The Best Part

What’s the best part about “publishing” a book? (I use the term advisedly, as putting one’s own work out as an e-book may strain some people’s definition.) Sure, the money’s nice. I’ve made over $80 from Wild Bill so far (that’s eight-oh, with a zero) and could crack triple digits. The fame is nice; this blog alone has nine followers. No book tour, so, alas, no groupies, though I do have a little something going on with the lady of the house.

Any of the above would have made Wild Bill a success for me. (Especially that last one.) What made it an unqualified success here at The Home Office was the attention the book received from writers whose work and opinions I had come to respect. Some I knew reasonably well, mostly online. Some I had only a nodding acquaintance with. There were even a couple I hadn’t known before who heard of the book one way or another and took the time to write enthusiastically about it.

I discovered Tim Hallinan when I was asked to review A Nail Through the Heart, his first Poke Rafferty novel. I’ve read everything he’s written since. Adrian McKinty became known to me when I reviewed The Dead Yard; I then kept up, and reached back to read Dead I Well May Be. (I’ve fallen a book behind, solely because no US publisher saw fit to print Falling Glass, which I believe won awards in more enlightened parts of the world. My copy is on its way as we speak.) I’d read a couple of Charlie Stella’s short stories and got my first exposure to his novels with I reviewed Shakedown. I’m about halfway through his complete oeuvre now. Tim Hallinan put Leighton Gage in touch with me; I’m working my way through the Inspector Silva series.

All of the above are writers I was but a fan boy of when I wrote Wild Bill. (Mike Dennis, Pat Browning, and Karen Treanor came to my attention after the fact, though their support is no less appreciated.) They were established writers who had achieved what I barely aspired to. Their compliments and willingness to extend themselves means, to me, that I’m not just jerking off when I lock myself in my office every day or evening and hammer out another page or two. Their comments have made my writing easier on those days when I feel stuck and go through the stage every writers has with every book, when he is convinced it’s a piece of shit and months have been wasted working on something no one will ever want to read, including the author. I can do this. I may not become rich—though $80 is nothing to sneeze at—but I have the satisfaction of knowing I can hold my own and not have people think, “He’s a nice guy, but a shitty writer.” (In truth, that never worries me much. I’m not that nice a guy.)

So, thanks to everyone who reviewed, commented on, or read Wild Bill. (For those who have not, it’s still available for $2.99 on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.) And, in the name of being careful what you ask for, my next book, Worst Enemies, will be available March 1. Details and more shameless self-promotion to come.

Wild Bill (and Me) at New Mystery Reader

New Mystery Reader has posted a review of Wild Bill by Karen Treanor, as well as an interview Karen did with me. It was great fun, and many thanks go to Karen and Stephanie Padilla at NMR.

By the way, for those who are looking for good review sites, New Mystery Reader is an excellent resource. There are monthly author interviews, and the list of reviewed books is substantial and covers a broad range of crime interests. Well worth a look.

Interviews

I’ve been an intermittent interviewer for six years, doing a couple a year on average. I enjoy the process and try to strike a balance of questions no one else will ask with questions that are asked often because people want to know the answers. (Never “Where do you get your ideas?” I’ve never asked that question, and I promise you I never will.) I have kiddingly patted myself on the back several times when an interview is well received, “reminding” everyone the key to a good interview is in the questions.

Turns out I was right.

I never expected anyone to care enough about Wild Bill to want to ask the author about it. Thankfully, I was wrong about that. I’m in the process of replying to my fourth set of questions this week. Each interview has been unlike the others, and each has been fun. The questioners have approached Wild Bill, and me, in unique manners, so the questions have forced me to think about different things, and even to consider things I hadn’t thought of while I was writing the book. The interviews have been even more gratifying than the good reviews, in part due to the give and take, and, I think, because I’m flattered that someone took enough of an interest in the book to want to know more about where it came from. They have been an unadulterated blessing.

Some interviewers can get away with a list of stock questions they ask everyone. These interviewers either A) are well-known in their own right, or B) have a list of kick-ass questions. Anyone can generate a list of five questions off the top of their head, the questions they hope get asked at a book signing. Those are fine to work into a longer interview, but they don’t tell anything about this author and this book the reader couldn't have found elsewhere. They aren’t the way to get thoughtful answers unless the questions are unique and versatile. (Not “Where do you get your ideas?”)

Based on my experience on both sides of the equation, the best way to get a good interview is to make it obvious you read the book, and have generated questions based on things you found in the book. I don’t mean just about the story; many authors are reluctant to reveal spoilers in their own work. (What can you expect from prima donnas?) Ask about the writing, the characters, something unique about how a plot point was handled, the setting, any influences. Sure you can work in a few like “Why do you write in this genre?” or “Can you recommend a few books?” People want to know that and authors are happy to tell them.

If you really want a good interview, pick something from the book that stands out and ask about it. I have been lucky enough to interview Timothy Hallinan and Leighton Gage, who set their books in Thailand and Brazil, respectively. Both are witty, articulate, and fun. I doubt either of them could give a bad interview from inside an iron lung. Pick out something that stood out about either Thailand or Brazil and let them run with it. They’ll do the work for you.

The key to a good interview, like the key to any relationship, is to make the author feel as though you’re doing this interview because you want to interview that author, not just “I do a series of interviews and I couldn’t think of anyone better.” Don’t kiss ass, but don’t be afraid to stroke the author a little. I doubt you’d get good responses if the tone of the interview is, “Your book is a piece of shit, but I wondered how anyone could write something so horrible.” They may not warm to you; authors have egos, too.

And, if you ask “Where do you get your ideas?” you deserve whatever happens to you.

(Many thanks to Charlie Stella, Tim Hallinan, Pat Browning, and Karen Treanor for teaching me how much fun it can be to be the interviewee.)