Why I Go to Conferences
November 24, 2009
What big name author is enough to get you to a conference?
By Rebecca Cantrell
I thought I was going to be the first curmudgeon of the week, but CJ beat me to it. She’s right though. I don’t go to conferences hoping to meet big name authors. Not that I’m not thrilled when I do. It was wonderful finding out that Lee Child is as charming as everyone says, the James Rollins is very funny, and when I met R.L. Stine it took all my self control not to go all fan-girl on him.
But the people I spend most of my time with are other writers whom I know and don’t get a chance to see enough of, such as our very own Kelli Stanley and Sophie Littlefield, both of whom are pee-in-the-pants funny. Or wise and funny CJ Lyons. Or the ever charming Tim Maleeny and Shane Gericke. I’ve never met Gabi, but I want to, even if I won’t eat anything she gives me after reading her questions to Lisa Black, whom I also met in Indianapolis.
And then there are the wonderful wild cards. This year I finally got to meet Jen Forbus. I didn’t spend as much time with her as I would have liked because I got cornered by a guy who wanted to talk about Prague in 1589, which was likewise fascinating.
I also met a former world champion fencer and writer, Mitchell Graham, who actually met Helene Mayer (she won the silver medal for Germany in the 1936 Berlin Olympics and was the only Jewish athlete competing on the German team). She shows up in my next novel, A GAME OF LIES, as do references to fencing that are now much more accurate.
I once sat next to a very shy woman at a technical translation conference who turned out to have written her PhD thesis on Weimar Germany and had translated novels and autobiographies from some its major players. This was a few months after I decided to set my book in 1931 (the end of Weimar-era Germany).
You could never get away with this in a movie, as the coincidences are just too great. But for me, conferences are always like that. I just happen to stand next to someone who has the most amazing story to tell. It’s not always a big name, although it sometimes is (I don’t think I can ever look in Joseph Finder’s freezer without cracking a smile). Sometimes it’s another early career writer like me, or a writer who isn’t yet published, or a reader, a historian.
It’s not the big names that get me to a conference, it’s everyone.
The Biography I Want to Read
November 17, 2009
If you were to write a nonfiction book, what would your topic be?
As a technical writer I wrote literally thousands of nonfiction pages. I mean, I thought they were nonfiction while I was writing them, or that they would one day be nonfiction. Because I wrote about products long before the products were completely finished, this wasn’t always true, but I tried very, very hard.
But they weren’t about topics I would have picked on my own. Who exactly would spend their spare time writing the Hyperion Essbase Database Administrator’s Guide? The Sun Java Studio Creator online help? The Sybase APT/GUI Installation Guide for all seven Unix platforms? No, for those I was paid real cash money and my employer got to pick the topics (Data load? Dimension build? Attributes that look like dimensions? You betcha).
If I had an infinite amount of time (that is, enough to be a happy wife and mother and write and promote all the fiction books I want to, plus extra time left over) I would write a biography of Ernst Röhm. 
I almost didn’t want to say it because it sounds so nerdy, but I figured if you slogged through the Essbase references, you are toughened up.
Ernst Röhm was Hitler’s best friend. His right hand man. Hitler once said “When they write the history of the Nazi party, he will be second in importance only to me.” Röhm built up the storm troopers. He was in charge of the secret cache of German weapons after the first World War, and he gave some to the Nazis for the failed Beer Hall Putsch. He was the only who actually accomplished his objective, take the barracks and wait for Hitler. Decorated war hero that he was, the judge let him off easy.
Röhm shows up in my first book, A TRACE OF SMOKE, because he came back to Germany to save Hitler’s butt after the storm troopers rebelled. He’s an interesting guy, for a variety of reasons, one of which is that he was gay and out. And everybody knew it.
But there is no published biography of him that I could unearth. To find out about him, I had to read the bits where he’s mentioned in huge history books (like RISE AND FALL OF THE THIRD REICH), plus a few passages in Sefton Delmer’s autobiography, THE COUNTERFEIT SPY, but mostly I read Röhm’s autobiography, published in 1928, then mostly destroyed later by the Nazis, but snagged from some school in Dresden and dragged back to UC Berkeley where it was bound in a bright orange cover. And it’s all written using the old fashioned Fraktur font.
He’s not a good guy or anything, but all the other Nazi figures have been profiled, from the important ones all the way down to the secretary who typed Hitler’s personal letters. But not Röhm. Why not? I think because he’s so gay that Nazi scholars are afraid to claim him, and he’s so Nazi that gay scholars don’t want him either. But somebody should. He was a fascinating guy, albeit a dangerous and scary brute.
How did he die? Hitler ordered his best friend shot in 1934 (yes, that’s in the second book, A NIGHT OF LONG KNIVES). It seems to have been one murder he actually felt guilty about too.
So, would some poor history PhD student somewhere write that book, so I don’t have to?
Dream Team, Perry Mason or Paul Drake?
November 2, 2009
What fictional attorney would you hire to represent you if you ever get caught?
I’d go straight for Perry Mason. He’s never lost a case, and I like that track record. He’s definitely gotten defendants out of tighter pinches than the one I’d be in.
It’ll be stressful as I sit in jail waiting. My nerves will be shot when the trial has its share of missteps as Perry tries and fails to break the wrong witnesses. But when Paul strides in and whispers in Perry’s ear, I’ll know he’s found that bit of evidence that exonerates me. And I know he worked hard to do it too, bless his heart.
The witness on the stand will crack like dry spaghetti. That self righteous smirk will peel off Hamilton Burger’s face. In your face, I’ll say once the gavel comes down to acquit me. Sure, it’ll be spiteful, but after what he put me through, can you blame me?
And then I can spend a little quality time with Paul Drake. There was something intriguing about that big blond guy. He was a thorough investigator, looked sharp in a suit, but could beat up the meanest thugs. Unlike Perry, Paul knew the score. Plus he liked chocolate ice cream, and pretty much ate anything you put in front of him, a trait that I appreciate more now that I have a picky eater in the house.
What did Della see in Perry anyway? Paul was cuter, taller, and a lot more fun. Although both clearly had massive commitment issues, Paul did eventually get married and have little Paul Jr. at some point. Perry just got portly.
So, if I were to get caught, I’d want Perry on my side. But I won’t need him, because I’ll never get caught. Because I’m innocent. Innocent. Innocent.
I didn’t get to answer last week’s question about ways to dispatch murder victims, but my good friend, and fellow mystery writer, Hal Glatzer sent me a link to a video on just this topic.
Mothering Fiction: How Being a Mother Made Me a Better Writer
October 24, 2009
Here’s my blog post on it on the New York Times parenting blog:
Somebody had to say it: parenting is a lot of fun!
Spinning off Characters
October 6, 2009
Which character would I spin off from my series?
by Rebecca Cantrell
Finally a question that gives historical writers an unfair advantage! I can jump forward in time, so I can spin off even the children. And that’s just whom I would pick.
In A TRACE OF SMOKE, Hannah comes across an orphan 5 year old boy named Anton. Anton’s been raised by a prostitute. The identity of his father is in dispute. And he talks like he’s an Apache brave. I’ve received more fan mail about him than any other character in the book.
I actually did submit a proposal to write a book with a 22 year old Anton as the main character set in Berlin in 1948. The book was to be called IN MY FATHER’S SHADOW.
In 1948 Berlin is in a state of transition. World War II has ended and American, British, French, and Russian troops occupy the city now stranded deep in the Russian zone. Refugees stream in from the Eastern Zone of Germany, Eastern Europe, and concentration camps. Those returning home often find their houses destroyed or usurped by those who stayed behind. On June 24, 1948 the Russians blockade all train and automobile traffic into the city, hoping to force the other allied troops out of Berlin so that they can occupy it.
The Cold War has begun.
A few weeks before, Nazi doctors were hung in Nuremberg. Attacks on American troops and military bases still occur, although with far less frequency than in the first two years after the war. Fluent in the German language, Anton is still unprepared for the cultural changes wrought by the Nazis, the war, and the Occupation. He works in the Berlin Airlift, where American forces will fly in all the supplies for a city of two million people for almost a year.
Anton’s mother spent her life trying to rescue Jews from Hitler, but the man Anton thinks might be his father helped put Hitler in power and set up the first concentration camps. Nothing is as he expected as he struggles to understand what it means to be German at heart but American in loyalty.
When I sold A TRACE OF SMOKE, they requested a two book deal and both had to have Hannah Vogel as the main character, so I went back to the drawing board and came up with A NIGHT OF LONG KNIVES (June 2010), set during the purge of the same name (because who doesn’t want to write a book that starts with a zeppelin jacking?). I still think someday I might write the book of Anton’s coming of age, but now that I’ve sold books 3 & 4 with Hannah (A GAME OF LIES (June 2011), set during the Berlin Olympics, and A NIGHT OF BROKEN GLASS (June 2012), set during Kristallnacht), I don’t know when I’ll find time.
If you ever read it, you’ll know why I had to make that disclaimer.
I did use a similar character, a young American soldier coming back into Berlin during the airlift, in my short story COFFEE in the anthology MISSING from Echelon Press. But let me say right here that he is NOT Anton and his mother is NOT Hannah. If you read it, you’ll know why I need the disclaimer.
I’d also like to tell Dracula from Mina’s point of view, not quite a spinoff, but a new tale nevertheless…more details on that very, very soon…
Why All Series Should Be Trilogies
September 28, 2009
A series should always be a trilogy. Who has ever heard of a du-ology? And bi-ology is something quite different. What about a quadrology? Pentology? Nope. Clearly if there is no word for it, it just can’t be.
And trilogy is a versatile term. “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” is a four book trilogy. So is “Lord of the Rings,” if you count “The Hobbit.” Those are some successful quadrologies. The “Harry Potter” books are a septology, which doesn’t quite sound as naughty as a sextology, but after all those books are for kids.
Titles matter too. If you start with “A is for Alibi” you know you only have 24 more titles until you reach “Z is for Zero.” (What’s the word for a 26 part series? Kelli, you’re the Latin buff. Lend us a hand.) But if you start with “One for the Money,” you can keep writing until “Google Me Grandma Mazur.”
In all seriousness, a series should run exactly as long as the writer can tell rewarding stories in that world. Or until the publishers and readers stop buying them. As a writer, I hope for the first. Especially as I’m on the third book in my trilogy.
I’ll close by paraphrasing a junior high English teacher who, when I asked how long an essay should be, said “As long as a piece of rope.”
Drove me crazy then too.
Literary Influences
September 22, 2009
Which author, book and/or movie has influenced you the most?
by Rebecca Cantrell
I know you probably expect me to list some great literary fiction that I love, like Doris Lessing and Elie Wiesel. Or maybe thriller writers I’ve gotten into lately, like James Rollins and Brent Ghelfi. Or maybe mystery writers that make me think, like Anne Perry or Arianna Franklin. And all of those would be perfectly true.
But I’m going to talk instead about books I read aloud, because they’ve influenced me a great deal. I read aloud to my son. A lot. We stop at the bookstore almost every day after school to do homework, drink a milk, and read.
Now the books we read lean more toward The Edge Chronicles and Spacecraft and Vehicles of the Entire Star Wars Saga, but back in the day we read a lot of Doctor Seuss and Margaret Wise Brown (Good Night Moon, The Runaway Bunny). In a book you are going to read, say 50 times, you notice every single word. That’s where I understood the genius of these writers.Doctor Seuss and Margaret Wise Brown OWN you as a reader. You can’t not put the stress where they want you too. “I ran and found a Brickel bush. I hid myself away. I got brickels in my britches, but I stayed there anyway.”or “Good-night room, good night moon.”
If you compare this to say “Max and the Magic Pony.” you understand, painfully, the difference between great and barely good enough. “Max and the Magic Pony” is a perfectly fine story, but the prose is unreadable. My son loved it and wanted to read it every night. And it was horrible. Every single time. I read that book 21 times before it “accidentally” fell behind the bookcase and did not resurface for 2 years.
But I could read “Spooky Empty Pants” or “Good-Night Moon” every single day (and did some weeks). Why? Because the authors understood sentence rhythm. They knew that each word matters, and they always picked the right ones.
Sure, I heard about that in college when I was taking creative writing. But reading good children’s books was an enforced lesson in poetry. It wasn’t until I had to read every single word in a story over and over and over that I got it deep in my bones: Every word matters. It’s not just the meaning. It’s the sound. It’s the stress. I learned to channel Dr. Seuss, and it helps my writing.
Sure it’s research, but the food is good
September 8, 2009
If I could invite three characters to dinner, who would they be and what would be on the menu?
I’ve been feeling cut off from my German inspiration here on the island, so I would have a German night.
The menu would be provided by Laslzo from “Gloomy Sunday: Ein Lied von Liebe und Tod.” It would be his famous rouladen with gravy, potato dumplings, red cabbage and Brussel sprouts.To my right would be any role that Sebastian Koch has ever played (if CJ gets George Clooney…). He could be that sympathetic SS command from “Black Book” or that upright playwright from “The Lives of Others” or “Stauffenberg” or “Speer” depending on how he was feeling. Any of them would be a treasure trove of information for my book, although Ludwig Muentze would be my first choice. Muenzte could tell me about the command structure of the Nazi army, and how he managed to secure such a plum post in Holland.
Next to him would be his partner, Carice van Houten (hey, I’m happily married) so I could beg her to be Hannah Vogel in the movie made from my book. Based on her work in “Black Book” and “Valkyrie,” she’d be perfect. And I’d really love a few minutes with Rachel/Ellis to ask her about life as a spy in Holland in World War II and where she played as a singer. What would she have for me for tips and tricks to navigate through an occupied country collecting information while staying one step ahead of the occupiers?
Finally, I’d like to have that creepy Colonel Landa from “Ridiculous Basterds.” I wouldn’t be alone with him, mind you, and I would have to have Ryan Lock from “Lockdown” working security to keep an eye on him, but I think he would definitely hold up his end of the conversation. After dinner, I’d send him quickly back to the land of fiction, but the others could stay for tea and apple strudel. Then we could invite over Salley Bowles and Clifford from “Cabaret” and find a good place to go dancing.
Sam Spade in a Cage Match with Precious Ramotswe
September 1, 2009
by Rebecca Cantrell
On the left, wearing a rumpled trench coat and reeking of Scotch, is Sam Spade. He’s a tough looking customer, with the face to prove it. But he’s out of his element without his trusty gun. Still, it’s not going to be easy to take him down. In his corner, he has Effie, his disillusioned secretary. She looks as likely to stuff the threadbare towel down his throat as throw it in. One red lacquered fingernail taps against the liquor bottle.
On the right is a large figure covered by a robe with a hood. It moves with such calm authority that Sam gets even more edgy. He’s not a big guy. His opponent has height, weight, and probably reach on him. And no one’s allowed out of the cage.
The figure shrugs off the robe, folds it neatly, and passes it through the cage bars. Her brightly patterned dress matches her blue and white head scarf. She waves and Sam flinches.
It’s Precious Ramotswe.
In her corner sits JLB Maketoni. He doesn’t look the least bit nervous. With him are two children, Motholeli and Puso. Motholeli holds a steaming cup of red bush tea.
The opponents walk toward each other in the ring. Sam’s head is down, his fists are up. Precious’s arms are loose by her side.
The lights flicker. Go out. The crowds gasps. The audience babbles so loudly no one can hear what’s going on in the ring.
The lights blaze back to life a few minutes later. Sam is sobbing on his knees in front of Effie. He apologizes for his past behavior and proposes to her on the spot.
Mma Rawotse sips her red bush tea with a mysterious smile. Peeking from between her fingers is a slip of paper. On it? The location of the real Maltese falcon, of course.
Worse Than Sex Scenes
August 25, 2009
This is the post I’ve been dreading writing. I’d sooner admit to my criminal past (OK, I actually finessed that one), than write about my favorite book.
It’s not that I don’t read. I do. I read constantly. I’m currently reading:
• HARRY POTTER AND THE PRISON OF AZKABAN (aloud. All the Harry Potters are much funnier that way. I’m sure they’d be even better if I could do accents).
• FIVE QUARTS (a great collection of essays on blood. Wonderful historical background and a sweet love story too.)
• THE NAZI OLYMPICS (a museum exhibition catalog I picked up at the Holocaust Museum in D.C. Lots of pictures. Grim ending, I know, even though I’m not there yet)
• THE XIth OLYMPIC GAMES BERLIN, 1936 OFFICIAL REPORT VOLUME I (646 page summary of the games written by the German government for the Olympic committee shortly after the games ended. I’m kind of skimming this as it’s pretty dense stuff, including a list of all the extra subway trains added, number of policemen added to various beats, etc.)
• THE DOOMSDAY KEY by James Rollins (a rollicking fun read and I always want to get some popcorn while I’m reading it)
• THE PAPERCLIP CONSIPIRARY by Tom Bower (a nonfiction book that details the rush after World War II to capture German scientists, whitewash their pasts, and bring them to the United States, Britain, and Russia to work).
• TRAIL SINISTER by Sefton Delmer (a lively and charming autobiography about a British journalist’s adventures in Berlin in the 1920s and 1930s).
Do you see a pattern? Well, except for the research stuff, me neither. And that’s my problem. I read constantly, shamelessly, and indiscriminately. And I always have. There, I admitted that on the Internet. Why do I still feel much more embarrassed than relieved?
I don’t have one favorite book. I have a thousand. And I can’t write intelligently about any of them. I get all bollixed up. I have tons of friends, heck everyone else on this freakin’ blog, I bet, who write beautifully about books. I can’t. For me, that’s as hard as writing sex scenes (and don’t get me started there).
Anyone want to analyze that? What can’t you write about that you feel you should be able to write about?