There's Something About Mary (Doria Russell)

Earlier this year, Mary Doria Russell's latest book, Epitaph, was released. She was doing a book tour for it at the time and was scheduled to come through where I live...
But she got sick.
And cancelled her stop here.
And I really thought that was the end of it, because those kinds of things almost never get rescheduled especially when they're in smaller-ish cities and were free to begin with. But!
Being the cool person that she is, she rescheduled and showed up at our local book store earlier this month.

And that was pretty awesome because, now, I've met my top two favorite living traditionally published authors (the other being Neil Gaiman whom I met back in this post (and, yes, before I get any smart ass comments, I met him in that post; no, don't ask how that works; you wouldn't understand)).

Hmm... I'm not sure how I should refer to her. Mrs. Russell sounds too... I don't know. It's not that it sounds formal, exactly, but it sounds overly formal. But I can't just call her Mary. I mean, I'm pretty sure we're not on a first name basis. Well, anyway... She was a delight. Lively and exciting and an entertaining speaker. And you should all read her books.

Speaking of which, there were some interesting things about the event, things I don't really understand. First, my wife and I were almost the youngest people there (other than people who work at the book store), and that was really surprising to me. I mean, The Sparrow is science fiction (even if it's not shelved in the science fiction section of book stores (which, I guess, could be a problem)) so it, at least, ought to attract younger readers? I don't know. Maybe I just don't know how these things work.

Because, aside from the readers being on the older side, an awful lot of them seemed unfamiliar with Russell's work. Of the people that I spoke with, all of them were surprised that I've read all of Russell's books. To one woman I said, "There're only six," to which she seemed inordinately shocked. Like it was a huge deal that I had read six books. Of course, I speaking of that from a reading perspective, not a writing perspective. Six books is a lot to write, but I've read more than six books so far this summer, and the woman seemed to think six books should take, I don't know, years to read.

At any rate, it was an odd experience. When Gaiman was here, people I met and I talked about his various books and what we liked best, but I couldn't have that kind of conversation with the people at Russell's event because they were unfamiliar with the books. On the other hand, I got to tell them about what I like about her books and make recommendations about which ones to start with based on what they like.

Of course, The Sparrow is one of the three books on my list of books I think everyone should read.

My only regret about the event is that I couldn't remember where I'd put my first edition copy of Dreamers of the Day until afterward. You know, I put it away for "safekeeping," and I can never remember where anything I put away for safekeeping is when I need it. I did get my first edition of Epitaph signed along with my first edition paperback of Doc. Now, those are put away for "safekeeping," too. I hope that doesn't mean I'll never see them again. Of course, it doesn't! I did find Dreamers of the Day, after all; however, if there is ever any moment I want them, I won't remember where I've put them.

I've reviewed most of her books, so here are my links to the reviews:
The Sparrow
A Thread of Grace
Dreamers of the Day
Doc
Epitaph

Yes, I do know that I've left Children of God out, but I read it back before I was doing the whole blog thing, and I haven't re-read it since... a long time. Still, it's mentioned in some of the other reviews.

Look, if you consider yourself a serious reader, Mary Doria Russell is someone you should be reading. She does characters better than, maybe, any other author I've ever read (and, again, I read a lot). To try to put this in perspective, Dreamers of the Day is not my favorite of her books, but her depiction of T. E. Lawrence (you know, Lawrence of Arabia) is so strong and has hung with me so much that I'm reading his Seven Pillars of Wisdom. And Doc feels like you're walking down the dusty streets of Dodge City right along with Holliday and Earp.

Just sayin'.

Epitaph (a book review post)

When I was a kid, before I discovered dinosaurs (which I did at the age of four), the very first thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. My grandfather had cows on his farm, so I figured that made him a cowboy, and that's what I wanted to be. Imagine my surprise when I got to my American history class in high school and learned that the term "cowboy" became popularized and associated with the west because of a band of rustlers operating in Arizona in the 1880s know as the Cow Boys. Yeah, you heard me; the Cow Boys were the bad guys.

Interestingly enough, it was these same Cow Boys who would create the enduring legacy of Wyatt Earp and, by extension, Doc Holliday. Wyatt Earp, who was possibly the ultimate frontier lawman... right up until he wasn't.

Of course, there are those who would argue that he was never a lawman, just an outlaw posing as one, but, mostly, those are the outlaws who accused him of that. Or men like Johnny Behan, and we know Behan was crooked, so it makes his accusations a little less believable.

At any rate, Epitaph is not really a book about Wyatt Earp. Which is not to say that it's not a book about Wyatt Earp, because it is. Mostly, though, it's about the conditions that lead up the shootout that was not actually at the O.K. Corral and the fallout after it. The enduring legacy it created.

The temptation, here, is to get into the history of it, but that's in the book. To say that Mary Doria Russell is a meticulous researcher is probably an understatement. We'll say instead that I trust her research. And, sure, I'm biased and, sure, this is historical fiction, but I believe the facts are mostly in place and the suppositions logically follow from the facts.

That said, it's Russell's ability to allow the reader to walk along with her characters that is her greatest asset. And that's where her research really shows, I think. She writes as if she knows these people, as if she spent time with them, as witnessed these things herself. It creates a completely believable world.

Basically, I can't recommend this book or Russell more highly. And, although this is a companion piece to Doc, Doc is not required reading; Epitaph is not a sequel.

Whether you think Wyatt Earp walked with the angels or the demons (and it's not unreasonable to suspect either considering that he was never shot; even when his clothes ended up full of bullet holes, he never received a wound), this book is worth reading for the insight on the situation. The incident "at" the O.K. Corral formed a view of the Old West that has never been shaken, one of showdowns and street fights that never really existed. And maybe that's okay, because it's the legends we look up to and aspire to be. Parts of me still want to be a cowboy.

Jon Clinch's Ink

Jon Clinch would have you believe that he is the best writer that you've never read. And, well, maybe, he is, but I don't know, because I've never read any of his fiction. I'm not sure if I will, either. Here, let me start at the end:

Unmediated Ink: Notes from the self-publishing revolution ends with samples of all of Clinch's novels,

and, having read through them, I can't say that any of the books appealed to me in the slightest. And, see, I really want to want to read Finn, his debut novel. It got all kinds of praise (from literary critics) when it came out, has strong reviews, everything that says it ought to be a good read, but I started reading the sample and, not only was I not hooked, I was turned off by almost everything there, from the present tense of it to the skimpiness of it. And I don't mean the descriptions necessarily but the phrasing. All of the book samples struck me about the same. So, as much as I want to be a Clinch supporter (and I do, because I like what he stands for), I don't know if I ever will be.

Back to the beginning:
Clinch's first novel, Finn, was picked up with a six-figure advance. Yes, six figures, and Clinch reminds us of this several times in Ink. It was put on several best book lists of 2007 and up several awards. Maybe this is why Random House opted out of doing any real marketing of the book. After all, being on all of the those lists (all newspaper book critic lists) used to mean that people would read it, but newspapers don't carry the same weight today as they used to, and Finn under-performed.

Still, that didn't keep Clinch's second novel, Kings of the Earth, from getting picked up on another six-figure deal. Kings also received critical praise and was named the #1 book on the 2010 summer reading list in O, The Oprah Magazine. [There was a time when that slot would have meant an instant bestseller, but, maybe, that mess with Frey hurt more than I knew about.] And, again, maybe that's why Random House let the book flop around like a fish that has flipped out of its fish tank; the book didn't sell.

And Jon Clinch wasn't happy about it.

And I get that. His publisher failed him. I mean, they didn't even make the attempt to market the books. [Let me be clear, here, this is why he believes you've never read any of his books. Because his publisher failed to market them.] So he struck out on his own, self-publishing three more books including this one. He figured he could do better. Except I don't really know what that means. Is doing better selling more books (I don't know if he's done that.) or is doing better making more money (because I'm pretty sure he hassn't done that (it's hard to beat two six-figure book deals))? He fails to clarify or, even, offer the results. Unless he's still waiting for the results. At any rate, he seems to be much more satisfied with the amount of control he has now.

Ink is roughly divided into three sections: the problems with the big publishers, how he went about self-publishing his own books, and the samples of his novels.

Section one is the most interesting; the only problem is that Clinch just sort of skims from topic to topic like a stone across a pond. He mentions various things, but he offers no actual data or information about those topics beyond his own experience. Which is valid, but, then, with the two six-figure books deals he had, it comes off as kind of whiny. At least to me. Like the kid holding a double-scoop ice cream cone stomping his feet and saying, "But, Daddy, I wanted three scoops!" The only exception he makes to this is when he talks about Mary Doria Russell and what Random House did to her over Doc (yes, you should go read that post). That's his one concrete piece of evidence about what he's talking about other than saying things like, "this stuff is happening to all kinds of authors." And it's not that I don't believe him, but it would have been nice to have seen something more concrete. To put it in scientific terms, he offered up a hypothesis without any experimental data.

The second section follows his process of self-publishing. I would like to say it's worth grabbing up just for this stuff, but, unfortunately, it's not. There are three things that keep the section from being useful: 1. the aforementioned six-figure book deals and the plenty of money to do whatever he wanted to do (as opposed to most self-published authors who have budgets that amount in the hundreds of dollars if they have a budget at all) 2. the fact that he already had a relationship with many bookstores due to the aforementioned books 3. his background in marketing and advertising. He was just able to do a lot of things that, probably, 99% of authors who are self-publishing will not be able to replicate. So, whereas it's interesting to see the path he chose, I can't say that it's useful.

He ends that section with some reflections about self-publishing and where it might be going, but, again, he doesn't go deep enough, just skims the topics. And, having experienced both traditional and self publishing, he offers no evaluation. The closest we can get to how he thinks the two compare is that he seems to imply that he will continue down the self-publishing path, although he never states that explicitly.

The final portion of the book, as I stated, is a sampling of his four novels. These being here strike me as a marketing move, and it's probably a good one. Traditional publishers have long been putting samples in the backs of books. These samples do take up about 40% of the actual content of Ink, though, which already isn't long. And, well, if it was a marketing move, it's one that failed with me. Whereas, before I read the sample, I was planning to get Finn, I'm leaning away from that now.

All in all, I'd say Unmediated Ink is only worth the read if you want a superficial glance at one author's experiences in traditional publishing. It's not that I don't agree with him; I do. I agree with almost everything he says, especially the part about traditional publishers only being interested in the "next big thing," but, without the data to support his claims, the book is nothing more than anecdotal. And that's unfortunate, because a more in depth look at the issues plaguing the publishing industry, especially from someone who has seen both sides, is way past due.

The Importance of Liking Your Own Work -- Part Two (an Indie Life post)

A couple or few weeks ago, someone said to me that one of the reasons that she likes my blog is that I know how to take criticism. That, of course, started me to thinking, and the first thing I thought of was the incident that I talked about in part one of this. The point of that is this: when you approach a topic (whatever that topic is, from an idea to a creation) from a stance of confidence, it allows you to take any incoming information (critique) and say one of two things:
1. Well, that's obviously not valid, so I can discard that.
2. Oh, that might be valid; let me look at it and see.
When you lack confidence, when you don't believe in yourself (whether it's an idea or a creation), you only have access to one of those options.

You can either discard everything (because you have to) and cling to whatever belief you have, even when you have nothing to back it up with other than dogma (as I was talking about here (which is not to say that that behavior is only about religion; it's not. It's just as common in politics or science or, even, dieting)). Or you accept everything that challenges you as valid and try to accommodate all of it, which can be rather tumultuous, like being battered by waves at sea.

For an artist, a creator, either of those can be crippling.

You get people, on one end, exploding all over the Internet about anything negative that's said about their work (of which I have firsthand experience) and people on the other end trying to incorporate every critique given to them, even when they conflict with each other. Neither person has any actual confidence in what they've created.

So what is it that allows someone to take criticism well?

When it's an idea or belief, confidence comes from knowledge. From having researched your position, looking at the different perspectives, and coming to the best conclusion you can from the facts at hand. When someone throws something at you that you've already researched, you can disregard it. If it's new data, you can go look at it and see if it changes your perspective. Either way, you're approaching the situation from an area of confidence (that you just wouldn't have if you've accepted your stance on someone else's say so).

When it's about something that you've created, at it's essence, it's the same issue. The key, though, is having created something that you like. If it's the way you want it, it's rather the same kind of thing as having done the research on an issue or a belief. So, if someone comes to you and says, "I don't like the way you had that fart joke in there," if it's something you like (and think is funny), then you can shrug and say, "That's too bad." Or, maybe, someone says, "Hey, what if this thing happened here instead of that other thing?" and, maybe, it's something you never considered, but, then, you can look at it and see if it changes what you've done with your story and see if it really is a good suggestion or not.

If you don't like all of your story or don't know what works or are too busy trying to write a story that other people will like instead of one that you like, you have no way of evaluating what people say to you about what you've written, because you have nothing to judge it against. If you can't say, "I like it," then, well, you have nothing.

Here are two examples:
In one book I was reviewing, I mentioned that it felt like there were two stories going on that didn't fit together well. One of the main characters had absolutely nothing to do in the entire book except that, at one point, he shows up some place and does one thing that has significance to the story. And it's completely accidental on his part as he doesn't go there purposefully to do that thing, he just appears there and his appearance causes the thing to happen. I mentioned that, if that was his only role in the whole book, then, maybe, those two stories should be separate.

The author let me know that originally, it had been two different stories but someone else told him he should combine them, and he'd listened. He'd listened because he had not been satisfied with either story, felt they were both missing something. So, instead of working to make them both into stories that he liked, he started taking suggestions on how to make them better. He wasn't satisfied with the end product, either, but, once he'd put it out there that way, he felt he had to defend it even though he acknowledged the issues, issues he himself had with the novel but couldn't reveal in public. So he had meltdown online over my review and proceeded to call me all sorts of names and, well, it was messy.

But it was because he didn't have a story he actually liked.

For myself, one of the things people mention about The House on the Corner is that it starts slow. I spend too much time on character development. But, as I was just talking about in my review of Doc, it's the character development that's important to me. The action of the story is only there to reveal the characters to us, so I want to know the characters. So, when someone tells me I "take too long" to get to the story, that I don't start with a lot of action, well, I'm okay with  that, because my story is doing what I want it to do. [I want it to be clear that the choices of Tom and Sam and Ruth happen because of whom they are as characters and not because of the arbitrary whims of meeting the needs of the plot.] I'm in a place of confidence, because I like my story. The negative criticism doesn't matter so much.

All of this brings me back to a point that I've made frequently over the course of my blog: as a writer, write the story you like. Don't worry about anything else. If you like it, there's very little chance that there won't be other people out there that like it, too. If, however, you try to write the story that other people like, you won't be able to do it. You'll write a story that some people like, maybe, but will have to deal with the other people that don't like it and, probably, won't like it yourself. And you may end up with something that no one likes. If you write the story that you like, well, at least, you like it. And that's what let's you look at a 1-star review and say, "You know what, that's okay, because I'm happy with what I've written." And, in the end, that's all that's really important.

This post has been brought to you by Indie Life.

Doc: A Review

I grew up on Westerns. My Saturdays, when there was no one available to play with, were full of them: The Lone Ranger (yes, I will go see the new movie, but I'm already thinking they should have called it Tonto), The Rifleman, The Big Valley, Rawhide, Bonanza. I also watched Gunsmoke, The Wild Wild West, and Alias Smith and Jones (which I loved enough to show my kids not too long ago), but those weren't in the Saturday lineup. None of that translated into reading Westerns, though; I don't really know why.

With that in mind, I was quite excited about Mary Doria Russell writing a Western.
And I wasn't disappointed.

As may be obvious from the title, Doc is about Doc Holliday. Well, obvious as long as you know the book is a Western. After all, what other figure is there from the American West who is called Doc? What you may also think is obvious is that the book deals with the gunfight at the O.K. Corral, perhaps even uses that as its climax, but you would be wrong.

So much of the "history" we know about Doc Holliday is centered around that one gunfight, a gunfight that lasted approximately 30 seconds, but it doesn't tell us anything about Doc. About why he was there. It doesn't tell us anything beyond the persistent legend that says that Doc Holliday was a gambler, gunman, and scoundrel. That he was just shy of a villain. Which was the belief for nearly a century after his death (helped in no small part by the sensationalized stories of Bat Masterson who believed in the story more than the truth).

Doc: A Novel does tell us why he was there without bothering to actually deal with the shootout itself. Heck, it's not even set in Tombstone. Doc tells the story of what was probably the only happy time Holliday had once he moved west to fight his tuberculosis. It deals with how he fell in with the Earps and, specifically, Wyatt, because you can't really tell a story about Doc that doesn't include Wyatt. The interesting thing about that is that it wasn't really Wyatt who was Doc's friend. Not that he wasn't, but it was Morgan Earp that Doc was close to. Once you know that, you can understand everything that happened in Tombstone and, more specifically, what happened after.

At its heart, Doc is a character piece. There is a plot, but it's very soft. The book isn't about the plot, so to speak; it's about the characters. Russell excels at characters, and, I have to say, this book is about as close as you'll get to feeling like you were right there with Wyatt and Doc and all the other Earps. I don't think you necessarily care about what's going to happen in a book like this; you just want to know what's going to happen to the characters. And there's a real difference in those two things.

We hear a lot, these days, about starting in the middle of the action and getting on to the story (the action) and keeping things fast-paced (action) and all of that, but, when I think back about my favorite books, I never remember the action; I remember the characters. It's the characters that captivate me. Sure, books that are full of action can be a lot of fun to read, but, if there's no connection with the characters, then those action (plot) oriented books are (for me) like candy. There's just no substance there, and they don't stay with me. Or, even, interest me much anymore.

If you want to walk the dusty streets of Dodge City with Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp, listen in the conversations they're having, watch Doc do his dentistry during the only time in his life when he was really able to practice it; this is the book for you. If you just want to get to the gunfights and the shootouts, you should go watch Tombstone.

Note: This is probably the best written of Russell's books, which is a considerable accomplishment considering the books she's written, but I think The Sparrow is still my favorite. In fact, I'm sure it is. However, that may all change when the sequel (currently called Epitaph) to Doc comes out; that one will deal with O.K. Corral.

What Hope Do We Have? (an Indie Life post)

Those of you who have been around here for a while may have figured out that Mary Doria Russell is one of my favorite authors. Her first book, The Sparrow, is on my "Of Significance..." page and is one of the three books I think everyone should read. I reviewed both A Thread of Grace and Dreamers of the Day and will be reviewing Doc pretty soon here. The Sparrow has been optioned as a movie three times (once with Brad Pitt as the lead), but a screen play that satisfied both Russell and the potential producers has proven elusive. It also won several prestigious awards. Her latest novel, Doc, is in production as an HBO series.

Russell is a good writer. When I say "good," I don't just mean "good;" I mean she's an excellent writer. Her prose is wonderful; she researches her topics extensively; her characters are real. And, yet, except for hearing me talk about her here, most of you probably have never heard of her. And that's too bad, because she has deserved better than she's gotten.

See, Russell has been stuck as a mid-list author for a big publisher, Random House, since her first book. We all like to think that if you are with a big publisher that the big publisher is going to do things for you. Things like distribute your book and things like market your book. The publisher is going to make sure that people know you're out there, right? Well, not so much. As it turns out, the only people that get marketing dollars are the people that don't need the marketing dollars; everyone else is just quietly shuffled aside.

Let me give you a more specific example.

Russell was with Random House for 15 years and 5 books. During that time, none of her books were ever promoted. Nevertheless, her books made money. I say that they made money in that they (the publisher) made back its advance and  the books continued to profit. But they were never blockbusters. Then, in 2011, just before the release of Doc, Random House let Russell know that they were not interested in any further books by her, and they dropped any and all promotional activity on Doc. They gave her no reasons at all. They were just finished with her. [Of course, I have to wonder if it would have gone that way if they could have guessed about the HBO series, which didn't happen until after the release of the book.] As she says it, it was like having your spouse throw you a huge 25th wedding anniversary party and serving you divorce papers for dessert.

Russell is not an exception to business as usual; she is business as usual. At least for Random House.

If an author like Mary Doria Russell can be dropped by Random House as easily as one might drop a tissue into the trash, what hope do the rest of us have? Random House (and one can surmise the rest of the big publishers) is only looking for the "next big thing;" if you're not that, they don't want you. There is no more development of the mid-list author, no promotion of authors who aren't already big, no more time or space for anyone that is not grand slam. So what hope do we have?

Well, I'd say that our hope is not and, in many ways, should never have been in BIG publishing. Unless things change, the future of publishing is not with Random House and the other large publishing houses. The present, the right now, of publishing is barely with them, and it's moving away. Fast.

All of the things we used to need the publisher for are available elsewhere, now. Except getting our books into book stores, and, as it turns out, they're not all that good at that and, actually, never were. Here is some suggested reading on the subject.

My point, though, is this:
As writers, our hope does not lie in the big, traditional publishing houses. If you think you need them, they don't want you. If they want you, you don't need them, although you may not realize it. [E. L. James certainly didn't need them. Random House only wanted her because she was already a success; they did not make her one. They just tacked themselves onto the end of all the work she had previously done so that they could get a cut of the profits.] Writing and, by extension, getting your writing out to people is hard work. Random House and their ilk are not interested in doing the hard work, so you're going to have to do that yourself whether you're an "indie" or with a publisher. If you're going to have to do the work, why pay them to take your money?

Just sayin'.

The hope of authors, at least until something else comes along, is in building a community apart from the traditional publishers.

This post has been brought to you by Indie Life.

Dreamers of the Day

"...the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible." -- T. E. Lawrence

The Cairo Conference, the one in 1921, is one of the most pivotal points in modern history in that it set the stage for much of the world's current problems in the Middle East. Possibly all of them. The best thing that can be said it about it is that, thankfully, the United States wasn't involved in what happened. It's difficult for me to understand how it is that any man or group of men can think it's okay to determine the destiny and place in the world of people who have not agreed to that. That would be rather like me coming into your house, organizing it to meet my own needs, telling you which parts of your own house you were allowed to be in, and which possessions were still yours. Let me give you a hint: it's not the oil.

This is the backdrop against which Mary Doria Russell sets her historical fiction novel, Dreamers of the Day. And what a great title. Have I mentioned how much I like a good title? Not today? Well, I do, and that's a great title. Fortunately, it's from a quote by T. E. Lawrence, so, you know, if I ever decide I want to use it, I can, and I won't even have to feel bad about it. Lawrence, of course, is a central figure in the book.

I've been fascinated with Lawrence for a couple of decades at least. Probably longer. He's such an interesting person in history, and, I think, Russell did a more than admirable job of portraying him in the book. He certainly "felt" right based upon what I know of him. Not that it's easy to know what a person was like from reading about him in history, but, still...

One of the things I like most about Russell is that her books are not all cookie cutters of each other as is the case with many authors. Each of her books has a unique feel and perspective, often unsettling at first when you go in expecting something resembling a previous work of hers.

In The Sparrow we have third person past from one character in two different time settings. There's the story of what's happening now and the story of what happened in the past, and the thing that makes it so captivating is that you can't figure out how what happened lead to what's happening.

Children of God (sequel to Sparrow) is also third person past but has multiple perspectives and is, kind of, what's happening now and what's happening in the future. It's an interesting shift.

A Thread of Grace is third person present with multiple perspectives, and it really through me off when I started it. After her other two books, it just felt sort of wrong. Until I got into it.

Dreamers of the Day is first person past but also break occasionally for the narrator to speak to the audience. The beginning is very much a "let me tell you how this all started" and was kind of weird, and, again, I wasn't sure I was going to like it. But I did. If you have any interest in history, the book is especially fascinating.

At any rate, she has not satisfied herself with having any particular style that is recognizably hers other than having superb writing. She tries new things every time, and I like that.

Dreamers also has an interesting ending. There are hints all through the book, but, for me, I kept thinking, "Nah, she wouldn't do that," but she did, and it managed to add extra weight to the book. I'd tell you about it, but I don't want to ruin it for anyone.

The Sparrow is still my favorite book by Russell, but each of her books has been excellent, and I'm looking forward to working Doc into my reading schedule.

Oh, and, now, once again, I want to read Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom. One of these days, I need to get around to that.

"All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible."