Saturday, November 17, 2018

Weekend Guest C. Michele Dorsey

We're delighted to welcome C. "Michele" Dorsey to Type M. Michele is the author of No Virgin Island and Permanent Sunset in the Sabrina Salter mystery series set on St. John in the US Virgin Islands. Michele is a lawyer, mediator and adjunct professor of law, who finds inspiration and serenity on St. John and on Cape Cod. She is co-chair of New England Crime Bake, Vice President of Mystery Writers of America, New England, and served on the board of Sisters in Crime, New England.

The Seeds of Story

I heard Walter Mosley use the term “unconscious writing” several times during this past weekend at the New England Crime Bake, where he was guest of honor. I haven’t been able to shake it. He talked about connecting with your unconscious mind. I think that is where the seeds of a story begin before the writer ever knows it. What follows is an evolution that can take years, even decades to root and grow.

Twenty years ago, my husband and I went on a trip to Ireland to visit our daughter who was attending Trinity College for her junior year. They waited in line to kiss the Blarney Stone, but I felt restless. I admitted to already being too full of blarney and walked through the grounds of the Blarney castle where a ground fog had risen and sent shivers throughout me, but not from the damp. Something intangible, visceral filled and excited me. Later, while visiting monk huts and other stone formations, I felt stirred by something close to being spiritual I still haven’t quite identified. But it remained with me.

During the intermittent years as I wrote more and more, I discovered myself using language that was not part of my daily vernacular, but had been used by my Irish grandmother. When I traveled to Mexico, I commented that a woman “hangs a nice wash” when I observed her colorful and orderly laundry drying on a clothesline, a phrase I later remembered my grandmother using. The more I wrote, the more her words surfaced.

Fast forward to June 2017 when I returned to Ireland for a five-day stopover on my way to Provence. A friend recommended a tour of Newgrange, a monument that is a thousand years older than the Pyramids, where historian Mary Gibbons leads you inside the oldest astronomical observatory in the world. Outside, on a cool misty day I looked out at fields of green that seem to extend forever, and I felt it again. But this time, I knew I felt like I had come home. Later as I stood on the Hill of Tara, the ancient royal site of the High Kings of Ireland, I could see twenty-three of Ireland’s thirty-two counties. While I had never been there before, it felt familiar.


By the time I arrived at the Dublin Writer’s Museum, I was relieved to be inside looking at concrete images in photos and at books and journals of Joyce, Wilde, and Yeats. I wondered why I hadn’t read more of them. But my TBR pile was already so high.

This September, I wandered onto an announcement for a course on James Joyce’s Dubliners at my local Open University, which I didn’t know existed. (To be fair, I’m new to the community.) The inner rumblings could no longer be disregarded. I enrolled and was ignited by the images of fictional people created by Joyce a hundred years ago that I felt I knew.

It was inevitable. The seeds had been planted long ago, maybe forever. I have an Irish story sitting inside of me now that is now screaming to be let out. The geographical images are there. The people are there. And the stirring from my unconscious mind can no longer be ignored. Now I must go write it.

Friday, November 16, 2018

Type M Recipe Challenge

I know I said my November posts would be about doing NaNoWriMo. But I don't have anything else I want to say right now. I'll let you know how I did after it's over. Today, I want to accept Rick's challenge to share a recipe related to one of our books.

Here's the backstory for this recipe. My Lizzie Stuart mystery series is currently being reissued by Speaking Volumes. My original publisher was Overmountain Press, a small independent publisher specializing in Southern books. Overmountain added a mystery imprint called Silver Dagger, featuring Southern authors --  in my case a Southern-born author with a Southern-based character.

The Silver Dagger imprint was launched with a splash. The authors worked as a consortium, marketing together. We were asked to contribute a recipe related to our first book for a collection that  would be a giveaway. I turned to my good friend, Alice Green, for help. Alice was and still is the executive director of a community-based nonprofit. She is also an excellent cook. I asked her to come up for a recipe for "yummy balls".

In my first book in my Lizzie Stuart series, Death Favorite Child,
the victim has a peanut allergy. To satisfy her sweet tooth when she was a child, her aunt came up with a tasty treat that she called a "yummy ball". The dastardly killer substitutes ringer candy balls.

In the book, the about-to-be victim tells Lizzie what's in the yummy balls. Based on that description that I made up, Alice went into her kitchen and concocted a recipe. Her husband taste-tested several versions until she found the right combination. Yummy balls are so good that my publisher at the time served them at a holiday dinner.

I don't have to tell you (but I will) that you should not make or eat these if you have a peanut allergy. This is the version that did in my victim.

Alice's Yummy Balls

1 cup dark corn syrup
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp unsalted butter
1 cup crunchy peanut butter
1 cup finely chopped salted peanuts
3/4 cup chopped dates
11/2 cup uncooked oatmeal
2 cups Rice Krispies
Combine corn syrup, brown sugar, honey, and butter. Bring mixture to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in peanut butter until melted and smooth. Add peanuts, dates, oatmeal, and Rice Krispies and stir. Hand roll the mixture into balls about the size of a large walnut. Place in a dish. Keep refrigerated, but served at room temperature.

Thursday, November 15, 2018

The Recipe Challenge - War Cake!


Today I am rising to Rick's food-in-novel challenge, an easy challenge for me to meet, for thirteen years ago, I was not more than ten pages into the first draft of the first book in my Alafair Tucker series, The Old Buzzard Had It Coming, when I realized that I was going to be writing a lot about food, and not just any food, but American farm food–heavy, caloric, abundant meals made almost exclusively from what you could grow or slaughter yourself. Because if like Alafair you live on a horse farm in Oklahoma in 1912, and you have ten kids, you’re always thinking about what’s for dinner.

It occurred to me even then that readers would probably be interested in the recipes for these old country dishes that were so common and everyday for my parents and grandparents, so from that very first Alafair novel I have included several recipes mentioned in each story. And not just the recipes themselves, but the food lore that goes along with them. For instance, there are specific ways to eat beans and cornbread, and everyone has her favorite. There are also very wrong ways to make, say, cornbread, (which is bread, Dear Reader, and not cake) if you intend to call yourself a bona fide Southerner.

Thanksgiving is next week here in the States, and I have many fabulous pie recipes from which I was going to choose for this entry, but since the 100th anniversary of the end of World War I has just passed, I'm going to include here a recipe out of my eighth Alafair novel, All Men Fear Me, which takes place in 1917, at the beginning of the American involvement in the war.

The book is not about the life of a soldier, though, or what is going on in Europe, or trench warfare. It is about the American home front. My grandparents were all in their early twenties at the time, and as much as they all loved to talk and tell tales, none of them told me anything about life in the middle of America during World War I. So for most of my life, I’ve had the mistaken impression that the war didn’t have much impact on daily life over here.

Oh, there was impact galore, Dear Reader. But today I’m restricting myself to the impact on dinner. The United States Food Administration, headed at the time by a young man named Herbert Hoover, was charged with making sure that all American housewives were doing their part for the war effort. “Our problem,” said the USFA, “is to feed our Allies by sending them as much food as we can of the most concentrated nutritive value in the least shipping space. These foods are wheat, beef, pork, dairy products, and sugar. Our solution is to eat less of these…and to waste less of all foods.”

So every housewife was encouraged to use as little of the aforementioned foodstuffs as possible. There are several surviving war cookbooks that the USFA distributed to show women how make meals for their families without using wheat, or meat, or sugar, and these are the recipes that I’ve been trying out on my long-suffering friends. To tell the truth, some of them are pretty good.

I found the recipe for War Cake in a 1918 USFA publication called War Economy in Food. Now, I’ve tested out many old recipes in the course of writing this series, and more than once the results have been less than satisfactory. Our modern tastes are different from our ancestors’, and sometimes the old dishes are so heavy and rich that a bite or two is all we can take. Of course we don’t plow the back forty after dinner like Grandpa did.

But the reviews of War Cake were very good, which surprised me a bit because this cake has no wheat, no sugar, and no eggs. It’s dense and moist and even though it has no ginger, it reminds me of gingerbread, or Boston brown bread. Here’s the recipe directly from the booklet. It’s easy to make and delicious. But I warn you, Dear Reader. Low in calories it is not.

War Cake
1 cup molasses (not blackstrap)
1 cup corn syrup
1-1/2 cup water
1 package raisins (exact quantity according to preference)
2 TB fat (vegetable oil)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 cups rye flour
1/2 tsp soda
2 tsp baking powder

Boil together for 5 minutes the first nine ingredients. Cool, add the sifted dry ingredients and bake in two loaves for 45 minutes in a moderate oven. (I baked it at 350º F. – Donis)

I like to use golden raisins because they are tender and look nice. I use a 1/2 pound package from Trader Joe’s. The corn syrup I’ve used is plain old white Karo, but I’ve also used maple syrup (which is delicious), agave syrup, honey, and a combination thereof. It’s all good.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Sometimes grandma does know best

Barbara here. During the past week there have been some interesting posts about how we writers manage distractions like email, social media, and the lonely call of the dishwasher to be unloaded. If you work on a laptop connected to the internet, those little alerts and pings can pull you out of the story and down a rabbit hole of links to cat videos and the latest Trump outrage. Hours can pass without a word of progress on that novel with the looming deadline.

Several techniques have been proposed, including editing on paper and writing standing up at a computer without internet access.


There have also been posts about the damage to our attention span and abstract thinking caused by the constant, rapid-fire input of information in our digital age. This has been a serious concern among us child psychologists for several decades, and only growing worse as young brains today are shaped and developed in this new reality. Flitting from one small chunk of information to another not only does not strengthen the capacity for sustained concentration (quite the opposite) but it also does not allow for deeper reflection, analysis, and synthesis of ideas into a bigger picture. One cannot present Immanuel Kant in a series of short, interactive info bites, nor can one ever understand him without years of building up the brain to handle the complexity. Brains need training and practice to master a skill. We are training them all wrong.

Working memory underlies much of higher-order thinking. We have to be able to keep information in our short-term memory and play with it there in order to synthesize or analyze it. Working memory is increasingly underused because of gadgets that allow us to access information from our Google Home devices and phones instead of our own memory. Mental math (like calculating the tip) is excellent practice for working memory, but memorization of addition and times tables has been abandoned in favour of calculators. Furthermore, the use of word processors, no matter how convenient, speeds up the act of getting idea from brain to page and therefore cuts down on the amount of reflection and reorganization those ideas undergo.



So, to bring this post back to the business of writing, I'd like to propose a simple technique that has fallen into disfavour and invites astonishment from writing colleagues – good, old-fashioned longhand. I write my first draft using a pen and pad of yellow paper. My laptop sits ignored in the corner of the coffee table. When I occasionally open it up to check a piece of information, I inevitably fall down the internet rabbit hole and lose my focus on the story, so I've learned to simply mark "check this" in the draft before I carry on.

Besides keeping me away from distractions, longhand is a powerful tool for sinking deeper into the story. Because my pen can't keep up with my brain, I have time to think about each word and each action in more detail, choosing better words and hopefully adding richness that I may not have thought of had I been flying through the scene. The first drafts are a mess of crossed-out sentences, arrows, scribbles in the margins, and "insert next page" notations, so much so that they are nearly illegible. Even if I were wealthy enough to afford a secretary, he or she would never be able to decipher them. Transcribing those scribbles onto my computer is a laborious process, but even that gives me time for further reflection and editing.


I may be swimming against the tide here, but I'm not alone among experts. Studies have shown that students who take notes on a laptop do not understand or remember the material as well as those who take longhand notes. The latter requires more paraphrasing and organizing in order to capture the same material while keeping up with the teacher. It seems some good old-fashioned pedagogical techniques that have been tossed aside in the digital age have some uses after all.

Too bad most kids don't learn cursive any more.


Tuesday, November 13, 2018

A new Type M for Murder project proposal!

by Rick Blechta

I really enjoyed Aline’s post yesterday. Being a musician by training, of course I worked in the restaurant trade along the way when musical work was scarce. Instead of front of the house — the place you find most aspiring between-gigs musicians — I was in the kitchen. Why? Because I like to cook and I’m good at it, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, when Aline mentioned food in books, I immediately thought of Nero Wolfe. Food is a huge sidebar in those novels and Rex Stout was very adept in its use to amplify the character of Wolfe and to allow Archie to make comments and observations about his boss. Fritz Brenner, Wolfe’s resident chef, also became a source of “colour” as the series went on. The whole food fixation in these stories helped to give the lives of the characters more shape and background and made them seem more real.

But that’s not what I’m talking about today.

Aline’s post gave me An Idea, and I hope it’s a good one. I’m sure most of the authors here have used food in their novels at one point or another. How about we share recipes for one dish that we used in a story?

First, we give a bit of background, and then the recipe. Who’s game?

I’m going to kick it off with this:

Spaghetti alla Carbonara
(makes two servings)

Ingredients
200 gr dry spaghetti
2 eggs, beaten
1-2 Tbs olive oil
4 oz guanciale* or pancetta, diced
2 Tbs dry white wine (I prefer Orvieto)
4 Tbs grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 Tbs grated Pecorino Romano
1 tsp black pepper

*Wondering what the heck guanciale is? It’s dry-cured hog jowl and it is a lovely thing — but it can be hard to find. Find a very good Italian grocer and inquire about it. In a pinch, you can use pancetta which is more widely available, but it’s merely a substitute. For heaven’s sake, don’t use bacon! Garden variety bacon won’t work because it’s cured with lots of sugar.

Method:
  1. Heat a medium-size skillet over a low flame and put a pot of water on to boil. (Never put anything in a cold skillet. Heat it first!)
  2. When the skillet is hot, add the olive oil and when that’s warm, add the guanciale. If you’re substituting pancetta, you might want to use the larger amount of olive oil. (Guanciale is fatty, so you don’t need the extra olive oil.) Cook slowly while the pasta water comes to a boil.
  3. Meanwhile mix the beaten eggs, two cheeses and black pepper together. Set aside.
  4. Salt the now-boiling water well, and cook the spaghetti to your preferred level of doneness. While that’s cooking, add the white wine to the guanciale and simmer slowly.
  5. Scoop out a half-cup of pasta water when the spaghetti is half-cooked. Add it to the skillet with the meat and wine and turn up the heat to medium high. Stir well as it boils.
  6. This next thing is important! Before you drain the cooked pasta, grab another half-cup of pasta water. You might well need it.
  7. Drain the spaghetti when it’s done, but don’t shake it. You want it to be a bit wet. Add it to the skillet where your other ingredients are cooking. Turn down the heat to low.
  8. Working quickly, toss the spaghetti in your “sauce” to coat it, then add the egg/cheese mixture and continue tossing. You want it to make a creamy sauce as the eggs cook and the cheese melts. If it’s beginning to thicken too much, add more reserved pasta water. How much to add can be a bit tricky the first time or two you make it. It’s a feel thing. You don’t want this dish to turn into spaghetti with scrambled eggs!
  9. Plate the dish and add a bit more grated parmigiano on top along with more black pepper. The term “carbonara” refers to black pepper — which works very well with the cheese/egg sauce. Use pepper generously with this dish. The Romans add a ton!
Spaghetti alla Carbonara appears in my novel, The Fallen One,  at the point where the two main characters share a home cooked meal for the first time and their friendship begins to blossom into romance. I supplied one of my family’s favourite Italian meals to help spur on the growing attraction!

Buon appetito!

Monday, November 12, 2018

Food in Fiction

How important is it in a book to know what the characters eat? Does it shed a light on their characters? Or do they even eat at all?

I was thinking about this because I couldn't enjoy a book I read recently which had been shaping up to be rather a good thriller because I was so distracted by the characters, including a couple of children, all going for refuge to this remote shack where they stayed for several weeks without any indication of what they lived on or how they got it. If these children were anything like mine, the dialogue would have been totally dominated by wails of, 'I'm starving!' I got so obsessed about it that I completely lost interest in the dramatic denouement.

Perhaps it's just me who thinks like that. I love cooking and I love entertaining. I read cookbooks for pleasure and it's so important in my life that it has even taken over my anxiety dream. When I was worried, my standard dream used to be about trying to get to an exam when I didn't even know where it was or what I would be examined on. Now, it's about having people coming to visit when I've no food in the house and I can't find the supermarket.

I've always loved the descriptions of food in children's books, whether Ratty and Mole's picnic of 'cold tonguecoldhamcold beefpickledgherkinsaladFrenchrollscress sandwichespottedmeatgingerbeer lemonadesoda water' or the Christmas hamper from home with Debbie's jumbles in 'What Katie Did at School.' One of my favourite cookery books is the delightful The Little Library Cookbook by Kate Young which is a treasure trove of literary recipes.

Joanne Harris's Chocolat was such a clever book, as luscious as chocolate itself, a revelation of the character of the heroine as well. Marcel Proust's madeleine is of course the famous example, with the thin taste of the lime-flower tea and the delicate sponge reflecting his own refined sensibility.


I hadn't really thought about it before in my own books, but my DI Marjory Fleming – no cook herself – has a robust enjoyment of the hearty Polish country dishes her housekeeper makes as well as the bakes her mother sends along in The Tin, an important feature of Fleming family life. My new detective, DI Kelso Strang, is thirty years younger and as a New Man has no problem in dishing up an elegant sea bass. And yes, I suppose that does indeed spell out his more austere character compared to hers.

So, as I work out my plots should I, in future, work out the recipes to go with them?


Saturday, November 10, 2018

Concentration?


By Vicki Delany

The topic the week seems to be concentration. How do we concentrate in a busy always-on-demand always-connected world?

Image result for trying to concentrate cartoon images

For what it’s worth, this is what works (most of the time) for me.

I am a highly disorganized person. I write three books a year. So in my writing life, I have to be highly organized.

As part of that, I have a separate notebook computer devoted to writing books and only to writing books. I’ve never set up mail or Facebook or anything other than Word. I use Dropbox for backups and moving documents between computers, so the notebook has to be connected to the Internet but as long as nothing else is set up, I can’t access it. I don’t do any of the business-related part of writing (Facebook posts, writing blog posts or essays etc. etc.) on it. Just write the darn book.

The notebook is kept in a separate room from my main computer and my iPad. In the summer, I take it out on the back deck to write, and the rest of the year I place it on the half-wall between the kitchen and the dining room. And there I write on it. Standing up.

Aside from the fact that I have found I like standing up for 4 – 5 hours a day, I believe it helps the creative process too. When I’m stuck – for that second of what’s been called ‘creative time’ - I walk around the room, or look out the window. I don’t open Facebook to see what’s going on in the world (I probably don’t want to know).

That seems to works me.

And thus I can write three books (sometimes more) a year. Including A SCANDAL IN SCARLET which will be released on Tuesday.


Walking her dog Violet late one night, Gemma Doyle, owner of the Sherlock Holmes Bookshop, acts quickly when she smells smoke outside the West London Museum. Fortunately no one is inside, but it’s too late to save the museum’s priceless collection of furniture, and damage to the historic house is extensive. Baker Street’s shop owners come together to hold an afternoon auction tea to raise funds to rebuild, and Great Uncle Arthur Doyle offers a signed first edition of The Valley of Fear.

Cape Cod’s cognoscenti files into Mrs. Hudson’s Tea Room, owned by Gemma’s best friend, Jayne Wilson. Excitement fills the air (along with the aromas of Jayne’s delightful scones, of course). But the auction never happens. Before the gavel can fall, museum board chair Kathy Lamb is found dead in the back room. Wrapped tightly around her neck is a long rope of decorative knotted tea cups―a gift item that Jayne sells at Mrs. Hudson’s. Gemma’s boyfriend in blue, Ryan Ashburton, arrives on the scene with Detective Louise Estrada. But the suspect list is long, and the case far from elementary. Does Kathy’s killing have any relation to a mysterious death of seven years ago?

Gemma has no intention of getting involved in the investigation, but when fellow shopkeeper Maureen finds herself the prime suspect she begs Gemma for her help. Ryan knows Gemma’s methods and he isn’t happy when she gets entangled in another mystery. But with so many suspects and so few clues, her deductive prowess will prove invaluable in A Scandal in Scarlet, Vicki Delany’s shrewdly plotted fourth Sherlock Holmes Bookshop mystery.


PS. Did you know I sent out a newsletter every quarter? I talk about my books and my travels and anything else that strikes my fancy. This quarter I've started a new feature called Vicki's Book Club. If you'd like to be on the list, please send me your email address. I'm at vicki at vickidelany dot com.
You know the drill!