Award-winning, bestselling, thought-provoking mysteries
I’ve been talking about the next book for a while now, using its working title, Career Day. And the name was fine as a place holder, but not exactly enticing, or even terribly descriptive other than giving an idea of what was going on at the school where the story is set.
But it now has a name. Ready?
What do you think? Does it say, troubles at Middle School? Does it make you wonder why the school is locked down? Does it make you want to read the book?
If so, it’s done its job.
I just had an hour-long conversation with my editor that reminded me why I write—and more, why I partner with a publishing house rather than go Indie.
My 2017 novel, Career Day, is like nothing I’ve ever written. It’s a tapestry of a book, interweaving a lot (yes, a lot) of voices, story lines, parts of the world, even chronologies. Getting the pacing right is going to be incredibly tricky, especially considering that any writer who has lived with something for months and months has gone blind to what the book actually is, as opposed to what the book has been in past drafts, and particularly what she thinks the book ought to be.
An editor is a person who makes her living seeing to the heart of a novel. Because she makes her living that way, obviously she’s keeping an eye on the commercial potential of any project. But if a writer is lucky, the editor—who got into the job in the first place through a love of books—hasn’t lost that love, that excitement, that yearning to be a part of something that matters.
I am one of those lucky writers. Very lucky. My editor at Random House has done this for thirty years, and though yes, jaded is the fall-back position for any job, particularly one as inherently thankless as nurturing a book into the hands of readers, she retains her passion for stories.
My editor is my primary reader, the first eye to be laid upon an often-unformed story. She spots problems I have only been dimly aware of, she articulates strengths and themes, she suggests ways around walls I’ve been bashing my head against.
She helps me understand what I’m trying to do.
More than that, she makes me believe, even briefly, that I can do it.
Neck deep as I am in a first draft, nonetheless I’m due to extricate myself this week from the blizzard of paper scraps that is my study to appear in public, face scrubbed and carrying on normal conversation (as opposed to muttering vague bits of dialogue under my breath.)
Thursday night I’ll be in San Francisco, at the Ferry Building Book Passage, to talk about The Murder of Mary Russell. One of my favorite bookshops, with a Peet’s next door and every flavor of ethnic takeaway you could desire a short stroll away.
And on Saturday I’ll be manning (yes, I regard the verb man as gender-inclusive) the Mystery Writers of America NorCal booth at the second annual Book Festival in Berkeley.
I’m only scheduled to be there in the afternoon, but in fact I’ll probably be there most of the day, so come down and see us, at #4 Writer’s Row, and join a whole city of people who adore books!
In the meantime: back to my mutterings…
For a chance to hear about the new stories, before anyone (well, anyone but my editor…) read on…
I started my college life at a California junior college called West Valley, located near my home in Saratoga. I had no money, no job, and no idea of what I wanted to do–which made community college a sensible choice.
Community colleges, of which California has 113, are the most democratic of educational opportunities. They’re for people who don’t want, don’t need, or aren’t ready for a full four-year institution (especially now, when student debt can cripple families.) Nursing degrees, police academies, technical programs, and other such specific training programs mix alongside high school graduates doing their first two years of college on the cheap—and, even more exciting, adults returning to the classroom for a class or three, in subjects that simply interest them.
So, when I was asked to speak at one of my local community colleges, I gave a resounding YES!
Monterey Peninsula College got its start in the forties, and long served soldiers and their families from nearby Fort Ord (which itself is now a State University, CSUMB.) One of the long-running MPC programs is a Guest Author Series, held once or twice a year, with writers as varied as Joyce Carol Oates and Craig Johnson (see the full list here.)
And now me. I’ll be there this Thursday, working with MPC writing students in the afternoon, then giving a talk in the evening. I’ll be speaking some about The Murder of Mary Russell, naturally, but I’ll also be musing about the writing process itself—and, as I said at the beginning of this blog post, I’ll be reading some snippets from not one, but two works in progress: a short story called “Stately Holmes” (more about that soon!) and my 2017 novel, Career Day.
If you’re anywhere near the Monterey Peninsula on May 19 at 7:00, do not miss this. Ticket details are here, or for more information write Henry Marchand, here.