Making Friends With Your Characters

I live in a house in the mountains, surrounded by forest, in perfect solitude, peace…I can see deer on occasion out my writing window, lots of squirrels, chipmunks and even hummingbirds and blue jays on occasion. Seasons change outside my window world, leaves burst out of barren limbs, only to die and fall away in brilliantly colored glory. In the winter, the naked limbs are heavy with snow, a white forest, one filled with many things…but no friends.

All my close friends live or work in NYC. We communicate mainly by email. I have lived in a small village called Saugerties in upstate New York for five years now. Haven’t made many friends. The only new pals are the people who come to clean the house, mow the lawn, plow out the long driveway. They are kind, decent people, who work so very hard. The wonderful, sunny young lady who cleans the house every three weeks even brought a present the other day, a new shower curtain. Chrissie always hugs me when she arrives and just before leaving. It is my only physical contact with another person. I so look forward to those hugs. The maintenance man, jack-of-all-trades, is there in a pinch. If my car won’t start, he comes out and jumps it. Him I don’t hug. Not the macho thing to do, I guess.

What a strange life this is. After years as a party animal in NY/Hoboken, I rarely go out at night now, eat dinner alone every evening, watch a Netflix movie on my 19-inch high def computer screen, read a book and then go to bed--alone. I can pass whole days without saying a word to anyone. My vocal chords are weaker now, they get no exercise.

All of this is wonderfully conducive to my writing. There are no distractions. The upside is I have found great new friends in my characters. It is an on-going mystery series, four books done, and my little clique of friends appears in each one, they change, grow, achieve things…I look forward after lunch to sitting down to write so I can visit with them. I feel so close to these friends. I miss them when I’m not writing. They love me, I’m sure, but never say so. That’s all right, they know I am always there for them, and vice versa. What would we be without each other? In my case, just a lonely guy, all dressed up with thoughts and feelings, and nowhere to go. In their case, they’d disappear. What a tremendous responsibility it is to keep friends alive!

What I like most about my book friends is they are independent thinkers. They don’t let me control them or dictate the terms of our relationship. My method of writing is to create in-depth characters first, loosely outline a plot and then turn my characters loose. When I end a chapter and don’t know what should come next,  THEY tell me. It is fairly obvious to them what they want to do or need to do in the next chapter. I just tag along. It’s a nice ride, being a passenger.

I also inhabit my characters. When I write dialogue, I become the person who is speaking, then switch and become the other person. Hard to describe, but I am able to speak exactly like each one of them. Most delightfully, I forget that I am Nathan Gottlieb, the Hermit of Saugerties, and become other people who lead fuller, more exciting lives. Cool!

Me and my characters also share a rare intimacy, one in which no one can come between. Yet unlike close friendships in the “real” world, I unabashedly share all their secrets, all their feelings and needs with my readers. My characters don’t seem to mind. Of course, they probably don’t know. They are too busy living in the moment, in their own reality. Only the events in their world matter to them. They don’t know, for example, that my friend Barbara Lazar Selwyn has read all four books, and constantly emails me about the characters, passes judgment on them! Can you imagine? Hers are thoughts I sometimes don’t agree we. We debate the merits and faults of characters. One she thought too naïve. Another whiny. She was wrong in each instance (did she expect me to admit she was right?), but she is entitled to her opinion. I get a kick out of talking with a “real” friend about my characters, whom they must feel are real, too. That is such a rewarding feeling.

The lives of my close friends in the series are an open book (pardon the pun). Put out there for readers to love, hate, sneer at, and if they so choose, belittle their deepest secrets, fears and loves. Needless to say I don’t do this kind of thing with my “real” friends. I would never think of repeating to anyone what one of them has said (breathe a sigh of relief, Barbara). I am loyal and trustworthy to a fault. Is this kind of duality in friendships schizoid? Perhaps. Do I care? No.

A similar relationship with fictional characters is the bond forged between Tobey Maguire and the orphans at St. Clouds in “The Cider House Rules.” Homer shares the thoughts and adventures of characters in the book he is reading out loud to needy orphans, hungry-for-love and thirsty for knowledge. At the end of each session, after reading a few chapters, Homer goes to the door and says, “Goodnight you princes of Maine. You kings of New England.” Then he turns off the lights and closes the door. The orphans cease to exist.

The same thing happens when I shut down my writing for the day, put my friends back in a Word document and return to the “real” world, which sadly right now is not nearly as rich as the ones my friends live in. I do envy them…

New Publishing Paradigm: “Book Trailers” and Social Networking

With the economy still hurting, and marketing budgets for books way down, print publishers are begrudgingly realizing they face a dire challenge in order to avoid becoming dinosaurs. Kindle books outsell paperbacks on Amazon.com, and are on the verge of eclipsing hardback sales. The new tool for selling books is social networking. St. Martin’s Press has even created a position for a Social Networking Media Consultant.

Publishers now expect writers to help sell their books on author’s websites, blogs, Twitter, Facebook and through “book trailers,” which are similar to movie trailers. Many writers are trying all kinds of gimmicks, including book readings at very unconventional places. A New York City author recently sold a lot of books by posting one page at a time on city light poles. I kid you not. The New York Post did a story on it.

Some authors offer $10 gift cards at Amazon.com for people who buy, or pre-order their book. Writers frequently guest blog on other author’s websites, adding a link at the end to help get the word out there about their newest book. In addition to being artists, writers are becoming hustlers, like it or not.

My agent, Dawn Dowdle, at Blue Ridge Literary Agency, insists that all her authors get involved in social networking. Being a very private person, when I signed with Dawn I was resistant at first, but she broke me down. Very demanding lady, but what did you expect of a gal who lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia?

So I started a blog, and actually learned to enjoy it, a break from my novel writing and the strict rules of fiction. Then, cringing, I opened a (gulp) Facebook account – with stunning results. Special friends from my high school senior class came out of the woodwork. I renewed relationships with them via email and phone contact. Hell, I even kindled a little romance with one very amazing Lady of the Desert.

Back then I went to a public school which today would be the equivalent of an elite prep school. My classmates have accomplished great things. I am very moved by renewing friendships with people who have always remained in my heart.

Now about book trailers.

Having written a few screenplays, and seen thousands of movies (I watch up to 300 a year on glorious Netflix. Obviously, living in a small upstate New York town, I have no social life).

I have a strong cinematic sense, which comes out in my fiction. My scenes seem like montage. I set out to create a book trailer, with the help of a friend who operates a boxing website and is an artistic video maker. I scripted a short trailer, using pictures and text. My friend, William Trillo, did an incredible job of translating my script into video, and added awesome music. It’s only a little over a minute. Check it out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ngdu3cFZ5qA

I guess even old dogs like me can learn new tricks.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Navigating Speed Bumps in the Road

I’ve been stuck on a story line for Book 5 in my mystery series, which happens with almost every book I write but it has been  stressing me out.

So I did what I have always done, put aside the new project  and went back to yet another full edit of books 1-4. Mostly just tweaking, making sentences read better, getting a smoother flow and rhythm with the words.

I’m 46 pages into first book, made several good tweaks, only found one typo. Most importantly, at the end of the day I’ve felt like I’ve been productive, which is something I needed.

I know this is neurotic, but when I am stuck on a story line, I feel like a failure, like I have nothing left to say, I’m washed up. Old childhood baggage, stuff for a shrink’s chair. Been there and done that.

The reality is I have known nothing but success with my writing, both fiction and sports writing. That being said, I hate the feeling of having done nothing positive during a day at the computer, although I know very well that the time spent searching for a story line is laying the ground work for a breakthrough and not wasted.

During all the hours I spend staring at the computer screen or out my window at the woods just beyond the backyard, my subconscious is working, ideas I don't yet see are percolating in my brain.

Put a gun to my head and I will admit that I am totally confident a great story line is on its way to me from the Void. It just hasn’t arrived yet, but it’s out there, postmarked by the Grand Master of the Void for Nathan Gottlieb, resident writer, Saugerties, N.Y.

Taking a break worked wonders for my second book, where I was stuck on my story line roughly half way through the outline and thought, oh well, this novel is dead. Then when I went back after a break, I felt refreshed and bingo, ideas came flooding out.

I guess this is the agony and the ecstasy of writing, at least the phase you have control of. A writer’s life is also tormented by forces outside your control, such as the debilitating and often humiliating process of acquiring an agent, which leaves one feeling like a beggar. Then once you have one, and he/she sends your book out to a publisher, you go through another long wait hoping your agent’s query brings a request for a full manuscript to read, which then can take an additional few months of waiting. All the while you are in a sort of writer’s hell, or more accurately purgatory.

I guess you have to be nuts to write a novel. What sane person would do it? Fortunately, I have never been accused of being sane, and being a nuts writer sounds better to me than being a Home Depot clerk who happens to be whacked (I love Home Depot, not disparaging the company, no hate mail please).

Is it me, or are there similarities between writing novels and marriage: there are moments you dread and hate and moments when you are madly in love. Problems arrive, solutions come; y0u want to bail out, and yet fear losing something so important to you. So I guess I am married to my work. In sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part…Hopefully not anytime soon, thank you.