list of your ideal writing-related expenses. Must jibe with the themes of your books. And must be funny.

by Paul D. Marks

Jeeze Louise, a list of ideal writing-related expenses that must jibe with the themes of your books and it has to be funny. Hmm. I went to my Morey Amsterdam book of jokes but none seemed quite appropriate for a list of writing-related expenses. I guess I’ll have to wing it.

And since one has to justify one’s expenses, I’ve added a little description of each and why it’s necessary, rather than make a straight bullet list.  So, that said, here goes:

Internet expense for researching online……..: I want the platinum package, of course. The one that never disconnects and people actually come out to fix it before a month is up. Y’know, the basics. $5,550.

Dinner at my favorite restaurant. This would be research because one must know how the other half eats in order to be able to write about them. Of course, a meal at my favorite restaurant would cost about a measly ten bucks. So my patron and benefactor gets off easy on this one. $10.00. Maybe $15.00, inflation.

New York: Airfare, hotel, food and all expenses trip to NYC. Well, I truly am working on a book set in New York so this one’s not totally a joke. Gotta go there for research. And since an author should be treated to the style to which he isn’t accustomed I think Amy and I should stay in the best hotel, eat in the best restaurants, have the best seats for the theatre, have bodyguards to get us through and lots of insurance in case we don’t make it through. So I’m thinking $300,000.00 for a week’s stay. Hey, it’s New York, it ain’t cheap.
The Jungle Boat Ride at Disneyland
(Probably the closest I'll ever get to a cruise down the Amazon.)

More research: And while I’m at it, I think I might set a future book in New Orleans and one in Paris, Rome and Istanbul (one of the top places I want to go). And let’s not forget that trip I’ve always wanted to take up the Amazon in a boat for that story I’m, uh, writing, so those travel expenses will be necessary too. (I actually do have things set in latter two places, but in scripts I worked on but maybe a novel one of these days so you see I’m planning for the future here.) $2,000,000.73.

My mortgage, I know you’re only allowed to expense your home office if it’s used exclusively for your business, but isn’t every minute of every day spent working/thinking about my writing? And really my entire house is my office…books, papers, computers, tablets…strewn all over the house. You should see it it’s a mess. So $???

I'd like to write off my mortgage.

Will work for food!

My dogs’ food and vet bills: They are after all my writing assistants. $900.00/day. Don’t want them to starve. And I did promise them three weeks paid vacation, a health plan and 401(k) with 10% matching employer contributions in their contracts. That’s gotta come from somewhere.

eBay purchases: I like to scan eBay when I’m trying to think. It relaxes me. So if I sometimes end up buying something shouldn’t I be able to write that off? People have comfort animals. I have comfort goods. Like that submarine that was for sale a while back. I’d really like one. $200,073,037,034,247.44.

Books: I need books and lots of them. Can never have too many. $3250.00/week.

Diet Pepsi: Well, it used to be Diet Cherry Pepsi until they changed it. Then it used to be Diet Cherry Coke until they changed it to Feisty Cherry Coke, which is awful and makes me very feisty. Now we’re just onto plain old Diet Pepsi. Gotta have something to sustain us in the wee hours when the going gets lonely. Definitely a legit writing expense. $283.33/day.

Häagen-Dazs: Kind of like the comfort goods. After a hard day’s writing, it’s a necessity. $936.00/day.

Massage expenses: Sitting at a computer typing away all day makes your muscles sore. Gotta do something about that carpal tunnel syndrome. And since I’m a pampered writer I’d fly in Lucrezia B. straight from Italia (it costs more and is, therefore, better if you spell it that way). I just hope the B doesn’t stand for Borgia. $836,323.00/year. (I actually knew a guy, a hair stylist, who a Saudi prince would fly to Saudi Arabia several times a year just to cut his hair. I don’t know what he was paid, but I’m sure it helped him afford gold-plated shears.

Porsche 911: Well, you gotta get to book signings, plus pizza and beer runs and also to get to SinC-LA and SoCal MWA meetings on time. Might as well go in style. Of course, it is a tad cramped in the Porsche with the chauffeur, who doubles as a bodyguard, and what fun is a Porsche if you don’t drive it yourself. So the chauffeur sits in the passenger seat.  I’d also like that ’67 Pontiac Firebird for my character Duke Rogers in White Heat and the upcoming sequel Broken Windows, since his got burned in the 1992 riots in LA. He would like a replacement and so would I. My two fave cars, the Porsche and that era Firebird: orange with a black vinyl top. $42,500 for the Firebird. Porsche: $191,750. Glad there’s no change on that one.



Time and Materiel: Hey, a writer’s time ought to be worth something. A lot of people don’t seem to think it is but I do, so I’m making up for all those others here. And I want materiel instead of material ’cause, well let’s leave the details for another time: $3,038,384,598,434,933,444,348,102,218,562,034.33

And most important of all, Anti-Depressant drugs: see time and materiel explanation above, add in a whopping dollop of rejection and you definitely need to lay in the Prozac. See the cost of Time and Materiel, triple it, and that’s the cost of the drugs…after the insurance pays its share.

And back to the beginning of this post, who the hell is this Louise anyway?

***
And now for the usual BSP:

Check out my website: www.PaulDMarks.com


Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Essential costs for research...by Cathy Ace



This weeks' challenge is: 
Make a bullet list of your ideal writing-related expenses. 

Well, you asked.... 





My around-the-world cruise 2019 
(research for new books featuring globe-trotting sleuth Cait Morgan):

Dog-friendly luxury suite on cruise ship (me, dog & husband)   $65,000
Additional suite on cruise ship (for mother and sister)       $55,000
Delivery of Welsh cakes to fifteen ports of call, globally $5,000
Shore excursions to libraries/bookstores  $20,000
Sunscreen $500
Digital camera with good lenses $2,000
Extra hard-drive for camera $200
Photoshop/photo editing software and training $2,500
Dr. Bernstein weight-loss program, post-cruise, for four $5,000
Doggy diet food post-cruise $500


You can find out more about Cathy, her work and her characters at her website, where you can also sign up for her newsletter with news, updates and special offers: http://cathyace.com/

 






























Monday, March 19, 2018

Expense account musings

Q: Make a bullet list of your ideal writing-related expenses. Must jibe with the themes of your books. And must be funny.

- from Susan

A: My writing expenses are funny, mostly because I have yet to earn enough money to need the deductions. I just submitted my 2017 tax figurings to the accountant, whose laughter is doubtless filling his office. I can hear him now: “Listen to this, Murrry, $1,035 for a round trip ticket to France, hahaha… $22 for sausages at a meat market in some little town, hahaha…”

But, honestly, if you’re going to set a series in a small town in France, and you need to include food specialties, and you don’t happen to live there, what can you do? At every convention, on every panel on the topic, authors will tell you earnestly that you can’t make up stuff that can be easily challenged by people who have been to those places and eaten that good. No Coney Island dogs will substitute for the creamy taste and soft texture of a locally made, Burgundian veal sausage. California winters are nothing like French ones and my second book in the series is set in the depths of Burgundy in December. And speaking of December, Christmas? If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I would not have known how understated the public holiday is in the villages, how unused the many churches are, and how charming the marzipan fruits and vegetables that decorate candy shop windows are.

Readers sometimes chuckle, assuming that I decided to set my stories in France as a way to fund my travel jones. Aren’t I clever? I get to write off my almost annual trips and just do a wee bit of research to justify the time? So not true. My last trip was conducted in a rush, it rained or sleeted every day, all the soupe d’oignon in the world couldn’t warm me up, and my transit days in Paris were more of the same weather. Not that I don’t still love France, but if I were as smart as some people assume, I’d set all of my books in May and June, insist that my characters travel to Giverney and Provence, and have a strong sub-theme built around the great wines of the region. I can hear my accountant now: “Three bottles of Chablis, two bottles of Burgundy, and a half case of Cremant? Hahaha….”



Thursday, March 15, 2018

Too Much of a Good Thing

From Jim

Research is a little like an iceberg. A lot of it doesn’t show. How do you decide how much research to put into your work?

I love the bite of black pepper. But, let’s face it, too much of it will ruin whatever you’re cooking. I feel the same way about historical research in books. Any research, really. Unless the subject is history itself, the fruits of research should be the spice, not the flavor, of the story.


I write the Ellie Stone mysteries, a series set in the early 1960s. That requires a good amount of research. A lot of research. But much of that research is destined to remain below the surface, like an iceberg.


Historical details help set the scene and create a sense of time. They are essential to my stories. But how much of a good thing is too much?



I consider three things when deciding whether or not to include historical detail in my stories: accuracy, measure, and effectiveness

1. ACCURACY
The historical reference must be accurate or, let’s face it, it’s wrong. That doesn’t mean I don’t take liberties with certain details. As the writer, I can blur the focus or omit outright anything I’m not sure of. Imagine my heroine, Ellie, is driving her car and stops to fill up the gas tank. What if I don’t know which oil companies were around at that time? (I do, but let’s say for the sake of an argument that I don’t.) For something as commonplace as filling up, nothing requires me to identify the brand of gasoline or the price per gallon. Unless I want to make it a significant plot point, e.g. the murder took place at the Esso station or Ellie only has enough money for a gallon of gas. But I’d better get some details right. For instance, there was no self-service in 1960, so there must be an attendant to pump the gas and check Ellie’s oil.

Consider these two descriptions.
A.  I pulled into the Esso station, ran over the Milton service gas station signal bell hose,

and stopped in front of the high test pump. Using the dash-mounted gear lever of my 1955 Dodge Royal Lancer, I shifted into park, then I switched off the ignition. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I waited for the attendant.



B. I pulled to a stop at the gas pump and, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, waited for the attendant to answer the bell.

(I think we’ll all agree that “Milton service gas station signal bell hose and the gear shift information are more than is required. B is better.) 


2. MEASURE

In my research, I may have stumbled over some fascinating information that strikes me as very cool. But that doesn’t mean I should necessarily include it in my book. You can easily bore the reader with too much detail that stinks of research. Everything in good measure.


Here’s an example from my upcoming release, A STONE’S THROW (June 5, 2018). 
A. The Soviets had launched two different cosmonauts into space twenty-four hours apart. The first one was the third cosmonaut ever in space. The second was the fourth, and they were at that very moment orbiting Earth at the same time.

B. The Soviets had launched two different cosmonauts into space twenty-four hours apart, and they were at that very moment orbiting Earth in something resembling a couple of dented Volkswagens. Putting aside my worries that we would never catch the Russians in the space race, I set about plotting my day.

(Example B sets the period and also shows Ellie reacting to what was news in 1962, all the while continuing with her daily routine. Plus it’s less confusing.)

3. EFFECTIVENESS 

The reference must be effective.


I sometimes use historical details to create more than just plot points. I can evoke the period in just a word or two. I call these words “madeleines” after the nostalgic triggers in Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past. If my heroine asks the gas station attendant to fill the tank with Ethyl or high test or Good Gulf, the reader will probably know we’re not in 2018 anymore. And older readers might feel immediately transported back in time. That’s gold for a writer of historical fiction.

So don’t forget to spice the dish, but go easy on the pepper. Too much of a good thing is no good at all. 


Wednesday, March 14, 2018

There is a line

Research is a little like an iceberg. A lot of it doesn’t show. How do you decide how much research to put into your work?

by Dietrich Kalteis

Depending on the story I’m writing I may go about the research differently from book to book. I look for interesting facts and details that lend authenticity and accuracy, which allows the reader to believe the settings and what’s going on in the story. When I wrote House of Blazes, set during San Francisco’s earthquake and fire of 1906, I found a wealth of historical information: archives, newspaper articles from the time, first hand accounts and diaries, historical books, archives, web pages. I also found hundreds of photos from the times. There was so much, I had to put blinders on, being careful not to turn the novel into a history lesson. The photos alone gave me fantastic descriptive images, and I picked up some great expressions of the times from the first-hand accounts and diaries. 

One of the best parts of researching a story is going to the location I’m writing about. Of course, it’s not always possible, but it helps to experience the where, as well as to meet the people, see the architecture and so on.

I didn’t have to work as hard or go as far when I researched for Zero Avenue, which is set during the early days of the Vancouver punk music scene. Although I didn’t live in Vancouver right at the time, it’s home now, and I know it well, along with most of the locations I wrote about. I’m also a longtime fan of the music which helped make it easier. And the same went for the next novel, Poughkeepsie Shuffle, (Sept. 2018), set in Toronto in the mid-eighties, where I lived at the time.

The folly of including too much information is a writer can step all over the story’s pace. The details are important, sure, but the story also needs that flow to hold the reader’s attention. So, it’s important to include the strongest images for the reader to paint the scenes I’m describing, all without slowing the story.

And the descriptions have to suit my voice. And more often they have to suit the voices of my characters if something is told from their point of view. Sometimes the details are just snippets and they get tossed around quite casually.

Accuracy is key in any research, so I try to cross-check the reliability of any information I find. If the details end up in the narrative then they have to be right; not so much if it’s coming from a character. They’re allowed to be flawed, the writer isn’t.

Surrounding and immersing myself with a sea of research, sketching diagrams, writing notes to myself, listening to music from a particular period, talking with people who experienced what I’m writing about, all of it helps get me into the setting, imagining what a different time or place was like.

And since I don’t usually plot ahead, it’s amazing what comes along via the research. Sometimes an account, fact or news story comes along and adds a subplot, lending another layer to the whole thing.

When I think of William Faulkner writing the outline for A Fable across his office walls, I appreciate how working on a computer makes the whole process easier and faster these days. I can edit or Google something in mere moments without even getting up. But there is something to the organic process, and I like to go to a library and look things up, and I like to write first drafts in longhand.

So how much research to put into the work? I go for details that paint the best visuals for the reader. It’s key to never let any detail slow the pace. The whole thing to move along with interesting visuals created through the help of careful research. Above all, the writing has to sound authentic.