Showing posts with label Kentucky Derby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kentucky Derby. Show all posts

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Weekend Guest--Tammy Kaehler

When Tammy Kaehler discovered the racing world, she was hooked by the contrast between its top-dollar, high-drama competition, and friendly, family atmosphere. Mystery fans and racing insiders alike have praised her award-winning Kate Reilly Mystery Series (Dead Man’s Switch, Braking Points, Avoidable Contact, and Red Flags), and Tammy takes readers back behind the wheel in her fifth entry, Kiss The Bricks. She works as a freelance writer in Southern California, where she lives with her husband and many cars. Find out more: www.tammykaehler.com.




Don’t Judge a Book by Its Hook

I turned the television on last weekend to watch the Kentucky Derby. It’s not totally out of character: I grew up riding horses and went to plenty of races, since I lived a mile from a horse racetrack. But as another auto racing fan said on Twitter, “I’m watching the Kentucky Derby, because I like all racing.”

But these days, my racing of choice typically has hundreds of horsepower, not just one (sorry, that’s the easy joke). And the races I watch or attend usually last longer than a couple minutes. But still, I turned on the Derby—while simultaneously searching for the article I’d seen earlier in the day: Derby storylines.


See, it’s easy to say “Tammy likes racing” or “I write about racing.” That’s the quickest and most memorable hook about my mystery series, and I do a lot to promote my racing approach (you may have seen me in racing team gear at a mystery convention). But of course the simplified message never tells the whole tale.

Because as much as it’s about racing for me, it’s more about the stories. Last weekend, I wanted to know the details behind the Derby runners and teams. When I’m at an auto race, I wander the paddock looking for the buzz around the drivers and teams. I like setting everyday characters, problems, challenges, wins, and losses against the backdrop of a gritty but glamorous pursuit. Racing is a microcosm of the real world, with every type of person from crook to hero to celebrity—and the added drama of a lot of money and life-or-death stakes.



I write about auto racing like Dick Francis wrote about steeplechasing. Like Cara Black writes about Paris. Like Patricia Cornwell writes about a medical examiner. Like Michael Connelly writes police procedurals. That’s not all our books are, but those are the settings for (hopefully) universal stories.

What I choose to write about is a woman who’s trying to be successful in an uber-competitive, male-dominated arena. She’s got to deal with sexism, the struggle to represent herself well to the rest of the world (especially to sponsors that will fund her racing), and the pressure to be outstanding at her job. Don’t tell me that’s not a universal story! Of course, where Kate Reilly differs from the rest of us (I assume) is that she ends up needing to investigate murders and other crimes.

But all of that took a paragraph to describe, and when you have ten seconds to tell someone what you write, you go with the hook—and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have one that stands out. And I’m guilty, too! I’ve caught myself thinking, “I don’t want to read about beermaking, I don’t like beer” and “I don’t want to read about Cleveland, that doesn’t sound exciting.”

But I’m getting better at the snap judgments. The decisions made based only on the surface information. I’m trying to dig deeper, too. I’m trying to see beyond the hook (or the cover) and find out more about the story. Because I know there are a lot of great stories out there, and I want to read them all…

So tell me, do you find yourself making the same kind of judgments about a hook or a cover? What influences you to check out a book?

Friday, December 18, 2015

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

A few weeks ago, I was fed up with my hair. When it gets long enough the natural curl falls out and then I have to "do something" with it. Since I happened to be sitting in a hair salon looking in the mirror when I realized I was tired of trying to duplicate what my hair stylist did at home, I said, "Let's cut it really short." He did while I watched my hair falling to the tile floor and wondered if I had made a mistake. This was not the first time I had gone for really short -- as in about an inch back and sides and only a bit more on top. I have done it in the summer, I have done it in the winter. And every time I do it, I think "What am I doing? Good grief, I'll have to put on lipstick and earrings so it looks like I'm at least "trying" (i.e., to be attractive). When I was about twenty years younger, I didn't have to try so hard and my short cut always went over well. Now, it just displays the gray at my temples. So this time, before we cut, I asked if we could add highlights. In theory, this distracts from any gray that is prone to resist coloring and brightens ones appearance. My hairstylist and the woman in the next chair and her hairstylist all assured me that it did. And looking in the mirror, I was pleased at having gotten a little crazy with my color this time around. Next time, I'm going to do purple instead of red. I have decided that if I can't beat the gray which is always back at my temples within days of coloring, that I'm going to have fun. Actually, gray is "in" right now. Young women are dying their hair gray. But if I did, people would just assume it was natural.

So what does this have to do with writing? Well, if you read my last post about feet, you know that I said I'd write about heads next time. I am in the process of doing some research on how mystery writers handle dress and appearance in their books. I've been thinking about those concise descriptions that some writers can do so well. The shoes on the feet, the hat on the head that immediately brings a character to life. Of course, there are the clothes -- or lack of them -- between feet and head. And saying that a character has short hair or no hair or was wearing a baseball cap may leave the reader with the wrong mental image. A reader who wears her hair to her shoulders may think of "short hair" as a chin-length bob. Another reader who is losing his hair may imagine a character with "no hair" has gone bald rather than shaved his head. A baseball cap might declare allegiance to a sports team, been purchased from a street stand to keep the sun off, have a company logo or refer to the wearer's profession or hobby, might be worn pulled down low over the eyes or turned backward. The cap might be turned backward because the wearer, clad in white overalls, is painting a wall in her house. A baseball cap might be accompanied by sagging pants, running togs, or white dress with open collar (really cool CEO). Or it might be worn awkwardly by a politician in a suit and tie.

Men are much less likely to wear hats these days than in the past. We most often see hats on male celebrities who are making a style statement as they walk the red carpet or appearing on a TV show like "The Voice" (e.g., celebrity judge Pharrell Williams who likes hats). But in crime films and mystery/detective novels, hats have been an important accessory. Sherlock Holmes has his deerstalker. Hercule Poirot has his bowler. A hat was indispensable to James Cagney's look as a Prohibition-era gangster in The Public Enemy. Even as he staggers along in the pouring rain after being shot and finally falls down in the street, his hat stays firmly on his head. And no one wore a fedora like Humphrey Bogart. Add trench coat in Casablanca, and we have iconic movie style.

I plucked a couple of books off my shelf as I was writing this post. In Ceremony (1982), featuring Robert B. Parker's Boston PI, Spenser tells us that Hawk, his African American side kick, has attracted attention outside the Copley Plaza Hotel. Hawk is 6'2" and he is "wearing a glistening black leather jacket and skintight leather jeans." Spenser concludes his description of the reactions of those keeping their distance as they pass with this observation, "He wore no hat and his smooth black head was as shiny as his jacket and [black cowboy] boots." Of course, if Hawk had been wearing a hat, he might have looked even more intimidating to passers-by. And one wonders what hat, the always sartorially-aware Hawk, might have worn with a leather jacket, tight jeans, and cowboy boots. In Michael Connelly's Void Moon (2000), his protagonist, Cassie Black, a beautiful ex-con, is introduced to a man  named Lankford at a car dealership. The man, who is looking at "the silver Carrera with the whale tail spoiler," is wearing "a porkpie hat". A few paragraphs later, Cassie "turned her attention to Lankford. He was neat and well dressed in a set of retro clothes that went with the hat."

I am fascinated by hats and hair and shapes of heads. Some people can wear hats, and others would do better not to try. I grew up wanting to wear hats with the style and flair of church-going women on Sunday morning. I have been in awe of those hat-wearing women at the Kentucky Derby -- or, occasionally, hat wearers at Malice Domestic, the mystery conference. But if I were writing myself as a character in one of my books, I would leave my head hatless. And somehow I would work in the photos of my changing hair over the years that mark both era and mood and sometimes desperation -- from Afro to straight from long to short. Always worn "natural" now. If I were a character walking into the party I once attended after being caught in the rain, my hair would be clinging to my head when I arrived and a puff of curls and waves after I had retreated to the bathroom to try to dry it.

Hats on, hats off, head bald or covered with hair or wig. From "hat honor" (hat removed to show deference) that was a matter of theology for the early Quakers to hat-making that might have affected the "Mad Hatter" to a baseball cap worn in a classroom in defiance of a dress code or while holding up a liquor store, hats have been an accessory worth thinking about. So has the hair or lack of it underneath. Something to think about as we decide if a character will wear a black hat or a white one, throw his "hat into the ring" or depart with "hat in hand."