Writing Murder

Today's Guest blogger is S. M. Harding, author of 24 published short stories, photographer, and editor of  Writing Murder, a collection of essays by Midwest crime and mystery authors. The handy primer on the art of crime fiction is based on a successful lecture program held at the Mystery Company in Carmel Indiana. (Disclaimer:  I am a contributor.) 

Michael Dymmoch

This is what S. M. has to say:

"When it comes to writing crime fiction, I dislike rules. The kind that say, “You must have a body (preferably dead) in the first chapter.” I know you know what I mean: how-to writing books that are rule-bound, prescriptive, and formulaic.

As a teacher most of my life, I tried to give students the basics and then say “Go play.” I tried to give them a toolbox that they could dip into to pick and choose. Basics they could use in different ways. When I started writing crime fiction, what I wanted was a toolbox – clear, precise delineations of craft that could find different applications.

Some of the questions I had were: How can I raise the suspense level in this sagging middle? My opening sucks – what can I do to hook the reader? I’ve written a character that has less personality than a cardboard cutout – how can I breathe some life into him?

I’ve finally found my ideal toolbox: Writing Murder.

(Disclaimer: I edited the book, so I may be a tad biased.)

The book began as a series of classes at The Mystery Company, Jim Huang’s bookstore in Carmel, Indiana. Each author not only presented a wonderful class, but then wrote an essay for the book. Each of them donated their work to the Writers’ Center of Indiana, publisher of Writing Murder and co-sponsor of the lecture series. Profits from the book go to support WCI outreach programs to writers, schools and prisons of central Indiana.

Outfit members Michael Allen Dymmoch (“The Bloody Ends: Killer Openings, Killer Endings”) and Libby Hellmann (“Building Suspense”) join Jeanne Dams, Phil Dunlap, Kit Ehrman, Terence Faherty, Dana Kaye, William Kent Krueger, Beverle Graves Myers, Tony Perona, Mary Saums, Sharon Short, Barbara Shoup, and Mark Richard Zubro to offer wonderful essays in voices all their own.

Mystery author Barbara D’Amato said: “Writing Murder is a wonderful read. I found something helpful in every essay. They call it a basic guide, but there is useful material here for the beginner or the much-published author.” I agree.

So, if you’ve been playing with “this idea” for a story, start with the Introduction and with each essay, begin to fill in that idea. Get the toolbox and write – after all, we’re facing the post-holiday doldrums and what could be better than spending time with your own fictional characters?"

Writing Murder is available on Amazon, or directly from the Writers’ Center of Indiana at indianawriters dot org.

"Sing, Sing, Sing" -- A Chicago Story

by Libby Hellmann


I first came to Chicago in the fall of 1977. At the time I was looking for a job in broadcast news (Which turned out not to be, but that’s another story). I’m still not sure who told me about it, but I stayed at the Belden Stratford, an apartment-hotel in the middle of Lincoln Park, which at the time, housed one of the best Mandarin restaurants in Chicago, the Dragon Inn. (I still go to the Dragon Inn North – same owners).

But I digress.

In 1977 the Belden-Stratford wasn’t an assisted living facility, but you might have mistaken it for one. Formerly an elegant hotel, the lobby still had a patina of style, but most of it had faded into a dusty, dingy, place with frayed carpets, and cracked leather furniture. (It appears to have been remodeled since). I booked it for a month, spending my time going on interviews, working freelance, and seeing the sights of Chicago.



I would get back to the hotel around four, and would be greeted by a phalanx of senior citizens lounging on chairs and sofas in the lobby. They would stare at me as I swung through the door. Most of them looked vacant, some sad, and no one smiled. I didn’t stop but made a beeline for the elevator.



One day, though, one of the women did smile at me, and I decided to sit next to her. She must have been well into her eighties, she looked frumpy, and she walked with a cane. We started to chat about this and that… nothing important, just passing the time of day. She asked me why I was staying there, and I told her. I asked her how long she’d lived there, and she told me. I was about to say goodbye and go up to my room when she said. “You’re probably too young, but do you happen to know who Benny Goodman was?”

Now, you have to know that my late father was a party animal. He was the guy everyone wanted to be around when the music started playing and the drinks were flying. And along with Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald, he had all of Benny Goodman albums. In fact, at least once a week, usually on Saturday nights, the strains of Benny’s clarinet or Ella’s perfect soprano or some other Swing and/or Big Band tune would float upstairs as I was trying to fall asleep. I told the woman that.

She grinned. “Well, I’m Benny Goodman’s sister.”

Once I put my jaw back in alignment, she said, “Come with me, sweetie.”

We went up to her small, cramped apartment. Every available inch of wall space was covered with framed photos and newspaper clippings. Other mementos spilled onto end tables next to china figurine miniatures, lace doilies, and other tchotchkes. Most of them were a memorial to her brother.

There were photos of him playing with Gene Krupa and Harry James at the Blackhawk restaurant, album covers (some the same as my father’s), family photos taken in the Maxwell Street area where they grew up – there were twelve siblings – and one photo of their father, who died before his time in a traffic accident.

I was fascinated and looked through everything. Then I asked if I could bring my camera down so I could take pictures of the pictures for my father.

“I have a better idea,” she said (To this day I can’t remember her first name… my bad). “How would you like a photo?”

I nodded, and she gave me a picture of Benny, Gene Krupa, and Harry James. It was a candid, and they were rehearsing. She didn’t know where. I do remember two of them (don’t recall which ones) had cigarettes burning.

I sent my father the photo the next day.

That was my first “Chicago” moment, not particularly exciting or memorable except to me. A piece of Chicago’s past had been shared with me, and I felt a bond with the city, its history, and the talent nurtured on the shores of Lake Michigan.

That was over 30 years ago. Benny Goodman is gone, his sister is too, and so is my father. But during the few moments I spent in her apartment, something registered. A sister who was inordinately proud of her brother and was able to tell the tale to a younger person who appreciated it.

It was a special moment, and I knew from that day forward that I belonged in Chicago. Come hell or high water. Maybe even so I could tell this story one day.

Stick around to hear SIng, Sing, Sing, by the Benny Goodman Orchestra (with Sid Casear too)!

"SAY THE WORD... and you'll be free" now open for business

Well, I went and did it. I started my own personal blog. Still not sure why, except that it was time. I'll be staying at the Outfit as well, but now I'll have a chance to post stuff that is more -- well -- whatever I damn well want.

Yeah, it is freeing.

So... my first post on the new blog is the back story on TOXICITY. I hope you'll check it out and leave a comment. Or not.

See you here and there.

TOXICITY -- New e-book

by Libby Hellmann

Hi, everyone. It's a new month, and I have a new book out! It's a police procedural/thriller and it turned out to be the prequel to my Georgia Davis PI series.
Here's the description:

Ten years before EASY INNOCENCE, PI Georgia Davis was a police officer on the force in a Chicago suburb. And while homicides are rare on the North Shore, three bodies turn up in quick succession—all of them dumped in waste disposal dumpsters or landfills. The investigations into the murders test the mettle and professionalism of a combined police task force. Along the way, they also test the strength of Georgia’s relationship with one of the detectives working the case. While Georgia, her detective boyfriend Matt, and his sometime partner John Stone pit their skills against those of an ingenious killer, the daughter of a real estate mogul-- who just happens to have her eye on Matt -- complicates matters. A dark police procedural and thriller, TOXICITY is a prequel to the Georgia Davis PI series (EASY INNOCENCE and DOUBLEBACK).

It's only just gone up, but there is one review, a quote from which I have to share:

"Hellmann writes with the economy and emotional punch of classic crime novelists like Lawrence Block."

(Be still, my heart....)

Hope you'll give it a look. You can find it on Amazon, on Nook, on Smashwords, and soon, hopefully all the others.

Have a great holiday, everyone.

SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE at Kindleboards

by Libby Hellmann

Hi, all. Those of you who are on KindleBoards might be interested in a discussion about SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE. It's part of their "Read With The Author" Book Klub, which they're in the process of reviving. I am one of six authors they asked to lead a discussion, and I had the "good fortune" to be the guinea --er -- first.

So, I'd love it if you popped over and put in your two cents. There are a bunch of threads, but you really don't have to have read the book to participate -- some of them are pretty general.

Thanks. See you over here.

Footage from '68 Convention

Shelf Awareness is featuring the book trailer of SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE as today's "trailer of the day," mostly because it contains actual footage shot at the Democratic National Convention in 1968 by Chicago film-maker and artist, Tom Palazzolo (who, btw, will be having little show at the Art Institute main building in the lower level price auditorium at 6 o’ clock.)

Anyway, for those of you who missed it the first time, here's the trailer.

Yea, Libby!

I just got word that our own Libby Hellmann's Easy Innocence won the Lovey Award for Best PI/Police Procedural, given at the Love Is Murder conference.

Congratulations, Libby!

Congratulations, Libby

For a starred review in Library Journal for Easy Innocence. Well done--great new mystery, great hero--hope everyone gets a chance to read it-- it's on sale now

Sara

Persistence

By Barbara D'Amato

English author John Creasey is said to have received 743 rejection slips before he got an acceptance and a publisher. He is famous for his productivity, publishing 564 books in the years following, using thirteen pen names.

How do you take 743 rejections? It is often said that being told your novel is no good is like being told your baby is ugly. Well, maybe. But usually when that happens you usually keep the baby. A writer may just give up.

Rejection?

Libby Hellman has a rejection story:

‘After finishing my second novel, I got an agent. A reputable, solid, NY agent. He took the mss and submitted it to everyone. It was roundly rejected by everyone (in retrospect… it should have been. It wasn’t ready) But I didn’t know that at the time. Six months later he called and said, “Libby, I haven’t been able to sell your mss.” I replied, “Oh, that’s okay. I’ve been working on a sequel, and it’s better. The characters are more developed, the plot is tighter, everything’s better.” He said, “No. I don’t think you heard me. I don’t think it will sell. In fact, I think you should change your stories. Change your characters. Change your voice. And change agents too, because I don’t want to represent you anymore.”

‘After I picked myself off the floor, I ended up doing what he suggested. The result was “An Eye for Murder.” I got another agent once I completed the mss, and she sold it 10 weeks later.’

Sara Paretsky says, ‘I had 37 rejections before I sold my first novel. Most of them were oral to my agent, but 13 put them in writing to me..."wooden, talky, derivative, Chicago setting of regional interest only" are a few that I remember. As for how I handled it--and how I handle current rejection of new story ideas, or bad reviews--Oscar Brown, Jr's "But I was Cool," pretty much sums it up.’

Kevin Guilfoile says, ‘I don't know if this counts but when John Warner and I agreed to write MY FIRST PRESIDENTIARY (which had to be produced in less three weeks following the 2000 election) we basically told the publisher that we could illustrate it because we didn't want to split the money with a third person. Unfortunately, neither John nor I had ever drawn anything in our entire lives except for Chemistry notebook doodles of Asia album covers. We basically flipped a coin and I lost and so I ended up illustrating the book. Or doing my best anyway.

‘After MFP made a couple bestseller lists I received a call from an editor at a major national political magazine. He said their Pulitzer-winning cartoonist was moving on to a new gig and they were looking for someone to take his place. He asked if I would be interested in auditioning for the job by submitting a handful of cartoons.

‘Figuring he had been impressed by my work in the book, I was suddenly very full of myself. I put together a few single panel gags and sent them off. The next day the editor called me back and he said, "Um, this is an embarrassing question but do you not know how to draw?"’

Sure, these are people who went on to publish. But suppose they’d given up at the first, or seventh rejection? Oh, maybe we could have survived without Kevin’s drawings. My good friend, the late Hugh Holton, had written seven seven-hundred page novels before he sold on – it was number five. Then he sold six and seven, but not the earlier ones. As he said later, “They weren’t polished.”

So, bottom line. We aren’t born knowing how to write a novel. How do you get published? Persist.

Although I kind of grieve for those unpublished Guilfoile drawings.