Thanksgiving: What the Deadly Daughters are thankful for this year

  

Elizabeth Zelvin

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was more or less about the food. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to enjoy taking stock of all the things I’m thankful for. Here are three that are particular to this year for me:

1. The Internet, for making it so much easier to keep in touch with my friends, who live on almost every continent and span many religions, races, and ethnic groups. We’ve shared baby pictures (and prenatal sonograms!) and grandchild videos across thousands of miles and been able to give and receive emotional support through all the ups and downs, including wars and natural disasters.

2. My beautiful city, New York, still brimming with life and spirit(you may call it “attitude”) ten years after 911.

3. The gift of music and the magic of a good collaboration: this year I spent hundreds of happy and harmonious (in every sense) hours co-producing a CD of my songs with an old friend in his recording studio, a lifelong dream come true. I’d say I can’t wait for the finished product, except that I’m enjoying the process so much I’ll be sorry when it ends.

Jeri Westerson 

1. I know it's corny, but I am ever thankful for my husband, the long-suffering one, the most understanding one in the world without whom I would not have slogged through the years and years of rejections and finally made my goal of being a published author.

2. Having inside me somewhere the ability to weave interesting stories out of whole cloth, a whispered word, or a picture of something in a book. Where does the Muse come from? Who cares! Just keep it coming.

3. I, too, appreciate the internet and the bounty it has to offer. Research is a snap because you can find the book and the library or archive its in, contact that archive, and connect with great people half a world away. It's a miracle!

4. And I love our Thanksgiving holiday camping and cooking the "man turkey" on a huge spit over the fire.



Julia Buckley

The older I get, the more thankful I feel; perhaps that's just the natural way of things. I find myself feeling grateful for my legs every time I take a walk, and for other things I might once have taken for granted, like the ability to breathe deeply and the chance to see the autumn colors.

I'm grateful for my intellect and for the ability to communicate my thoughts both verbally and in writing (and I feel this every time I watch my mother struggle with her aphasia).

I'm grateful for my sons and the fact that they've grown up to be intelligent and independent--and of course this gratitude becomes greater each day because I know that they will not always live here with me.

I'm grateful for my job and for my students, and for the sense of humor I inherited from my family. Like Jeri, I'm grateful for my husband, and for the memories we've made together.

I could go on all day, but here's one last one: I'm grateful for books and the wonderful stories that people tell, and for my ability to access them and read them!

Sheila Connolly

It's been one strange year, hasn't it?  And it's not even over yet.  For me it's been a kind of half-full/half-empty experience.

I broke my ankle in Ireland early in the year--but I'm grateful for the unexpected insights the event gave me into "real" Irish life, which I can use in a book.  I'm also grateful that the ankle healed well and is back to 99% normal (and I can even dance!).

I'm grateful that my readers like my work enough to convince my publisher to both extend contracts and offer a new one, so that I can continue to do what I love and even get paid for it.

I'm grateful to be part of what promises to be a revolution in the publishing world, as both writers and publishers struggle to make the transition from print books to ebooks.  It may be a while until the dust settles, but I continue to believe that what matters is that we get our words out there for people to enjoy, no matter what the format.

I'm grateful that our daughter is still living with us and working fulltime (at a bookstore!).  While of course I hope that she will move on and create a life of her own, filled with work that satisfies her and people whose company she enjoys, I'm happy to have her around now.  I'm also glad that somehow we managed to instill a solid work ethic in her (she's even saving money!).

Like Julia, I'm thrilled that my favorite writers continue to produce new books that bring joy to me and their other fans.  And thanks to the Internet, we can access publications that have long since fallen out of print and out of sight. 


Sandra Parshall

For more than a year, I've been profoundly grateful for the hunk of steel and plastic that now serves as my right knee. It's a nuisance at airport screening stations, but getting a full security pat-down in view of hundreds of other travelers is a small price to pay for the absence of pain.

Given the turmoil in publishing, I'm grateful that I still have a print publisher and an editor who appreciates my writing. I'm always grateful when a reader takes the time and trouble to let me know she or he enjoyed one of my books.

On a larger scale, I'm grateful that at least some of our troops are coming home from a war zone without the threat of a quick redeployment hanging over them.

Happy Thanksgiving to all our readers from Poe's Deadly Daughters!

What does Thanksgiving mean to you?

The winner of a free copy of Mr. Monk in Trouble is Abigail Beal.

Four of Poe’s Deadly Daughters celebrate Thanksgiving or, as some call it, Turkey Day today in the United States; the fifth had a Canadian Thanksgiving in October. This holiday means different things to different people. Is it about the food? Or gratitude? A joyous family reunion? A nightmare dysfunctional family reunion? Is it a harvest festival? A political sore spot in the history of Native American/white relations? We’re sharing our perspectives, and we hope you’ll tell us yours.


Elizabeth Zelvin
As I grow older and I hope a little wiser, Thanksgiving is less about the food (though I do enjoy it, especially the season’s orange foods, like sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie) and more about being thankful. Among my many blessings, I can count the ones I cherish most on one hand: my two granddaughters and my two published mystery novels make four, and, hmm, my health? my happy marriage? the fact that my beloved New York City is still standing in this precarious world? the abundance in my life in spite of the lousy economy? my friends?

Okay, so one hand won’t do it. I’m thankful for the English language, its expressiveness and flexibility. I’m thankful I learned to touch type, even though in my day girls feared that typing would doom them to a lifetime of secretarial work. I’m thankful my parents encouraged me to read—and glad I had the guts to leave literary fiction and the New York Times behind and strike out for the wilder shores of genre fiction. I’m thankful for librarians and indie booksellers and readers—and for the Internet that keeps me connected with all of them as well as fellow writers. And I’m thankful for the warmth and generosity of the mystery community, with whom I sit around the virtual table to celebrate this day.

Lonnie Cruse

What does Thanksgiving mean to me? A time with family and a time to be thankful to have them with us. Two members of our family have birthdays in late November, so we celebrate those and we generally celebrate the Saturday BEFORE Thanksgiving. You know what? It always seems like Thanksgiving because of the wonderful smells wafting out of the kitchen, no matter whose house we celebrate at. On the actual Thanksgiving day, we often go to our oldest son's house for lasagna and a hot set of card games. They celebrate with his wife's family on a different day as well, depending on work schedules. Both days are special. Our lovely daughter-in-law says her friends are always amazed that her folks and his folks enjoy getting together to play cards . . . meaning that both families get along so well.

Besides family and friends, I'm thankful to live in a country where my dream of becoming a writer could come true. Where most everyone's dreams can still come true, if we try hard enough! I'm thankful for the many freedoms we still have. I'm thankful for good books to read, for a sun porch to sit on and watch the birds, and for the many other blessings my family and I enjoy.

Sharon Wildwind

I get the best of both worlds: two turkey days. Some of our stuffed animal collections is Canadian, and some American, and woe be it to us to not celebrate twice, least—horrors of horrors—the miss a day off to which some of them are entitled.

I don't usually say things like this in public, but here goes. Among many things for which I'm thankful is that no one is shooting at me. It's a hold-over from Vietnam. You can't imagine how wonderful a silence is that doesn't contain the sound of an AK-47 or the double thunk of an incoming mortar round being launched. I am grateful for every day of peace and wish that feeling could be extended around the world.

Sandra Parshall
I have to admit that it's difficult to find much to be thankful for these days, with our country still bogged down in war and so many people here at home struggling to survive economically. I can't help thinking of the families who have lost loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the parents who have lost their jobs and can't provide the necessities for their children, much less a festive holiday celebration. I'm thankful that my husband and I are not suffering financially or lacking health care coverage, but I can't forget the many who are not so fortunate. I hope all the PDD readers are with loved ones today, safe and secure and counting your many blessings.

Julia Buckley
On Tuesday, November 17th, my older son was struck by a car while crossing a street on the way home from school. He ended up with cuts and bruises, and he's still emotionally shaken from the whole experience, but obviously it could have been much, much worse. I can't even express how an event like this puts things right into perspective. I really don't have any big plans for Thanksgiving, other than to spend it with my husband and children and to enjoy their physical presence. When I went to the scene of my son's accident, I had to knock on the door of an ambulance and wait to be admitted. (There was another boy in there, too--my son's friend who had been crossing with him. He too escaped with minor injuries). I stood outside that vehicle fearing the worst, and when they let me see Ian he was a bloodied version of himself, with only one shoe (they never found the other) and soaked clothing. But he was sitting up and looking at me, and my relief was so great that I couldn't stop touching him that day--his arm, his hair, his back. He even let us hug him: first me, and later, his father.

Now things are almost normal again, except that it doesn't faze me as much if he fights with his brother or if he complains that reading The Odyssey is as "boring as balls."

The fact is that I was taking my family for granted, and I am not doing so now. I am thankful, thankful, for my son and for everyone else in my life, and this Thanksgiving I will remain in a state of grace.

Being Thankful

Elizabeth Zelvin

Since I’m the Deadly Daughter who blogs on Thursdays, each year I have the delightful task of acknowledging Thanksgiving. Even in this terrible economy and the challenges of the times we live in, I have much to be thankful for this year. One of the nicest things about thankfulness is that it’s infinitely expandable. Rather than having to choose the one person, event, or object I’m happiest about, I can make a list.

Let’s start with the publication in 2008 of my first mystery (and first published novel), Death Will Get You Sober. My husband and I were looking at my high school yearbook the other night. There it was in black and white: in 1960, I already wanted to be a writer. “I am a writer, right?” I said. “Absolutely,” he said. I’ve been writing since I was seven, but a published novel is incontrovertible evidence that I still needed in spite of my two books of poetry, my professional writing on codependency and addictions and gender and online therapy. And this is the year it happened.

Of equal value or greater in my thankful heart: my two granddaughters. These two little girls are a miracle to me. The older one, who’s four, is a drama queen and a bit of a smartass, in the nicest possible way. Last time I saw them, they were on their way to the Bahamas for a vacation en famille. (My son and his wife, who are terrific parents, never get tired of their children, so I never get to babysit without supervision.) Katie asked if I’d like her to bring me something from the Bahamas. I didn’t want her to embarrass her mother with demands for, say, expensive jewelry for Grandma, so I said maybe she could bring me a seashell or something. Katie’s look made it clear I’d missed the point. “Do you want sand?” she asked, “or do you want water?” The little one, with her joyous grin, thinks that a camera or any other object held up to the eye is called, “Cheese!”



Back to books: I’m deeply thankful that St. Martin’s will publish the next in my mystery series, Death Will Help You Leave Him. I don’t have cover art yet, but having a series is even better than having a single mystery. I’m thrilled that I can go on hanging out with Bruce and Jimmy and Barbara as they tackle more murder and a number of addictive relationships. I’m thankful for the exponential growth in my ability to critique my work, see what’s wrong or too much, and kill my darlings when I have to. I’m thankful for the decrease in a lifelong shyness that enabled me to schmooze my way across the country on my book tour, enjoying every minute. I’m thankful for the Agatha nomination for my first short story, “Death Will Clean Your Closet,” and even more for my new and unexpected ability to write a short story now and then. It broadens my reach as a writer and provides, if not instant gratification, a respite from the prolonged agony of writing a novel.

The next item is one that’s so unprecedented that I couldn’t bear to omit it, with all due respect to any reader who may not feel the same: I am thankful for the result of the recent election. It’s been forty years since I’ve had any confidence in the American political process or hope that a candidate with integrity and intelligence would stand up and speak out without equivocation. I hope the world gets cleaner, kinder, more honest, and more peaceful in the next four years, and I’m grateful we have a shot at it.

This list could go on and on, but I’ll mention just one more composite item. I’m thankful for the many wonderful people in my life: family, friends, and fellow mystery lovers who have shared the 2008 leg of my journey. I’m thankful for the 60-odd people who showed up at my book launch in April; the 300 Guppies who shared the ups and downs of my journey to publication and beyond; the 20 or so members of my junior high school class with whom I’ve been having an extended and heartwarming reunion after 51 years. I’m thankful to and for everyone who bought my book and everyone who housed and fed me and transported me and came to my signings on my book tour. I’m thankful for Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime en masse, as well as everybody on DorothyL and CrimeSpace and Murder Must Advertise, all the mystery and indie booksellers and librarians I've met, the chain bookstore staff who made me welcome, and reviewers who enjoyed my book and said so, everybody at my publisher’s who’s helped make this dream come true, and my fantastic agent.

Sure, winning the lottery would be nice. So would having a bestseller or a movie option. But this year I already have everything of any importance that I could possibly be thankful for.

Being Thankful

Elizabeth Zelvin

My family never called Thanksgiving Turkey Day, as many people do nowadays, but if it had ever been suggested, as we sat down to the annual feast, that we go around the table and say what each of us was thankful for, they would have been surprised and mildly embarrassed. This doesn’t mean my parents didn’t appreciate the many good things in their lives: health, prosperity, family, and more than their fair share of brains and longevity. But thanksgiving in the spiritual sense was not in their vocabulary.

It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I don’t know how many online readers will be checking blogs today. But it seems like a good opportunity to mention a few things that I’m thankful for this year.

First, since this is a mystery lovers’ blog, let me mention The Book. Death Will Get You Sober will be published by St. Martin’s Press on April 15, 2008. The date will also mark my sixty-fourth birthday. I first announced I wanted to be a writer at the age of seven. You do the math. How can I not be deeply, deeply thankful for the fulfillment of this long cherished and elusive dream?

I’m equally thankful for my two beautiful granddaughters. There’s a saying about the way to leave one’s mark upon the world: Write a book, have a child, plant a tree. I’m very thankful that I’ve had the opportunity to do all three. I wish we had a better world to offer our kids, but for the moment, the ones with some of my genes are healthy and happy and getting plenty of love.

From the many additional items on my list, let me pick just one: that exasperating marvel of 21st century technology, the Internet. It’s given me quick access to friends all over the world, including my blog sisters on Poe’s Deadly Daughters and a huge support community of writers and mystery lovers. It puts whatever information I need at any given moment at my fingertips. It’s given me the ability to help people in need and make a living doing it, in my other “hat” as an online therapist. And as my family would be glad to tell you, that this right-brained anything-but-a-techie has managed to learn to use a computer at all is a miracle for which I am indeed thankful.