John Grisham Novels Based on Things that "Really, Really Happened"?

Now, I don't think Ive read everything that John Grisham's written, but I have read a fair amount. His books make for an entertaining airplane read, as evidenced by the fact that my husband refers to all of them as The Business Traveler.

"What are you reading, honey?"

"John Grisham's The Business Traveler. I picked it up at O'Hare."

But. As a lawyer and a sentient human being, I have to wonder about a quote Grisham gave to the Yale Daily News, in which he says that his novels "go back to something that really, really happened." What I presume he means is that they have as their seed a nugget of something that could conceivably happen. To wit: In The Firm, our hero eventually brings down the bad guys by giving the feds evidence that the partners have been padding their bills, which amounted to mail fraud. This was clever and believable. Less believable were the mounting body count, firm-arranged liasion with a prostitute on a Caribbean island, and the $10 million or so dollars the young attorney escapes with at the end.

Is this a bad thing? Of course not. Trust me, a book about what really happens in the practice of law would be titled The Insomniac's Companion.

Hilarious McSweeney's List

I sent out some queries this morning, in which I use the phrase "taut legal thriller," so I googled it and hit upon this gem from McSweeney's. Titles Still Available for Taut, Fast-Paced Legal Thrillers.

I can't decide which I like better, Approach the Bench or Continuance Granted.

An Elegant Solution

Well, it's been a while since I've blogged. In part, the radio silence was the result of the holiday madness; in part, the reality that I am the only one reading this, so I can simply think my incredibly deep thoughts and not write them down; and, in part, the fact that I cannot find enough time to write.

Having finished my practice book and relegated it to the dusty corners of a flash drive, I started my WIP in early December. I know where I want to go with it but . . . each and every time I sit down and open the file, some electromagnetic pulse must alert my sons to the fact that mommy is about to start writing. They appear out of nowhere and need me urgently to settle a dispute, put someone down for a nap, make them a snack, you name it. Even if they're SLEEPING---I open the file and BOOM! Awake, needy children materialize.

So, I could hardly justify using my meager writing time posting on a blog read only by me.

Why, then am I here? Ah, I have hit upon a solution that is elegant in its simplicity. Just like an elegant solution in science or math, I can now achieve my maximum desired effect with the simplest effort. Have I auctioned off the children on eBay? I have not. Moved out? Nope. I am writing the first draft in longhand. You know, with a pen and paper.

My output has skyrocketed since I decided to start carrying around a 99-cent notebook. I can be in the same room as the kids (who, at 2 and 4, really don't want to play with me, but just want me around) and can scribble away. Writing while lifeguarding during bath time? Check. In the car? Check (so long as the beloved husband is driving). While waiting for the cookies in the oven to bake? Check.

Now, I thought the drawback here would be the inefficiency of writing everything down and then typing it out, but it turns out, I automatically do a light-to-moderate edit while I word process it. If a phrase jars me or I spot an error, I just correct it as I go along. I figure this is actually more efficient than composing at the keyboard.

I am most pleased.

Untold Riches!

Today is my birthday, and in addition to extreme cuteness courtesy of A and J, not to mention an afternoon of leisure courtesy of my Most Beloved Husband, I have been gifted with a Borders gift card.

We've been hitting the library pretty frequently (at least once or twice each week), so I have been plowing through my TBR list with wild abandon, but now I need to pull up short and decide: What books shall I BUY? To have and to hold, for better or worse, until I donate them in a cleaning frenzy some day in the distant future.

One book is an easy call: the new Malcolm Gladwell. I almost broke down and bought it yesterday at BJs. But the rest? Not sure. The rest will almost certainly be fiction, but this will require some thought.

And, of course, if anyone happens to be reading this, recommendations would be much appreciated!

Off to break up a wrestling session on my kitchen floor!

Creating a Sense of Menace

Today (after a much-protested detour through the Starbucks' drive through for myself), I took the boys to the playground and then the library. It's dry and sunny here, but the temperature is in the low 50s, so the playground wasn't packed. Just a handful of diehards.

After some time in the sandbox, the boys decided to move over to the big slide. With so few kids around, they saw their chance to use the equipment without being pushed around by the older kids. Everything went swimmingly. The slide is wide enough that they raced down it side by side, and I drank my venti coffee in peace.

And then.

Two preteen-to-young-teen boys silently appeared behind my two and four year old on the wooden structure. They were probably twelve or thirteen. Both in full Halloween costume. One dressed in a red hooded cape with knife that he showed me by dramatically lifting his cape. The other in a black hooded cape, wearing a gold mask and carrying a machete.

I assumed the weapons were fake, but even as I did so, my heart jumped at the sight of them materializing behind my little ones.

Momness trumped and I sharply said, "Not cool. They're too little." The black-caped kid took off his mask and the red-caped one hid his knife before my boys turned and saw them. And thank all higher beings for that, because the freakout that would have ensued if A and J had seen them would have been without equal.

After that, they engaged in a few half-hearted attempts to try to scare me (pretending their weapons were real, etc.), but they actually played nicely with my boys. That, and the fact that their first instinct was to obey an adult stranger erased the menace that I felt at first.

But, man, was it ever creepy. As we left the playground, viewing them from a distance trying to scare some girls brought it back.

I wish I could create that feeling so easily on the page!

Busy, Busy

It's hard to believe October is half over. The last six weeks have been nonstop activity around here--both boys' birthdays, our anniversary, several day trips on the weekends, work---with no sign of letting up any time soon.

Writing continues apace. And, I'm starting to throw some things out there to see what happens.

Everyone in the cyberworld seems to have entered Nathan Bransford's first paragraph contest, me included.

My entry is from a short story (IN HIS PANTS) that I've been working on long-hand during car trips. Pause to thank the wonderful husband for doing all the driving.

Here's the paragraph:

**********************************************************************************

Coffee, Please said...

She never would have known if Brad had just emptied his pockets before throwing his jeans on the laundry room floor. But he hadn't; he never did. So, Molly was in the habit of checking the pockets before putting his pants in the washer. She always found something. Change, usually---but sometimes his car keys, the access card to his office, credit card receipts, and, once, a check for five hundred dollars that his aunt had given them as an engagement present.

*********************************************************************************************

I think the contest is nearing 2000 entries---and there's still a day and a half left before it ends! It's been fun reading other people's paragraphs.

I also submitted the first 250 words of FRUIT OF THE POISONOUS TREE in the October Secret Agent Contest on Miss Snark's First Victim's blog. I am looking forward to getting some critiques on the revamped opening.

And, last but not least, I have another short story that's going to go out today for submission.

On Diving In

We are in the middle of Week Two of fall swim classes for the boys. A turns 4 on Thursday, and J turned 2 at the beginning of the month, so "swim class" is a bit of an overstatement. It's really a course to acclimate the little ones to water, so mom and dad get in the pool, too.

The instructor stresses the importance of parents jumping right in, regardless of water temperature; the idea is, the kids will follow suit. As a dyed-in-the-wool toe tester, this goes against my nature, but I've been forcing myself to do it. By the way, that water is bracing, to say the least, but the idea does work. After the parents jump in (no comments about the water being "cold" permitted---it's "refreshing"), the little ones are right behind us.

The writing-related point is that I am forcing myself to do it in my writing, too. I'm revising THE POISONOUS TREE and am getting close to being ready to send out queries. Instead of pulling back and slowing down, I've decided it's time to jump right in, so to speak.

This morning, I joined Sisters in Crime AND registered for Crime Bake.

So, while I'm not sure how much A and J are getting out of Baby Bubblers, it's been great for me!