You can’t judge a book…

Annamaria on Monday

Here are the beginning lyrics to old R&B song:

You can't judge an apple by looking at the tree,

You can't judge honey by looking at the bee,

You can't judge a sister by looking at the brother,

You can't judge a book by looking at the cover.

Oh can't you see, oh, you misjudged me.

I look like a farmer but I'm a lover,

You can't judge a book by looking at the cover.

Caro’s post last week about strange titles made me think about how, a few times, my publishers changed the titles of my books.  Most of the time, they turned out to be right.  But there have been a couple of instances when the publisher tried to get me to change the title and I refused:  Notably for my best selling book every—Never Work for a Jerk.  They wanted me to call it HOW to Work for a Jerk, because they thought that a more positive spin might be more appealing.  I debated the point.  And I won.

On the other hand, I have almost never won a battle about a cover.  Almost. 

Generally, publishers, not writers, get to choose the cover art.  Sometimes we are happy, sometimes not. Except for folks like James Patterson and Mary Higgins Clark, authors have little, if anything, to say about book cover design.

This rule is not confined to fiction. My nonfiction went through similar choices. Never Work for a Jerk started with a jackass in a business suit, a splendid choice in my estimation.

But the paperback publisher thought the design too staid. They came up with something much more lively.  I doubt Dell was right about that, because when Barnes and Noble acquired the rights for their own edition, they went back to the jackass cover.

The foreign rights publishers had their own ideas.

         

Only once did I try to influence what a nonfiction book looked like. Both my agent and I tried our very best to put the kibosh on the cover for Monster Boss. Except for the fake tear, it looks to me like the cover of procedures manual on water heater repair.  But the publisher would not budge.  Would this catch your eye?

 

When it came to my novels, I was thrilled when saw the original cover for City of Silver. I had dreamed what it might be many times. During the long years of looking for an agent for the book and then waiting while it worked its way through the publication process, I imagined what the published book would look like. I had, in my mind's eye, the cover of a favorite history used in my research.  When my editor asked me for cover ideas, I sent this image of the whole dust jacket, including the spine and the back cover:

The final design for the novel surpassed all my expectations. It was totally beautiful to me, perhaps because it was my first novel. But it really is a lovely physical specimen of a book. (By the way, its interior is also a knockout. The front pages and the chapter beginnings are all designed to look like a seventeenth century book. What a gorgeous touch!)

Then, when Felony and Mayhem Press acquired the paperback rights, Maggie Topkis, the publisher, thought the original cover too staid for what she considered a lively story. She decided to replace it with a cover she thought did the story justice.

When I first saw the new design, it was so different from its predecessor, I was nonplussed. But everyone I asked liked it a lot.  And I knew that Maggie had had twenty years experience as a bookseller, which meant she had watched what readers reached for.   Sometimes the most aesthetically pleasing is not the most alluring to potential book buyers.

 

Invisible Country’s cover is a knockout.  It never made it into a paperback edition, so here is the only cover it’s ever had.

With Blood Tango, I had a fright on my hands.  The originally cover artist never completed the job.  His replacement came up with this:

It looked to me like a cheesy romance cover.  It said nothing about it being a historical novel, nothing about the darkness of the mystery or the glamor of the historic character who is central to the story—Evita.   I put my foot down.   In the end, they sent me a different cover, with a historic picture of Buenos Aires.  I showed it to my daughter.  She liked the photo but said the cover needed a woman on it.  She was so right.  I asked them to insert a blonde woman in the picture and to give her a red dress.  They did. 

 Then came the African series.  Africa is the MOST photogenic place on earth.  Have you ever noticed how travel companies that deal worldwide always have images of Africa on their promotional materials.  What’s on the walls of photographic equipment stores world wide?  Africa!  An alluring cover was a foregone conclusion. 

I loved the original cover of Strange Gods.

But once again, I am thrilled to say, Felony and Mayhem acquired the paperback rights, and Maggie went for a more striking cover image.

She also created great fanfare for the paperback’s launch last weekend at Left Coast Crime, including a Strange Gods t-shirt and making the Strange God the official cocktail of convention.  Needless to say, I was thrilled about that!

And now we are aiming to launch the second in the series, The Idol of Mombasa at Bouchercon in New Orleans in September.

This post is a whole lot of shameless self-promotion.  MIE’s rules allow us one such entry each year.  I forewent my turn at SSP in 2015 because I had no new book last year.  I collected on that rain check today.   I will have more to say about The Idol closer to the launch date.  

The Giant Buddha & the Holy Fool

--Susan, every other Sunday

Japanese stories often contain a “foolish wise man”—often a monk—who seems to be crazy but now and then reveals a nugget of wisdom. The archetype is important to Zen practitioners, because within Zen practice, the “holy fool” has supposedly discovered the keys to releasing himself (or herself, though the character is most commonly portrayed as male) from ego, desire, and attachment to the world – an important principle of Zen.

I included a “holy fool” in my mysteries, both to parallel Japanese stories and because I like reading stories with characters who are difficult to fathom. A holy fool is a living koan-- Is he truly foolish? Or is he wise, making the person who judges him as worthless the bigger fool?

My own fictitious fool is Suke, a somewhat silly, freeloading monk who hangs around a Kyoto brewery, offering blessings to anyone kind enough to buy him a drink (and a thousand blessings for a flask…). His balding head, toothless grin, and joyful spirit have made him one of my favorite characters to write.

During last summer's research trip to Japan, I had the chance to observe another form of holy foolery--people attempting to make the traditional passage "through the Buddha’s Nostril" at Todai-ji. 

The Great Buddha Hall, Todaiji

Todai-ji is a Buddhist temple in Nara, Japan, which houses the world’s largest bronze statue of the Buddha Vairocana—in Japanese, “Daibutsu.” The statue is 49 feet tall and weighs over 500 tons.

Daibutsu

 One of the massive supporting pillars inside the enormous shrine that houses the Buddha has a hole the size of the Buddha’s nostril carved in the bottom. The hole is roughly square and measures 18" in diameter. (Not a forgiving size if you're larger than a child.)

Not a nostril. The line was too long to photograph it without a human in it.

Legend and tradition say that anyone who can pass through the Buddha’s nostril will have a long and prosperous life and find enlightenment. People line up for the chance to attempt the feat. (I have no photos of the line because, in Japan, it's rude to take photos of strangers without asking permission.)

For obvious reasons, most of the people who manage the passage are under five feet tall, and very slender. The day we went to Todaiji, a businessman got stuck in the "nostril" and had to be extracted by his friends, with the help of the temple guards.

I took one look at the tiny hole and elected to bypass enlightenment in favor of dignity. I’m willing to play the fool at times, but I’d rather not be remembered as the somewhat-heavyset foreign lady who got herself wedged up a Buddha's nostril. 

However, my son—who had spent the previous three months on a study abroad program in Kyoto—opted to take the challenge.

It really is a TINY hole.

 He prevailed…and received a loud standing ovation from the dozens of onlookers crowded around to watch the 6’2” American try to wiggle through the Buddha’s nose.

My son...apparently, more flexible than I.

I thought he was foolish to try...but his success points out that sometimes, that holy fool knows what he's up to after all.

Guest Blogger BARRY LANCET: In San Francisco in the Footsteps of Hunter S. Thompson

I know first hand from my recent Left Coast Crime experience that Tokyo-based Barry Lancet is the best navigator a driver can hope for on Phoenix streets.  In this piece, Barry takes that skill to the City by the Bay.  For those of you who don’t know Barry’s work, you’re in for a treat.  He’s the Barry Award Winning and Shamus Award nominated author of the Jim Brodie international mystery-thriller series. California born, Barry’s more than two decades in Tokyo, much as an editor at one of the country’s largest publishing houses, gave him insider access to places most Japanese never see, allowing him to bring true authenticity to his novels, Japantown, Tokyo Kill, and the latest, Pacific Burn. http://barrylancet.com 

Jeff—Saturday

These days it seems my vacations are often dictated by what locations might appear in my next book.  That means I hit the Japan trail, sometimes San Francisco, and then the additional new places that might be scene-worthy. 

But there are times when it works the other way around.  I go someplace and the location sticks in my mind and later shows up in a book quite by accident.  This happened when I finally made it out to Miami to fulfill an age-old promise to visit friend and author/translator William Scott Wilson (The Lone Samurai, Hagekure, Tao Te Ching). It was my first visit to Florida and by the end of the trip I thought, I could use this place in a book.  And I did.  Miami and some of its locales found their way into Tokyo Kill, alongside Tokyo, Yokohama, China, and Barbados. 

This summer I found a third way—when an old friend I was traveling with suggested a place he always wanted to visit: the Seal Rock Inn because “that’s where Hunter S. Thompson hung out.”  More accurately, it’s the place Thompson holed up in to write “Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail.”  With guns, drugs, and who knows what else. 

The inn is a rustic lodge on the edge of San Francisco, only a few hundred yards from where the city meets the Pacific Ocean.  It is still owned by the same family.  The Cliff House is a half a block away.  Here’s Thompson:

"Dawn is coming up in San Francisco now: 6:09 a.m. at the Seal Rock Inn. ... Out here at the far end of Geary Street: this is the end of the line, for buses and everything else, the western edge of America." 

From the window, even today guests can catch a sliver of the ocean.  The trees lining 48^th Avenue across the way have grown tall and spread since Thompson’s residence forty-plus years ago, cutting off much of the view.  The buses are still there, lined up right outside “his” window, ready to take morning commuters into the city center.  When the large diesel engines were fired up and left idling too long, as was the habit in those days, it’s not too hard to imagine Thompson sticking a shotgun out the window and telling them to cut the noise and the fumes or else.  Bus engines have been improved, and environmental concerns have changed the way public vehicles are operated, but some things remain the same.  The fog still rolls in thick as a blanket and the winds can be relentless, even when the sun shines. 

That’s where we stayed during my latest scouting trip through SF for book locations, two doors down from the room.  Reports have it that Thompson didn’t come out for days but had everything brought in—food, drink, drugs, and any friends wanting to party. 

During the trip I confirmed details for my new book (Pacific Burn) and scouted locations for the as-yet untitled book 4 in the Jim Brodie series.  Will the Seal Rock Inn find its way into a future story?  Not in number 4, but maybe one day.  Who knows?  Either way, the visit was memorable. 

Barry for Jeff

What's in a name?

Or what's in a title?

I have always wanted to write a book called ‘Tap dancing my way to social ridicule’. I think it could be my autobiography. For those of us who have thought long and hard over titles you might like to consider entering a competition for The Diagram Prize, an award for the oddest title of a published novel. 

At some point in the bar at the Frankfurt Bookfair in 1978 Bruce Robertson must have been in that post Prosecco haze and thought 'wouldn’t it be good to have an award for the most odd book title ever seen?' Fortunately for us, he voiced that opinion out loud and the Diagram Prize was born. The inaugural winner was called ‘Proceedings of the second international workshop on nude mice’.

Nude mice? I wonder if there was a workshop for the international best dressed mouse would it be wearing moleskin?

The diagram prize is now run by The Bookseller magazine and the winner receives no money but is rumoured to win a ‘passable bottle of claret’.

                                               

In 2015 the winner was a book called ‘Strangers have the best candy’ by Margaret Meps Schulte. It’s a nice little book written by a lady who travels everywhere on her own and makes a point of having very long conversations with every stranger she meets. I think she used to travel with me on the number 12 bus from Peckham to Trafalgar Square.

It won over a book called ‘Nature’s nether regions’ (which I think is a history of genitalia) by Menno Schilthuizen. I think he used to sit beside me on the bus as well. Alongside that was the much more sensibly titled ‘Where do camels belong’ by Ken Thompson. I do wonder whether the author got the hump when he didn’t win. 

I have been doddering round the internet and here are some beauties from previous years:

‘The mad woman in the Volvo: my year of raging hormones’ by Sandra Tsing-Loh. This was a memoir of a menopausal woman. Just how brave was the guy who phoned her to tell her that she had not won.

‘Divorcing a real witch: for pagans and the people that used to love them’. Well I guess that some of us must fall in love with pagans and probably fall out of love with them again.

                                

The Bookseller magazine's Tom Tivnan is relieved that this year the titles have moved towards engaging and odd rather than smutty and odd. Historical winners do sound like books that would feature in Carry On films.  ‘How to poo on a date’,’Cooking with poo’ and ‘If you want closure in a relationship start with your legs’.

                                      

Some titles are odd but interesting, such as ‘The ugly wife is treasured at home’ by Melissa Margaret Schneider which is an expose of love and sex under Maoist rule in China. I think I'd read that.

One I might struggle with is a book edited by Bo Tian;  ‘Advanced pavement research: selected, peer reviewed papers from the third international conference on concrete pavement design construction and rehabilitation’. 

                                  

The 2014 winner was called ‘Goblinproofing’, but I think the real title is ‘Goblinproofing the henhouse.’ It got 39% of the online vote. It is written by Reginald Bakeley and it gives you practical advice on how to banish fairies from your home. Horace Bent said that Goblinproofing the Chicken coup was ‘an extremely important work regarding the best way to protect one’s fowl from the fairy realms most bothersome creatures. Everyone knows well the hazards that dogs, cats and foxes hold for the owners of chickens, not to mention red mite. But the public has recognised the need to illuminate this hitherto under reported nuisance. I take this as a clear sign that people have had enough of goblins in their chicken coups our campaign against the fairy kingdom continues’.

                                    

Other titles shortlisted were ‘How to sharpen pencils’, ‘Was Hitler ill?’ and ‘The lofts of North America; pigeon lofts’. 

Previous winners include ‘Greek rural postmen and their cancellation numbers’, ‘Highlights in the history of concrete’ (just how short was that book????) and ‘How to bomb proof your horse’. 

I did find a wonderful headline while researching this; ‘Managing a dental practice the Ghengis Khan way’ by Michael Young. The mind boggles.

A previous winner of the prize saw the sales sore by 1500% within a month of winning. So if you haven’t read ‘Crocheting adventures with hyperbolic planes’, then think what you are missing out on. 

I rather fancy the title ‘What colour is your dog?’ or ‘The Italians one night love child’, what about ‘The myth of the social volcano’, or ‘The generosity of the dead’.

                                         

For sheer tittersome amusement a previous winner has the title ‘The big book of lesbian horse stories’ and my own personal favourite ‘Living with crazy buttocks’. The year the Goblinproofing won it beat ‘How tea cosies changed the world’ and a book called ‘Gods doodle: the life and times of the penis’.

The founder of the award does make a serious point. Books such as ‘A short history of tractors in the Ukraine’, ‘The Guernsey literary and potato pie society’ and of course ‘The curious incident of the dog in the night time’ all owe part of their success to their odd titles.

                          

 What about a book called ‘Too naked for the Nazi’s’ by Alan Stafford which is a biography of a music hall troupe, ‘Soviet bus stops' and 'Reading from behind: a culture history of the anus’. 

‘Reading the liver: papyrological texts on Ancient Greek Extispicy’ by William Furley and Victor Gysembergh is an academic study on sacrificial sheep. How about ‘Paper folding with children’ by Alice Hornecke which is origami for children not using children.

                                

I am keeping the best till last though. Horace Bent says this book title is not only a trenchant examination of a cult film but would be an excellent theme for a fancy dress party. The book title is ‘Transvestite vampire biker nuns from outer space’.

I need to go now and Goblinproof my henhouse!

Caro  04/03/2016

The View from Afar

Michael - Thursday

Sometimes my friends ask me why I follow US politics. After all, I live in South Africa and most Americans don’t follow US politics. Well, I’ve spent quite a bit of time in the US one way and another and, when all is said and done, US politics matter to everyone. A change of government philosophy in Zimbabwe – or South Africa for that matter – will hardly cause a ripple on the surface of world affairs. But if the US casts a pebble into the water, it may cause choppy waves all over the place.  Mind you, it’s not always clear that one can predict the way presidents will behave. George W Bush was not one of my favorite leaders, yet he did a lot for Africa. He had a serious interest in the continent, and directed a lot of aid and support for medical and other purposes this way.  Maybe not all of it was well used, but it made a significant impact. On the other hand, Barrack Obama – still rumored by some people to have been born on this continent! – has been much less forthcoming. His interests lie elsewhere – perhaps mainly in the thankless task of trying to understand and coexist with the Muslim word.

So with Super Tuesday just behind us, it seems reasonable to speculate about the path ahead. Hillary has trounced Bernie outside his home turf; in the end his appeal doesn’t really seem to have extended beyond his white liberal base. The denunciation of the evils of Wall Street – however real - tends to pall after the fiftieth rally. Is there really such a big disagreement between the candidates on that?  It’s a bit like Jeremy Corbyn saying he’s “not on the same side of the argument” as David Cameron (about whether the UK should stay in or withdraw from the European Community). Cameron thinks the UK should stay in. On the other hand, Corbyn thinks…the UK should stay in.

Actually Bernie did better than I would have guessed picking up Minnesota, Oklahoma and Colorado by small margins as well as sweeping Vermont. But he lost badly in the South.  So Hillary will be leading the Democratic Party into the fray in November, carrying with her a lot of baggage, but not all of it bad. People know who she is. She’s not perfect, but she’s paid her dues.

As for the Donald, well, Cruz (Texas) and Rubio (Minnesota again) gave him a run for his money. And I do mean HIS money. He doesn't go for the PACs either. (As has been pointed out, he and Bernie have several things in common.) Of course, just where his money came from in the first place is another question. But by the time the establishment candidates realized that he and Cruz weren’t jokes, but serious contenders – in fact the front runners – it was all too late. Donald was smiling from sea to shining sea. Not that there’s really much to choose between the Republican candidates anyway as far as I can see. Paul Krugman summed it up beautifully in the New York Times. Writing off Ted Cruz, he compared the remaining two serious Republican candidates in last week's Op Ed piece Cranks on Top. It started:

The thing is, one of the two men who may still have a good chance of becoming the Republican nominee is a scary character. His notions on foreign policy seem to boil down to the belief that America can bully everyone into doing its bidding, and that engaging in diplomacy is a sign of weakness. His ideas on domestic policy are deeply ignorant and irresponsible, and would be disastrous if put into effect.

The other man, of course, has very peculiar hair.

You can read the full piece HERE. 

So what of the view from abroad? How will President Trump or President Clinton play out? I would say from the bit I’ve read that almost universally the rest of the world would prefer President Clinton. She’s been Secretary of State and she comes across as interested in other countries even if she hasn’t been able to make much diplomatic progress. (Who did?) Mostly, she’s pretty predictable. One knows what one’s getting and gets what one knows. 

The Donald is unpredictable. Will he really build a wall with Mexico? He says the length is negotiable – to a few feet - but the wall is a given. Does he really expect Mexico to pay for it? Or what? He’ll invade Mexico? As for China, they are manipulating currencies and have invented global warming to try to destroy American industries.  He does feel he can work with Russia on ISIS. Well, Putin has a thing or two in common with him. Maybe they can do business. Certainly there seems more than a touch of narcissism in the Russian leader too. Listen to what the Donald says. Maybe he doesn’t mean that stuff, but maybe he does. Because the stuff he says is ridiculous and impossible doesn't imply that he doesn't believe it.

One thing seems absolutely clear. The run of the mill politician has lost the confidence of people everywhere. For that reason alone, Hilary will have a run for her PACs' money. 

Césars - le French Oscars

The Friday before the Hollywood Oscars, the French film industry celebrates their equivalent at Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris. The creme de la creme of French showbiz gathered for the 41st Cesars just two days ahead of its Hollywood equivalent, the Oscars, which had been panned as "too white". Florence Foresti, a comedian, hosted. She's Billy Crystal, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler all in one very Parisian package.

The best picture accolade went to "Fatima", a movie about an immigrant Moroccan woman struggling to raise her two teenagers in France and working as a cleaning lady to give them the best life possible.

However, with her rudimentary French while her daughters have trouble speaking Arabic, communication is strained, especially with her rebellious younger daughter.The leading role was played by Algerian Soria Zeroual, a real-life cleaning lady who found herself nominated for best actress alongside French cinema greats Isabelle Huppert and Catherine Deneuve. Michael Douglas became the latest Hollywood star honored with a lifetime achievement award by the Cesars, and delivered his acceptance speech entirely in French. "It is a little like French cuisine, to make a great dish you need excellent ingredients. To make a great film you need a brilliant screenplay, a great director and exceptional actors," said Douglas."I have nearly always had the chance to count on these good ingredients." The broad sweep of actors and film themes on offer comes in stark contrast to those up for the Oscars. In France, three women filmmakers were nominated for a Cesar -- none of them won -- while not a single woman got the nod in that category at the Oscars. The best actress gong went to 10-time Cesar nominee Catherine Frot, 59, for her role in "Marguerite" which tells the tale of a diva who wants to be an opera singer and seems oblivious to the fact that she cannot sing. Minor details, right?

Vincent Lindon, 56, scooped the best actor prize for his role in "Le Loi Du Marche" (The Measure Of A Man) in which he plays an unemployed factory worker faced with humiliating job interviews and useless internships.

And forget all those Oscar parties, everyone in Paris heads up to Fouquet's on the Champs Elysées for THE party.

Cara - Tuesday