Publicly Private

By Peg Brantley

I have always been one of those people who will tell anyone just about anything about me because I truly love to connect. I think the more we know and share about each other, the more we'll find common ground and will be able to build a lifelong relationship. The ideas of keeping secrets and holding your cards close to your vest have been very difficult for me to incorporate into my daily routine. In fact, I generally don't. Just ask my husband.

This is a scary world. I was shocked to hear that in the two years since Gabby Giffords and the others were shot in Arizona, there were eleven mass shootings in the United States! All of our radar is up and functioning more than it would ever have been earlier in a different age. At least it should be.

It's important to recognize that there are a lot less publicly violent ways to assault a life. There's identity theft, slander, malicious one-star reviews, and stalking, to name a few. There's nothing much we can do about people who slam our books. They're out in the public domain, after all, and our skin should be thick enough by now to absorb the punches. But we need to try and be smart about the rest of it.

I want to interact with my readers. From them I receive affirmation and support and encouragement and all of those amazing things I thought were just there for the "big guys" like Stephen King or Dean Koontz. Readers who enjoy my efforts are the ones that make me say it's okay not everyone likes my stuff. That they like it is sufficient. But I have found a few places where the boundary lines have been drawn. And they're not drawn just for me. They're drawn for my family.

It's important to note that even having drawn these lines, it's impossible to maintain absolute privacy any more. My goal is to have enough elements in place that I'm not an easy target if someone is targeting people, while at the same time being able to talk to readers in a meaningful and personal way.

Here are three things I've done:

• my online accounts will show my birth year as 1903. Even on my worst days, I don't look like I was born in 1903
• I recently obtained a post office box. Beginning with the postcards I mailed out for THE MISSINGS, my PO Box is the one I use for all things that are not personal.
• I post on Facebook about where I've been after the fact, if my home is likely to be open and vulnerable. 

Authors, what about you? Have you considered you might be vulnerable? What kinds of things have you done to give yourself a sense of privacy?

Readers, does it bother you to see a kind of roadblock between you and your favorite authors?

Do we Encourage Violence without Realizing it?

By Andrew E. Kaufman

I've been thinking a lot lately about tragedy. The kind we write about on paper and the kind we see in real life.

I don't mean to be a big buzz-kill during the holidays, but after the heartbreaking tragedy in Connecticut, I think this is timely and it's important.

LJ  posted a very valid question the other day on her Facebook page. She wondered if the violence she portrays on paper might in some way encourage or influence violence in the real world. It was a very candid and honest introspection, and I admired her for being so open and sharing it. It also resonated strongly with me because I've often been concerned about the same thing.

And I've struggled with it. A lot.

But I also managed to come to terms with it a while back, because I made an agreement with myself. Or maybe it was more of an understanding. Most of us who write mysteries and thrillers write with a specific purpose. An intent. For the most part, our novels focus on conquering evil, and our heroes aren't the bad guys (or gals)--they're the good ones. Our messages aren't to go out and hurt people; they're that those who are hurt can still find some measure of justice and resolution. It doesn't take away the pain--I know that--but it doesn't create it either.

There will alway be violence in the world. It's an unfortunate fact, but in some small way, on some level, I think our work fosters feelings of empowerment. It provides hope. For the ones who have never been touched by such horrible tragedies, it can allay fears. For the ones who have, it sends a message that there is in fact still good in this world, and there are people who champion what's right, who work every day to prevent violence, and when it does happen, who do what they can to make sure those who cause it will never do it again.

And for those of us who write about tragedy, I think it also helps us cope as well on a very real and intimate level. We don't enjoy violence, but we know violence is a reality, and when we reach out to our readers we connect with them in a meaningful and significant way.

What do you think?