Jeff Cohen, Author at Black Mask

Jeff Cohen

Writeth Ye A Bible, Sayeth the Editor

Books, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

Jun 172013

Oh, relax. This post isn't about religion.

Having spent the past few weeks revising and then re-revising both a full-length book and a novella (don't ask), and now preparing to stare Book #6 in the Haunted Guesthouse series in the face, I have come to a really disturbing conclusion about my own mind.

I am incapable of remembering what I've written. Well, not all of it, anyway.

Now, this would not be a very serious problem at all if I'd written what we lovingly call "standalones," books that begin and end and are not intended to be continued in any way. But I don't; I write series books. So the characters and their travails are meant to go on for as long as the reading public and the publisher wish for them to do so.

Therein lies the rub, dear reader: I don't always remember what the hell I've written before. So details can get by, and when I decide to write something new, it's inconsistent with what has come before. For CHANCE OF A GHOST, the current novel, in which Alison's father re-enters her life after being dead for five years, it took a half-day of research to find out if I'd ever mentioned his name before, and if so, what it might be.

It's Jack, but that's not the point.

So in a conversation with my editor, the luminous Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, the subject of writing a bible for the series was broached.

A bible, you say? Yes. That's a term probably taken from the television industry, in which the creator of a series writes up all the relevant data about the main character, the premise, all the other charactes and any signficant events, dates, characteristics or opinions ("I hate herring!") that might become relevant, or at least should be consistent, when the next episode in the series is produced. This avoids problems like, for example, having Mr. Spock fall in love with Lt. Uhura, because he's a logical, unemotional Vulcan and that could never happen. It'd just be silly.

So a bible for the Haunted Gueshouse series seems like a very good idea. It would help to centralize all the information about Alison Kerby and her family and friends, to keep facts straight and avoid emails from angry readers (oh, you'd be amazed) who found something on p. 194 three books back that indicates Alison doesn't like to eat tuna fish sandwiches on Wednesdays. And it would help me, going forward, not say things I'll just have to rewrite once the aforementioned Ms. Jamieson Vazquez gets her hands on it, or the proofreader decides to take matters into his/her own hands.

There's just one problem: I don't want to write the bible. Not the one(s) that people like to quote chapter and verse, and not one for my own series.

First, it would require that I re-read each story I've written in the series. I know, you're saying, "Hey, you wrote them, so that's not such a chore," and "it's only four books." Well, the part about the four books forget, because there are also two novellas (one coming in October) and one more book (almost) completely done (coming November 5). So, seven stories altogether.

But the bigger problem is that I cringe at the thought of reading that much of my work all in a row. I see every tiny problem, every line of dialogue I'd write in another way now, every question I had to answer, every silly plot device I thought was a great idea at the time, and every nutty murderer I wrote who really could have solved his/her problem in some other way much more easily. (Not to be too grandiose, but) Picasso probably looked at Guernica and said, "Black and white? What was I thinking?"

Worse, that much reading, even (or perhaps especially) of my own work makes me sleepy. To be fair, if it's the right time of the day, any amount of reading will make me sleepy. About 3 in the afternoon, you can walk up to me with a STOP sign to read, and I'll nod off just before the "O".

Then there's the whole issue of writing down EVERYTHING that might eventually be relevant. How do I know what's going to be relevant two books from now? I don't. So I'll have to write down every possible detail in every sentence. Why not just keep re-reading the books? All I'll have cut out is all the "I"s and the "she said"s.

There's a certain hubris among authors--we designed these characters, these places, these plots. We have created universes. How dare it be assumed that we can't change whatever we want? Well, it's fine when we remember what we've done before and make choices to change things given the new circumstances we conjure up. If Alison's 11-year-old daughter Melissa has a new friend, that's okay; she doesn't have to spend all her time with Wendy. But if suddenly Alison referred to her daughter as "Melinda," that would be a problem.

So I imagine the bible is an inevitability. But it's not going to happen anytime soon, trust me. Book #6 must come first.

If I ask you what someone's name was in Book #2, just indulge me. My memory isn't what it used to be.

All A-Twitter

Books, Current Affairs, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

Jun 102013

Jeff Cohen

This is NOT an attempt to step on Erin's feet. I am by no means an expert in publicity or promotion, as is evidenced by the fact that you probably stumbled on this post by accident, or because you've read one of Josh's or Lynne's (or any of the other brilliant bloggers' here) posts and just kept coming back.

But for the past 10 years or so, since I've been a published author, I've observed other published authors, both more financially successful and about the same as myself. And one of the key things I've noticed is that these days (and this will come as news to absolutely no one), an author must have an online presence to establish his/herself in the minds of readers.

And that, after a while, leads to Twitter.

The 140-character sensation/punchline/end-of-civilization-as-we-know-it is both a potential boon to writers and an equally likely downfall wrapped in chocolate. For an author hoping to become better known among readers, Twitter offers virtually unlimited promotional opportunities. It has a number of drawbacks as well, including the fact that only those who already know about the author are likely to "follow" the Twitter feed of that writer to begin with.

I'll leave it up to Erin to explain how a writer might go about building his/her number of Twitter followers, and whether she thinks it's a good idea (okay, Erin?). I have about 1000 followers, which is the Twitter equivalent of going out to a restaurant and reserving a table for one. But I will note a few observations on what you might want to include in your (and I grimace even as I use the word) tweets:

1. Don't always be tweeting about your book. This is the equivalent of never updating your Facebook status except to say that people should purchase a copy of your latest tome. It becomes annoying so fast that you'll lose followers quickly, and frankly, nobody's going to buy your book based on a 140-character pitch anyway.

2. Don't tweet as your character. That's so cutesy it's probably illegal to do without actually dispensing insulin to your followers. And, it comes across as violating Rule #1.

3. If you write under a pseudonym, tweet under the pseudonym. I write both ways, so I have one account as myself, and one as E.J. Copperman. E.J., despite having a huge lead in Facebook friends, enjoys far fewer Twitter followers than I have. One possible reason: E.J. often violates Rule #1, and doesn't tweet very often at all, thereby killing any potential momentum. (We are falling here into "do as I say, not as I do" territory.) I never claimed to be an expert. On anything.

4. Tweet often, but not every minute. It's a delicate balance. Authors who don't go on Twitter more than once a month and then tweet something like, "Buy my book" are asking for failure. On the other hand, authors who tweet--about anything--every few minutes and won't leave their followers alone run the risk of becoming annoying. Risk? Ha! They'll definitely become annoying.

5. Definitely retweet others, but only when you like what they said. Twitter is about social networking and having a conversation, not just about you. So when you think someone else--even, yes, a competing author--says something you think is witty, or true, or simply worth repeating, hit the "retweet" button. It costs you nothing. However, just retweeting random comments so you can show someone more famous is following you is just a way of showing off and will not impress anybody, since they're probably being followed by the President. In more ways than one. Which leads me to...

6. Give serious thought before tweeting anything about politics or religion. And then, probably don't do it. I understand the temptation, believe me. My blood boils at the same temperature as yours, and I have not been 100% perfect on this score myself. But it does you no good in the popularity annals, and strikingly, the world remains largely unchanged despite your pontification.

7. Don't expect Twitter to make you famous. Unless you're the Bronx Zoo Cobra, it's highly unlikely that any social network alone will turn you into an overnight sensation. Those who have gained unusual levels of fame through what they tweet or post on Facebook would probably love to have back the second before they hit the "Send" button (ask Anthony Weiner). What Twitter or anything else online can do for you is raise your profile a little, get out news when there's news to get out, and maybe provide a little communication between you and your readers, which is almost never a bad thing. So get out there and (you should pardon the expression) tweet!

But don't ask me to explain that thing on Fridays where people just tweet lists of other people's Twitter names. I think it's sweet when someone includes me, but I haven't a clue what it's all about.

Jon Stewart will return to The Daily Show in 85 days.

Is the Character Me? Yes! And, no!

Books, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

Jun 032013

Jeff Cohen

A person who publishes a book willfully appears before the populace with his pants down.

--Edna St. Vincent Millay

It's always fun to get questions from readers. Really. When a reader asks an author a question, it shows an interest in the work that's gratifying. And to be honest, there are few things that are as fragile and hungry as an author's ego. So all in all, it's a win/win situation when a reader asks an author something about a book.

The most frequently asked question I hear is the one that's most difficult to answer. Readers who read any of my books, from the first Aaron Tucker novel to the latest Haunted Guesthouse mystery will ask, "Is the character you?" or "Did you really..." about any given incident or action in the book.

And when asked, I always answer that no, nothing in the book has ever really happened, and I make up every word that appears in every piece of fiction I have ever written. And that is entirely true. Is the character actually a version of me?

Now, that question is trickier.

Let me begin by saying that, no, none of the characters I have ever written is me. Not entirely. I have never set out to write myself into any of the stories I've concocted. I don't consider myself either an especially heroic or villainous person, and wouldn't ever portray myself in fiction as unimportant nor mediocre (see comment above re: ego).

But to say that an author can ever create a character who is not part of his/her own mind is to misunderstand the process of creative writing. In order to make a character breathe on the page, no matter how successful one is to do so, a writer has to think for that character, to understand what the character's purpose in the scene might be, and what that character would think its purpose might be, and what wants and needs the character would bring to the moment.

In other words, if you can't get into the character's head, you can't possibly write the character convincingly.

Remember this: Every character an author writes--EVERY character--thinks the story is about THEM. Characters, after all, don't know they're in a book. They think they're living their lives and dealing with the situations thrown at them. Any time a character acts in a way that betrays it's at the author's convenience, that the plot is driving the character's actions (and not the other way around), the author doesn't know the character well enough and, frankly, isn't doing his/her job.

Every story you've ever written and every character is each of those stories is the product of an author's imagination. And if you think that's anything other than an act of amazing, idiotic bravery, you've never tried it.

Any person who has ever been silly enough to write down his/her imaginings and then dared to ask others to read it has taken a chance. We all fantasize; we all daydream. Everybody asks, "What if..." inside his/her mind at some point or another. It's those of us who feel the inexplicable urge to communicate those fancies to others who must be in some way demented. We are asking total strangers to understand those thoughts we have that we don't completely understand ourselves, and to love them.

So is that me on the page? Sure it is. Because there's no way I could have written those words if I hadn't thought of them first. It's not possible to create characters who have no relation to your own thinking. Do we act on all the thoughts we write down? I hope not--Hannibal Lecter is a fictional character, after all--but don't think for a moment that the characters we write are completely outside our own selves.

Because they have to come from somewhere.

Sex, sex, sex! (Okay, Gender)

Books, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

May 272013

Jeff Cohen

I love hearing from readers. Truly, I do. Every one of them, even the ones who send emails to tell you how disappointed they were while reading your book (Really? You had to take time out of your day to inform me of that?). They ask questions, many of them say nice things about the work, and sometimes they try to get you to read their work, something I never do, for legal and otherwise common sense reasons.

But the emails that come in through the account for E.J. Copperman are special. They do pretty much the same things as the others, but the readers who get in touch are dealing with an unknown, as very little personal information on E.J. exists, mostly because there isn't any.

The best part is that they think E.J. is a woman.

I've posted here before on my delight at that assumption; it means that the illusion is working and the voice of the Haunted Guesthouse novels is authentic enough, which is very pleasing. Much of the credit goes to the series editor, Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, who is a bona fide woman and nudges me back in line when I make Alison sound too guy-y.

But the interesting reactions come when people find out that E.J. is indeed more a man than, you know, not. They are, in some cases, astounded. Again, I take that as a compliment. The questions one gets, however, are a little baffling.

"How can you possibly write from a woman's point of view?"

Roughly half the people on the planet are female. If, as a writer of fiction, I can't imagine their point of view, I had better restrict myself to stories in men's correctional institutions or look for another line of work.

Spencer Quinn (aka Peter Abrahams, not to spoil your illusion) writes a series of mystery novels in which the narrator is the detective's dog. I'll give you a moment, if you haven't read Chet and Bernie (and you should). A dog. And he's the narrator.

Now, a number of questions might leap to the mind of the astute reader. For example, can the dog type? Does he write these things while his human counterpart is asleep? Has Bernie read the books? Does Chet dictate them to a person who can decipher barking into human English? None of these issues are addressed in the books.

But nobody bats an eye when Quinn/Abrahams writes from the dog's point of view. I write from a female character's viewpoint, and it's amazing?

I know it's hard to fathom, but I've met a number of women in my life. I'm married to one of them. We've been living together for 26 years. Another was one of the two people who raised me. I lived in her house for 20 years. Writers observe other people and use what they observe to create fiction. I have observed women. (When I was younger, I observed women a LOT, but I'm married now. To a woman.)

If I wasn't able to at least speculate about what a female human might think in any given situation, I'd be a pretty bad writer. So the astonishment at being able to create believable characters who are women eludes me.

Of course I can write women. I can write men, or children. Or dogs, if I decide to put my mind to it. I've written beings from other planets (not in books). I've written movie stars. Soldiers. Police officers. Ghosts. Never been any of those things, either.

It doesn't seem to bother anybody that I can write at least somewhat believable murderers without having killed anyone (that I can discuss). But a woman! Amazing! How does he do it?

I imagine stuff and write it down. That's my job. Thanks for being shocked that I can fool you sometimes; it means I must be doing something right.

I’d Love to Turn… You… On…

Books, Current Affairs, Film, Jeffrey Cohen, Television, Writing Comments Off

May 202013

Jeff Cohen

A few weeks ago, I asked not for suggestions on topics, but more in the area of feedback on categories that I post about here at DEAD GUY. I asked for said feedback to be posted at the DEAD GUY Facebook page as a clever way of steering loyal (and even disloyal) readers there, and because I do wonder sometimes what those who visit each week are hoping to see here.

What I got, of course, were suggestions for future posts, which were made here and not at the Facebook page. I truly do need to work on my clarity.

Nonetheless. Since one of the few topics suggested more than once was a look at the average day of the fairly average author (as far as I know; I rarely watch other authors during an average day and have no point of reference), I thought I would take a look at that idea today. I truly do want to give readers here what they come here to see... up to a point.

So let's see what the average day (not spent teaching, which is a whole other day) is like, shall we?

7 a.m. (or thereabouts): stumble out of bed vowing to work through the day, go downstairs and look at the overnight emails. This consists mostly of deleting spam. About 1% of the email you get overnight is relevant to your life. This practice is followed by going through a scan of the daily web sites, which includes seeing what Garry Trudeau has thought up today, how things are going in Major League Baseball, who the guest on The Daily Show might be tonight, and whether or not my daughter is available for a Facebook chat. (She comes home in 12 days, but am I counting?)

7:30 (all times approximates, just to save us the trouble): Check the bank statement to see what I've foolishly bought in the past 24 hours. Sometimes I forget. Also a quick check on Chance of a Ghost to see whether I can afford what I've bought in the past 24 hours. Of course, check in on DEAD GUY and the DEAD GUY Facebook page.

7:45: The New York Times. Yes, an actual tree-killing newspaper. Delivered to my home, every day. This is not a page-by-page read because it gets too depressing or infuriating depending on the day. Also because a full read would take me into somewhere around noon. Scan headlines, read articles that interest. Definitely check sports (during baseball season), the Arts (all the time) and the business section on Mondays (media and publishing).

8:15: The New York Times crossword puzzle. Do not try to contact me then. And as the week goes on, the time spent on it will only increase. After finishing, check with Rex Parker to see whether he and I agree on the puzzle (we usually don't, because he is infinitely better at it than I am).

Let's say 8:45: Exercise with the Wii. This is considerably more arduous than you think, so wipe that giggle out of your mouth. I use a fairly strenuous program, especially for someone as massively uninterested in exercise as I am. Also spend this time listening to music, because listening to a computer-generated "trainer" tell you what to do is an intolerable activity for anyone with a functioning neurological system.

9:45: Shower (believe me, you want me to) and change clothes.

10:15: Respond to emails, particularly business related ones. If there's a newspaper assignment, make phone calls. If not, don't.

10:30: Rouse son from sleep. This is not time-consuming (for me).

10:31: Usually there's some teaching stuff to do, like grading papers or preparing for this week's classes. If not, think about writing. Don't write.

Noon: Lunch. Usually spent while flipping around channels to see if TCM has a really weird "classic" movie on or if MLB Network is counting down the 9 best lefthanded relievers whose names begin with an "L." (I hold out hope for Sparky Lyle.)

12:30 p.m.: Give serious consideration to a nap. More likely, watch a TED Talk. And fall asleep for 15 minutes. Not because the talk is boring; it isn't.

12:45: First time checking for mail today. Find none (the mail comes every day between 2:30 and 3 p.m., and you'd think I'd allow for that--I don't). If there are telephone interviews to do for a newspaper article, do them. (Time on this is flexible, like if the phone rings at anytime during the day.)

12:45 and 30 seconds: Read over what I wrote yesterday, decide it isn't as bad as I thought, and do a little editing.

1:30: Look for daughter on Facebook again. This leads to Internet procrastination. When not actually trying to lose weight, it's possible a snack will be involved. If there is a newspaper deadline, write newspaper article.

3:00: Write beyond yesterday's installment. Probably not very much. Procrastination is so much easier when you think you have time. Read mail, which has arrived. Throw out 95 percent of it.

4:00: Get out guitar by way of "clearing my head." Play as long as nobody can hear me, possibly with headphones on, listening to real musicians and pretending I'm 1/30th as good as them.

5:15: Greet wife at door. Discuss dinner, Decide who will prepare it. Watch wife go out for a run, to show off that she cares more about exercise than I do (but then, who doesn't?).

6:00 Prepare dinner, unless wife has lost argument. Wife never loses argument, but sometimes wants to prepare dinner anyway.

7:00: Dinner with wife and son, unless son is working.

7:30: Watch last night's Daily Show. Laugh uproariously. Possibly check out other television or Netflix movie. If during baseball season, check in on game.

10:00: Get serious about writing 1000 words. Actually write 1000 words.

10:30: Say goodnight to wife, promise to be up in "five minutes."

11:30: Head upstairs vowing to work all the way through tomorrow. After exercising.

7:00 a.m. Repeat.

Suggestions?

Josh Getzler Comments Off

May 142013

Josh Getzler

So I was sitting at home last night and my wife was talking about the term papers she was grading, and saying that she wished her students understood better how to write about history with greater authenticity. "Hmm," I thought, "the difference between authentic- and inauthentic-sounding historical fiction would make a great blog post." I wrote it down.

This morning, Assistant Extraordinaire Danielle and I were talking about different times to (or not to) build one's social network. "Hmm," I thought..."another one."

But while I do generate many of these posts organically, through things I read or discuss, I am actively searching for some new topics. So I'm going to open this up a little. What would folks like to hear? It's not a straight Q and A like Ben sometimes does. But rather subjects that seem both consistent with what I typically discuss and what you'd like to hear. Lay em on me! Now I need to go turn into a pumpkin for a couple of days. Have a good week!

How To Escape–Or Not

Books, Film, Jeffrey Cohen, Television, Writing Comments Off

May 132013

Jeff Cohen

I notice I've been blogging a lot lately about respect for "light" entertainment, like the books I write but also about television and movies that aren't necessarily considered the most "important" examples of their medium.

There is a certain "middle child syndrome" that comes from growing up in New Jersey, constantly stuck between our evil overlords in New York and the cocksure wiseguys in Philadelphia (they boo their own teams there!). But this isn't simply about feeling unappreciated--I have it pretty good, myself, and I have what I think is a reasonably clear picture of the kind of thing I do. I'm fine with it.

But. There is a tendency among critics, media reporters and in some cases those in the industry to look at the supposed "light" entertainments and dismiss them as simple, empty-headed (get ready for the word of the week) "escapism." The idea is that entertainment like books, theater, film and TV (and one assumes now online things like cats on skateboards or something) help the reader, viewer, or absorber--I love it when they talk about us "consuming" entertainment; I can eat pretty prodigiously, but I don't think I could handle that--mentally break with reality and provide some way to avoid dealing with the horrors of everday life.

Let's see how many different things are wrong with that idea, shall we?

First: ALL fiction is some form of escape, in that it insists that the audience member (and that's the term we'll use for all media, okay?) suspend thinking about his/her current circumstance and pay some attention to one of the creator's design. In order for "Crime and Punishment" to work, the reader has to stop thinking about his life and start participating in the ones Dostoyevsky dreamed up. And anyone who thinks "Crime and Punishment" is "light escapism" should be kept away from sharp objects.

Beyond that, though, is the assumption that light entertainment (which is code for "anything that's not depressing or, heaven forbid, might try to be funny") is in some way secondary or inferior because it bears no resemblance to the dark, hideous truth that is human existence.

If your view of life is that it is all misery, you should stop reading this blog immediately and seek out someone who can help you. (Or go make another movie, Woody.) And if you think that comic or "light" forms of entertainment can succeed if they don't reflect reality, you don't understand the concept of entertainment.

In order for a story, a joke, or a piece of music to be successful, it has to connect with an audience. It has to reach people, and they have to find something in it that relates to their lives. That's basic. You can write a book from the perspective of a house plant if you feel like it, but the story had better be about human emotions and human interaction, even if it's reflected in plants. Do you think "Animal Farm" is about, you know, animals?

So if Blazing Saddles makes you laugh, at least part of that laughter will be a form of recognition: "I get that because I know people who might act like that, or think that way." Sure, it's exaggerated, but don't tell me it isn't true.

Do people sometimes need a way to distract themselves from their troubles? Of course they do. Some of my favorite emails from readers have been from people who read my book in hospital rooms with desperately ill relatives or after a loved one's death. They say the book takes their mind off difficult thoughts sometimes, and thank me for that.

One of my favorite booksellers (besides you, Marilyn!) recently told me that she'd sold a copy of one of the Haunted Guesthouse books to a special customer, one who had managed to escape (not without injury) from the World Trade Center in 2001. She said her customer had been having a hard time dealing with people, but showed up for a book club meeting to discuss my book.

She said my book was the first one--almost 12 years later--this customer had read all the way through since 9/11.

Escapism? Maybe. But don't you dare tell me it's not important.

Go Ahead. Disagree.

Books, Film, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

May 062013

Jeff Cohen

There are two things you are never supposed to say out loud (actually, there are plenty of things you are never supposed to say out loud, and I believe you should say most of them): You're never supposed to say that you don't like listening to Frank Sinatra sing, or that you're not crazy about The Godfather.

Well, I'm here to say both. So you can start yelling at me as soon as you've finished reading the rest of the post.

Sinatra: Yeah, the guy had a nice voice. It is also true that he was not a terribly wonderful human being. That's not always a deal breaker with me, but in his case it's hard to get around. Overlook the way he and his Rat Pack pals misinformed generations of young men on how to behave. Forget the treatment of women and the palling around with organized crime (we'll get to that in a minute); I'm just not that moved by his singing. It's all about technique and rarely about the song being sung; each note seems to want to draw attention to itself and say, "Listen! I'm being sung really skillfully!" Until, of course, we reach the dooby-dooby-doo period, at which time even the "nice voice" thing is in serious doubt. If I never hear his version of "New York, New York" again, I'd only be sorry because it would mean the Yankees hadn't won the game.

But more egregious than that declaration, perhaps, is the lack of respect for Francis Ford Coppola's adaptation of the Mario Puzo novel The Godfather, which pretty much anybody who's ever seen a film has decided is, if not the greatest movie ever made, certainly in the top five.

Except me.

For one thing, I resent the legacy of the movie--since its incredibly successful release, I've had to deal with fictional gangsters ranging from the ridiculous to the just plain annoying. No, I wasn't a fan of The Sopranos, for the record, and not only because it helped fuel the prejudices of just about everyone about my home state. I'm not watching Steve Buscemi--an actor I usually like a lot--in his Atlantic City gangster show, either.

Because the fact of the matter is, I'm sick of gangsters. How the hell many ways are there to dramatize organized crime from the sympathetic perspective of the criminals? And why is that a good idea? Those who think Al Pacino and Marlon Brando were bringing something new to the party in 1972 because they were showing us that gangsters are people apparently had missed 80 percent of the movies Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney ever made.

On top of that, guess what: Gangsters are not nice people. They tend to steal from those who can't afford it, kill those whom they are not especially crazy about, corrupt law enforcement and government, deal drugs (or, in the good old days, alcohol), cause pain and generally contribute to a system that doesn't need any help in making things tough for the little guy.

From a movie standpoint: The Godfather is too damn long. Its dialogue is often hard to hear. Its lighting is intentionally dark (we're making an existential point here, people, so pay attention!). Its performances are certainly compelling, but its characters are uniformly unpleasant and hard to watch. We are encouraged to side with one group of gangsters--the good ones, I guess--and against others, including the scheming Jews. (I would not for one second deny there were Jewish gangsters, by the way.)

So don't come to me and quote chapter and verse from the sacred Book of Michael Corleone, okay? I realize I'm demonstrating my awful taste when I say I'd rather watch any of a hundred movies again before I check out the grand opera that is the "masterpiece" of The Godfather; I don't care.

You are unquestionably entitled to believe that it's the greatest single achievement in all of Cinema. Just as I am entitled to prefer Horse Feathers. This is America. See the movie you want.

Albany in September, For Sure!

Books, Jeffrey Cohen, Writing Comments Off

Apr 292013

Jeff Cohen

I won't be heading to Bethesda, Maryland this coming weekend. I'm a little bummed about that, but I'm sure all my pals at the Malice Domestic conference will have a swell time, perhaps lift a glass or two, go out to a lovely dinner, and participate in interesting panels with some of the warmest fans in all of Mysterydom.

Alas, I am not able to hit the trail this time, the first Malice I have missed in a few years. But the travel budget remains fairly well depleted since Edinburgh and our good friends at the IRS took the rest. I am scheduled for Bourcheron in Albany this coming September, however, and maybe a couple of other trips next year.

I intend to be back at Malice in 2014, with no scheduled sojourns abroad to compete.

It's rough to stay on the sidelines when the Malice crowd (and I expect full reports--mention either one of my names to those who would care!) gathers. It is a welcoming bunch, always a fun weekend. I am hoping my ears will be burning from Thursday to Sunday.

Conferences are funny things: For we who live in Midlistia, they are not really places where we rack up huge book sales. They can be humbling experiences, as well. The ultra-successful authors who show up are sure to draw crowds and remind us of how much work we have yet to do. That's okay; it's good to stay hungry (which I have been rediscovering as I attempt to re-lose some weight).

But the flip side is that many of the readers who come to cons have actually heard of our work. I've yet to come to a convention where at least a few people didn't come up and say nice things about my books. It's an ego boost, for sure.

And then there is the good and great companionship of the other authors. This is a very competitive industry, but you'd never know it when a group of us get together at the bar. No cold shoulders here, no hint that my book sale might mean yours sits on the shelf five minutes longer (which is not true anyway). There is much laughter when crime fiction writers gather, and it is genuine.

So I'll miss my pals like Nikki Bonnani, Parnell Hall, Neil Plakcy, Roberta Isleib (Lucy Burdette), Hank Phillipi Ryan, Toni L.P. Kelner, Jane Cleland, Con Lehane, Elaine Viets and Sheila York. It's too bad I won't be there to see Cindy Silverblatt honored as a fan, or Laura Lippman as toastmaster, which I'm betting will be wonderufl.

And I won't be seeing my pals at the annual Berkley dinner, including my taskmistress editor Shannon Jamieson Vazquez (can you tell I'm doing revisions?), always a fun time.

But there will be next year, and I'll be there. Promise.

What Michael Nesmith Teaches Us About Writing

Books, Film, Jeffrey Cohen, Television, Writing Comments Off

Apr 222013

Jeff Cohen

There's wings to the thought behind fancy;

There's wings to the thought behind play

--Michael Nesmith, "Rio"

Those of us who traffic in "lighter" fare are used to a certain level of condescension. After all, books that might make you laugh are rarely called "important" or included on Best of the Year lists. Even the terms associated with comedy based writing--"light," "breezy," "humorous" (ugh!) or "comfortable"--are backhanded compliments.

But by far, my least favorite is "effortless."

Let's sum that one up: An author comes up with a story idea. That is developed into a full plot, given characters to populate it, twists to its plot and words for its people to say. It is expected to have the same depth of character, intrigue of plot, pacing, believability and level of involvement that a "serious" book would have.

Now, add laughs. Legitimate ones. Not the cheap stuff that any writer might concoct. We're talking professional comedy that is aimed at a readership that could be comprised of just about anyone. And those of us who do that hope that we're reaching you with all those elements at once.

Effortless?

Believe me, there's effort involved.

Now. When a reviewer or other observer says that the work "reads effortlessly," or "seems effortless," I am flattered. That's the goal--comedy shouldn't show the sweat; it should feel like it's spontaneous and natural. That's a good thing.

But when "effortless" is used independently--"the comedy is effortless"--that is insulting. There was effort; the craft is in not showing it. But it should be acknowledged.

Nitpicking? Maybe I am; I do tend to get defensive about this stuff. That doesn't mean the observation isn't legitimate. Respect the effort by noting its invisibility. End of sermon.

I don't believe in Writer's Block. I DO believe in another ailment, however: Blogger's Block. The only time I ever spend staring at a blank screen with no idea what's coming next is on some occasions when I'm facing a posting date and I don't know what I'm going to be writing about. I don't know what regular readers of this space (on Mondays) want to see, necessarily: Personal insights? Writing tips? Humor? Recipes (don't ask for recipes!)?

So I'm asking visitors who have suggestions--and I know you have suggestions--to drop by our Facebook page and offer them. Drop us a line. Let us know what you like, what you get from DEAD GUY, what you'd like to see. I can't speak for anyone from Tuesday to Sunday, but let me know what you want to see on Monday, and I'll TRY to provide it.

Just don't expect that it'll be effortless.

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