Voices

Donis here. I'm so glad to read about my blogmates finally achieving a measure of freedom through vaccination. My husband and I are fully vaccinated, too, and though we have gone shopping without masks and out to eat a couple of times, we haven't taken the great leap into travel yet. Part of the reason we're still staying close to home is that vaccinated or not, I haven't been feeling tip-top lately. I did mention a few months ago that I've been experiencing occasional bouts of vertigo, and I have been checked out by specialists who can't seem to find a definitive answer. I keep plugging, looking up new specialists, trying new things, etc. (Acupuncture seems to help a lot). I will say the episodes are much milder now, fewer and further between, but I still get them, so I've become rather neurotic about the idea of flying off into the great unknown. 

I feel better if I don't stare at the computer for any great length of time, which adds to the difficulty of working on my current WIP, not to mention keeping up with my online promotion or even answering emails. However, reading a physical book doesn't seem to bother me, so now that bookstores and libraries are open, I've catching up on my reading. 

I've particularly enjoyed three books I've recently read: Ann Parker's Mortal Music, Sheila Lowe's Dead Letters (available Aug. 3), and Mariah Fredricks' Death of a Showman.

One wonderful thing these three books have in common is their beautiful and appropriate use of style and language, qualities that lift a story out of the ordinary, as far as I'm concerned. 

I think sometimes that writing is very much like singing.  For some singers, their own voices are the most important element of the performance, and the song is simply a vehicle to show off their virtuosity.  For other singers, their delivery is secondary to the song itself, and though their voices are beautiful, they don’t purposely draw attention to them with all kinds of vocal gymnastics.

Both styles of singing are wonderful. I love to listen to a beautiful voice. It almost doesn’t matter what Maria Callas sings since her voice is so gorgeous. Same with Sinatra. His voice and delivery transcend the material.  

Sometimes, however, the song, or the story itself, is so beautiful that a true artist will step out of the way and deliver the music or the words in a plain and straightforward style and let the material speak for itself.

Guest Blogger Ann Parker

Type M is thrilled to welcome the incredibly talented Ann Parker, whose Silver Rush series has won multiple accolades and deserved every one of them. Her latest, Mortal Music, was just released in January 2020.

Music, Murder, and Mayhem in the Silver Rush series

By Ann Parker

When I fashioned my protagonist Inez Stannert waaaaay back at the start of the Silver Rush series, I had a few "givens." She would originally be from the East. When her story opens in the first book, SILVER LIES, she would be running the Silver Queen saloon in the silver-rush boomtown of Leadville, Colorado, in the late 1870s. She'd be a married woman, whose husband had mysteriously disappeared, leaving her to handle the saloon along with her husband's business partner. And, she would be an accomplished pianist.

At this point, around 20 years removed, I can't exactly recall when the musicality came to mind in her character development, but it must have been early in the musing process. It made sense, given that music has always been a strong component of my life. Both of my parents were pianists. In fact my father, in his youth, wanted to be a concert pianist (but my grandmother, raising three children during the Depression, put the kibosh on that dream and he became a physician instead). When young, I played a variety of instruments, including the violin and the piano, with great enthusiasm at the start and then with waning interest before exiting lessons, stage left. My brothers had more stick-to-it-iveness than me, and both play instruments to this day—one professionally, the other semi-so. It almost went without saying that, of course, there would be music in my mysteries, and that Inez would carry the tune.

I gave the Silver Queen saloon a much-used and abused upright, and Inez a baby grand piano in her home. As I researched and wrote the first few books in the series, I listened to a lot of radio for inspiration. I can still recall the frisson that gripped me when I was driving and first heard Mendelssohn's Lieder ohne Worte (Songs without Words). I pulled over and scribbled down the information so I could work it into my debut, SILVER LIES. For that book, the musical theme is mostly classical—Bach, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Mozart, Vivaldi. In the second book of the series, IRON TIES, music from the Civil War and from the railroads get their due, with The Battle Cry of Freedom (Union and Confederate versions) being the spark that ignites a scene of murderous mayhem in Inez's saloon.

Just a few of the CDs I collected while researching and writing the early Silver Rush books. And yes, I still have a CD player!

Back in those days, my musical reference library was mostly composed of CDs. But time marches on, and so did the series and Inez, until she marched straight to San Francisco, California in the most recent two books of the series, A DYING NOTE and MORTAL MUSIC. Here, her profession took a turn. For a variety of reasons, it didn't make sense for my 19th-century protagonist to continue in the saloon business, however music shows Inez the way forward, and she becomes manager of a music store. Thus, I plunged headlong into the music scene of San Francisco 1881.

In A DYING NOTE, when a young musician washes onto the shores of the San Francisco Bay, Inez discovers he has ties to her past in Colorado. The music in this book reflects that which brought Inez comfort in bygone days—classics such as Beethoven's Für Elise and Bach’s Prelude to the Well Tempered Clavichord. But it is in MORTAL MUSIC, the seventh and most recent in the series, that music takes center stage, and I can blame (or thank) my fictional prima donna, Theia Carrington Drake, for that. When Theia hears Inez play the piano, she asks Inez to be her accompanist for several high-profile personal appearances in San Francisco. However, Theia is the kind of diva who sows discord, resentment, and trouble in her wake. It doesn't take long for Inez to realize that a murderer is stalking the city’s opera halls, and that Theia may be the next victim.

Opera was wildly popular in San Francisco, even in the 19th century. 

In MORTAL MUSIC, I focused on opera and the musical theater scene in 19th-century San Francisco. Thank goodness for my professional-musician brother and for my editor, who is an opera buff! I was able to glean how professional musicians work with singers and zero in on appropriate pieces of music. I wove into my story opera arias including Dove sono i bei momenti from Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro as well as popular (and slightly scandalous) ditties such as You Naughty, Naughty Men from the musical extravaganza The Black Crook. (The Black Crook, which featured singers and dancers in short skirts and tights, was famously reviewed in 1868 by Mark Twain who wrote that the musical "debauched many a pure mind" adding "the scenery and the legs are everything.") For the most recent books, I didn't have to rely on CDs; I could wander over to Pandora and YouTube, listen to selections over and over to my heart's content, and pin my selections on the music page of my Pinterest site. (Isn't technology wonderful?)

As I wade into the next book of the series, I know that music will again play a part, although how big a role remains to be seen. All I can say at this point is that with San Francisco being the major West Coast port in the 1880s, the songs of the sea are calling to me...

Coda: Here is a short list of links to some of the music in the Silver Rush series. If nothing else, listen to Dove sono I bei momenti and follow it up with You Naughty, Naughty Men. Click, listen, and enjoy!
Felix Mendelssohn's Lieder Ohne Worte
Franz Liszt’s Grandes Etudes de Paganini
Ludwig van Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata
George Frederick Root's Battle Cry of Freedom (the Union version and the Confederate version, both performed by Bobby Horton, a noted authority of music from the Civil War era)
Thomas P. Westendorf's I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Dove sono i bei momenti from Le Nozze di Figaro
You Naughty, Naughty Men from The Black Crook (composer: G. Bickwell; lyricist, T. Kennick)

-------------------------

Ann Parker is a science writer by day and fiction writer at night. Her award-winning Silver Rush historical mystery series, set in the 1880s U.S. West, features Colorado saloon-owner Inez Stannert. When Inez leaves Colorado and moves west to San Francisco, California, she re-invents herself as the manager of a music-store and a 19th-century "angel investor" for women-owned small businesses. The latest book, MORTAL MUSIC, finds Inez dealing with dastardly doings in San Francisco's opera world. Broadway Direct (which provides Broadway theater news and reviews) notes, " The period details of life on and off the stage in the 19th century are fun dressing for Parker’s usual clever mysteries. Inez Stannert will surely be back for an encore." For more information about Ann and her books, see www.annparker.net

Putting Yourself Out There

Staying connected

Very interesting posts this week on the joys of being a writer. John wondered about the effectiveness of social media, Sybil pondered the usefulness of going to conferences. When it comes to promotion, what one writer is willing and able to do may be quite different from another. I enjoy conferences and think they're very useful for making connections. But I don't go to many, one or two a year if family health and finances permit. I'm not a particularly shy person, and I'm not at all bothered about speaking before a group. But I'm slow to warm up in a social situation, at least until I feel I have a handle on whomever I'm talking to. I told a friend once that I think I was born to be an observer in this life. This is a great quality to have if you're a writer, but not as useful if you need to work the room. I actually do make the rounds at every conference I attend and talk to as many people as I can, but I'll never be as effective at it as someone as outgoing and naturally talented as, say, Louise Penny. However, I'm guessing I'm a much better schmoozer than J.D. Salinger, who could buy and sell me. So as effective as that technique is, it must not be the end-all and be-all.

I've been doing this author thing for years, and I keep trying a little of this and a little of that, and attempting to judge what promotional activity works best for me. Other writers have been extraordinarily helpful to me, but I can't afford to go to as many conferences as I'd like in order to make those connections. I'm much less promiscuous with bookstore signings than I was when I started out. After sitting in lonely solitude behind a table a few times, I now choose my bookstores and signing times with great care, and do everything I can to publicize the event beforehand. For every other bookstore I come across, I find it much more effective to talk to the booksellers.

I'm very lucky to live within driving distance of Poisoned Pen Bookstore, which is owned by my editor (whose husband happens to be my publisher). Whether I can travel or not, most mystery authors eventually find their way to Poisoned Pen for an event. This a a wonderful way for me to keep in touch with the many author friends I've made over the years. Witness the above photo of Yours Truly, Ann Parker, and our own Vicki Delany, having lunch after their event in Scottsdale this month. Then we did a library panel together, below, looking much more proper, and as we know, looks can be deceiving.

Ann Parker, Vicki Delany, Donis Casey

I find that the more I speak to groups, the more I'm asked to speak. I get a lot of library business. I was a librarian for 20 years, so I know a lot of library types all over the country. Book clubs are good. If you can find a non-book group to talk to that has some sort of connection to what you write about, that can be fabulous for your sales. History groups are good for me. I know another writer who used to sell her books at an annual zoo event and cleans up. (Makes money. Though I think she does actually volunteer to muck out cages.)

My husband, however, would rather stand on his head in a mud puddle while poking himself in the eye than speak in front of a group. I understand that most people are terrified of public speaking, so my publicity plan, such as it is would be torture for them.

The internet is a godsend, if you know how to work it, though less so for us Luddites. I try to do something on Facebook, author page or personal page, every day. I don't tweet. This may be a big mistake, but the very idea makes me tired. It would be hard for me to host an internet radio program, because I simply don't have the technical skills--or the interest. My webmaster, who is also my brother, told me that my website should be "all Donis, all the time", and not concentrate solely on my books. This gives you leeway to change your focus, if you decide to do something other than what you have been doing. Change genres, for instance, or become a playwright, or an actor. Do working actively on blogs and Facebook and Goodreads and BookBub increase my readership? I don't know, to tell the truth. But I'm a writer, damn it, and more writing is always better than less. On my own site, I've more or less kept a public diary of my experiences as a novelist, and whether it's instructive to others or not, after a dozen years I have written enough material for a book.

This writing game is tough. And when it comes to selling yourself, you just have to put your head down and go. What works for one may not work for you, so you try everything you can manage and do the best you can. The really important thing, though, is to do the best you can without making yourself miserable. Life is too short.

p.s. and aside: This has nothing to do with the price of tea in China, but I tend to write short. Or, more accurately, I write long manuscripts and end up whittling them down to the nub. I want to get to the point.

Beware the Hoodlums!

Ann Parker--science/corporate writer by day and crime fiction author by night--writes the award-winning Silver Rush historical series, featuring saloon-owner Inez Stannert, set in 1880s Colorado. The newest in the series, A Dying Note, brings Inez to the golden city of San Francisco, California, in 1881. Publishers Weekly calls this latest addition to the series "exuberant" adding that it "...brims with fascinating period details, flamboyant characters, and surprising plot twists."

Hoodlums in 19th Century San Francisco by Ann Parker

As a writer of historical mysteries, I'll admit I am a fool for period slang, intriguing turn of phrase, and the etymology of words. Language-related trivea is a rabbit-hole I disappear down time and time again when I should be doing other things. . .such as putting words on the page of whatever book I'm working on. So, it was with great delight that I sumbled across the background of the word "hoodlum" during my research for A Dying Note, the newest book in my Silver Rush historical mystery series.

Hoodlum is hardly an uncommon word, even today. In fact, you can view its image over time with a neat-o-Google algorithm called the Ngram Viewer in Good Books. (NOTE: The Ngram Viewer graphs the frequency in percentage terms, of the text being searched, over the time period being specified.)

As you can see right away, "hoodlum" first cropped up around 1870 and ascended in popular usuage from then. However, were you aware that the term was originally coined in San Francisco?

I wasn't!

That is until I stumbled across an online SFGate article titled "'Hoodlums,' a distinctive San Franciso product of the 1870s," by Gary Kamia.

For more historical edification, I turned to (take a deep breath, here comes the title) Americanism, Old and New: a dictionary of words phrases and colloquialisms peculiar to the United State, British America, the West Indies, &c., their derivation, meaning and application, together with numerous anecdotal, historical, explanatory and folk-lore notes. This vastly entertaining reference book by John Stephen Farmer was published in 1889, and you can read it, and download it from the Internet Archive here.

Farmer's definition of hoodlum is a whole lot shorter than the title of his book:

Hoodlum.--a young rough. The term originated in San Francisco, but is now general throughout the Union. 

For a historical perspective on hoodlums and hoodlumism, check out Lights and Shades in San Francisco by Benjamin E. Lloyd published in 1876, which has an entire chapter on the subject (and yes, you can view and download the book with this link I've provided).

A couple of passages from Lights and Shades involving hoodlums caught my eye. The first--quoted below--discusses the sorry state of San Francisco's "corner groceries," which, as it turns out, are not at all what I initially thought they were (i.e., local stores to buy canned goods, mild, cheese, what-have-you):

Of evenings, these corner grocery bar-rooms are largely patronized as "loafing places," by the mechanics, laborers and idlers, whose home are in the neighborhood. A simple lunch is set out here, and also a card table is provided. Here young men and middle-aged men, boys and grey beards congregate at night, to talk vulgar slang, play cards for the "the drinks," and smoke and chew--to go home at a late hour with heavy heads and light purses. It is at these places that the youthful San Franciscan Hoodlums are developed.

This second excerpt is the opening of the Lights and Shades chapter on hoodlums:

THE Hoodlum had his origin in San Francisco. He is the offspring of San Francisco society. What particular phase in social life possesses the necessary fertility to produce such fruit is not obvious. It is certain, however, that the seed has been sown in productive soil, for the harvest is abundant.

The hoodlum has been called a "ruffian in embryo." It would be a better definition to call him simply a ruffian. He has all the essential qualities of the villain. He is acquainted with crime in all its froms. The records of vice are his textbooks. He is a free-born American in its widest sense...

If these passages pique your interest, I encourage you to wander on over and read the rest of Lights and Shades, which offers an intriguing perspective on the world of 1870s--1880s San Francisco (and proved a very useful reference to me for A Dying Note.)

Finally, I just have to add a coda to this post. Th illustration below is from a book titled Quad's Odds by M. Quad 9 (publication date 1875). Here is the text that accompanies the picture:

It requires nerve and courage to be a hoodlum. The boy has got to have the heart of a man, the courage of a lion, and the constitution of an Arab. Only one in a hundred gives him credit for half his worth. No one cares whether he grown fat or starves: whether Fortune lifts him up or casts him down; whether night finds him quarters in a box or a comfortable bed. He's a hoodlum, and hoodlums are generally supposed capable of getting along somehow, the same as a horse turned out to graze. Not one boy in ten can be a hoodlum. Nature never overstocks the market. If left an orphan the average boy dies, or has relatives to care for him, or falls in the way of a philanthropist and comes up a straight-haired young man with a sanctimonious look. The true hoodlum is born to the business. He swallows marbles and thimbles as soon as he can creep, begins to fall down stairs when a year old, and found in the alley as soon as he can walk.

Beware the hoodlums! (The title of this illustration from Quad's Odds is, believe it or not, "The Future Presidents." I shall refrain from political comment, difficult though it is...)

For more information about Ann and her series, chick out http://www.annparker.net.