"Stick With Said," I Averred

I try to avoid dialogue tags, instead preferring to follow up dialogue with characters' actions or reactions.

But when I use them, I prefer to stay simple. "Said" and "asked" are my bread-and-butter; once in a while I'll throw in a "whispered" or "replied." Of course, there's no right answer in this on-going debate--many writers use all sorts of more varied (and colorful) dialogue tags.

I guess it boils down to a personal preference. For me, I don't want the dialogue tag to overshadow the words being spoken.

I decided to do a little back-of-the-envelope analysis on the dialogue tags I used in DIAMONDS FOR THE DEAD. Here are the tallies (tag, followed by the number of times used as a tag):

Said 386
Asked 125
Added 6
Called (out) 5
Whispered 2
Blurted 2
Replied 1
Muttered 1
Mumbled, questioned, hissed, joked, answered, continued, responded, yelled, screamed, uttered 0

What say you about dialogue tags?

Blogged Down

I'm getting blogged down, big time.

Time management has been a challenge for me lately. I know it's a refrain everyone sings ("too much to do, too little time") but for me, things have gotten a lot busier in the last six months.

One culprit--and there are many--is all the time I spend on-line, checking Facebook, Twitter, ning, and "catching up" on my favorite blogs (I hate the thought of missing out on some important piece of information. See this previous post.)

To help manage my blog reading, I use Google Reader (of course, the term "manage" is a laugh, because my blog reading is anything but managed). Currently, my Google Reader tracks 116 blog subscriptions. 116! Add to those all the additional blogs I'll see mentioned somewhere that I click through to read. How can I possibly read them all?

Exactly how much time am I spending reading blogs? I've never been brave enough to tally it up. But let's do a little math. Assume only one third of the blogs I follow have a new post each day. If I spend an average of three minutes reading/commenting on each one, that works out to...about two hours!! EACH DAY!

I don't know about you, but I've got other stuff I could (should) be doing in those two hours.

Anybody have any solutions, besides "stop reading so many blogs"?

DIAMONDS For Sale

There are still seven months before the official release date for DIAMONDS FOR THE DEAD, but I'm beginning to see signs that my book will become a real, honest-to-goodness physical entity (instead of existing in some feverish, tantalizing dream).

This week, my cover art became "official."

As you probably know (or can quickly surmise by glancing to the right and checking out the covers of my fellow MIers), Midnight Ink has a tradition of producing tremendous covers. And, in my completely unbiased and purely objective opinion, this cover is no exception (giant kudos to cover designer Ellen Dahl. Thanks, Ellen!).

The overall image is (pick one or more adjectives): intriguing, mysterious, ominous, compelling. The slanted lettering juxtaposed against the slanted rectangle reflects the off-kilter feelings of the protagonist. And, amazingly, the cover manages to evoke scenes from both the beginning AND ending of the book. Very, very cool.

Also this week, a "pre-order" listing went up on the Midnight Ink website (it’s on Amazon, too!). Here’s the description:

Talk to anyone in Reston, Virginia, and they'll say Josh Handleman's dad "Honest Abe" was a real mensch. But when Josh returns home to bury his estranged father, he gets the shock of his life: his thrifty dad was filthy rich. Oy!

Who was this man who donated millions to charity, invested in the dreams of Josh's friends, and shared his home with a strange vodka-swilling Russian? Apparently, Abe collected diamonds too. But when Josh can't find the gems, he begins to wonder if his dad's death was truly an accident.

Hounded by grief and remorse, Josh resolves to find his dad's diamond stash—which could be his inheritance and proof of his father's love. What he doesn't realize is that this emotionally charged treasure hunt is taking him closer to his dad's killer.

Of course, with a great cover and a great title (kudos to the whole Midnight Ink team!), I really feel the pressure. Will my words between the covers live up to these lofty expectations?

I hope so.

 

(This entry is “simul-posted” on InkSpot.)

Welcome Home, Buddy.

Until this summer, my muse and I always traveled Discipline Road together. We'd ride along, two amiable pals, setting writing goals and knocking them down. Usually, we'd do it incrementally, a little each day, pounding the keys, building the story. After a while, all the increments would add up to something we deemed worthwhile. It was a system that worked well for both of us (I hope I'm not putting words into my muse's mouth).

Then, this summer we got a little lax. "We'll do some writing tomorrow," we'd say, often simultaneously. "Or maybe the day after. There's a whole mess of other things that need to get done first." So the muse and I would drift off our separate ways. I'd get busy on some new project--learning software, cleaning the house, cybersurfing, whatever. I'm not sure where my muse went most days; all I know is that he wasn't by my side. (Sometimes we did get together to crank out a few blog posts, but otherwise, I hardly saw him. Probably spent a lot of time at the beach, catching up on his reading.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I accomplished a lot this summer, and most of it was important stuff. Unfortunately, I didn't make much headway on my work-in-progress.

I missed my muse.

But, I'm happy to report, my muse returned home yesterday. And he's rarin' to go.

Which is nice.

No Rest for the Procrastinators

Today is the last day of summer, the last day the kids are home before school starts, the last day I have to get all the stuff done that I promised myself I’d get done before summer ended.

It’s going to be a long night!

 

Enjoy your Labor Day!

Stalwart (And Quiet) Friends

When I write, I make sure I've got three stalwart friends sitting next to me.

• Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary
• The Chicago Manual of Style
• Roget's 21st Century Thesaurus

(On the bookshelf behind me, I've got tons of other reference books, including The Best, Worst & Most Unusual, The Dictionary of Clichés, What Happened When, and dozens of other little oddities. I rarely consult them.)

What books do you need at an arm's reach (thanks, Dictionary of Clichés!) when you write?

(A side note -- Last night, I had a nutty dream starring Friend of the Blog (FOB) Jack Regan (in a supporting role), taking place at some kind of book festival. Here's our exchange:

ME: Hey, guess who's my favorite baseball player of all-time?
FOB Jack: (shrug)
ME: Books Robinson
FOB Jack: (snort)

I hope I’m funnier when I’m awake.)

Goodbye Twinkies, Hello Bingles

I discovered something wonderful while on vacation - Carrot Cake Bingles. (I know, I know, you all are probably thinking, "Carrot Cake Bingles, why, they've been my favorite snack food for years!" As usual, I'm late to the party.)

I used to believe in the following: 

I think that I shall never see
A snack as lovely as Twinkie.*

But then Carrot Cake Bingles entered my life. For those of you poor, deprived people (as I was, a mere five days ago), a Carrot Cake Bingle is exactly like a Twinkie, but instead of a golden yellow cake outer layer, scrumptious carrot cake surrounds the yummy filling.

I have two words to describe the person who created the Carrot Cake Bingle: Pure Genius.

You're probably thinking, "What does a Carrot Cake Bingle** have to do with writing?"

I thought long and hard about that too. Finally, I came up with something. My description.

"...a Carrot Cake Bingle is exactly like a Twinkie, but instead of a golden yellow cake outer layer, scrumptious carrot cake surrounds the yummy filling."

Simple, direct, easy to understand. As long as you know what a Twinkie looks and tastes like, you're, um, golden. (And let's face it, who doesn't know about Twinkies?)

Isn't that better than, "a Carrot Cake Bingle is about five inches long and an inch-and-a-half tall (and wide), with a sort of oblong, rounded top. Inside is a vanilla creme filling that tastes vaguely of food-grade chemicals and furniture polish. The cake itself is somewhat reminiscent of carrot cake, if you have a good imagination. Warning: Ingesting too many Carrot Cake Bingles may be hazardous to your health."

It's so much easier to compare a new, unusual item to something that everyone is familiar with. That's a technique I try to employ in my novels, and it cuts down on wordy descriptions. (I like my novels tight, unlike my blog, where I tend to get a bit wordy).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to breakfast. There are a couple Carrot Cake Bingles calling my name.

Footnotes
*Sorry, Joyce!

**I enjoy writing/saying "Carrot Cake Bingle." Try it, you'll like it, too!