Surviving the chaos.

 The Jewish New Year began on Monday evening and marks the beginning of a period of introspection, personal accounting, and actions to address the wrongdoings of the past year, before culminating in a day of fasting and confession on Yom Kippur. Regardless of one's beliefs in the existence of a deity, it's a meaningful exercise to remind us to assess our successes and failures over the past year and try to recalibrate for the next year. In many ways, September seems better suited to this exercise than January, which in our culture is usually the time to make new resolutions to improve our lives. 

The past year has been one of increasing chaos and disaster in politics, nature, international relations, and technology. It feels as if the world has come loose from its bearings and is spinning ever faster out of control. I'm not going to go into detail; I know we are all feeling that sense of impending doom and struggling to keep a toehold in normalcy. It makes it difficult to stay focussed on mundane tasks, like writing the next chapter of my book or indeed remembering to write my post for Type M for Murder. I apologize once again for the long lapses! 

One suggestion for retaining our sanity is to avoid reading the news and social media. Nowadays, AI is turning truth upside down so that nothing is trustworthy any more. There are forces, whether merely malicious or deeply malignant, that are constantly trying to promote lies to mislead us. The effort to fact-check and double-check is exhausting, and as AI gurus get cleverer, we still might get sucked into some lie or scam too matter how savvy we try to be.

Decades ago, Maslow developed a theory about the hierarchy of needs that motivate our behaviour, which is still a useful lens through which to see today's struggles. Basic needs like food, water, and sleep, all essential to our individual survival, come first, and only once we have satisfied those, can we move on to safety and security, then to the need for love and belonging. More existential aspirations like self-fulfillment, betterment, and humanitarianism only become important when those more basic needs are taken care of. 

Maslow would not have conceived of a world where almost everyone can be exposed to the violence and threats occurring anywhere in world, not just in our immediate neighbourhood, through constant news feeds and social media eager to get our attention. He would not have imagined the misinformation amplifying, even directing, our perceptions. We feel a level of anxiety and insecurity greater than the reality. This is not to say that climate change is not threatening the existence of the planet and malignant leaders are not destabilizing the world order. In fact, faced with those realities, it's easy to feel powerless to unmake a difference.

But turning away from the screaming headlines and social media gives us respite from that pervasive, existential anxiety. So, instead of scrolling, I will spend part of my day doing peaceful things. Taking my dogs for a walk in the woods with friends, reading a good book, meeting friends for lunch... It's not just "head in the sand"; it's a survival tactic. Somewhere in there, I will find time to write another scene of my WIP. Small victories that I can control, when I can control so little on the world stage.

On the other hand, however, I think it's important not to ignore the crisis we are in. We can't all turn inward to take care only of ourselves, and let the world burn. So I will try to find small steps that I can personally control. I will vote thoughtfully. I will donate to reputable agencies whose mandate is to take care, be it food banks and shelters in my own city or international relief agencies. I will try to make environmentally wise choices. And so on.

And I will always try to write with compassion and understanding for people who are struggling. Murder is not just about thrills or chills or laughter. It's about pain and fear and desperation. The world needs more compassion.

A Different Perspective - Notes from Alaska

by Catherine Dilts

Routine can be a writer’s friend. Committing to a schedule can be productive. But routine can be a creativity killer. We risk burning out, losing the passion for our writing.

I was pushed way out of my routine, and my comfort zone, on my recent trip to Alaska. One big creativity booster was learning about a very different culture. Most of the population lives near the coastline, lakes, or rivers, unlike dry, high desert Colorado.

Our first morning in Anchorage, the hotel was on a small lake that is an active aerodrome. Float planes had been landing and taking off from the water constantly the previous day. I was enchanted. The air was too foggy early the next morning to fly. The peaceful quiet was soothing.

Anchorage Alaska aerodrome

My husband was still getting ready for the day, so I walked along the lake alone, breathing the humid air. Nothing felt like Colorado. That was a good thing. Why take a vacation to a place that's the same as where you live? I'd seen float planes on TV and in movies, but had never seen one close up.

Float planes in Anchorage

In a state with few interior roads, airplanes are a necessary means of transportation. There are towns and lakes that cannot be reached by road. But my experience with the small planes was several days away. Our first adventure was on very conventional wheels.

We rode the hotel van to downtown Anchorage and wandered around. I had halibut fish and chips for lunch. We met a native artist carving scrimshaw. Then we met up with our bicycle tour.

Scrimshaw artist at work on whale bone

A driver took us to our starting point. We were fitted to bikes and given helmets. Then we were off! For about ten miles over three hours, we learned about the Anchorage area, the plants, the sea life, and the history. 

​Of course Curious George went on the bike ride. 

Curious George ready for a bicycle tour

I live in the land of mountain men and women. Cowboys and cowgirls. Hikers, mountain bikers, and trail runners. Colorado has an outdoorsy vibe. We get near constant sunshine, and fight about access to water.

​Alaska has the same independent feel, but reminded me more of what Colorado used to be like a couple decades ago. And it is wilder. Vast wilderness covers most of the state. There is an abundance of water. Even the sun shines differently, and on an entirely different cycle, than in Colorado.

Anchorage Alaska

​We had nearly two more weeks to experience, and already I was feeling refreshed. Not just from escaping my self-imposed work routine. I was inspired by being in a place with different smells, sounds, flora and fauna. The contrast of climate and culture were inspiring a new perspective.

My Alaska trip will provide background for book three in The Tapestry Tales YA science fiction series, written with co-author Merida Bass under the pen name Ann Belice, coming in 2026. Maybe it will lead to a short story, too.

Seeing Characters Come to Life

 by Thomas Kies

On October 14 and 15, actors from the Carteret Community Theatre will be performing MURDER ON THE MENU at the Culinary School at Carteret Community College.  Along with a stellar performance, there will be a brilliant three course dinner, a singer, and a multimedia mystery.  

The time, 1953.  The place, Paris, France.  The precise venue, Chez Beaujolais-the first American owned restaurant in Paris post-World War II. 

The Korean War has just ended but the Cold War rages on.  The guests for opening night at Chez Beaujolais:  Sally Willis, the first female US Ambassador to France.  Senator Winston Palmetto from the great state of North Carolina.  Captain Vladimer Smirnov, Soviet Ambassador to France and nephew of Nikita Khruschev

.

The two special guests are Dr. Cassandra Hawking, eminent US physicist, instrumental in the design of the first nuclear submarine, the Nautilus.  Sitting next to her is her love-stricken suitor, Elliot Chesson-Fitzpatrick, of the Boston Chesson-Fitzpatrick’s.

Okay, not only did I write this, but they were an actor short and now I’m playing the Russian ambassador.  My accent is driving my wife crazy. 

This is the third murder mystery dinner I’ve written for our local theater and the culinary school.  I have a blast because I love the theater…and food…and having my characters take on a life of their own.

Unless you get a movie or television deal, how often do you get to see your story unfold before your very eyes?  Hear your characters say your dialogue?  

And more importantly, I get to watch the audience.  I love it when they laugh at the jokes and work to try to solve the crime at the end of the evening.  How many people at those tables got it right? 

Sure, I can put playwright on my resume now, but I’m still learning the craft.  The very first year, at the end of the first act, I had to contend with a dead body in the middle of the dining room.  It’s just not fun trying to serve dinner around a corpse.

Kind of a distraction.  And not easy for the poor actor portraying the stiff. 

This year, I’m trying something a little different.  Sure, there’s a murder, but it happens long distance.  There’s no body to worry about.  But what is truly different, we have a main character that’s been poisoned, and we must find who the culprit is and get the antidote in thirty minutes, or the character will die.

There will be a ticking clock on the wall. The audience will be able to see how much time is left while watching the plot unfold before them.  

So, it’s a fundraiser for the culinary school at the college and for the community theater.  I may sell a few books at the event, but more importantly, I have an absolute blast. 

Lolly the Lobster, or Why We Need a Little Silliness Right Now

by Shelley Burbank

I've been in Maine for a few weeks now, and it's filling me with such contentment. And by that I mean seafood. Lobster rolls. Fried clams. A nice fried haddock sandwich. (No chowdah yet, though. I might have to make some at home.)

Photo of the week & a life as a wacky football game

Here I am hanging out on the coast this week with my good friend Lolly the Lobster. Actually I have no idea what the lobster shack named this cutie-pie crustacean, but I can tell you this: we all need a little silliness right now. Going onto social media is like walking into the middle of a football game--linebackers coming at you everywhere, whistles blowing, nobody paying attention to the refs, cheaters jabbing of fingers into eyes when no one's looking then looking around all wide-eyed innocent and saying "who me?"

And then the big dude in the sky box declares the winner before the game is over and an all-out brawl breaks out on the field and fans start throwing stuff from the bleachers and NOBODY is having a good time. 

Can't someone call a national time out? 

Meanwhile, when I avoid the interwebs and the ever-present handheld computer otherwise known as a smart phone, life seems pretty grand. I've done everything I love to do in Maine besides the one thing I probably should be doing: writing. I've given up the idea of finishing and publishing the novella before November and am now thinking, "Why not get it out in time for the holiday shopping season?" Stay tuned. 

How not writing is actually writing. 

Today, actually, I was visited with an idea for a good exterior plot action scene for Olivia Lively book 3, the next novel in my limited 4-book series. This book is going to be a lot of fun to write, but it will also be tricky to figure out the interior story line. It has to be a transition-type personal journey to mirror the (very cool and I can't wait to tell you about it) mystery plot. I know where my character will end up, emotionally/personally at the end of the series, but this third book has to get her there. This is how I'm looking at it: 

• Over the course of books 1 and 2, Olivia matures regarding friendship and romance and her personal goals and seems to come to a stasis. But stasis doesn't propel novels, so
• In book 3, I need to give her some sort of personal challenge with a resolution that will prepare her for
• A final opportunity to mature in the final book which will lead to a major life change by the end of the series.

This problem is what happens when you start out writing a flash fiction that turns into a serialized novel that turns into a series you never planned to write. It's okay. Thinking through plot lines and character development IS writing. Plus we all need puzzles to keep our brains in shape, right? 

I also hear seafood is helpful for optimal brain function. 

Good thing I'm in Maine. Now where's my recipe for fish chowder? 

One Eye Down, One To Go

 by Sybil Johnson

This post will be short. I had cataract surgery a week or so ago and have another coming up on Monday. It has been an interesting experience so far. I’m sure a lot of people who are reading this have had this surgery. Eye surgery is something I’ve never experienced before. I suspect some of this may end up in a story someday.

You’re awake during it, though they do give you anti-anxiety meds (what I like to call “happy juice”). Lots of lights and maybe some murmur of conversation (don’t really remember that part), instructions to look some direction and suddenly it’s over. They give you a shield for your eye and you’re on your way home.

This started me thinking about the origin of the word “cataract”. It’s a clouding of the eye’s natural lens, but I’ve also heard the term used for areas in the Nile river where there are waterfalls and rocky areas that make passage more difficult. The First Cataract on the Nile is just south of Aswan. There are six total. 

Apparently, they both have the same word origin. From Latin cataracta "waterfall," from Greek katarhaktēs "waterfall, broken water; a kind of portcullis." So the eye cataract is sort of like looking through a waterfall or through a portcullis. 

There’s your bit of wisdom for the day. I thought it was interesting, anyway. 

While I’m recovering, I’m resting my eyes a bit and listening to some podcasts and an audiobook with an AI-generated voice. The AI-generated voice is okay to listen to, but there are what I consider to be unnatural pauses that annoy me a tiny bit.

One of Those Days

 By Charlotte Hinger

I don't understand days like yesterday. It was more Monday than usual, and to make things worse, today is Tuesday and it thinks it's still Monday. 

I've been pondering the colossal best seller by Marie Kondo, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and decided I should write the Life-Changing Magic of Shoving Everything into a Huge Hefty Bag and Leaving It For Somebody Else to Deal With.

My life is basically the same. I do some things well and some things poorly. I have good days and bad days, but mostly my days are pretty satisfying and on the whole I'm a happy person. I have a lot to be thankful for. But I can't for the life of my understand how a simple bad day seems to carry over to the next. I think a good time manager would point out that I'm over-extended. I know I need to cut down, but even so. .  . .I wonder how the authors who are super stars manage to get it all done. 

Simplicity is appealing to those of us who are overburdened with the demands of our stressful societies and our plethora of electronic gadgets. Right now, I'm going through piles of paper and steeling myself to discard bunches. 

Then surprise! I realized some of the letters I had received from writers were important. There are three that might by valuable to collectors. Wouldn't that be lovely? It sure put the brakes on careless discarding. 

Kondo's book has a serene cover with a blue sky. It promises happiness. Serenity. A perfectly ordered house with everything in its place. There is a compelling narrative. The author, Marie Kondo, started down this decluttering path when she was in kindergarten. At the age of five, she could not wait to get home after school and begin organizing her things. It's her passion. She built a business out of organizing stuff.

She's the ultimate authority and very opinionated. No one else could have written from the same point of view.

But making a fortune from tidying up! Who would have thought?

This is a simple book. There is a lesson here for beginning novelists who complain that they are stuck in ordinary towns with ordinary uninspiring people. The greatest writers see the stuff of stories right in front of them. It doesn't take great adventures to come up with great fiction. And the same could be said of non-fiction.

Beyond being inspired by our ordinary life, but it's important, I think, to be aware of conditions that us miserable. What makes you NOT want to write. 

 I can only stand x amount of clutter before it drags down my psyche. I think I've hit my limit. 

It's time to finish the last few chapters of my new mystery and tidy up my book and my house. 

 

The DEATH of the Short Story (and More) and Persistence

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzJiYmo_f40

This is the link to a short video by a working/selling science fiction novelist who still gets small ideas that need their own story, the short story. Science fiction might be more friendly than mystery to the short story and its cousins, the novella and novelette. The author relates the travail of a writer who submitted a story to Analog, one of the seminal SF monthly literary magazines. The author sold the story to them and related an Eight month contract signing ordeal that resulted in her pulling her story back. It was about a $250 sale. What was so damn complicated?

A British company recently purchased Analog and its sister publication, Asimov SF. A typical author contract is generally pretty simple - it's a $250 sale, not six figures. The traditional $250 contract, which concerned itself with the editor's suggested changes, possible cover art, and possible one-time anthology rights, typically returned all rights to the author within a short span of time, like 90 days after publication.

The company that bought Analog is in the "Media" business. Their business model is to attract literary properties and then to package them for film and TV. Their new author contract is intended to cover every possibility for wringing out every penny from the packaged deal. 

The new, extremely media-aware contract insists on permanent rights for anthologies, film and TV adaptations, comics, and for future media outlets no one has thought of yet! And for the possible future merchandising of toys, collectibles, and trendy items. The value to the original writer: still $250.  The author objected to many of the clauses, good for her. The publisher seemed surprised. The contract was meant to mine interesting stories - people actually sent them on their own! - for their exploitative, multimillion-dollar hybrid media development plans.

Analog is withering away. The last issue I saw was pretty thin.

Short stories are an art form. Many writers can't get their pens around a story that is focused on such a narrow concept. The SF magazines are floundering because so many of them took a hard left, politically and specified things like proper pronouns and stories featuring "underrepresented" people ahead of meaningful SF.

Will this penny-squeezing attitude come to Mysteries? To longer forms, novels?

 ~

Hemingway famously said, "...writing is rewriting." The novel or short story isn't done when you put the final period at the bottom of the page. Hemingway liked to be away for a month before he got back to a "finished" novel. He was looking for better ways to say things, more precise, sharper words. He rewrote sections, titles, and characters many times. Until his inner editor said it was right.

Edison, who didn't invent the lightbulb, said he tried "10,000" different ideas for the filament of the incandescent light bulb. One of his best ideas was carbon-coated bamboo strips. That bulb would last over a thousand hours. The modern, successful tungsten coil filament lightbulb was developed by two European scientists, one Hungarian, the other Croatian. Edison said his experiments were also successful because they showed 10,000 things that didn't work.

Hemingway showed equal persistence. He didn't like the original ending to "Farewell To Arms" and he was frustrated that the "right" ending was eluding him. He rewrote the last chapters 42 times!

Rewrite until it just can't be any better.  

42 - the answer to the Ultimate Question, too.

George Goes Missing: An Alaska mini-mystery

by Catherine Dilts

Gone fishing! That’s my excuse for failing to post an article August 26^th. To celebrate our retirement, my husband and I planned an ambitious see-and-do-it-all trip to Alaska. A two week dream trip of bucket list proportions.

At the last minute, I packed Curious George. It’s a lot to make room in your luggage for a plush monkey, but he had accompanied us on many adventures over the past eighteen years. How could we leave George behind for this once-in-a-lifetime trip?

We started a tradition of photographing Curious George in scenic places. The grandkids are grown, but they still delight in seeing George’s travels.

When we headed out of our hotel for the Seward docks, I stuffed George into my daypack. At least, I thought I did. We signed in for the Kenai Fjords National Park Cruise. Queueing up, I made a horrifying discovery.

George was missing.

Once we were settled into our assigned seats at a table on the boat, I went through my pack. No George. Had I left him at the hotel? No. I was certain I placed him in the pack. George must have fallen out.

I consoled myself with the thought that we’d had a good run. Hopefully George found a new home, and would live out his days happily in Seward. <<sigh>>

I stared out the window at the ramp as the rest of the tourists boarded. I glimpsed red. Leaning forward, I stared at a young man with a daypack. Tucked into the straps was George!

It had to be my George. How was I going to get him back? Wander around the boat all day, harassing young men with my quest to search their daypacks?

I tried to quell the rising anxiety. He’s just a toy monkey. Finally, everyone had boarded. Our tablemates had yet to arrive. We wondered if the fully packed boat might be missing a couple souls, when two young men slid onto the booth-style seats across from us.

“George!” I squealed. “You have my monkey!”

Hilarity ensued as they confirmed they’d found George outside the hotel, abandoned. They assumed he was a child’s toy. I admitted we had owned George for nearly two decades, and took him on trips with us. But having failed to keep him safe, perhaps these young men deserved to be George’s new companions.

“No, you have a long relationship with George. We can’t take him. Besides, we just lost our monkey.”

They told us the saga of Pingo, their thrift store find at the beginning of their motorcycle trek across Western Canada and into Alaska. Sadly, Pingo fell from his perch on a motorcycle headlight unnoticed.

What are the chances of four people losing their monkeys, meeting up on a fjord cruise in Seward, Alaska?

The Missing George Mystery was solved, but the trip had even more oddities in store for us. Two hours out from the port, a woman broke her foot. The boat had to turn around. Most of the passengers were from a cruise ship. They would miss out on the rest of the tour because they had to return to their cruise ship at a specific time.

Those of us not with the cruise ship were offered the chance to resume the tour. Of course we jumped on the opportunity. We went from a packed tour boat of two hundred tourists to a couple dozen.

We had the run of the boat, and a crew suddenly with few guests to attend to. It was heaven. We saw sea otters, puffins, whales, and sea lions. We heard glacier ice snapping like thunder, and watched slabs of glacier fall into the water.

I got a mocktail chilled with a chunk of glacier ice.

When I texted the trauma of losing George, then having him returned by Canadians, the grandkids made sure we kept an eye on him the rest of the trip. George made it back to Colorado with us.

Exposure to new sights, sounds, smells, and people was good for my imagination. There are dozens of opportunities for mayhem at sea. I’m sure I’ll come up with some tour boat mysteries soon.

Routine and Novelty

by Shelley Burbank

What is better for creativity: routine or novelty? 

For the past eight months I've been living halfway around the world in a foreign (ish) country. Novelty. 

However, I knew exactly ONE person when I moved to Guam, and that was my husband. Since then I've met a few of his co-workers and some very friendly ladies in the exercise classes I attend a couple times a week, but I lack the kind of friendships that lead to coffee-dates, mani-pedis, hang-outs beside the pool, shopping afternoons, art museum mornings, and ladies-who-lunch lunches. Much of my time is my own. My weekdays are pretty much the same, week after week, month after month. Routine. 

This expatriate adventure in Micronesia has been a unique combination of extreme novelty and extreme routine all at the same time. Every single day spent in my apartment is pretty much the same, but once I step outside the door--boom! I'm hit by unusual sights, sounds, and smells, not to mention humidity-levels. 

All of this was somewhat expected. I knew I'd be a little lonely. I knew I'd have a cool opportunity to learn about a different culture and corner of the world. I had visions of using this time to write a series of novellas set in Guam as well as a couple of full-length novels set Stateside. So far, I haven't gotten into the kind of flow I'd hoped, and this has led me to contemplate the effects of both routine and novelty on creativity. Here's what I've noticed so far. 

When I am sticking to a routine, a schedule, for writing, I tend to get more done. My fingers and my mind remain limber, and I'm able to put a decent number of words on the page every day. I plow through my outline, scenes and chapters pile up, and I finish projects and meet deadlines with ease.

Routine, then, seems very good for productivity. Sometimes it can even lead to inspiration out of sheer boredom. A desperate voice in the back of my mind whispers, "Please, PLEASE, if we have to sit here staring at this stupid computer screen for five hours today, think up something funny or wild or twisty, I beg you!"

But there inevitably comes a time when my mood dips below boredom into the blahs. The blahs are the enemy of creativity. When ennui hits, nothing seems compelling. Every idea is deemed too dumb, too unoriginal, too unbelievable. This is when creativity needs a hit of novelty. An afternoon at a museum. A trip up the coast. A new exercise routine. A gathering of strangers who might become friends. 

Too much newness or change can backfire, however. Such is the case with my recent trip across multiple times zones for a visit back in Maine. New impressions, new scenery, snatches of conversations in airport dining rooms and gift shops; catching up with old friends and family; routines thrown out the window; a full calendar of visits and visitors, dropping into a dead sleep at 8:30 p.m. from sheer psychological exhaustion. Being overstimulated keeps my head whirling, unable to slow down enough to plan, to plot, to settle into the rhythm of language and story. 

Like eating an entire homemade apple pie in one sitting, drastic change can be too much of a good thing! Instead of a stomach ache I have a creativity ache. Ouch.   

All this might sound complicated, but really this is just the normal ebb and flow in the writing life, despite the fact that right now my ebbs and flows are a bit more extreme. I've learned, through experience, to take each stage as it comes, to be patient with myself on the slow, boring, and difficult days, and to let my expectations slide during those crazy, over-scheduled times. Most important, I try to appreciate those miraculous stretches of days when everything balances and I experience creative flow while conforming to a daily routine. 

Here are some tricks and tips I've used for getting into a creative rhythm while avoiding the blahs:

1. Schedule your writing time. Maybe it's one hour first thing in the morning or every Sunday afternoon. If you are one of those people who can bear down for 10-15 hours a day for a few weeks or a month, go for it. Making a schedule and sticking with it tells your brain, "Hey, it's time to play!" 

2. Make creativity dates with yourself. This is something that Julia Cameron advocates in her book The Artist's Way. She calls it an "artist date" and advocates a weekly, two-hour block of time where you wander in an art gallery or a craft store or take a nature hike or a swim or a concert, anything that is engaging and interesting and fun rather than "work" or "obligation." This is something I need to work on. It's so easy for me to succumb to a rut and ignore the signs of creativity depletion. When I DO force myself to get out of my apartment and into a specialty shop or even a walk along a new section of my village, I feel uplifted and energized.

3. Balance social time and alone time. Your ratio will be different than mine and will depend on things like introversion/extroversion, job demands, family obligations, and your interest in extracurricular activities and clubs (church, community meetings, pickleball league, Boy Scout leader duties, etc.) In my experience as an introvert, I'm apt to accidentally over-schedule my time which depletes my energy, not only psychologically and physically, but also creatively. If you are an extrovert, you will need more stimulation and "people time." Either way, it's perfectly okay to say "no" to any activity that doesn't fit your needs. 

4. Exercise. Walking is especially helpful for getting the creative juices flowing. I don't know why, but there's plenty of anecdotal evidence. See: Charles Dickens and Stephen King. You can combine your exercise time with your alone time or you can exercise with other people. Your choice!   

5. Meditation. I've experimented with this over the past few years, and when I'm consistent with it, I find my ability to focus improves and I'm even able to sleep better.   

6. Try some other form of art. This year I've challenged myself to learn to draw. I'm not very good at it, but when I'm concentrating on an image or shading or coloring, it's like a little break for my writing "muscles." Crafts like knitting or scrapbooking or cooking apply here. 

Right now my head feels stuffed with cotton batting and my eyes are closing. I've had no time for writing or thinking in over a week. I'm zapped from socializing, and this is made even worse by many months of forced solitude to which I all-too-easily adjusted. It will be a miracle if this post makes any sense at all. I hope it does. If not, I tried. Don't judge me too harshly. 

It's been a challenging year. 

Multiple Gunshot Suicide & the Suspension of Disbelief, by Cynthia Leal Massey

Type M 4 Murder is pleased as can be to host guest author Cynthia Leal Massey, whose wonderful new release, historical crime mystery Well of Deception, is set for release on Oct. 7.  You can preorder here!

Multiple Gunshot Suicide & the Suspension of Disbelief

by Cynthia Leal Massey

The old saying, “Truth is stranger than fiction,” reminds me of a problem I had with my crime mystery, Well of Deception, that is being released October 7. The novel was inspired by a real murder that happened in 1958 on a farm in south Texas. I began doing research on the victim and her killer and learned they were both part of a family with a history of accidental deaths, murders, and suicides. Initially, I was going to write a nonfiction account but soon realized that writing fiction would be a better way to tell the story, which did not, in my mind, have an adequate explanation for why this murder occurred.

One of the real suicides that I fictionalized in the story was of a family member who shot herself with a rifle three times before succumbing. She was found sprawled in her farmhouse bathroom with a rifle between her legs pointed at her torso. I set the scene as described in a newspaper account and her death certificate. When my critique group read the scene, they all balked. “Surely she was murdered,” they all agreed. “The killer obviously planted the rifle there.”

What really bothered them was the three shots from a rifle. One shot was believable, maybe even two, but three? “Perhaps the medical examiner was either inept or protecting somebody?” they said.

It didn’t even matter when I showed them her death certificate. I realized then, that despite the reality, I would have to change it in my fictional world so that my readers wouldn’t have the same disbelief. Remember that good fiction relies on the suspension of disbelief.

Because of their comments, I too began to question the three shots. Shortly after this, I learned that my county’s Medical Examiner’s Office was sponsoring a course on “Medical Death Investigation” for law enforcement entities. I was allowed to take the two-day course, which was taught by several prominent medical examiners, including the famed pathologist and expert on gunshot wounds Dr. Vincent di Maio, who passed away in 2022 at the age of 81. The course involved everything from the causes and manner of death—natural, accidental, suicide, homicide—and the 3 to 5% of ME cases, which are “undetermined.”

I learned that suicides in which multiple gunshot wounds are present are uncommon, but not rare. There are various reasons this can happen—flinching at the time the trigger is pulled is one. In the case of the person I based my character on, she used a .20-20 rifle, according to the newspaper account. While this is also not common, it has been reported that such cases exist, and the fact that she used a rifle probably contributed to the three wounds—one to the left side of the head, one to the left side of the neck, and one to the abdomen, which is the one shot that probably killed her.

I spoke to Dr. di Maio after the course, told him about the particulars of the suicide and asked him if it was possible she killed herself. He nodded. “Oh yes. I once had a case of a young man who shot himself 14 times before he died. He used a handgun in that case… but I’ve seen multiple rifle shot suicides as well.” Case closed.

I sat near a Justice of the Peace from a small rural county and when I told her I was writing a book and that one of my characters based on a real woman had committed suicide in her bathroom, she said, “Women often kill themselves in bathrooms. It’s easier to clean.” Thinking of others to the end, I thought.

Suicide is such a stigma that families refuse to believe such a thing of their loved one. In the case of this woman, shot three time, supposedly by her own hand, this was certainly the case. Her family all believed she was murdered. I was able to use this in the novel through some intense exchanges between family members and law enforcement throughout the scenes involving her death.

Bottom line for fiction writers: just because something is true doesn’t make it believable. Few people outside of law enforcement and forensics know about multiple gunshot suicides. Rather than alienate a majority of readers, I tweaked the suicide scene in a way that didn’t take away the truth of what happened and how. It was a small tweak but seemed to mollify my critique group. Let’s just say, we split the difference. 

Suggested Reading:

“Cause of Death, a writer’s guide to death, murder & forensic medicine,” by Keith D. Wilson, M.D.

“Gunshot Wounds, Practical Aspects of Firearms, Ballistics, and Forensic Techniques,” Vincent J. M. Di Maio, M.D.

Audiobooks

 by Sybil Johnson

I'm a firm believer that every book should be available in as many formats as possible. They all serve their own purpose. I admit I prefer print books in general, but I don't hate the other versions. I like ebooks for when I travel or when my eyes are tired. Enlarging the font in the latter case is a big help. I've listened to audiobooks a fair amount, sometimes because it's the only version available of an older book. I even have a few favorite narrators who I think do a particularly good job. Audiobooks are also important so those who are blind or have particularly bad eyesight can enjoy the books.

One of the things I waned when my Auora Anderson mystey series came out was it to be available in audiobook format. I listen to music, podcasts and audiobooks when I paint. I’m sure other crafters do this as well so I thought this would be a good fit. Especially since the books are set in the world of decorative painting.

So I was pretty excited when the first 3 books came out from Tantor Media. I got an advance for each one. I also got to put my two cents in for whch voice over aritist would narrate the book. Unfortunately, they didn't sell well enough for Tantor to pick up books 4 (Designed For Haunting) and 5.(Ghosts of Painting Past.)

Recently, I discovered that audiobooks for books 4 and 5 are available through Amazon. They are AI generated. Apparently, they've been available for a while. I just didn't know about it.

I have mixed feelings about AI narrated audiobooks. On the one hand, they make books available in audio that probably wouldn’t be otherwise. On the other hand, they take away work from voice over artists who would do a better job than any AI narration.

I was curious so I bought the audio narration for books 4 (Designed For Haunting) and 5 (Ghosts of Painting Past) to see what they’re like. It only cost me $1.99 since I had bought the ebook versions. Otherwise, they are $9.99. Still cheaper than ones created the traditional way. Or, if you have an Audible subscription, you can listen to them through that.

They actually weren’t that bad. They start by saying that it uses “virtual voice computer gnerated narration for audio books”. The voice that was chosen by my publisher was nice. In general, it did a good job. Dialog wasn’t bad (probably would be better if voiced by a real person). Some syllables were stressed differently than I would do it, but overall it was good. It didn’t say “guacamole” correctly, leaving off that last –e syllable. That was the only issue I heard. Overall, I could listen to it without cringing. (Okay, I cringed when I heard the words I wrote, but that’s just me.)

This was probably a good solution for these two books since it was unlikely any company would want to put out those two books as audiobooks.

As I see it, the advantages for AI narrated audio:

• Cheaper to produce
• Cheaper for customer to buy
• The fact it’s cheaper to produce means more books that wouldn’t have audio book versions would have them.

The disadvantages:

• Takes away work from voice over artists
• Voice over artists still do a better job of narration

I know some authors who are exploring this option for their books. I’m curious about how even to do it. What’s the process? How many options are there in terms of voice? Can you have multiple voices? So many questions.

I think I will be looking into this in the future. I’ll let you know what I find out.

What are your opinions about AI narration for audiobooks?

Second Sock Syndrome

By Charlotte Hinger

"I simply don't understand this second sock syndrome," said my friend Angela. "I'm Virgo and German and it wouldn't even occur to me not to knit the second sock."

This was in reply to my friend, Karen, also a member of my knitting group that I've attended since I moved to Fort Collins. Karen said she had at least 22 single socks. She couldn't bring herself to knit the same sock twice. It was dull to use the same yarn again for the very same pattern. 

Sadly, it's true I hate to knit that second sock. Above is my valiant attempt to knit two socks at once on magic loop needles. 

Angela and Karen's back and forth brought to mind the sheer tedium of wrestling with multiple drafts of a book. At some point books are no longer fun. And yet. . . .

There's a special thrill when authors find just the right word, when plots click into place, when we can't tear ourselves away from the work. 

I worked hard on the above pair of socks. There was sense of pride when I successfully turned the heel. 

There was a sense of pride last week when a really difficult plot screwup got straightened out. 

I'm home free on the sock. It's straight knitting from now on. 

As to the book, this is the stage where I try for the perfect word. Recently I read Charlotte McConaghy's Wild Dark Shore. The accumulated effect of powerful language coupled with her magnificent plot can't have been accidental. 

I would love to know how many drafts she went through. 

 

The Wind of the Day

 Steve/Michael

Imagine the array of brain cells you use for writing. They edit, type, color, format. And they have ideas. Some ideas are a product of logical development, but the best ones hit you like Moe with a mackeral, smacking into consciousness. They are bright and shiny. Sometimes they come with context and background and life, usually more than you can remember after the flash bulb of the idea. And then they are gone. Did you capture them? Is that even possible?

Imagine all those brain cells as little magnets, which they kinda are, little electromagnets running off your internal wiring system and battery. Ever hear the critical joke: If you lined up 500 of the leading Economists in the world, they would all point in different directions. Your brain magnets are like that, whirling, spinning, pointing but commonly not all in same direction. Suddenly, maybe due to a quick stimulus, a sound, an image, a hiccup, they momentarily, briefly, fleetingly, ephemeraly, line up and an IDEA happens!

They have life, context, they are clever, Pulitzer Prize-worthy ideas, and then they are gone. Did you write it down, madly noting phrases, colors, sounds, impact, meaning, subtext in a mad note to yourself? Don't worry format, get the gist on paper! Now! Interpret it later. Any thinking other than this Flash Idea will interfere with the process and destroy the beauty of its symmetry. 

Oh, you confidently fool yourself by assigning the idea to your wonderful, whirling brain. I'll remember. No, you won't. You might remember some basic element, but the ephemeral glory of the idea is not memorable. Your day will include doing the laundry, noting things for the grocery list, trying to remember that promise you just made to a friend in an email. I'm in my 70's. Yes, the head may be slower, but not by much, because I keep things busy and renewed. But....

I can forget what I was doing while I'm doing it.  You?

Really! Because it's busy in there and thoughts quickly get overwritten. The day will erase the Idea or overwrite it with senseless BS until the magic is gone.

Great Ideas blow away in the wind of the day.

My writing space is Full of paper. My telephone bill occupied two sheets of paper, but the bill took only the first page and a half. The Legal BS completed the page and spilled over to half the next page. I used to just keep the bill portion, but look at that second sheet. It's a tri-fold of mostly clean, clear white paper. I carefully tear the tri-fold into three panels of about 3.5 by 8 inches, and put them in a narrow box next to my writing space. Paper ready to be snatched up for the next flash of an idea. Titled, numbered, if necessary, dated after the rush of the idea has passed. Of course, now I have the task of properly preserving and filing, and using these ideas, but I'm doing better with retaining the Idea.