Just Because We Can...

NASA recently announced that a capsule from the Osiris-Rex spacecraft had landed in Utah. The capsule contained debris collected from the asteroid Bennu. For us science-fiction nerds, the scenario is all too reminiscent of the plot from Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain. Our government assures us that precautions against contamination are in place. Which begs the question, precautions against what? If we don’t know what we protecting ourselves against, how would we know our protections are effective? Certainly, there is much to be gained from an analysis of the asteroid’s material, but is it worth the risk? Why not study this extraterrestrial material in space? 

Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.

It’s a saying that’s become more significant with our ever increasing technical and industrial capabilities. Several examples come to mind: The creation of the atomic bomb. Gain-of-function research. News articles that raise the hairs on the back of your neck, i.e., stories involving reanimating dead flesh. Gee, what could go wrong? It’s as if the scientists involved have ignored the warnings of every zombie movie ever filmed. Then comes a story about the Chinese growing human tissue inside pig uteruses. Hello, Island of Dr. Moreau calling.

When Kaye Booth asked me to contribute a story to the WordCrafter Press horror anthology, Midnight Roost I had the perfect concept to explore: “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should,” as in human inception and gestation in artificial wombs, to incubate what are known as “bag babies.” The so-called benefits of this development include “freeing women from the tyranny of pregnancy,” allowing parents to customize the genes of their baby, and giving the government the opportunity to control demographics to enact state policies. With bag babies, the government can control population growth without the pesky need for humans getting it on. Two examples warning us about the dangers of industrial-scale human incubation came to mind: Brave New World, and The Matrix.

I wrote "Immediate Intervention" to discuss several themes addressing bag babies. The first is that human development is very complicated and nuanced. We know about the importance of an emotional connection between a mother and the infant while in the womb. When the baby is born, its prefrontal cortex is undeveloped and the brain is a blank slate. As the baby matures, what becomes evident is the empathetic connection between the infant and mother, then infant and father, then infant and others. This connection depends on environmental influences upon the baby in the womb, things like the mother’s heartbeat, her warmth, her emotional state, the projection of good vibes from mother to child. Some of this may sound esoteric but we know that babies born in emotionally toxic environments will become emotionally toxic people. 

How then to replicate a nurturing environment for the baby in an artificial womb? Certainly, a fetus incubator could replicate heart beats and use soothing stimuli to mimic a human host mother. But would that be enough? Wouldn’t such a loss of the child-mother bond bring the risk of babies not developing a sense of empathy? What would be the fallout of that?

In my story, this lack of empathy results in an inability to establish meaningful emotional connections, which in turn would lead to isolation, a sense of chronic loneliness, then depression. And from that, a proclivity to suicide.

The other theme would be one of, who am I? What am I? Who are my real parents? The DNA donors? Or the mother—the incubator? Would there be a sense of spiritual estrangement, that rather than feel part of the human continuum stretching back through prehistory, you see yourself as a fleshy widget, a product of commerce, another cog in the government’s machinery? 

This leads to the question, who do you belong to? Presently, as a child, you belong to your parents until the age of emancipation. What happens if the state has sole responsibility over you and you’re seen as a replaceable component of the system? If the state had the authority to birth you, could they not have the sole authority to terminate you?

With this, the elements for a good horror story fell into place. That the mother who bore you is the same monster who will devour you.

Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.

Connecting with fellow book lovers

 In my blog post two weeks ago, I wrote about the dark place I was in because of the war and the seemingly endless suffering. The bombings in Ukraine were not longer in the news because the public and the media had been captivated by a new horror. 

If anything, the horror is worse now than two weeks ago. Anger and violence is spreading, both in the Middle East and across the globe, where everyone is taking sides whether they understand what's going on or not. One of the advantages of growing old is the wisdom of the long view, and the understanding that the more you know about a subject, the less you know it. In order to restore some measure of balance and hope, I limited my consumption of news to twice a day and only from a couple of trusted professional news sources. I tried to avoid social media, which is a toxic soup, and skip over angry diatribes.

Mostly, it's helping. What's also helping is reconnecting with my normal life. In the past two weeks I've done two in-person talks to community groups about my writing, and both were energizing and restorative. I've done a lot of talks over the years. When I started, I prepared my talk carefully, typed it out, bolded key points to help me remember and stay on track, and faced my audience like the consummate professional. Over time, I learned to talk from a point-form outline, and still later, I had the point-form outline on the side table but only glanced at it occasionally. For the past few talks, I have spoken for over an hour without a single note.

The transformation from formal presentation to informal chat started with my book club talks. These are more informal by nature – small, intimate groups of friends sitting in a circle of comfy chairs, chatting and sharing easily. I too had a comfy chair and sometimes a glass of wine at my elbow. Formality is not a good fit. Often the sessions resembled spontaneous Q&As, with my answers dreamed up on the spot in response to the question, I learned the art of ad-libbing and thinking on my feet. Not quite conversation but certainly not didactic.

In some book clubs, I ended up talking for a half hour about whatever topic or book they wanted, without the aid of a single prepared note. No two talks are ever the same, but over time, I have developed a repertoire of thoughts and observations about my books, my writing process, my approach to research, and so on, and I can pull them up whenever that topic is raised. Sometimes I forget one interesting point but another one occurs to me. Because I know my work and these topics well, I find it easier to relax and be spontaneous, joke, and connect with the audience. I think everyone enjoys the informality. I know I do! 

It also help enormously that the people who come to these talks usually love books and are eager to learn about mine. No scowls or heckling here. That affirmation is wonderful for the soul. How would we writers survive without readers?

Love Locks in the News – Again

 

by Sybil Johnson

Back in 2019, I wrote a post on Type M on “Love Locks and Locksporting”. You can read it here. At the time, I was doing research for book 6 in the Aurora Anderson mystery series, “Brush Up On Murder”. I included both of those things in a story that’s set around Valentine’s Day. Well, finally after way too long, “Brush Up On Murder” is out in the world! So far it’s receiving good reviews. One of these days I’ll write some posts about my journey into being a hybrid author, but not today.

Love locks are in the news again. This time at the Grand Canyon. This is one place that I never thought I’d hear about people putting love locks. On a bridge in Paris, yes, I can see that. Next to the Grand Canyon, well, no.

Many articles have been written about this. Here’s one of them: https://www.travelandleisure.com/grand-canyon-love-locks-condor-animal-safety-8357412 Basically, the Grand Canyon is not a good place for a love lock. And throwing the key into the canyon, as many people are doing, is really, really not a good idea. Birds, like the California condor (an endangered species), are curious about shiny objects. They will pick up a key or a coin and it’ll get stuck inside them. Then they need surgery to get the key removed. Not a good thing.

In my book, there’s a bit of controversy regarding putting love locks on a pier railing and throwing keys into the ocean. But, anytime I show someone putting up a love lock anywhere, they always throw the key in a trashcan.

The first time I saw love locks in person was in San Antonio, Texas, where there was a spot near the River Walk. We watched a couple attach one, even took a picture for them. But, from what I remember, they threw the key into a trashcan and not into the neighboring canal.

If you want to see if there’s a love lock location near you, you can consult a map by going to https://www.makelovelocks.com/locations/ Not sure how up to date it is. 

Google also has a map created by a user: https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/viewer?mid=1RwGgvR5pfnrShKgzWv6bs0uYovRr1bkF&hl=en_US&ll=8.367612651659764%2C-3.5638382500000034&z=1 

But don’t throw the key into a body of water or the Grand Canyon!

A Time for Weeping

 by Charlotte Hinger

The Hamas/Israel War has displaced all of my thoughts about this week's post. What a tragic event. There are so many possible repercussions that I can't bear to ponder any of them. 

Right now, my heart goes out to the victims of this war. 

Donis's post last week was superb. Titled "Where is  Cincinnatus?" she revives an old quote “Comes the hour, comes the man.” She lamented the state of our broken nation and added:

"The saying keeps running through my head and makes me wonder – where’s the (wo)man who can turn this mess around? Where’s our Cincinnatus, who was granted supreme power by the Roman Senate when the Republic was on the brink of disaster, then gave it up the instant the crisis was averted and retired to his plow."

Who indeed? I admire our president and was so happy to hear his unwavering support for Israel. Yet, I kept in mind the hatred toward Abraham Lincoln when he was thrust into a war that he desperately wanted to avoid. Not everyone is going to agree with our President's policy.

I think one of the hardest realizations for me when I became a historian was that there is no way to avoid war when another county is determined to do you in. Absolutely no way! 

I know the history of the Palestine/Israel conflict is complex and I really don't know a thing. Nevertheless, I cannot understand Arafat rejected a two-state solution in 2000.

Why are the citizens of so many nations paralyzed by leaders who court disaster?

 

Retirement---More Time for Writing and Marketing

 By Thomas Kies

It's a little hard to tell from that photo, but that was a toast made in my honor at my retirement party. I’m retiring from my day job as president of our county’s chamber of commerce this week. Friday is officially my last day.  About a week ago, my board hosted a very nice, well attended happy hour in celebration of this event, so this week is a bit of an anti-climax.

That being said, this past week was extremely busy, and this coming week will be even more so.  My replacement has already started so she’s in my old office and I’m taking up space in the conference room, where, I swear, it’s cold enough to hang meat. 

In addition to helping acclimate the new president into her new role, I’ve volunteered to be the moderator at our League of Women Voters Candidate Forums---all five of them.  This year the interest in the municipal elections has been remarkable.  Each election has between seven and twelve candidates running for three seats each.

So I’ve been putting together questions for each forum pertinent to the municipality and trying to time the forums so they go the full two hours and not a minute longer.  The reason?  I’m standing the entire time behind a podium and my legs and feet are screaming at me by 8pm.  I really wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed for volunteering for twelve hour days during the last two weeks of my career. 

What that’s done is slowed down my work on my next Geneva Chase novel.  I have a manuscript submitted to my editor that isn’t a Geneva Chase mystery and I wasn’t sure if working on another book in the series was a good idea.

But I met with my agent while I was in San Diego for Bouchercon and she advised me to go ahead to write another Geneva Chase adventure.  I’m at the 230-page mark and this is where I tie up some loose ends but also lay some new clues.  All of it in the middle of a hurricane.  In the book, not here on my island...not right at this moment. 

It’s difficult to keep the writing momentum up while tying up my own loose ends.  

After Friday, October 20, I hope to have much more time to write and promote the books I’ve already had published.  I saw a post online the other day asking, “When did writers have to become social media influencers?” 

That’s a good question but that’s where most of the marketing takes place, isn’t it?  How many of your local newspapers carry book reviews?  Another question, in this day and age, how many of you have daily newspapers in your area?  There are fewer and fewer of them.

Trying to promote your books on any “old media” is problematic at best. 

It’s the internet that needs to be used and that takes time.  One more reason to look forward to retirement, in addition to being able to read more often, take walks on the beach, travel to locations on Cindy’s and my bucket list, and visit my family.  

Oh yes and write.  I love to write.  

Just got to get through the rest of this week.

The Copyediting Process

 I was going through some documents I had saved on a thumb drive, searching for a midterm study guide for one of my classes that I thought I might have accidentally copied to the wrong drive. 

As I was scrolling, I came across my responses to the copyeditor's queries about The Red Queen Dies, the first book featuring my Albany, New York homicide detective, Hannah McCabe. 

Since The Wizard of Oz is also mentioned in this book, it occurred to me that you might enjoy a peep behind the (editing) curtain.  

Comments about my revisions and in response to queries from copyeditor

1. I took this last opportunity to do more to establish that this is an “alternate universe” or “parallel world.” I explain the reasons in my Author’s Note. The “real world” happens too fast. A near-future book needs to exist in its own reality. 

[Note: The "the present" has caught up with me and zoomed past. It is still 2019 in my third (plotted but not written ) book and in my 1939 historical where McCabe and Baxter are (probably) going to be appearing in a parallel subplot].

Aside from the UFO that appeared in 2012 

[Note: I mentioned the UFO in a news broadcast at the beginning of the book. The news reader reports the seventh anniversary of an event that had sent NORAD scrambling. The UFO disappeared and has never returned. I give myself a pat on the back for being ahead of the recent (real world) discussion about UFO sightings]:

a. “New France” (this is the name a historian friend of mine suggested if Quebec should break away from the rest of Canada) mentioned during the morning news.

b. The “curse” on the Yankees (which any baseball fan would recognize as being in an alternate universe in which the Yankees, who are a winning team in this world, are now dealing with a version of the curse that plagued the Red Sox)

c. “if Truman had really beat Dewey” [new addition]

(see page 121) – a passing mention by Angus of a book he is planning to read. Of course, a reference to the famous “Dewey beats Truman” newspaper headline. And sets up the political history in the book as not quite the same as this world. Later, in the book (during the discussion about getting access to library records, Baxter now makes a sarcastic comment about how this is what Howard Miller is always talking about (Democrats have now been in control of the White House for 11 years and have stacked the Supreme Court. Civil liberties have been protected – and Howard Miller is the conservative backlash to that. Just a passing comment by Baxter to which McCabe makes a sarcastic response but sets the stage for another mention of neo-Nazis later. I also wanted to use Baxter’s comment to imply that he’s “testing” McCabe to see how she’ll respond.

d. And, as you may have noticed, in a scene driving into work, McCabe is listening to Elvis’s farewell concert in Central Park – a major event in 2000. Presumably, Elvis is now a senior citizen and alive and well.

The technology:

1. Web based on language used by biologists to describe spider web (e.g., node, threader)

2. The technology doesn’t always work – police budget and solar flares – I have a bit more discussion about that now as they are looking at Vivian Jessup’s body on camera. Just another reference to where the money is being spent – downtown, around the convention center, protecting tourists

3. While they are waiting for a table at the barge, Baxter mentions UAlbany and nanotech. Another reason it’s hard to get a table downtown (but also important in describing the city as nanotechnology moves off campus, and sets up offices downtown)

Other changes:

1. Here and there have replaced “old” with “elderly” when referring to women

2. On pages 34-36, tightened up Wizard of Oz discussion and changed location where second victim dies (killed when has flat tire). The change in location is because the perp that McCabe and Baxter arrest has broken into the first victim’s house. This would have to be Bethany’s house (empty since her death).

3. Page 31 – at the Jessup crime scene, the dead animal was a squirrel in early versions. It is now a dead snake. I thought this was a bit grosser as a mental image. Although not said, the implication is that Baxter mistakes the snake for a piece of the victim’s intestines.

4. Page 15 – I corrected a blooper – the bola McCabe fires from her weapon should go around the victim’s legs rather than his feet and use cords rather than a net.

5. pp. 125-126 – The conversation between McCabe and Chelsea changes a bit here. Chelsea is trying to fix McCabe up with a blind date – later will become clear that McCabe has not even told her best friend about her secret lover and will also reinforce McCabe’s exchange with the two detectives in Jessup’s apartment about dying and having someone come and paw through your things. As a character she values privacy.

In this same scene with Chelsea, the set-up for a topic I’d like to explore a little in the next book (designer babies and cloning – Baxter brings up cloning when he mentions his friend who is dying)

6. p. 357 – a bit of editing here with Baxter’s call to his contact about a meeting  

7. As I was looking for typos in the final scenes, I did some general tightening and cleaning up clunky dialogue.

Note the specific use now of a “pharmacologist” (rather than “doctor”) . . . . 

The plot audition

Sometimes, I ask my plots to audition. I ask them to try out for their roles as novels that will dominate my life for a year or more by writing them as short stories first. Occasionally, they succeed as both. Bitter Crossing, the first Peyton Cote novel, was “Autumn’s Crossing” in the Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine.

Usually, if the plot is best served as a 40-chapter meal, it becomes apparent: the storyline is simply too large –– or would take way too much energy to pare –– to be a short story.

I just went through this process and ended up with 10,000 words in the form of an over-developed short story (41 pages are sitting on my desk) but something that isn’t close to a novella. Poor thing currently lives in purgatory. The story reads like an outline to a novel. It began life with a kernel of truth, then an idea for an opening scene, but no clear ending. It was perfect for a plot audition.

As I worked through it, I wrote 18 chapters, some that could be expanded. Better yet, I have some chapters that can be expanded upon –– meaning I saw ways to make the story more layered and places where additional suspects and complications for my protagonists could be inserted. The conclusion showed its face, as it always does, but the story also hinted that there might be alternative endings that will emerge organically.

One thing I know is that it’s not a short story; it’s a novel.

Hope and justice for the real world

 It's been a tumultuous week in the world. This past weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving, but many of us have been struggling with the appalling news out of the Middle East. On top of the wars in Sudan, Armenia, and the earthquake in Afghanistan. Before that the flood in Libya and the earthquake in Morocco. Thousands of people have been killed and millions more injured, homeless, and suffering.

It's difficult to feel like celebrating and being thankful when so much of the world lives in pain and fear.  Difficult too to put my mind toward editing my latest novel. As I sit in my cosy house in my safe, peaceful neighbourhood, with my full fridge and my warm bed, typing away on my modern MacBook and checking my facts on my fast, reliable wifi, it feels so trivial and so privileged. I acknowledge that I have much to be grateful for, but I do so with a twinge of guilt. 

The weekend's horrors put me in a very dark place, and as my novel contains a lot of darkness (it's a mystery, after all), I have channelled my mood into the feelings of the characters and the atmosphere of the story. But I will have to reread it all once I have regained my sense of balance. Whether they are cosies or nail-biting thrillers, mysteries endure because they are about finding justice and righting wrongs. In difficult times, they provide a sense of satisfaction that some semblance of justice has been restored to the world, at least in the book.

My stories are often dark and emotionally hard-hitting, and I want readers to be touched and moved by the struggles I explore. I believe in the power of compassion and empathy. But I don't want them to slit their throats at the end; instead. I want to give readers a sense of hope, even if it's only a faint flicker.  

I don't feel that sense of hope in the world right now. As Donis said, we need some great leaders capable of rising above their self-interest and their love of power long enough to lead us out of this morass. On climate change, on regional wars, and on universal human rights. We may have to start small, but we have to start somewhere.

 Meanwhile, I will continue to try to infuse a little hope, compassion, and justice into the fiction I create. Throwing up my hands is not an option. 

Where is Cincinnatus?

Since I began writing for public consumption, I’ve been careful to keep my opinions on the state of the world to myself. I figure nobody cares (or should care), anyway. But the latest brouhaha over the disfunction in Congress has reminded me of an old saying: “Comes the hour, comes the man.”

The saying keeps running through my head and makes me wonder – where’s the (wo)man who can turn this mess around? Where’s our Cincinnatus, who was granted supreme power by the Roman Senate when the Republic was on the brink of disaster, then gave it up the instant the crisis was averted and retired to his plow. Where is our George Washington, who helped found a nation and refused a crown? Or our Joseph Welch – the man who brought down Joe McCarthy and his Communist-baiting House UnAmerican Activities Committee in 1954 with one immortal comment: “Until this moment, Senator, I think I never really gauged your cruelty or your recklessness …. You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency?”

Our late House Speaker had enough spine to finally fall on his sword to avert a government shut down, however temporarily. But was this a noble gesture, lauded for averting a fiscal disaster that would fall squarely on his own party? It could have been, but nooo. After vilifying the other side for nine months,  to the point they don't trust a word he says, he blames them for his ouster rather than admitting he got himself into this mess. A talk-show personality this very morning noted that the ex-speaker made a deal with the devils and the devils always demand their due. 

So where is our heroic figure, the person who will finally say, "You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency," and have it mean something at last? Alas, I fear heroes are thin on the ground these days.

Aflunters, Biblioklept and Wordify

 

by Sybil Johnson

From the title, you can guess that I’ve spent a bit of time recently looking at books that list obsolete English words. In this case it was The Word Museum: The Most Remarkable Words Ever Forgotten by Jeffery Kacirk.  Yes this is what I do in my spare time!

Here are some of my favorites that I found. I think we should bring some of these back.

abracadabrant – marvelous or stunning

aflunters – in a state of disorder. This describes my desk these days. 

baffound – to stun and perplex 

biblioklept – one who steals books 

bruzzle – make a great to-do 

cabobble – to mystify, puzzle, confuse flonker – anything very large or outrageous 

gloppened – surprised 

quanked – overpowered by fatigue (felt like this a bit this past week) ruly – obedient. We should bring this one back. Unruly is still used today, why not this one? 

thrunched – very angry, displeased 

trilemma – any choice between three alternatives 

wordify – to put into words. This one sounds like something that is quite modern, at least to my ears. So, I’m not a writer, I’m a wordifier!

Real LIfe and Fiction--The Climate Question

 By Thomas Kies

A while back, I asked the question, will you include the pandemic in your writing?  I’m going to ask you another question, will you ever include climate change in your writing? 

I did that extensively in my fourth book Shadow Hill.  That was the one that was Edgar nominated by the Mystery Writers of America for the Sue Grafton Memorial Award.  

Yes, I’m bragging just a little bit.

But I did talk a lot about climate change, climate change deniers, fossil fuels, the oil industry and the subsidies they get from the federal government. Of course, I also talk about embezzlement, vandalism, and murder.  It’s a murder mystery after all.

Just last weekend, I was scheduled to do a book event and signing at our local library.  The night before, I got an email from the organizer asking me, “In light of the storm, would you like to postpone?  We can’t cancel the caterer, but we’ll let you make the call.”

What storm?

I’ve worked for newspapers and magazines nearly all my life and the result is-- I’m an unrepentant news junkie.  That includes following the weather, especially here on the coast where we get the occasional hurricane.  Plus, we live on an island, so we’re particularly sensitive to really bad weather. 

I opened my laptop and took a look.  Sure enough, there was a storm that had formed just off the South Carolina coast and was coming our way.  Only minutes before, it had grown into a tropical storm, and it was now named Ophelia. 

Where had that come from? It was a complete surprise.

However, we’ve been through tropical storms here and they’ve never been a really big deal.  Some rain, some wind, pop open a bottle of wine, and let’s have a party. 

So, I said, “Let’s do the book signing as scheduled.”  And we did.  All the while, the wind howled, and the rain came down sideways.  We still had about twenty people show up, which I considered to be a win.  

And that was before the storm actually hit land.

That night, before Ophelia actually made landfall, NOAA was saying it could potentially reach land as a Category 1 hurricane.  And we were sitting right at ground zero. 

Long story short, we lost power that night into the next day, one of our trees came down, and I regretted that I hadn’t prepared better.  

But I’d had no real warning.  None of us did.

A week later, the same thing happened further north when a storm hit New York City, Long Island, and Connecticut and dropped over eight inches of rain in a very short period of time leaving streets and subways severely flooded.  It came suddenly and without much warning. 

The reason for these sudden storms seems to be the unusually warm waters in the Atlantic as well as a great deal of water vapor in the air.  The results of climate change?  I’m going to say yes, and you can argue with me if you so wish.

Increased opportunities for wildfires, more powerful storms and hurricanes, lengthy droughts.  Will this enter your fiction? Will it become subject matter for your novels? I’m currently working on my sixth Geneva Chase novel, and it takes place on a barrier island during a hurricane.  

Yes, I mention climate change and how the warm ocean waters act to supercharge storms.  It’s not the main part of the story, but it’s a fact of our lives now.

Will it ever be part of your fiction? It’s certainly part of our reality.

Back on Track

Frankie here. I'm late today because I'm traveling with a couple of friends. We spent two days in Baltimore and saw the Orioles play. Now, we are in Delaware. 

I have to admit that was the first and only live baseball game I had ever seen. In fact, it was the only entire baseball game I have ever seen. But in my Lizzie Stuart series, Lizzie's partner John Quinn (a former military police officer and homicide cop) is a baseball fan. Because of that I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to see a real baseball game. The friend who is a baseball nerd explained the rules to the other two of us. 

I know it was me because the fans in the stadium were jumping to their feet to cheer the Orioles on every few minutes. But since I was neutral about who won, I couldn't get too excited -- at least not about the game. As we writers are prone to do in any situation, I watched and listened to the people around me. And by the time the game ended -- as I was walking out surrounded by people -- I had an idea for a short story. I'd had to check my shoulder bag in, store it in a locker because it was larger than the size allowed, so I had hurried out as the game was ending to retrieve it. That gave me even more time to look and listen. 

I also had time to do some initial Baltimore research for the 1939 historical novel that I'm working on. In fact, the more I work on my thriller, the more I'm inclined to think of writing a nonfiction book about crime and violence in America that year. That would be a way of making use of the research that I can't weave into my novel. 

I need to make another trip to Baltimore after I have contacted the reference librarian at the museum I want to visit. While I'm here in Delaware I want to get some work done. There is also a museum I'd like to visit if I have a chance. 

I'm feeling that I'm back on track because I have a new laptop. I bought it on Tuesday because I had managed to destroy the laptop that I'd had only for two or three years. First, I nodded off when I was sitting on the sofa working late one evening. I woke up as my laptop was falling from my lap. I broke the hinge on one side of the monitor when I grabbed it. My computer guy repaired it when I finally had the monitor dangling by a wire. But then I somehow lost a brace on the side, and it went dead when I couldn't make the charger fit tightly in the hole provided. 

At the same time, I was having a problem with my desktop at the office. ITS had discovered my computer was 6 years old and out of warranty. I was told to get a new computer ASAP. Our staff did that, but then we had a problem transferring the files over and needed help from ITS uptown.

Before I left, we got the desktop back up and running. Then I couldn't get the software to work. . .but now I hope that I am finally back on track. Cross your fingers for me.

 

After THE END

In my last blog, I posted that my work in progress refused to end, rambling on way past the expected word count with endless complications to be solved. I had set an unofficial deadline back in the spring of September 15 to finished the first drat, but it was now looking dicey.

Well, I did it! Sliding into the finish line at 9:05 p.m. on  September 15. It is a great feeling to reach the end of the first draft, because until that point, I am never sure the clumsy, chaotic collection of words and ideas will make a book. I'm never quite sure what the story is about and whether it will all tie together.

Writing THE END is very satisfying. As bad as it may feel, it's a book, and now I can work on making it a good book. I ought to know, after 20 successfully written books, that it will always end up being a book, but the doubts never really leave. This time may be different; I may truly bomb. This time I've lost my touch. Etc. etc.

Now I can breathe easy. I know how to do rewrites. How to fix plot holes and strengthen characters, how to tighten and expand, how to enrich and focus the story. Like a sculptor, once the basic shape is there, the rest is refining. Since I am largely a pantser, there are usually a lot of plot holes to fix, things that no longer fit or that need to be properly set up so the story ties together. There are some blind alleys and weed wandering that need to be culled. Day of the week, time of the day, and weather have to be consistent. And in the process, I have to lose about 5000 words.

And most important of all, I have to do research to make sure of details. When I am writing the first draft, I do not stop to reread or edit what I've done, or to look things up; I just keep ploughing ahead toward the climax of the story. My first job during the rewrites is to check my facts. So I read through the manuscript, correcting obvious typos, spelling and grammar mistakes, and I create a list of the things I have to research. If they are easy, like checking how to unload a Glock, I Google it and correct it on the spot. But if it requires a trip to a location, like the courthouse, the transit station, or a particular restaurant, I put it on a list and plan outings when I need a break. If it requires me to consult an expert like a police officer or archivist, I send off an email query or plan a visit. All of this stuff is fun.

I mentioned in my last post that the WIP still had no title. This is an interesting but frustrating part of writing. Until the book has a title that resonates with me, it's not complete. Finding a title is always a challenge. Along with the book cover, it's the reader's first introduction to the book. It can intrigue and excite, create the wrong impression, sound cliched or pretentious, or turn readers off. It should match the tone of the book (humorous, suspenseful, thoughtful). Certain words and phrases create expectations. Words like 'terror' suggest a thriller, 'ghost' suggests possible horror, animals suggest cozies. Short, single-word titles suggest a thriller, puns are strictly for cozies. The title should reflect the book's theme in some way without giving away the solution. "A Nephew's Revenge" may give too much away, for example. 

The title is like the cherry on the top of the sundae. It makes it perfect, so it must be chosen with care.

One of my favourite tricks is to look for a phrase while I'm re-reading the first draft that jumps out as both catchy and on point. Today I hit upon such a phrase, so I am quite excited. It may end up being supplanted by something better, so I won't mention it yet, but it's much much better than the working title I've had since I began back in January. Once I am farther along in the rewrites and the publisher has agreed to the title, I will let you know. So stay tuned!

Meanwhile, tomorrow I'm off to visit the courthouse.

Unintended Consequences

 One of my favorites phenomenons in the universe is that of unintended consequences. We think we have every angle covered resulting from our plans, only when things unfold, at the very least exposing a new wrinkle, or in the worst case scenario, have the entire scheme blow up in our faces. If you're a writer, you learn to appreciate the value of unintended consequences. After all, the best stories start with bad decisions, which at the time, seemed actually like good decisions. Unintended consequences make for great plot twists. Crooks rob a bank thinking it'll be an easy haul, only to discover all kinds of unintended consequences. Like the money brings out treacherous greed from your accomplices, or that the heist inadvertently bankrupted the family of a detective and the investigation becomes a personal vendetta. Better roads into the mountains to improve traffic safety brings more tourists, creating a demand for more housing, driving up the cost of real estate, requiring more infrastructure, straining water resources, drawing more traffic, and in full circle, a need for better roads! Wars are replete with unintended consequences, namely that they spin out of control. 

Closer in, I've started feeding the neighborhood squirrels. Yes, I was aware that soon I'd become beholden to the squirrel mafia and their relentless demands for more peanuts and bird seeds. And I was aware that I would become attached to several of the furry critters, even to the point of giving them names. In this case, one of the unintended consequences was that well-fed squirrels would mean well-fed foxes. Thankfully, none of our favorite tree rodents has gone MIA. But a good unintended consequence was that beside feeding the squirrels, the crows helped themselves to our offered bounty. And very unexpectedly, one of the crows brought this glass bead in appreciation.

One Of Those Days

Donis here. I understand that Saturn squared off with the moon yesterday, which is supposed to mean that things annoy you and stuff goes wrong. That's as good a reason as any for why yesterday was like it was.

 I stayed up too late reading. Didn't get to sleep until nearly two, then I had anxious dreams and kept waking up off and on. Couldn't drag myself out of bed until 9:30. Then I got dressed and sat at the dining room table, staring into space like a zombie for fifteen minutes. Don went to the gym. I ran out to Subway and brought home a sandwich. Ate it over the newspaper, spent way too long messing with the puzzles.

I'm thinking I need to write. But if I don't do a wash we'll have to run around naked tomorrow. While the wash is running, I dust and run the sweeper. I need to put away the dishes I washed last night. I hang the clothes and run another two loads. I need to throw the bathroom rugs in the washer, which means I'll have to mop the bathroom floors. I'll be danged if I'm going to put clean rugs on an unmopped floor.

I finally sit down at the computer, where I make the fatal mistake of looking at my email. I spend the next 45 minutes answering my email and looking at Facebook. Then I finally start to work on the guest blog entry I promised so-and-so last month. I have to get it in to her THIS WEEK. Oh, and this is my Type M week, too. I have to check in with my sister - she fell and broke her arm a couple of weeks ago and is going to have to have a shoulder replacement. And then there's the thing I said I'd do for the writers' group.

Can it already be 5:00? I have no idea what to do about supper. I ask Don if he has any ideas, but he'll eat anything I come up with. He says he can take care of himself if I don't want to worry about it. I root around in the cabinets. If I had a can of hominy I could make up a quick posole. I need to go to the store. We go to the store together and diddle around up and down the aisles until it's too late to make anything. We bring something home from the deli and eat it in the living room while watching Frasier reruns. Don went to the library today and came home with DVDs of Kerry Greenwoods' Phryne Fisher series from Acorn TV. After doing the dishes, we spend the rest of the evening watching that. It's great.

Can it already be 10:00? I watch ten minutes of the news, but it's so upsetting I go take a shower. When I get out, Tom Hanks is on Colbert, so I end up watching him until 11:15 blinking o'clock. I go to bed with a book, resolved I'll turn out the light at midnight without fail. It's 1:30 when I rip myself away from the story. I'm all wound up and can't go to sleep.

At least I no longer have to get up at 6:00 and go to work from 8:00 to 5:00, then try to have a reasonable relationship with my family crammed in in the evenings AND write a book/story/poem whenever I can cram in a minute. How did I once do that? (I'll tell you how. All that mopping and cleaning would have gone by the by) I'm amazed at how tasks expand to fill the available time.

For the umpteenth time, I resolve to do better.

p.s. you'll be glad to know I actually got quite a bit done today.

A Fun Tradition

 

by Sybil Johnson 

Every time a book comes out in my Aurora Anderson mystery series, I take a copy to Disneyland and do a photo shoot. I started this with my second book, Paint the Town Dead. I circled back at one point and took my first book, Fatal Brushstroke, there as well. Though I don’t seem to be able to find those pictures.

Not long after I got my print copy of my latest, Brush Up On Murder, I went to Disneyland and took some pictures. Here are some of the pics I’ve taken over the years. (You may notice that the latest book opted for sunglasses instead of Mickey ears. That’s because I forgot to bring the ears with me and didn’t feel like buying a second set of kid-sized ears.)

 

I thought at first that people would find it odd, especially when I photograph a book with food items like Mickey-shaped pretzels. But no one’s commented. I’m not sure anyone’s noticed. If they have, they haven’t said a word.

Brush Up On Murder will release October 10th. 

 

It’s available for pre-order now: 

Amazon Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Brush-Up-Murder-Sybil-Johnson-ebook/dp/B0CFSZGMD8 

Amazon TPB: https://www.amazon.com/Brush-Murder-Aurora-Anderson-Mystery/dp/B0CHJ4HJR8?ref_=ast_author_dp 

B&N TPB: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1144041940?ean=9798987660607 

B&N Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1144041940?ean=2940186164845 

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/brush-up-on-murder 

I’m publishing this one myself which has been quite the adventure. I’ll talk about that in a future post. In any case, I think fun traditions are important. It’s a way of celebrating our accomplishments as writers. Do any of you have any fun traditions?

Talk About Perseverance

 by Charlotte Hinger

Last Friday, Judith Briles interviewed mega-bestselling Colorado Authors’ Hall of Fame Inductee Kevin J. Anderson. In addition to being a famous science fiction writer, he stated that he had received 759 rejections. Amazing!

I am in awe of Michael and Kathy Gear who lived in a cabin with no running water for four years while they learned to write fiction based on their careers as archeologists. 

For I couple of years, I have mentored a young woman who is the most talented writer I've ever come across. Just out of high school when we started, she knows more about writing fiction in just one little brain cell than my poor mind has been able to cobble together in a lifetime. 

But she can't get an agent to read her material. That's despite a brilliant query letter. I'm so very anxious for her. But her response to the whole dismal situation has been to write the next book in this fantasy series, and then the next one. She will absolutely make it some day. She has everything it takes!

Just as our favorite detectives decipher cryptic clues and piece together a puzzle, authors must unravel the intricacies of the publishing world. It's a terrain rife with ambiguity, rejection, and uncertainty. Your manuscript may be the most brilliant piece of work, but initial rejections are not uncommon. Perseverance means understanding that a 'no' does not equate to a dead-end. The most important thing is to keep submitting.

In "Type M For Murder," we witness the detectives facing obstacles and setbacks in their pursuit of justice. Similarly, authors encounter rejection – a formidable adversary. But here's the secret weapon: the most celebrated authors have faced rejection, sometimes even multiple times.The lesson here is that every rejection can be a stepping stone towards acceptance, provided you persist.

Authors, like detectives, are often plagued by self-doubt. Our Type M'ers grapple with their own doubts and fears. But they press on because they know that perseverance can silence even the loudest doubts. 

The secret is to keep pushing forward.

Telling Secrets

 

By Thomas Kies

I wouldn’t come back again to talk about Bouchercon except I just paid off my credit card for the expenses I incurred while at the conference.  It was amazing how fast things added up while I was in San Diego.  Or how expensive things were.  $17 for a glass of wine…yikes.

But that’s not what this column is about.

It’s about the subject matter discussed at a number of panels that weekend. Secrets.

Isn’t that what’s at the core of a mystery?  Whodunit? Why? How? 

We’re always writing about secrets. Humans are much like puppies. We’re curious animals.  We want to know the answer to secrets.  That’s what makes us read to the last page of a novel.  We want to know what happens.

We have an internal drive to uncover secrets because of that curiosity. Secrets can be exciting, exotic, and mysterious and the very process of uncovering secrets can be thrilling. 

When it comes to crime novels, uncovering secrets is motivated by a sense of justice or a desire to expose wrongdoing.  Our fascination with secrets is a fundamental part of human nature.

Sometimes, however, we want to uncover secrets for their salaciousness. In my Geneva Chase mysteries, I’ve written about sex clubs, swinging, and BDSM dungeons.  When I’ve been at book events, inevitably someone in the audience will ask, “How do you know about these things?”

I’d love to just smile at them coyly, wink, and remain silent.  Let them think what they might.  Keep it a secret.

But instead, I tell them the truth.  I used to work for newspapers and magazines and through my job, I’ve seen many things and been in some very “interesting” places. 

Speaking of the news…that business is all about uncovering secrets.  Take a look at the news if you want to see some secrets exposed and some secrets that have been hinted at but not yet told. 

Here’s a headline from a recent edition of the Washington Post.  Va. Dem. House candidate performed sex online with husband for tips.  C’mon, there’s a novel here.  We both know it.

I’m not sure this could be classified as a secret because the woman and her husband livestreamed the sex acts.  Will it have any effect on her campaign?  Well, they say any publicity is good publicity. 

Here’s a headline from a recent edition of the New York Post: SD Gov. Kristi Noem having ‘absurdly blatant and public’ affair with ‘handsy’ Trump aide Corey Lewandowski, sources say.  What makes this more fun is that Kristi Noem is married and has repeated preached the gospel of “family values” and scoffed at anything other than “traditional marriages”. Is there a novel in this one?  I’m not so sure.  Corey Lewandowski had extramarital affairs before that have made the news.   But until recently, this one with the governor had been kept a secret.   Shhhhhh.

And lastly, here’s a non-sexual headline from Fox News: NASA detects molecule on another planet that can only be produced by life. The planet, K2-18b, is about 120 light years from Earth and it’ there that the Webb Telescope detected evidence of dimethyl sulfide.

Wow…the big secret.  Is there life on other planets?

Or, the bigger secret…is there life after death?

The one I’m most concerned about…who took the last piece of chocolate out of the candy dish in the kitchen?

And my writing tip of the day is when revealing secrets, do it slowly, lovingly.  Tease the reader. 

Now where the hell did that last piece of chocolate go?

The tangled string

 Oh how I wish I had been at Bouchercon! Reading about everyone's experiences, both in this blog and on Facebook, has made me realize how much I miss in-person conferences where I meet old friends, make new ones, laugh, learn, commiserate, and celebrate with kindred mystery lovers, both formally during the panels and informally at the bar, lounge, patio, etc.

I haven't been to a conference since before the pandemic, and although I was sorely tempted by this one, Labour Day weekend is always a very busy one, and the costs can get out of hand when you factor in a flight from Eastern Canada. Sadly, the Nashville Bouchercon is on Labour Day weekend  as well, but I also greatly enjoy Left Coast Crime, so maybe I'll go to Seattle in the spring.

I had hoped to be able to brag in this blog this week about finishing the first draft of my new Inspector Green novel, which has been trundling along at a leisurely pace since last winter. I had set the goal of September 15 to get to the end, but unfortunately, this novel refuses to end. It is rambling on and on, which I know is not a good thing in any novel, let alone a mystery, but new complications keep cropping up and right now it feels like a tangled string.. It's supposed to be 90,000 words (give or take) and I am already at about 93,000, with the ending tantalizingly close but still playing hard to catch as I approach it. During rewrites, I do delete and tighten, but I also expand and enrich, so normally I end up with a fairly stable word count. 

When I am writing the first draft of a novel, I'm in creative mode and don't want to lose that edge and momentum by editing or rewriting as I go along. It's full steam ahead and fix the plot holes, wobbly characters, and dropped loose ends once I get the whole story down. Since I don't outline and only plot in fits and starts as the story evolves, I don't know what the story is about or its full shape, until I reach the end. 

A lot of fixing and tidying happens in second draft, or third or fourth.

I suspect when I finally reach the end this time, I will have a lot of tidying up to do. I like my books to pick up momentum as they near the end, not ramble on with endless complications to be solved. I hope when I write my next blog in two weeks, I will have written The End and will have good news to report. It's a book, it's going to work, and I can fix this.

At Bouchercon

I went to Bouchercon, too. I started to write a post last Friday but never had a chance to get back to it. Here's how I started:

"Sorry to keep this short. I'm in San Diego attending Bouchercon 23. I'll have more to say about that in my next post. This morning, I need to pick up my Bouchercon packet and hit my first panel. 

I slept in after getting up early yesterday to take Fergus, my dog, to daycare. He's going to board with the owner while I'm away. He is such a happy guy, he never minds being boarded. I was a little worried that Penelope, my rescue cat, might be unhappy about being scooped up and sent off to board with Lori, her wonderful cat-sitter. But this will be her second stay, and she seems to remember that it was really cool having a room to herself. Lori sent me a lovely photo of her yesterday afternoon.

As for me, I treated myself to a first-class plane ticket because I was dreading the idea of traveling across  the country in cramped seats. Since I didn't travel during the pandemic, I considered it breaking even. I have to say it was worth it. First on board, a window seat with plenty of leg and and arm room. A drink before take-off -- I had seltzer at that time of day. But I did enjoy the meal en route from Charlotte to San Diego. 

First-class is definitely more expensive than the budget-friendly tickets I usually try to book. But I was reading an essay about "self-care" and it caught my attention because the author  posed the question, "What would you tell your best friend to do?" It's an interesting approach because I've been thinking about what I consider spending money for -- being comfortable on a long flight may seem self-indulgent and it is. But, on the other hand, I make up for that by not spending lots of money on an expensive wardrobe. In fact, given the state of the world, I would like to spend more of my budget on  having travel experiences. Even better if I can combine with research for books in progress."

So, picking up where I left off with this post: 

As I walked into the hotel, I saw Jane Cleland. Years ago, Jane and I were with several other authors on a book tour of North Carolina. Molly Weston, former editor of the Sisters in Crime journal was our host. Nora DeLoach (the author of the wonderful "Mama Detective" series -- one of the first cozy mystery series by an author of color) drove one of the cars. Sadly Nora died not long after our book tour.  

After seeing Jane, I ran into one friend or acquaintance after another. That -- as you all know -- is one of the best parts of attending Bouchercon and other mystery conferences. But I also enjoyed the panel I was assigned to. It was about having a strong voice and a compelling point of view. Our moderator, Dorothy Welles, was well-prepared and the other panelists were an impressive group,

Here's our group photo (courtesy of Dr. Ian Smith):

I stayed over until Tuesday evening to avoid traveling during a holiday weekend. That gave me a bit of time for trolley tours and a water tour. I loved that boat tour (in a vehicle that went from land to water). We saw sea lions stretched out and relaxing with their cubs. I was really surprised when the tour guide explained that they (and the dolphins we saw being fed) are in a naval training program. The sea lions are taught to dive to retrieve objects in the water. They will do deep dives to earn food treats. 

If you haven't attended Bouchercon, do try Nashville in 2024. It should be fun. And, of course, it's also an opportunity to do some business. I had a chance to touch base with my agent and discuss my books in progress.

Please Don't

 Donis here. I have mentioned previously that besides writing mysteries, I have a side gig as a free-lance mystery reviewer for Publishers' Weekly Magazine. I don't choose the books I'm going to review. The editor at PW sends me three or four advance reading copies (ARCs) a month to review. Usually these books will not be available for purchase for several months, and an ARC is not the final version, so I don't pay undue attention to typos or other minor flaws that will more than likely be corrected before the book hits the shelf. 

I have just finished reviewing the most shockingly, badly written book, a historical mystery, the editor has sent me in the six years I've been doing this. It was so poorly plotted and edited that when I was halfway through the book I sent a note to my editor to warn him that this was going to be a pretty bad review and I was not happy about it. I said "The writing is cringeworthy, riddled with cliches and full of anachronistic language and behaviors. It’s amazing. Pick any page for examples."

"Go ahead," he says, so I did. I did my best to soften the blow, but I had to tell the truth - hopefully without sounding like an a** or causing the author to jump off a bridge. This experience  reminded me of an entry I wrote for Type M on this very topic several years ago. As a public service to all who are getting ready to send that MS out for review, I reproduce my observations below. Not much has changed in the four years since I first wrote this. Enjoy.

I try never to be mean with my reviews, because as a writer myself I know how that feels. Besides, just because I don't enjoy a particular type of character/plot/setting/time period, that doesn't mean it's not well executed, and other readers may love just that kind of thing. But I know an epic fail when I see one, and when I do, I'm honor bound to tell the truth. I've been doing these reviews for about three years now, and I've seen the best of the best and the worst of the worst, and both have taught me a lot that I've tried to apply to my own writing. In fact, I'm currently in the midst of getting a lesson on what not to do. I'm reading the second or third installment of a series in which some loose ends are left from earlier books, and the author keeps interrupting the action to catch us up on what went before. Now, it has to be done, but said author does it with such lengthy digressions that when he returns to the action, I've forgotten the details of the story.

As I read, I'm furiously taking "what not to do" notes, especially when I'm in the midst of writing the second installment of a mystery that contains loose ends from the first. How do you catch the reader up on what has gone before without bogging down your momentum? Do it in short intervals, I think, and try to work it into the action naturally. That's what I'm going to shoot for, anyway.

Here are some other comments I've sent to the PW editor about fails in books I have reviewed that I believe all writers would do well to watch out for. None of these comments actually showed up in the review I wrote for publication, and the names, situations, and details have been changed to protect the guilty.

"The plot had so many holes that I have a headache from slapping my forehead so many times while I was reading."

"She had an idea for a plot and bent all her characters out of shape to fit it."

"This is a historical, but I couldn't tell what the year actually was and the author never actually said. From things the author wrote in the beginning I thought it must be in the 1850s or so, but I kept revising my estimate forward as more and more modern items kept showing up. I think maybe the 1870s."

"The sleuth's method of detection consisted of basically going from suspect to suspect and loudly accusing him or her of murder in hopes someone would crack. The motive was stupid and the killer was stupid for falling for (X's) lame trap."

"No proper English lady would go on 'vacation' with a single male acquaintance in 18--."

"Great characters and deft handling of the mores of the time. But I wish (X) hadn't cleared (Y) of the murder by having the coroner pinpoint the murdered woman's time of death within half an hour! In the 19th century!"

"I like the unusual setting and the characters are fun. She handled tension well, but I would have liked it better if the big showdown between the sleuth and the murderer hadn't ended with a slapstick food fight."

"She certainly studied the manual on how to write a cozy, so cozy lovers will find much to like. But that ending! The protagonist and her sidekick lay a trap, then hide in the bushes to eavesdrop on the conversation between the killer and the person who agreed to be bait. I always get annoyed when the killer confesses all in excruciating detail, and at the drop of a hat!"*

But really good characters cover a multitude of sins: "Her editor would have done well to have her condense the beginning quite a bit, but it eventually picked up nicely and the main character was well drawn and realistic. She was actually emotional about the deaths! It wasn't hard to figure out whodunnit, but there's enough atmosphere and crafting and eccentric characters (and a hunky detective and a kitty) that cozy lovers won't care."

______________

*This is a pet peeve of mine. Can you tell?

My Bouchercon 2023 Experience

 

by Sybil Johnson

Authors, readers, panels, interviews, awards, friends, books and walking—so much walking. That, in a nutshell, was my Bouchercon experience.

I spent last weekend plus some at Bouchercon in San Diego. It was nice to go to a conference that is only a couple hours drive from home. As Thomas noted in his post, there were a lot of people there. 1700 or so, the most of any Bcon. 

 

View from my hotel room

I started off my Bcon experience with the Cozies and Cocktails event Wednesday evening, put together by Ellen Byron. Cozy authors read from their books, other authors, including me, gave away one of their books. People mingled and chatted. It was great fun. Ellen is hoping to continue doing this event at future Bouchercons.

This convention also marked the first time there was an Anthony award category geared toward cozies, Best Humorous. I attended the panel where all of the nominees talked about their books. There was a fair amount of discussion about the term “humorous” being used in the award name. Not all cozies are humorous, but no one could come up with a better term.

There were numerous panels going on at the same time on a variety of topics. Plus there were the guest of honor and toastmaster interviews. I caught Toastmaster Naomi Hirahara’s interview and also National Guest of Honor C.J. Box’s interview. I also spent time working at the Sisters in Crime table hosted by the local chapters of Los Angeles, Orange County and San Diego. 

 

I also caught up with friends and talked with other attendees from other parts of the U.S., Canada and England. I heard someone was there from Iceland.

The panel I was on was called Entrepreneurial Detectives: Small Business Owners Who Solve Crime with me, Cheryl Hollon (M), Esme Addison, Mary Karnes and Traci Hall. Unfortunately, Cheryl couldn’t make it because of the weather in Florida so Mary stepped up and moderated the panel. We also had a non-cozy addition to the panel. Del Chatterson, which was great fun. 

The panel minus Mary who left before I could get this pic taken.

 

As you might expect, I picked up a bunch of books. I bought some and got others for free.

 

Books, Books, Books!

There were two sessions of Speed dating with Authors, one at 7 a.m. one morning (too early for me) and one at 11:35 a.m. I went to the latter one and spent two enjoyable hours listening to 40 authors give 2 minute spiels about their books. It’s always interesting, but pretty tiring for both the authors and listeners.

While I spent most of my time inside, I did get a chance to check out the nearby Seaport Village and walk over to the Gaslamp Quarter for dinner a couple of nights. Future Bcons will be in Nashville, New Orleans, Calgary and Washington D.C. I don’t know which ones I will be attending, but I will certainly consider it.

Old Books

 by Charlotte Hinger

Today I downloaded Captains and Kings by Taylor Caldwell. I can't pinpoint what made want to re-read this old old book. I read so many books that are less than memorable. I would like to pinpoint the reasons why so many of these ancient books have stuck with me. In the case of Caldwell, her characters were so vivid.

Thanks to Amazon it's easy to track down these old books that I've remembered for a lifetime. I still own a lot of them. My interest is more than a nostalgia kick, although I am a nostalgic person. This obsession was stirred up by my whimsical treacherous muse who pointed out that I needed to improve characterization.

The books I especially admire were mostly commercial successes, but that not why they stuck with me. I loved the central character in each one. But beyond that, these characters had a huge heart-wrenching problem worth wresting with.

For that matter, it seems to me the old writing books had a lot more information than the manuals I pick up today. I'm re-reading Maren Elwood's Characters Make Your Story. It's outstanding. It's tough reading and I don't think I understood some of her points until I had written several books.

Elwood insists that characters come from within. Spinning them from thin air doesn't work. You can give a man a quirky car, some semi-handsome physical attributes, a few snarly snappy lines and he will still seem like everyone else's cardboard cut-outs. Ditto for Too Stupid To Live Heroines. You know. The ones who never call for back-up. Or run around saying, "Oh I'll show him!"

Here is a just of a few of these old, old books I'll re-read and why:

Green Dolphin Street--Elizabeth Goudge. It's my all-time favorite whose theme touches a spiritual chord within me. Goudge, has the ability to make unlovable multi-dimensional characters profoundly lovable.

Love Let Me Not Hunger--Paul Gallico. This is a hauntingly beautiful insight into the cloistered world of the circus. Who knew that this society fostered it's own royalty? What I remembered forever and forever was Mr. Albert, the animal trainer. How did Gallico so vividly create such a noble humble old man whose personal story broke my heart?

A Distant Trumpet--by Paul Horgan. A historical novel telling about the Indian wars and the relentless campaign to hunt down the Apaches. And for years, whenever we moved to another town, another library, or even when I was visiting relations, I went to their library to look up General Alexander Upton Quade. I couldn't believe he wasn't real. After forty years went by, I found out this character was based on the autobiography and writings of General George Crook. Horgan told the‎ story from the Indians' point of view as well as the soldiers'.

Not As a Stranger--Morton Thompson. One of the great all-time medical novels. Not only was it informative, I had such hopes for the protagonist. He was destined to be one of the all-time great doctors.

Five Smooth Stones--Ann Fairbairn. One of the great social novels and one of the few that delved into subtle Northern racism. This was published in 1966 when the Civil Rights Movement was roiling America.

Rebecca--Daphne du Maurier. Need I say more? One of the great classic mysteries, which was the forerunner of the gothic novels. At one time I couldn't get enough of them.

There are some common denominators to all the books I've mentioned. They all have great plots. Every single author is a masterful story-teller. And for some reason they are all l-o-n-g.

Will these books still resonate with me forty years later? Will I still have the same insight? Stay tuned.

Notes from Bouchercon

 By Thomas Kies

I’m writing this from the Marriott Marqui Hotel in San Diego on the last day of Bouchercon 2023.  This is one the biggest, if not THE biggest, mystery conferences in the world.  There are over 1,700 participants.  

The guests of honor here this weekend are David Baldacci, Ann Cleeves, Jacqueline Winspear, C.J. Box, Cate Carlisle, and Dru Ann Love.  The Toast Master is Naomi Hirahara.  

Some other notable names are Hank Philippi Ryan, Bruce Coffin, S.A. Cosby, Matt Coyle, Martin Edwards, Lori Rader Day, Alex Segura, and Heather Graham.  These are among dozens of others too numerous to list. 

Also attending are agents, publishers, and film and television executives.  

And readers. These are really the most important participants.  And among them are aspiring writers, here to learn from the panel discussions and network.  They’re the most fun to listen to and talk with. 

Sitting at our table on Saturday night were a married couple who live in both Naples, Florida and Tacoma, Washington who had driven all the way to San Diego.  They’re world travelers and she writes a travel blog.  She’s thinking about writing mysteries incorporating their travels.

Sitting right next to me was a young lady by the name of Susan who is working on her first mystery manuscript.  She’s religious about attending mystery conferences, learning as much as she can, and networking with other writers.  She remembers seeing me on a panel at a very small conference in Phoenix with Ian Rankin as the special guest.  

Her enthusiasm was sweeter than the dessert on the table last night.

This has been a great place to see old friends and make new ones.  Oh, yes, and bring home books.  Lots and lots of books. 

FYI…the winners of the Anthony Awards last night were:

Non-Fiction: THE LIFE OF CRIME by Martin Edwards. 

Short Story: “Beauty and the Beyotch” by Barb Goffman

Best Short Story Anthology: CRIME HITS HOME, edited by SJ Rozan

Best YA/Childrens: ENOLA HOLMES by Nancy Springer 

Best Debut: THE MAID by Nita Prose

Best Historical: ANYWHERE YOU RUN by Wanda Morris

Best Humorous: SCOT IN A TRAP by Catriona McPherson

Best Paperback, E-book, Audiobook Original: THE QUARRY GIRLS by Jess Lourey

Best Hardcover: LIKE A SISTER by Kellye Garrett

A writer's summer life

 Summer always feels like a mishmash of competing interests and attractions, with little sustained direction or goal. Especially up here in Canada, after enduring many months of cold and darkness, we greet summer with a kind of frenetic euphoria. We tend to cram a lot of living into the brief months of sun, heat, and long, languid evenings. Friends to invite over, trips to take, family to visit, and there doesn't seem to be enough days in the week or weekends in the summer for all our plans and wishes. Serious life seems to take a back seat.

But a writer's life doesn't take breaks. The inexorable march toward the deadline continues, the momentum of the current WIP has to be maintained, or else we'd forget where the story is going. As a novel writer, I have developed a habit of trying to write one scene every day. It's the only way I know to actually reach the end. But in the summer months, with all the visits, trips, and outings, that plan is often derailed. I alternate between feeling guilty about neglecting the obligation hanging over my head and believing that there are other things in life and the summer is too short to miss a moment of it. 

So I find myself writing in fits and starts. I have a modest but beautiful lakeside cottage and I love to have family and friends come for a few days. We swim, we boat, we cook and eat, we laugh and play games late into the evening. I ignore that little voice that says this novel is not going to write itself.  In between visits, to compensate and appease that little voice, I binge write, burying myself in my writing and churning out several scenes each day, emerging from my cave disoriented but euphoric at the end of the day. Sometimes, I take time off, but that is usually filled with the other boring details of life like doing the laundry, battling the weeds in the garden, and shopping for food.

In the past couple of weeks I have hosted two "writers' retreats" at the cottage with two separate groups. These are informal get-togethers with good friends, that have taken place every summer for years. I have to confess that although we talk about writing, brainstorm the odd plot problem, and gossip about the book industry, we seldom do any actual writing. This weekend marks the end of the lazy summer season; after Labour Day, life gets serious again. I know I have to buckle down and get back to my daily writing ritual. The deadline awaits.

But man, this is fun and rejuvenating while it lasts!