In Memoriam: David Thompson

I originally posted this on Do Some Damage, but wanted it up here as well.


David Thompson was one of the few people who could get me to fly.

Three years ago, when my debut was released, he asked me to sign at Murder by the Book. I couldn't go, but he made sure he asked again when my second came out--sending about fifteen different dates I could show up. The message was clear, "Get your butt down here, we want to sell your book."

I had no choice, I agreed, despite my fear of flying. I actually got on a plane to Houston to be at that bookstore.

That's how David treated writers. He wanted them to come to his store and push their books. It didn't matter if you were Michael Connelly, Dennis Lehane, Laura Lippman, or any old midlist writer, he and his wife, McKenna, treated everyone like a superstar.

To them, every writer was special.

And they made sure their signings were legendary. They were fun question and answer sessions that went on for an hour or more, letting you learn as much about a writer as possible, and often immortalized on YouTube by Bill Crider.

David didn't stop there. He created Busted Flush Press, a small publisher who put out great novels and anthologies. He and Duane Swierczynski placed my first original story in a print anthology with DAMN NEAR DEAD.

He energy and enthusiasm toward books was contagious. He spent his time on Twitter pushing his favorite novels or most recent reads. He always let people know what books the store had imported from the UK. Murder by the Book is my go to independent store. They would ship to NJ without hesitation.

When I heard about his passing today, I went numb. I had just been talking about him in class that morning, telling my students my most embarrassing story--traveling to the signing. I nearly had a nervous breakdown on a plane and still made sure I signed there. Not many people can get me on an airplane.

And, I suspect that's how it was with David and all other authors. They would do anything to talk to him, do anything to sign at his store. His love of books was infectious. He was one of a kind.

I'm going to miss him.

Dear Writers

I'm more than halfway through my current manuscript, and I'm coming across something I've never come across before. I'm seeing what major revisions to make to tighten up the piece before I even finish it. There are some characters I want to combine, a few to cut, and some moments to cut, and add.

Usually, when writing, I just plug forward, use the characters I have and try to come to an ending. Then I worry about revision.

But this time it's gnawing at me. I've tried to ignore it and wait until I'm done to make the changes. After all, I'm working without an outline. What if the characters I'm thinking of combining really separate themselves and both become important to the plot?

What if the characters I was going to do away with completely does the same thing?

But, instead, I find myself ignoring these characters, not giving them the depth they need.

And I'm constantly wondering if I should go back and revise before I continue. Will it help me get to the ending I want to get to? Or will it just muck everything up?

What do you think?

Random Thoughts from a Honeymoon Cruise

That's right, I'm married!

In fact, if you've been wondering where I've been for the past 4 (whoa... four??) months, it's been planning a wedding and writing.

Now that I'm back from the honeymoon, I'm hoping to start blogging with some more regularity. That said, the wife and I took a cruise to Bermuda, and here is basically what I'd be posting to Twitter, if my phone had worked:

-No, seriously, do not flush foreign objects down the toilet.

-Playing the theme from TITANIC during dinner is probably the worst choice this cruiseline could make.

-We had the best sommelier. He remembered our drink order from night to night and had a catch phrase. "And enjoy. CHEERS!"

-Being on a cruise is like starring in all the non-explosion parts of a James Bond movie.

-There's a dance called the Cuban Shuffle?

-Apparently every book that's not downloaded to a Kindle, iPad, or Nook has a title that starts with THE GIRL WHO...

-Just talked a woman into buying my book on her Kindle... right now. ABC. (More on this at Do Some Damage, later this week.)

-Wait. It's called the Cupid Shuffle? And it sucks.

-Dear band, you do not have to teach the crowd how to participate to "Sweet Caroline."

-You know you're drunk on a boat in rough waters when you're the only one walking straight.

-Bacon!

-Pizza!

-Frog legs, delicious, Quail, meh, and escargot, DELICIOUS.

-BACON!

-PIZZA!!

-I wish we were not the most recently married couple at this party. The champagne sucks!

-Another character with a catch phrase. The entertainment director asked everyone HOWZIT!

-MINI DONUTS!

-Good thing everyone in Bermuda honks their horn at other drivers. I keep forgetting they drive on the left.

-Why are there no sidewalks in Bermuda?

-Mmmmmmm, Dockyard Beer. The only brewpub in Bermuda and I found it.

-Interestingly, rough seas do not affect the rotation of a roulette wheel or roulette ball.

-ENOUGH WITH THE CUPID SHUFFLE!

-Water: cold. Sun: hot. Sand: pink.

-Duty free scotch and cuban cigars... niceeeeeeeee.

-Fingers crossed that customs does not look for my Cuban Cigars.

-BACON! PIZZA!

Teacher Week: College

College. Does anyone even remember college?

I do. I remember the classes.

I remember learning how to read all over again. I learned to love THE GREAT GATSBY and how to look at the characters in their own way.

Professors taught me how to write and how to research.

Professors taught me how to revise.

And I remember two specific professors: One who read the very first draft of "God Bless the Child" and encouraged me to revise it. And revise again. And at the end of the semester wrote on the paper: "You should look up some mystery magazines. This is good enough to get published."

And I remember another of my creative writing professors, an adjunct honestly, who took time out of her schedule to help me write my thesis... my very first attempt at a Jackson Donne novel. When it was finished, she gave me an A. I wondered aloud if I would ever be able to publish it.

She said without a doubt, "Yes."

I didn't publish that one, but from elementary school all the way through college there were teachers there to inspire me and push me along. There were those who guided me specifically and those who said things that stuck with me for years.

Without teachers, I wouldn't be where I am now.

Teacher Week: High School Teachers

High School. The years where you're supposed to continue a higher level of thinking. You have to navigate the halls, the hate, and the fun and still come up strong.

My high school years were great. My band teacher taught me discipline, organization, and the ability to perform without an over abundance of nerves. He got us all motivated and dedicated to one cause. Nearly all of us bought in. And by all, I mean over 180 kids at one time.

I learned how to write poetry, to create a picture with words and give it feeling. I learned the art of a story arc, how characters had to be believable and have the right motivations. I learned that some people are going to like what you write and some people aren't.

I learned to type. The right way.

I learned how to look deeply into story. How Shakespeare wasn't as complicated as some made it out to be. And how Hawthorne was. I learned how to write essays that looked deep into the souls of characters and how to find a different meaning than was there.

I learned about World War I and II and how the seeds were sewn for those conflicts many years earlier. How one event builds on another and another.

And I learned Hamlet. I got to be Hamlet when we read aloud in class. And how my teacher pulled me aside one day and said, "Not many people get to play Hamlet, but you'll always be able to say you did."

Teacher Week: Middle School Teachers

Middle school is where you start to grow up. Sixth, seventh and eighth grade are those hormonal years where you don't understand your own body, you don't understand the world around you, and yet you think you're the coolest thing on earth.

Or you have no confidence whatsoever.

My middle school years weren't any different from that, but I had some really great teachers to help guide me through those years.

I remember learning about developing your own photographs, real hands on stuff. And learning about how to build something from scratch, where you're given a task (build something that will roll ten feet and pop a balloon--using a mousetrap), and you have to come up with a way to complete.

I learned about failure. The balloon didn't pop. Not having the right notebook for a notebook check.

But when failure came, teachers were there to guide me through it. One teacher, right after failing me gave me a new notebook and a guideline of how to pass next time.

And, when the most tragic of events happened--a student in our 8th grade class died--our teachers were there to guide us through.

The day after his death, our teachers were there to talk with us. To help us with our grief. They allowed students to write poems, to discuss their feelings, to hug if it was needed.

And weeks later, when the students went to City Hall to plead for a walkway over the highway where the student died, the teachers watched. They didn't need to say anything. Didn't need to acknowledge it.

But one cut out the news article the next day. Posted it on her bulletin board and just wrote next to it... "I'm proud of you!"

And it was the right amount of care and the right amount of guidance.

Years later, that same teacher gave me the best advice about teaching 8th Grade. She wasn't even talking to me when she said it.

"Sometimes you just want to tell them to act their age," she said. "Then you realize... they are."

Teacher Week: Elementary School Teachers

This week my blog is going to be an ode to the teachers I've had in life. I'm not going to use their names because some of them are still working and I didn't clear it with them, but I will talk about the things they did to inspire me.

My elementary school teachers really had an impact on my life, whether it was teaching me to count to 100 in Kindgergarten or delivering the news of the Challenger explosion in first grade. I remember my second grade teacher pushing me to finish a novel about Daniel Boone, my first read that was over 100 pages long.

But what I remember most were my fourth and fifth grade teachers. My fourth grade teacher would go above and beyond her teaching contract, taking the time to read the stories I wrote even though they were no assigned class projects. In fact, she was responsible for my first published story, a Sherlock Holmes pastiche called "The Adventure of the Golden Bookcase" which was published in the district's literary magazine called "The Cobbler."

My fifth grade teacher also pushed my writing. We had weekly creative writing assignments where she'd give us a story starter and we'd have to write about it. I was able to push my fifth grade self to write horror stories, historical tales, and another Holmes story. I also learned the art of peer sharing. Before we finished the stories, we had to read them to a group of students in our class. Those students were able to clear up confusions, maybe make a few grammatical changes. My first foray into revision.

You learn basics in elementary school. The seeds are planted for the rest of your life. And the dedicated teachers I had helped send me in the right direction.

What good elementary teachers did you have?