First, what doesn’t work. If a writer TELLS me that his detective is frustrated, TELLS me that he smells barbeque, TELLS me his character is annoyed because his car is stuck behind a slow-moving truck, I feel as though I’m watching something from far away:

Richard was upset that Maria had lied to him, and he felt she was hiding something. He felt chilly standing there in his Hawaiian shirt and wanted to end the interview, so he snapped at her. “I’m out of here,” he snarled.

It’s the author’s voice, uninflected with the character’s biases and personality, that I hear, and it’s stale. I’m being spoonfed the scene in a way that doesn’t engage me in imagining anything. It feels like a summary report.

In contrast, I’m racing through Val McDermid’s classic A Place of Execution at the moment. I saw the British TV show, so I know who did it, why and how, and what will happen in the investigator’s career because of it. But it’s got me in its grip. McDermid’s dialogue and descriptive prose SHOWS what young Detective Inspector Bennett is doing and thinking. When she goes inside his head, it feels like an internal dialogue, something from his brain. It’s lively, clearly expresses his opinion, not the author’s, and moves the story forward at a fast pace. She breaks out of the protagonist’s point of view occasionally, and gives us a scene that pulls us back to the center of the story, but stays close to Bennett most of the time.

I’m still not sure enough of what makes it work to offer writing advice. But this business of voice is so vital to good storytelling in crime fiction that I can’t let it go unexplored. Other authors whose distinctive use of voice I enjoyed and recommend, if you haven’t already discovered them:

Barbara Seranella’s series about Munch Mancini

Dylan Schaffer’s two funny mysteries – wish he’d give us another

Rebecca Cantrell’s novels about Hannah Vogel in pre-World War II Germany

John Mortimer’s Rumpole of the Bailey series – an old one, but what a voice!

Please feel free to weigh in with a few of your favs – I’m always on the prowl! I’ll be away from the web site for a few weeks but will catch up when I return.

MURDER IN THE ABSTRACT author Susan Shea’s next two Dani O’Rourke mysteries set among the super rich and the museum world, THE KING’S JAR and MIXED UP WITH MURDER, to Alex Lubertozzi at Top Five Books, for publication in spring 2013, by Kimberley Cameron at Kimberley Cameron & Associates (NA).

(Announced in Publishers Marketplace this morning.)

I’m pleased to be with a small, entrepreneurial publisher that’s committed to making a name for itself in the crime fiction area. As the publishing industry changes in massively important ways, mid-list authors have been wondering where we fit. I’m hoping, for their sakes and mine, that Top Five is one of the success stories!

Look for trade paperback and ebook editions in 2013. More later….

But if I think I was working hard, just look at what my granddaughter had to do and how exhausted she is from building an animal mountain. Makes me look like a slacker!

Every day, you get up and head to the computer (or, surprisingly, pencil and paper, which some successful writers prefer even today). You sit there, working to engage your mental gears in service of something harder than an internal monologue with your stubborn 10-year old, or the refrigerator repairman, or the political ranter you heard last night.

Staring at the screen, you will yourself into the head of your protagonist or your self-justifying villain, or even your victim, vulnerable and perhaps terrified. Where are they? What were they doing the last time you thought about them? Have they surprised you, or disappointed you, or left the building? It’s only nine in the morning.

The phone rings, the e-mailbox fills up, you keep checking your watch to make sure you’re not late for the dentist. The dentist is preferable to the vast holes in your plot, dull dialogue from supposedly sparkling characters, a crime you can’t quite will your killer to commit because it’s so terrible. It’s only nine-thirty.

You will yourself to write a thousand words, reminding yourself that even if they’re bad, writing is exercise and it will get better. You write 200 and start obsessing about the clothes at the cleaners begging to be picked up. You peek at the online newspaper, which is mostly celebrity news about people who all look alike and whose names you don’t recognize. It’s only ten o’clock.

Not every day is like that. Some are intense. At quitting time you’re breathless and beaming. You’ve breezed through several thousand words, most of which aren’t half bad even if they will have to be reshaped and pruned and some deleted. But still, you say, as you put on your jogging shoes or pour a finger of single malt scotch, still…

If there were anything else writers could do, they might be tempted on the bad days. But the good days are like a mainlined drug to a junkie, and the anticipation of a new, adrenalin-filled sessions is enough to get you up and trying for that high again and again.

Why non-writers think this is glamorous, I’ll never know. It’s hard work, mostly ignored or criticized or undervalued. Even when it pays off in compliments, contracts, and royalties, you’re only as good as your last success. The blank screen will be waiting the next morning.

So why do we do it? This will perhaps sounds crazy if you weren’t scribbling in second grade, seizing every opportunity to write stories, plays, newspaper articles, whatever, for the past umpteen years. I think we do it because life without it doesn’t make sense to us. David Corbett and friends over on Murderati (http://www.murderati.com/) have been talking about writing as a replacement (or not) for talk therapy. He quotes New York Times writer Steve Almond talking about people who take up writing fairly late in life, but I think it applies to all of us: “They are hoping to find, by means of literary art, braver and more forgiving versions of themselves.” I sometimes think we’re trying somewhat obsessively to explain the world in all its beauty and cruelty and mystery to ourselves. But whatever the reason, it’s one hard job.

**

Ah, where is she when I need her? Like right now? I count on this mythical being to jumpstart my creativity when caffeine hasn’t quite engaged my brain. She’s needed when the idea for a new scene that seemed so exciting at 1 a.m. is looking flat 12 hours later. And who else will save me when a tangled plot thread starts unraveling before my eyes and I freeze, seeing an entire story coming undone at the seams?

I may not have the delectable Sharon Stone – indeed, I could not afford her version of The Muse. I am lucky, though, to have a small handful of dear friends and fellow writers who perform some of the same functions, but without the requirement of little, blue Tiffany boxes in payment. On a slogging day, I can email one, who’ll give me a little pep talk. When I’m searching for a character’s uniqueness, I may see it in a friend and morph that onto the page. The example of successful authors like those at the just-concluded 2010 Bouchercon convention inspire me by making it clear in their talks that hard work is part of the deal, so suck it up! And the ultimate muse is, of course, a deadline and the dulcet voice of my agent gently reminding me she is waiting, anticipating the final revised manuscript.

In the scores of formal sessions, authors answered questions about their protagonists, plot problems, where to set crime stories, how to fit humor (and sex) into tales of murder, what other authors they read, and just about anything else you can think of. At the bar and in the hospitality suite, people talked about the contracts they were (and weren’t) getting, what publishers want (guaranteed best sellers, please), and how their e-book ventures are doing.

In fact, the real take away for me this year has to do with the continually changing fate of the so-called midlist author, the talented, dependable author who hasn’t (yet) broken out of the pack but who’s good enough to see print and get encouraging reviews. The bigger imprints used to give midlist authors time to build followings, but in this tight economic climate, they’re impatient for profits. For awhile, it looked as though the midlist writers would disappear into self-publishing or e-book-only careers. But there may be something good beginning to happen. Small, indie presses seem to be stepping up, buying some books and bringing them to market. If I sound tentative, it’s because I don’t have data to back up my impression, only anecdotes exchanged over wine in a hotel bar in Sacramento so far. But if it’s correct, it would please a lot of authors, agents, and readers.

Authors I saw, met, talked with at Left Coast Crime? Too many to mention them all, but here are a few to illustrate the depth and breadth of this annual con: Cindy Sample (who co-chaired the whole thing), Rhys Bowen, Ann Parker (who won an award for historical mysteries), Rebecca Cantrell, Kelli Stanley (who also won an award), John Lescroat (who was honored) and Jackie Winspear (also honored), Doug Lyle, and Jess Lourey. The next time you’re looking for a good book to read, you won’t go wrong with something by any one of them, by the way!