Joyce Simons

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Does Where You Write Influence What You Write?

I used to work for a boss who told me that she could put me in the middle of a minefield and it wouldn’t keep me from doing my job. But not everyone is as insensitive to their surroundings as I used to be. In fact, I’ve become quite sensitive to them. Right now, there’s a thunderstorm brewing outside my window and though it’s still daytime, it looks like night out there. I can hear the rataplan of raindrops being beaten against my window by the same high winds that just toppled my rose arbor. It’s the perfect climate for killing someone on the page. And since my surroundings are cozy, I’ll be carrying out that activity in a manner consistent with cozy mysteries (no graphic sex or violence).

But what if I were in a different setting? If I were sitting in room piled high with Victoriana, might I be writing about dropping arsenic in a teacup? Would a beach house with an ocean view inspire me to introduce a man-eating shark into my story? Would some dark and dank corner of a concrete jungle entice me to stick a hypodermic needle in someone’s arm?

In other words, does where we write influence what we write?

Where Virginia Woolf wrote
Where Virginia Woolf wrote

According to an article on TheAtlantic.com, it took F. Scott Fitzgerald nearly a decade to finish Tender Is the Night, in part because his peripatetic lifestyle kept him bouncing around continents. When he finally settled in one place, he wrote in “dark, disheveled rooms with a bottle of gin in a nearby drawer.” That could easily explain why his novel is so bleak. The Wikipedia article about it claims the bleakness reflects the darkest years of the author’s life. But it could also be argued that it reflects the darkness of his surroundings as well.

The article on TheAtlantic.com cites various papers and studies that examine the effects of one’s surroundings on one’s creativity. Here’s a quick recap of the elements that can stimulate your creativity:

  • Darkness
  • Plentiful noise
  • Plentiful booze
  • Dim lighting
  • A messy desk
  • No desk
  • Disorder
  • Ambient noise similar to what you’d hear at your local Starbucks
  • Rooms with high ceilings

The article also suggests that writing by hand, taking a walk, and getting a little drunk can promote abstract thinking, which is so critical to creativity, especially if your starting point is “What if?”

Of course, your environment can’t make you creative if you’re not creative in the first place—all it can do is inspire and enhance. As Fitzgerald wrote, “You’ve got to sell your heart, your strongest reactions, not the little minor things that only touch you lightly, the little experiences that you might tell at dinner.”

So I vote yes, where we write influences what we write. But you be the judge. Check out this amusing compilation of famous authors’ bedrooms and decide which decorative style inspires you most:

https://www.homeadvisor.com/r/literary-home-decor-ideas-from-8-famous-writers-bedrooms/
https://www.homeadvisor.com/r/literary-home-decor-ideas-from-8-famous-writers-bedrooms/

Thanks this week go to the wonderful folks who run the Writers’ Studio at Bainbridge Artisan Resource Network (BARN). It’s always a pleasure to pop in for a workshop, panel discussion, or writer’s salon. And it’s the folks at BARN who first introduced me to the floor plans of famous writers’ bedrooms. Hope you enjoy looking at them as much as I did!

 

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If Patience is a Virtue, Call Me a Sinner

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve sent out about a dozen query emails in search of a literary agent. I diligently researched each agent to make sure they were a good fit for my novel. I reviewed their recent deals to make sure they place their authors with established publishing houses. I read their tweets and any mention of them on industry websites to make sure I’ll enjoy working with my dream agent for the long haul.

And just when I was gearing up to cast my net farther and wider to draw in a fresh batch of agents to query, my editor suggested I stop and wait. Better to get feedback from the agents I already queried than to keep on querying.

Say what?

They say that patience is a virtue. But they also say that God helps those who help themselves. So which is it? And is it an either/or? Or is it a matter of helping yourself as far as a sensible stopping point, and then patiently waiting for the universe to do its bit?

When I attended the Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference earlier this month, I asked some of the bestselling authors I met how they found representation at the start of their careers. One author told me she wrote her first novel, queried one agent, and got a deal. They say that never happens. But it happened to her, though she ended up being unhappy with her agent and they parted ways before long. Another author told me she wrote her first novel, queried about 200 agents, and didn’t hear a peep for two years. But when someone did peep, it was with the offer of a two-book deal, and all these years later she’s still happy with her agent.

There’s a lesson in there. The first agent I queried told me she’s “not into” the subgenre of crime novels I write, so I’ve already received my first rejection. And the idea of querying hundreds more agents makes me want to defenestrate. So I’m choosing the middle road. A couple dozen agents, a few weeks of waiting, and then we’ll see what happens next. But how do I make my waiting period feel more like time spent in purgatory than in hell?

Now you might be thinking that a few weeks (which could easily stretch into a few months) isn’t such a long time. But it all depends on how you look at it. One of the other people I met at Book Passage was a criminal judge. During a panel discussion, she and her fellow panelists shared examples of how books, TV shows, and movies get the process of crime and punishment wrong. So naturally, I had to ask her for an example of it done right. She told me about a seven-part HBO series called The Night Of. Off I went to my local library to check it out. In episode one, the protagonist wakes up to the bloody corpse of the woman he met just hours earlier. In episode seven, the criminal trial ends. That means that for at least five episodes, we see the protagonist in prison. Waiting. And not just any prison. He’s on Rikers Island, which is the big leagues. During that time, he distracts himself with some less-than-savory activities and balances it by pumping iron. One of those activities is getting the letters “S I N” tattooed on his fingers. Clearly, I’m not the only one who struggles with the idea that patience is a virtue.

from the HBO series, The Night Of
from the HBO series, The Night Of

A wise friend recently urged me to find an activity completely different from killing people on the page to distract me while I attempt to practice this virtue. This week, I start “private eye” school, which doesn’t qualify as a distraction because my goal is to learn how to kill people on the page more convincingly. (Check back for updates in the coming weeks as the program unfolds).

But then a curious thing happened, as it often does. A friend with whom I worked years ago reached out to me to find out if I wanted to dip a toe back in hi tech. That type of work exercises the other half of my brain and gives me balance. Evidently, when I spend too much time writing novels, I’m “icky to be around.” Good grief. But after working for a tech giant for over two decades, did I really want to navigate those waters again? And then this friend told me about the startup he just joined — a little fish in a big pond, as it were — that’s tackling a problem near and dear to my heart. In my experience, tech + heart is a rare combination that I find irresistible.

So what started out as a looming sense of dread for waiting (I used the words “purgatory” and “hell” to describe it, after all) has turned into a little slice of heaven. I’ve already begun sketching out my new novel (set in Lyon!). Next week I dive into my studies in private investigation. And the week after, I start my new assignment at the little fish startup. And I cannot wait to immerse myself in all three.

If you read my Sam Shepard story in my blog post, If You’re Planning to Kill Someone, Learn How to Do It Right, then you may recall my writing that if you set your intention, the universe often gives you what you need even if it doesn’t match what you think you want. I’ve done my bit to research and query a carefully curated selection of agents, and now I get to do things I love doing while my dream agent makes his or her way to my email inbox.

Big thanks this week for the pearls of wisdom shared with me by authors Kelli Stanley and Mary Kubica, and the Honorable Susan Breall. It was delightful meeting you ladies at Book Passage, and I look forward to returning with a “how I found representation” story of my own before too long!

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Why Teachers Make Great Sleuths

I love teachers. If I didn’t have champagne taste, I might have been a teacher myself. Teachers hold a whole lot of information in their heads, and they give it away. When they don’t know an answer to a question, they research the topic because, chances are, they love the challenge of learning something themselves.

It’s said that “Knowledge is power.” It’s a quote attributed to Sir Francis Bacon, though there’s no known evidence of him having actually said or written this maxim. Personally, I prefer the pithier “Knowledge is good,” which was intended as a joke in the film Animal House, because it’s sublime in its simplicity.

Knowledge is Good still from Animal House

But knowledge in and of itself isn’t all that useful unless you put it to work for you.

I’m no expert at what it takes to be a teacher. But I think it’s safe to say that it takes a decent amount of intestinal fortitude to be one in a world where they’re overworked and underpaid, are sometimes expected to substitute-parent their students, and often spend their own money on school supplies when budget cuts get in the way. Something else they give vs. take.

Which adds up to a pretty good start for being an amateur sleuth who isn’t motivated by a big payday. But let’s review some specific criteria for being a modern-day Nancy Drew and see how teachers stack up:

  1. Have a good personality and never think too highly of yourself.
    I don’t know about the second part of that sentence, but I wouldn’t want to be sitting in a classroom led by someone with a bad personality. In high school, I had a history teacher with a caustic personality and I can’t recall learning a single thing from him, except how not to treat others. Misanthropes should steer clear of the profession, imho.

  2. Have a backpack or adventure purse to put all of your gadgets in.
    I love this criterion! Often teachers have to lug around more than just books and pens. As it happens, the protagonist of THE KNITTING DETECTIVE series carries a “sacoche,” which is the French version of a man-purse. It could easily do double-duty as an “adventure purse.”

  3. Always wear something comfortable.
    Check. Grandpa cardigans, elbow patches, shoes with the necessary arch support, et al. In the case of my protagonist, French professor Maxime Martin, even a leather motorcycle jacket qualifies as “comfortable.”

  4. Always have a keen eye.
    This is important for so many reasons — catching students cheating on exams, for one. But also knowing when a student is struggling and needs to be engaged in a different way or to a greater extent.

  5. Make friends easily and have a good personality.
    See #1.

  6. Never jump to conclusions and always have evidence.
    Very important! Did the dog really eat a student’s homework? Highly unlikely, especially if the student doesn’t have a dog.

  7. Always stay calm and be brave.
    Well, that goes without saying. If you’re leading an unruly class, it won’t help if you lose your cool and jump into the fray. And that doesn’t even begin to address the amount of courage that teachers in many inner-city schools have to summon up each day.

  8. Always make sure that during a mystery you never give up on a clue.
    This goes hand-in-hand with #6. Some clues are easy to dismiss. Have you ever noticed how many sleuths solve crimes only after revisiting clues they initially dismissed?

  9. Make sure everything is in its place, otherwise your evidence will be confusing.
    Never mind evidence for a moment. Anyone in authority who comes into contact with children had better have their ducks in a row.

  10. Watch what you say to people: it could make them suspicious of you.
    See #9.

So there you have it. I’ve been blessed to study under some great teachers who made me a better storyteller and launched me on a career as a screenwriter first, and then as a novelist. But teachers of all subjects around the world earn my gratitude because where would humankind be without them?

I don’t know if every teacher has a backpack or adventure purse, but if they do, here’s wishing life fills it up with only good things.

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We’re All in This Together

This morning I woke up at the crack of dawn and zipped to the Seattle ferry terminal to avoid delays at the start of this busy Labor Day weekend. Crossing Elliott Bay by ferry is a wonderful experience, especially on a beautiful day like today. But once in a while, you encounter someone who doesn’t realize—or just doesn’t care— that, like it or not, we’re all on this journey together.

Washington State Ferry

Like this morning, for instance. By the time I arrived, the Seattle holding area was already reaching capacity. Cars were sitting in the first dozen or so vehicle lanes waiting to board the ferry. New arrivals like me were proceeding to empty lanes waiting to fill up. And then the driver of the little red Kia in front of me decided that, rather than proceed to lane 13 or 14, she’d just pull into lane 3 with her tail sticking out so far that none of the cars behind her could pass her. I was dumbstruck. For a nanosecond, I calculated whether I could pass her without scratching her car or mine. Not a chance. So I beeped at her. She rolled down the window and, with a look of innocence that made me want to nominate her for an Oscar, asked, “What?”

Well, she asked so I told her what. “You’re cutting the line,” I said patiently. No reaction. Then I pointed out that when the ferry worker who monitors the holding area arrived, he’d more than likely ask her to back out and go to the end of the line, which might not fit onto the next ferry. And then an amazing thing happened. Not only did she apologize, back up, and proceed to lane 13 or 14, but so did another car that had cut the line by squeezing its arse into lane 2.

Taking a journey of any kind doesn’t mean we have to share the experience with our fellow travelers. You can sit in your car and I can sit in mine, and we never have to interact. But if I do my part and you do yours, then chances are we’ll both arrive without a scratch. So what does any of this have to do with writing mystery novels?

Quite simply, it’s this: “No man is an island,” as John Donne wrote, even if we’re riding a ferry to one. We’re all “a part of the main.” Next week I’ll be heading to the Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference, where I hope to find a literary agent who will believe in me and my work, and offer to shepherd my novel to the best possible publishing deal. But I’m not planning to sit in my car with the windows rolled up while he or she does this alone. We’ll be in this together. When it comes time to promote and market my novel, I expect to play an active part, even though it’s in my nature to let the experts do their bit while I focus on writing the sequel(s).

To improve my luck when opportunity knocks, I’ve been preparing for this next step in the journey by reading piles of books about marketing your work if you’re an author. My favorite book of this type so far is Perennial Seller by Ryan Holiday because he takes an holistic approach to the creative process, positioning your work, marketing it, and building a platform. In it, he writes, “If the first step in the process is coming to terms with the fact that no one is coming to save you—there’s no one to take this thing off your hands and champion it the rest of the way home—then the second is realizing that the person who is going to need to step up is you.”

I’ve completed the fun and agonizing work of getting my manuscript to the point where it’s ready to be submitted to literary agents. Now I’m gearing up for the fun and agonizing work of getting it “the rest of the way home” which, to me, means securing representation and a publishing deal in order to get my book on store shelves, in public and private libraries, on Amazon and other online retailers, and more generally, in the consciousness of the book-buying public.

But it all starts with an appreciation for the fact that I may have started out on this journey by myself but I’m not continuing it alone. It’s something that the lady in the little red Kia might not have considered when she snuck into lane 3, but hopefully she’ll remember it on the ferry ride home.

I can’t wait to meet my fellow travelers at Book Passage next week. So until then, I’d like to thank Ryan Holiday for his wisdom. But most importantly, I’d like to thank someone who I’ve waited to thank since I started this blog: my editor, Diane O’Connell of Write to Sell Your Book. I’ve spent my entire career working with editors, so I know a good one when I see it. And Diane is the best, hands down. I decided to shoot for the stars when I went looking for an editor, and I got my wish. Diane gets me, she gets my work, and she makes it better. Best of all, during our very first conversation when I told her I was looking for a top-notch editor who would be as invested in my success as I am, she made it clear that she wouldn’t have it any other way. Who wouldn’t want a companion like that along for the ride?

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Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

These days, all my social activities with friends who are parents of school-age kids have been put on hold while they gear up for the new school year. If I had kids, I’d be swinging from the rafters at the thought of having my weekdays (or part of them, anyway) back to myself. And then I thought that I do have kids; they just happen to be of the canine variety. And it got me thinking: is it really impossible to teach old dogs new tricks?

I have one new dog, who’s six years old and highly trainable. No problem with new tricks there. And I have one older dog, who’s twelve and has never been trainable, not even by the best trainer I know. Getting her to sit on command reminds me of the scene in Skyfall when the villain, played by Javier Bardem, bemoans the senselessness of Bond’s refusal to do what he wants and ends by lamenting, “It’s exhausting.” In fact, I often try to mimic his accent when I say the same thing to my “senior” dog.

Javier Bardem in SKYFALL

And then I realized that transitioning to a new career means I have to send myself back to school and be open to new tricks. Luckily for me, I love learning new things. In just the past month, I’ve signed myself up for three new learning experiences:

  • Survival strategies, which combines practical self-defense techniques with tactical handheld weaponry. I do not like guns, though I enjoy target practice. And I loathe knives except to slice, dice, chop, julienne, and otherwise cut food. I’m more of an air horn girl. One blast of that thing should send an intruder careening toward the exit signs. But it’s not a suitable accessory for a small purse. Better to know how to wriggle out of an attacker’s grip and run to safety brandishing pepper spray if need be. It’s something that my protagonist, Maxime Martin, had better know how to do too, sans pepper spray.
  • The University of Washington’s Certificate in Private Investigation. At the recommendation of crime novelist Ingrid Thoft, to whom I’ll forever be grateful for turning me onto this program, I applied for admission and I’ll be sitting in the classroom this fall. I can’t wait to learn how to “uncover the facts and expose the truth,” according to the program description, because Maxime will need this know-how for the sequel to my first novel, A SCANDAL IN NICE.
  • The Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference, which was recommended to me by Hallie Ephron, author of my favorite how-to book, Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel. This conference starts in a couple of weeks, about the same time that my friends’ kids will be facing their first day of school.

I’ve never been to a writers’ conference, so I don’t know exactly what to expect. And being reasonably new to mystery writing, I had never heard of the Book Passage Mystery Writers Conference. So I googled it and found a blog post by mystery writer Katherine Bolger Hyde. What a find— and what an inspiration! She describes how she struggled for ten years to launch her career as a mystery writer. And then, in the space of about ten months, she applied for a scholarship to this conference, won the scholarship, attended the conference, met literary agent Kimberley Cameron, became her client, and ended up with a two-book deal.

It didn’t take this “old dog” (though I prefer “young pup,” but let’s be real) more than ten minutes to follow the scent to the Book Passage website, sniff out information about the scholarship, send in my submission, think good thoughts, and prepare to wait for a reply.

And last week I got the news: I am the recipient of this year’s William Gordon scholarship! WOOT!!!

So while my friends’ kids gather their school supplies and agonize over what they’ll wear on their first day of school, I’ll be doing the same things. Only I’ll be jetting down to San Francisco to begin my schooling at this four-day conference.

Thanks to William C. Gordon for funding the scholarship, Kathryn Petrocelli at Book Passage for her delightful emails, and Hallie Ephron for her suggestion that I check out this conference. But most of all, thank you to someone I’ve never met or had contact with—Katherine Bolger Hyde—for taking the time to blog about her experience and inspire someone a thousand miles away to follow in her footsteps.

San Francisco, here I come!