“Comfort reading”

by Rick Blechta

If you’re anything like me, you have a TBR (To Be Read) stack of books about a mile high. I always feel a twinge of guilt when I pick up a book. I shouldn’t be spending precious hours enjoying what someone else has written. I should be working on my own stuff. Sure, I could put it all down to “research” which is not stretching the truth, but…

Sometimes, usually at the end of a trying day, I can’t imagine reading something new, let alone having enough mental energy to work on my own novel. I just need to “escape” for a few hours, and my solution is to reach for some old friend, a book I’ve very much enjoyed already, often repeatedly, that I can disappear into with no pressure to read it to the end. I think of this as “comfort reading” and it’s as nourishing to my soul as a favourite comfort food can be. In fact it can do you a world of good to indulge in both at the same time!

I have a few comfort reading choices. I’ve always enjoyed reading Dick Francis, but there are some I find more attractive than others. The two that come to mind immediately are Bolt and To The Hilt. I can enjoy either one for an hour or two and emerge feeling much refreshed. The Thirty-Nine Steps is another indulgence. I suspect that some of the Camilleri novels will also land on my comfort reading pile. These stories are just so different and refreshing that reading a few chapters can feel like you've made an overnight trip to Sicily. (Why did it take me so long to discover these gems?)

So that’s my basic list. We have a gloomy day on hand here in Toronto, and it is quite tempting to disappear to the bedroom and spend a few hours with an old friend. I’m going to do my best to resist, though, like I’m doing now writing this blog post. Duty calls!

How about sharing your comfort choices with the rest of us? What book(s) do you turn to when you’re tired, maybe a bit blue, overworked, and in need of some pampering?

Can't Recall the Last Plot? No Worries. Read the Next Book in the Series, Anyway.

Barbara Fradkin’s excellent blog on relatable characters prompted me to submit this.  Can you recall all the plots of all the books in all the mystery series that you’ve read?  Of course not.  There’re simply too many.  But what you remember are the protagonists.

What is it about a mystery series that makes us want to keep coming back, eager to devour the next installment?  Is it the way the story is told, the plotting, the pacing?  It’s all those things, of course, but most importantly, it’s the characters.

We become invested in them and can relate to them.  Sometimes we are so invested that, if they do something that we think is stupid or make a bad decision, we get frustrated or angry at them.

Isn’t that how we feel about our friends and members of our family?

The characters are so important to us, that often we’ll forget the plot to the earlier books, but the protagonists live on in our minds. So, let’s talk about why we love certain characters.

Starting with the late Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone, who doesn’t like a female protagonist that is so relatable?  She’s a bit of a frump, although it my head, she’s an attractive frump.  Kinsey is about 5’6”, 118 pounds, has short dark hair that she trims with a nail scissors.   She usually wears jeans and turtleneck sweaters.  For times that she needs to “dress-up”, she owns a wrinkle-resistant little black dress.

I visualize Kinsey looking very much like Sue Grafton does on the back of the book jacket of her mysteries. 

Kinsey Millhone jogs three miles every day but enjoys junk food.  She’s been in and out of various relationships and was married twice.

We can relate to her.  She’s just a regular person with a self-effacing sense of humor who solves mysteries.  From letter to letter in her series of “Alphabet” books, we watch her grow her friendships, romantic relationships, and her jobs.

However, she’s one of the few characters who doesn’t really age.  She’s been in the ‘eighties’ since, well, the eighties.  She doesn’t have a cellphone and has never streamed a movie on Netflix.  Keeping her stories in that decade makes her novels as comfortable as a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich on a rainy day.

After 25 volumes of Sue Grafton mysteries, it’s nearly impossible to recall the plots of all of them…or any of them.  But that’s not important, is it?  As long as when you finish one, you’re looking forward to your next letter of the alphabet.

A favorite character that I grew up reading was Travis Magee written by John D. McDonald.  The books started with The Deep Blue Good-by in 1964 and ended with The Lonely Silver Rain in 1984. 

Like Kinsey, Travis is relatable. There’s no sense of ostentation at all.  He’s a beach bum who lives on a houseboat called the “Busted Flush” that he won in a poker game.  He’s a self-described “Salvage Consultant” and “Knight Errant”.  He makes his living by finding items that have been lost or stolen and taking a cut (usually half of what the item is worth). 

Travis was another hero that didn’t seem to age although at the beginning of the series, he intimated that he was a Korean War veteran and somewhere along the way that subtly changed to being a veteran of the War in Viet Nam.

I was impressed that, even in the ‘60’s, he was a prototypical environmentalist, waxing poetic on how damaging encroaching human development was on the Everglades.

It wasn’t until about 1979 in The Green Ripper that Travis starts to slow down.  In the last book of the series, The Lonely Silver Rain, Travis learns he has a teenage daughter and takes all the cash he has on hand and puts it into a trust fund for her.

Who can’t love that?

But as memorable as the recurring characters in McDonald’s books, unless I go back and reread them, I can’t recall any of the plotlines.

What can be written about Michael Connelly’s Detective Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch that hasn’t already been said?  Twenty-one novels have given Harry Bosch a very full life of his own.  Bosch is so firmly in the minds of mystery readers and writers as well, that he’s appeared as a cameo in other writers’ books. 

Bosch has a long history with multiple partners, both professional and romantic.  He has a colorful, exotic back story.  With each book that Connelly writes, his protagonist evolves. 

But he’s also getting older.  It’s no secret that Bosch is a Viet Nam veteran, a tunnel rat.  That’s going to make him close to seventy-years-old.  In his last book, Dark Sacred Night, Bosch is slowing down.  He’s joined forces with one of Connelly’s newest creations, L.A. Detective Renee Ballard.

By his own admission, Connelly said that Ballard debut appearance in The Late Show was going to be a single appearance.  But she was “too fierce” so he brought he back.

I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of her.  They are both forces to be reckoned with on the likability scale. They’re both loners, they both have haunted histories, they’re both relentless in the search for justice, willing to break the rules to get it.

So, with so many books in the series I’ve talked about, how on earth can you recall all the plots?  Most of us simply can’t.  Nor are we supposed to.  We respond the characters.  The reason we keep buying these writers’ books is because we enjoy being with the protagonists. 

We don’t necessarily have to recall how the last book ended. We only need to look forward to the next.

Hunting for Happiness

Oklahoma Book Award Finalists for 2020

I (Donis) am working working working to finish the more-or-less-final draft of the manuscript of my second Bianca Dangereuse mystery, set in Hollywood in 1926. I am alllllmost there! I want to get it sent to my editor before I leave for Left Coast Crime on Thursday March 12, and I think it will happen. I also would love to get a synopsis finished and sent to a prospective agent before I go. Whether that will happen remains to be seen, mainly because I also have a couple of author presentations to get ready for, both on March 11 - one early in the day and one late in the day. Then I'll be flying off to San Diego early in the morning on March 12. There was some worry that LCC would be canceled due to the covid-19 virus, but apparently it is still on, so full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes. The conference organizers sent all the participants a note saying that the conference hotel is taking extreme measures to make sure everything is disinfected. There will be hand sanitizer stations throughout the building. I'm going, dang it, because I so seldom have the opportunity to make these important mystery conferences. In fact I had a time-management set back a couple of weeks ago when my beloved but troublesome husband's pacemaker began beeping because the battery was failing and he had to have surgery to get a new one implanted in his chest.

So that's done. He's recovered well and I'm back at the writing life. All of this has been stress inducing, the deadlines and preparations and viruses and operations. Anyone who is a writer and has a life understands that this is just the way it is. However, on occasions like this I am overcome by a distressing thought:

Do I really want to do this any more?

I write because I enjoy it - when I can take my time with it, that is - and I undergo all the crap that goes with publication because 1) I want to share my work and 2) I like to make a little money. Little is the operative word, here. Am I rewarded, ego and money-wise, enough make it all worth it? Not really. I'm rushing toward the end of my time on earth, and how do I want to spend it?

What is the secret to happiness? One thing I've learned over the course of my many years is that I cause most of my own suffering. Stop putting pressure on yourself. Do or don't do, as Yoda says, and quit beating yourself up. Of course knowing something and being able to do it are two different things...

So... in the spirit of finding happiness where one can, here is a nice ego-boost I received today: The Wrong Girl, the first Bianca Dangereuse novel, is a finalist for the Oklahoma Book Award this year.

I also got a lovely review for The Wrong Girl today in the Historical Novel Review this month:
"Casey brings the world of silent film to life, using Hollywood slang from the 1920s. The novel is structured like a silent movie, with black-and-white story cards at the head of each chapter. Casey takes us to another world, but one which is all-too-close to ours. The theme of film executives as sexual predators could have been taken from today’s headlines. Highly recommended."
Thank you, HNS!

And last but not least, if you are braving the germs and attending Left Coast Crime, one of the premier mystery author/reader conferences, this year in San Diego, March 12-15,
Here is the link for the Left Coast Crime panels. So many wonderful authors will be be there. I'll be on a panel called Hooray for Hollywood: Tinsel Town as a Setting, on Friday March 13 at 4:00 p.m.
along with Kellye Garrett, Sherri Leigh-James, and Phoef Sutton

A character worth caring about

Rick's post about the universal appeal of stories got me thinking – what makes a good story? One clue could be found in Tom's excellent post of last week and in the words of one person in the comments section:  emotion is "the beating heart of writing".

It's a timely reminder to all writers that no matter how beautiful our words or how thrilling our tale, readers are unlikely to keep reading if they are not emotionally invested. Stories are about characters, even if that character is a dog or horse. Not cardboard cut-out characters, not two-dimensional superheroes, not people who are defined only by an unusual talent or quirk, but characters with all the hopes and dreams and struggles and flaws that people can relate to.

Everyone can relate to this!

Somerset Maugham is credited with the famous saying; "There are three rules to writing a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are." I usually begin my writing workshops by giving this quote, because I believe everyone writes a novel differently and has to discover what works for them. There are far too many "how to" books out there which claim to lay out the secret steps to a perfect novel, and in my opinion, that way lies formulaic, derivative writing that fails to allow your truly creative self to blossom.

That's not to say there are no skills and tools of the craft to be mastered; a writer should be constantly learning and improving, not only from books and workshops but also by reading great novels. And over time, they will discover the rules that work for them and guide them in the creation of their best work.   In that spirit, having started my workshop with Somerset Maugham's quote, I then tell attendees that for me, there are four key elements to a good story. I am talking about crime novels, but I think the same applies to other genres. These elements are linked together, but over the next four blogs, I am going to try to tease them apart to discuss each in turn.

In keeping with Tom's post, the first element is a character worth caring about. There can be more than one character worth caring about, of course, but at the very least there should be one. It can be the protagonist, the victim, or even the "villain". Worth caring about is not synonymous with likeable. It represents a deeper level of identification and engagement. Something about the character should touch you in a way that makes you care about what happens to them and makes you want to spend three hundred pages with them to find out how they end up. If you have ever watched a TV show or read a book that has no character you cared about, you probably didn't finish the book or watch the next episode.

I've wrestled with how to define what makes a character worth caring about. Although positive traits are part of it – few readers want to spend time with a despicable character– I think caring comes not from being likeable, charming, funny, or brave, but from layers, flaws, conflicting desires, and a personal issue they are struggling with. Readers care about different things and identify with different struggles, but generally the more your character wrestles with a universal challenge like love, loss, loneliness, fear, or anger, the more likely the reader will identify and care about them.

The word worth is an essential part of my phrase. Is the character worthy of the reader's investment? Characters who are shallow, frivolous, silly, boring, or facing a superficial challenge are usually not worth our time (nor do they pique our interest), unless the frivolity is in itself a challenge they recognize and wrestle with as they seek a deeper meaning or commitment. But often when writers try to give their characters a meaningful challenge, they fall into cliches or superficiality themselves. The burnt-out cop, the loser in search of redemption, and the brave young widow(er) in search of a new start have all been done to death, so the writer has to work hard to make that character and their situation unique. Similarly giving a character a quirk like second sight, illness, autism, OCD, or disability is no substitute for making that character real, unique, and full rounded.

These are some of my thoughts about what makes a character intriguing enough to draw us in. It doesn't have to be complex or heavy-handed. I'm sure my dogs in the simple photo have already tugged at a few heartstrings and everyone wants to know what happens to them.

Why do we humans need storytelling so much?

by Rick Blechta

Stories are such an integral part of our lives. Every nation, every culture, all people tell stories. The formats vary widely, but when you stop and think about it, they’re a huge part of our everyday lives and I’m certain this goes right back to our earliest ancestors.

Stories help us understand who we are and how we fit into our societies. They tell us where we came from. They can be basic — your mother telling you about your birth — right up to the latest 3D, computer-generated wonders out of Hollywood. It makes no difference. At their root all stories are the same. They teach, they make us wonder, they make us think and consider, they can give us comfort or sorrow, and they can entertain. They can be spoken, written, sung, watched. They can even be conveyed through images with no attached words or dialogue.

I wonder if there is a single human, alive or dead, who has not been blessed with storytelling in their life? I cannot imagine it. First and foremost, it would be hard to run away from, wouldn’t it? Can you imagine living without stories? No books, no movies, no radio or television, books on tape, talking to other people. Storytelling starts early, basically as soon as we can understand what are parents are saying to us we’re being told stories.
We humans crave to be told stories. I know I do. I read as much as I am able. I love to watch movies. When driving on long trips, I always have an audio book on. I’m particularly fond of radio plays. In contemplating this topic I realized just how ever-present stories are in my life.

Most of all, though, I love telling stories. It’s what drives me to write novels. Heaven knows I don’t do it for the money I make! It’s what makes all writers put so much effort into sharing their ideas and characters, and it’s a wonder for us when we share our creations with other humans.

Hopefully our stories will outlive us, and that too is a wonder. What would Homer think if he was told that his two great works, The Iliad and The Odyssey were still being enjoyed thousands of years after he created them?

Now I don’t for a moment believe anyone will be reading a Blechta creation thousands of years from now, but it’s enough to know people are reading them right now — and hopefully enjoying the experience.

And now I’ve just told you a short little story. I hope you got something out of it.

Deadlines

I hate deadlines.  Mention the word and my brain goes into lockdown.

I got back from holiday to find my page proofs waiting reproachfully.  Having slogged through them, I suddenly realised that I'd got confused about my post and had thought it was next week.  Usually, I think over what to write but now I have a deadline and yup!  brain lockdown.

So I thought I'd share this with you by way of apology.

It made me laugh, anyway.

Turning 50

I turned 50 this week. My wife is planning a big birthday party, which I am trying like hell to squash. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate her efforts, but I just don’t see the point. My 50th birthday felt just like all the others. The day was the same as other days. I got up at 5 a.m., went to the gym, and tried like hell to write a scene that day. Same as any other day.

What turning 50 has changed, maybe, is that I’m thinking about aging well a little more this week. Heart disease (and other bad things) run in my family. (My 18-year-old freshman, Audrey, a distance runner at Denison University, called and said she had to take a physical for the Denison Athletic Department. “I had to check every box on the sheet,” she said. “Heart disease, diabetes, cancer…” “Sorry, kid,” I said.)

I’m trying to make better choices regarding my health, but that didn’t start this week; it began last summer when I went gluten-free. Haven’t lost weight, but I feel better. And I’m exercising. Years of hockey left me with an arthritic back. Running hurts my back, and my body breaks down. It’s an admission that's been a long time coming because I enjoy the solitude of running. I’ve found that weight lifting, though, makes everything feel better, tighter. So I try to get in the weight room every day. I see many benefits to doing this. My back feels a hell of a lot better, and when that happens my golf game is much improved.

But I’m not lifting weights to play golf. I’m doing it to write.

When I’m up early and exercising, my writing is better. I’m more focused. I get more done in less time, which means a lot to me because I don’t have a lot of spare time.

Haruki Murakami, in his book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, writes about his relationship with “serious” running, which he defines as six miles every day. I know that very often distance runners (cross country and track) have the highest GPAs on college campuses, and I imagine endorphins have a lot to do with that.

My goal at age 50 is only to set myself up to be writing at 60, 70, and 80. I think about Hemingway’s decline in his 50s and how it all ended at 61. My own father passed at 63, far too young.

So, yes, there might be a party I’m not supposed to know about. And, yes, there will probably be lots of gag gifts, and I’ll laugh, and we will no doubt all have a good time. But the truth is I’m treating 50 like any other day. Because the goal of 50 is to make sure I’m still writing at 60.

125,744

125,744. That’s how many steps my Fitbit says I walked last week, Saturday to Saturday, when I was in Las Vegas for the Creative Painting convention. I’ve been home for 3 days, but I’m still a little Vegas-lagged. I can’t say I’m jet lagged because I didn’t change time zones and it was only a 45 minute flight. Still, my brain is still recovering from all that Vegas stimulation so I won’t be talking about anything super serious today.

The Creative Painting convention has been going on for almost 30 years. (Next year will be the 30th one.) My sister and I have been attending for about 20 of those. Honestly, I lost count a long time ago. We take classes, shop the trade show floor and enjoy the other things Las Vegas has to offer. It’s also a way for me to see what’s going on in the tole/decorative painting world since my series protagonist, Aurora (Rory) Anderson, enjoys painting as well. I like to incorporate some aspect of painting in each book so going to the convention gives me ideas.

This time we tried something new: alcohol ink. The concept is fairly simple: dab a bit of alcohol ink on the piece (in our case it was a ceramic plate) and immediately blow it with compressed air. That’s the same compressed air you use for cleaning electronics. You can make interesting things. This is what our piece was supposed to look like:

I did not paint this! Wish I had.

Let’s just say, my execution of the technique left something to be desired. Alcohol ink dries very fast, especially in the Las Vegas air, so you’ve got to spread the ink before it dries. Turns out, that was something I found hard to do. I’m sure I’d improve with a lot of practice. Just like you improve your writing by writing, writing, writing.

We also went to see several shows while we were there: Cher at the Park/MGM, Potted Potter at Bally’s and magician Shin Lim/mentalist Colin Cloud at the Mirage. All were very fun. Potted Potter was “all 7 Harry Potter books in 70 minutes.” Two Brits with minimal sets having a lot of fun. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.

Waiting for the concert to begin at the Park Theater, Park/MGM

Cher was awesome. I’ve enjoyed her music since watching the Sonny and Cher show in the 70s. And the show put on by Colin Cloud and America’s Got Talent winner Shin Lim was just amazing.

We were there over a holiday weekend so I expected it to be very busy, but it wasn’t. Everyone began to trickle in over the week because there was a lot going on in Vegas.

• The Democrats were caucusing so the Democratic candidates were in town for a debate at Bally’s/Paris. 

• The president was in town for four days snarling up traffic a bit. 

• There were two Golden Knights hockey games at the T-Mobile arena near the New York New York casino. 

• The Wilder v. Fury fight was at the MGM Grand the day we left so there was a lot of build-up during the week. 

• And NASCAR rolled into town on Friday evening.

•  Plus all of the other conventions that were going on at the same time as ours.

Makes me tired thinking of all of that activity!

Flamingos at the Flamingo hotel

A blinged out dragon at Caesar's Palace

When I go to a place with a lot of people, I enjoy just looking around and observing. It gives me ideas for characters I can include in future stories.

That’s my Vegas trip wrap up. I already have ideas of things to do and places to see next year. How many of you have been to Las Vegas? Do you like it? I find people either love it or hate it. Which one are you?

Musings on how we human beings can screw up ANYTHING.

by Rick Blechta

No, I’m going to be talking about something small and seemingly insignificant: spam.

As regular readers of Type M know, we had to institute a policy of all comments having to be reviewed before they’re posted on our blog. Why? Because we were getting increasing amounts of spam, people promoting things without regard to the fact that said items or services had nothing to do with why our blog exists.

At the moment, this gatekeeping duty is falling on me, although we’ll all eventually rotate this responsibility between ourselves. (Fortunately, it’s not that onerous a duty.) But having to look at spam comments submitted nearly every day — already two this morning — I’ve been struck by just how useless 99.9% of the offerings are.

What’s troubling is that the internet, something that offers such a potentially wonderful way of communicating on a worldwide basis, has become polluted by so much garbage, messages of real value can barely get through. 

As a mental image, I liken spam to all the plastic floating in our oceans. It is useless — although spam is far less harmful and the spam situation much less desperate — but it is another indication how the human species can take pretty well anything that is good, and turn it into a garbage dump.

If you’ve looked at our comments page, you’ve probably noticed the warning (in caps!) about how spam is not welcome here and will not be posted. Has this slowed down the spammers? Nope. Not one iota.

Over the weeks, this has become personal. I, for one, will not give in! I’ve undertaken as a long-term project to go over all of the 3608 posts Type M has in its archives and atomize every single piece of spam.

Why? Because for once I can actually control and eliminate something I view strongly as being a major negative in our blog project. I can really make a difference, even though it’s a very tiny one. And you know what? It is goddam exhilarating!

Stepping off the soapbox…

Getting Readers Invested Through Emotion

In the creative writing class I teach at our local college, my students all read from their works in progress.  I was very impressed with their level of talent.  As we were getting ready to leave, I impulsively gave them homework.  I asked them to write a deeply emotional scene and keep it to no more than a single page.

While driving home that night, I wondered to myself why I’d even thought to do that.  It wasn’t something I’d planned to do ahead of time.

Then I realized that, while most of what they’d written was technically proficient, I hadn’t become emotionally invested in some of their characters.

There was one important exception and that was a piece done on a child’s suicide as written from the first person viewpoint of the mother. It was a powerful piece of writing that was both jarring and moving at the same time.

Emotion.  That’s what makes the characters and their situations real to us.  We can relate to what they’re feeling.

We’ve all felt emotions like love, even if it’s been for your pet.  Or the pain of heartbreak, or grief, or disappointment.  When your character feels those emotions, the reader can feel them as well. They’re familiar to all of us.

But better to show than to tell.

Instead of saying: She was afraid to open the box. We might say, instead, something like: Her hands trembled, her fingertips not quite touching the lid of the box. She was filled with dread, imagining what horrible artifact might be inside.

Instead of saying: He recalled how his father had loved him. We might say, instead, something like: He recalled how his father had bought him his first baseball glove, showed him how to care for it, and taught him how to pitch.  And the beaming smile on his father’s face when he won his first Little League game.

I wrote about grief in my second Geneva Chase novel. Her lover is dead and she’s trying to cope.  I wrote about it this way:

This was originally Kevin’s house and this was his bedroom. Oh sure, my framed posters and photographs are on the walls now and his Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar is long gone. My books are in the bookshelves, my sheets and duvet are on the bed, and my television is sitting on the dresser.

But this is his bedroom.

I’d kept some of Kevin’s clothes. They’re hanging in the closet next to mine.  Now and then, I open the closet door and hug his shirts and slacks to my face, wishing he were in them.

I kept his aftershave on the counter in the bathroom, next to where I keep my cosmetics. I open it and I can smell Kevin, almost as if he were standing behind me.

Where is the line between grief and fetishizing the dead?

*****************

No, fetishizing isn't a real word. I write fiction, I make stuff up.

Let me finish by quoting James Michener. He said, "I love writing. I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions."

Guest Blogger Ann Parker

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

Music, Murder, and Mayhem in the Silver Rush series

By Ann Parker

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Writing in the Midst of Much To Do

I forgot today is my day to blog. I've been checking my phone every morning for the day of the week. Then I check my appointment book. I'm still old-school with that. A book that I can open and flip through the pages.

This morning, I forgot I was blogging today because I didn't have time to check my calendar. I had an appointment to take Harry, my cat, to the vet. One of his eyes has been watering, but it was looking better. I almost canceled, but then I would have felt guilty if later it turned out to be something painful or serious. He dashed toward the bed when he heard me bringing in his crate, I lured him out by spraying the bathroom with Clorox. Don't ask me why, but he loves the smell of it. He trotted right into the bathroom and started to sniff and looked ready to hop into the wet bathtub. I shut the door and dashed for his crate before he suffered lung damage. 

He was not happy when I opened the door again and scooped him up for that hated trip in the car that always winds up on the table being poked and prodded. But today, he only got his nails clipped, eye drops, and treats with nutrients for vision. He was happy to have lunch and go out on the enclosed porch to turn paws up in the sun. I had to go back out to do errands before I could go to office. 

Now, it's the end of the day and I am going home to settle down to writing. I believe more and more that I should go back to the way I used to write. Log off the email, ignore the news alerts popping up, and settle in for five hours of uninterrupted time at the keyboard. This week, I made numerous notes to myself about both my historical thriller and my two non-fiction projects. The time I wasn't writing actually proved useful because in one of those marvelous examples of serendipity (I love that word), I happened across articles relevant to all three projects. 

With the 1939 thriller, I accidentally ended up on a Yahoo page devoted to interesting news stories. One of them was about a man who had bought a dresser at an auction and discovered a secret drawer. Then I was re-reading Agatha Christie's Death on the Nile because it was published in the United States in 1938, and one of my characters in my 1939 thriller will have read it. As I was reading I came across several lovely references to clothing that I want to quote in my non-fiction book about dress and appearance in American crime and justice (because, of course, Americans were reading Christie in real life). I also stumbled across a quote in a newspaper article about a real life gangster that will work well in my book about gangster movies. So my time was not wasted. I now have a frame story for the events in the historical thriller and several useful quotes for the other two books. 

Today the sun was shining. That was good. It was even better when I heard from one of our SinC chapter members that we have only 23 seats left for the second day of our Murderous March conference (March 20-21). That's good news because it means that with the Saturday portion of the conference still a month away, the library that we are partnering with for the third year is already near 80 person capacity. But we have lots of space at the hotel where we have a block of rooms so we can accommodate any of those people who decide to attend the Friday afternoon workshops with Sujata Massey and Alison Gaylin and the buffet dinner that evening. I think it also means that the people who attended last year's conference are excited about the third year of what is now an annual conference. This year, we are being joined by authors from MWA-NY. I'm among those upstate members who can rarely make it down to the City for chapter meetings, so I'm happy that they're coming upstate. We are also going to have authors from New England and the SinC Murder on Ice chapter in western New York. For the first time, we'll have a Pathways to Publishing panel with industry professionals. With luck we won't have a blizzard that weekend. 

Tonight, I am going to turn off all my distractions and settle down to write. That's also how I'm going to spend the weekend. Even with the notes I've jolted down, I need to get back to work.

Segue

Segue (SEG-way): to make a transition without interruption from one activity, topic, scene, or part to another – Merriam-Webster Dictionary

I (Donis) have just written a really great scene. It really explains a lot about my character and why she does what she does. Now I need to figure out where in the story to put my scene. I know where I want to put it, but I need a really good segue. Otherwise the scene will stick out like a sore thumb.

My book-writing technique is rather like quilting. I tend to write separate scenes, like quilt blocks, and then stitch them together to form what I hope is a unified whole. Sometimes I take my scene-blocks and try different arrangements to see which makes the most beautiful/logical/suspenseful pattern. If I put this scene here, will it reveal too much too soon? If I arrange these three scenes next to one another, will that make too many pages without action or a clue for the reader to follow?

Once I have all my scene-blocks in an order that pleases me, or at least works, then I have to start stitching. I don't particularly enjoy starting on the segues. By the time I get to the “stitching” part, I've written the fun stuff, the beautiful descriptions, the exciting action, the subtle clues and red herrings. Now it's just a slog to make it all hang together.

You have to be careful with segues. You don't want to add anything to your story that slows down the action, so it's best to be minimal when all you're doing is moving from one scene to the next. Sometimes, though, while I'm slogging, I realize all kinds of things about the movement of my story. Perhaps I don't even need a segue from this scene to that one. Maybe it's better story-telling if I shock the reader with a sudden jump in the action. Sometimes the segue itself turns into another entire scene that adds a lot of color or explains things a lot better.

There is an art to it, and a science, too, to know just how much is enough and not one word more. It's a lesson I have to learn with every book I write.

Walking for mind and soul

Facebook is very useful for the random links it shares, sometimes posted by friends and other times by sponsoring companies. Facebook is also good at tracking what I like or might want, so I would never get a link to Rebel Media, for example. (if I did, it would be killed as fast I could click delete.)

Recently The New Yorker posted a link to an article about the connection between walking, thinking, and writing. I apologize if this link is behind a paywall, but the gist is that walking stimulates creativity and novel thinking by allowing the mind to drift in and out between the real world and our own inner world, and furthermore, that walking in nature does this better than walking in the city.

Other studies have confirmed the benefits to both physical and mental health of walking in nature, this at a time when more and more people live in clamorous cities and green spaces are fewer and fewer (because there are no property taxes to be collected on parks, for one thing). My city of Ottawa has an official city planning policy of "intensification", which means building more tall condos and multi-unit dwellings on lots where there used to be smaller homes on lots with lovely mature trees and gardens. But I digress.

The main interest for me in this article, and in similar ones, is that walking in nature stimulates creative thought. Scientifically, this is apparently because blood flow to the brain increases when we move and because our body, including our brain, tends to move in sync with our surroundings. Hence if we are listening to hard rock music or walking down a busy street, our body revs up. While this can be energizing and enjoyable at the right time, it is not conducive to creative thought, which needs a drifting openness of mind to allow novel, random thoughts to enter.

Like most authors, I suspect, I have always known this. Because I have dogs, I take long walks every day and that's when I do my best story development. If I have a plot snag or a character puzzle, I often take a walk just to "clear my head". I find the act of walking is a non-intrusive backdrop with just enough stimulation to keep me thinking. Have you ever tried to sit in a chair doing absolutely nothing except think? Chances are you start to doodle or jot down notes or pace from the kitchen to the office.

The walks in nature are by far the best. Distractions are fewer, you don't have to watch for street lights or dodge cars or pedestrians, you can look for occasional inspiration at the rustling trees and glistening lake. Or you can stay almost entirely inside your own head, imagining your story. Taking this nature walk idea one step further, another scientific benefit is that walking on uneven, unpredictable terrain like a hiking trail engages more parts of the brain than walking in a straight line along a flat path. This has limits for creativity, I find, because if you have to pay attention not to trip over a root or rock, you can't lose yourself as completely in your imagination, but in moderation, it can help get the juices going.

One worrisome thing I notice on my walks is how few people are actually enjoying just being in nature. Almost everyone is listening to something on their earbuds (audio books, music?). Since I find that disruptive to my thoughts, I never do, but I'd like to know if it helps or hinders "mind drift". Or if the walkers are not attached to earbuds, they have their nose in their phones, oblivious to everything around them. This transports them to another world, for sure, but not one of their own imagination. I am afraid that imagination and mind drift are becoming a lost art.

And what a loss that would be to our creative future.

The saddest thing

by Rick Blechta

Too often we crime writers get caught up in our own plots and either gloss over the tragedy of sudden death or decide the pressure of keeping our story zipping along require us to just move on and not acknowledge that the death of the victim has will most likely create a mountain of heartache for those who cared and have been left behind to deal with it. I know I’m more than guilty of doing this.

On the other hand, paying attention to documenting the emotional fallout that always follows a murder would become emotionally crushing after awhile. I’m certain it would turn readers off. To be perfectly cold about it, in many cases it does slow down the story. We often use the dodge that “the killer must be found!” (Whether we’re consciously using this as a dodge or just a plot convenience is a moot point.) If we did stop and weave the sadness into our plots as a matter of course, our books would become overly depressing. Readers like to be told a good story full of twists and turns, populated by interesting characters, and at the end, all would be explained and the miscreants brought to justice. Real life is so depressing these days that who wants more to be piled on when reading for enjoyment?

Yes, sensitive writers do try to work something of this personal tragedy into their plots where they can, and that can be a good thing, but by and large it’s glossed over.

Now here’s where real life comes into our discussion. I’m sure we could all come up with multiple instances of tragic death that we’ve heard about in only the past week. But as uncomfortable and depressing as it is, maybe there’s something that could be used as a quick snapshot to bring the suffering that is visited on those left behind when a loved one dies.

I have a story I’m going to share and it happened here in Toronto last week. It is heartbreaking, but there is also a sliver of something that is uplifting nonetheless.

Two victims of the shooting down of the Ukrainian flight out of Tehran on January 8th, mother and daughter lived just north of Toronto. Reera Esmaelion, 9 years old had tickets to  a performance of Hansel and Gretel with her mom this past weekend. It would have been her first opera experience and as a budding pianist, she was very excited about it. In the aftermath her father Hamed asked that their seats be left empty to honour them. Here is the result of that request posted on the Canadian Opera’s Facebook page:

“Reera Esmaeilion and her mother, Parisa, had been excited to join us this weekend for our final Opera For Young Audiences performance of HANSEL & GRETEL. We were heartbroken this week to learn of their passing in the crash of Flight PS752 on January 8, 2020 and kept their seats empty yesterday afternoon, in honour of their memory and shared love of music. Our thoughts and hearts remain with Hamed Esmaelion, who kindly shared his family photos, and all those touched by this tragedy.”

Absolutely heartbreaking, yes. But perhaps a similar scene, a mere paragraph or two, would help hammer home the grievous story beyond the recounting of a violent death in a crime fiction story and allow a bit more humanity to shine through rather than racing on to tell our story and glossing over something so important. We owe it to our “victims.”

Weathering the Weather

Here in Edinburgh the winter has been good so far. When the south was getting day after day of rain, we had those perfect cold winter days – frosty, the sky clear and brilliant blue, the air so cold it almost feels fizzy on your throat like champagne.

This weekend it all changed.  Violent winds, with 90mph gusts in some places, torrential rain which turned sleety and has now left a wet slushy coating on everything and outside now it's grey sky right down to the ground. I don't need to go out tonight so I can look for a good book and huddle by the fire.

Since my books have rural settings, the weather always plays a big part. In Devil's Garden, the new book that's coming out in June, DCI Kelso Strang has to cope with the major storm that hit the country at the end of February last year, the one that became known as The Beast from the East.

It actually stranded me in London, with no trains getting through to Edinburgh until they could get snowploughs through the drifts that had shut the line at Carlisle, so I remembered it all very clearly. The only trouble was that when I was actually writing about it, it was sunny and warm and we were having meals in the garden and it was a real effort of the imagination to get back into feeling what my characters would be experiencing.

I've had that problem before, when the work is going well and I'm really absorbed.  When I reread, I find that I've described what I'm seeing out of the window instead of what the characters would be seeing – leaves on the trees, perhaps, which would be very confusing to a reader who has been under the impression that the action takes place in November. If I fail to notice even then – well, that's where the copy-editing comes in – see my last post!

One of the other problems is knowing what flowers or trees you can expect to be in flower at which time of year – I spend my life looking up botanical references. Birds too are a bit inconvenient – here we have a lot of migratory ones and you have work out when the ones you've chosen to feature aren't still enjoying themselves in sunnier climes.

Which brings me back to the book I need to take my mind off the weather tonight.  Out of Africa, perhaps – or would that just make me miserably discontented?. Maybe I'd be wiser to pick up T. E. Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom, with all the horrors of desert heat to remind me how lucky I am to live where I do.

I find myself muttering a little rhyme my mother used to say provokingly when we were complaining about rain spoiling holiday plans: 'But we'll weather the weather whatever the weather, Whether we like it or not.'

Series Characters--To Cherish or Not?

One of the problems with a mystery series is that of reintroducing characters. Fans of the series don't want a detailed synopsis of each and every person who appeared in previous books. On the other hand, new readers will be quite bewildered when a person suddenly shows up with a built in role. 

In real life, I feel the same awkwardness when I'm supposed to know someone I've never been introduced to. One situation that was hilariously funny was when one of my daughters was married and no one introduced me to the father of the groom. We were across the room from each other at a party and nodded with weak polite smiles. I would like to think I finally resolved this by simply saying "Hello, I'm Charlotte Hinger. The mother of the woman your son is going to marry."

I probably didn't because I have a real talent for complicating matters. But really, our families would be joined for life. Surely we could do better than identifying one another through the process of elimination.

For once writing a series in first person helps solve this problem, because--as Lottie Albright--and by incorporating the blessed technique of projecting thoughts, Lottie can dread the volcanic disruption of a visit by her husband's daughter Elizabeth, or worry about his daughter, Angie, who falls for cruel men. 

With third person the process is more awkward, plus there is a danger of "spoilers." Revealing plots of previous books. As in, "you know, the evil psychologist we put in prison a couple of years ago." This isn't fair to the new reader who loves book number five, decides to read ALL of the series and discovers he or she already knows how previous books have turned out. 

There are four characters who simply must be in all of my books: the sheriff, Sam Abbot, Lottie's twin sister, Josie Albright, her husband, Keith Fiene, and Tosca, the adorable little Shih-Tzu who somehow wiggles her way into every plot. 

I would love to hear tips and advice from my savvy blogmates on reintroducing all the people we've managed to accumulate through the years. 

The light and the dark

Over the past month, I’ve read Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens, and Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned, by Walter Mosley. These are two great books, both. But they are entirely different and show us many things about where the genre is, has been, and will be.

Owens’s Crawdads is a perfectly plotted and insightful coming-of-age story about a young woman who is accused of a murder. The crime scene is well detailed but cozy-like in its descriptions. Owens plays fair with the reader, and the whodunit is answered on the last page. Agatha Christie could not have plotted it better.

Mosley’s Outgunned is Mosley at his best –– offering a glimpse into the African-American experience, shedding light on the results of incarceration, and the illusion-versus-reality of our criminal justice system. It is cruel, dark, and real.

I love both of these books. And I think each of them tells us something interesting about the state of the genre. Raymond Chandler said there are no dull topics, only dull minds. He was speaking of the concept of plot. Each of these books illustrate his point. And it’s a point worth making: any topic is a good one for a crime novel, in a capable writer’s hands.

Both of these books feel authentic and atmospheric and very real. They speak to the possibilities and the options of the genre, and to what is available to writers: themes in these books (I’m being careful not to give spoilers here) are both heavy and light. Reads find discoveries of identity; race and socio-economics in the criminal justice system; and violence is explored and handled differently by each writer.

So what does this say about the state of the genre? The options for you (and me) are endless. Write what you know. Or write what you’re scared to know. But as you go forward, remember Chandler’s quip. The concept is rarely bad. It’s only handled badly.

The Books of Dark Shadows

Lately, I've been rediscovering the books based on the supernatural soap opera, Dark Shadows, which aired in the mid sixties to the early seventies. I was one of those kids who "ran home" from school to watch it. Okay, I actually took the bus, but I ran into the house as soon as it let me off.

I read a number of these books (there were 33) when they came out starting in 1966. In junior high, when we had to do a dramatic reading of a book, I chose one of the DS books. I don’t remember which one, but I can tell you that the passage I read was a lot more interesting than anything others read. I’m pretty sure it involved a vampire and/or a werewolf.

The books were all written by Marilyn Ross, pen name of writer William Edward Daniel Ross. I guess the powers that be thought having a woman's name on the books was the best way to go. He was a Canadian author (among other things) who wrote over 300 novels in a variety of genres.

My home library includes some of the books I bought way back then for 50 cents each as well as others I found in thrift stores.

Recently I learned that they’re all being reissued in paperback and audio formats. I’m sure when “Marilyn Ross” wrote them, he thought they’d be forgotten once the soap ended. But Dark Shadows has never really been out of the public eye. Episodes have been syndicated as well as being released on VHS and DVD. There have been conventions. (I’ve been to quite a few.) And in 1991 there was a revival of the series, which was beautifully done, but had the bad luck of airing at the time of the Gulf War. The CW did a pilot of a new version, but it was never picked up. I hear someone else is giving it a go again.

But, up until now, the books haven’t been easily available. Kathryn Leigh Scott who played Maggie Evans plus other characters on the original series, does a nice job reading them for the audio versions. Even if you know nothing about the soap, they are still fun reads. They certainly bring back fond memories for me.

Dan Curtis, the creator of Dark Shadows, never expected it to have the longevity it’s had. None of the actors did, either. There’s a newly released documentary on Curtis called Master of Dark Shadows that’s worth watching.

All of this just goes to show you that no one knows what’s going to catch the public eye and be successful. I’ve never been one to chase trends, anyway. I intend to write what I want to write and see what happens.

Falling in love with characters

by Rick Blechta

It’s a fact of life that we writers must find a connection with our characters in order to write effectively. Basically, if we don’t feel something about them, how can we expect anyone else to care, and care they must, or they won’t continue reading.

The second favourite child of my novel output, Cemetery of the Nameless, started life as a completely different story. I wrote nearly 70 pages with a totally different protagonist. After working for nearly two months on the manuscript, I crashed into a hard stone wall that would not budge.

The reason? I really disliked my protagonist. No matter what I did, he complained. He whined. He whinged. And I couldn’t stop him. Lord knows I tried! To borrow a somewhat rude British term, David was a total wanker. I knew wouldn’t be able to restrain myself and would likely bump him off before reaching the end of my story. Not a good situation when the narration is first person!

I’ve documented this several years ago in a post here, so I won’t belabour the point, but the solution was to keep the main idea of the story (a lost Beethoven manuscript) but change out the protagonist to one with whom I was more simpatico, one whom I liked better.

While this is the opposite end of what the title of this post indicates, I felt my personal story about a writer’s relationship with main characters in a work would illustrate why it’s important to have some kind of feeling for the people who populate our plots. Let’s look at two of the crime fictions more notable citizens.

It’s well known that Dorothy L. Sayers was more than a little in love with her creation, Lord Peter Wimsey. Read a few of these (excellent) novels and you can’t fail to see it.

Agatha Christie on the other hand came to hate Hercule Poirot — even though she wrote 33 novels and 50+ short stories about his exploits. In a matter of 10 years, she found her creation to be a “detestable, bombastic, tiresome, ego-centric little creep”. Even so — probably with one eye on her bank account — she continued to write about the “insufferable” detective for another 45 years!

Why were both these series so enjoyed by readers even though one writer clearly loved her character and the other hated hers?

Because these talented writers made their readers feel something compelling about them, despite how they personally interacted with their creations.

And aren’t love and hate opposite sides of the same coin?