Reading, 'Riting, and Ramblings

Reflections on 2016

People have been saying dire things like 2016 was "the worst year in history." But in the grand scheme of humanity's track record, 2016 was a cake walk. No warlords tore through the U.S. razing fields and enslaving farmers. No dictatorships with aspirations of world domination stormed our shores to slaughter twenty million people. Our next president, whether you like him or not, was duly elected; he didn't invade the White House with a rebel army and name himself Emperor, forcibly take the First Lady and her daughters into his harem, and then command a bloody purge of the country's liberal scholars and their families. Considering what humans are capable of when they lose their heads, I think we're doing pretty darned well.

On a personal level, 2016 was a big year for Sweetie and me. We had a lot of adventures and went through a lot of "firsts."

• We rented and drove a U-Haul from drizzly Portland, through treacherous Mount Hood, to sunny Central Oregon.
• We moved into a house with a garage and an enclosed backyard.
• We learned various things about taking care of said house, and Luna went out to play in said backyard after eight years sitting in the windows of apartments.
• We made friendly overtures to our neighbors.
• We graduated to a queen-sized canopy bed.
• We got new tires for the car.
• We learned how to use snow chains.

As a librarian, I moved up to an administrative position with more responsibility than I've ever had before. As a web developer, I took on contract work for the first time.

As a writer, I wrote the bulk of my first cozy mystery. I have only five chapters to go and hope to finish two of them before the ball drops on New Year's Eve. I feel like I've made significant strides since the days of Kagemusha, when I cut out whole chapters because they were too hard to write.

Goals for 2017

My goals for 2017 are simple, yet ambitious.

1. Secure an agent and a publisher for my cozy mystery.

I'm confident I'll be able to find at least one literary agent willing to represent my cozy mystery. Unlike my previous novels, Whacked in the Stacks ("WITS") is in an established genre that generates steady, though modest, sales. Two years ago when agents read the manuscript of Kagemusha, they said, "I love it, but I can't sell it." Hopefully this time they'll say, "I love it, and I know several editors who might want to buy it."

2. Write my second cozy mystery.

I have the sequel to WITS planned out, and I intend to start writing it as soon as WITS is polished and ready to go. Though I write comparatively slowly because I work full-time, if I stick to my daily writing schedule, I can finish a novel of this type within six months. I'll start in January or February and aim to finish by June or July.

3. Start on the first book of my fantasy trilogy.

The steampunk wuxia trilogy will be much more challenging to write than the cozy mysteries. (A) The setting is an exotic fantasy world. (B) The plot is an intricate epic of intertwined romances and mysteries. And (C) the scenes will be packed with high-flying sword fights and heartbreak. I can write comedy easily enough, but action and tragedy are challenging for me.

After I finish the WITS sequel, I'm going to take another stab at Book 1. My first stab missed the mark because I tried to write it in the third person. Then I read The Moonstone and realized the key to pulling off this story will be to create distinct first-person voices. I don't know if I can finish Book 1 by the end of 2017, but I can at least start the first half. I'll be very proud of myself if I can finish the first book by my thirtieth birthday in March 2018.

My winter vacation starts today! For the next two weeks, I get to spend my days like a lady of leisure: sleeping in, eating bread pudding for breakfast, and lounging around all day in my pajamas reading and writing books.

Over the past couple of weeks I've raced through great stacks of cozy mysteries from the public library. Some of the books I finished and liked, or even loved—Rhys Bowen and Rae Davies are now on my list of "Writers I Wish I Could Meet for Tea." Other books I put down after the first couple of chapters. The prose was hard to follow, or the protagonists rubbed me the wrong way, or the plots never took off.

Many of the books, even the ones I liked, tragically fell victim to some of my least favorite cozy mystery tropes. When I see one of these tropes pop up in an otherwise lovely book, it puts me in a stormy mood for the rest of the day.

1. The Domineering Love Interest

Trope Description

The smart, independent heroine butts heads with an arrogant, smirking detective. The detective insults her intelligence and orders her around. The heroine bristles, but she can't help noticing the piercing blue of his eyes or the manly strength of his arm muscles. In the middle of an angry confrontation, the detective pins the heroine against the wall and smothers her with kisses. The smart, independent heroine melts into the jerk's embrace.

Common Variations

• The smirking love interest is instead a sheriff, an investigative journalist, and/or an old flame.
• The smirking love interest is a shameless playboy who flirts with every woman in sight, and when the heroine gets upset, he teases her for being jealous.
• The smirking love interest takes on the role of "protector" a la Edward Cullen. He bosses the heroine around in the name of keeping her safe, and he drops suave lines like, "If I leave you alone for one second, you get yourself in trouble."

Why This Trope Exists

Prior to very recent history, arrogant SOBs were the archetypal heroes of Western fiction. Who do we think of as the great romantic heroes? The judgmental aristocrat Mr. Darcy, the cynical bully Mr. Rochester, and the puppy-strangling sociopath Heathcliff. Though readers and writers surely don't find disrespectful behavior a turn-on in real life, we're trained from childhood to think it's super-duper romantic in fiction.

In addition, anger and fear are easily confused with romantic arousal. When we read scenes that make us angry or afraid—like scenes of powerful men shouting at petite heroines and pinning them against walls—our hearts start thumping and adrenaline starts rushing through our bloodstreams. We falsely interpret the scene to be "exciting" and "romantic." Scenes of men treating women with respect, in contrast, are "boring."

Why I Hate This Trope

I can't respect a heroine who pines for a jerk who treats her like a dog he can pet, abuse, or ignore at his whim. Worse, I can't understand her. When men push me around—and some do try, on occasion—I am the exact opposite of attracted to them. My heart flutters for selfless gentlemen, not for insensitive boors.

My enjoyment of many a great book has been ruined, or nearly ruined, by an atrocious love interest. I'll be reading along, loving the spunky heroine, and then she suddenly starts acting like a spineless fairy-tale princess because a haughty prince has pretty blue eyes. Even in The Black Hour, a book I admire in every other respect, the whip-smart heroine falls for a cocky reporter who needles her every chance he gets. I skimmed over those parts and prefer to pretend they don't exist.

It's perfectly possible to create an exciting romance line without resorting to Slap-Slap-Kiss tactics. A loud clash of personalities is only one type of conflict. There are many other internal and external conflicts you can use to force two lovebirds apart and add tension to their relationship.

2. The Conveniently Oblivious Heroine

Trope Description

Near the end of the book, it becomes glaringly obvious to the reader which of the suspects is the real killer, but the heroine hasn't yet cottoned on. The real killer knocks on the door, and the heroine cheerfully invites him in. She answers a phone call from her friend, and the friend says something that makes the heroine realize, "Oh my gosh! Real Killer is the real killer!" She spins around to find a gun pointed at her face.

Common Variations

• The heroine rushes to meet Real Killer's girlfriend/sister/mother and tell her breathlessly that she knows who did it. Real Killer steps out of the kitchen with the gun.
• Real Killer helpfully offers the heroine a ride to the police station, and she accepts. The heroine chatters about her latest discoveries, which will surely help the detectives solve the case. Real Killer compliments her on her brains and pulls out the gun.
• The heroine has a flash of insight at midnight and must go to a dangerous location right that minute, alone, to make sure she's right. She decides she shouldn't call the police or tell anyone where she's going, because what if she's wrong? She steps out of her car, and Real Killer steps out of the bushes with the gun.

Why This Trope Exists

Modern mystery readers expect a life-threatening confrontation at the climax of every novel, so somehow writers have to wrangle the heroine into one. The easiest way to do it is to make her waltz right into the line of fire.

Why I Hate This Trope

It's highly frustrating when main characters grab the Idiot Ball because the plot won't work any other way. For the author's convenience, the previously intelligent heroine suddenly becomes dumber than a scantily clad co-ed in a horror flick. Frustrated readers will be left screaming, "Don't go into the dark woods alone, you numbskull!"

Instead of handing the protagonist the Idiot Ball, a writer could do any of the following, or more.

• The heroine figures out who the villain is and tries to protect herself, but the wily villain breaks through her careful defenses.
• The heroine aids the authorities in approaching the villain in a safe way, but something goes wrong.
• The heroine willfully dives headlong into danger to protect someone else.

3. The Wise-Cracking Psychopath

Trope Description

As soon as he points a gun at the heroine's face, the real killer instantly becomes a witty mustache-twirling villain. He discards any semblance of his previous personality and inexplicably morphs into a 1940s Hollywood gangster, tossing off flippant one-liners and all but laughing "Mwahaha!" as he locks the heroine in the bakery freezer to die.

Why This Trope Exists

I have a couple of theories about why cookie-cutter psychos are so common in cozy mysteries.

First, cozy mystery novels are often installments in long-running series. It's a tall order for one person to come up with twenty unique murderers with believable motivations.

Second, writing about unique murderers with believable motivations is emotionally draining. Writing about two-dimensional cartoon villains is easy because they feel nothing. They just rant a bit in a superior tone and then get shot. Writing about three-dimensional human villains is exhausting because they're drowning in tempests of emotions. To write in their voices, you have to brave the storms of rage and panic and despair yourself.

Why I Hate This Trope

Cozy writers might think psychos waving guns around makes the climax more exciting, but in my experience, it's just the opposite. As soon as the villain starts twirling his mustache, I lose any emotional investment I had in the story. I know the rest of the book is just going to follow a clichéd pattern. I think, "Well, now the villain is going to brag about how he pulled off the murder—yup, he did—and now he's going to march the heroine into that freezer—there they go—and now the smirking love interest is going to charge in and save her—yay, there he is."

My favorite mystery endings of all time didn't put the amateur detective in physical danger at all. The strength and excitement of the denouements came from the villains' confessions, and the way my heart wrenched for them even as I despised them for what they'd done. The ending of Dorothy L. Sayers' Gaudy Night is nothing more than a maid throwing a tantrum, but I felt for her a lot more keenly than I ever did for any nosy caterer fleeing for her life from a crazed killer.

This past Friday I finished chapter 20 of 28 in my cozy mystery, which means I'm only one chapter shy of being three-quarters done!

I'm making progress slowly but surely. Monday through Friday, I wake up between 5 and 6 am to bundle up in my warmest pajamas, have my tea and peanut butter toast, and write for a few hours. Then it's time to get dressed and plow through the snow to work. I get home between 6 and 7 pm and have just enough energy left to eat dinner and shower before I collapse.

By the end of the week I'm a zombie. On Saturday mornings, I tell myself I "should" open up Word and get cracking. But I can't bring myself to do much of anything other than throw the laundry into the machines and nap. And drink a lot of cranberry ginger ale and Candy Cane Lane tea. And nap some more.

I've come to think of this as a good thing.

It seems every successful writer, when asked for advice on how to succeed, will inevitably say, "You have to think of writing as a job. Whether you feel like it or not, you just have to glue your behind to that chair and crank out the words. Every single day. No days off." That vulgar Americanism, "weekend," is not in the vocabulary of a Productive Person.

I used to believe that too. In high school, I would lock myself up with my textbooks and study all weekend. When I wasn't studying, I was practicing my flute or running up mountains. I felt the need to accomplish things every second of every hour of every day.

Then I moved to Indiana and met Sweetie. He put a game controller in my hand and said, "Try it. It's fun."

I said, "Fun? What is this 'fun' of which you speak?"

I've since learned that pushing yourself to accomplish things all day, every day is a bad idea for several reasons. For one, stressing yourself out all the time is bad for your health. For another, rushing through life with a hyper-competitive, must-write-a-million-books-before-I-die mentality severely limits your worldview. If you do nothing but glue your behind to a chair and crank out words every day, you'll quickly run out of thoughts worth writing. And eventually, you're going to burn out.

Below is the definition of "burnout" from an article in Psychology Today.

Burnout is a state of chronic stress that leads to:

• physical and emotional exhaustion
• cynicism and detachment
• feelings of ineffectiveness and lack of accomplishment

I've watched burnout settle like dark clouds of cynicism over several promising series. The first book or two would be vibrant and fascinating. Then as the authors pushed out more books, the protagonists become less likeable. The voices become less engaging. Reviewers started complaining, "I loved this author's other books and I was so excited when this one came out, but I couldn't get into it. The heroine just cries all the time and she's mean to people for no reason."

To a cozy mystery writer, cynicism is the kiss of death. Cozy fans don't want to read books by Debbie Downers. They can tell when an author's heart isn't into her work, when she doesn't love or even know her characters anymore, and when she starts rambling about whatever just to get the stupid thing done.

Just like it's a singer's professional responsibility to take care of her voice, and an athlete's responsibility to take care of her muscles, it's a cozy mystery writer's responsibility to take care of her psyche. In order to write books that make people happy, we have to maintain happy outlooks on life.

I'm not a psychologist or an Elizabeth Gilbert, but here are the little tricks I use to cope with the pressures of working full-time as a systems librarian, juggling contract web development projects, and trying to make a name for myself in fiction writing.

1. Schedule "not writing" time.

I often see people advise, "You have to schedule time to write and stick to it." I haven't yet seen anyone say, "And it's equally important to schedule time to not write."

On the Saturdays I wake up and don't feel like writing, I make other concrete plans. I tell Sweetie, "Today I'm going to go shopping, and then we're going to have teriyaki burgers, and then I'm going to bake a cheesecake and watch Korean dramas." And I promise myself not to feel guilty about any of it.

Early last week, Sweetie asked for a block of time on Saturday to put up the Christmas tree. So I committed myself to a Not Writing Day dedicated to holiday preparations.

We bought this tree in my sophomore year of college from a dying Kmart. Miraculously, this teetering hunk of plastic has survived nine years of Christmases, a cross-country move, and multiple attacks by a badly behaved cat.

I baked pumpkin scones for our afternoon snack, and then I spent the rest of the day on Not Writing Commitment #2, making treats for a holiday party at work next Wednesday. The college mascot is the bobcat, so I used a paw-print-shaped mold to make red and green candies with a dark chocolate filling. I call them "Bobcat Bites."

2. Take full advantage of your "not writing" time.

When people yo-yo diet, they go through cycles of overly restrictive periods followed by fits of binging. When binging, they don't savor treats they genuinely enjoy. They instead stuff themselves with a ton of cheap junk food they hardly taste and don't even like, as a way of punishing themselves. Celebrating at a restaurant with family, they'll refuse even a small forkful of the decadent chocolate lava cake. Then at home, they'll inhale a whole box of stale animal crackers.

Similarly, when I was a Type A overachiever, I'd allow myself only a kind of "junk happiness." Whenever I "slacked off" or "procrastinated," I'd do things that weren't even fun. I'd zone out to aggravating TV shows, or I'd waste hours reading boring magazine articles about how I've been painting my nails the wrong way all this time.

Now if a show doesn't interest me, I stop watching it. If a book or magazine doesn't make me happy, I stop reading it. I try to choose activities I really enjoy and wring every drop of happiness out of my downtime.

3. Know your limits, and stop pushing when you meet them.

It's true that in order to finish a book, there are days you have to sit down and write when you're just not into it. But there are also days when pushing yourself to write will do more harm than good.

Here's what Sweetie and I always ask each other when we're undecided about doing something: "If you don't do this, will you regret it?"

If I don't feel like writing in the morning, I ask myself whether I'll regret skipping that day. Usually the answer is yes. I know if I don't write, I'll feel empty and disappointed in myself when it comes time to go to work. But on some days, the answer is no, I won't regret skipping at all. I'll be more relaxed and content if I do something else. Those are the days I know I shouldn't force myself.