Drumroll...

 Barbara here, finally. I have been AWOL from this blog for a month due to unexpected medical challenges but I am back!Albeit late and with a short post. In my last post I revealed the official title of my next Inspector Green novel (number 12: SHIPWRECKED SOULS. The book is due out in January 2025 and is currently grinding its way through the promotional and editorial phases. At the moment the manuscript is sitting on my computer with edits from the my editor, all done these days electronically with the track changes feature. My first few Inspector Green  books were printed off and mailed to the publisher where the editor crossed out, scribbled in the margins, and stuck various coloured post-it notes that stuck out of the manuscript like the spikes of a stegosaurus. This unwieldy piles of paper was then mailed back to me and I made the adjustments on my computer copy, printed it out, and mailed back again. And so it went.

In 2024, it is all so much simpler, and cheaper. I am slowly working my way through the queries, comments, and suggestions, but it has beeen slow and intermittent because of my health issues and frequent medical appointments. But I'll get there!

Here's the teaser. The death of an elderly woman from Ukraine leads Green on an emotional journey into his own past, where he makes a startling discovery.

And now, without further ado, here is the proposed cover, designed by the talented Laura Boyle and her team at Dundurn Press. I think it looks mysterious, sinister, and perfect.

Now we wait.

What's in a backstory?

 What interesting posts we've had on Type M recently! A theme has emerged about the development of character in mysteries, especially the revelation of backstory. How much backstory is so much that it clogs up the plot? How can you reveal it so that it doesn't clog up the plot? Do we need backstory anyway?

Most of these questions relate to the main protagonist in the story or series, but all main characters should have a story. Backstory means the past experience of the character that influences what they are doing in the story and why. Biographical detail, like where they grew up and what their parents did for a living, is relevant mostly insofar as it informs what they do in the story, although writers may put it in to capture a historical time or add richness and layers. Some readers will love the detail, others will skip it, just as they do description. Because of this, deciding how far a writer can tax his reader's patience is tricky.

As a psychologist, I love character in stories, and the more richness and depth in that character, the better. Backstory is essential to adding layers, but I have a sixth sense for simplistic psychology that doesn't ring true. Don't just toss in an abusive childhood, or overbearing mother, or absent father, and expect me to believe it explains everything. People's lives are complex and full of different influences, and they make sense of their experiences in different ways. 

I like to create stories in which the reader can imagine walking in the character's shoes. It doesn't matter if it's the sixteenth century or the future, or even if the character is an alien or a cat, the reader should be able to relate to the universal experiences.

The protagonists in all three of my series have significant backstories that play a huge role in why they act as they do. I'm basically a pantser. I don't draw up character sketches or biographies ahead of time, because I only get to know my characters as we go along. In all cases, when I started the series, I had only the vaguest ideas of what their stories were, and the details unfolded gradually over the series. This was not a deliberately coy decision on my part to stretch out the suspense, but rather the result of my adding details to their backstory that related to the theme of each book. In one book I might explore their relationship to their siblings, because siblings played a big role in that book. In another book it might be fathers.

Two examples come to mind. Inspector Green is an obsessive homicide investigator who is passionate about justice. When I wrote the first book, I didn't have a clear idea why; I just knew I needed a detective determined to catch bad guys. The second book, ONCE UPON A TIME, involved an old war crime from the Second World War, and suddenly I realized the story would be more powerful if Green had a person connection, and before I even thought about it, I had made his elderly father a Holocaust survivor. As I explored that backstory, I realized that was the basis for his drive for justice.

My second example is Amanda Doucette's penchant for getting herself into trouble by trying to help people. I knew the reason why she did this; a traumatic experience during her time as a foreign air worker that had left her chasing redemption. I had hinted about the details in the first four books in the series, but it's not until the latest book (in progress and set for release next year) that I truly delve into the backstory. One of the characters in the book has PTSD, and in helping him, Amanda faces her own.

Relating the backstory to the theme of the book helps to enrich both the character and the theme, and should go some way to ensuring it facilitates the plot instead of clogging it up.

On switching hats, or boats in mid-stream

Today I'm tempted to take Rick's approach from yesterday. See ya later, all! I'm off to the beach.

But before I go to the beach – AKA my cottage – I'll just make a few comments about another reality in a writer's life. Multi-tasking. Or multi-writing. If you write more than one book, or even worse, more than one series as I do, sooner or later you'll run up against it. You'll be doing final edits on one book, doing readings and talks about an earlier book, and beginning the creative process of imagining a third book.

In my case, I have just finished Book # 4 in the Amanda Doucette series, entitled THE ANCIENT DEAD. No sooner had I pressed "send" and emailed the manuscript to the publisher last week (exactly on its due date) when the mail carrier deposited the author copies of my fourth Cedric O'Toole on my doorstep. Time to promote BLOOD TIES and give Cedric his time at centre stage.

At the same time, however, having sent off THE ANCIENT DEAD, I am already turning my thoughts to the next book in my contract. The book that will be occupying my mind for the next year until its fall deadline. The book that has the provisional title (to appease the publisher) of DARKEST BEFORE DAWN, although that will probably change once I know what it's actually about. The book that has yet no shape or plot points and only the vaguest idea of a theme. The book that brings me from the badlands of Alberta, where I have been with Amanda for the last fifteen months, back to the the familiar streets of Ottawa.

The eleventh Inspector Green novel. After five years, he's back! It will feel very strange to step back into his life and surround myself with old friends I've known for years. Ottawa Police Inspector Michael Green is back but older, maybe wiser, and no longer in the thick of things in the police service.

This week, however, feels like a transition. I've never been able to write two books simultaneously. I can edit one book while writing the first draft of another; in fact, this is almost always required because the editor's critiques from the publishing house always arrive smack in the middle of the first draft efforts of the next book. But even so, I have to set the draft aside and re-immerse myself in the first book for however long the edits take. The setting, characters, mood, and even the styles feel different from one to another. Skipping between them would feel shallow and unauthentic. I don't think either would profit from the lack of full focus. I need time to get into the feel of each book and to get the creative muse humming.

So for the next couple of weeks, I am fiddling around doing nothing very profound but celebrating the arrival of BLOOD TIES. The book is due out on August 27, and received this very nice review from Booklist:

And then I'm off to enjoy the beach! Maybe give Inspector Green a quick call.

Canadian crime myths busted too

Rick's post gets to the heart of why we write crime fiction. We are creating a tale of human struggle, pain, and ultimately justice, using the device of the mystery novel. But in order to tell that tale so that it feels real and draws the reader into the struggle, most of us try to create a somewhat real world.

There are pitfalls. I can relate to Aline's experience with the cops and lawyers at the CWA conference. Real crime investigation is nothing like our fictional creations. In our defence, TV portrayals are worse. I don't know how many times I've yelled at the TV that the detectives shouldn't be traipsing all over the crime scene, picking up evidence and stepping over blood spatter. And that pathologists and coroners shouldn't hover over the body with their long blond locks trailing. And that DNA results don't come back from the lab in the blink of an eye.

When I was writing my first Inspector Green novel, Do or Die, I made up all the police and crime investigation stuff, basing it largely on both US and UK novels and shows I knew. When to my surprise a publisher bought it, I realized I'd better fix it up if I didn't want to look like a rank amateur, so I asked the Ottawa Police if someone on the force would be willing to read it. That was a stroke of excellent fortune. The police officer who read it was a crime fiction fan and he subsequently read all ten books in the series, as well as connecting me with specialists if I needed them. He was a priceless asset.

His first comment was just as Aline said. Inspectors don't investigate crime, they don't even oversee the investigation or direct resources to it. They are higher-level managers of an overall department which includes Major Crimes. My inspector should have the rank of detective. The person overseeing the case would be a Sergeant, and the person overseeing all the cases currently being investigated by Major Crimes would be a Staff Sergeant.

I was crushed. "Detective Green" did not roll off the tongue. It had no mystique. So I exercised a writer's prerogative and made him an inspector anyway, but one who was not happy to be out of the trenches and behind a desk. This allowed for a great deal of dramatic tension over the series as he tried to meddle and second-guess the sergeant who was actually running the case. It was not realistic but that was a small nod to realism.

One area where I do try to be more realistic is in crime scene analysis. Years ago I took a full-term police course in forensics and crime scene analysis so that I could use it effectively without causing SOCO investigators to hurl the book at the wall. My books do not deal with the minutiae of forensics, because the lifeblood of good fiction is human interaction and conflict, not fingerprint and fibre analysis. Most of my books focus on old fashioned interviewing and background investigation of suspects, family, friends, etc. It was very helpful to know how forensics works, however. For example, the coroner and the SOCO are in charge of the crime scene and do not allow anyone inside until they have finished processing it. That can be days.

So no detectives traipsing around picking up clues. Instead, they are given very detailed photos, diagrams, and reports of every aspect of the scene and the body. This is another potential source of tension as detectives chafe on the outskirts. And those forensics results obtained on the spot? Forget it. Evidence is packed up, stored in fridges if needed, and sent to the lab, and the whole thing can take weeks. Even months depending on priorities. But that delay is also useful, since it means that my detectives can get on with interviewing and solving the case while they wait.

Interviewing, etc. is one more area where we writers bend the rules a lot. Forget two or three dogged detectives doing all the legwork. Normally in a homicide case a whole lot of officers are deployed in the initial stages to conduct house-to-house interviews, follow up on tips from the public, watch videos and CCTV, and trace last known activities. But following sixty characters does not work in fiction. Readers' minds glaze over once you introduce the eighth constable. Hence the fiction of two or three main detectives and a supporting cast of perhaps another five. All other reports are funnelled through them.

One last point. It's true that most criminals are not too bright, and they often have to improvise and cover up on the fly, which does not go well. But dumb villains are no fun in fiction. They are not worthy adversaries and do not evade capture for 300 pages. So we invent the likes of Moriarty.

Forks and roundabouts; navigating multiple series

At the beginning of this new year, fresh and cold and full of possibilities, I find myself standing at a fork in the road. What choice to make? Which way to go? I have just submitted the third manuscript in my new Amanda Doucette series to my publisher, and although I have a few months of edits and such ahead, I have completed my three-book contract for this series. I do have one contractual obligation left to fulfill – the fourth book in my Rapid Reads Cedric O'Toole series, the deadline for which is in June – but beyond that, I have no major writing commitments on the horizon.

I began my published writing career in 1994 with a short story in a local anthology, and published quite a few short stories before publishing my first mystery novel, Do or Die, in 2000. In the subsequent fourteen years, I published ten novels in the Inspector Green series, which works out to more than a book every one and a half years. During that time I also wrote short stories and three Rapid Reads novellas. It was a busy pace.

During its ten-book run, the Inspector Green series garnered four Arthur Ellis Best Novel nominations, including two wins, and developed a loyal fan base. As with all long-running series, readers enjoyed spending time with the exasperating, hard-driving detective and his collection of regulars both on the police force and in his family. They followed his ups and downs and watched him grow as a character and a man, as did I.

Ten books seemed like a nice round number for me to give the series a rest and spread my wings with new characters, new settings, and new story styles. I'd spent fifteen years of my life with Inspector Green and as a writer, I didn't want the series or my writing to grow stale. So I proposed a new series to my publisher and was given a three-book contract to develop the Amanda Doucette series. New character – a woman for the first time – new cast of supporting characters, a different setting for each book, and a story style with far less inherent structure (police procedurals, no matter how you vary them, are essentially murder investigations).

At first I found it surprisingly difficult to switch gears. I couldn't hear Amanda's voice or get a handle on her reactions. After you've lived with a cast of characters for fifteen years, their voices come easily and you slip into their skins almost the moment you pick up your pen. Not so with Amanda. It's taken me three books to get to know her and to feel her from the inside as I write her scenes. I also found the looser story structure, with no clear forward momentum and a need to motivate Amanda's every move (why on earth would she do that instead of just calling 911?), much more of a challenge than I had expected. I am not a fan of thrillers, but found myself creating stories with thriller-like elements just to motivate Amanda's continued involvement. I still love traditional "unpeeling the onion" whodunits, but why on earth would Amanda unpeel the onion in the first place?

The Amanda Doucette series has received positive reaction from readers and reviewers, and I believe it has picked up some readers that Green did not. But some readers who love Inspector Green were upset by the change and wanted him back. Even now, although most are enjoying Amanda'a antics, they still hope I write another Green book. It's a dilemma that all writers of multiple series face. Each series has its fans, and often readers prefer one over the other. And now that I've written all three books in the Doucette contract, a new book in either series would probably be at least two years out. Six years after the last Inspector Green novel or two year after the last Doucette, Prisoners of Hope.

I love both my series, and would happily write either. Ideally I would like to alternate series, but there are practical questions to be asked. Can a series survive six years' absence? Does the Amanda Doucette series have a firm enough fan base that readers who love it will wait at least three years for the next installment? Do I know her well enough to put her on the shelf for a year or two and have her still come when called?

My instinct says that, after three books, Amanda may not be well enough established in readers' hearts and thoughts, especially if there is a three-year gap before the next. Four books may be enough, but that leaves an even longer gap before the next Green. I can't write more than one book a year and still retain my sanity. In fact, one book a year feels like a straitjacket sometimes, as other fun things like travel and grandchildren beckon.

So these are my thoughts as I stand on the threshold of the new year, facing a fork in the road. I'd be interested to hear what other writers have experienced, and what readers like. All this dithering may be moot, of course, if for some reason the publisher wants neither series, but that's a whole other fork in the road! Perhaps more like a roundabout.