No, not the Bible. A bible, but I’m not the one writing it. Let me explain.
 
Somewhere along the second draft of The Fifth Brother, Glynn and I started to realize how many people, locations and events are featured in the story. Three novellas in, our growing saga has over fifty named characters, four significant animals, and all sorts of action taking place in three different locations.  With several more tales to go, I began to wonder if we were doing a good job of keeping track of things.
 
I shared my vague-ish concerns with the Good Witch. She reminded me that people who write television series have the same type of worries. Then she did a very nice thing, finding me an actual series bible. (If you’d like to see one, too, go here.)  Series bibles/show bibles/story bibles are the way t.v.-people keep a show from going off the rails. I’d heard of such things, but the Freaks and Geeks PDF was the first time I’d actually seen one. I thought it was fun and interesting. Enlightening, even.
 
If the concept is still a little fuzzy to you, it goes like this: Series creators and show runners will often create a show bible before or, sometimes, after a television show goes into production. This written guideline allows them and their roomful of writers to keep track of a program’s characters, interests and interactions. Long-running shows update their bibles as the show proceeds. For example, the “Jerry Seinfeld” character of Seinfeld was famously a Superman fan. (Jerry: “I think Superman probably has a very good sense of humor.” George: “I never heard him say anything really funny.”) It would have jarred viewers if the television-version of Jerry had suddenly begun to reference a different comic book character. Say, someone like Deadpool. (Deadpool: “Shhh. My common sense is tingling.”)
 
So when I recently discovered that Glynn and I had described one of our minor characters as coming from Philadelphia – and then, in a later story, as coming from Boston – my common sense started tingling. In order for us to remain on top of all of the bits and pieces in the novellas we’re scribbling now and in the future, I decided one of us needed to write our very own story bible. On reflection, this sounded like a lot of work; I mean, the F & G bible is 55-pages long. Creating the Brothers Bible would likely be a time-consuming exercise. I didn't particularly want to do the job because, above all, I thought the task sounded boring.
  
I’ve never for a second thought that writing fiction was boring. Ever. Sometimes, it’s difficult and frustrating . Sometimes, it’s a struggle, and, on occasion, it leaves me doubting my abilities. But I am always engaged and interested.
 
I hate boring. You might think everyone hates “boring”, but this isn’t so. The Bad Witch advised her daughter to find a boring profession: “No one else will want to do it, and you’ll have job security.” That is possibly the worst career advice I’ve ever heard a parent give her child.
 
I knew the bible needed to be done, but it’s hard for anyone to do a chore well if they approach it with a sense of dread. Then Glynn, my sweet innocent partner, asked me if I'd thought about what I might want for Valentine’s Day. In that moment, I knew EXACTLY what I wanted.
 
When I told him, he smiled. I suspect he was worried that I’d want something new for the doll case, and he never knows exactly which one to get. He told me, “I’ll be delighted, my Valentine.”
 
I’m pretty happy about it, too.

I've recently returned from a long flight -- to see babies, and is there anything better? -- and I'm a little under the weather. Not all of the babies were healthy on my visit, and when you kiss and cuddle not-well babies, the odds are against you. Still, so worth it.
 
I'm a little tired but, in between baby enjoyment, Glynn and I managed to knock off our second, third and fourth draft of The Fifth Brother. We think it's ready for publication, however...tired or not, sick or not, it's time for me to find a beta reader for the manuscript. More than one, actually, if I'm so lucky.
 
I'll share my process with you. If you're looking for a beta reader, too, maybe it will help.
 
In the past, prior to pub, we've always found beta readers to give our words a final look. We've had some terrific beta readers, and we've always taken their suggestions to heart. We haven't always agreed with those suggestions, I'm not saying that, but some comments have led to major changes in what we've written. A good beta reader is gold.
 
This time, the challenge feels even harder than usual. Fifth Brother is our first sequel-to-a-sequel and, honestly, I wonder if anyone will be willing to give it a go. For this to happen, the story has to be complete in itself. That's not so easy when you're in part three of a six or seven part series. (Glynn says six parts. I say seven. Or eight. It's still under discussion.) One Bride tells of Flora's beginning and how she got into her particularly messy situation. The Sixth Brother introduces her to the brave, new world of Victorian-era Washington state, and explains what she plans to do to get out of her situation, before everything goes sideways.
 
In short, in order to understand the newest novella, the beta reader has to already know STUFF. So we wrote a Before the Beginning section, a bit revised from the first sequel, and offered our imaginary first-time reader an overview on what had happened beforehand. The preface doesn't explain any of the finer story details, and it's completely lacking in romance or sexual tension, but it offers a page-long guideline to previous events. If I was new to the series and read the BtB opening, I think I could dig into the new tale and follow it easily. If I liked the novella, I'd probably want to pick up the earlier stories just to know how this craziness developed. Maybe some readers will; I hope so.
 
Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, today's challenge: finding beta readers.
 
To track down these elusive creatures, I've done one of three things in the past. One time, I paid a professional to beta read one of our upcoming novels. Because this was the first time I'd ever paid for a read, I hoped she'd provide some brilliant insights or offer some telling commentary. In hindsight, it was a completely unrealistic expectation and, no surprise, things didn't work out that way. The reader was very nice, she provided a couple of pages of commentary when she returned the manuscript, mostly pointing out how much she liked the heroine and hated the villains. She didn't offer any suggestions for changes but she caught a misspelled word. (Glynn and I have read too many British novels. We keep using their spelling.) The paid read was a pleasant experience but not a revealing one.
 
I found more opinionated readers after I joined the Goodreads Beta Reader Group. You can, too, if you choose -- here. Last time I checked, there were 6000+ people in the group. It's a place where writers find readers and where, on occasion, I've contacted writers and acted as their reader. This pleases me because I'm terrible in all other aspects of Goodreads. I do no promotion, I skulk in the shadows of the groups I've joined, and I even fail to post reviews of novels I've loved. But if I'm actually going to participate in anything Goodreads, it will be with the Beta Reader Group.
 
I've also had success visiting the beta reader board at Absolute Write. You can, too, if you choose -- here. The forum is called, "Beta Readers, Mentors, and Writing Buddies", and I've been all three at various times. Some day in the future, remind me to tell you what went wrong with my mentor experience and why both of my writing buddies went away. Back to topic, there's a sticky at the top of the AW Beta Reader forum, entitled Willing Beta Readers Volume II, and you should start your own hunt at the last available page. That's where you'll find the latest posts and the most willing readers.
 
Well, it's time for me to swig some DayQuil and get to work. In the next week or so, I'll let you know how things go.

For years, Glynn asked for the same present for Christmas: the latest Dick Francis hardcover. But then the great Steeplechase jockey and world famous author passed away, not quite making his ninth decade, and things changed. “A Dick Francis Novel” is still published with some regularity – if I’d wanted to, I could have purchased Front Runner as Glynn’s gift this year – but the latest versions haven’t actually been written by the master himself. Mr. Francis’s son, Felix, has stepped up to the word processor and has, according to my sweetie, done a fine job. But wherever the difference lies between the two generations of wordsmiths, there is a difference, and Glynn no longer asks for the newest Francis’ book at the holiday.
 
So, while it’s a sadness whenever someone loses a favorite author, I wasn’t too concerned when it came to finding my sweetie a different hardcover on Christmas. He also enjoyed the Spenser and Virgil Cole novels by Robert B. Parker, so I thought I’d stuff his stocking with those (so to speak)…except that Mr. Parker happened to make his exit shortly after the loss of Mr. Francis, and now my guy had lost two of his go-to writers. Actually, he’d lost three of his favorites because Donald E. Westlake had left the mortal coil a couple of years before Francis and Parker were gone.
 
Do not ask Glynn about Don Westlake. He is sad to this minute that he can’t go onto Amazon and download a new story by the guy.
 
But, as for my holiday shopping, I was still feeling okay. In regards to gifting purposes only, I knew the amazing Elmore Leonard was still in place and doing stellar work. I was a little nervous, perhaps, and wondered why Glynn couldn’t have picked a favorite YOUNGER writer, perhaps someone closer to his own age, but I still planned to swipe my plastic at B & N when it came time to give a present. (An aside: Whenever I’m watching a movie with the Good Witch and a title card announces PRESENT DAY, she claps her hands and says, “We’re getting a present! What do you think it will be?” Now I say it, too. The present is usually a not very good movie. So silly.)
 
Until…well, Mr. Leonard celebrated 87 years, a good run by anyone’s account, but then he was gone. So in 2015, I had no easy to find, most likely satisfying, hardcover gift to offer my partner. Book-giving had become kind of a tradition by then, and I wasn’t in the mood to let it go. So I hinted around and Glynn pretended he didn’t notice where I was going with my questioning. He told me that maybe he should start reading Lawrence Block, again because he loved the writer’s Burglar series. That was the good news. Unfortunately, Block had quit writing that particular series in 2004 and, naturally, all of the existing stories were already on our bookshelves.
 
Except Glynn was wrong, as I discovered when I went over to LawrenceBlock.com. In 2013, Block brought his Burglar back in a collector’s edition, and that version never made it to our local bookstore. As Block mentioned on a blog post, “The true first edition was this signed-and-numbered hardcover, with Manny Schongut’s painting mounted on its gold-stamped dark green leather cover”, but classy stuff like this carries a hefty price tag. That is, it carried a hefty price tag in 2013. Two years later, LB needed to make room for new inventory and he offered a Christmas special on the book.
 
I took advantage of the offer. Glynn loved his gift.
 
Meanwhile, wandering through the various nooks of LB's website, I found some interesting tidbits about Mr. Block. He self-published the last Burglar novel, the one I bought, apparently for the fun of it. That’s one reason the book’s publication escaped Glynn’s radar. LB appears to enjoy the self-pubbed world, he’s doing more and more publishing under his own label, and that’s such a bold, fun move for a successful, best-selling writer. He writes a blog, at least as often as I do, he offers a newsletter, he has his own eBay store, he’s producing the German translations of one of his series, he's doing audio books, he's on Facebook, he has a YouTube channel…and he’s 77 years old.
 
A superstar, indeed. Now, if LB will just get his tush in gear and write and publish another Burglar novel before 12/25/16, I’ll be in good shape.

You may have noticed that this blog is appearing a little later than usual. This is partially because of the weather and partially because I’ve been so focused on completing The Fifth Brother that I hated to tear myself away from that project.
 
And it’s partially because I have a writing partner whose enthusiasm caused me to space for a few hours, forgetting that this is the day I usually post a few of my thoughts.
 
Let me start with the weather. Whether you believe in climate change or not, the skies have been a little wonky in our part of the world recently. Unexpectedly, it snowed last night. This morning, only one of us was home to shovel the driveway.
 
Glynn was not the one who was home.
 
Since our tiny car won’t make it up a snow-covered driveway – we don’t have a four-wheel drive; we have a slip-and-slide drive – I bundled up and started flinging snowflakes as soon as breakfast was done. An hour later, the concrete was finished, my back decided it was finished, and I put down the snow shovel to find some Advil.
 
The only thing that wasn’t finished was the sequel we’re writing so, aches and pains or not, I sat down to work on those pages. I was tinkering with the last chapter when I heard the garage door open.
 
Glynn came in, thanked me for the mostly-dry driveway, and announced he’d come up with the title for a future writing project. The title that he liked so much was Mother, May I Have Rough Sex with Danger?
 
Once more: Mother, May I Have Rough Sex with Danger? I know what you’re thinking, because I thought it, too.
 
When you hear a title like this, offered completely out of the blue, you have a moment where you wonder what exactly it is that the Pfizer boys put in their Advil. Not the anti-inflammatory, that’s a given, but do the ingredients also include some kind of hallucinogen? If someone swallows two tablets after shoveling snow for an hour, are they prone to hear voices? And what should that consumer do if that voice is saying crazy, messed up things?
 
Turns out, the voice I was hearing thought he made perfect sense. Glynn told me, “I heard it on the radio, coming home. There’s this old TV-movie called, Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?, and James Franco is remaking it next year. The minute I heard the news, I knew we had to do our take on the story.”
 
“Have you ever seen the original television film?” I asked.
 
“Well, no. But with that title, it has to be hilarious.”
 
If you’ve seen the classic version of MMISWD, you’re one up on me, because I’d never seen it. Stopping what I was doing, I went on-line to the usual sources. I found out a bunch of stuff, except for the most important thing of all. In the film, does Tori Spelling actually say, “Mother, may I sleep with danger?”
 
If you know, tell me. I would so love it if she did.
 
I was pleased to see that the story started out in written form as a suspense thriller. Claire Rainwater Jacobs was clever enough to tag her book with that eye-catching title, and the title did its job. It found a readership, a producer soon snatched up the broadcast rights, and NBC was only too happy to offer the final product. Ratings weren’t too bad, either. Variety offers its review here.
 
(SPOILER ALERT: Tori falls for a guy, but the new boyfriend causes her mother’s spider senses to tingle. And with good reason. END OF SPOILER ALERT.)
 
Once Glynn found out the original story wasn’t a parody romance, his enthusiasm faded. He wanted to write a comedy, but we haven’t had good luck with those in the past. The last parody piece we wrote received good reviews, had almost no sales, and has fallen nearly out of sight on the Amazon sales chart. Even the out-of-print MMISW hardcover by Claire Rainwater is ranking higher.
 
Oh, look. Snow is falling again. This time, it’s Glynn’s job.