by Lynne | Mar 5, 2013 | Uncategorized
A Trip to the Labyrinth
I was pondering what my blog topic would be this week and chanced upon this article in the LA Times. How wonderful to know places like this still exist. San Diego, my home town, is about two hours south of LA, so guess where I’ll be going soon?
Of course as an indie writer and e-book reader, I don’t buy as many traditional books as I used to. Still, just the look and feel of them trip a feeling of childish delight. And the smell. There’s nothing like the aroma of old, musty fusty books. Yess!
Although this store in LA is a bit unusual, (do you think?) there are wonderful havens for books everywhere. Check out the one in your town and see if it doesn’t make you feel nostalgic.
http://www.latimes.com/features/books/jacketcopy/la-ca-0303-last-bookstore-pictures,0,1153539.photogallery
by Lynne | Feb 26, 2013 | Uncategorized
Fading Fad or New Reality in Literature
I was perusing my FB writer/reader group posts and was overwhelmed with the many books being published on zombies, vampires and an occasional werewolf (I’ll leave him for another time.) Unlike the pure science fiction creatures that arrive from other worlds with the intention of destroying us, zombies and vampires are beasts of a different color. Why are we so obsessed with them? Do they reflect something inside of us, something dark, potent and even mystical? Or do they offer us the dream of immortality?
Zombies. Even the word conjures a tingle of dread up your arms. Creepy, ugly, gruesome distortions of humans, a parody of living beings. But beyond the changes in the body, the mind morphs into something horrid as well. Zombies are devoid of humanity, compassion and spirit. They’re dead in every sense of the word.
Historically, zombies evolved from the West African religion Vodun and its new world counterpart, Voodoo or Voudoun. Behind zombie mythology, however, is the reality that these are not actually persons raised from the dead, but living humans who’ve been drugged with hallucinogens and subjected to powerful rituals. They are literally, “the walking dead.”
Thanks to filmmakers like George Romero, “Night of the Living Dead,” a classic that always had me wondering who the zombies really were – the ones creeping out of the graves or those hiding from them– you remember Barbra. This film gave rise to many new versions in literature and movies. The typical zombie eats flesh and craves brains. Unlike vampires who don’t each much, but drink an awful lot. Fortunately zombies can be killed (again) by a shot or blow to the head. Decapitation works well too.
Vampires. They’ve been around a long time, since legends spawned by the real-life monster, Vlad the Impaler. Perhaps the most famous, Bram Stoker’s Count Dracula, written in 1897, was surely the father of all blood suckers. Since then, hundreds, perhaps thousands of vampire books and movies have followed, about Dracula and other vampires, each with its own audience of blood-lusty fans. Until the Count, however, vampires of folklore were often ugly creatures, pale and smelly. Think Nosferatu. Bela Lugosi changed that with his handsome (hmmm?) visage, black cape and Romanian accent. Rather glamorous if you like the type.
Books by Laurell K. Hamilton and series like “True Blood” have taken vampires to a new level, one that has turned the legend into an unfortunate reality in many young people’s minds. I expect many actually believe in vampire lore: that vampires can be killed by stakes to the heart or by sunlight falling upon them. They are repelled by the cross and other holy objects, and by garlic (you must admit, the smell of garlic can overwhelm even those of us who don’t claim to be vampires.)
In Anne Rice’s “Interview With a Vampire,” we find a memorable and sympathetic vampire in the character, Louis de Pointe du Lac. Lestat de Lioncourt is a bit less sympathetic but alluring nonetheless. Rice’s series is one that reaches audiences beyond young adult. It grips mainstream audiences today much as it did in the 70s, despite the criticism she received for her portrayal of vampires as sad, pathetic souls. The “Twilight” series follows this lead with its young vampires, good, evil, hateful. . . and very darn handsome and likeable. (See my last post on “Memorable Villains.)
Think about this when you have absolutely nothing else to think about. Anne Rice was once asked the question: “What happens if a vampire bites a zombie?” Her answer, in all seriousness: “It would be catastrophic,” she concluded, because vampire blood would make a zombie much stronger. (We all know this, right?) She continued. “But the vampire would just spit the zombie blood out.” Ptooey.
Personally, I’m a vampire vs. a zombie fan. I draw the line, however, at the notion of Abraham Lincoln being a vampire hunter. I’d rather just stick with Buffy.
by Lynne | Feb 18, 2013 | Uncategorized
Loving to Hate the Bad Guy
Protagonists are characters you mostly like or you wouldn’t keep reading (or watching.) What about antagonists? A killer who tortures their victim, cuts them up into little pieces while they’re still alive and buries them in their family’s backyard, is pretty rotten. But for those of us who read crime fiction and watch “Criminal Minds,” it seems these killers’ MO’s are becoming predictable and rather ho hum. They’re almost “too” bad.
So what constitutes a memorable bad guy? Stephen King might say he (or she) is one who plays on your fears, particularly your childhood fears. The dark. The bogeyman. Someone hiding under your bed. Ratchet that up a notch. Your peers bullying you. Your mother abandoning you. Your father abusing you.
“Memorable” bad guys, however, are not all one hundred percent evil. They often and should have, a few redeeming, even seductive, qualities, or a sympathetic side that readers can identify with. If they were simply hateful, ugly, sinful, vicious, you would tire of them quickly. Look at a few villains that are a syncopation of vile and virtuous.
One that immediately comes to mind is Hannibal Lecter. In both books and movies, Lecter is a blend of savagery and sophistication. He’s charming, brilliant, and has a certain panache that draws you to him. Yet, he is clearly despicable. And, although he scares the Bejeezus out of Starling, he never hurts her.
Dexter, the Showtime series about a serial killer, has given villains a bad name. We all like Dexter and root for him to get the “other” bad guy. Dexter gives voice . . . and action . . . to our own feelings of impotence, of wanting revenge. How does he compare, however, with John Lithgow as Arthur Mitchell, “The Trinity Killer” in a past season? Mitchell, too, was likeable, personable, sociable. And mean with a capital M. Vile and virtuous. Well, vile and less vile.
If you’ve been hooked on Downton Abbey as I have, two characters stand out as villains. Thomas, the footman/valet, and Mrs. O’Brian, the ladies’ maid. I despised Thomas through the first two seasons, despite his good looks and service as a nurse for the wounded returned from The Great War. Yet, for a brief moment, I felt sympathy for him when he burst into tears after learning one of the ladies of the house, Sybil, died. I actually liked him. Now, Mrs. O’Brian, on the other hand, is going to have to work harder for me to like her. She, so far, is rather one-dimensional and has few or no redeeming qualities. If you detect any, please let me know.
A perfect example of a pleasant, good-natured scoundrel is Tom Ripley in the Patricia Highsmith mystery series. Tom’s a handsome, affable, yet frosty killer with zero conscience. He disarms the protagonists with his charm until. . . bam. . . it’s too late. I still kind of like him. Similarly, the character, Roger “Verbal” Kint (Kevin Spacey’s role) in The Usual Suspects. Kint is a man physically disabled and emotionally fragile . . . or so we think. The author has created a fabulous artifice.
Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow gives us a stereotypical bad guy, Disney-style (aren’t all pirates bad?) How can you help but love the guy? Then again, he’s Johnny Depp. Need I say more?
Think about the antagonists in the next book you read or movie you watch. Do you love them? Do you hate them? Or do you love to hate them?
by Lynne | Feb 10, 2013 | Uncategorized
Why Bad People Get Away With Bad Deeds
The door to escape was locked. When the fire broke out in the Triangle Factory, March 25, 1911, scores of factory workers, mostly women and girls, rushed to the Washington Place exit door. What followed was bedlam of the highest order.
In the end 146 workers jumped to their death or were asphyxiated by smoke and eventually burned to death in the inferno. Several weeks later, in a sealed grand jury room, witness after witness testified to the fact that the door to escape was locked. The law said that factory doors should not be locked during business hours, but the position of a heavy, rectangular bolt proved the door had, indeed, been locked. Why? To keep the workers from stealing, slipping out with a shirtwaist (ladies blouse at the time) beneath their coat, or a scrap of fabric, a spool of thread.
“Fire fighters from Ladder Company 20 arrived at the Triangle Waist Company minutes after the alarm was sounded and sprayed water at the burning Asch Building hoping that the dampening mist, too weak to put out the fire by the time it reached the top floors, would cool the panicked workers who had been forced to window ledges by extreme heat, smoke, flames and blocked exits.” Photographer: Brown Brothers, March 25, 1911 Kheel Center image identifier5780pb39f20aahttp://www.ilr.cornell.edu/trianglefire/primary/photosIllustrations/slideshow.html?image_id=745&sec_id=3#screen
So who would pay for all these lives?
The Triangle owners, Isaac Harris and Max Blanck were already busy at work in their new factory. The grand jury indicted them. They would stand trial. But would they be held accountable?
After hiring an influential attorney, Blanck and Harris were released on $25,000 bail. Trial began December 4, 1911, nine months after the fire. Witnesses for both sides were called. Many survivors testified. The trial went on for a little over three weeks.
Late on December 27, after deliberating for less than two hours, the jury returned a verdict. Not guilty. The crowd roared in disbelief. How could this be? These rich men were responsible for the deaths of so many. Where was justice in all this?
Life is not fair. Death is not fair. Who can we blame? The rich for buying their way out of jams? The poor for not fighting back? If we look back at these events now, over a hundred years later, we see that actually a great deal of good resulted. Certainly not for the dead or the families of the dead, but for future generations. New laws were created that took safety, working conditions, and child welfare into account. (See my earlier blogs on this.)
Must it take a tragedy to change things for the better? Maybe. Even then with new legislation in place, we know that history repeats itself. In Bangladesh recently, fires similar to the Triangle killed many workers. Bad people will somehow manage to get away with doing bad things.
History is bursting with examples of this, giving writers a perfect starting point for creating villains. The essence of a good story is based on a universal truth — the premise of good vs. evil. Today, modern science can unravel the old mysteries, uncover the old bad guys (and good guys) and lay to rest untruths perpetuated about them. My books reflect my fascination with this theme: historical mysteries solved by modern technology.
by Lynne | Feb 4, 2013 | Uncategorized
Writing is Tough Work
A friend recently asked me: What is your writing day like? Here’s my answer:
I sit down at my beautiful new all-in-one touchscreen computer around 8:30 a.m.
Oops, forgot my coffee, so I go back to kitchen for a fresh cup. Back at the computer, I first:
Check emails, Facebook messages, Twitter messages, LinkedIn messages
Respond to emails, FB, Twitter and LI messages.
Check my web dashboard to see number of hits and/or comments from the previous day. Oh, I sometimes take a peek at Goodreads as well.
Check my calendar to see if today is blog writing day. Whew, not yet.
Now my coffee is cold. Back to the kitchen.
On the way, I stop and pet my dogs who are taking their morning nap.
Okay, back at the computer, I now open the latest draft of my book, stare at the page I left off and drink my java. A chirping sound goes off. Ahh, a text message. I check my cell, realize there are several messages to respond to, one of which is a reminder that I have a Board meeting the next day. Yikes. Need to get ready for that since I’m the Board President.
An hour later, back staring at the draft of my book when a gmail comes in. It’s regarding a court report I submitted on my CASA boy. (I’m a court-appointed special advocate for foster youth.) A few questions to answer there.
Back to my book. Now my dogs have gotten into their toy basket and yanked out their stuffy toys. They are both staring at me with scruffy dogs hanging out of their mouths. I get down on the floor and roll around with them for a while – to lower my blood pressure, of course.
Now, while I’m up and away from my computer, it’s probably time for a bit of stretching. Yoga, perfect. Just forty minutes will do.
Finally, back staring at the last paragraph of my book, which, by the way, I’ve read nine times now and have to read again. This time my brain is in gear and I try to concentrate. Argh. I’m stuck. I riffle through my files and hunt for my outline for inspiration. Yesss. I start to type and type and type. One paragraph, two, then a page, then two. I’m on a roll. I stop, re-read, re-write, re-read and re-write, until I have one solid page I’m pleased with (until I re-read it again tomorrow.)
Hurrah.
It’s time for lunch. With the friend who asked what my writing day is like.
by Lynne | Jan 29, 2013 | Uncategorized
How Human is Human?
I just finished reading the latest Michael Connelly book, “The Black Box.” Frankly, I wasn’t riveted and when I tried to figure out why, I realized it was because Harry Bosch had become soft. His relationship with his daughter played a large role in the story and it annoyed me. He was much too solicitous of her feelings. Nah. He’s an LA cop.
Okay, you say. It’s nice to see he has feelings for his daughter and wants to make her happy. And, you may be tired of the clichéd cops: drunk, surly, never around for family, whatever. I agree with that to some extent. But Harry was almost too human here. This made me think about other books in which I originally liked the characters but began to lose interest when the plot, or mystery, became mired in relationship issues.
Inspector Lynley, Elizabeth George’s character, is a perfect example. Her first books had me hooked. Great plots, well-drawn but human characters with personal foibles lurking about. But once Lynley fell for this Helen woman, suddenly the stories (the cases he had to solve) took a back seat and the relationship was up front. No thanks. If I wanted to read about relationships for half a book, I wouldn’t buy a mystery. I’d watch a series like Downton Abbey, where the characters, very much “real” people, are the main story. Or read one of my favorite authors, Anne Rivers Siddons, whose novels are about people and their relationships with other people.
When I read a mystery, I want to cogitate, figure out whodunit and why. The more pieces that are missing, the better. Sure, I like good characters but in mysteries, I enjoy them second to the mystery. Val McDermid’s Tony Hill series is a great example of both. Tony, a police psychologist, is quirky and weird, and his relationship with the police inspector, Carol Jordan, leaves you wondering what’s going on. But it doesn’t usurp the story. The crime they’re solving together is key.
How real should characters be? Since most people are relatively banal and their lives somewhat boring, a book character must be more than “realistic.” Sue Grafton is an example of humdrum to me. I could care less that she cleans her bathroom every time she’s stressed and certainly don’t want to know the cleanser she uses.
Characters must be colorful, able to be distinguished from another character — perhaps by their speech patterns, their looks, or their mannerisms. Again, their peculiarities don’t need to take center stage all the time. Just on occasion. You want to know them but not at the expense of the mystery.
It doesn’t take much to paint a picture of an interesting character, either. A roll of the eyes, a huff of breath, an about-face and stalking off can do the job. Tony Hill carries his paperwork in a blue plastic bag rather than a leather briefcase. This tells you oodles about him but doesn’t take up pages.
I had a different reaction to “The DaVinci Code.” Here plot, action, adventure, solving the puzzle are paramount. I felt the characters were quite wooden and mechanical and there was little chemistry between the male and female leads. Now, you think, which way do you want it? Characters or plot? Darn, I want both, but I want both done well. The storyline of The DaVinci Code is grand, the characters mediocre. Can you have both? I don’t know. Ask Dan Brown. (Catch him on the way to the bank!)
So, Harry Bosch, yell at your daughter once in a while when she gets on your nerves. Be human. Be real. But do your job and focus on the mystery. I might like you better next time. If I give you another chance.
