Site moved to matthewdicks.com/blog, redirecting in 1 second...

138 posts categorized "SOMETHING MISSING"

March 30, 2012

MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND: An audio preview

The first two chapters of the audio version of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND are available for preview here.

The book is narrated by Matthew Brown, which seems apropos considering my UK pseudonym is Matthew Green.

I was initially worried that I would not like the narrator, especially given that the story is told in the first person, but the team at Macmillan has done a tremendous job in casting the role. I couldn’t be more pleased.

And I will have a chance to listen to the whole book soon. Macmillan is producing advanced listening copies of the book for distribution to booksellers, reviewers and at Book Expo America, so I’ll be able to give the book a listen before it’s actually published.

This will be helpful considering I never read any my own novels after they have been published. It’s too painful. I cannot help but continue to revise sentences and word choice in my mind.

I live in a tragic state of perpetual dissatisfaction.

But I am able to listen to my books on audio and enjoy them without the inner critic sounding off in my head, which is important considering how easily I can forget what I’ve actually written. Recently I was asked a question about a minor character in my first book, SOMETHING MISSING, and I could barely remember who the character was or what role her served in the story.

It was a sign that it was time to give the audio version of SOMETHING MISSING a listen again. I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is to realize that a reader has more knowledge about your novel than you do.   

March 16, 2012

SOMETHING MISSING: Asian style

The Korean and Chinese editions of my first novel, SOMETHING MISSING, arrived yesterday.

Three years after it first published, the book is still exciting me. 

image

image image

January 21, 2012

The many covers of SOMETHING MISSING

By reader request, the following are the various covers of my first novel, SOMETHING MISSING. 

The book’s foreign rights were also purchased in Russia and one or two other countries (I think), but I have yet to see the cover art for these yet.

______________________________________________

US trade paperback and large print editions:

Japanese edition:

 

Korean edition (retitled THE VERY GOOD THIEF):

  

Germany edition (retitled THE GOOD THEIF):

US audiobook:

January 19, 2012

SOMETHING MISSING: The Korean edition

My South Korean editor contacted me last night to inform  me that my first novel, SOMETHING MISSING, was published in Korea a couple weeks ago and has been receiving very positive reviews in the press.

It’s so odd and so thrilling to think that my story, which published in the US in 2009, is now being read by people on the other side of the world. 

SOMETHING MISSING was sold to half a dozen foreign publishers, but the only translation that I have seen thus far is the German version, which is on my bookshelf.  My Korean editor informs me that a copy should arrive at my home soon, but until then, she sent along an image of the cover art.

It’s quite interesting.  Nothing like anything I would have expected.

image

October 11, 2011

Tears of joy

My wife reacted similarly when I told her about my first book deal.

I’ve been trying to make her cry ever since.

September 13, 2011

Dickens and Dicks

A reader sent me this photo with the heading “In good company.”

I couldn’t agree more.

And while it’s not quite Dicks, please note that no one asked Charles Dickens to change his last name for the sake of decorum.  

image

August 13, 2011

A sequel to SOMETHING MISSING: Martin Railsback, FBI tactical operations double agent

A reader sent me this NPR story about the FBI’s tactical operations team

For those of you who have read SOMETHING MISSING, you’ll understand when I say that the story is so eerily reminiscent of Martin Railsback, the book’s protagonist, that I’m wondering if I worked for the FBI in a previous life.

A few excerpts from the story: 

When some people go away this summer, they may have no idea that somebody dropped by their house while they were gone. Hundreds of times each year, teams from the Federal Bureau of Investigation slip into houses and office buildings. Armed with a judges warrant, they seek information or plant bugs, and if all goes well, sneak away.

There are about 70 agents on about seven different teams. And these teams spend weeks watching the target to see who goes in, to see if there are any dogs. In the case of dogs, they will show a photograph of the dog to a veterinarian who is on contract. And the veterinarian, based on the weight of the dog and the type of dog, will prescribe just the right amount of tranquilizer and the agents will use a dart gun and shoot the tranquilizer into the dog. And then at the end of the break in...

They each have a specialty. One will just watch to see if anybody is coming once they’re in. One will take photographs of what the premises is like when they go in. If they have to move a chair, lets say, they put a tape where the chair was and then they move it back.

One of the most fun parts of writing SOMETHING MISSING was the idea that I was inventing a new career.  Legal or otherwise, Martin was making a living doing something that I was thought was completely plausible and yet, to my knowledge, never previously attempted.

Apparently the FBI was one step ahead of me.

But perhaps I have found an answer to the hundred of requests for a sequel to SOMETHING MISSING. 

Maybe Martin could bring his talents to the FBI tactical operations team. 

As an outside consultant, perhaps, critical of the wasteful nature of their large teams and overly complex methodology.

Or maybe as an FBI double agent, exposing a corrupt tactical operations team by using his own similar but superior tactics against them. 

Martin Railsback, the FBI watchdog. 

To be perfectly honest, it’s probably not the kind of book that I could write.  Thrillers like the books I have just described are probably not in my wheelhouse. 

A sequel to SOMETHING MISSING (undoubtedly titled SOMETHING FOUND) would invariably deal with Martin’s struggle to relinquish his criminal career in order to bring love and family into his life. 

But that book has yet to speak to me.  It may never speak to me.

But imagining Martin Railsback going to battle with a team of FBI agents is certainly fun to imagine.      

June 08, 2011

A lot of great news, but the vomit trumps it all

My fifth graders performed Shakespeare’s Henry V last night, using the original Old English, and did a masterful job. 

Two friends and colleagues turned lyrics that I wrote into an actual song, the first time anything that I have written has been set to music, and it sounded terrific.

I received some potentially excellent news in terms of the possibility of SOMETHING MISSING being made into a film.  In fact, I read a script and liked it a lot. 

But all of these wonderful moments from yesterday pale in comparison to what happened just before I left for my student’s play:

My daughter, suffering from a nasty stomach bug, threw up vast quantities of strawberries, blueberries and milk all over the kitchen floor, managing to splash my shoes in the process, and I cleaned it up.

This was a big deal for me.  I do not handle vomit well.  In fact, the first rule that I tell my students on the first day of school is “No throwing up in the classroom.” 

I explain that even if they just think they might vomit, they are to leap from their chair and run as fast as possible to the hallway, and if possible, the bathroom.

Anywhere but the classroom, because I do not handle vomit well.

And yet I managed to watch my daughter throw up all over the floor, and then, while my wife cleaned up the kid, I managed to clean up the floor without much trouble.   

This is big for me. 

Perhaps parents have a natural immunity to their own child’s vomit?

Maybe my daughter’s vomit is especially benign?

Or could it simply be that I am finally toughening up?

May 10, 2011

Lessons from Irving and Franzen

I learned a number of interesting things from the authors who appeared at Friday night’s Connecticut Forum.

John Irving’s favorite word is penis, and he claims it to be a very useful word when needing to cut through the chatter of an airport terminal in order to locate your lost child.    

Jonathan Franzen credits HARRIET THE SPY as his first formative novel.

John Irving believes that all novelists should write about what they fear the most. 

In terms of my position on these matters:

I have no favorite word but now feel foolish for not having one.  I shall begin searching immediately. 

My first formative novels were A WRINKLE IN TIME and TREASURE ISLAND. 

In terms of writing what I fear most, my books would probably fall into these categories: 

SOMETHING MISSING: Fear of never being noticed

UNEXPECTEDLY, MILO: Fear of never being accepted

MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND: Fear of not existing

May 03, 2011

Does knowing the author enhance the story?

I recently wrote:

A book talk places the author in the position of salesperson.  He can sell the product or sell himself.  I believe the latter to be always preferable.

I have always believed that if I can offer an audience some insight about my life and a few laughs along the way, they will be more likely to read my book and like my book than if I had spent my time touting the book itself.

As a result, my book talks and speaking engagements tend to be storytelling sessions that do not focus so much on my books as they do on my life. 

But I’ve often wondered if this is the best way to sell a book.  While my choice of strategy is hardly new, I have noted over the years that some of the more prolific and best selling authors spend a great deal of time reading from their books and talking about the stories themselves while revealing little about themselves. 

As an reader and audience member, I’ve wondered:

Am I the only person who wants to know more about the author than the book he or she is hocking? 

Last week NPR reported on a story that seems to support my position

In an effort to get more attention for their band, record label Luaka Bop asked writer Chuck Klosterman to write a bio for the band Delicate Steve sight unseen. 

The label’s President, Yale Evelev, wanted something different that would grab the music industries attention and get people to actually read it.

"I thought, since I'm really tired of bios for bands, wouldn't it be great just to tell Chuck to write whatever the hell he wanted as a bio for the band? So I wrote him an email and I said, 'Chuck, would you do a bio for Delicate Steve? You don't have to talk to the band and you don't even have to hear the record.' He wrote me back: 'I don't do bios.' And then, two minutes later, he wrote back again: 'Wait a minute. Do you mean I don't have to talk to the band or listen to the record? That's AWESOME! OK, I'll do it!'"

And it worked.  NPR reporter Franne Kelley received the press release, noted the unusual bio of the band, and decided to check out the band.

The result was this story, which garnered Delicate Steve a great deal of free publicity.   

Kelley writes: 

“One of the reasons Klosterman was able to pull this off in the first place is that we NEED stories about music, and those stories really do change how we hear the music.”

And the research backs up her claim. 

Michael Beckerman, chair of the music department at NYU, has done research on this very subject.

From the NPR story:

Five years ago, he invited a group of people to listen to a piece of music in a church in Germany. He gave program notes to half of the audience that told them the piece they were about to hear was written in a concentration camp, by a composer who was sent to Auschwitz only days later, where he died. He told the other half nothing other than the composer's name.

"Afterwards," Beckerman says, "we interviewed everybody. And the people who didn't get program notes thought it was sort of a sweet, lovely, folksy, Eastern European piece. And the people who got program notes almost uniformly tended to understand it at as one of the great tragic statements of the century."

It would seem that knowledge of a piece of music changes the listeners opinion of it. 

I would argue that the same holds true for books.  Knowing the author changes the way that a reader views a story.

And liking the author as a person will go a long way in helping a reader enjoy a book.

I was recently participating in an online discussion about my first book, SOMETHING MISSING.  A book rep for a major publisher was hosting the chat, and while she initially liked it a great deal when it was published in 2009, she admitted that knowing me personally has changed the way she views my work.

I assume it changed for the better, but I was afraid to ask. 

But the same has held true for me.  In the three years since I published SOMETHING MISSING, I have met a great many authors and gotten to know a few very well.  And in each instance, I have found that the way in which I read their work has changed as I have gotten to know them on a more personal level.  When I know an author, his or her books tend to take on more subtlety and nuance, and I am better able to detect those connections that the novels make to the real world.

And in every instance, I find myself liking the book more.

But I still wonder if I am in the minority.  When I am delivering a book talk, should I be pitching product or person?    

In two weeks I will be speaking at the Connecticut Literary Festival, and while I rarely know what I will say before approaching the podium and often change my mind midstream, I will invariably begin telling stories about my life.  It’s what I have always done, and frankly, it’s what I enjoy most. 

And halfway through the talk, I will have to remind myself to mention my books, because my instinct will be to push them aside and use my time to allow my audience to get to know me. 

If they know me and like me and become interested in my life story, how could they not want to read my books?

Right? 

Or wrong?