In a used bookstore, thumbing through a carwreck of a novelization, (which shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) when I came across this gem:

“His gaze darted around nervously, as if apprehensive that somehow, in some insane fashion, someone would suddenly manage to pop out of hiding and surprise him.”

It was so dreadful it was almost entertaining, but I “suddenly managed” to put it back in the discount bin.

By now everyone even tangentially connected to writing for a living has seen Josh Olson’s reasons why he will not read your fucking script and all the subsequent responses, both reasoned and otherwise.

Many people seem to be deeply offended by Olson’s article. I’m far more offended by the astounding, profoundly selfish sense of entitlement displayed by posters who feel they are somehow owed a leg up from successful professional writers they’ve never met. Which probably makes me a dick, just like Josh.

I have a question for all the other published authors and produced screenwriters out there. Did any of you get your start in the business by asking a stranger to read your unpublished/unproduced work? I’m not talking about a legit submission to an editor or publisher, I’m talking about an unsolicited email (or paper letter) sent to a writer you’ve never met. Anybody?

Because I certainly didn’t. I got my start by working my ass off, writing and publishing short stories and small press novels until I got good enough to get recommended for novelization gigs. Not by a random stranger I bullied or shamed into giving me a leg up, but by someone who admired my published work. Work they had already read because they liked it, not because I asked them to. After that, I got asked to write for Hard Case. Then my agent asked to represent me. The few scripts I’ve written so far have been done for people who asked me to write them. Never the other way around.

Of course, that’s just my story. Maybe there really are tons of successful writers out there who would have never been published or produced if not for the kindness of strangers. If that’s how it happened for you, post a comment, and let me know.

Got my Bouchercon panel assignment:

MORE NOIR THAN YOU ARE

Friday, October 16, 9:00 – 9:55 am

Is noir a path toward realism or away from it? What is noir anyway?

Frankie Bailey (M), Christa Faust, Victor Gischler, Charlie Newton, Jeri Westerson

Hope to see you there. (Because if I have to get up and make sense by 9am then dammit, so do you!)

I’ve finally sent the second draft of my new book out to my agent and my elite, crackerjack corps of beta readers. This book was a hell of a fight.

Meanwhile, the to-do list has taken on Godzilla-like proportions. All the real world chores that didn’t get done, plus the new projects clamoring for my attention. If you’ve asked me for something in the past few months and are waiting on a response, please drop me a reminder. The next two weeks are all about catch up.

Post on Carano/Cyborg coming up. But first I really need to clean out my fridge.

Butch has managed to injure his other eye. According to the eye doc, this is problematic because of a genetic predisposition common in Boston Terriers. Basically, what would just be a minor annoyance for another dog, like a fleck of grit in the eye, turns into a nasty ulcer for poor Butch. He will spend the next week in the radar dish. I will spend the next week taking meticulous care of his eye with three different meds applied multiple times per day in the (probably futile) hope that it will heal on its own and he will not need the same expensive surgery he had to have in the other eye.

Oh yeah and while I’m at it, finishing my book.

First of all, a message for anyone who’s waiting to hear back from me about anything. I’ll be going through the massive backlog of emails and messages on facebook or myspace over the next few days and I’ll get to yours soon, I swear.

Meanwhile, the book has left the building. It’s nowhere near perfect yet, but I really needed to take a break and try to gain a little perspective. To that end, it’s now in the capable hands of the lovely and talented Sunshine Guthrie. I’m expecting (and undoubtedly deserve) to be worked over with the literary brass knuckles some time next week, but I plan to take it like and like it. Until then, it’s all about the mundane shit. Dusting. Laundry. Catching up on my email, my reading and my sleep. Refill the batteries. Because I have a feeling I’m going to need them.

I just typed THE MOTHERFUCKING END on this latest novel.

The work is far from over. I still need to go back through and fix various minor holes and connective tissue, and then once I turn it in to the Tartan Ninja on Wednesday, there’ll be his notes to deal with. But all that aside, I’m stunned and amazed to have finally made it to The End.

I still have no idea why writing this particular book was so excruciating but it was with out a doubt the toughest so far. Ever, I hope, because I'd be glad to live the rest of my life without having to go through this kind of torture ever again.

It’s been a mad dash for THE END over the past few days. A dash that will continue until the 15th, at which point something with “the end” written on the last page needs to be submitted to my agent, the Tartan Ninja. Today needs to be a stellar writing day so that I can fuck off to Meltdown Comics for the big 100 Bullets bash tomorrow night.

It’s June, Faustketeers, the Royal Birthday Month, so visit my wish list and act accordingly.

I’ve already received two desperately needed but not-really-what-I-wanted birthday gifts. The first is an extension on my deadline. In all seriousness, this latest book has been the toughest yet for me. It’s been painfully slow going from day one, and I’m still nowhere near where I want to be. I was hoping to take a breather in June and enjoy some much needed downtime, but that’s just not gonna be possible. So the grind continues…

The other questionable but necessary gift is another day-job project. Because, you know, rent and all that. So instead of a nice relaxing Birthday Month, I get to work double shifts for the next two weeks.

Send chocolate. And bakelite.

It’s been a hell of a week, but in the midst of it all, I feel like I’ve had a small but critical breakthrough on the new book. Not a plot issue so much as a character issue and because of it I feel like I have a better understanding of this book’s emotional heart. That realization also planted some interesting seeds for the book after this one. Of course, I need to finish this one first…

Money Shot has been nominated twice for the 2009 Anthony Award, for Best Paperback Original and also for Best Cover Art. Congrats to all the nominees.

I’m chuffed as hell to hear that Duane Swierczynski scored this gig but I’m not entirely sure how to feel about the idea of a TV/book hybrid. Co-creator Anthony Zuiker claims to lack the patience to read a 400 page novel, but I think I lack the patience to stop reading constantly to go watch TV. That being said, of course I’ll read/watch it anyway, because it’s Swierczy and he rocks. If anyone can make this curious concept fly it will be him.

Thoughts?

Well, it sounds like mostly everyone loves their iPhones, so if I can nurse my dying phone for another six months (or, if absolutely necessary, replace it with another cheap piece of crap that won’t lengthen my contract) then I’ll make the jump as soon as my Sprint contract runs out.

Meanwhile, I do have that pesky deadline coming up.

Yesterday I had a very interesting lunch with an 18 year old fighter to help get a handle on a character that’s been somewhat elusive for me. I’m such a cranky old fart and I honestly can’t remember the last time I spent any time listening to anyone under 21. Was I ever that optimistic?

After buying him lunch, or more specifically buying him bottled water to drink with his meticulously measured and prepared Tupperware containers of protein and carbs, I spent a few hours at Legends watching him train. I also talked to several other students and one of the instructors too. Sometimes when I’m feeling blocked, spending time with people doing the thing I’m writing about can help grease the mental wheels and get things moving again.

Time to find out exactly how greasy those wheels really are.

My first novel CONTROL FREAK has lost its Amazon rank. TRIADS (coauthored with PZB) on the other hand, has not lost its rank, despite all the gay butt sex. Neither has MONEY SHOT.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, read more here.

Glitch my ass!

I had to pull the new book over, open the hood and tinker around a little in there before I could get the thing back on the road. I feel like I’ve made some small but critical improvements to the overall story structure and hope this will help the engine run more smoothly on the home stretch. Which is a good thing, because, not counting today (or Edgar Week), I have 61 days till deadline.

In other news, I got my copies of the Greek edition of Control Freak today. I was pretty amazed to discover that I’ve actually run out of room on the brag shelf.

Tomorrow I’ll be a special guest at the monthly MWA meeting along with Judith Freeman, author of The Long Embrace: Raymond Chandler and the Woman He Loved. We’ll be celebrating the 50th anniversary of Chandler’s death. Here are the details:

Sunday, March 22
12:30 PM
Chop Suey Café and Lounge (formerly Far East Café)
347 E. First St.
Downtown Los Angeles (Little Tokyo)

Also, for your amusement, a list of Noir related questions and my off-the-cuff answers (in English) from German website Mordlust.

Check out this Facebook invite to the big release party for the Greek edition of my first novel Control Freak, aka "Εξουσιαστική Μανία." Apparently the first section is details about the party and the second, an article about me and the book. Anyone out there read Greek? ladyeuthanasia?

I’m back in LA. Seattle was a blast. Pix to come.

Meanwhile, I have real teeth! Well… real fake teeth anyway. The final implants are in and look great. Plus, I don’t ever have to worry about my skeletonized remains going unidentified. There’s no mistaking those three screws in my skull.

So now I’m fighting to surf the endless disruptions and try to get back up to speed on the new book. No rest for the wicked.

I don’t like to talk about projects before they’ve hatched, but the deal I’m currently embroiled in is even more hush-hush than usual, if that’s possible

Newsflash: No Details Are Revealed on Even-More-Secret-Than-Usual Secret Project!

Sheesh. I’m sure all my millions (well, six) readers out there really appreciate being kept up to date.

So what can I post about? Well J.D. Rhoads started a very interesting thread over on Murderati about marketing, trailers, book tours, and what works and what doesn’t, including an informal poll with very interesting results.

Me, I’ve never bought a book because of a trailer. In fact, the only book trailer I’ve ever watched was for Al Guthrie’s Savage Night and I would have bought that anyway, even if the trailer sucked.

Even though I did one myself, mostly just for fun to see if I could pull it off, I still think book trailers are a peculiar and not entirely right-headed concept. Mostly because reading is such a different experience than watching a visual trailer. And I don’t buy the argument that most people are trained to be more visual and less literate so they need the visual stimulus to make them buy books. That’s like selling broccoli by showing people images of chocolate.

As far as author’s web presence, I actually do find myself wanting to read books by writers whose blogs are interesting. It’s their writing, not their filmmaking ability (or the filmmaking abilities of those they hire) that sparks my interest.

I also admit that I’m a cover slut and therefore much more likely to pick up a book with a snazzy cover than one with a dull, amateurish or ugly cover. In fact I own plenty of nearly unreadable (mostly vintage) books that I had to have just because I loved the cover.

For me, the most common reason why I buy a book by an author I’ve never heard of is because someone who’s opinion I trust recommends it.

So what do you think, Faustketeers? What sort of virtual come-hither (if any) makes you want to check out a new writer? Why did you first pick up one of my books?

It’s been a stressful fortnight of multiple deadline madness. All have been met, but the big one, the next book for June, still looms large. I’m trying to stay frosty, with mixed results.

In dental news, I had one of my strangest experiences in the ongoing implant process yesterday. I had the usual x-rays and impressions, including one where he removed the temp caps and their screws and stuck what can only be described as industrial Dracula fangs in the empty holes. These were shaped like squared off bullets, green metal with protruding threaded screws so long I couldn’t shut my mouth. But that’s not the strange part.

The really strange part was this weird metal torture device that looked like something dreamed up by a sadistic Phrenologist. It had a metal bite plate smeared with blue goo that went in my mouth, plugs that went in my ears and various adjustable metal struts around my face that the dentist tightened with a screwdriver. Apparently it was measuring my jaws and the angles of my bite. After less than a minute of wearing this apparatus, I felt like someone was driving nails into the hinges of my jaw. I’m still achy today from that and from all that screwing (get your mind out of the gutter, I mean the implant screws) but the good news is, the next step is the last, the placement of the real permanent teeth. I love my dentist, but I’m really ready to be done with all this.

And, in other teeth-related news, it looks like the Kogi BBQ team is finally going brick-and-mortar. This doesn’t mean the end of the beloved Kogi trucks (there are two now, with rumors of a third in the works) just an addition to the Mangueras’ mobile empire of Korean/Mexican fusion street-chow.

There’s been a lot of sour grumbling about the “hype” surrounding Kogi BBQ, the long lines, their use of Twitter to announce their locations, and the inevitable hipster-factor. The way I see it, the word hype, defined as “exaggerated or extravagant claims made especially in advertising or promotional material” implies all jerk and no squirt. The truth is, buzz notwithstanding, Kogi’s food is flat out fantastic. Great flavors, high quality ingredients and fearless creativity. And, hey, any chow that gets Angelinos to wait on line IN THE RAIN can’t be discounted as nothing but hollow hype.

¡Viva Bulgogi Taco-A-Go-Go!

Also, speaking of internet hype, I wanted to remind all you Faustketeers to follow me, faustfatale, on Twitter. I find it pretty damn hilarious that, after all my curmudgeonly grumbling about “microblogging” I’ve recently been posting more over there than here, because it’s short and sweet. On deadline, short is definitely sweeter.