Not Another Newsletter!

Touch-a-Truck & Other Memories

Hi, everybody! I've missed you so much while I've been on tour. And welcome wonderful new newsletter readers. It was terrific meeting you out there!

Before my son could talk, he already loved vehicles.There was this summer event called Touch-a-Truck, and every time my son would spot a digger or a police car, we would promise him that he could see one up close "in July!" I share this with you a) because now my son is twelve, talks a blue streak about the vehicles he still loves, and don't the years pass quickly? And also because b) I can't believe my June newsletter is coming out...in July!

It's Been a Busy Two Months

Wicked River, my wilderness thriller about a couple that goes on a backcountry honeymoon, came out May 1st. If you haven't read it already and want to, it was an Indie Next Pick and there's a good chance your local independent bookstore will have it. Barnes & Noble also chose it for their three-for-the-price-of-two display nationwide. (All over the country I was saying "two-for-three" and people would go, "Wait, what?")

Finally, Amazon made it a Best Mystery of the Month, and also has it in their stores, which are something to see, if you live near one.

The Ups and Downs of Book Tour

I'm going to highlight as many memories and bookstores and people over the next several issues as possible. If there's a mention I miss, please email and tell me! I might easily forget something because of the aforementioned crazy nutty busyness. I legit didn't take a day off for 30 straight. But here's the thing. Every single one of those days was like a party.

As soon as the book came out, my publisher sent me on a six week tour. You can't be away from home that long without there being some ups and downs. Literal ones—I had to fly a lot, and some of you already know how I feel about flying. (Every time the plane moves, which is kind of a lot, I wonder, is that normal? Or is the pilot sitting in the cockpit drinking whiskey from a plastic cup and wondering how to tell us?)

Also just plain—ha, ha, get it, PLANE—high points, like seeing Facebook friends become real at, say, FoxTale Book Shoppe in Woodstock, GA, The Raven in Lawrence, KS, and One More Page in Arlington, VA, or staying at the lovely Airbnb and bookstore of a member of the DorothyL listserv that first saw me get published. A reunion at the Poisoned Pen in Phoenix with longtime readers and friends, one of whom gave me a ride back to my hotel, and one who brought me the coolest pair of socks (if you think socks can't be cool, check these out). Phoenix also has a sweet shop that somehow figured out how to line a milkshake cup with hot fudge so that every sip of ice cream through the straw comes coated with the good stuff. Mind. Blown.

But there was also exhaustion, and flights that did not get off the ground. After the Phoenix high, I got stuck in the airport. Not for an hour or two or five, but for the entire day after which the flight was ultimately cancelled. (I thanked the crew for keeping us. Yes, I did. To everyone who grumbled, I said, "What? You wanted them to discover this weird air flow thingie WHEN WE WERE IN THE AIR? Doesn't air flow seem like the kind of thing a plane, uh, NEEDS?")

Still, getting to my event the next morning at Mystery Lovers Bookshop was starting to seem iffy, but then my publicist and travel coordinator went to work, late on a Friday night, and found a red eye to Atlanta and a connection on to Pittsburgh. So I went to my hotel, set an alarm and slept for two hours, then traveled through the air and the night, two flights instead of one. AND YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT FLYING. And then, since I was going to be sleepy, my publisher sent a limo to the airport, which got me to the packed event with twenty minutes to spare.

Highs and lows. But mostly highs.

There were bookstore window displays built around Wicked River—a kayak with a real tree at Saturn Books in Gaylord! a wedding dress atMcLean & Eakin in Petsokey!—and events where treats were served and bubbly was popped. Luncheons and dinners where I got to not-eat (I never eat at book events) but was tempted (Litchfield Books, this means you).

I told the story behind the story of Wicked River. Did you know that I originally set out on a backcountry honeymoon of my own? It was supposed to last three weeks. We made it one day. The marriage, though, that's still going strong. Thanks, honey, for holding down the fort while I traveled!

There are events still coming up—the Up All Night tour, New York to Denver, with three of my fellow Sourcebooks author, plus the Decatur Book Festival and Bouchercon—so if I'm coming anywhere near you, please join me. Seeing some of you in person was one of the very best parts.

The Ultimate Struggle and Juggle

I wrote about this dilemma for Career Authors, which led to a flame war in a FB group I've since left. I'm so grateful for the opportunities that have come my way with the release of Wicked River—to have a publisher that is so behind the book and so incredibly supportive of me.

But there's also a dilemma, and that's how to give as much to my family as I want to and they need. I have two kids, and in the past we were lucky enough to all pile in the car—husband working from the front seat—and go on what Shelf Awareness called the World's Longest Book Tour.

Now the kids are older, and have busy schedules of their own. Which means that when I go out, I have to leave them behind. How far is it reasonable to go in pursuit of a dream? Am I sending my kids a positive message about working hard toward a goal, working so that one day my career can hopefully help them achieve their own passions? Or am I letting them down each time I leave?

So, What's Happening with the Movie?

The film version of As Night Falls is in pre-production, and they are hoping to start shooting this fall. This week, I'm meeting the screenwriter for an update, and so we can plan our CraftFest offering at ThrillerFest in just a few weeks. If you're interested in How a Book Becomes a Movie, and fancy a few days in the Big Apple consider signing up and meeting me and Matthew Quinn Martin for some Hollywood instruction.

(Do people still call New York "the Big Apple"? That seems like it might be a '70s thing, like grafitti, unwelcome windshield cleaning, and Al Pacino.)

Poisoned Tears

{Your intro}, author J.H. Bográn, whose latest book, Murder to the Metal, came out this last year...

The ever-changing language barrier

One of the most difficult battles in my writing career has been the language barrier. Early on, I decided to write in English when Spanish was, and remains, my native language. Although I didn't see it that way when it happened so many years ago, the reasons for choosing the foreign language are the same to those of men and women in Latin America who travel, sometimes illegally, to the U.S. The fact is that reaching the American Dream has reached outside of the North American borders, and thus, I wanted to become a writer with a world renowned publisher, one in New York City preferably. In my young man's bravado I figured all I had to do was write in English. A very simple plan, right?

I had learned this second language out of necessity. It is, after all, the business language of the world. At nineteen, I was blessed with a job that turned into a career where I had to speak and write in English for about 8-12 hours every day. Then there was the reading. Every one of those early customers I attended presented me with books, used paperbacks, even some old hardcovers. That's the time when I discovered Robert Ludlum, Tom Clancy, Ken Follett and Clive Cussler. I got proficient, and people from the North kept telling me I was really good at speaking too, even emulating accents. Match those praises with the desire to put ideas on writing and you have a recipe for publishing dreams.

I started my first novel in 1998 and made the rookie mistake of showing it to people who cared for me and didn't want to break my heart so while not openly praising the work, they gently encouraged me to try harder. I can't help but wonder if a person who disliked me would have helped me improve faster.

The road hasn't been easy and I have a collection of rejection letters to those awful early drafts to prove it. The second best thing that has helped me improve my craft has been the support of native speakers willing to go through hell correcting the typos that would spring out of nowhere as they tried to navigate through my stories.

I will not claim I am master of the language now, but at least I have enough writing friends who could show me the mistakes and help me make the necessary corrections. One of those friends even claims she can now concentrate more on the plot or character developments of the story as grammar mistakes have drastically reduced.

PS: In case you're wondering, the very best thing I've done is investing in hefty tomes from the likes of Merriam-Webster and Oxford English dictionaries.

Thanks Go To

SO many people.

My publisher and publicity team for organizing the Get Wicked tour. I got to walk into bookstores where every chair was filled and the booksellers had to drag in extras. (Awesome book club, Towne Book Center!) At one bookstore, I signed copies till my hand ached (Go, Bethany Beach Bookstore!) The tickets sold out at Girls Night Out at Sparta Books!

Reviewers at the Big Thrill, AP, Suspense Magazine, Bookreporter, the Strand.

Book bloggers—one of whom, Suzy Approved, came out to my event at RJ Julia!

But mostly, to all of you dear, beloved readers.

I have this dream where I spot someone at the beach (or a grocery store line or Target, since I don't tend to get to beaches very often, um, except for when my publisher sent me to this wicked cool inn following an event) and she or he is reading one of my books. So I walk back and forth for a while until the person looks up, then looks down at my author photo, puts it together, and asks me if I wrote the book. Or has me arrested for stalking.

Nothing is ever sure in this crazy business. Well, maybe just one thing. It gives me a bolt of joy to connect with all of you, hearing that my heroine's strength in the book made you feel like you could tackle some demons of your own. Or, you know, made you vow never to go outside again. That's good too.

These stories I write? They're for you.