So it came as little surprise to me that when I grew out of my baby fat, track would become my athletic endeavor of choice. Endless patience, the genetic gift of my father’s short, muscular legs, and a desire to be alone made me the perfect candidate for the one event nobody else wanted: distance.

Because who remembers the distance runners? Sure, we know the sprinters: the flash and dazzle of FloJo, the spirit of Jesse Owens, and the ego of that Jamaican dude, Usain Bolt, who did his little lightning-strike victory move after each heat during the last Olympic Games. But who remembers Bill Rodgers? Katherine Switzer? Joan Benoit Samuelson? Ringing fewer bells? Yeah, I thought so. See, here’s the thing about the distance runners: they last. They don’t succumb as frequently to career-ending injuries. They know about pacing and training. They know how to entertain and inspire themselves lap after mind-numbing lap, mile after tedious mile, on days when pounding sun softens roads, releasing the nauseating stench of tar, on days so cold their nostrils freeze and the snow squeaks beneath their feet, on rainy days when soggy socks give them blisters.

Want to talk about transferable skills? I became a writer, another move that surprised no one who knew me. I tried on various short formats, but as usual, these did not appeal. I wanted again to go the distance with a novel. Then more novels. As with the 10K race, my favorite distance, I’d finish one book, rest; write another, rest; the whole of my writing life becoming the sum of each “race.”

I hadn’t realized how closely the internals of the writing life resemble long-distance running. You have to get the pacing right so you don’t burn out (or succumb to an embarrassing and frustrating bout of quad-lock I suffered from pushing too hard in a Central Park 10K). You need the patience to edit, round after round, even as the commas are swirling around your head, doing dirty things to each other. You need the fortitude to survive criticism, promotion, marketing, apathy, poverty, disgruntled spouses, computer errors, and the vagaries of Amazon pricing.

One factor, however, didn’t translate so smoothly. The solitude. Yeah, like many of us, and a number of diagnosed sociopaths, I sit alone in a room and stare at a screen for many hours a week. As I mentioned before, the sitting alone and staring part comes naturally for me. But to complete a novel, sell it to the marketplace, and sustain a writing career takes teamwork I hadn’t anticipated. I needed a critique group. Beta readers. An editor or two. Not to mention a cover artist, a partner who gets why I spend so much time with imaginary people and hasn’t yet run away screaming, friends to help spread the word, and the camaraderie of other writers who understand this craziness.

I’d been wrong to think I had to be the lonely long distance writer. To quote Bette Midler, “You got to have friends.” The occasional gulp of Gatorade doesn’t hurt, either.

(A version of this article first appeared on Nicole Storey’s Chaotic Thoughts)

The Joke’s on Me is the story of Frankie Goldberg, a former actress and standup comic whose life in Hollywood falls apart with an exclamation mark when a mudslide destroys her home. Hoping for comfort, she returns to her mother’s B&B in Woodstock, New York, where she spent her teen years making coffee, folding towels, and chasing after the handyman’s hot, high-school-jock son. Now she has to deal with the mess she left behind, her bossy older sister, her mother’s illness, and the family responsibilities she’s been shirking. And the handyman’s son, now a minor-league baseball coach, is back in town…

Slide on over to Goodreads and sign up to win for free! Giveaway ends Saturday, February 11.

Yes, trout.

The story is dark and violent, but even the most sociopathic of Mader’s characters have the capacity for tenderness and loyalty, making us question the nature of evil: are those who do terrible things inherently evil, or have they been misshapen by life’s hard breaks?

Cutting between “good” characters sliding downhill and “bad” characters seeking redemption, Mader crafts the rhythm and contrast that make this fairly short book fly by while leaving a deeper, haunting impression behind. I would absolutely recommend this book, and I can’t wait to read more of Mader’s work.

1. Reading keeps you abreast of the current market. Some writers disagree about this, but reading current books in my genres gives me a broad idea of what’s out there and helps me position my novels in the marketplace.
2. Reading teaches you good writing techniques. Just like playing tennis with a better player helps you improve your game, reading great books urges you to raise the bar on your own writing. My favorite example is Zombie, a novella by Joyce Carol Oates. Somehow she made empathize with a serial killer. I went from being awed by that on the first reading to drilling down to exactly how she did it, and the specific techniques she assigned to the protagonist in character development. Remember, it’s okay to borrow a technique (as long as you use it in your own voice) but NOT to plagiarize!
3. Reading increases your vocabulary. I love books that send me to the dictionary. I once told this to novelist/short story writer T.C. Boyle, when I met him at one of his events. He smiled at me, and then signed my copy of his book in Latin.
4. Reading helps you explore other genres than your own. Some days I get a bee in my bonnet to try historical fiction. Reading them gives me an idea of how it’s done and the challenges I will face.
5. Reading makes the world smaller. Books take us through the looking glass, to faraway lands, and across the universe. In doing so, we learn about other countries, religions, and cultures. We understand each other better. And how can that be anything but good for you as a writer and as a citizen of the world?
6. Reading keeps your imagination sharp. For over ten years, I judged a literary contest for a local school district. I noticed an interesting trend. For a while, the level of imagination exhibited in the children’s stories declined. Then Harry Potter came along, and as if someone waved a magic wand, the stories flourished with creativity. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
7. Reading makes you more attractive. And why not? Reading makes you smarter, and according to some studies, intelligence is an attractive quality when choosing a mate.
8. Reading supports fellow authors. In this tough business of publishing, don’t we want to support each other?

Why do you read? If you had three minutes with a person who doesn’t care for reading, what would you say to try to change his or her mind?

Because the site that conducts the poll for P&E is run mainly by volunteers, and we do want the voting to be fair and properly tallied, the process may look a bit convoluted and the site can run slowly at times. Here are the basic steps to vote for my book:

1. Go to this link: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/novelr.shtml

2. Scroll down to “The Joke’s on Me.” (The books are listed alphabetically.)

3. Click on the circle in front of the title.

4. Fill in your name, e-mail address (I assure you, these are NOT stored or sold), the CAPTCHA code (they want to know you’re a human, not a spambot), any comments you’d care to make about the book, then click “SUBMIT VOTE.”

5. A screen should pop up telling you how to FINALIZE your vote. You should receive an email to the address you’ve given, from “predpoll_noreply@critique.org”.

6. When you get this e-mail, click on the link shown to finalize your vote.

7. If you’d like, consider voting for 4RV’s other nominees in other categories. In particular, my publisher, Vivian Zabel, has been nominated for best author, art director Aidana WillowRaven, who works terribly hard and does great work, has been nominated for best artist, and 4RV is in the running as a whole for publishing print and e-books.

Voting closes at midnight, January 9th. Thank you ever so much for your help! Major celebratory beverages will be poured if I win! (I’m currently running third.)

Charmed Life

As with the first book in the series, Wild Life, there’s also a mystery to be solved, and while doing so, Bennett draws us deep into Sondra’s and Sax’s histories: their triumphs, disappointments, the turning points that landed them where they’d never intended, and going forward, the deepening of their friendship. (Don’t despair, fans of Claire and Milo: they’re also part of the story.)

I read most of the book while traveling, had a wicked hard time putting it down, and even had to be reminded by a flight attendant to turn off my Kindle so the plane could land. What I admired most about Charmed Life, like Wild Life, is the compelling way Susan Wells Bennett draws a character. Each, even her minor players, are human, deeply flawed at times but in the end, endearing. I wanted all of them to find the love and happiness they deserved. Keep writing, Susan…I MUST know how this plays out!

1. Childlike: An adult who has not lost his or her innocent sense of wonder at the world. Think Dr. Seuss, Mr. Rogers, or Robin Williams off his meds.
2. Childish: A more negative connotation, drawing up references to “childish behavior” discouraged by parents, such as pouting and selfishness, or how some adults act. Especially on reality television programs or on Black Friday.
3. Juvenile: From Latin. On the surface, this word refers to “one who is youthful.” It has also taken on the negative connotation of juvenile or immature behavior. Especially on reality television programs or Black Friday.
4. Neophyte: From the Greek words meaning “newly planted”, first recorded use 1590. Has a bit more sophisticated ring than “newbie.” Does not refer to any of Keanu Reeves’ battle scenes from The Matrix. Sorry. I know how badly you want it to.
5. Noob or N00b: From the world of online gaming and internet forum slang, short for “newbie” but used in a more derisive fashion. Say, a newbie who refuses to learn the rules of a group, blusters around obnoxiously pretending they know what they’re doing but ends up wiping out your landing party with an enchanted hand grenade.
6. Green: From Old English, meaning young or raw, also gullible. Greenhorn (a young buck, elk, ram or other horned beast just sprouting his horns) is another variant, a slang term applied to a newly arrived member of a group who hasn’t yet learned the secret handshake. As in, “That greenhorn thought Dr. Seuss made house calls.”
7. Novice: One Latin form of this word, novicius, was used in reference to newly acquired slaves. Odd that it’s also used to describe someone in a religious order. Coincidence? Discuss.
8. Apprentice: from Old French, “one who is learning.” Perhaps Donald Trump could apprentice to someone who has some humility, and maybe hair styling experience.
9. Amateur: “One who has a taste for (something)” from French and Latin. Amateurish is an entirely different matter. Even if you are an amateur, you want to avoid looking amateurish. Context is also important here. While amateur athletes are revered, amateur brain surgeons are shunned.
10. Tyro: From Middle Latin, meaning “young soldier or recruit.” Not to be confused with “Tyra,” which according to the Urban Dictionary, means to throw a tantrum if things don’t go your way. You know, like a child. But not “childlike.”

—

What makes an animal?

Consider the Madagascar hissing cockroach. Or…maybe not. Gromphadorhina portentosa is not exactly the Brad Pitt of the insect world. If I lived in Madagascar I’d be laying in a good supply of Raid.

But somehow PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) has overlooked the fact that scores of obviously live and kicking Madagascar hissing cockroaches are allowed to be crunched to their doom by obviously insane Fear Factor contestants every year, who seem to be willing to eat or do anything for the prospect of being on TV and going home with $50,000 (and probably some form of exotic parasitic disease).

Yet during Fear Factor’s original run, PETA nailed a Virginia Beach nightclub that allowed contestants to swallow live goldfish.

I don’t know. Is it the “cute” factor? Must a creature pass some sort of beauty-pageant litmus test in order to be taken under PETA’s wing? Spotted owl? Cute. Baby harp seal? Awww. Madagascar hissing cockroach? Pass. Get some plastic surgery, dude, then send in that head shot again, okay?

Possibly the omission is because PETA has too much on their plates. What with getting all huffy demanding that a town near me change its name from “Fishkill” to something less violent toward our finny friends (Someone didn’t do their research: “kill” is Old Dutch for “brook,” folks. Every other town around here is named Something-kill) to killing dozens of trees with mailings warning me of the evils of animal product testing, they’ve got quite a lot to do.

But hissing cockroaches aside, they’ve missed something really, really huge.

Windows kill an estimated 1 billion birds each year.

That’s right. Windows. (That’s why I use a Mac)

But seriously, according to ornithologist Daniel Klem, who was interviewed by NPR’s John Nielsen on Morning Edition, “It’s a very common phenomenon. Birds are deceived. They just don’t see glass as a barrier and this is a problem for them.”

I’d say dying a horrible death by ramming your tiny little body head first into a solid pane of glass could be a bit of a problem.

But just to prove his hypothesis, Klem went into a forest and hung some windows off the branches of trees. Then he watched as an “appalling” number of collisions occurred. From an eight-foot perch, many of the birds smacked splat into the windows and died.

Cripes, he could have saved his research money (and many unnecessary avian deaths) and come over to my house to watch the dingbat birds doing the same thing here.

We had a feeder over our front stairs for four months. The same birds kept coming around. They’d become smart enough to get the seed out of the feeder, and to know where to find the spillage when it’s empty. Then, when it’s obvious we’re not going to refill for a few days (we’re afraid of them getting too plump to escape from the neighborhood cats) they stop coming. When we refill the feeder, somehow they figure out that it’s safe to come back. You’d think they’d have a good bead on the landscape by now, but no, there’s that THUNK again.

Window, dipstick.

Tiny pinfeathers are sticking to the panes.

And there’s your research.

PETA seems to be ignoring this. A quick search of their web site revealed that their only beef against birds and windows is the recommendation that when you cage a large bird (and remember, there are no such things as “caged” birds, all birds are wild animals and deserve to be free), don’t use a cage with glass sides or mirrors for the very same reason that birds can’t see it and will fly headfirst into it and knock themselves silly.

However, another site (birdsandbuildings.org) suggests putting a flexible screen outside your window (they claim decals don’t work) or using “fritted or patterned” glass. The problem is that humans have found these alternatives objectionable in their homes, as it interferes with the clarity of their views.

I mean, which would you rather have, a semi-obstructed view or billions of kamikaze birds going splat against your panes?

If a creature is that stupid, I’d rather spend my resources trying to save the Madagascar hissing cockroach. I could go on Fear Factor, eat a bunch of them, and put the $50,000 toward modifying their DNA to make them look like bunnies.

(Note: no animals were harmed in the making of this post.)

Therefore writers have to get crafty about annoying everyone you know promoting your book sans retail establishments. Here are a few “outside the brick-and-mortar” ideas that just might work, or at least would be amusing to try.

Bookstore Ninja. This is fun and requires only a copy of your book, a camera, and an accomplice or two. Have an accomplice distract the salesperson by requesting an obscure book about the mating habits of the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach while you place your book on the shelf of your dreams and snap away. Post photos, like the one above I took at a certain large bookseller that shall remain nameless, on your social media. Feeling totally reckless? Leave it there.

Tricks With Tablets. This is another amusing attention-getting device which probably cheeses off the guys and gals at the Genius Bar and Geek Squad. If you’re in a store that sells tablet computers and e-readers and foolishly puts samples out for you to play with, casually pull up your book page and leave. Yeah, I know it reverts back, but if the traffic is heavy, some folks who might not normally see your book will get a glimpse.

Trainspotters. It’s so awesome to see people reading your book in public. When I do, I want to run up and hug them, if not for that nasty business with the restraining order. Know any regular commuters? Give them a copy of your book to read on public transportation. If you’re traveling with companions, sneak them a copy and take their picture as they read. Voila! Instant promo.

The Waiting Room Game. I’ll take “Two Hours of My Life I’ll Never Get Back” for $200, Alex. The doctor’s office. The dentist. The chiropractor. The DMV. A hospital library or waiting room. Slip a copy or two in with the magazines. Think of these copies as seed money. Even if someone walks off with your book, that’s still a reader, and a reader who might pass on your name to their friends. Bonus points if you tailor the drop-off location to your audience. Does Lassie save the day? Drop a copy off at a local pet groomer or vet’s office. Teenage mutant zombie/vampire apocalypse? Try the pediatrician’s waiting room. Comedy? Anywhere people are awaiting a stressful procedure. Try your local IRS or waxing salon.

November is probably the worst month of the year to write a novel. Sure, 50,000 words is a rather short novel (most of mine hover around 100,000 words), but it’s still a lot of writing and a lot of time away from November–oriented activities, like visiting family and food preparation for Thanksgiving. Guarantee that if Chris Baty, the outgoing founder of NaNoWriMo, were a woman, he’d have picked a different month. Like March. March is a good month to write a novel. It’s blustery and cold outside. There aren’t any major holidays. And bonus, it’s got 31 days! Twenty-four extra hours to get in that word count and let the dishes pile up in the sink.

The first time I did NaNo, in 2004, I think I was out of my mind to even sign up. I had no business writing a novel. I was already writing a novel. I was also working 50-hour weeks on a major project at work. And just for kicks, I had family coming to visit during Thanksgiving. I would wake up at 5:30 every morning, snort some coffee, write for about an hour and a half, go to work, come home and collapse. On weekends, I wrote as much as possible, banking away word count to spot me on those days I would need to cook and be a good hostess and go to the hospital to visit my mother-in-law, who was ill at the time. But I finished. Despite everything. Despite unexpected demands on my time, despite loved ones who needed my attention. Despite even working on someone else’s computer when I had to be away from home for a couple of days.

I was so proud of myself. I loved watching my word count rise, I loved sitting down to my computer every morning, wondering where these characters would take me. It seemed that story was just flowing out of me, and I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. Even now (mainly because this is the manuscript I’m currently editing for a shot at publication), I remember where I was when I wrote which part. I remember the part I wrote when I woke up the morning after Election Day and my husband told me that once again there was no clear winner. I remember the first morning, when I closed my eyes in front of the keyboard and just started typing. (It’s a trick I use to defeat the blank page.)

You’ll be proud of yourself, too. Just a few tips for planning ahead:

1. Set a daily quota. This is the Mother of All NaNo Rules, or at least it is for me. Take that 50,000 words and divide it by the number of days you will realistically be able to work on it during the 30 days of November. (Could be worse. Baty could have picked February.) Put that quota on a sticky note in a prominent place. If you can write more, great. Maybe you’ll even be able to take Black Friday off to go shopping.

2. Get some healthy food in the house. This is not the time to live off Doritos and Red Bull. Make some meals in advance and freeze them. When you do cook, think leftovers. I make triple batches of stuff. And have healthy but substantial snacks around, like almonds and dried fruit. The last thing you want to do is eat crap all month long and wake up sick on December 1. That’s a lousy time to be sick.

3. Lower your standards for household cleanliness. A little dust and a few spiderwebs never killed anybody. The dishes in the sink aren’t going anywhere. You are not a failure because you don’t have clean underwear or you’re slurping coffee out of a soup bowl. If your family members are so indignant, let them take up a sponge and have at it.

4. Don’t skimp on sleep. It’s tempting to cheat a bit out of those eight hours to up your word count. But a tired writer is an unfocused writer. It’s also bad for your health, especially if you are ignoring point #2 and living on Doritos and Red Bull.

Good luck, back up your work, and have fun!