Welcome to Autumn and Brimfield, Maine

Fall is swiftly fleeing, autumn leaves streaming from her colorful heels with winter's wind in fast pursuit. Here in Maine, snow has come and gone with a promise to return soon. This morning I walked my son to the bus and found Jack Frost had graffitied our truck, affectionately known as The Beast, in lovely silver-white swirls and crystalline swoops. Old Man Winter's calling card has arrived here in New England.

When I began working on a freelance writing career, I found most of the stories bubbling to the surface of my creative cauldron revolved around my experiences in life and family. Bored with writing a constant operatic warm up (you know: Meee, me, me Meeeee,)I created a cast of characters and set them to play out their lives within a world very similar to my own. Mike and Mary were born as was the Small and sleepy harbor town of Brimfield, Maine. These stories are meant to be read aloud in the spirit of Garrison Keillor or Stuart McLean.  However, I have read as well as listened to both Keillor and Mclean and have enjoyed the tales equally.

While the following story may not be seasonally pertinent, I think the worries, cares, successes and perceived failures will resonate with all times of the year and many readers locked in the daily struggle of living, loving and laughing. So please, come, sit at my table. Can I get you a coffee? Tea? Something a little, well, more? The fire is in the hearth, cookies cooling over there on the counter. Come, sit, and let me tell you a story.

Wishing you joy and luck on this day and every other, but most of all I wish you laughter. After all, a sense of humor is the only thing that makes sense at all. -Rebecca

 

Spring arrived in Brimfield, Maine on a Saturday morning riding a capricious, sea-scented breeze.  The winter had been full of long nights and cold days.  But on this day, memories of ice fishing and snowshoes, blizzards and sea smoke melted away with the last of the gray snow banks. 

From the stately painted houses on Main Street to the country cottages and farmhouses of the western boundaries, mothers everywhere banished the last remains of the mythic New England winter.  All over town windows were thrown open, porches swept, flowerbeds raked and countless boots, hats and scarves were packed away in bins and boxes by the winter weary Brimfieldians.   New England was ready for Spring, and it seemed Spring was ready for New England.

Perhaps the penultimate harbinger of spring had arrived just this morning. 

“Birdfeed Battle, Bears ON!” declared the local newspaper.  “Morris-1, Greeley’s birdfeeders-0.”  Greeley was Mrs. Glenna Greeley, local librarian and town matron.  Morris was a black bear with a taste for birdseed and a penchant for breaking and entering. 

“Go get ‘em Morris,” said Mike to his paper.  

Mike Sullivan was Brimfield’s pediatrician and no one was happier to see the tail end of winter than he was.  Mike was weary of the gray skies and solemn moods, of colds and the cold.  He understood poor old Morris, just woken up from a long nap, hungry and eager to be out and about.  Mike was tired of the unique claustrophobia that came with the annual hibernation all Northerners must endure.  

Rather than an epilogue to old man winter’s deep freeze, Mike welcomed the fine weather as a prologue of what was to come.  It was the kind of April morning that spun dreams of sun drenched beaches, backyard barbeques and ball games governed only by weather and streetlights.  It was the kind of April morning that made people restless and itchy for something, well, something more. 

Mike leaned back from the yellow enameled table ignoring the creaking protest of the old chair.  He stretched his hands behind his head and sighed.  Life was good.  He had his favorite chair, his favorite newspaper, his coffee, his family and most importantly he had absolutely nothing to do today.  He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the warmth and light streaming through the kitchen window and allowed his mind to wander back to a similar day many years past now.

Mary and Mike Sullivan lived here in the town of Brimfield with their three children in one of those proud, painted ladies on Main.  The Sullivans were “from away” as they say - “They” being the generations of tough Mainers born with the sea in their blood and ingenuity in their bones.  It has been almost 16 years since Mary found the house one sleeting, winter afternoon.  A freshman reporter for the Boston Globe, Mary had followed a story concerning the declining fishing industry to the small harbor town.  She had spent most of that morning unsuccessfully gathering information from the notoriously tight-lipped Mainers when she wandered past Sixty-Four Main Street, the “For Sale” sign poking above a two foot snow drift. 

Mary was instantly entranced. The porch had drawn her in, its wide wooden bulk wrapping its arms around the blue Victorian in a white gingerbread embrace.  But it was the grand staircase and stained glass windows that had captured Mary’s heart and soul.

“Buy it!” she had told Mike, “It’s perfect.”

Mike hadn’t been so convinced.  While Mary was charmed by the turrets and slated roof, Mike worried over ice dams and leaking rafters.  Where Mary smelled lemon polished history in the old oak paneling and lavender in the sun soaked kitchen, Mike caught the distinct scent of cat and something else.  Formaldehyde wondered Mike? 

But Mary had wanted the house and Mike wanted Mary.  So, on a blustery spring day, the couple moved into Sixty-Four Main and spent the next decade polishing and plastering the old Victorian while working their way into the hearts of the close knit community.

Mike took a job as the town doctor, with an office just down the block - house calls as needed.  Mary kept on at The Globe but transferred to the local paper when Margaret was born.  After Alex was born two years later, Mary freelanced for a number of local papers chronicling the trials and tribulations of small towns and family life, eventually becoming a syndicated columnist.  The town had been good to the Sullivans and the Sullivans worked hard to repay that kindness. 

But on this shining Saturday morning, Mike wasn’t worrying about cats or renovations or doctoring.  He had nothing ahead more strenuous than wondering what kind of fancy new bear-proof feeder Mrs. Greeley would try this year.  Today was a day of possibilities, a day where anything – or nothing- could happen. 

Nothing is exactly what this doctor ordered, thought Mike as he glanced through the headlines. 

“Morris is winning already,” said Mike to Mary when she wandered into the kitchen with her section of paper and a cup of tea. 

“Hmmm?” she asked and joined him at the little yellow table.

“Morris, the bear.  Got Old Lady Greeley’s Ultra-feed 4000 in under 12 hours.  Think that’s a new record.” Mike laughed.  “Saw a big box from Amazon at the Post Office yesterday.  Whaddya’ bet that’s an Ultra 5000?”

“Mmm,” said Mary and sighed.

Mike watched her over the top of the paper with a wary eye.  “You all right?”  Something told him his day of nothing was sliding into something.  Many years of marriage had given him a kind of sixth sense when things were about to go sideways and Mary seemed to be in a sideways kind of mood. 

“It’s nothing.  I’m being silly.”  Mary sighed again and the slapped her section of the paper down onto the table.  “It’s just, ugh.  It’s that Lauren McAlister.  She really fries my cookies,” said Mary, fiddling with her mug of tea.

Mike smiled.  “I think you mean burns your cookies.”

“Whatever.  She drives me crazy,” mumbled Mary.

“What did Our Lady of the Haughty Attitude do now?” asked Mike.

“Ugh, just because her husband is the Mayor she thinks it is her job to be the social conscience of the world.”

“The whole world?”

“Well, maybe just the town but don’t underestimate her.  Total world domination is on her To-Do list.”

Mike put down the Local Happenings section of the Coastal News.  “So what is the new crusade?  Whooping cranes?  Yellow-bellied sap suckers?  Can’t be spotted owls, we did that last year- still have the calendar.”

“Vegetables,” said Mary, head in her hands, pout on her face.

“Vegetables?” asked Mike and laughed.  “Is she for or against?”

“I guess that depends on where you buy them.”  Mary got up from the table and moved across the kitchen.  “She joined this co-op.  They bring you different vegetables each week.”  Mary pulled a bag of green beans from the freezer and banged it on the counter.  “Lauren was going on and on about how great the produce is and how co-ops reduce your carbon footprint.”  She banged the bag again.  It sounded like a sledge hammer.  “So, I got to thinking.”

Oh boy, thought Mike.  Sideways.  He gestured for Mary to give him the bag and she brought it over.  “What are you thinking?” asked Mike, working the block of frozen vegetables loose with his hands. 

“What do we do for the environment?” asked Mary, hands on hips.

Mike blinked.  “What do we do?  Well,” Danger warned Mike’s brain.  Defensive positions.  “We recycle.  We have a compost pile,” he said, “and the Molly never get new shoes.  Hand-me-downs are an institution in this house.”

Mary took the bag from her husband.  “No, Mike, I mean really do something.  I spent years writing about other people doing things, but what have I done?  Haven’t you seen those bumper stickers plastered on every carpool car? “Go Organic! Buy Local!”  Sylvia Brooks has one that says “Eat vegan and nobody gets hurt.”

Mike snorted and shook his head.  Sylvia Brook’s husband, Burt, was the town butcher.

Mary poured the beans into a glass bowl.  “How can I hold my head up in the carpool lane when our kids think vegetables are naturally frost-bitten?”

“So, you want to join a co-op?” asked Mike

“No.  I want to do her one better.  I want a garden,” answered Mary.  “If she can buy them, I can grow them.  That will put Our Lady of the High and Mighty in her place.”  Mary shoved the bowl into the microwave and pressed start.  She turned to her husband.  “What do you think?”

Now, it would be a full year later, over a pint of Guinness at Smith’s Pub, when Mike would recall that one question - “what do you think?” - and mark it in his memory as the point where everything had gone terribly wrong.  He would tell the story of Mary’s garden with the kind of sentiment men reserve for survival stories, hunting escapades and college drinking tales.  But on this morning, Mike could only register one thought - Run!

Mike felt it coming like a bad head cold.  He recognized that look, that unholy light shining behind her eyes.  It was a light that said many weekends would be lost in the name of family bonding.  It was a light that said cancel your golf game, Mike.  It was a light that said run, Mike, run!  Husbands and children for themselves!

That same light had shone a year before when Mary had embarked on her Zen period.  She had filled shallow bowls with sand, tiny stones and rakes and moved all the furniture according to the principles of Feng Shui.  One night, after a long evening of house calls, Mike thought he was crawling into bed only to fall into the laundry hamper.  The next night Mike tried to put his socks into Aunt May’s potted palm. 

Mary went on to tie little silver bells to all of the doors and windows.  Every time a breeze blew or a door opened there was supposed to be a light, energy cleansing chiming throughout the house.  With three kids, a dog and an ocean breeze, the house sounded like the test room at a miniature gong factory.  The cat had not come out for months. 

Breathe, thought Mike, returning from his gong-filled memory.  It’s only gardening.  How bad could it be?  Mike smiled, relaxing.  Gardening might be just the trick to keep Mary busy this summer.

“Sounds fantastic,” said Mike and kissed her on the head. 

Mary let out a long breath.  “I am so glad you get it.  Lauren said her husband Cliff didn’t understand any of this but I told her with you being a pediatrician, for God’s sake, of course you would understand it.”

“Of course I understand,” said Mike returning to the table and his paper.  “You know me, Mr. Environment.”  Mike ignored Mary’s raised eyebrows.  He was warming to the idea. 

On Sunday, Mike purchased a Farmer's Almanac at the Tractor Supply for his wife - his contribution to the cause.  He gave it to her that night along with two seed catalogs bound together by a red ribbon and a card. 

The card said: I love you Mary, Happy gardening.  Love, Mike. 

Monday morning, Mike followed the smell of French Roast into the kitchen to find Mary at the table.  She was wrapped in a fuzzy pink bathrobe, her seed catalogs spread out before her, coffee in hand.

“What do you think about escarole?” asked Mary.

“Escarole?” asked Mike, fumbling with the coffee pot.  “You want to grow snails?”

“Escarole, not escargot,” said Mary, shaking her head. 

“Oh,” said Mike.  He poured the coffee into a mug with a blue painted handprint on the side.  “Sure.  What’s escarole then?”

Mary smiled and made a check in the catalogue.  “I was thinking I need a theme- maybe Asian,” said Mary, flipping the pages.  “I can’t wait,” she said. 

“I am sure what ever you do will be wonderful,” said Mike and he kissed his wife on the head and spent the remainder of the chilly morning congratulating himself on a job well done.  His beautiful wife was happy and his golf game was safe.

 

 

Thank you for joining me in the inaugural post of Brimfield, Maine and the town's character and characters. Look for part two of Mary and Mikes adventures in gardening tomorrow, same Bat time, same Bat channel. Of course now I have dated myself as ancient and totally uncool. But wait! Batman is cool! Batman, bow ties and fezzes- they're cool. Good thing Retro is always back in style. Now where did I put those legwarmers and cassette tapes? The kids will love them!  -R

 

P.S. If you would like to listen to a master storyteller at work please visit Stuart Mclean at http://www.cbc.ca/vinylcafe/  You won't regret it! 

 

Mirror, Mirror

 

 Venus in Front of the Mirror
Peter Paul Rubens, 1613/1641



I am haunted by mirrors.

It took thirty-seven years, seventy-five pounds gained and lost and countless hours of angst (and therapy) to realize a simple truth: I do not look into the mirror at myself; I am looking for myself.  What does this mean for me as a writer?  Everything.

In a chapter titled Finessing Fear of his book The Courage to Write, Ralph Keyes includes a quote from Jill Robinson’s memoir Bed/Time/Story:

…The advantage of not knowing who you are is you can attempt to be all things to all men… or women.  My mother saw me always glancing in every mirror, every window;  in the gleaming blades of knives.  She said, “Jill is vain.”  She did not know I was looking to see who would be there this time.

Jill Robinson was in my head.  I had found a kindred soul  and, all at once, understood myself in a few inked pages. But there was no “Ah-Ha!” or joyous whoop, only a hot and stinging gathering of tears . 

 

Mirror, mirror,

On the wall, 

I don’t know you.

Not at all.



 Girl at Mirror, 1954
Norman Rockwell

This morning I looked hard into the mirror.  I looked past the tired mom, past the hurt friend, past the overwhelmed adult and blocked writer.  I searched for the faint outlines of what made me unique.  I caught a glimpse as the light shifted, but it was gone as quick as it came.  Fleeting, the girl with  sad eyes.

What does all of this have to do with writing?  While watching my reflection I realized my troublesome main character asks the same questions: Who am I beneath all these expectations, these labels?  Am I good?  Am I worth while?  Am I lovable?  Do I even care? 

She too is haunted by mirrors,both the mundane reflective surfaces and the metaphorical ones - the reflection of who she is in the faces of people around her.  Both of us are haunted by the terrifying "What If.".  What if, beneath it all, there is nothing worth finding?  What if, in finding HER, I will find ME?  That is Pandora’s box.  No wonder I can’t write her.  I am afraid of her.

I am a writer.  As such I require two things: something to say; and someone to hear it. What if, beneath it all, the struggle to write a novel, to find my voice, to see myself, there is nothing worth writing, nothing worth seeing, nothing worth reading? 

I write not only to tell a story but to also discover more about myself.   I put it all out there - my fears, my hopes, faults and strengths - for people to read and judge. 

 “Who am I? What do I think?”  asks Writer, me.

 “Who cares?  Why is it important?”  asks Reader, you.

It all comes down to judgment.  Writers write.  Readers judge. 

A reader’s time and money are precious.  It is a writer’s job to earn a share of those commodities.   Judgment Fest begins with the first read of the editor and culminates in sales.  Yes, writers write first for themselves, because they must, but we all need to pay the bills.  Ideas are free, heat and electricity are not.

Enter the independent publisher.  

Long maligned as a superhighway to clog the market with bad writing, independant publishing, otherwise known as vanity press, or self-publishing is gaining a foothold among new and established authors alongside smaller, specialized independent presses as well as the traditional large publishing houses. 

In a recent press release Amazon.com, Inc., announced Amanda Hocking, published through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing, has joined eleven other authors in the Kindle Million Club, having sold over a million paid copies of her novel in the Amazon.com Kindle store.  She joins such authors as David Baldacci, George R.R. Martin and Stephenie Meyer as well as fellow independent author John Locke.

Self-publishing platforms such as Amazon.com’s Kindle Direct Publishing allow authors to bypass typical obstacles of traditional publishing. The danger?  A glutted market full of careless and inferior writing.  The benefit?  Higher profit margins for authors and an evolving, diverse literary marketplace more representative of a rapidly changing global society. 



Echo and Narcissus (1903),
John William Waterhouse



This idea of independent publishing is gaining momentum within the writing community.   International Thriller Writers now include seminars in self-publishing and marketing in their annual conference.  Writer’s Digest Magazine, a prominent resource for writers, is currently promoting the 20^th annual Writer’s Digest Self Published Book awards, a competition held exclusively for self-published authors and their books.



The face of publishing is changing and like any evolving entity there are bound to be growing pains.  When the time comes for the literary world to take a long, hard look in the mirror, what will it see?  For me, for my character and for the publishing industry, the story is still being written. 

Put on your seat belts folks. It could be a bumpy ride.

Ted Krever, author of Mindbenders has first hand experience with the highs and lows of the  self-publishing world.  I hope you enjoy the third and final installment of my interview with Ted Krever as we discuss the changing climate of the writer’s world.

Part One: Mindbenders

Part Two: On Writing

Part Three

Publishing today with AuthorTed Krever

RM:  We met at ITW - International Thriller Writers conference - ThrillerFest.  There were so many amazing authors there, new and established.  It was a bit overwhelming for a newbie like me.

KREVER:  It was an interesting conference.  The most interesting thing for me was the response when I told people I was a self-published indie writer.  It was like I was the correspondent for Al-Jazeerah. Everybody there was either 'published' or seeking publication from a traditional publisher. I seemed to become the emissary from the scary future.

RM:  Everyone is realizing the publishing industry is changing but no one knows what that means- exactly.  There were a number of Indie publishers there, StoneGate Ink being one I remember.

KREVER:  I'm not talking about independent publishers. I'm talking about authors publishing themselves.  There were a few of us there.  You have to do it all yourself- no mommy or daddy to hold hands with.

RM:  Self-publishing or independent publishing is gaining a corner of the market though.  I have seen it gaining speed over the past few years.  Even Writer’s Digest is recognizing the trend with articles, how-to’s and contests.

KREVER:  Yeah, but I was really surprised and taken aback by the response I got. I'm used to writers being very supportive. These guys were uncomfortable with me. I scared them.  Oh for sure, it's a new world and a big one. But it's scary to contemplate. It is scary.  These people wanted nothing to do with it.

RM:  In a "don't talk to the guy with the pencil protector and the liverwurst sandwich" kind of way or in the "Gee, I am on the bus he just launched himself off of...should I stay or should I go now?" kind of way?  I seem to remember one of the Big Guys saying he self-published his first novella this year at a session at ThrillerFest.  That same guy also cautioned to never, ever give up rites to epub without an expiration date.

KREVER:  [David] Morrell said he would never sign a publishing contract these days until publishers made major changes to rights and ebook pricing.

RM:  Ahhh. That is it.  I think the biggest issue with self-pub is the editing process. Writers want to keep the writing intact but sometimes an editor can make a big difference in a million small ways.  I think skipping the editing process with a professional editor is not only foolish but suicidal.

KREVER:  No question. There's an infrastructure to traditional publishing that indies are going to have to find a way to emulate. And right now there just aren't sensible alternatives. But they'll emerge as the market matures. In the meantime, I think the lack of gatekeepers is an issue too. I think reviewers will emerge who people trust. They won't be national names but you'll find two or three whose taste you agree with and they will be your guardians, the ones who let you now who is worth your time and money.

RM:  I can’t help thinking that novels we consider classics today might be labeled as “not relevant” in today’s market and would subsequently remain unknown.  Do you feel like the self-publishing trend along with independent presses could be the remedy for a seemingly finicky and capricious market?

KREVER:  I had a really good agent tell me about eight months ago that she loved ‘Mindbenders’ but couldn’t take me on because she didn’t ‘do’ paranormal. I said, “Great—tell them you don’t like paranormal but you like this” and she answered “That’s not how it works.” And it isn’t. First of all, I don’t like the labeling—the marketing department runs the publishing company now. What ‘genre’ is ‘Huckleberry Finn’? I’m certainly not comparing myself to Twain but I’m saying the tail is now thoroughly wagging the dog.

I think the solution involves another step in technology. Right now, you have publishers—traditional or independent—who can’t afford to sell an ebook at a competitive price. And you have indie writers like me who can’t get paper books in bookstores nationwide, at least not in an effective way. Someone is going to have to put print-on-demand machinery in 5,000 independent bookstores around the country—the local independent bookstore will thrive as the chains go under—so that a customer can walk into the store, browse titles in a kiosk or on their own laptop or iPad , make a selection and walk out with a printed copy of the book all in one trip. The technology certainly exists, it’s just a matter of someone making the investment. It’s just a matter of time and industry politics.

RM:  So, Mr Krever, what is next for you?

KREVER:  The (first) sequel to ‘Mindbenders’. If aggravation is a sign of quality, this is guaranteed to be a great book.

~

Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.  ~George Bernard Shaw, Poet  

To write what is worth publishing, to find honest people to publish it, and get sensible people to read it, are the three great difficulties in being an author.  ~Charles Caleb Colton, Writer~

Ted Krever’s books can be found at Amazon.com, at Goodreads.com and  BarnesandNoble.com

For more information about Ted Krever please visit www.tedkrever.com

Ralph Keyes and his book The Courage to Write  can be found here. 

More about Jill Robinson and her work can be found  here.

Find the Writer's Digest's self-publishing contest here. 

Live to Write or Write to Live?

Balance 2011

The writing life is a strange and mercurial one.  When the muse is talking there is no greater high.  When that capricious lady clams up, well, life can be a bit sticky for a while.  But like any compulsion, I can’t stop.  Believe me.  I have tried.  So how do I live with the ups and downs that come with creating?  The business of living any Life, a creative life included, comes down to balance.

Osmosis, The law of Conservation of Energy, Feng Shui, the idea of finding balance is elemental and omnipresent.  But is balance attainable? Is a work/life balance  a reachable goal or  catching lightning in a bottle- the luck of the draw?



During his years as a paramedic, my husband, George, chanced to meet an elderly couple, married 75 years.



 "I just got married," George told the couple.  They smiled at him and then at each other. 

"Ah, new love," said the woman, her gnarled hand patting her husband's across the stretcher.

George smiled back.  "What is your secret?"  he asked.  "Seventy-five years and you obviously still care very deeply for one another." 

Herb (that was the man's name, Herb) looked at his wife.  A moment passed between them before he answered my husband.  "The secret, son,  is to never fall out of love at the same time.  Someone has to fight to keep it together and someone has to be allowed to doubt, if for only a little while."



Sisyphus by Titian, 1549



In other words, they took turns pushing the boulder uphill.  Like a teeter-totter, husband and wife took the highs and lows, ups and downs, balancing one another through the years.  They kept faith in a belief that what goes up must come down, and then go up again.  They found their balance.

Balancing writing and life with four children and a marriage is a challenge. With the demands of both career and family pressing in from all sides, I am learning what it takes to balance my time with family with a compulsion to create. 

Living with me isn’t easy in the best of circumstances and terrible (I suspect) in the worst; but I am a lucky girl.  My family doesn’t seem to mind the moody irritated writer who sometimes goes by Mommy or Rebecca or Honey, or at least they take it in stride.

Ted Krever, author of Mindbenders understands what it is to live a writer’s life. In Part Two of our interview, Krever and I ruminate on the ideas of craft, routine and chasing that ellusive balance between an artist’s internal world and an external life of family, second jobs and social interaction.  I hope you enjoy a glimpse into the inner workings of a writer's effort to live to write and write to live.

Part One: Mindbenders

Part Two
On Writing: Life and Craft with Author Ted Krever

RM:  As a writer, we pull from our past experiences. What are some of yours you feel most influence your writing?

 KREVER:  David Morrell said at ThrillerFest that if you read his books, they were all chapters in his emotional autobiography. I'm paraphrasing but I think accurately.

RM:  Yes, I remember that.

KREVER:  So it's not so much pulling from the past for me. It's discovering, through writing the books, what I'm struggling with now.  I know myself through my own writing; it's my best guide to my subconscious. And I work pretty hard to keep the subconscious instead of the conscious mind in control as much as possible. Of course, this is something Renn and Tauber deal with a lot in the book.

 RM:  When I was at ThrillerFest, I heard many different approaches to the work and craft of writing.  Everyone seems to have their own process, their own ritual.  What is your writing process?  Do you have a set schedule?

KREVER:  I write constantly, whenever I’m able.  If I can pull out a book or pad or laptop, I’m writing.  Some days, of course, staring at the blank screen in frustration is also considered writing. When I finish a book, I take a day off to pat myself on the back and start another.  They don’t always get finished, but I am always working.

RM:  Wow. A whole day?  Isn’t that a little extravagant?

KREVER:  I’m a hedonist, what can I say? When I have vacation days, like I will this weekend, that means more time to write!  This is something I need to do.  I’m a psychotic mess if I don’t deal with all these voices in my head.  This is lesson #27 I leaned from Neil Young: the more you throw away, the more you have.  If you write constantly and just keep putting it out, you keep finding more.  If you’re cautious and only write a couple of sentences a day, it gets harder and harder. You can't let any piece of the process get too important.

RM:  I think I know the feeling.  The Innerworld, the places and people and situations inside your head need a way to get out.  It creeps up on you and comes out in weird ways if I don’t get it out—like Alien dreams.  But we are talking about you.

KREVER:  It is the overall that matters.

RM:  So, don’t over-think the process of writing then, or the writing itself?

KREVER:  Don’t think, if possible, at all.  Put fingers on keys and go.  Fix it later.

RM: I am frustrated when my typing doesn’t move as fast as my brain and allows that internal critic to voice an opinion.  What do you do when your conscious mind gets in the way of your writing mind?

KREVER:  I’m talking, really, about first draft, where I want the story to come from as unconscious, subconscious a place as I can. Let it come together in rough form and then I’ll refine later. Which is why first draft usually takes me five restarts to come together— very inefficient but useful in other ways. In every book I've ever written, I slogged to within thirty pages of the end of the first draft and I'd write a sentence without thinking and look at it and go "Oh, that's stupid" and then look a second time and it would explode on me.  I've just told myself what the book is about.  And then I have to go back and the second draft is writing the story so it leads to that line

RM:  You surprise yourself. I do enjoy that part of the writing. When you read something from yesterday and think "Really? Where did that come from. I didn't know that!"

KREVER:  Because you never know what the book is truly about until the end of the first draft.  I'm just telling a story. But I think conscious is for later drafts. Unconscious for the first, for the story

RM:  To paraphrase Stephen King:  Write with the door closed and edit with it open.

KREVER:  Because that's the level [the unconscious] the reader should react from.  That is where character and story are the same thing. 

RM:  While in NYC, you accompanied me on a research field trip for my novel.  How do you approach research for your novels and at what point do you begin the fact finding?

KREVER:  Research for me is strictly answering the needs of the story. I don’t start researching until I need to know something or understand something and that’s all I do, though I’m open to whatever I find that’s interesting. I’m always open to being sidetracked because, again, it’s that element of being surprised. It only richens the mixture. And with a book like this, I researched a lot looking for limitations. What would be the limits of Renn’s mind power? What would get in the way? If you don’t have limits, you end up with Superman—all-powerful and essentially pretty boring.

RM:  You mentioned thriller writer David Morrell a moment ago.  There were many fantastic writers at Thrillerfest and all of them gave out advice of one sort or another.  What is the best writing advice you have ever gotten?

KREVER:  Joe Papaleo, my writing teacher, told me a novel is a gross form. Just throw everything on the page and cut back later. Unfortunately, he was dead by the time I learned how to cut back properly.  That's the other hard part. Learning to edit yourself.

RM:   What was the worst piece of advice?

KREVER:  That's a tough question. I guess it was the implied concept that you can learn to write by studying literature.  Literature is great but it has no relevance to the story that's inside you. You just have to let that out. Where it stands in terms of literature is for other people to figure out later. 

You want the best piece of advice that I offer? Don't know whether I made it up or heard it from someone.  C'mon...you've gotta give me permission so I'm not a pretentious little shit.

RM:  Ok.  Tell me.

KREVER:  Write what hurts.  If you write what hurts, you'll be into your subconscious. You'll be into what really matters to you, automatically. So you don't have to worry about what's at stake for the characters.  There's something major at stake for you so there will be for them.

On Living a Writer’s Life

RM:  How much does your writing life effect and or influence your living life, your relationships and day to day living?

KREVER:  I have no life.  I write and my relationships have to fit in with that.

I had no idea what a monk's life writing was until I committed myself to it. It takes everything you have.

RM:  I think it takes a very special person to partner a writer.  There is a general attitude that living with a writer is a tough business.  Would you agree?

KREVER:   Anyone who gets involved with me has to understand some part of me is always humming away in another dimension.  Yes, I think that is hard to accept.

RM:  I know that I become very frustrated trying to live in two worlds- the one in my head and the one where I have kids and bills and laundry. I never feel like I do either very well. Do you have any advice for writers trying to balance life and writing.

KREVER:  I'm no role model. I gave up on life for ten years. I lived for writing and my son every other weekend. Now I'm trying to develop a balance; if I develop any success at it, I'll let you know.

RM:  What do you think the ultimate spouse or significant other would be for a writer?

KREVER:  Just understanding that our madness is our strength. That we can't function without this other world in our heads. If you can deal with that, then it's a normal relationship. But it's understanding that I'm in love with other women that I’ve made up and I am many different men and women all day long. And that my triumphs and failures almost all take place inside.  That's a lot to ask. 

“To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.” -Robert Frost, poet.

“We work to become, not to acquire.”- Elbert Hubbard, author.

 Author Ted Krever and I discuss the business of publishing in part three of our interview

Ted Krever’s books can be found at Amazon.com, at Goodreads.com and  BarnesandNoble.com

For more information about Ted Krever please visit www.tedkrever.com

Summer's over! Back at it!

~ The kids are back in school and the red edged leaves of the sugar maples outside my office window  are hinting at Fall. Alas!  My summer vacation has come to an end.  What better way to get back to the work of writing than with a book review, a little tease and an author interview?  No better way I say! So here we go. Hope you enjoy it.  ~ Rebecca

Mindbenders

 by Ted Krever

They are called Mindbenders - men and women who know your every thought. They  have the power to control your emotions, manipulate your memories, your body and the world around you.  When the possibilities are endless, who will draw the line between what is right and what is unspeakable evil?

Greg is a man who can’t remember, cut off from his memories.   While Greg’s body survived the war in Iraq, his mind remains a fractured tangle of the sights and sounds of past battles and lost comrades.

Max Renn can never forget.  A human weapon and Cold War  leftover, Renn can read minds, move mountains – even plant ideas and emotions into another’s head.  What he cannot do is escape the past- no matter how far or how long he may run. To live in Hell is hearing every thought, feeling every emotion, experiencing every lived moment and memory of every person around you.  Max Renn is a permanent resident.

When Dave Monaghan, caretaker to lost souls and a former director for the US cold war mind control project is murdered, the uneasy peace Gregg and Renn had found in Dave’s Florida everglades safe haven is shattered.  Thrust into a world of international conspiracy and paranormal warfare, Greg and Renn race to gather Dave’s old team of Mindbenders in a fight to stop an insidious evil bent on world domination. 

For Gregg it is about vengeance- vengeance for Dave.  Someone murdered his friend and  that Someone was going to pay.

For Renn it is about answers.  Who had killed Dave Monaghan and why?  Who were these Others, new Mindbenders with inferior abilities and murderous intentions?  And what did an assassination of the Indian Prime minister, a sabotaged nuclear power plant in New York and a disgraced international leader have in common?  The mind control program is back in play and they are coming for Max Renn.

Mindbenders is a fast paced thriller with broad audience appeal.  There is a literary hint to Krever’s writing without the prose being over burdened by heavy word choice and turn of phrase.  I enjoyed the dark and brooding look back to a time passed.  This glimpse into the era  of spies and intrigue and old-fashioned espionage lends a noir overlay to an otherwise  hedonistic, modern thrill ride.  Krever’s fully developed characters seep quietly into your head and set up house, begging you to read on well into the small and quiet hours of the night.   

The rule to telling a good story, like a good lie, is adding a healthy dose of truth and Mindbenders is no exception.  Krever skillfully balances the ingredients to good story telling- a sprinkle of fact, a body of fiction and viola!  A nightmare of believable proportions.  In this age of hidden terror behind everyday faces, Mindbenders promises a fantastic paranormal underbelly to a humdrum existence.  Pick up Krever’s Mindbenders and expand the horizons of the Possible.  After all- the mind is a terrible thing to waste.  If you don’t use it someone else might.

 ~

This past July I attended the International Thriller Writer’s ThrillerFest at the Grand Hyatt in New York City.  The week was packed with brilliant authors, inspiring talks and new friends.  I met author Ted Krever by happenstance, in a small alcove set back from the busy miasma of words, inspiration and networking.  He was kind enough to befriend a girl who had no idea how to mingle.  He has continued that friendship despite my neuroticism and writing temper tantrums. 

Ted has graciously agreed to an interview about his book Mindbenders, a paranormal thriller.  I hope you enjoy the next few posts where Ted and I discuss his novel, the process of writing, living a writer’s life and the fate of the publishing industry. 

(Note- for the purposes of this series of interviews I am RM and the fabulous Ted Krever is KREVER­ - obviously.  (It really is a necessary step in the rock star writing world after all:  to be known by only one name.)

RM:  I have the fantastic opportunity to interview you today - the Ted Krever, author of Mindbenders and my friend.  Wish it was over a bottle of wine or coffee and face to face but I guess we can make this IM thing work.

KREVER:  Go ahead, you start.  You’re Walter Cronkite and I'm Rocky the flying squirrel

RM:  I always loved Rocky.

KREVER:  Me too.  I loved Boris and Natasha—I wonder if that’s where Renn came from?  That’s a weird thought.

RM:  I was just wondering that myself.  Are you mindbending me?

KREVER:  I told you it was real. Seriously. 

RM:  Well, at Thriller Fest, I was standing in the market in Grand Central wishing someone I knew would come and have lunch with me and suddenly there you were- with chocolate!

KREVER:  It was very good chocolate.

RM:  Really good chocolate.  Must be a writer thing.  You have been writing for quite a long time, in one fashion or another.  Can you give us a quick background? 

KREVER:  I grew up in New Jersey, moved around some as an adult. I’ve worked in television and Internet production, including at ABC News, as a prep cook in an Italian restaurant, associate manager of a revival house movie theater, a local newspaper reporter and a mattress salesman. But in writing fiction, all that matters really is a skeptical eye on the world and a way with words. People can get a sense of those things from my website or—better—from the excerpts of the books available on Amazon, BN.com or Smashwords.

RM:  Mindbenders is selling well on Amazon.  You have received positive reviews from the likes of Thomas F. Monteleone and F. Paul Wilson, both NY Times bestsellers.   Readers say they enjoy the fast paced action and developed characters. 

I found myself deeply invested in the story from the very beginning.  The story of Greg, a Iraq war vet living, or trying to live, with PTSD and Renn, a “leftover” from the Cold War era coming together to fight the age old war between what is right and what is easy was both thrilling and frightening.  How did you approach the idea for his novel?

KREVER:  Characters always come first for me. I got a letter from a woman who got the book on a Goodreads giveaway, saying her son had been home from Iraq for ten years and was still struggling with PTSD, that she found the book disturbing but very accurate about that. That meant a lot to me, because I worried more about that aspect of the story than any other. Greg and Max have in some ways very complementary problems. Greg can’t remember his history because of the PTSD and Max has no history, having been raised as a genetic experiment by the KGB. A lot of the book is tied up in the question: how differently would you view people if you really knew what they were thinking?

RM:  The themes of war and a global reach to politics, the idea that so few could effect so many with what seemed like a whim and the fear that accompanies feeling vulnerable and helpless resonate with me both as a child during the Cold War and a parent today.  Do you think that, somewhere in your subconscious, growing up during the Cold War had anything to do with the themes you choose to write about?

KREVER:  Actually, I think this is very much a post-9/11 book. I think one of the interesting things about it is the way the old Cold War lines get jumbled-up. Both Max’s team and the bad guys include members from both sides, people who would have been bitter enemies twenty years ago. If anyone wants to read into that some message about the absurdity of all our conflicts, I won’t object.

RM:  9/11 is something very much on the American mind, especially this week with the tenth anniversary coming up this weekend. 

In Mindbenders, Max Renn and his team posses the ability to read minds and manipulate the world around him using the power of his thoughts—his mind.  Did this novel come from any past experience or fascination with psychic phenomenon?

KREVER:  Not from any particular psychic experience of my own, no.  My son wanted a superhero and I made up a mindreader because I didn’t want a guy in tights.  When he went home to his mom that night, I started thinking, 'this could be interesting if I could find the right angle for it.'  I did a little research and stumbled upon remote viewing, the fact that the US Government funded a mind control program for 18 years.  And then the revelation that the Soviet program began much earlier was more serious and considered much more successful.  Once I stumbled onto that, I had Renn.

RM:  And so Renn was born.

KREVER:  Now this is about ten years ago. Renn first appears as a secondary character in a literary novel I wrote, which is probably one reason my literary novels never sold.

But when I finished that book, instead of patting myself on the back, I found myself thinking, "I've got to give this guy his own story. He's my Sherlock Holmes." And then it took me years to get loose enough to do him justice.

RM:  Let’s talk about your character Greg.  Mindbenders is told in the first person-Greg’s point of view.  While Renn appears as a secondary character early into the book, Renn quickly moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with Greg.  How did that come about?

KREVER:  Renn is certainly the main character. But Greg is a necessity. My first attempts at writing Renn were first person –from inside his head—and that just didn't work. The guy hears every thought for three blocks around all the time. So it was impossible to do him justice. The background noise at any given moment would overwhelm the story.

RM:  You had to tell Max Renn’s story from the outside. 

KREVER:  So Greg was a practical decision. I realized I needed Watson. Watson is the most important guy in the Sherlock Holmes stories because he's the one who asks, "Holmes, how did you deduce the details of his life with such uncanny accuracy?" which gives Sherlock the opportunity to tell us.  But Greg is also to some extent my son, who has a serious case of Asperger’s - and the Vietnam vets who lived across the street and had a hard time focusing on anything for any length of time because part of them was always back in the jungle, hearing whispering in the trees and the guns pounding inside their heads all the time.

RM:  In many ways I saw Greg as a vehicle for other stories. I find it interesting the story is told fromGreg’s point of view when he seems to function as a container, a whiteboard for other people’s emotions and experiences. What did Renn call him?

KREVER:  Greg is a receptor.   He can pick up brainwaves if the frequency is a match.  Renn makes the point that most people can be receptors under the right circumstances

RM:  A receptor, yes. But Greg’s own emotions, his own head is on lock down, at least from himself.

KREVER:  He's locked away from himself, yes. That's the PTSD.  His life is a mystery that he feels, not unnaturally, that he has to try to unlock. But he's forgotten the connecting threads. He remembers details but not how they fit together.

RM:  I don't get the feeling he wants to unlock it, only that he feels he should want to unlock it.

KREVER:  I think, through most of this book, he’s just glad to be functioning. He's been existing on the most basic level for so long that all this tumult is still an improvement.  I think it takes him most of the book to take seriously the thought that you might be able to find yourself. But that thought is the first step to doing it.

Part Two - Author Ted Krever and I discuss the writer’s life.
Part Three - Author Ted Krever and I discuss the changing climate of publishing and independant publishing.

Ted Krever’s books can be found here at Amazon.com, here at Goodreads.com and here at BarnesandNobel.com

For more information about Ted Krever please visit www.tedkrever.com