What Flavor Jellybean Are You?

Sometimes I like the silly quizzes one can find on the Internet. In honor of the Easter Bunny, I thought I’d post an especially silly one:

What Flavor Jelly Belly Are You?

This quiz lets you pick your favorite jellybean and then tells you what the flavor says about your personality.

For example, I choose margarita. Here was my result:

“Wildly optimistic and jovial, you know how to get through anything with flair. You have a certain "je ne sais quoi" that makes you an alluring companion.”

I don’t know about the French part and my favorite jellybeans are the black ones in any case, but I am optimistic and usually jovial, so not bad.

What does your flavor say about your personality? Do you agree?

P.S. – This image is of George Clooney and is made entirely of Jelly Belly jellybeans! Isn’t he sweet?

Waiting, Eternity, and The Work in Progress

by Julia Buckley

Right now I am awaiting my agent’s thoughts on my manuscript revisions—a nervewracking time for any author—and I got to thinking today about the notion of waiting itself.

There’s a reason that Samuel Beckett used the present participle in his title Waiting for Godot; waiting itself is an existential experience. No matter what one is waiting for—a ride, a letter, a ringing bell—one is always caught in the center between hope and despair. In addition, the wait is an entirely separate entity from what precedes it and whatever might end it. The wait, in many cases, is misery.

Don’t believe me? I’ll show you my youngest son in the month before Christmas. As he sees it, Christmas and its attendant joys are always, always too far away—until they are suddenly there and gone, which brings him brief happiness, then depression. This, then, is the human condition.

My students, when we read Godot, share their own painful experiences of waiting: waiting for the phone call from that special someone; waiting for Christmas break, spring break, graduation; waiting for a report card; waiting for age eighteen, then age twenty-one, then waiting to officially “feel adult.” (Good luck with that one).

George Santayana famously wrote, “There is no cure for birth or death save to enjoy the interval,” and I suppose the challenge is in fact to try to enjoy whatever wait we are currently enduring. The advantage of waiting is that one can lean toward hope, even embrace it, because in that temporary state we can own whatever future our imagination can conceive.

So here’s to waiting: not a misery, but a little moment of the eternal, in which everything is, and everything is not.

(photo by: me, in an existential mood).

Schreck, Konrath, Dombrowski, Jack Daniels

Me, a woman with poor judgment and Konrath...






Today I'm pleased to invite author Joe Konrath to the blog.

Under the name JA Konrath, he writes thrillers and mysteries. Under the name Jack Kilborn, he writes horror. His new horror novel, Afraid, is being released today.

Also, as an exclusive to fans of our books, Joe and I collaborated on a short story featuring Duffy, Jack Daniels, and a few other recognizable characters. You can download and read the story for free right here:

http://www.jakonrath.com/Planters.pdf

When Joe begged me to do an interview with him on my blog, he asked if we could do something different from all of the pleasant, informative, sugar-coated interviews he's already done. So we put on the gloves and went a few rounds. No headgear, no illegal punches.

It's worth noting that Joe and I are good friends, even though we're
both hitting below the belt here. Anything for a laugh...

Tom: You're pretty freakin bizarre both in person and the crap you write about--How'd you get that way? Were you breast fed from falsies?

Joe: If so, I'd be thinner. By the way, thank you for having me here today. I know it was tough to fit me in between all of your... what is it you do again?

Tom: Oh nice, really nice. Mr Big Shot Drive-Across-The-Country-Sucking-Up-To-Bookstore-Owners-Jerk guy. Why don't you go give away another of your unpublished novels--does it
get hard to pick from them all? Never mind... Did you name the main character in your books "Jack Daniels" to give yourself an excuse to always have a bottle of it on you?

Joe: Indeed I did. I'm intimately familiar with the topics I write about. For example, my next novel, called The Unhappy Wife, is the heartbreaking tale of a beautiful woman who is trapped in a bad marriage with a small press author--a guy who was hit in the head too many times and moves his lips when he reads to himself.

You know the type.

In the book, she explores her sensuality with someone a lot more famous who drinks a lot of whiskey. It's really funny, like your Duffy mysteries, except this one is intentionally funny.

Tom: Hmmm...a woman who's really into a man with braided back hair who carries with him the faint scent of Roquefort at all times...Chicks would dig that guy.

But back to the questions. Jack, your main character is a chick with great clothes. When you sit down to write, undoubtedly you do it in women's clothes. Does it help?

Joe: I actually had to put on women's underwear once, playing truth or dare. The question was, "Have you ever put on women's underwear?" and I refused to answer it. So I refuse to answer it here as well.

But, yes, now that you mention it, my books are rollicking joy rides filled with fun, excitement, and danger. But you're no slouch, either. Your books are filled with a lot of things too. Like typos.
Tom: Now you're also Jack Killborn. Is that so when you have sex it automatically becomes a three-way?

Joe: Ha! I'm married! You know married people don't have sex! You know that!

Tom: Of the 13,000 plus friends you have on MySpace how many of them do you really think care about you, you know, for who you are?

Joe: It's sad, but only 12,346 of them. The others are stalkers. How are your two MySpace friends, Mom and Dad, doing?

Tom: What can you do in the horror genre that you can't do in the mystery genre?

Joe: All hostile kidding aside for a moment, you and I both write similar types of mysteries. They're thriller stories, with some pretty violent scenes, but we break up the tension with funny parts. Yes, lives are at stake, but there's still a lot of humor. That's why I tell all of my fans to check out your stuff.

With horror, I tried to write a book with all scary parts, and no funny stuff to break the tension. It was a challenge to not be a smart ass, but the book wound up being pretty frightening.

Also, unlike your books, I conjugate my verbs correctly.

Tom: For a second there I thought you were going soft on me. An experience Mrs. Konrath could relate to, but never mind that for now.

Did you start doing horror because you thought us mystery guys were woosies? Or because your mystery sales were so bad?

Joe: I do horror because I'm not a one trick pony. Or a one trick puppy, which you might relate to more.

Tom: Of all the mystery writers out there who do you think the biggest woosy is, besides Henry Perez?

Joe: I could list all of the mystery writers I think I could beat up, but the list would be too long for your attention span. I don't think Henry is a woosy so much as a pacifist. He rightfully doesn't believe violence is the answer. Especially because he punches like a girl. That said, I liked his book, Killing Red, which comes out this summer.

Tom: Your books contain no Elvis references, no basset hounds and no Schlitz--what made you think they could be a commercial success?

Joe: That's the plot of my new book, about a beer drinking basset hound named Elvis. It's called "The King Has the Schlitz." His owner is a male hairdresser who is also a boxer, but he's too old to box anymore so he just writes about it. He has a book series, but it's pretty much the same book, over and over and over, with slightly different covers.

Anyway, thanks for having me as a guest today, Tim. Keep those Doffy novels coming!

Tom: Thanks Joe...jerk.

Alexander McCall Smith and the Case of the Helpful Reader

by G.M. Malliet

Alexander McCall Smith has written an article for the WSJ that's as engaging as any of his novels. In the article, he talks about how readers can get so caught up in an author's characters they start wanting to dictate "What happens next." I was amazed to learn that one of Smith's characters, Isabel Dalhousie, formed a relationship with a younger character in reaction to a complaint the author received from a journalist. It was this journalist's opinion that it was wrong to deny these characters a romantic attachment, despite the difference in their ages, so this attachment got written into the series.

I was saddened to hear that Mr Smith succumbed, but the pressure on such a popular author must be intense. Everybody "owns" Precious Ramotswe; everybody "owns" Isabel. It is part of Smith's great achievement that he made them seem so real, and endeared them to us. We care what happens to them, in the same way we care what happens to a friend.

I posted a link to the WSJ article on Facebook and someone commented that this was why they couldn't bring themselves to read The Remorseful Day, in which Inspector Morse dies. That is exactly it--Morse (and John Thaw) had become so real to us throughout the series we couldn't bear to say goodbye.

Both Colin Dexter and Alexander McCall Smith have more than earned the right to let their characters do as they choose--or rather, as their authors choose. And surely, that is any author's right. What else are we here for but to either keep our characters in line or let them run wild, only to be reined in later? Someone has to be in charge, and I think it has to be the author. (If anything, I would have preferred that Isabel remain single, but I wouldn't have dreamed of trying to bend the author to my will.)

Have you ever altered the direction of a series because of input from a fan? (And have you lived to regret it?)

Photo from www.telegraph.co.uk

Castle Keep

My dad was an artillery spotter in World War II. I never understood why after having seen the truth of the battlefield, he so enjoyed reading novels, seeing movies, and watching TV shows that took place during the War. I think his favorite TV show of all time was Combat.

Well, maybe I understand now. I guess we can't resist those self-referential stories. I loved Gregg Hurtwitz’s The Crime Writer. Guess why? (Beyond the great writing, clever plot, and terrific hero, I mean.) Because it was about a crime writer, and that’s what I am.

All this is a long-winded way to get around to admitting that there’s a new TV show with no high pretensions which I make sure I see every week. No, it’s not anything hi-falutin like a PBS miniseries or a succès d’estime like Mad Men or even a popular hit like Grey’s Anatomy. It’s Castle. Guess what the protagonist does for a living? Yes, he’s a crime novelist.

You see Richard Castle is a huge, best-selling author who’s run into a patch of literary infertility. So he asks his pal, the mayor of New York, if he can tag along with a police detective to get inspired. Sure, happens everyday, right?

Needless to say, the police detective is tall, leggy, dark-eyed, brunette, and smart. (Bias disclosure: I married a woman who is tall, leggy, dark-eyed, brunette, and smart.) Castle has a know-it-all daughter. (Bias disclosure: I have three of them.) Castle plays poker with the real-life James Patterson and Stephen J. Cannell. (Bias disclosure: I am bursting with envy.)

The identity of the guilty party is pretty clear by twenty minutes in the show. Doesn’t matter. What makes the whole thing worth watching is the répartée between the detective and Castle. Yes, it’s derivative. Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis did pretty much the same thing on Moonlighting a generation ago. But who cares? Moonlighting was a great show. About every ten minutes in Castle, either the detective or writer delivers a line where I think, “Gosh, I wish I’d written that one.” I’m willing to pan through a lot of gravel to get to that nugget.

The show airs Mondays at 10. Last week it finished behind CSI Miami but ahead of Medium. I really enjoy the show and, as night follows day, that means it is not long for your TV set or DVR. Catch it while you can. Take a look tonight and let me know what you think.

What Do You Mean It's Not Deductible?

by Felicia Donovan

Every Spring, my accountant sits patiently across the desk with a solemn expression on his face as I explain my annual list of what I think are justifiable deductions. Every Spring, I'm politely informed that the Federal Tax Guideline has not evolved to the degree that I think it should have and the bulk of my list, which I carefully document on a neat spreadsheet, is stricken. I don't understand this. My requests are reasonable and based on sound accounting principles. To my readers and fellow authors, I let you be the judge...

Reading Time

"What's this 200 hours for?"

"Reading time."

"Reading what?

"Books. I'm in training. You know, like an athlete. The more books I read, the better a writer I can be. It's germane to my profession."

Denied.

Product

I don't just mean hair product, I mean every product - moisturizers, special soaps, etc. You figure out how many public appearances the average author makes a year. It costs to look this good. And while I'm at it, no one has yet to explain to me if I'm supposed to use the wrinkle relaxer before the wrinkle firmer or vice versa. Is it a massage after a good workout or a good stretch before a run? Doesn't matter,it's all necessary.

Denied.

Coffee and Strong Tea

It's not my fault that those paper shufflers in DC do not "get" the creative process, but let me make it clear that we authors do not "create on demand." Some of my most brilliant neural misfirings come at the oddest times and if I'm going to capture them, I need caffeine to stay awake. This is genius and you don't put genius on a schedule, hence I should be allowed to deduct the 20+ cups of coffee and/or tea I consume in any given day as an allowable expense that enhances my profession due to an unpredictable schedule.

Denied.

 

Dolce & Gabanna Handbag

Where else would I keep the Kindle? Since the Kindle can be snuck under "appreciable equipment," so should the bag it's held in. And the bag had better look good. If the bag looks good, I'll be more confident. If I'm more confident, I'll be a better writer.

Denied.

 

You see my quandary? Am I asking to write off my corporate jet? Noooooo... Am I asking the tax man to discard my million dollar bonus? Noooooo.... All I'm asking for is a little break for being a dedicated writer who squeezes in a writing career in between caring for a family, a house, a bunch of dogs, and working a full-time "day" job. Isn't it time we authors got a break? Maybe some of you have your own deductions that I've missed. If so, feel free to pass them on...

Time for Change, Change for Time

Cricket McRae

I don't know about you, but I don't have enough hours in the day to get everything done. Sometimes that's more the case, and sometimes less, but lately the situation has become critical.

So here are a few time-saving techniques I'm exploring in order to eke out more minutes, nay, hours, of productivity.

1. Give up sleep. A friend of mine hasn't slept more than five hours a night since his four-year-old was born. He's a walking zombie, but that's beside the point. It's worth a try in order to garner twenty more hours a week, no?

2. Multi-tasking. For example, I only talk on the phone while I'm driving. Unfortunately, I lost my bluetooth headset (I blame the cat), so my hands-free solution is to put the phone on speaker and toss it on the passenger seat. The road noise has caused only three major misunderstandings so far, but I have noticed fewer people are calling me. Fewer people want to sit in the passenger seat, too. Pretty soon I won't have to talk to anyone.

3. Give up exercise. Easier than you'd think.

4. Give up cooking, which balances out #3, since I don't like to eat out much. And the resulting hunger sharpens my focus -- which I sorely need after getting only five hours of sleep a night.

5. Turn off my wireless LAN. This one's real; if I'm connected, I'm distracted. Email, Facebook, and (ohgod) Second Life. I just downloaded SL to check it out after a fellow author told me she's using it for promotion. I've got to get it off my laptop NOW.

6. Do less laundry. Clean clothes are simply overrated.

7. Use Gmail Autopilot. It answers your email for you! What's the worst that could happen?

8. Get rid of the kids and the animals and slap an apron on hubby. (Okay, I don't have kids. Or a hubby, strictly speaking. But if I did ...)

9. Prioritize my to do list and then delete the bottom fourth. I'll never get to that stuff way down there anyway, so why put pressure on myself? For example, I was going to have a dozen time saving ideas in this blog entry. Now I don't have to, and I don't even feel guilty!

Okay, now you. What are your tried and true ways to make the time for everything -- especially the writing -- in this modern life?

New Kid on the Blog

Hi. My name is Alan Orloff. I'm the new kid on the blog.

Throughout my life, I've written all types of things, including newsletter articles, technical reports, business plans, press releases, users manuals, Website content, direct mail packages, performance reviews, PowerPoint presentations, advocacy articles, editorial pieces, business correspondence, reference letters, grocery lists, technology abstracts--even Twitter tweets. But never a single blog post.

Not ever. Until now. This is my first, so please, be gentle.

Today's topic: How the post-WWII suburbanization of the country changed the way southern literature was viewed by the northeastern cognoscenti.

But first, I need to vent a little.

When I joined this group, I was thrilled to be associated with such a great bunch of writers. They seemed nice (in the blogosphere, at least) and they welcomed me with a host of friendly greetings. Everything was peachy. But…

I guess I'm just a little surprised at all the stuff a new blogger has to do. I mean, I understand I'll be toting around everyone's laptops and book bags at conferences. And I get that I'll be buying drinks for a while, at least until my new guy smell wears off. I'm cool with all that. Because it means I'm part of the gang, for better or worse.

It's just that some of the stuff I'm supposed to do seems a bit…extreme. (GM, I might be a little late coming over tomorrow to wash your windows. It all depends on how long it takes me to reseal JB's driveway. She says she wants it done right this time. And Tom, I've never been a sparring partner before. It won't hurt, will it? I'm allergic to pain.)

Don't get me wrong, it's nice to have so many people pay attention to you. But I'm getting some weird vibes that maybe things aren't what they seem on the outside. For instance, one of my new blogging buddies compared me to a guy named Marx (and not in a good way, I don't think. Of course, I couldn't really tell what he was talking about--he used a lot of big words). Another wanted to flat out get rid of me--before I'd even written a single post! And I'm not sure what to make of the fact that the email messages welcoming me to the group all had the words "FRESH BLOOD" in the subject line.

Here's the last straw. Keith wants me to come over and cut his grass. But how high could it be? It's only APRIL FIRST. What kind of FOOL do they think I am?

I need your help, InkSpot readers. What advice do you have for me, the new guy, about how I can fit in with an established bunch of bloggers? (Please, in addition to your comments, let me know when I can come by to powerwash your deck. I do good work, just ask the gang.)

Alan

[CONFIDENTIAL to my mother: Chillax, Mom. I'm just kidding here. It's April Fools. Remember how you used to put whipped cream in my Chucks? That's what this post is like, except this is how adults do April Fools Day. Don't worry, I know how to play nice with my new friends, and they all seem very likeable. (Except for that one mean lady who wants to throw me overboard. I think I'll keep away from her.) One thing is certain--next year, I'll make sure the NEW new guy has the, um, pleasure to post on April First.]