A wonderful week for a book lover . . .

As you may know, this was the week not only for the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, but also for BookExpo America. I attended both, and am very glad that I did.

I share Emily P. W. Murphy's take on the Indie Book Awards. The setting, the people--and the medals--made for a wonderful evening. It was well worth the round-trip bus ride into New York from eastern Pennsylvania to spend time with a roomful of winning authors, editors, publishers, and illustrators. It is a hackneyed saying that a writer's life is a solitary one. It is one reason many of us choose to be part of a writers group. And it is another reason that events, such as this awards ceremony, are so beneficial--giving us a chance to mix with the many talented people brought together for an evening. We exchanged cards, promotional materials, and congratulations, for everyone there had something to celebrate.

The next day, I went to BookExpo for my first-ever visit. After a three-hour drive into the city (rush hour adding at least an hour to the trip), three author friends (Emily P. W. Murphy, Sally Wyman Paradysz, and Ralph Hieb) and I arrived at the Jacob Javits Center in New York--a five-block long building with over 675,000 square feet of exhibit space. I've always been impressed with the architecture by I. M Pei, but until then, I had only seen it from the outside.


Once inside, the BEA folks had a beautifully efficient registration process. BEA issued online registrants a barcode. All we needed to do was print it out and bring it to the convention center, have it scanned, and pick up our nametags. Mine was labeled "Published Author," but I saw many that listed (for BEA) much more important roles in the industry: Librarian, Bookseller, Publisher, Literary Agent, Reviewer, etc. If I had harbored any illusions of importance after the Indie Award ceremony, they were dashed at BEA. While one might argue that without authors, the rest of these folks would be out of a job, the reverse is also true. Any authors who were not signing books to give away were definitely not the stars of this show.

No--the BEA is designed primarily for booksellers to connect with each other, learn about new trends, and discover new titles and services. Don't get me wrong--a lowly published author can still have a blast. I stood in line for autographed books--lots and lots of books. Among the four of us, we filled my trunk with loot!

There was a lot of energy in the room, and people were almost universally friendly. Book people. Gotta love 'em. And as the day went on I learned how to survive BEA.

The hard, convention center floors were covered with a thin carpeting. Since we spent nearly the entire day on our feet, either walking back and forth across the convention center or standing in line, my feet soon felt desperately in need of better shoes. And I'd worn my most comfortable walking shoes. Some exhibitors, such as the Spanish Language books area, had brought in very plush carpeting. It was wonderful to have the extra cushioning as the day went on, so even though I cannot read Spanish, I seemed to find many opportunities to walk slowly through that area.

Many places were clearly expecting to handle substantial orders from bookstore owners and librarians. They had set up tables and chairs for salespeople to help buyers pour through their catalogs. But, if there were no buyers around an empty table, even a published author was allowed to rest for a few moments. The kind salespeople even apologized when evicting us to make a sale.

Some exhibitors offered lunch in their sales areas--but only for book buyers. I couldn't blame them. There were other areas in the Expo where one could find food. But the day was hot and, despite air conditioning, the Expo floor was humid. So, I learned that the best place to go for refreshment was the lemon ice stand. (I hope they have it every year.)

There was a large corner of the exhibit floor dedicated to book signings. They set up half-hour or one-hour time slots for authors to sign free books for attendees. I was glad I'd done my homework, deciding which books I most wanted, before going to BEA. For the most popular authors (e.g. Sarah, Duchess of York, Jan Brett, Gary Trudeau, and many others) you needed to go very early and stand in line to get a ticket to be allowed to stand in line later for an autograph. It's Darwinian. And, living in Pennsylvania, I did not get there in time to get one of those coveted tickets. No matter. There were lots of interesting authors for whom no ticket was required.

During book signings, most authors took their time with each person, chatting, and making them feel special as they personalized each book. But the lines for autographs could be very long, and the time allotted for book signings was limited. If you didn't get to the line early enough, they could run out of books--or out of time--before you got to the author's table. So, I learned to prioritize. I chose the authors that were most important to me, and got in their lines first. If the line moved swiftly, I might still be able to get another book signed during the same period from an author with a shorter line. And even if the lines were too long, as for James Patterson and Rick Springfield, I had the pleasure of seeing them signing books.

I was especially happy to get books signed by Scott Turow, Len Berman, and the two Ghost Hunters: Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson. Scott Turow and I talked about how many of us lawyers have gone into other pursuits while he signed my copy of Innocent. I told the Ghost Hunters they made me wish I had a haunted house just so I could call them in. (Grant said he did, too!) I asked Len Berman how many of my beloved Red Sox made it into his book, The Twenty-Five Greatest Baseball Players of All Time, due out in September. He said two: Cy Young and Ted Williams. (I reminded him that we could also claim the Babe!)

It was great fun, but as you accumulate those books, you need someplace to carry them. (No wonder you get more tired as the day goes on!) I found a backpack to be very useful, since the show rules forbade rolling suitcases. The old back started to ache, and it was a bit warm, but it was a very efficient way to get through the show. I didn't need to bring any canvas bags--although I had. Vendors gave them out all over the floor, in addition to the BEA bags available at the door.

While standing in line--which takes up about half your time at BEA--it was fun to talk to the others in line with me.  I was glad I carried the promotional materials for my most recent book--and my business card. You never knew who might be standing next to you.

I came home exhausted, but looking forward to going to BEA again. Perhaps one day I'll be signing books as well--who knows? Maybe I'll see you there!

Don't Go Into the Garage!

Okay--our garage never looked like the ones you see on TV--neatly arranged tools that hang over a tidy workbench, a pristine floor, onto which no oil has ever dripped, swept clean of all dust. Nope. Our garage is full of stuff--some ours, some others'. We have the usual bicycles, lawn mowers, snow blowers, and garden tools, but we also have hundreds of pounds of birdseed, deer food, discarded furniture from various dorm rooms, an old refrigerator now dedicated to holding soda, and unopened boxes from my mother's last move, our kids' last moves, and probably other people's moves, too. Can't be sure.

But it's not all the "stuff" that is keeping us out of the garage. We have a squatter living in there!

Shocking, I know. But we've had squatters before. For a while there were wild cats that we (blush) fed and almost tamed before some neighbor called animal control to capture them. We have had a few squirrels and raccoons come in looking for birdseed. We even had a coyote take shelter there once. (Since then we have been more careful about keeping the garage door closed.)

But apparently we have not been careful enough. This spring our squatter got in somehow anyway, and she--yes, it's a female--isn't about to leave. And if we try to go into the garage, she will attack!

We could probably take her, but we're concerned about her offspring. They are very young and undoubtedly impressionable, and clearly still in need of their mother. And it's not really their fault that they are trespassing.

Our squatter, you see, is a bird of undetermined species, and her offspring are three tiny chicks. The nest is on a shelf at the top of our tool rack--right by the inside door of our garage. She flew into the garage and spent many days there earlier this spring. I guess she liked it. And why not? It's where we keep our birdseed. When it came time to build her nest, she built it there--despite our efforts to keep the outer garage door closed to wildlife.

Now we keep the outer door open all the time--day in and day out--for the bird to come and go at will. We have adapted, though. We now use the front door instead of going through the garage to get into the house. We now store soda in the kitchen. But if one of our kids needs something they remember using in their last dorm room--well, they had better wear a helmet. That garage is bird country!

The mama bird is not always on her nest, though. Once, while she was out foraging, we were able to get this photo of three baby bird bottoms. They're so tiny! We, and our indoor cats, enjoy hearing their cute, birdy chirps from the other side of the door. But mama has made it clear--beyond that point it is strictly DO NOT DISTURB!

I just hope the raccoons and the coyote are smart enough to leave them alone.

Next Generation Indie Book Award Winner!

Hooray! We found out this week that the Bethlehem Writers Group's collection of Christmas stories, A Christmas Sampler: Sweet, Funny, and Strange Holiday Tales, has won First Place awards in TWO categories in the 2010 Next Generation Indie Book Awards: for Short Story - Fiction and Anthology.

I remember when we first considered the possibility of publishing a collection of our short stories. We decided to make them Christmas stories because of our location in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, known to locals as "Christmas City." It took many months of hard work by many members of the group, and was well received throughout the past holiday season. And now, in addition to our two Indie Book Awards, we also won Honorable Mention in the 2010 DIY Book Awards.

Our book is an eclectic collection of twenty-three short stories--something for every taste. It is available in hardcover, paperback, or kindle versions through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and our online bookstore. It makes a great gift!

Happy reading--and gifting--everyone! And congratulations to the Bethlehem Writers Group!

Back row: Emily P. W. Murphy, Paul Weidknecht, Will Wright, Cindy Kelly, Ralph Hieb, Carol L. Wright, Courtney Annicchiarico

Front row: Jeff Baird, Carol A. Hanzl Birkas, Jo Ann Schaffer, Sally Wyman Paradysz

Not pictured: Jerome W. McFadden, Headley Hauser, and Stanley W. McFarland

When is an Eleven Year Old an Adult?

Jordan Brown, an eleven-year-old boy, got up one morning, had his breakfast, picked up the shotgun his father gave him for Christmas, and shot his sleeping, pregnant, soon-to-be step-mother in the back of the head, killing her and her unborn child.

Then the boy and the woman's seven-year-old daughter boarded a school bus together. The girl asked Jordan what the loud noise had been. He told her it was nothing.

It sounds almost incredible, but prosecutors in Lawrence County, Pennsylvania, believe it happened in the death of Kenzie Marie Houk.

At school that day, no one noticed Jordan Brown exhibiting any unusual behavior. He was arrested later in the day, but has maintained the he didn't do it. It makes one shiver to think that a child could be guilty of such a cold-blooded act of violence. But his cool demeanor could, of course, simply be because he is innocent.

Whether Jordan Brown is guilty of premeditated murder is something that the courts will determine. But what has already been decided is that this pre-teen will be tried as an adult.

As an eleven year old, Jordan could have been tried as a juvenile. If he was found to have been the one who killed Houk, he would be found "delinquent," not "guilty" as is the case in adult court. He would be sent to a juvenile facility whose goal would be to rehabilitate him rather than to punish him. He could be held no longer than his twenty-first birthday, when he would be released, whether he was rehabilitated or not.

Pennsylvania law allows an offender as young as age ten to be charged as an adult if the circumstances of the crime warrant. In this case, the prosecutor believed he had no choice but to request that the court charge Jordan as an adult. The act, according to the prosecutor, was premeditated. Jordan allegedly brought his youth-sized shotgun down from his upstairs bedroom that morning. When the seven-year-old noticed it, he went back upstairs and concealed it under a blue blanket when he returned downstairs. A blue blanket with a shotgun hole in it was found near the body in a downstairs bedroom. If true, this behavior would meet any standard for premeditation.

Jordan's father has argued passionately that his son is not guilty, and should be tried as a juvenile, allowing the father to secure his release on bond. The judge, however, agreed with the prosecution. Jordan Brown, now twelve, will stand trial as an adult.

As a result of this ruling, Jordan Brown can be held in the county jail with adult offenders until his trial. If he is found guilty of first-degree murder, he would be sent to an adult prison with more adult offenders where he would spend the rest of his life without possibility of parole. He could not, however, be sentenced to death. While Pennsylvania does provide for the death penalty in such cases, the United States Supreme Court has ruled that execution of offenders under the age of sixteen constitutes cruel and unusual punishment, a violation of the U.S. Constitution's Eighth Amendment.

The prosecutor argued that staying in a juvenile facility until he was twenty-one would not provide sufficient time to rehabilitate Jordan Brown. Some other observers say Jordan is just plain evil, suggesting he is a sociopath for whom there is no hope. His father says he is an "all-American boy" who is innocent and does not understand what is happening to him.

What troubles many about such cases is that children the age of Jordan Brown might not, and some would say cannot, have the intellectual and emotional maturity to understand the consequences of their actions. They do not yet comprehend death, and so cannot comprehend the gravity of shooting someone in the head.

I remember a story that made the news several years ago about two young brothers, about twelve and fourteen years old if memory serves, who were hunting together. Each had a shotgun, and they were walking single file through the woods, with the elder brother in the lead. As they trudged along, the younger boy decided it would be funny to shoot the hat off his brother's head, as he had seen in cartoons on television. Not surprisingly, the older brother died instantly. There was no evil intent in that case. Clearly this was a child exercising childish judgment without understanding the probability of lethal consequences of his actions. But I wonder if he would ever be able to forgive himself.

Could Jordan fully comprehend how serious his actions were, or did he think shooting Houk was somehow an acceptable expression of anger? Could he appreciate how permanent death is, let alone how horrific?

When is an eleven year old an adult?

What do you think? Should the punishment fit the crime or the criminal?

What do you read? What do you write?

A friend recently asked me the question, "What do you read?" It's not all that unusual a question among bibliophiles, but it got me thinking.

I read a lot of nonfiction, and always have, in a variety of subject matters. I am intrigued by learning more about areas in which I know little, and reading other authors' takes on subjects I know well. My favorite subjects are history, politics, current affairs, and law, with some memoir thrown in.

For fiction, my favorite authors come from varied literary traditions and genres.

Number one on my list has to be Jane Austen. I love rereading her novels, watching the televised versions of her stories, and sharing commentary on both with other "Janeites." I enjoysome of the many spin-off, Austen-esque novels available from modern writers. I recently became a lifetime member of the Jane Austen Society of North America (JASNA), and love the chance to be among others who feel the same way.

And, since we're talking about the classics, Charles Dickens has to be a very close second. There's a reason every school child still reads his work--or should.

I enjoy literary fiction, but confess that I most often choose to read popular fiction.

Who can argue with the success of J.K. Rowling? Her Harry Potter books are entertaining, and, for the most part, an excellent example of what fiction writing should be: a sympathetic, damaged, protagonist in conflict with an antagonist of equal or greater strength, surrounded by an assemblage of memorable characters, and a story that grabs and holds the reader's attention.

Jasper Fforde is an author I might have overlooked but for a friend. Based on his recommendation alone, I purchased two books by Fforde before reading anything he had written. That is a remarkable leap of faith for me, but one worth taking as he has become one of my favorites. (The Eyre Affair is the one to start with.)

I am on my third Connie Willis book in a row. After reading The Doomsday Book, I moved on to To Say Nothing of the Dog, and now to Lincoln's Dreams. From there I'll go to Bellwether.

Jan Karon's characters and small-town settings keep me coming back. And, although not shelved in fiction, James Herriot's tales of the connection between humans and their animals are old favorites.

I have always enjoyed mysteries, since my first Nancy Drew, in part because I want to puzzle them out before the protagonist does. I will read at least one book in any cozy mystery series I can find--as much for research as for pleasure.

Looking at the list above, it seems I prefer classics, sci-fi/fantasy, and mystery. I would never have described myself as a sci-fi/fantasy reader. I don't think of myself that way, but Rowling, Willis, and Fforde wouldn't make the list if I weren't.

They say you should write what you read, yet I do not try to write fantasy. I do not consider myself well versed enough in the genre to consider dabbling in it. I write mystery, and hope that others will try to puzzle them out before the protagonist does--but fail!

How about you? What do you read? And what do you write?

To E-Book, or Not to E-Book

I am a book lover, as are most of my friends. Like them, I like the feel of a book in my hand, the scent of the paper, the touch of the page. I like being able to flip back and forth in a book, rereading a passage, checking a fact, and somehow knowing where on the page I first read it.

You can't get quite the same experience from an e-book. In fact, many book lovers believe that reading an e-book is a sort of sacrilege. I understand that. Really, I do. But . . .

I make no apologies. I own a Kindle. In fact, we are now a four-Kindle family--and we love them.

Since our house already has bookshelves lining nearly every wall, and each bookcase is stuffed with books that overflow into stacks on the floor, by the bed, on top of the desk, and on every table or other flat surface, the idea of getting a book without having to store it somewhere is pretty attractive. It is especially wonderful as an option for those books I know I will only read once. You know the kind. They are the ones that you gobble up like potato chips, but do not need to preserve for posterity--or even pass along to a friend.

And the Kindle is wonderfully portable. I took it with me to the doctor's office yesterday, and it helped me pass the time (over an hour and a half altogether) spent waiting to see someone. Normally, I would bring a book, but with an hour and a half, what if I had finished the book, and all that was available to me were old copies of People magazine? With the Kindle, I carried many books with me, and could get more almost immediately if needed.

Best of all from my husband's perspective, when I read the Kindle in bed, the book light doesn't flash in his eyes, nor does the paper rustle, every time I turn a page. And the cat cannot pull the bookmark out of place. It's not that I have abandoned purchasing traditionally-published books, but I am happy to be among those reading e-books as well.

Yet, it seems everywhere I look these days, people are writing about the end of publishing as we know it. According to the apocalyptic predictions, because of e-publishing the traditional model is dead. Soon, no books will appear in hard copy, bookstores will close, publishers will no longer offer advances to authors, and, worst of all, unknown authors will never get a contract to have a book published.

It sounds a bit hysterical when one considers that e-books currently make up about 3% of the book market. For a few years there weren't many e-book readers out there, but in the past six months both the Barnes and Noble Nook and the Apple iPad have come out, making it likely that the number of e-book buyers will increase. Publishers Lunch, a daily email newsletter, has devoted several columns to this question. In one, it noted that "Stephen King sees 40% of fiction and 25% of non-fiction sales as e-books," by 2019. [December 28, 2009] Still, does that mean that the publishing world is coming to an end?

If you have been following the juggling for position among publishers and sellers of e-books over the past few months, you know that the industry is having a hard time adjusting to its new pressures and opportunities. The price of e-books, discounts to sellers, the agency model, and author royalties are all a concern to agents, authors, and consumers as well.

Perhaps the book industry should read the book Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson. It offers perspective on adapting to change in work and in life.

Ironically, it's not available as an e-book.

My Novel Is Great!

Great news!

I went to my writers group on Tuesday evening to hear their feedback on my work in progress. Guess what! They LOVED it. They said it was the BEST THING THEY HAD EVER READ. They extolled it as READY FOR PUBLICATION!

Then I sent my agent a copy, and she was THRILLED! She said I could expect a SIX-FIGURE ADVANCE, and that it was certain to hit the NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER LIST and receive a PULITZER PRIZE!

April Fools!

When did you catch on? Was it the advance or the Pulitzer that gave me away?

While the second paragraph above is pure fantasy, the first paragraph is a flat-out lie! But what good would my writers group be to me if they had given me that kind of review? As all authors know--no manuscript is EVER perfect. What the group did, though, was give me some helpful comments on pacing, characterization, and description. For that I thank them.

There is more hard work ahead, but it is work I love. I am happy to go back to my novel and make it better, because the thing they did NOT do is tell me it was irretrievably bad. I also thank them for that.

And that's no April Fools!