At Bouchercon a few years ago, a huge mystery conference, I met a very successful mystery author. I looked her up afterward, and she had a list of well-received books that I envied. She was waiting for the reviews of her newest book, and she was a nervous wreck--biting her fingernails and twitching. I checked a few weeks later, and the reviews were fine, very positive. It was a puzzle. With her track record, what was there to fear?
Now I understand. When my first zoo mystery, Night Kill, was ready to hit the shelves, I learned what an anxiety attack was all about. Public speaking? Job interview? Getting married? Nah, if you want panic, publish a book. At least if you are me. Visions of humiliation, public contempt, vicious attacks on my writing, plot, and zoo information arose vivid and unbidden. I slept poorly and contemplated changing my name and moving to Belize.
I shoulda seen it comin'. This whole author gig is an emotional roller coaster. Writing is a joy. Then come the rejection letters. But at last, an agent! Whoopee! But can she sell the book? Ah, yes--more rejection. The book sells! Whee! Oops, then it gets published... And so it goes. It's exhausting. But maybe that's part of what I'm in the game for. I'm not one for boredom.
I saved all the reviews of Night Kill, even the bad ones, and recently re-read them. Turns out the bad ones weren't so bad and the good ones were really nice. (Take a peek at those nice ones here.) I'd forgotten most of the positive comments but remembered every one of the negative observations. Go figure.
Now I'm at it again. Did Not Survive is due out in late July. No reviews yet from the big guys: Publishers Weekly, Kirkus, Library Journal, or Foreword. Will they love it? Will the rest of the world love it? Will animal rights activists picket my house? How much property can I afford in Belize?
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Take that, human person!
Some days, all you can do is stick your tongue out.
Oakland Zoo, picture by Nancy Parker
Monday, May 31, 2010
Mystery Review: Thirty-Three Teeth
I've been neglecting the writing and mystery side of this blog and decided to start incorporating the occasional mystery review. (Thanks to friend Evan Lewis for jabbing me in the ribs about this!)
I've just finished Thirty-Three Teeth by Colin Cotterill, Soho Crime, and I'm here to rave. This is the second in this series and is set in, of all places, Laos in the 1970's, not long after the Communists took over. Yes, it's got animal characters that qualify it for this blog, especially an old, abused Asian bear (non-spoiler: happy ending for bear).
I've been fascinated by Southeast Asia since my son lived in Cambodia (five long years) and a visit there in 2003, but I've never been to Laos. It's reputation among the ex-pats in Cambodia was that Laos was unspoiled, beautiful, and cheaper than Cambodia (and that's pretty darn cheap).
Thirty-Three Teeth pulls you into Laos without a trace of lecture or preaching: climate, geography, history, cultural conflicts, psychology, day-to-day living, and so on. The protagonist is the National Coroner, Dr. Siri, with supporting roles from his young female assistant, a policeman friend, a shaman, and a good many others. The plot is loosely-woven threads of untimely deaths, some of them connected, some not, all of them eventually deciphered by the good Dr. Siri and his friends.
Here's the remarkable thing. Thirty-Three Teeth is pure fun. The dialog made me laugh more than any mystery I've read in the last two years. The villains are corrupt bunglers, the heroes are tired, sweaty, smart, and kind. This is not a mystery full of clues with a tricky plot, nor is it a thriller about desperate CIA agents prepared to kill in the course of espionage. It is grounded in every day reality in a distant, strange land where spirits must be taken seriously, where people are figuring out what it means to live under an officious and ineffectual communist government, where scarcity is a way of life. And, somehow, it is delightful, smart, and open-hearted.
The first in the series is The Coroner's Lunch and there are four others.
Side note: Cotterill has a literacy project going for Laos. I can attest to the problems around kids' books in SE Asia. We tried to buy Khmer language comic books for my son's housekeeper. We finally found some in one of the two tiny bookstores in Phnom Penh. The pair cost the same as a week's salary for her, and she was well paid by local standards. A week's salary for two comic books? Yup. So kids aren't going to get reading material unless someone helps. Take a look at the link. A few dollars will go a long way.
I've just finished Thirty-Three Teeth by Colin Cotterill, Soho Crime, and I'm here to rave. This is the second in this series and is set in, of all places, Laos in the 1970's, not long after the Communists took over. Yes, it's got animal characters that qualify it for this blog, especially an old, abused Asian bear (non-spoiler: happy ending for bear).
I've been fascinated by Southeast Asia since my son lived in Cambodia (five long years) and a visit there in 2003, but I've never been to Laos. It's reputation among the ex-pats in Cambodia was that Laos was unspoiled, beautiful, and cheaper than Cambodia (and that's pretty darn cheap).
Thirty-Three Teeth pulls you into Laos without a trace of lecture or preaching: climate, geography, history, cultural conflicts, psychology, day-to-day living, and so on. The protagonist is the National Coroner, Dr. Siri, with supporting roles from his young female assistant, a policeman friend, a shaman, and a good many others. The plot is loosely-woven threads of untimely deaths, some of them connected, some not, all of them eventually deciphered by the good Dr. Siri and his friends.
Here's the remarkable thing. Thirty-Three Teeth is pure fun. The dialog made me laugh more than any mystery I've read in the last two years. The villains are corrupt bunglers, the heroes are tired, sweaty, smart, and kind. This is not a mystery full of clues with a tricky plot, nor is it a thriller about desperate CIA agents prepared to kill in the course of espionage. It is grounded in every day reality in a distant, strange land where spirits must be taken seriously, where people are figuring out what it means to live under an officious and ineffectual communist government, where scarcity is a way of life. And, somehow, it is delightful, smart, and open-hearted.
The first in the series is The Coroner's Lunch and there are four others.
Side note: Cotterill has a literacy project going for Laos. I can attest to the problems around kids' books in SE Asia. We tried to buy Khmer language comic books for my son's housekeeper. We finally found some in one of the two tiny bookstores in Phnom Penh. The pair cost the same as a week's salary for her, and she was well paid by local standards. A week's salary for two comic books? Yup. So kids aren't going to get reading material unless someone helps. Take a look at the link. A few dollars will go a long way.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Clicker training demonstration
Thanks to an ex-zookeeper friend, I learned about this great little video showing clicker training with a dog and then at Franklin Park Zoo. (I saw that griffon vulture! I put her picture in a blog!)
It's also an ad for Karen Pryor's book, but it's really good for a basic understanding of modern animal training and how broad the application is--also how kind and fun it is compared to other methods of getting animals to cooperate. Take a look.
http://www.clickertraining.com/node/2541
It's also an ad for Karen Pryor's book, but it's really good for a basic understanding of modern animal training and how broad the application is--also how kind and fun it is compared to other methods of getting animals to cooperate. Take a look.
http://www.clickertraining.com/node/2541
Monday, May 3, 2010
A mashup: mysteries, zoo keeping, perfume
My friend Angie is in my mystery writers group and also writes a perfume blog. Add it all up and you get Perfume and Enrichment: Not Just for Tigers Check it out!
Technorati Tags:
zoo mysteries, perfume, tigers, zoo keeping
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A visit to Oakland Zoo
We're all going to DIE!!
I was in Oakland a few weeks ago and had the opportunity to visit the zoo with my sister (the one who takes much better photos than I do). The day was sunny and many of the exhibits were spacious and well-planted. Lots of families with kids.
My sister is also braver than I and talked me into taking the tram. Just the right amount of scary, and a nice way to see the place. This is a smallish zoo, but the exhibits are mostly spacious and grassy. Here's some shots.
Blue and Gold Macaw, by Nancy Parker
The males of our native wild turkey have that tuft of feathers, but this may be an exotic species.
Big old eland. I love these guys.
I was surprised to see such a strong statement against circuses with elephants. Sorry if this is too small to read. Circus elephants are chained when they aren't performing and spend their days "on the road." In some cases, the training is very harsh. Not the greatest life. My second zoo mystery, Did Not Survive (due out in July), touches on some of these issues.
Back on the ground, safe and sound.
Technorati Tags:
Oakland zoo, elephants in circuses, zoo mystery, Did Not Survive
Puppy Trains Author!
I've long admired what positive reinforcement (clicker training, behavior modification) can accomplish, and I've tried putting it into practice with the not-so-new-anymore puppy. With the basic principles in mind, I've kept an eye on consequences. When he does what I want, good things usually happen. Take, for example, getting ready for a walk. Once his brain recovers from the ecstasy of anticipation, he can and does "sit" to have the leash put on, which requires no food reward, just leaving the house. First thing in the morning, he must go outside and pee before he is allowed back in the house. (You can imagine why this rule is necessary, especially when it's raining.)
The most fun is "circus dog." After dinner, I bring out the dried liver treats and we go through his tricks. I don't use a clicker, just "good dog" and then a tiny treat. He is totally into it, alert and eager. We rocket through "sit", "down", "speak", "shake hands". At risk of sounding disloyal, I should clarify that this is not a dog that Mensa will be recruiting. "Sit" came easy and so did "down" (meaning to lie down), with separate hand signals. But to go from "down" back up to "sit" was incomprehensible. "Sit" meant put your butt down. If you were in "down" your butt was already down, so what could "sit" possibly mean then? Bafflement. Eventually we clarified that the front end mattered also and that hoisting it up could be part of "sit". Whatever. Humans are so strange... (I suspect he is still foggy on the concept and just trying the most promising positions until I produce the treat.)
An even more challenging task has been for him to climb onto a little foot stool and sit there. It's less than a foot high, but he was initially horrified when I picked him up and set him down on it. Too weird. Unnatural. Possibly dangerous. No way. I'd just taught him that the stool was scary. My screw-up made this a great situation for me to compare to training wild animals, who are far more cautious than domestic ones.
We started over. I didn't pick him up and set him on the stool anymore. Instead, treats appeared on the stool. Hummm, nice. Next, he found that if he put a forefoot on the stool, he got a treat. Well, that wasn't so bad either. Next was two front feet. Then I provided a boost to get the rear end up. There he was, sitting on the stool, and, my, that was worth a LOT of liver treats. And speak and shake hands worked on the stool, who would have thought? Even more treats! Tonight he discovered that he could get his own butt up on the stool, and, woot! woot! what a payoff! Fan-freakin-tastic! The stool rocks!
I am totally chuffed. It's a little dog and a simple-enough task, but I feel a warm kinship with those talented people who convince rhinos to volunteer for blood draws and elephants to stand still for artificial insemination and orangutans to let their baby take a bottle through the mesh. It's all about one step at a time with the right reward. Okay, it's more subtle than that, and I'll be the first to admit I barely qualify as a beginner. But still. This stuff works! And it's fun, fun for me and fun for a bored dog. No scolding, no force, just a sweet deal. With a rowdy game of tug-o-war afterward.
Karen Pryor seems to be good at this. Try her website. Let me know what you think.
Technorati Tags:
husbandry training, dog training, clicker training
The most fun is "circus dog." After dinner, I bring out the dried liver treats and we go through his tricks. I don't use a clicker, just "good dog" and then a tiny treat. He is totally into it, alert and eager. We rocket through "sit", "down", "speak", "shake hands". At risk of sounding disloyal, I should clarify that this is not a dog that Mensa will be recruiting. "Sit" came easy and so did "down" (meaning to lie down), with separate hand signals. But to go from "down" back up to "sit" was incomprehensible. "Sit" meant put your butt down. If you were in "down" your butt was already down, so what could "sit" possibly mean then? Bafflement. Eventually we clarified that the front end mattered also and that hoisting it up could be part of "sit". Whatever. Humans are so strange... (I suspect he is still foggy on the concept and just trying the most promising positions until I produce the treat.)
An even more challenging task has been for him to climb onto a little foot stool and sit there. It's less than a foot high, but he was initially horrified when I picked him up and set him down on it. Too weird. Unnatural. Possibly dangerous. No way. I'd just taught him that the stool was scary. My screw-up made this a great situation for me to compare to training wild animals, who are far more cautious than domestic ones.
We started over. I didn't pick him up and set him on the stool anymore. Instead, treats appeared on the stool. Hummm, nice. Next, he found that if he put a forefoot on the stool, he got a treat. Well, that wasn't so bad either. Next was two front feet. Then I provided a boost to get the rear end up. There he was, sitting on the stool, and, my, that was worth a LOT of liver treats. And speak and shake hands worked on the stool, who would have thought? Even more treats! Tonight he discovered that he could get his own butt up on the stool, and, woot! woot! what a payoff! Fan-freakin-tastic! The stool rocks!
I am totally chuffed. It's a little dog and a simple-enough task, but I feel a warm kinship with those talented people who convince rhinos to volunteer for blood draws and elephants to stand still for artificial insemination and orangutans to let their baby take a bottle through the mesh. It's all about one step at a time with the right reward. Okay, it's more subtle than that, and I'll be the first to admit I barely qualify as a beginner. But still. This stuff works! And it's fun, fun for me and fun for a bored dog. No scolding, no force, just a sweet deal. With a rowdy game of tug-o-war afterward.
Karen Pryor seems to be good at this. Try her website. Let me know what you think.
Technorati Tags:
husbandry training, dog training, clicker training
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