What catches your attention when you're browsing through the local bookstore? A trendy cover? A kiosk display? I confess, I'm a sucker for both of those. But for me, the bottom line is always the book itself. Story concept and execution are what get me to buy books.
So, I thought I'd just share some first passages from books that I loved.
From The Black Echo by Michael Connelly:
"The boy couldn't see in the dark, but he didn't need to. Experience and long practice told him it was good. Nice and even. Smooth strokes, moving his whole arm while gently rolling his wrist. Keep the marble moving. No runs. Beautiful."
From The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins:
"When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed in with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping."
From This Glittering World by T. Greenwood:
"Winter came early to Flagstaff that year. Ben hadn't split the firewood that lay in a cluttered heap in the driveway. He hadn't cleaned out the chimney or brought salt to melt the snow from the sidewalk in front of the house. Sara hadn't gotten the winter coats out of storage, hadn't taken down the artificial spiderwebs and plastic decals she'd hung in the windows for Halloween. the harvest dummy sat ill-prepared and coatless on the porch. The jack-o-lanterns hadn't even started to bruise and rot when the first storm brought twelve inches of snow. They weren't prepared."
From Winter's Bone by Daniel Woodrell:
"Red Dolly stood at break of day on her cold front steps and smelled coming flurries and saw meat. Meat hung from trees across the creek. The carcasses hung pale of flesh with a fatty gleam from low limbs of saplings in the side yards. Three halt haggard houses formed a kneeling rank on the far creekside and each had two or more skinned torsos dangling by rope from sagged limbs, venison left to the weather for two nights and three days so the early blossoming of decay might round the flavor."
What about you? What gets you to pick and read/buy a book?
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Monday, October 3, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
6 Things That Make Me Toss Aside A Book In Frustration
I must confess, if a book doesn’t hold my interest, I stop reading. I’m limited in how much time I have to read, so I try to read only the best books. Some things that will make me stop reading are:
1. If I can’t connect with the main character
2. Sloppy storytelling/poor writing
3. Plot threads that don’t lead anywhere
4. Meandering plot
5. Implausibility
6. And this one will cause me to not buy the author’s next book: an ending that wasn’t as phenomenal as the beginning.
How about you? Do you stop reading a book if it doesn't meet your expectations? Do you agree with my list or do you have another list that you'd like to share?
1. If I can’t connect with the main character
2. Sloppy storytelling/poor writing
3. Plot threads that don’t lead anywhere
4. Meandering plot
5. Implausibility
6. And this one will cause me to not buy the author’s next book: an ending that wasn’t as phenomenal as the beginning.
How about you? Do you stop reading a book if it doesn't meet your expectations? Do you agree with my list or do you have another list that you'd like to share?
Friday, June 24, 2011
10 Things I Like To See In A Good Book
I love reading and I’m always delighted when I discover a new author or a new book. Things that I look for are:
1. Extraordinary writing
2. Captivating voice
3. Excellent story-telling ability
4. Realistic characters
5. Believable world-building
6. The magical ability to make me forget that I’m reading a book
7. A story or character that takes me to a new world
8. Well-crafted metaphors and themes
9. Moral value
10. An ending that lives up to the beginning
As an author, I'm curious what you look for in a book. Do you agree with me or am I way off base? I'd love to hear your opinions!
1. Extraordinary writing
2. Captivating voice
3. Excellent story-telling ability
4. Realistic characters
5. Believable world-building
6. The magical ability to make me forget that I’m reading a book
7. A story or character that takes me to a new world
8. Well-crafted metaphors and themes
9. Moral value
10. An ending that lives up to the beginning
As an author, I'm curious what you look for in a book. Do you agree with me or am I way off base? I'd love to hear your opinions!
Monday, April 4, 2011
This is how it starts…
My computer screen was pink. I got about 4 hours sleep the night before. I just finished a new manuscript and was waiting to hear back from my agent. Meanwhile, my second novel was coming out in a few months and I needed to get ready for an upcoming conference.
So, in reality, I should have been taking a few days off from writing. For good behavior. Or for moderately good behavior.
Instead, an idea for another novel (yes, that would be on top of the four other novel ideas that I already have) came to me in the middle of the night. Hence one of the reasons why I didn’t get much sleep.
I’m blaming the pink computer screen on my cat.
Anyway, I only had a few minutes and didn’t have enough time to fix my computer, so I wrote two pages of what could be the beginning of my next novel. In long hand. Now, I plan to type those pages into my computer—for me, no story is real until it shows up on my computer screen. For the past several days, I’ve been thinking about the characters, about the story, about the possible complications, and I am really liking this book idea.
A lot.
That’s usually how my story ideas come. When I really don’t have time for them. When I’m supposed to be doing my taxes or cleaning my house. Or sleeping. For me to commit eight months to a year for any story idea, I have to fall in love with it.
Right now, I have a really big crush on this one. So, with fingers crossed, wish me well as I dive back into that land of words.
I may not come up to the surface again for a very long time.
So, in reality, I should have been taking a few days off from writing. For good behavior. Or for moderately good behavior.
Instead, an idea for another novel (yes, that would be on top of the four other novel ideas that I already have) came to me in the middle of the night. Hence one of the reasons why I didn’t get much sleep.
I’m blaming the pink computer screen on my cat.
Anyway, I only had a few minutes and didn’t have enough time to fix my computer, so I wrote two pages of what could be the beginning of my next novel. In long hand. Now, I plan to type those pages into my computer—for me, no story is real until it shows up on my computer screen. For the past several days, I’ve been thinking about the characters, about the story, about the possible complications, and I am really liking this book idea.
A lot.
That’s usually how my story ideas come. When I really don’t have time for them. When I’m supposed to be doing my taxes or cleaning my house. Or sleeping. For me to commit eight months to a year for any story idea, I have to fall in love with it.
Right now, I have a really big crush on this one. So, with fingers crossed, wish me well as I dive back into that land of words.
I may not come up to the surface again for a very long time.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
The Afterlife Evolution
I wish I was one of those people who could slam out a book in three months, whose first draft was pretty near perfect. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. The truth of the matter is, I drive my writing group nuts. What book is this, they’ll ask after I start reading a few pages for critique. Oh, it’s the same book, I’ll tell them, just completely different.
I have a tendency to write and rewrite and then write some more, changing names and moving characters around and slashing plot lines. While it might seem like I’m having a great time, throwing away thousands of words at a time, I’m not.
I’m driving everyone I know, me included, nuts. They probably all wish that I would take up something meaningful to do in my spare instead of write. Something like playing miniature golf. Or raising bonsai trees. Or studying organic chemistry.
Just in case you don’t believe me, listen to the genesis of Afterlife: The Resurrection Chronicles.
In the first draft—under the title, White Burn—this story took place on Mars. (Do I hear snickers already?) It was a detective story, where the main character was tracking down a cult leader who had stolen a serum that could raise the dead. Besides falling into the hands of a dangerous cult leader, this serum also happened to be stolen by a gang leader, which led to one grisly gang war—a little bit like The Night of the Living Dead. Only on Mars.
Needless to say, that book didn’t garner much attention from agents or editors.
In the second draft—under the title, Once to Die—the story was moved to Los Angeles. Here, I had a homicide detective, a woman named Addy, chasing a serial killer who could raise the dead. This story must have been tighter and better written, because at least a few editors talked to me at this point. They even smiled. Right before they told me, no way were they going to publish this book. One of them was even kind enough to give me a few pointers. He said something like, try setting it in the future and throw out everything except the resurrection drug.
I confess, I’m the brooding sort, so I mulled and groused over his well-meaning rejection. I thought about it for so long that I actually came up with a story idea based on that simple one-line suggestion.
In Afterlife, I built a future where the technology for resurrection has been around for awhile, long enough for it to have a serious impact on our culture, our major world religions, our family system, our judicial system, you name it. After working on the story for a month or so, I realized that if I removed this one small element—death—from our culture, it changed everything.
Writing the actual book took me about a year and a half, with the prerequisite three-to-four month period of writer’s block tossed in the mix. Once I found my agent, Kimberley Cameron, she sold my book in a relatively short time period to Diana Gill of Eos/HarperCollins. I think we sold the book in August, 2009, and the book came out in September, 2010.
Afterlife is a Hydra of sorts: one part urban fantasy, one part romance, one part science fiction, one part mystery. It’s a tale about a man who watches over people during that fragile first week after resurrection, when memories from previous lives are still sifting to the surface. And it’s a story about the woman who has just resurrected, who holds a secret in her subconscious that could change the world.
But for me, it’s a story that tells me that my wild and disorganized writing process somehow manages to work. Even though I drive a lot of people nutty along the way.
I have a tendency to write and rewrite and then write some more, changing names and moving characters around and slashing plot lines. While it might seem like I’m having a great time, throwing away thousands of words at a time, I’m not.
I’m driving everyone I know, me included, nuts. They probably all wish that I would take up something meaningful to do in my spare instead of write. Something like playing miniature golf. Or raising bonsai trees. Or studying organic chemistry.
Just in case you don’t believe me, listen to the genesis of Afterlife: The Resurrection Chronicles.
In the first draft—under the title, White Burn—this story took place on Mars. (Do I hear snickers already?) It was a detective story, where the main character was tracking down a cult leader who had stolen a serum that could raise the dead. Besides falling into the hands of a dangerous cult leader, this serum also happened to be stolen by a gang leader, which led to one grisly gang war—a little bit like The Night of the Living Dead. Only on Mars.
Needless to say, that book didn’t garner much attention from agents or editors.
In the second draft—under the title, Once to Die—the story was moved to Los Angeles. Here, I had a homicide detective, a woman named Addy, chasing a serial killer who could raise the dead. This story must have been tighter and better written, because at least a few editors talked to me at this point. They even smiled. Right before they told me, no way were they going to publish this book. One of them was even kind enough to give me a few pointers. He said something like, try setting it in the future and throw out everything except the resurrection drug.
I confess, I’m the brooding sort, so I mulled and groused over his well-meaning rejection. I thought about it for so long that I actually came up with a story idea based on that simple one-line suggestion.
In Afterlife, I built a future where the technology for resurrection has been around for awhile, long enough for it to have a serious impact on our culture, our major world religions, our family system, our judicial system, you name it. After working on the story for a month or so, I realized that if I removed this one small element—death—from our culture, it changed everything.
Writing the actual book took me about a year and a half, with the prerequisite three-to-four month period of writer’s block tossed in the mix. Once I found my agent, Kimberley Cameron, she sold my book in a relatively short time period to Diana Gill of Eos/HarperCollins. I think we sold the book in August, 2009, and the book came out in September, 2010.
Afterlife is a Hydra of sorts: one part urban fantasy, one part romance, one part science fiction, one part mystery. It’s a tale about a man who watches over people during that fragile first week after resurrection, when memories from previous lives are still sifting to the surface. And it’s a story about the woman who has just resurrected, who holds a secret in her subconscious that could change the world.
But for me, it’s a story that tells me that my wild and disorganized writing process somehow manages to work. Even though I drive a lot of people nutty along the way.
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly or What I Learned on My Trip
I just got back from a ten-day trip to Illinois, land of my youth. It began with a battle between my plane and a herd of thunderclouds. Fortunately, my plane won. Along the way—despite time zone differences and the temptation of home-baked pies—I managed to learn a few things, things I probably should have known long ago.
Here goes:
1. Family is a good thing. I may have written a book (Afterlife: The Resurrection Chronicles) where the future paints a bleak picture for families, but in reality I treasure mine. They’re wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for a warehouse full of clones.
2. Cicadas can drive you nuts. They may seem romantic, when you live a thousand miles away, but in reality they’re irritating as hell. You can hear them whirring and humming and buzzing in the trees, even when you’re inside the car with the windows rolled up and the music turned on.
3. Be prepared. At any point in time, a 45-minute flight can turn into a 3-hour flight. In the future, I vow to carry snacks, Dramamine, Xanax and the Book of Psalms with me on every plane. Yea, though I fly through the valley overshadowed by thunderstorms…
4. Hot, humid weather feels great. For about two days. Then it feels a little bit like hell. Then it feels a lot like hell. Then it makes hell seem like a vacation.
5. When stressed, brownies function almost exactly like Xanax. Take note, however, that this method of therapy requires a month of hard exercise to work off the added weight.
6. My house is never as nice as the house I’m visiting. I vow to accept that fact and move on. I will not lust after big back yards, garages, plush carpets, multiple bedrooms, basements, spacious kitchens or walk-in pantries. I. Will. Not. Lust.
7. When flying, real books trump iPads, iPods, laptops, Kindles, eReaders, Nooks and cell phones. All those cool techno gadgets have to be put away during take-off and landing, which can add up to almost an hour of flight time. I purchased a copy of Michael Connelly’s 9 Dragons for my 2 return flights.
8. I need to find a better kennel. Dogs should not smell like urine. Ever. My car should not smell like urine, either. Dogs should be given all their meds, on time. Left-over meds (including those that weren’t administered and were quite expensive) should be returned when dogs leave the kennel. Grrrr.
9. I don’t really like traveling. Wait. I already knew this one. Okay, let’s say that traveling isn’t all that bad, but coming home rocks. Big time.
10. My house is a mess. I left in a flurry of 1,001 last-minute details, so I didn’t have time for my traditional “clean the house before you leave” ritual. In retrospect, I truly understand the beauty of my obsessive traditions.
Here goes:
1. Family is a good thing. I may have written a book (Afterlife: The Resurrection Chronicles) where the future paints a bleak picture for families, but in reality I treasure mine. They’re wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for a warehouse full of clones.
2. Cicadas can drive you nuts. They may seem romantic, when you live a thousand miles away, but in reality they’re irritating as hell. You can hear them whirring and humming and buzzing in the trees, even when you’re inside the car with the windows rolled up and the music turned on.
3. Be prepared. At any point in time, a 45-minute flight can turn into a 3-hour flight. In the future, I vow to carry snacks, Dramamine, Xanax and the Book of Psalms with me on every plane. Yea, though I fly through the valley overshadowed by thunderstorms…
4. Hot, humid weather feels great. For about two days. Then it feels a little bit like hell. Then it feels a lot like hell. Then it makes hell seem like a vacation.
5. When stressed, brownies function almost exactly like Xanax. Take note, however, that this method of therapy requires a month of hard exercise to work off the added weight.
6. My house is never as nice as the house I’m visiting. I vow to accept that fact and move on. I will not lust after big back yards, garages, plush carpets, multiple bedrooms, basements, spacious kitchens or walk-in pantries. I. Will. Not. Lust.
7. When flying, real books trump iPads, iPods, laptops, Kindles, eReaders, Nooks and cell phones. All those cool techno gadgets have to be put away during take-off and landing, which can add up to almost an hour of flight time. I purchased a copy of Michael Connelly’s 9 Dragons for my 2 return flights.
8. I need to find a better kennel. Dogs should not smell like urine. Ever. My car should not smell like urine, either. Dogs should be given all their meds, on time. Left-over meds (including those that weren’t administered and were quite expensive) should be returned when dogs leave the kennel. Grrrr.
9. I don’t really like traveling. Wait. I already knew this one. Okay, let’s say that traveling isn’t all that bad, but coming home rocks. Big time.
10. My house is a mess. I left in a flurry of 1,001 last-minute details, so I didn’t have time for my traditional “clean the house before you leave” ritual. In retrospect, I truly understand the beauty of my obsessive traditions.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Thirteen fairy tales you never heard about
1. Jack and the Cornstalk
2. Three Blind Flies
3. Snow White and the Seven Drive Through Restaurants
4. Sleeping Beauty’s-Only-Skin-Deep
5. Hansel and Gretel Don’t Live Here Anymore
6. The Three Little Lemmings
7. The Blizzard of Oz
8. The Little Mermaid Chair
9. Goldilocks and the Three Aliens Who Pretended to be Bears
10. Alice in Blunderland
11. Beauty and the Bodybuilder
12. The Elves and the Jimmy Choo Shoemaker
13. The Emperor’s New Cloak of Invisibility
2. Three Blind Flies
3. Snow White and the Seven Drive Through Restaurants
4. Sleeping Beauty’s-Only-Skin-Deep
5. Hansel and Gretel Don’t Live Here Anymore
6. The Three Little Lemmings
7. The Blizzard of Oz
8. The Little Mermaid Chair
9. Goldilocks and the Three Aliens Who Pretended to be Bears
10. Alice in Blunderland
11. Beauty and the Bodybuilder
12. The Elves and the Jimmy Choo Shoemaker
13. The Emperor’s New Cloak of Invisibility
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The Price of Freedom
When my father finally came back from his quest he was no longer my father. The horrible thing is I wasn’t myself either. I wish it was easy to explain, wish I could put it all into a neat and tidy box, wrapped up in pretty paper and ribbon. Wish I could sit down and open that box by myself someday, to see if the end somehow mirrors the beginning, to see if there was any foreshadowing that I could have picked up on.
But the bottom line is there was a price for my father’s freedom.
And it was me.
I don’t belong to him anymore. Don’t belong to anyone now.
It took years for me to buy my own freedom, hiding bits of copper and silver that I earned on the streets. Took even longer for me to unlearn my new foreign accent, to replace it with something liquid and elegant, something that flows off the tongue. And then there were the months spent practicing the fine art of Kundow, the local combination of dance and self-defense.
And finally, with my face painted, I donned the traditional dress of a warrior princess and performed every night down at the Painted Pony. Knowing that one day he would walk in the door.
I saw it in my dreams and I knew it would happen.
The end of my father’s quest was destined to be the beginning of mine.
But the bottom line is there was a price for my father’s freedom.
And it was me.
I don’t belong to him anymore. Don’t belong to anyone now.
It took years for me to buy my own freedom, hiding bits of copper and silver that I earned on the streets. Took even longer for me to unlearn my new foreign accent, to replace it with something liquid and elegant, something that flows off the tongue. And then there were the months spent practicing the fine art of Kundow, the local combination of dance and self-defense.
And finally, with my face painted, I donned the traditional dress of a warrior princess and performed every night down at the Painted Pony. Knowing that one day he would walk in the door.
I saw it in my dreams and I knew it would happen.
The end of my father’s quest was destined to be the beginning of mine.
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