What Do I Know?

New book!

I almost forgot to post anything here; I've been so busy! I have a new novel published (under my pen name, Kathryn Barrett). 

You can find buy links here, and read more about how the book came about here. Meanwhile, the back of the book blurb:

Connor Forrest is a self-made billionaire only one generation removed from the emerald turf of his mother’s Ireland. Jaded by the high risk, high tech investment world he inhabits, he has little time for introspection, poetry, or true love. A piece of perfectly thought out logic, on the other hand, makes him weak in the knees.

Rebecca Evans is a brilliant computer programmer disguised as a ditzy blonde. She’s looking for love, but people are not as predictable as a mathematic equation. A fall in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park sends her straight into Connor’s arms, but getting into his heart is a much harder task.

Can Connor learn that true love, like gold futures, is worth a little risk?

You've Read the Blog; Now Read the Book: What Am I Doing Here?

New release!

For the last few months, I've been working on a non-fiction project called What Am I Doing Here? I've kept it under my hat, since I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull it off. It's self-published, under my own imprint called Lavender House Publishing. (More about that later.) 

What Am I Doing Here? is a collection of blog posts from this site, plus a few extra bits, including a glossary. It focuses primarily on my experience here as an expat, an American slightly bewildered by Britain. There are chapters on the assimilation process (rocky), driving (smooth), language (still incomprehensible at times) and, of course, my dog.

In fact, I've dedicated the book to Bailey, my Golden girl and I'm donating the proceeds to the cancer charity Animal Cancer Foundation. Cancer in canines is similar if not identical to the same cancers in humans, so research in one species adds to our knowledge of cancer in other species. 

What Am I Doing Here? will be available in both print and digital. If you buy the print edition at Amazon.com, you can get a digital copy for only $.99 through Amazon's MatchBook program. They don't offer that at Amazon.co.uk yet. But the digital edition has some really colorful photos (as long as you have a color-enabled device), which aren't available in the print edition. 

I got the idea to compile my blog posts well over a year ago, and around that time I designed the cover, using a stock photo from iStockphoto.com. The rest of the book I edited, copyedited, and proofread myself, which I would never recommend to anyone. I used a Word template for the print edition, and made modifications to that as needed. The ebook editions were made using Jutoh, a program I highly recommend. 

In order to avoid the dreaded "Sold by Amazon Digital Services" in the product listing, I decided to create my own publishing imprint. I'd intended all along to call it Canterbury House, since that's the name of my house (isn't it charming how houses in Britain have names?). But when I searched the internet, I discovered there was already a Canterbury House Publishing.

So I scrambled for an alternative. While pondering several possibilities, I looked outside my office window at the row of lavender I planted, right in front of my house. Thus was Lavender House Publishing born. 

One day I may publish more non-fiction through Lavender House. I doubt I'll ever publish my fiction there, as I value the editing I received from my publisher far too much to want to go it alone.  

Here's how to find WAIDH?: 

Print:
Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk

Digital:
Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk,  Kobo, Barnes and Noble Nook, and iBooks USA / iBooks UK

Pride and Prejudice at 200

Pemberley, also known as Chatsworth House

Sigh. Pride and Prejudice. It's 200 years old today. I wish Jane Austen could have known how long her novel would thrill movie goers and novel readers long after the pages turned yellow and mildewed with age. 

I saw the movie with Kiera Knightly and Mathew Macfadyen as soon as it came out here in England, and then I visited most of the locations over the next few years. I finally saw the BBC version with Colin Firth and hated it. I couldn't even finish watching the six episodes, that's how bad it was. It was like an amateur video compared to the lush scenes in the Joe Wright 2005 version. Both the acting and the cinematography were several levels below the film version. With Brenda Blethyn and Donald Sutherland as Mr and Mrs Bennet, it's no wonder the actors from the BBC version was a poor imitation.

I analyzed my love for Mathew Macfadyen as Mr Darcy yesterday on my writer blog: Mr Darcy: The Vulnerable Hero. 

Futher reading:

Pride & Prejudice: A Peak Experience My review in September, 2005. 

Eight Minutes of Syrup: I discovered the American version had eight extra minutes tacked on at the end, to its detriment. When I finally saw those eight minutes on the DVD, I hated them. What a cheesy way to end the film!

Friday Zeedonk Blogging: You won't believe what sort of animals live at Groombridge, the Bennet's residence in the film. 

The Royal Mail is issueing Jane Austen stamps. Yes, this is true.

The Bennet's house in the film is actually Groombridge.

And Bingley's house Netherfield was actually Basildon Park. I visited during the drought of 2006, so the lush lawn wasn't so lush.  

And another side of Pemberly—just like its owner, it has two distinctly different sides. 

And for perspective, here is where Jane Austen wrote her novels, at this small desk at her home in Hampshire. 

What Kind of Parent Are You?

I saw this at the Roald Dahl Museum in Great Missenden. 

When you grow up and have children of your own do please remember something important

A stodgy parent is no fun at all

What a child wants and deserves

Is a parent who is 

Sparky

I'm sure I've always tried to be a sparky parent. And also a good parent to Sparky. 

For more about the Museum, check out my other blog, where I've posted more images of Roald Dahl's comments on writing. It's a great place for a writer, of any age. 

Reading, Not Blogging

I am not blogging tonight because I'm going to do this. Got two new ones to try today.

And yes, that's His Hotness, Matthew Macfadyen, in that image. (wipes drool off keyboard) Which reminds me: Does anyone remember who I loaned my DVD of that movie to?

Twelfth Grade English Teacher Needed

I'm putting the finishing touches on my paper today, but I wanted to toss this sentence out there:

Henry, prince though he had become and growing up though he rapidly was, continued to live with his two sisters.

Would any of my learned editor-readers like to take a crack at that? Teachers are welcome to chime in, too. Miss Whit, you still around? We could use your services.

Dear President Obama

Someone is compiling a book called Kids' Letters to President Obama. Got this letter on an email list:

I am working on a book called Kids' Letters to President Obama.

We are looking for letters from children ages 5 - 15, and I thought that this might be a fun activity for children. We're very excited about Kids' Letters to President Obama, which will be published by Random House in 2009.

TSS: The Amber Spyglass, Finally

Last night I stayed up to finish The Amber Spyglass, the third book in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy. I have two reactions:

Yeah, right!

and:

Just end it already!

The consensus of others who've read the books seems to be that the third book fails to meet the expectations of the previous two books, and I have to agree. If HDM is any example, Pullman doesn't know how to bring a book to a satisfying and swift conclusion. The first two essentially didn't end, and the third had what seemed to be the final denouement about three quarters of the way through, a final fight of good versus evil in which the main characters were curiously absent.

No, Lyra and Will were off holding hands, in a prolonged courtship that, frankly, was about as believable as another plot development, where Mary learns to communicate with the mulefa within three days.

One or two all-too-convenient plot points is forgivable, but Pullman pulls them out of his hat like a tired magician. And there were also several plot inconsistencies I noticed, even when my eyes were drooping and begging for sleep. (Two of them, incidentally, having to do with sleep.)

But about that all important religious aspect, in which these books are characterized as somehow putting religion in its place. I said before I didn't see the books as anti-religious, or at least anti-faith. Yes, organized religion is the enemy, yet at the end of the book, I was left feeling as if the characters had merely substituted one religion for another. Conscious Dust? Really? If this is the best an admitted atheist can do to combat the spread of religious doctrine through children's literature, I think atheism is in trouble.

But then, here's my problem: As I've mentioned before, I have a real problem suspending disbelief, which is why I don't enjoy fantasy or science fiction. It's also why I don't believe in an all-powerful God. I have no faith in what I can't see or feel or understand on some basic level. Yet, it hasn't escaped my notice that lots of atheists are sci-fi and fantasy fans. Huge fans.

So what am I missing?

Admittedly, this is glossing over many elements of fiction writing I don't want to deal with this morning—world building, plausible character development, consistent plotting. Perhaps I should stick to the inconsistent plot points and leave it at that. I will say, I enjoyed the first two books very much, which is why I persevered with the third. But in Amber Spyglass there were just one two many fantastic wheeled creatures, one two many harpies, for my taste. (When Lyra's "death" appeared I seriously considered throwing the book at the nearest wall. But I didn't want to have to explain to the landlord why a chunk of the wall was missing.)

(Mild spoiler ahead.) I should also note that I had different expectations (see my last post) on the role of Lyra as the Eve figure. She is not Eve, the mother of the human race, but Eve, the tempted. Not quite as satisfying, for me. I think he could have done a lot more with this idea. Perhaps he was too busy figuring out the physiology of the mulefa.

All in all, I'm glad I read the books, just to see what the fuss was all about. And they were good reads, especially the first two. But I don't think I'm ready to delve into fantasy or sci-fi any time soon.

I'll stick with mulefa-free fiction in future, thank you.

(Although it's no longer Sunday, at least in my world, I'll go ahead and post the link to the Sunday Salon portal here.)

The Sunday Salon: Amber Spyglass

I still haven't finished Amber Spyglass—I got distracted this week—but I thought I'd post my reactions so far.

If you've read it, please comment. I don't mind spoilers, but there may be a few here if you haven't read it, so tread lightly.

I was wrong. Lyra isn't a Jesus figure at all. She is, apparently, this figure. I have to hand it to Pullman; that's a much more clever and original concept than the Jesus-figure stereotype. We'll see how that works out for her.

The way Pullman handles the major revelation about who The Authority (God?) really is, is surprising. One of the minor characters, an Angel named Balthamos, casually revealed that information to Will. Maybe Pullman didn't go to the same Novel Writing School I did, because I always thought a major revelation must be discovered by the protagonist after diligent digging, not casually dropped into the conversation by a minor character. But again, I haven't finished the book. Maybe there's more to it that Lyra or Will has yet to figure out.

Balthamos himself is a well-drawn character, more interesting and entertaining than any of the rather wooden characters (the grown-up characters, anyway) in the first two books. He's filled with shades of gray, so to speak. I hope he survives.

And I hope I finish this book soon. I've got other stuff to read, and a paper still to write for my class, which starts up again for Hilary term on Thursday.

Again, the portal to The Sunday Salon is here.

The Sunday Salon: Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife

On Christmas Eve the Daughters and I went to see the movie The Golden Compass. We rushed out of the cinema to the high street, to see if the local bookshop was open. It was, and I bought the two books in the series we didn't have, the first, Northern Lights, and the last, The Amber Spyglass.

Both girls had read the Philip Pullman trilogy His Dark Materials some years ago, but two of the books had become misplaced. While I'd begun The Subtle Knife on the recommendation of Daughter Number Two, I'd never finished it, just as I'd never finished any of the Harry Potter books. I thought it was a good book, though; I'd just been too busy then to finish what I thought of as merely a kids' book, albeit an intriguing and complex kids' book.

But with all the talk lately about the books, and about whether or not the books are a full frontal assault on religion, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

I found the first book (called Northern Lights here, The Golden Compass in the U.S.) interesting for its comparisons to the Oxford and England I know, a somewhat different version from "the other world" of the books, where humans possess pet-like daemons and bears talk. Having seen the movie, I didn't expect too many surprises in the plot, but I mostly read for character anyway. The child in the book, Lyra, is, like Harry Potter, destined to save the world. (The Jesus figure? You tell me.) She's not got all the magical talents of Potter at her disposal, yet is far more resourceful. Whereas Potter seems to rely on his friends (namely, Emma Watson) to figure out things, Lyra, nicknamed "Lyra Silvertongue" by the bear whose allegiance she earns, lies and schemes and fights her way out of trouble. I like that. It's about time (actually, more than ten years have passed since the books were written) that the hero of a book (and film) aimed at both sexes is a girl.

While my girls were in school I complained endlessly about the required reading in middle school, almost always books written by males about young male heroes. I called it the "Hatchet syndrome", the book by Gary Paulsen being representative of most 6th grade reading lists. Interesting, isn't it, that a popular series written by a woman features a male hero, while a series by a man stars a young female protagonist who lives in very male-dominated world.

But this isn't meant to be a rant about sexism in children's literature. While I enjoyed Northern Lights, I'm really enjoying The Subtle Knife even more. It takes place, so far, in the world that I know, in particular one I know very well. Many of the scenes take place in present day (early nineties, anyway) Oxford; in fact, the children (Lyra and her new friend Will) walk up and down Banbury Road, where my class building is located. The portal to the other world they discover is near the roundabout at the ring road and Banbury, a junction I've sat through countless times. How fascinating to know there's a portal there!

In one scene Lyra goes to Oxford's Museum of Natural History, one of my favorite museums anywhere, and to the fascinating Pitt Rivers Museum located through a sort of portal in the back of the Natural History museum. Here she gets an important clue about the nature of Dust among the trepanned skulls that I've gazed at myself.

That is just so cool.

I know, I'm supposed to be focusing on the possibly heretical nature of these books, but it's difficult when a good story gets in the way. And frankly, if you're reading the books looking for some sort of atheist propaganda, you're not going to find it. Sure, the bad guys, such as they are, are the Church, with a capital C, yet up to now the "bad guy" has mainly been played by Mrs Coulter, who as a woman isn't allowed to have much of a role in the Church. As to the existence of God, the books, as far as I've read, don't exactly present a convincing case (to someone who's already convinced) that there is no Higher Being. In fact, just the opposite. For these separate worlds to exist, so similar yet so distinct, requires some overall intelligence—an intelligent Designer, perhaps? Dust? Dark Matter?

Or is Philip Pullman, described as one of England's most outspoken atheists, setting me up? I don't know yet, but for now I've concluded that those people running around screaming about the anti-religious nature of His Dark Materials need to calm down, unwad their panties and read the stories.

Or go see the film. I liked it far better than the Harry Potter films I've seen. There's less reliance on talking portraits and other special effects (talking polar bears aside), which is perhaps the appeal of the books to me as well. I'm not a fan of science fiction, finding I can't suspend disbelief for long enough to buy into the premise. But His Dark Materials, set mostly in worlds I'm familiar with, don't cause that "yeah, right!" reaction I get from others in the genre.

They're just good stories.

Hopefully by next week I'll have finished The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass. I'll let you know if my opinion remains the same.

For more Sunday Salon posts, check out the portal here.

Sunday Salon: Eighteenth Century London

This weekend I'm reading a couple of books, each on eighteenth century London. The more entertaining one is Liza Picard's Dr. Johnson's London. The other is a big bulky book with lots of illustrations, Classical Architecture in Britain: The Heroic Age.

Dr. Johnson lived in London from 1737 until his death in 1784. He's known here simply as "Dr. Johnson" but his name was Samuel Johnson, and while to the British he needs no introduction, to Americans, he's not so well known. In the first class I took here I remember the instructor going on and on about this Mr. Johnson, and not liking to be out of a secret, finally I asked who this dude was, and why wasn't he referred to by his first and last name, like any other figure of history?

In Britain, he's considered the writer of the first English language dictionary, although Americans prefer to dismiss Johnson's attempt in favor of Webster's. Picard's book actually tells us little about Dr. Johnson, but a lot about what life was like in London in the eighteenth century.

The other book (and here I'm tempted to write "tome") is a little less entertaining, but it's also proving useful as a guide to eighteenth century London. Who lived where, what sort of houses did they live in, and most importantly, which buildings have since been demolished.

Why am I so hot on eighteenth century London, you ask? Well, I'm planning to do a bit of time traveling in the not too far distant future, so I'd like all the guide books to the area—and era—that I can find.

That's not meant to be a joke. I'm actually writing a paper from the p.o.v. of a foreign visitor to the capital during the eighteenth century, around the time Ben Franklin lived here. I haven't got much more than a glimmer of an idea and a few paragraphs as of yet, but it sounds like fun.

Perhaps we'll have Dr. Johnson stop by.

Sunday Salon: Iain Pears Again

A few months ago I mentioned how much I'd enjoyed An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears. It was one of my favorite reads this year, in fact. I've been on the lookout for another one by him, with no luck. When I was in Northampton recently my daughter and I spent some quality time at a bookshop. There, on a shelf of dusty mark-downs, I found Giotto's Hand. Even better it was marked $5! I quickly calculated: That's only a little over £2! What a bargain!

Giotto's Hand wasn't nearly as long or as intricate as Fingerpost; it only took a few nights, at my slow pace, to finish it. It has an entirely different feel from Fingerpost too; partly because it's—marginally—a contemporary novel. I say "marginally" since it has an old-fashioned feel to it. Part of the book is set in Italy, only they're using lira instead of euros. (The switchover occurred on Jan. 1, 1999, the year the book was published.) The characters, too, lack the cynical edge of so many modern characters. I found that refreshing.

I see that Pears has quite a few novels dealing with the art world. I'll be on the lookout for them, too, next time I visit my daughter.

Now, for a not-completely-inappropriate segue: The New York Times recently ran a feature on Massachusetts' Pioneer Valley, which is where Northampton is located. It seems the area is known for its literary establishments. I visited two bookshops in Northampton (three, if you count the college bookstore) but it looks like there are plenty more in the area.

With $5 books, it's almost worth another trip over.

Wondering what The Sunday Salon is? Go here, and check out what everyone else is reading.

Sunday Salon: An Uncommon Reader Lands With a Thud

CottonTimer invited me to join a new group (also on Facebook) called Sunday Salon, where you spend your weekend reading and then write a post about it. Since I've been wanting to rant about the book I read on the plane to the States, I figured now would be a good time.

I picked up An Uncommon Reader at the airport bookshop, paying full price for it. It's a slim book, and I finished it in a couple of hours—I hardly got my money's worth. But I had a bigger complaint. The book was awkwardly written, with the author, Alan Bennet, several times switching tense. Past tense, present tense, whatever, just stick to one. I can handle POV shifts, jerking me out of someone's head, but don't jerk me out of my time zone. Not even when I'm on a plane, whizzing across lines of longitude as if they're threads in an Aubusson.

And surely Alan Bennett had time to smooth out some of the more overblown sentences. There is only so much time in one's life, after all, for disentangling clauses.

The book is about the Queen, yes, that Queen, who one day discovers the travelling library on the grounds of Buckingham Palace and begins reading. Fine; great premise, that's why I bought the book. But the book left me wanting more, and not just more pages.

I'd have liked to have seem more showing, less telling—the number one trick you learn at Novel Writers' School. I'd also have liked more character development, yet that might be asking too much from a 120-page novella. Mostly, I'd have liked more humor—while An Uncommon Reader was not without its gentle chuckles, the premise called out for some real ROFL moments. (Rolling on the Airplane Aisle Laughing? Or even Awakening My Seatmate with Unbridled Chuckling?)

Ironically, a book about the joys of reading turned out to be a frustrating wallbanger. I couldn't toss the book against the wall, like I wanted to, since I was seated in an airplane and didn't want to risk having the authorities alerted and the plane diverted to Newfoundland. Instead I gave it to my mother-in-law.

Fortunately, the mailman just delivered two new books: A Dog Abroad, by Bruce Fogle and Return to Tuscany, by Ciancarlo and Katie Caldesi. Next weekend looks more promising already.

Why I Hate the Book Business

Simple. It's the extortion. Or maybe this comes under the heading of indentured servitude.

Either way it stinks.

But you gotta love the letter the publisher wrote to the big box bookseller.

Voluble hilarity indeed.

Segueing into Stonor

Stonor, scene of political and religious intrigue, I like to think.

On Wednesday, a friend invited me to visit Stonor, a manor house near Henley-on-Thames. The house, unlike many old stately homes, has remained in the same family for 850 years. Quite a feat, especially considering the family is Catholic.

The martyr St. Edmond Campion hid out here in the 16th century, and here he secretly printed "Ten Reasons" for why Catholicism should be preferred to the new English church. That, as you can imagine, didn't go over very well, but still the Stonor family was able to hang on to their property.

These days, when even the prime minister flirts with Catholicism, Stonor bears no stigma, and during our visit not even, literally, a full-blown cloud. During two months a year, visitors can twice weekly tour the house and grounds, which include an extensive park, a garden, a chapel, a prehistoric stone circle and the most gorgeous copper beech I've ever seen. In the summer, Stonor hosts the Summer Proms concerts on the front lawn.

This visit fit nicely with a book I just finished, An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears, a fascinating tale of mystery, history, and science, set in 1663 Oxford. It's been compared with Eco's The Name of the Rose, but I found it much more readable than Rose. Told by four rather unreliable narrators, it sheds light ever so slowly on a murder and subsequent execution, as well as the political intrigue that surrounded Charles II's restoration to the throne. Peopled by famous scientists and thinkers of the day including Robert Boyle, John Locke, the mathematician John Wallis, Christopher Wren, and John Aubrey, An Instance of the Fingerpost reads like a particularly entertaining history text. But it's also a cracking good mystery.

Walking around Stonor, which must have been the scene of more than one heated religious debate, I couldn't help but imagine John Wallis peering around corners, searching for stray Papists.

Now, how was that for a segue?

If You're Serious About that Novel...

I was very fortunate when I lived in Albuquerque to have a supportive group of writing friends, and even more fortunate that those friends included some extremely talented writers and teachers. One of those friends is giving a fiction writing workshop on March 24 in Santa Fe called The Purposeful Writer: Explorations in Fiction.

The brochure from Wordharvest describes the course better than I could:

Master teacher Laura Baker shares her "story box" technique to help fiction writers at all levels move from idea to words on paper, or go to greater creative depths with their work. In this day-long workshop participants will learn to enhance their storytelling skills, create compelling characters and increase the novel's emotional resonance. The workshop starts with story ideas and Baker's unique story box system, and explores theme, motivation and structure to build solid fiction on the bedrock of the writers' interests and talents. Writing exercises, interspersed throughout the day, will help students find ideas and material to incorporate into their work. Baker's approach takes an end-run around waiting for inspiration.

Co-creator of the popular Discovering Story Magic writing workshops, Baker is the author of suspense and romantic suspense novels set in the Southwest. From her first release, Baker's books have garnered critical acclaim and an impressive list of national award nominations including the National Reader's Choice Award and the RITA. Her nonfiction articles on writing have been published in Writer's Digest, the RWR, and numerous newsletters across the country.

If you live in the area and are interested in learning more about fiction writing, or are waiting for the Muse to visit you, you need to go to this workshop. Laura is very familiar with muses, and she can help you contact yours.

If you don't live in the area, call your favorite airline or Amtrak (I think they go near Santa Fe). What you'll learn will make it worth the trip, I promise you.

And while you're there, you might want to check out the UFO Symposium in Aztec. I'm sure there's a muse or two hanging out amongst the little green men.

Love Books? So Does Julie.

When I first started this blog, I intended to write book reviews. That intention went the way of my New Year's resolutions.

Fortunately a friend of mine has stepped into the breach. She's a writer, a voracious reader, and a mom. And now a blogger. Her site is called Julie Loves Books and she reviews a wide variety of genres, but especially women's fiction and kid lit.

I've been waiting to plug her site, to let her get a backlog of reviews. (And I swear, the fact that she very favorably reviewed this blog has nothing to do with my recommendation. But she did give me a lift on a day when I was down.) She's been reading and reviewing one of my favorite series, the Stephanie Plum mysteries by Janet Evanovich. (I can't wait until she gets to the "torture" scene in book nine.)

I guess this gives new meaning to the instruction "bookmark this site", but do it anyway.

I Knew There Was Good Stuff on the Internet!

Something free, for all you aspiring novelists. From Holly Lisle, Mugging the Muse: Writing Fiction for Love and Money.

I've only gotten to page 25 and already I've learned a couple of things. And since I've read every writing book ever written, that's pretty impressive.

Just thought I'd pass that along.
(via Paperback Writer)

WDIK Location Quiz #8

Can you guess where this London location is?

Hint: Harry Potter caught a train next door.

Another hint: Among its 150 million items are some of the greatest treasures in Britain the world.

And another hint: It is not the British Museum, but it is the largest public building constructed in the UK in the 20th century.

One more: If Beowulf bores you, you could always read the Diamond Sutra.

So You Wanna Write a Novel

I don't know why anyone would want to write fiction these days, since clearly it can and will be held against you if you ever run for office. (For a clear definition of what, exactly, fiction is and why it shouldn't influence your vote, see Susan Gable's explanation at Booksquare.)

But it has come to my attention that hordes of would-be literati will be attempting just that this month. Thousands of you have signed up for NaNoWriMo, a month-long novel writing exercise. (Why November is deemed the ideal novel writing month is beyond me, although it may have something to do with the fact that writers love alliteration.)

I am really torn: Should I offer my sympathy? My encouragement? My therapist's number?

The truth is, I don't have a therapist. I can't afford one. Not many writers can, since book publishers (if you are lucky enough to have one) don't offer health insurance, much less sanity insurance, and the measly advances would hardly pay for a decent shrink. Which you will need if you attempt to write a novel. Either that or a writers' group. I recommend the latter; they're cheaper and more effective.

The point is, if you're writing a novel because you want to get rich, forget it right now. You'll make more money, plus have benefits, if you learn to drive an 18-wheeler.

Writing a novel is extremely difficult. Writing a good novel is virtually impossible. If this is your goal, stop now. Very few perfectionists ever get beyond the first page.

Novel writing requires a completely different skill set than any other task you've performed. There have been thousands of how-to books written, thousands of workshops given, millions of articles penned (I've written a few of those myself), all dispensing very good advice. You can read them all, and still not know how to go about starting a novel, and more importantly, finishing it.

The best way to start is to just start, not at the beginning but in the middle. You can fill in the backstory later, you can explain why, where, and how pretty the sunset was, in another chapter, but you must immediately give the reader a reason to keep reading. You must make them care about your character. If you don't care about him or her yourself, then your readers won't either. This does not mean you must open the book with a scene where your character saves a litter of puppies from certain death on the freeway. Although...I could see it working. Hmmm...

As for ending your novel, you will end it when your characters have solved whatever problem they have. And there's a big clue right there: your characters must have a problem (more than one, hopefully), and bigger is better. No one wants to read about Jane or Jim's mounting pile of laundry (although dirty laundry can be symbolic). If you're a tidy person who doesn't like messiness (conflict, in the language of novelists) you'll never be able to pull this off.

Good luck to you. I'll try to offer encouragement as the month progresses, since I bet you haven't taken my advice and joined a writers' group. Consider me your writing coach. (I am very good at offering advice, very bad at taking it.)

Now pour yourself a cup of tea and write the first sentence. It gets easier after that.