Thursday, November 15, 2018

Because I Write "Humorous Cozies":

Because I write "humorous cozies":

  • People are surprised when I say, "Fuck."
  • Some people think I'm a gender other than the one I am (which is fine).
  • There are those who assume I'm good at knitting, or something.
  • No review of a book I wrote will ever include the words "shattering," "gripping," "intense" or "important."
  • People are generally very gracious when they recognize my name.
  • Readers ask when my books will be adapted by the Hallmark Channel.
  • I'm often asked if Louise Penny is nice (she's lovely--we've never met).
  • I am occasionally asked (online) which Disney princess I believe I am. (Sneezy.)
  • When I was in chemo, I received many knitted hats. (Thank you!)
  • Everybody wants to know if I believe in ghosts (that's specific to the Haunted Guesthouse books).
  • Once in a while someone will look at me and go, "Say something funny." (And when I reply, "Something funny," they don't look amused. You can't please some people.)
  • I will never be mentioned in the New York Times Book Review.
  • My name will never be bigger than the title. (Which is perfectly okay with me.)
  • People are equally surprised when I say, "Shit."
  • Some bookstores will place my books in the Romance section. I mean, fine, but... ?
  • There are those who will be unprepared for my characters to have actual emotions.
  • I have been gifted with a career by lovely people who like my books. (BIG thank you!)

Sunday, October 28, 2018

I Am a Jew

I am a Jew.

Some of you might not have known that. Some of you probably did. I'm hoping it doesn't make a difference to either group.

But the horrific, unconscionable act that took place yesterday in Pittsburgh makes it important that I make the point clear. I am a Jew. I'm not an observant one, not even a faithful one. I am, honestly, an atheist and have been open about that for some time. But being Jewish isn't all about attending temple or even believing the teachings other than some principles that make sense to us. We pick and choose as all people do, what we decide is right and what is not.

What happened yesterday is, by any measurement, not. It was absolutely outside the behavior of a civilized society. It was cruel, pointless and driven by an irrational hate. It was something no person should ever have to face. No person of any religion, no religion, any race or any background. No person. Period.

But I am a Jew, and have been especially the past couple of years concerned with what that means to me. There are those who consider us a separate race, however one defines a race. When I am confronted with the question of race on surveys or forms, I hesitate to check "white" and usually go with "other." When asked to be more specific, I write, "would rather not say."

My daughter teaches students in the New York City school system, and they often express curiosity about her ethnic background; it's a common way especially for first-generation students to establish an understanding of their teachers and their peers.

One of her students asked my daughter about her heritage, and my daughter replied, "I'm Jewish, so I guess white."

Her student, who is African-American, shook her head. "The white people won't think so," she said.

From the time we are small children we are taught, directly and otherwise, that we are "different." Many of us don't take part in Christmas celebrations at school. I remember clearly being asked to explain to my classmates the story of Passover when I was perhaps seven years old. I probably threw Superman into it because I was very big on Superman when I was seven.

There is considerable pride in being the outsider sometimes. I am not at all timid about my family's roots. My grandparents, three of whom came to America from Europe as children, did not consider themselves Russians, Poles or Austrians. They were Jews. Where they came from didn't define them in the eyes of those they lived with, or their own eyes. The identity was clear.

I have always seen myself as an American. I was born here to parents who were born here. I don't speak a language other than English, although the Italian lessons on Duolingo are starting to sink in a little. I asked my father once to teach me to speak some Yiddish. He gave me a phonograph record for children teaching the language and I don't think I've ever played it.

We're always aware that there are people who hate us for being Jews. It's hard to fathom that, as my ethnic background has never defined me in my own mind, and I'm aware that we're not trying to threaten anybody else's beliefs or ethnicity. But it's undeniable that some simply want us to disappear, and if we won't do it on our own they are happy to help. It's been tried before and at times has come close to succeeding, but we persevere.

The attack yesterday has caused me to rethink my point of view. I will check "other" and then explain my answer less vaguely from now on, I guess. If the world insists on seeing my ethnicity first and everything else second, I can work with that. But what happened yesterday can't be permitted to happen again. Action must be taken. The complicity of public officials in the blind, stupid violence against any group must not continue. Those responsible for the mindset behind the sick, awful man who walked into that synagogue have to be held accountable and removed from their offices as quickly as possible.

I am a Jew. When I meet you, I won't be thinking about that. Whether or not you do is your own choice.

Monday, October 15, 2018

A Political Screed (With No Politics Included)

Politics, anyone?

I didn't think so. We've all had politics up to our eyeballs (and above, for those of us under 5'10") for years now, and it's showing no signs of letting up. No matter which side of the virtual aisle you might inhabit, there's been plenty to drive you bonkers for quite some time.

Those who know me even fairly well understand that I have very definite political opinions, which I am not shy about sharing. Sometimes I share them through my social media accounts, which I promise myself I will not do and then immediately break that promise. It's like the idea of dieting.

As an author, I'm naturally aware that the more people who buy my books the better off I will be personally. That's no small thing--this is my full-time job and I'd like to keep it for as long as I can. Those who will stop reading E.J. Copperman books because my politics disagree with theirs have every right to do so, but I need to be aware that their decision to do so will cost me directly.

So it's a difficult conundrum: On the one hand, we are clearly a divided nation (and world) at the moment and that does not seem like it will heal itself anytime in the foreseeable future. The stakes are indeed high, and not speaking out seems like a cowardly thing to do. One either has principles or one doesn't. On the other hand, if one doesn't have a source of income (or has a smaller one than before), one's possibilities are more limited. Besides, I want people to read my books. It's not something you do because you'd prefer nobody would take a look.

I know that I've offended some people with my statements politically. Probably not a lot of people but certainly some. I'm aware that I've had some readers turn off my Twitter feed or my Facebook posts because we disagree. And I'm no saint, either: I have unfriended a few whose posts had become, to my sensibility, infuriating. I will scrutinize the Likes and newsfeed of a friend request carefully.

Rest assured I'm not asking you to do anything at all. I'm not asking for advice about whether I should continue to share political opinions publicly. I know that from a marketing viewpoint I should not but I'm equally aware that won't stop me. I'm not asking you to change your political opinion if it differs with mine. We each think the issues are so clear it's ridiculous anyone would believe otherwise. So no minds will be changed. I'm not even suggesting you don't turn off my feed if it irritates you enough. I can't insist someone do something I wouldn't do.

It's more that I want you to know I understand if you disagree. I don't necessarily understand why but I definitely get what it's like. I have stopped listening to some musicians, watching some actors and shopping in some stores because I had serious disagreements with their positions. If you don't buy my books anymore, I'll understand. I'll regret it, but that's the price one pays.

I hope you won't. I'd like to make that clear. I'd like everyone to read everything I write and not just for financial reasons. It's nice to get feedback on the work.

But these are unique times. Pretending they aren't would be lying, and I try to avoid that whenever possible. Feel free to disagree. That's what an open society is supposed to be about.

Sorry. Was that too political?

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Get a copy of WRITTEN OFF (almost entirely) FREE!

Okay, here's the deal: I'm giving away 20 copies (yes, 20!) of the mass market edition of WRITTEN OFF, the first Mysterious Detective Mystery. In order to get one, all you need to do is Message me, give me your mailing address and agree to pay the postage ($2.65) for Media Mail delivery via PayPal ONLY--be careful about that. That's it. Once 20 people have done so, I'll mail them out and see how many I have left. These things are taking over my house. So get in touch!

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

What's Going On. Today.

So here's where we stand right now:

Right at this moment, on Wednesday, July 18, 2018, I have no current book contracts. None. Zero. Nary a one. Which is interesting, because not that long ago I had four series going at the same time. Those, apparently, were the days.

Now, my extremely talented and dedicated agent Josh Getzler is working on alleviating this appalling circumstance, but until that happens there isn't anything I have an obligation to write aside from the occasional newspaper piece. I'll start teaching again in September, so there's that (which requires more reading than writing), but right now... nothin'.

I know what you're shouting at your screen: 1. Stop whining! You've already had 24 books published! You know how many people don't get one? 2. Just write something for yourself, something you've always wanted to write. Oh, and stop whining.

You're right with both comments (although you might have phrased them a little more charitably). But here's the thing about each: I do this for a living, and while I am inexpressibly grateful for the good fortune I've had publishing books, I need to keep doing so in order to put gas in the Prius. (Even though it uses much less than other cars.) So this waiting period while the noble Mr. G. works on my behalf is excruciating exactly because of its unpredictability. I honestly don't know where my next paycheck is coming from.

As for writing something on spec that I've always wanted to write, I'm reminded of a story Harpo Marx (really Rowland Barber, but Harpo was in on it) told in his autobiography Harpo Speaks!, which is really good and should be read by all.

Harpo was friends with Alexander Woollcott, the famous theater critic, essayist, radio host and you-name-it in society in the 1920s through 40s. And Woollcott liked to mix up the people he knew, so he invited Harpo to a party Woollcott was hosting which was attended by George Bernard Shaw. Woollcott probably thought it would be funny to see the two such different men be uncomfortable in each other's presence.

Instead, Harpo and Shaw hit it off very well, so much so that at lunch (I think) that day Harpo felt he could ask Shaw, who had not written in some time, why he wasn't working on another play.

The table fell silent and Shaw's piercing eyes looked straight at Harpo. There was a pregnant pause until Shaw asked, "Got any ideas?" and the place burst into laughter.

That's the thing with me right now. I have some ideas, but I'm not crazy about any of them. I've started two books and haven't written on either of them in days. They're just not hitting the spot, and if I'm not interested in the stories, you can bet your last dime you won't be interested in them, either. No really good book has ever been written when the author didn't care.

So that's the state of affairs here at Castle Copperman these days. It's a temporary state I'm certain, but while it goes on it's making me just a little more crazy than usual. The only thing more torturous than writing, it turns out, is not writing.

Oh and P.S.: No, we don't have any current contracts for audiobooks. It's not our choice, but we (and by "we" I mean the aforementioned Mr. Getzler) are working on it. It's in good hands, but I have no news to impart at the moment. I'm touched so many people have been asking. Wish I had something to tell you.

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

1000 Words a Day. Except...

I have often said (bragged, some would assert) that I write 1,000 words every day. And that's almost completely true. I write 1,000 words every day--including weekends and holidays--when I'm working on a project. If I finish one I don't feel obligated to start another the next day. Sometimes I'll take a week off.

But not writing makes me anxious and cranky so the breaks don't last very long. One exception: I'm going on vacation at the end of this week and don't intend to write while I'm away. It'll be my longest break in probably five years at least.

That's not what I'm posting about today, though. What you read above was mostly a digression.

The thing about writing 1,000 words a day is that it seems like a goal but it can easily become a limit. Before I imposed that minimum on myself I would sometimes write all day long and produce who knows how many words. Other days I wouldn't write at all. The 1,000-word thing was meant to provide some order when I had a number of book contracts that all needed to be fulfilled and I wanted to be sure I wasn't falling badly behind.

So writing 1,000 words a day became very useful. In years when I was writing four books almost nonstop, it was essential to know where I was on any given day in terms of my obligations and when I would have to start the next project to get it finished on time. I have never missed a deadline and I am proud of that.

The problem, though, was that after it became a habit, writing 1,000 words a day became the goal and therefore the end point. So I would aim at writing exactly 1,000 words on any given day and stop sometimes in the middle of a sentence when I hit that mark.

Now I rarely write more than 1,000 words a day. Sometimes, when I have fewer obligations elsewhere, (or if I was forced to miss one day and have to catch up) I will go 2,000 words, but I never stop on a random number. It's writing in the thousands, usually one and occasionally two. A couple of weeks ago I wrote 3,000 words in a day and thought I had accomplished something on the level of  inventing gravity.

What I'm saying is: Don't set a goal and then let it rule your day. I'm working on writing at least 1,000 words a day but not caring if the number that I finish with at night is random. To keep writing until I don't feel like it or don't have the time anymore. But it's not easy because I've settled into this routine and it feels weird to break it. I'll get to a point where I can do what I aim to do, but it's not easy and it's not going to happen quickly. Maybe after the vacation I'll be ready to start on a different routine.

Your takeaway should be: Do as I say, not as I do.