If you are interested in blogging or want to promote your book, please contactE. B. Davisat firstname.lastname@example.org.
Check out our February author interviews: 2/7-debut author Keenan Powell (Alaskan lawyer), 2/14-Leslie Wheeler (Rattlesnake Hill), 2/21-bestselling author Krista Davis, who unveils a new series, 2/28-Diane Vallere answers my questions about Pajama Frame. Please join us in welcoming these authors to WWK.
Our February Saturday Guest Blogger Schedule: 2/3-Saralyn Richard, 2/10-Kathryn Lane. WWK's Margaret H. Hamilton will blog on 2/17, and Kait Carson on 2/24.
Congratulations to our writers for the following publications:
Shari Randall's"Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood'sshort story, will also bepublished. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.
In addition, our prolific KM has had the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," appears in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: a Fifth Course of Chaos.
Write What You Know - Even If It Hurts. A Guest Post by Tammy Euliano
Today we welcome anesthesiologist and writer Tammy Euliano to Writers Who Kill. Members of the Sisters in Crime Guppies Group know that Tammy generously answers medical questions for writers on her blog. Today she shares with us part of her journey to publish her manuscript,Do No Harm.
I’m a physician in my day job,
an anesthesiologist with an unusual god-complex. Not the omniscient surgeon kind,
but the lower-case kind who creates a world on paper (e-reader?) to captivate
and entertain. At last I’m pursuing my author-fantasy. In true “write what you
know” fashion, my mystery features an anesthesiologist.
Do No Harm is the story of Dr.
Kate Downey, an academic anesthesiologist who stumbles upon a series of
unexpected post-operative deaths. Career at stake, she teams with a medical
student, the son of a victim, and her eccentric German aunt to uncover a mercy
killing-for-hire scheme. The stakes escalate (of course) threatening her career
and the lives of her colleagues, her comatose husband, and even herself. A CRNA
(nurse anesthetist) figures prominently.
So there, I’ve written what I
know, and finished a novel in my field of expertise. A field in which I’ve
invested 20 years teaching, publishing, caring for patients. A field in which I
can most humbly claim to be an expert.
Honored as a finalist at the
PNWA (Pacific Northwest Writers Association) annual meeting, I was thrilled to
attend my first writers’ conference and my first pitch slam – speed dating with
agents. Give a brief pitch, answer questions until the bell rings. If interested,
they’ll request pages. Move on to the next agent that seeks your genre.
Go Time! Heart racing, my first
pitch went great – she asked for pages. The next, same story. The fact they
handed cards to most everyone was completely irrelevant.
Confidence high, I stood behind
the line at another agent. The line on the floor I mean, there was no one waiting.
Cue music from Psycho’s shower scene. Deaf to the ominous tune, but not the
bell, I moved to sit before him, blind to the horns and pitchfork.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Tammy Euliano, an
anesthesiologist at the University of Florida.”
He’s looking at his watch.
I plow on.
He’s drinking water, looking
around the room.
I plow on. When I mention that a
CRNA is involved in a patient’s surgery, he stops me. “A what?” Still no eye
contact, just interrupts.
“A CRNA – a nurse anesthetist.
They’re specially trained--”
“Never heard of them.”
“Hmm, well they are specially
trained nurses who practice anesthesia under a physician’s direction.”
He shakes his head. “No, not true.”
Ummmm. “Actually, they do.
They’re like physician assistants.”
“Look, I’ve had surgery. You
need to get your facts straight.”
Attempted smile on my part. “This
is what I do for a liv—“
“Your story has to be believable.”
“—ing.” Face on fire, heart
pounding, I move to stand, but he won’t shut up. I don’t recall what he said
next, and can’t figure out why I still sat there. The end was, “Rework your
story and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Yeah, I’ll send it right on. Hope
he’s holding his breath for it.
I continue to “write what I
know” and receive some positive feedback that my setting feels real. I’ve had
some useful comments from editors and some that just make you wonder:
“Your OR scene is unrealistic.
There are no desks in the OR, or computers.”
“Your scenario where the
students save the manikin and fist bump doesn’t work. They would all be
Note to self: When editing for
someone, check their credentials before listing their transgressions.