Kindle Publishing

To Kindle or not to Kindle, that should be the question for every author who retains rights to his or her published material. Since I have two ebooks and several online short stories to offer, I was excited to see a new device (with a wireless download feature) that was actually selling.

When I wrote my first Lisa Donahue mystery novel, "Bound for Eternity," several agents and small publishers were interested enough to read it and comment favorably, but the major objection was, "we don't know how to market it." I was surprised: surely a story about an Egyptian mummy and murder in a creepy old attic museum had some selling points?

This forced me to think hard about what I had to offer as an archaeologist to the marketing of fiction. Since "Bound" was based on a real mummy project at the University of Illinois, I realized that my best "sales gimmick" was to market the novel along with the non-fiction book "The Virtual Mummy."

Self-publishing is not for everyone (and yes, there is definitely a stigma attached to it), but it my case it proved a successful strategy for getting the novel out before the companion book went out of print. I used iUniverse, which meant I retained my rights to everything except the final formatting of the manuscript and the cover design.

A month ago I decided a Kindle edition of "Bound" was worth trying, especially since preparing it cost me nothing but my time. The website is streamlined and user-friendly, and in a few hours I had reformatted the manuscript and a prepared a new cover.

To my astonishment, uploading the Kindle edition generated a favorable, new review in Midwest Book Review within days.

I expect no more than a modest increase in sales for my novel, but I'm thrilled at the new exposure. An electronic edition will never go out of print...as long as there is a server to offer it and a program like Amazon's.

INTERVIEW WITH LIBBY FISCHER HELLMANN

I first met Libby at the Love is Murder convention in Chicago. Libby has two mystery series and many short stories to her credit, and a brand new book, Easy Innocence, coming out in April. She is also a past president of Sisters in Crime.

How have your other careers in television news and video production influenced your fiction writing? Do you "see" scenes the way other writers "hear" voices in their minds?

I do. In fact, I have to see the “film” in my head -- establishing shots, CUs, pans, and moves -- or I can’t write it. The other element that’s helped enormously -- and I know it came from my film background -- is pacing. I think I have a good notion of when the action needs to be ramped up… calmed down… and when to cut to other scenes. I was an assistant film editor for a couple of years, and that had its effect.

Your series protagonist, Ellie Foreman, appears to have some similarities with you in terms of background and choice of profession. But where did your cynical female cop, Georgia Davis, come from?

Beats me. I’m still not sure. Probably the dark side of my personality. Actually, Georgia was a supporting character in my second and third “practice” novels (I wrote 3 unpublished novels before the first Ellie book), so she actually pre-dates Ellie. I always knew I was going to come back to her eventually. It’s not that she’s cynical as much as she’s been raised closer to the bone… ie on the street.. In addition she has some emotional baggage which weighs heavily.

Tell us about Easy Innocence, the book that comes out in April 2008. Is this a departure for you? How?

Yes, it’s a departure in several ways. First, it’s a PI novel, not amateur sleuth. Amateur sleuth novels get tricky after a while -- how many dead bodies can Ellie come across as a video producer? Why would she even get involved? Having a PI is an excellent solution to both issues. Second, EASY INNOCENCE is a much darker book than I’ve previously written. Still, I hope readers will still find the same level of suspense.. maybe even more. Finally, it’s a more personal book. The idea came to me as my daughter was passing through high school. I was recently separated and feeling unequal to the task of parenting a teenager. EASY INNOCENCE is in some ways every mother’s nightmare.

Will Ellie Foreman come back in another book?

Yes. I’m writing an Ellie-Georgia book right now. Both characters, both voices. It’s proving to be a little tricky.

Which novel or short story you have written is your personal favorite, and why?

Of my novels, I like AN IMAGE OF DEATH the best. At least until now. IMAGE, which incidentally is the novel that introduces Georgia (she and Ellie are working the case at the same time) says things I didn’t know I wanted to say, primarily about women and the choices they are forced to make in order to survive. As for short stories, two recent ones, HIGH YELLOW which was in A HELL OF A WOMAN, and YOUR SWEET MAN, which was in CHICAGO BLUES were also departures for me, and I like the way they both turned out.

You've lived in other cities besides Chicago. Do have plans to set any future books in say, Philadelphia, or would you "rather be dead" than do that?

Ah… you’ve hit a sore spot with Philadelphia. I don’t want to offend any Philly readers -- and I DID set a chapter or two of AN IMAGE OF DEATH there -- but I don’t see myself setting any novels there. I went to college in Philadelphia and thought the streets were too narrow and the food too fattening. I liked the Second Fret, though. I set HIGH YELLOW in my home town of Washington, DC, which was fun. But again, I don’t see myself setting entire novels there. I belong to Chicago and it belongs to me.

How do you juggle your other career(s) with your writing and touring schedule and being mom to a teenager --do you cheat on sleep?

It’s a lot easier now. My son is in law school in California, and my daughter in college. So I have more time than before. Unfortunately, it hasn’t made me any more productive. (I wonder why..) In fact, I think I was more disciplined when I had less time. I find myself playing a lot of Spider Solitaire. Wonder what that means???

Who is the one writer, alive or dead, you would most like to meet?

Shakespeare. I’d love to pick his brain. I’d love to pick his brain.

New crime fiction authors are encouraged to join writers' organizations whenever possible. Which organization has been most rewarding for you personally?

No question, Sisters in Crime… hands down.

You've been interviewed many times before. Is there a question no one has ever asked that you're just dying to answer?

What would you do if you couldn’t write fiction?

For more on Libby, visit her website here.

Turning Points

Exactly seven years ago, my husband Charlie and I set off on a safari of Kenya and Tanzania to celebrate our 25th anniversary. We quickly discovered that a trip in a safari vehicle--one with a top that comes off so tourists can take pictures without getting eaten by animals--is a kind of confinement. You're not allowed to walk around, you have to have an iron bladder, and you'd better like your fellow passengers, including the tse tse flies.

The first part of the trip was great--I saw Olduvai Gorge and some of the oldest skulls on the planet lying around loose in the Nairobi museum. We headed south into Tanzania and a guide wrapped a boa constrictor around my neck so Charlie could take a picture of my horrified face. We enjoyed watching lions and flamingos in the Ngorongoro Crater.

Then we had the accident. A tire blew so suddenly that our vehicle tipped over and rolled on a perfectly good road in the Serengeti. One man was thrown out through the open roof and killed instantly. Three others were injured badly enough to end up in hospital, including Charlie.

I was uninjured because I'd found an ancient, tangled seatbelt and put it on. My seatmate, Andy, who was only 11, hung on safely to the driver's seat. We became roommates back in Nairobi after our relatives were hospitalized.

Charlie had 8 broken ribs and a punctured lung. That meant staying in Kenya an extra three weeks until he was well enough to fly. But he was alive--and the man he'd changed places with on the morning of the accident was not.

As we reflected on this, I realized our lives would never be the same. Neither of us would take our marriage--or life itself--for granted again.

But sometimes good things come out of terrible experiences. My husband, a physician, decided to retire early to make mixed media art. I realized it was time to take my fiction-writing seriously and began to work harder on my first novel.

Eventually I wrote a short story "Safari," inspired by the African experience. It conveys some of the experience of traveling with strangers in a small vehicle in an exotic setting--and a different kind of "accident."


To download this story, go to Echelon
Press.

Mysteries in Archaeology: The Untold Story of the Iceman

My day job is archaeology, which means I tend to think in layers and I love dirt—both real dirt as in soil, and “dirt” as in good stories about squabbling academics trying to steal each other’s research. Fortunately for me, the archaeological profession is full of multilayered, dirty stories, just like the strata of an excavation.

Take the Iceman, the mummified Neolithic man found in a melting glacier in the Tyrolean Alps. His story has at least three layers: his life in ancient times, his discovery about fifteen years ago, and the saga of the international investigation and border dispute over his body.

When Ötzi, as he is now known, was discovered, his finders thought he was just another dead hiker who’d strayed off the trail in bad weather. Granted, he was a bit leathery-looking, but the folks who ripped him out of the ice and hauled him away (leaving a couple of crucial body parts behind) hadn’t a clue they’d just found one of the most sensational archaeological discoveries of all time.

Ötzi was alive 5,000 years ago. Archaeologists have reconstructed his equipment: he carried a knapsack and a medicine bag, and wore an ingenious set of leggings and a warm, furry cloak. He also had a knife, bows and arrows, and a fire-making kit. But who was he? Where did he come from, and where was he going? Despite the best techniques known to science, many questions about Ötzi remained unanswered.

Archaeologists know the kind of settlement he came from, but not which one. They say that he was probably an important man in Neolithic society, but no one knows his name or family. And everyone thought he died in a blizzard until new X-rays revealed an arrowhead in his shoulder—poor Ötzi was shot from behind. Then someone—the murderer?—removed the arrow and the evidence of the crime was covered up by 5,000 years of glaciers and silence.

The intrigue doesn’t stop there. Scientists and archaeologists from several countries collaborated in the modern studies of the Iceman’s tissues, tattoos, and diet. Did they all get along as well as the news media claimed? Or were some researchers angered as others published their findings in prestigious journals and appeared on Nova? And since the Iceman was found near the border between Austria and Italy, officials from both countries argued over who would ultimately own the mummy and build the museum to display him.

Italy won. A month ago, I visited Ötzi in his new home in the South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology in Bolzano. He’s resting in a special climate-controlled case looking very small and lonely. Although the museum has done a great job of displaying the scientific and archaeological account of his death, a good mystery writer needs to tell the story of his life. Takers, anyone?

The Mystery of the Getty Kouros

The saga of the Getty Kouros is a perfect example of a mystery that neither scientists nor classical archaeologists can solve. In the late 1980's the J. Paul Getty Museum in Malibu, California, heard of an unusually fine Greek marble statue, a kouros or youth, available for purchase. Stylistically, it appeared to date to the sixth century B.C., but experts were divided about whether the statue was authentic. Why was it so pristine and white? Why did the style of the hair not match that of the feet? Would an ancient sculptor have mixed so many styles in one statue? The discussion was complicated by the fact that most existing kouroi are in fragments--only about thirteen exist that are in as good condition as this one.

So how does an archaeologist or museum curator proceed? The Getty Museum asked for some scientific testing of the marble, hoping geologists could determine where the marble came from and whether the surface crust was ancient or modern.

Here’s where the story gets as twisty as a good Agatha Christie novel before Hercule Poirot steps in. A geologist sourced the marble to the island of Thasos, an ancient quarry site, and said the statue had a calcite crust that could have only developed over a long period of time. This was enough for the Getty, and they purchased the statue.

But then it emerged that the provenance papers were faked(!) and there was another torso, an obvious fake, with striking stylistic similarities. The Museum purchased that sculpture too and took the kouros off display for further tests.

New results revealed that the surface crust on the kouros was much more complex that originally thought (a calcium oxalate monohydrate rather than calcium carbonate) with certain characteristics that could not be duplicated in the laboratory. Furthermore, the kouros did not have the same surface as the torso, which was apparently treated in an acid bath.

At a conference in 1992, archaeologists and scientists met to debate all the evidence. Unfortunately, no forger stood up and confessed; the scholars were split down the middle on the authenticity of the kouros. The Getty kouros remains either one of the finest ancient Greek statues ever discovered, or one of the best fakes ever produced.

Even Poirot can’t solve this one…

Interview with Barbara D'Amato

One of the great pleasures of attending mystery conferences such as "Of Dark and Stormy Nights" and "Love is Murder" (now combined into one meeting in February) or "Malice Domestic" is meeting wonderful people. I'm honored and delighted to present today's interview with Chicago author Barbara D'Amato.

Your bio says you were once an assistant tiger handler. How did that happen? Did you like the tigers?

My husband and I had written a musical comedy called “The Magic Man.” It starred David Copperfield in his first theatrical role. When we spun off a children’s theater version, called “The Magic of Young Houdini,” I found that the stagehands did not want to handle the tiger in the change-the-lady-into-a-tiger illusion. It takes two people, the tiger’s trainer and an assistant, to get the tiger from his travel cage into the illusion equipment and out again. I worked this job for quite some time. But the trainer is a skilled person. An assistant handler, like me, is unskilled. And maybe stupid [I did like the tiger and probably didn’t fear him enough]. However, I also worked as carpenter and repair person for the big illusions for years, which was a huge amount of fun. I could tell you how the beautiful young lady is balanced on the points of three swords or levitates or how you cut a person in half. But I won’t.


A writer can learn new techniques by going back and forth between fiction, non-fiction, plays, and poetry. How did writing plays make you a better mystery novelist?

Well, I hope I’m better. One of the things you learn in plays is that you can’t black out between scenes and leave the audience hanging. Grab them right away, get them into the new scene. The mental-change problem is even more difficult in the “magical musicals” Tony and I wrote. After a magic illusion the audience is still saying, “How’d they do that?” when you’re trying to remind them of the plot. And to a large extent this is also true after songs in musicals. I suppose—bottom line—I learned to keep the main plot in the forefront of my mind.


Which of your books or stories is your personal favorite and why?

My favorite story was “Steak Tartare.” It will be reprinted in the anthology “Sisters on the Case,” which contains stories by all the presidents of Sisters in Crime and will be published in October.


“Hard Tack” is a great example of a locked room mystery—in a boat on Lake Michigan during a humdinger of a storm. It also shows a detailed knowledge of sailing. Did you write this from your own experience, or someone else’s?

I have never sailed a big luxury yacht, like the one in the book. But I’ve lived on Lake Michigan all my life. I used to sail a Sailfish out on the Big Lake. This is kind of like sailing a good-sized coffee table. But the basic idea of making use of the power of the wind, of tacking, of coming about, is the same. The difference is that in a Sailfish, there’s no cabin; icy cold Lake Michigan waves are breaking over you all the time. I did go on a real yacht in the course of doing the research.


One doesn’t normally associate dead bodies with Christmas trees. Did you grow up knowing about the Christmas tree industry in West Michigan, or did you research it especially for “Hard Christmas?”

I researched it for the book. I realized I’d been driving past Christmas tree farms all my life and never knew basic things about growing the trees. Much to my surprise, the growers say fertilizers don’t help. The important things are enough water and making sure the trees aren’t crowded or shaded, so that they grow bushy. They are also sheared to make them bushier. The experts use long, ultra sharp blades that look like big bread knives. Christmas trees are one of very few agricultural crops that are harvested in winter.



What is the story behind the story in “Death of a Thousand Cuts?”

Bruno Bettelheim was a spectacularly successful man who wrote books about child development and ran a residential facility in the 1950s and 60s for what he claimed were autistic children. He claimed that autism was caused by cold parenting, especially on the part of the mother. He told the parents of his patients that they had caused their children’s problems and he told the children that it was their patents’ fault. Even back then, researchers saw that boys were at least four times as likely to be autistic than girls and if one of a pair of identical twins was autistic, the other was much more likely to be than a randomly selected child—clear tests for a genetic component. Bettelheim was not a doctor and not trained in psychology. But people took him at his own valuation, and he ruined many lives. Living in Chicago as long as I have, I had heard early on how wonderful he was, then heard the stories come out that he was abusive to his charges, that few of his patients were autistic in the first place, and that few really improved. The Bettelheim character in Death of a Thousand Cuts is a Dr. Schermerhorn, who, unlike Bettelheim, at least has a medical degree. Early in the book, he is gruesomely murdered. Heh, heh.


What are you working on now? Is this project taking you places you've never been before?

The new book stars a woman archaeologist from Northwestern University. She visits coastal Peru, researching the Moche, who lived 1700 years ago, and Anatolia in central Turkey, researching Çatalhöyük, which was a thriving city seven thousand years ago. I’ve been fascinated by what I’ve found out in the last year about ancient cultures, but I have frequently wished that I was as knowledgeable as you.

For more on Barbara's books and stories, visit her website here.

Experimental archaeology and writing

Archaeologists like experiment with early technologies like flint-knapping or pottery making because it helps them to get inside the minds of ancient craftsmen. I began making pots during college when my dorm was conveniently located near the pottery studio in Cambridge, Mass. I discovered I was a terrible potter, which immediately increased my respect for ancient Greek ceramists who achieved even wall thicknesses, delicate rims, and graceful handles in ways I couldn’t possibly replicate.

In my current job, I work with Illinois archaeologists who are interested how the transition between large, thick-walled cooking pots to smaller, thin-walled pots relates to changes in diet and cooking methods. Is it because the cooks switched from cooking with heated rocks dumped into large pots filled with water and starchy seeds to cooking over direct heat? Or do the pots change because people were switching from cooking seeds to boiling the earliest form of corn? Which pots survive repeated firings best and why?

To answer such questions, the experimental archaeologist must make lots of pots using different combinations of local clays and additives such as sand or crushed shell, different construction methods, and firings at different temperatures and lengths of time.

The process is very similar to what a writer does when experimenting with plot complications and point of view. My latest short story (about an archaeological dig in Italy) went through five versions before I chose one to polish and submit to AHMM. I took the same basic premise but changed the villain, the hero, the point of view, and the ending—five times. It was exhilarating because I realized that I had the germs of five different stories that I could go back to later.

Whether making pots or writing a story, there’s no single way to do it. If you’re a genius, maybe you get it right on the first try. For me, what works is steady experimentation with an open mind—you have to be willing to say “what if I did it this way?”—and then do it.