Posts
Elizabeth Zelvin
A few weeks back, Sandy Parshall used the expression “getting lost in a good book” in her blog post about the joys of suspenseful reading. It set off a train of association for me about how that happens and how it feels. As a mental health professional, I can tell you that the psychological phenomenon involved is dissociation. Getting lost in a book or movie, along with the long-distance driver’s road trance, is at the mild end of the same spectrum as dissociative identity disorder: the extreme condition that used to be called multiple personality. While it’s certainly not pathological, getting lost in a book produces the same effect of coming to with a jolt from a world that made the one you’re actually in vanish completely. There’s the same sense of having been somewhere else and having no idea how much time has passed.
Sandy also mentioned how sorry she is for people who miss this pleasure because they don’t read. A similar discussion was going on at the same time on DorothyL, triggered by some mystery writers’ experience of strangers—obviously not fans—who email or come up to them to announce that they only read non-fiction or that they only read the Bible. For me, it takes fiction—a story—to sweep me away that completely. My husband is a history buff and inveterate non-fiction reader. He’s always trying to involve me in his reading. He’ll chuckle aloud and say, “Listen to this!” as a preface to telling me some priceless tidbit about Napoleon or Frederick the Great. (When Death Will Get You Sober comes out, you’ll see I borrowed this trait for one of my characters.)
The standard answer to that or any other interruption in our house is, “Shush! I’m reading my bookie.” “Bookie” is our private baby talk for genre fiction, a novel on the light side of what the Brits call “a good read”—a story absorbing enough to sweep the reader away. It goes with teddy bears and cuddling up to read. My husband sometimes complains that it’s not fair to shush him, since I don’t always refrain from talking to him while he’s reading. But the truth is that he’s more willing to be interrupted when he’s reading serious history or something dense and weighty like a book by John McPhee. He’s absorbed, but not to the point of dissociation. I’ve noticed that when he lightens up enough to pick up a mystery, science fiction, or fantasy, he too says, “Shush! I’m reading my bookie.”
What lures me most intensely into an alternate world? While I read more mysteries than anything else, they were not the first books that sprang to mind. Historical fiction with endearing characters and a dollop of romance and fantasy can do it. I remember the pleasure of reading Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander for the first time. It utterly pulled me into the 18th century. Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond books take me just as thoroughly to the 16th century. Come to think of it, Lois McMaster Bujold’s Miles Vorkosigan series, set in the galactic future and on an old-fashioned planet within it, does the same. The common elements are lovability and a touch of romance, combined with highly intelligent writing, brilliant characterization, and superb storytelling. Of course, there’s plenty of that in mystery too. I don’t want to come back from Judge Deborah Knott’s North Carolina or Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes’s England (and points east and west) either. So shush! I’m reading my bookie.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Interview with Julia Spencer-Fleming
Sandra Parshall
Julia Spencer-Fleming began her career with In the Bleak Midwinter, which was published after winning the St. Martin’s Press contest for best first mystery novel and went on to win a string of major awards. Julia’s series about the Rev. Clare Fergusson and Police Chief Russ Van Alstyne, who solve mysteries together in Millers Kill, NY, while struggling with their forbidden love for one another, has grown in popularity with each entry. Her fifth book, All Mortal Flesh, is a current Agatha Award nominee for Best Novel.
Congratulations on your latest award nomination. You've had so many nominations and wins -- does it ever get old? Are you blase about it now?
Trust me, having readers, critics or fellow writers say they like your work never gets old. Nor does it make me blase--I assure you, I'll be as nervous as anyone else at the Agathas Banquet at Malice Domestic. What those past nominations or wins do give me is perspective--I know if I win, I'm not going to wake up the next day any richer, wiser or more beloved, and I know if I lose, I haven't lost any of the support of my readers, my friends, and my publishing company. And I know that either way, I'll be in the bar afterwards!
What changes have you seen in your writing over the years, and what aspects of craft have you consciously worked to improve?
With each book, I find I'm more and more letting go of rules and trusting in my own voice, my own choices about language and structure. In In the Bleak Midwinter, for example, I bent over backwards to ensure no adverb ever got past my keyboard, because I knew the rule is to convey everything through the dialogue and through active verbs. I've loosened up on that. I trust myself now to use adverbs for color and clarification, not as a crutch for lazy writing.
When I started, I worked very hard to improve my scene setting. Members of my writer's group told me my characters seemed to be talking in a gray fog somewhere! Consciously addressing that weakness obviously helped--critics have frequently commented on my vivid sense of place. Now, I'm working on paring my descriptions down, while still giving readers a clear image of the setting. I've been rereading Lee Child's work to help me with this--Lee is a master at giving you just enough to make the setting come to life,without throwing in a single extraneous detail. I'm trying to figure out how he does it. I suspect, like most of writing, it's practice, practice, practice.
What writers have influenced you most?
Margaret Maron, Archer Mayor and Sharyn McCrumb for their regional settings. Lawrence Block, Steve Hamilton, and Elmore Leonard for language and dialogue (although I'll never manage to be as spare as they are). Outside the genre, Lois McMaster Bujold, Joanna Trollope, Jodi Picoult--women who create the perfect reading experience for me.
Everyone who has read All Mortal Flesh is dying to know how you'll get Clare and Russ through the situation you set up at the end of the book. Can you give us even a tiny hint of what's to come for these two?
Boy, do I wish St. Martin's had put a burst on the cover of All Mortal Flesh: NOT THE LAST BOOK! It came out last October and I'm still getting four or five emails a day asking me if this is the end of Russ and Clare. No. It's not. I'm finishing up the sixth book, (very) tentatively titled When A Stranger. (Or maybe A Stranger Wandering. Or Now the Silence. Or In Mercy Broken.) It opens a few weeks after the end of All Mortal Flesh and takes us through a whole year in Millers Kill, NY. We get to see the Van Alstyne family expanding their dairy farm (with the help of illegal migrant workers), how Clare's life and ministry are affected by her decision to join the National Guard, and we're introduced to the MKPD's first-ever female officer. And of course, there's lots more Russ and Clare, as they struggle to come back from the terrible events of All Mortal Flesh.
You've reached the stage where a lot of writers try stand-alone novels. Do you have plans for one (or more)?
Definitely. I'm committed to a seventh Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne book, and then I'd like to turn my hand to a project I've been researching on and off for a few years. In 2002, Maine closed its 178-year-old state prison in Thomaston. Secretly, over the course of a few nights, every maximum security prisoner in the state was transferred by bus to the new SuperMax facility in the neighboring town of Warren. In February. When Maine gets some of its worst winter weather. I started thinking: what if one of the terrible ice storms we sometimes see blew in suddenly? What if the roads iced over, the power lines came down, the state troopers' cars and the busses went skidding off the narrow county highway? What if the last load of men and a handful of civilian observers were trapped together in an unlit, unheated, unsecured antiquity of a prison?
I can't wait to dive into that and see what happens. I also have other ideas, including a possible series featuring a sort of "anti-Clare Fergusson"--an Episcopal priest who's so burned out by 20+ years of ministering that she retires to what she hopes will be a hermit-like existence on a Maine island. And I'd love to do something lighter and more romantic, set in Alabama, where my father's side of the family is from.
Visit Julia's web site at www.juliaspencerfleming.com.
Julia Spencer-Fleming began her career with In the Bleak Midwinter, which was published after winning the St. Martin’s Press contest for best first mystery novel and went on to win a string of major awards. Julia’s series about the Rev. Clare Fergusson and Police Chief Russ Van Alstyne, who solve mysteries together in Millers Kill, NY, while struggling with their forbidden love for one another, has grown in popularity with each entry. Her fifth book, All Mortal Flesh, is a current Agatha Award nominee for Best Novel.
Congratulations on your latest award nomination. You've had so many nominations and wins -- does it ever get old? Are you blase about it now?
Trust me, having readers, critics or fellow writers say they like your work never gets old. Nor does it make me blase--I assure you, I'll be as nervous as anyone else at the Agathas Banquet at Malice Domestic. What those past nominations or wins do give me is perspective--I know if I win, I'm not going to wake up the next day any richer, wiser or more beloved, and I know if I lose, I haven't lost any of the support of my readers, my friends, and my publishing company. And I know that either way, I'll be in the bar afterwards!
What changes have you seen in your writing over the years, and what aspects of craft have you consciously worked to improve?
With each book, I find I'm more and more letting go of rules and trusting in my own voice, my own choices about language and structure. In In the Bleak Midwinter, for example, I bent over backwards to ensure no adverb ever got past my keyboard, because I knew the rule is to convey everything through the dialogue and through active verbs. I've loosened up on that. I trust myself now to use adverbs for color and clarification, not as a crutch for lazy writing.
When I started, I worked very hard to improve my scene setting. Members of my writer's group told me my characters seemed to be talking in a gray fog somewhere! Consciously addressing that weakness obviously helped--critics have frequently commented on my vivid sense of place. Now, I'm working on paring my descriptions down, while still giving readers a clear image of the setting. I've been rereading Lee Child's work to help me with this--Lee is a master at giving you just enough to make the setting come to life,without throwing in a single extraneous detail. I'm trying to figure out how he does it. I suspect, like most of writing, it's practice, practice, practice.
What writers have influenced you most?
Margaret Maron, Archer Mayor and Sharyn McCrumb for their regional settings. Lawrence Block, Steve Hamilton, and Elmore Leonard for language and dialogue (although I'll never manage to be as spare as they are). Outside the genre, Lois McMaster Bujold, Joanna Trollope, Jodi Picoult--women who create the perfect reading experience for me.
Everyone who has read All Mortal Flesh is dying to know how you'll get Clare and Russ through the situation you set up at the end of the book. Can you give us even a tiny hint of what's to come for these two?
Boy, do I wish St. Martin's had put a burst on the cover of All Mortal Flesh: NOT THE LAST BOOK! It came out last October and I'm still getting four or five emails a day asking me if this is the end of Russ and Clare. No. It's not. I'm finishing up the sixth book, (very) tentatively titled When A Stranger. (Or maybe A Stranger Wandering. Or Now the Silence. Or In Mercy Broken.) It opens a few weeks after the end of All Mortal Flesh and takes us through a whole year in Millers Kill, NY. We get to see the Van Alstyne family expanding their dairy farm (with the help of illegal migrant workers), how Clare's life and ministry are affected by her decision to join the National Guard, and we're introduced to the MKPD's first-ever female officer. And of course, there's lots more Russ and Clare, as they struggle to come back from the terrible events of All Mortal Flesh.
You've reached the stage where a lot of writers try stand-alone novels. Do you have plans for one (or more)?
Definitely. I'm committed to a seventh Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne book, and then I'd like to turn my hand to a project I've been researching on and off for a few years. In 2002, Maine closed its 178-year-old state prison in Thomaston. Secretly, over the course of a few nights, every maximum security prisoner in the state was transferred by bus to the new SuperMax facility in the neighboring town of Warren. In February. When Maine gets some of its worst winter weather. I started thinking: what if one of the terrible ice storms we sometimes see blew in suddenly? What if the roads iced over, the power lines came down, the state troopers' cars and the busses went skidding off the narrow county highway? What if the last load of men and a handful of civilian observers were trapped together in an unlit, unheated, unsecured antiquity of a prison?
I can't wait to dive into that and see what happens. I also have other ideas, including a possible series featuring a sort of "anti-Clare Fergusson"--an Episcopal priest who's so burned out by 20+ years of ministering that she retires to what she hopes will be a hermit-like existence on a Maine island. And I'd love to do something lighter and more romantic, set in Alabama, where my father's side of the family is from.
Visit Julia's web site at www.juliaspencerfleming.com.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Too Many Plots Spoil the Broth
Sharon Wildwind
Sometimes there can be too much of a good thing.
Consider a proposed mystery, "Devil at the Dinner Table." The theme is how a couple, in their fifties, cope with major changes. Minette and Dougie Shaw live in Drumheller, Alberta. Dougie owns a feed-and-hardware store. Minette is active in her church group and does volunteer work.
Major plots:
1. The RCMP arrest Dougie for a banker’s murder. To clear her husband, Minette solves the murder.
2. She discovers that her husband’s business is almost bankrupt, and starts her own business to support her family.
3. Stress jeopardize Minette and Dougie’s marriage.
Subplots:
1. Dougie covers up that he has diabetes. His poor health contributed to his business failure.
2. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives for the Christmas holidays. Desperate for money to start her business, Minette begs Eustacia to be her partner.
3. When their daughter, Jade, comes home from university on Christmas break, Minette tells her there’s no more money for tuition.
4. It’s a Christmas story, with a family reunion.
Consider this:
"Gone with the Wind" had one major plot and one subplot.
Main plot: Scarlet O’Hara survives the American Civil War and Reconstruction.
Subplot: She learns that men are real people, not toys.
Everything in the 1,024 pages relates to those two themes.
"Devil at the Dinner Table," with three major plots, and four subplots is an ambitious—and probably unachievable—goal. I need to winnow it down substantially, but where to start?
The main plot in a mystery is a given: solving the murder. All right, so I'm going to choose that one major plot as the focus of the book.
Words such as “and,” “but,” and complex sentence constructions, usually indicate multiple, separate subplots. Breaking down the Devil’s list, uncovers double the number of original subplots:
1. Minette discovers that Dougie’s business is almost bankrupt.
2. She starts her own business to try to save it.
3. Minette learns that Dougie has been covering up that he’s been diagnosed with diabetes.
4. Part of the reason the business is failing is his poor health.
5. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives unexpectedly to spend Christmas with them.
6. In order to have enough money to start her own business, Minette has to ask Eustacia to be her partner.
7. When Jade comes home from university on Christmas break, Minette has to tell her there isn’t enough money for her to finish her engineering degree.
8. It’s a Christmas story, with a family reunion.
Trust me, eight subplots are too many. Ways to winnow down subplots include determining the difference between an incident and a subplot; refusing to two-step in plot development, and focusing only on the subplots that relate directly to the main plots.
An incident is one emotionally-charged event, which may be crucial to the story, but the reader doesn’t follow it as a thread throughout the book. Incidents both turn the current plot, and sow seeds for future books. Bonnie Blue Butler’s death was in an incident, not a subplot.
Jade learning there is no money her tuition is an incident, rather than a subplot. Jade can either be emotionally supportive to her parents, or flounce out in heated anger. In either case, in a series, no resolution is needed in this book. Let the unanswered question of what will Jade do now hang there, and pick it up in the next book.
On the other hand, a subplot runs through a book, like a ripple of pink fabric running through an otherwise blue-and-green quilt. Eustacia coming for Christmas makes a nice accent subplot, used for comic relief.
Two-stepping belongs on the dance floor, not in subplots. Minette learns that Dougie’s business is failing, AND convinces Eustacia to be her partner, AND founds her own business is not only two-stepping, it’s three-stepping. Each element could be the focus of one book. It’s important to bring series characters along, using baby steps. Finding out the business is in trouble is enough for one book. Stay there. Dive deep into all the implications of a fifty-something wife, with no job skills, learning her financial security just disappeared. Look at it from different angles. Wring it out for all it is worth. Let it fill the entire book.
Finally, focus only on subplots, which relate directly to the main plots. How much does Dougie’s diabetes contribute to the story? More important, how much of the book’s word budget will the author spend on visits to the doctor, Minette learning to cook diabetic meals, conflicts between Minette and Dougie about is he or isn’t he doing what the doctor said, and the inevitable diabetic reaction at the climax of the book. Could it be a subplot best put away until a later book?
Books set in December can’t help but be Christmas stories, but adding a family reunion on top of everything else is over the top. However, Eustacia’s visit can tie that subplot firmly back into existing material. So ditch the family reunion.
A revised, and manageable, plot list for "Devil at the Dinner Table" might look like this.
Main plots:
1. When her husband is accused of murder, Minette Shaw finds the real murderer.
Subplots:
1. Minette discovers that the family business is almost bankrupt, and, at age fifty-four, learns that her future financial security has disappeared.
2. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives unexpectedly to spend the Christmas season.
That's a nice, managable list. Now all I have to do now is write the book.
Sometimes there can be too much of a good thing.
Consider a proposed mystery, "Devil at the Dinner Table." The theme is how a couple, in their fifties, cope with major changes. Minette and Dougie Shaw live in Drumheller, Alberta. Dougie owns a feed-and-hardware store. Minette is active in her church group and does volunteer work.
Major plots:
1. The RCMP arrest Dougie for a banker’s murder. To clear her husband, Minette solves the murder.
2. She discovers that her husband’s business is almost bankrupt, and starts her own business to support her family.
3. Stress jeopardize Minette and Dougie’s marriage.
Subplots:
1. Dougie covers up that he has diabetes. His poor health contributed to his business failure.
2. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives for the Christmas holidays. Desperate for money to start her business, Minette begs Eustacia to be her partner.
3. When their daughter, Jade, comes home from university on Christmas break, Minette tells her there’s no more money for tuition.
4. It’s a Christmas story, with a family reunion.
Consider this:
"Gone with the Wind" had one major plot and one subplot.
Main plot: Scarlet O’Hara survives the American Civil War and Reconstruction.
Subplot: She learns that men are real people, not toys.
Everything in the 1,024 pages relates to those two themes.
"Devil at the Dinner Table," with three major plots, and four subplots is an ambitious—and probably unachievable—goal. I need to winnow it down substantially, but where to start?
The main plot in a mystery is a given: solving the murder. All right, so I'm going to choose that one major plot as the focus of the book.
Words such as “and,” “but,” and complex sentence constructions, usually indicate multiple, separate subplots. Breaking down the Devil’s list, uncovers double the number of original subplots:
1. Minette discovers that Dougie’s business is almost bankrupt.
2. She starts her own business to try to save it.
3. Minette learns that Dougie has been covering up that he’s been diagnosed with diabetes.
4. Part of the reason the business is failing is his poor health.
5. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives unexpectedly to spend Christmas with them.
6. In order to have enough money to start her own business, Minette has to ask Eustacia to be her partner.
7. When Jade comes home from university on Christmas break, Minette has to tell her there isn’t enough money for her to finish her engineering degree.
8. It’s a Christmas story, with a family reunion.
Trust me, eight subplots are too many. Ways to winnow down subplots include determining the difference between an incident and a subplot; refusing to two-step in plot development, and focusing only on the subplots that relate directly to the main plots.
An incident is one emotionally-charged event, which may be crucial to the story, but the reader doesn’t follow it as a thread throughout the book. Incidents both turn the current plot, and sow seeds for future books. Bonnie Blue Butler’s death was in an incident, not a subplot.
Jade learning there is no money her tuition is an incident, rather than a subplot. Jade can either be emotionally supportive to her parents, or flounce out in heated anger. In either case, in a series, no resolution is needed in this book. Let the unanswered question of what will Jade do now hang there, and pick it up in the next book.
On the other hand, a subplot runs through a book, like a ripple of pink fabric running through an otherwise blue-and-green quilt. Eustacia coming for Christmas makes a nice accent subplot, used for comic relief.
Two-stepping belongs on the dance floor, not in subplots. Minette learns that Dougie’s business is failing, AND convinces Eustacia to be her partner, AND founds her own business is not only two-stepping, it’s three-stepping. Each element could be the focus of one book. It’s important to bring series characters along, using baby steps. Finding out the business is in trouble is enough for one book. Stay there. Dive deep into all the implications of a fifty-something wife, with no job skills, learning her financial security just disappeared. Look at it from different angles. Wring it out for all it is worth. Let it fill the entire book.
Finally, focus only on subplots, which relate directly to the main plots. How much does Dougie’s diabetes contribute to the story? More important, how much of the book’s word budget will the author spend on visits to the doctor, Minette learning to cook diabetic meals, conflicts between Minette and Dougie about is he or isn’t he doing what the doctor said, and the inevitable diabetic reaction at the climax of the book. Could it be a subplot best put away until a later book?
Books set in December can’t help but be Christmas stories, but adding a family reunion on top of everything else is over the top. However, Eustacia’s visit can tie that subplot firmly back into existing material. So ditch the family reunion.
A revised, and manageable, plot list for "Devil at the Dinner Table" might look like this.
Main plots:
1. When her husband is accused of murder, Minette Shaw finds the real murderer.
Subplots:
1. Minette discovers that the family business is almost bankrupt, and, at age fifty-four, learns that her future financial security has disappeared.
2. Minette’s cousin-from-hell, Eustacia, arrives unexpectedly to spend the Christmas season.
That's a nice, managable list. Now all I have to do now is write the book.
Monday, April 2, 2007
The Creativity Zoo
by Julia Buckley
I've always loved going to the zoo, because I think it feeds my writer's creativity. After all, who could conceive of something like a giraffe? A tapir? A penguin? If we had never seen one, would we really believe in it if we read about it in a book?
I think that too often I may discard an idea because people might not find it realistic enough. There was always a rule in my writer's group that you weren't allowed to say, in defense of a weird story detail, "But this really happened to me!" If enough members of the group found it unrealistic, it had to go. After all, the reader needs a sense of authenticity.
But what about those zoo animals? They are amazing creations, totally unexpected living things that show us the wild diversity of nature and the imagination of God. I often feel that my own imagination needs a jump start, that I've stagnated a bit in terms of creative vision.
Therefore, a visit to the zoo tends to remind me that any wild, glorious thought I have which seems too much out of the bounds of authenticity shouldn't immediately be chucked away. Harry Potter would never have been written if J.K. Rowling feared that some of her details might seem odd. Of course they're odd--delightfully odd! She was brilliant to create them, but brave to put them out there before the public. And of course her creative risk paid off, because although she created an alternate world and some brand new lingo, she did it with enough style and talent that people couldn't wait to be admitted to that world, again and again.
Soon I'll be on spring break, and one task on the vacation agenda is a visit to Brookfield Zoo. I'm hoping that as always it will get my creative juices flowing, not only because of all the wonderful animals I'll see in a rich visual display, but because of the human animals on the other side of the fence--who also bear watching and provide wonderful character ideas. :)
I've always loved going to the zoo, because I think it feeds my writer's creativity. After all, who could conceive of something like a giraffe? A tapir? A penguin? If we had never seen one, would we really believe in it if we read about it in a book?I think that too often I may discard an idea because people might not find it realistic enough. There was always a rule in my writer's group that you weren't allowed to say, in defense of a weird story detail, "But this really happened to me!" If enough members of the group found it unrealistic, it had to go. After all, the reader needs a sense of authenticity.
But what about those zoo animals? They are amazing creations, totally unexpected living things that show us the wild diversity of nature and the imagination of God. I often feel that my own imagination needs a jump start, that I've stagnated a bit in terms of creative vision.
Therefore, a visit to the zoo tends to remind me that any wild, glorious thought I have which seems too much out of the bounds of authenticity shouldn't immediately be chucked away. Harry Potter would never have been written if J.K. Rowling feared that some of her details might seem odd. Of course they're odd--delightfully odd! She was brilliant to create them, but brave to put them out there before the public. And of course her creative risk paid off, because although she created an alternate world and some brand new lingo, she did it with enough style and talent that people couldn't wait to be admitted to that world, again and again.
Soon I'll be on spring break, and one task on the vacation agenda is a visit to Brookfield Zoo. I'm hoping that as always it will get my creative juices flowing, not only because of all the wonderful animals I'll see in a rich visual display, but because of the human animals on the other side of the fence--who also bear watching and provide wonderful character ideas. :)
Saturday, March 31, 2007
What Do You Know?
Ken Isaacson (Guest Blogger)
They say you should write what you know. There’s no shortage of lawyers-turned-authors, and most of them do just that. I guess, in that regard, I’m no different—but only to a degree. My first novel, Silent Counsel, is a legal thriller (imagine that!), but I can’t say that it draws on real-life experiences taken from my twenty-five-plus years of legal practice. I’m just a simple corporate counsel, working in-house at a major transportation company. I haven’t defended murderers, rapists, thieves, or the like, and although I’ve handled matters that evoke a “jeez, you could write a book about it” feeling because of their quirks, I don’t know that they would be books that anyone would be particularly interested in reading. So, while I do write about what I know—the law—I don’t necessarily write about what I do.
Take Silent Counsel. It asks you to suppose the unimaginable: What if your child was killed in a hit-and-run, and the one person who knew the driver’s identity—his lawyer—didn’t have to tell you his name because the court held it was privileged information? A story about a mother who will go to any length to find out who’s responsible for the death of her six-year-old son, Silent Counsel shows the very real impact that the attorney-client privilege can have on the people it touches—both the lawyer who’s bound to remain silent, and the person who wants to know what the lawyer is keeping secret.
Now, I’ve never been in a situation that comes even close to what the characters in Silent Counsel encounter—my experience with the attorney-client privilege is limited to trying to avoid turning over an embarrassing document to opposing counsel in a contract dispute—you know, the memo from the president of the company that says “Damn it, I know it’s wrong. Do it anyway.” But as a lawyer, I write for a living, and I guess there are cynics who’d even say that lawyers write fiction for a living. So I can use my knowledge of the law and spin a damn good yarn about the kind of privileged information that’s worth reading about.
If I think hard enough, I can remember maybe a handful of actual cases I’ve handled that, if not interesting enough to actually write about, at least make good party talk. Like the fellow I represented back in the 80s who had bought a converted loft building in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, only to find out that one of the tenants was operating a sadomasochistic sex club in her rented “office.” Believe it or not, it wasn’t easy finding a legal basis for booting this fine establishment out. I had to rely on a statute that dated back to the 1800s, which forbade the use of rented premises as “a bawdy house, or place of assignation for lewd persons.” After checking the dictionary for “bawdy” and “assignation” (I had a pretty good idea what “lewd” meant), I decided that was the way to go. Preparing for the trial of that eviction proceeding was interesting—just reading the investigator’s report on his, uh, undercover visit to the club was an eye-opener. And the trial itself? The usually deserted courtroom (landlord-tenant court isn’t too high on the professional court-watcher’s “must see” list) quickly filled up minutes after the investigator took the stand, as word of his testimony—and a description of what he’d observed—filtered through the courthouse. We prevailed, and I attended the eviction with the city marshal. I still have a souvenir on my desk: a pair of shackles and chains left behind by the club owners. When I was practicing in a law firm, I told visitors that that was how the partners ensured that billable hours were maximized.
Then there was the time I had to repossess a fleet of jumbo jets from an international airline because of missed lease payments. I’d had plenty of experience repossessing bulldozers, backhoes, and other assorted construction equipment, and that had been relatively easy: Start a lawsuit, obtain a Writ of Replevin, tell the Sheriff where he could find the piece, and send him to haul it away. What could be difficult about taking back a couple of airplanes? Same concept, bigger prize. But it’s all in the execution. A bulldozer, you can hide in big garage. You’d think it would be a mite difficult to hide a bunch of jumbo jets, huh? Can you say “risk of flight”? Luckily, I was able to negotiate a settlement before I had to rent hangar space (once you nab ‘em, you gotta store ‘em somewhere), hire a team of qualified pilots (someone’s gotta at least taxi ‘em from where they’re seized over to the hangar), and dispatch a posse of U.S. Marshals to oversee the operation (someone’s gotta lay down the law). Sometimes, the best cases get settled before the good stuff starts.
Now that I think about it, maybe there is the germ of an idea or two lurking in the workaday stuff that a boring corporate attorney deals with. I guess whoever said you should write what you know knew what she was talking about. To that, I’d just add: “Write even what you didn’t realize you know!”
© 2007 by Ken Isaacson
Ken's legal thriller, Silent Counsel, will be out in September 2007.
They say you should write what you know. There’s no shortage of lawyers-turned-authors, and most of them do just that. I guess, in that regard, I’m no different—but only to a degree. My first novel, Silent Counsel, is a legal thriller (imagine that!), but I can’t say that it draws on real-life experiences taken from my twenty-five-plus years of legal practice. I’m just a simple corporate counsel, working in-house at a major transportation company. I haven’t defended murderers, rapists, thieves, or the like, and although I’ve handled matters that evoke a “jeez, you could write a book about it” feeling because of their quirks, I don’t know that they would be books that anyone would be particularly interested in reading. So, while I do write about what I know—the law—I don’t necessarily write about what I do.
Take Silent Counsel. It asks you to suppose the unimaginable: What if your child was killed in a hit-and-run, and the one person who knew the driver’s identity—his lawyer—didn’t have to tell you his name because the court held it was privileged information? A story about a mother who will go to any length to find out who’s responsible for the death of her six-year-old son, Silent Counsel shows the very real impact that the attorney-client privilege can have on the people it touches—both the lawyer who’s bound to remain silent, and the person who wants to know what the lawyer is keeping secret.
Now, I’ve never been in a situation that comes even close to what the characters in Silent Counsel encounter—my experience with the attorney-client privilege is limited to trying to avoid turning over an embarrassing document to opposing counsel in a contract dispute—you know, the memo from the president of the company that says “Damn it, I know it’s wrong. Do it anyway.” But as a lawyer, I write for a living, and I guess there are cynics who’d even say that lawyers write fiction for a living. So I can use my knowledge of the law and spin a damn good yarn about the kind of privileged information that’s worth reading about.
If I think hard enough, I can remember maybe a handful of actual cases I’ve handled that, if not interesting enough to actually write about, at least make good party talk. Like the fellow I represented back in the 80s who had bought a converted loft building in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, only to find out that one of the tenants was operating a sadomasochistic sex club in her rented “office.” Believe it or not, it wasn’t easy finding a legal basis for booting this fine establishment out. I had to rely on a statute that dated back to the 1800s, which forbade the use of rented premises as “a bawdy house, or place of assignation for lewd persons.” After checking the dictionary for “bawdy” and “assignation” (I had a pretty good idea what “lewd” meant), I decided that was the way to go. Preparing for the trial of that eviction proceeding was interesting—just reading the investigator’s report on his, uh, undercover visit to the club was an eye-opener. And the trial itself? The usually deserted courtroom (landlord-tenant court isn’t too high on the professional court-watcher’s “must see” list) quickly filled up minutes after the investigator took the stand, as word of his testimony—and a description of what he’d observed—filtered through the courthouse. We prevailed, and I attended the eviction with the city marshal. I still have a souvenir on my desk: a pair of shackles and chains left behind by the club owners. When I was practicing in a law firm, I told visitors that that was how the partners ensured that billable hours were maximized.
Then there was the time I had to repossess a fleet of jumbo jets from an international airline because of missed lease payments. I’d had plenty of experience repossessing bulldozers, backhoes, and other assorted construction equipment, and that had been relatively easy: Start a lawsuit, obtain a Writ of Replevin, tell the Sheriff where he could find the piece, and send him to haul it away. What could be difficult about taking back a couple of airplanes? Same concept, bigger prize. But it’s all in the execution. A bulldozer, you can hide in big garage. You’d think it would be a mite difficult to hide a bunch of jumbo jets, huh? Can you say “risk of flight”? Luckily, I was able to negotiate a settlement before I had to rent hangar space (once you nab ‘em, you gotta store ‘em somewhere), hire a team of qualified pilots (someone’s gotta at least taxi ‘em from where they’re seized over to the hangar), and dispatch a posse of U.S. Marshals to oversee the operation (someone’s gotta lay down the law). Sometimes, the best cases get settled before the good stuff starts.
Now that I think about it, maybe there is the germ of an idea or two lurking in the workaday stuff that a boring corporate attorney deals with. I guess whoever said you should write what you know knew what she was talking about. To that, I’d just add: “Write even what you didn’t realize you know!”
© 2007 by Ken Isaacson
Ken's legal thriller, Silent Counsel, will be out in September 2007.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Actor Adam Beach, The Internet, and Microwave Ovens...
Posted By Lonnie Cruse
I grew up in the Fifties, so who woulda thought telephones would become cordless (ours was tied to a cord in the dining room and my dad could hear every single word I said to my boyfriend, sigh) or that you could talk to someone while shopping at Wal-Mart? For that matter, who would have thought of Wal-Mart? Or microwave ovens that heat our coffee in one minute (or two, depending on your tolerance for heat?) And who would have thought we'd have a box in our house that would connect us to the Internet, and from there, to the entire world? Boggles MY mind.
When we moved to Metropolis, IL from Brookport, (exchanging a satellite dish the size of Wyoming for one that fit on the back wall of the house) we soon discovered a new (to us) channel called Trio, and a new drama, NORTH OF 60 about a Native American town located above the 60th parallel in Canada. Trio aired a lot of Canadian shows, but NORTH OF 60 quickly became a favorite with us and apparently with lots of others in the U.S. Someone formed a Yahoo discussion group for the show, which I moderated for a while and still belong to, and despite the fact that Trio is now defunct and NORTH OF 60 is no longer in re-runs in this country (though it is in Canada, lucky them) the discussion list is still going strong with probably 400 members, and one of the moderators, Patty Winter, has a website for the show. Which is an indication of how terrific the show was, still popular, though out of production, except for the occasional movie based on the plots line. Check Patty's website at: http://www.wintertime.com/OH/nof60.html
Which brings me to Adam Beach, and eventually the Internet. Stay with me. Adam Beach appeared in NORTH OF 60 along about episode 15 and appeared in several episodes as a young, homeless, native male who becomes friends with a cast regular. I've seen just about all of Adam Beach's movies and for my money, NORTH OF 60 will always be one of his finest performances, not that the others weren't great as well. You might have seen him in SMOKE SIGNALS, DANCE ME OUTSIDE, JOE DIRT, or WINDTALKERS. If you haven't, you might want to rent them. And, I recently learned on the North of 60 discussion list that Adam's about to become a regular on Law and Order SVU! Wahhoooo! Okay, back to the Internet.
One of the Five Star authors recently set up a page on MySpace and encouraged the rest of us to do the same. I set up a page, linked to the group, and began receiving requests from others to "join my circle of friends." One of the requests came from someone I've e-chatted with from Norway several years ago, and I gladly renewed the friendship. When I checked HER page, there was Adam Beach, her friend. Shriek! He's her friend! After I stopped hyperventilating, I clicked into his page, and his wife, Tara Mason's page, and sent a friend request. I am now one of Adam Beach's over 2,000 friends, but I assure you, he likes me the best. Really.
Where was I? The Internet. We all gripe about it. I generally spend a minimum of 2-3 hours on the Net per day, answering e-mails, reading/posting to blogs, updating spaces where I have a page, and maybe 6-8 hours if I'm updating my own website or promoting my books. Whew. Time spent away from writing, from family, from local friends, etc. I do jump up to stretch and toss a load of laundry from washer to dryer, but that doesn't add much excitement to my life.
But if not for the Internet, I doubt I'd have become a published writer. My first short stories were published because I submitted them to Future's Magazine via the Internet and later lovingly held the printed magazine in my hands. I found my first writers' group via the Net (the nearest "live" group to me is over an hour away and they meet at night. I'd have to travel a very deserted, scary road, so I rarely make meetings.) I found a great critique group on the Net who help me polish my work. I found my first and second publishers on the Net. And I promote my books here, and chat with my readers. What's not to love?
The Internet has been one of the biggest helps to reaching my dream of publication, and staying there, and it's introduced me to some of my writing heroes, like Bill Crider, Charlaine Harris, Anne Perry (met her in person at a conference I learned about on the Net) Donna Andrews, and many more. And I've made good friends like my fellow Poe sisters and my SINC friends. Gotta love it. Well worth the cost (I'm on sloooow dial-up, $19.95 per month, and when I ask the phone company about high speed, and they find out I'm at the Northeast end of Metropolis, they snicker. Never mind that folks at the other end of town have SEVERAL options for high speed and I have to borrow a friend's computer and Internet access if I want to upload anything over 100K, sigh. Maybe one of these days. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy the blogging, my friends, and meeting heroes.
And if you'd like to see my page on MySpace, check it out at: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=156162434 (might have to copy and paste that puppy, it's pretty long.) While you're there, check out my new bud, Adam Beach. Sigh. Thanks for stopping by HERE! We appreciate all of our blogger readers!
I grew up in the Fifties, so who woulda thought telephones would become cordless (ours was tied to a cord in the dining room and my dad could hear every single word I said to my boyfriend, sigh) or that you could talk to someone while shopping at Wal-Mart? For that matter, who would have thought of Wal-Mart? Or microwave ovens that heat our coffee in one minute (or two, depending on your tolerance for heat?) And who would have thought we'd have a box in our house that would connect us to the Internet, and from there, to the entire world? Boggles MY mind.
When we moved to Metropolis, IL from Brookport, (exchanging a satellite dish the size of Wyoming for one that fit on the back wall of the house) we soon discovered a new (to us) channel called Trio, and a new drama, NORTH OF 60 about a Native American town located above the 60th parallel in Canada. Trio aired a lot of Canadian shows, but NORTH OF 60 quickly became a favorite with us and apparently with lots of others in the U.S. Someone formed a Yahoo discussion group for the show, which I moderated for a while and still belong to, and despite the fact that Trio is now defunct and NORTH OF 60 is no longer in re-runs in this country (though it is in Canada, lucky them) the discussion list is still going strong with probably 400 members, and one of the moderators, Patty Winter, has a website for the show. Which is an indication of how terrific the show was, still popular, though out of production, except for the occasional movie based on the plots line. Check Patty's website at: http://www.wintertime.com/OH/nof60.html
Which brings me to Adam Beach, and eventually the Internet. Stay with me. Adam Beach appeared in NORTH OF 60 along about episode 15 and appeared in several episodes as a young, homeless, native male who becomes friends with a cast regular. I've seen just about all of Adam Beach's movies and for my money, NORTH OF 60 will always be one of his finest performances, not that the others weren't great as well. You might have seen him in SMOKE SIGNALS, DANCE ME OUTSIDE, JOE DIRT, or WINDTALKERS. If you haven't, you might want to rent them. And, I recently learned on the North of 60 discussion list that Adam's about to become a regular on Law and Order SVU! Wahhoooo! Okay, back to the Internet.
One of the Five Star authors recently set up a page on MySpace and encouraged the rest of us to do the same. I set up a page, linked to the group, and began receiving requests from others to "join my circle of friends." One of the requests came from someone I've e-chatted with from Norway several years ago, and I gladly renewed the friendship. When I checked HER page, there was Adam Beach, her friend. Shriek! He's her friend! After I stopped hyperventilating, I clicked into his page, and his wife, Tara Mason's page, and sent a friend request. I am now one of Adam Beach's over 2,000 friends, but I assure you, he likes me the best. Really.
Where was I? The Internet. We all gripe about it. I generally spend a minimum of 2-3 hours on the Net per day, answering e-mails, reading/posting to blogs, updating spaces where I have a page, and maybe 6-8 hours if I'm updating my own website or promoting my books. Whew. Time spent away from writing, from family, from local friends, etc. I do jump up to stretch and toss a load of laundry from washer to dryer, but that doesn't add much excitement to my life.
But if not for the Internet, I doubt I'd have become a published writer. My first short stories were published because I submitted them to Future's Magazine via the Internet and later lovingly held the printed magazine in my hands. I found my first writers' group via the Net (the nearest "live" group to me is over an hour away and they meet at night. I'd have to travel a very deserted, scary road, so I rarely make meetings.) I found a great critique group on the Net who help me polish my work. I found my first and second publishers on the Net. And I promote my books here, and chat with my readers. What's not to love?
The Internet has been one of the biggest helps to reaching my dream of publication, and staying there, and it's introduced me to some of my writing heroes, like Bill Crider, Charlaine Harris, Anne Perry (met her in person at a conference I learned about on the Net) Donna Andrews, and many more. And I've made good friends like my fellow Poe sisters and my SINC friends. Gotta love it. Well worth the cost (I'm on sloooow dial-up, $19.95 per month, and when I ask the phone company about high speed, and they find out I'm at the Northeast end of Metropolis, they snicker. Never mind that folks at the other end of town have SEVERAL options for high speed and I have to borrow a friend's computer and Internet access if I want to upload anything over 100K, sigh. Maybe one of these days. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy the blogging, my friends, and meeting heroes.
And if you'd like to see my page on MySpace, check it out at: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=156162434 (might have to copy and paste that puppy, it's pretty long.) While you're there, check out my new bud, Adam Beach. Sigh. Thanks for stopping by HERE! We appreciate all of our blogger readers!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Interview with Carolyn Hart
Interviewer: Elizabeth Zelvin
When and how did you decide to become a writer?
I was eleven when I decided I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I worked on school papers in junior and senior high school and majored in journalism at the University of Oklahoma. I had a trench coat and smoked Chesterfields and was sure I would be the next Maggie Higgins (a famed war correspondent for The Herald Trib). I still have a trench coat. I quit smoking (thankfully) 37 years ago. I met a young law student on a student trip to Europe and that changed the course of my life. After we married and started a family, I decided to write fiction and I’ve never looked back. Or not often. My passion for reporting resulted many years later in my creating a retired reporter protagonist who had the career I thought would be mine.
When did you first get paid for writing?
During college, I worked on the Oklahoma Daily which paid student reporters. My first job beyond the University was as a feature writer for The Norman Transcript in Norman, OK.
You’ve written 17 books in the Death in Demand series about bookstore owner Annie Darling and her husband Max. Did you have any idea when you started that Annie would have this long a run?
Heavens, no. I didn’t know I was starting a series. When the ms. sold, the editor said, "This is the first in a series?" I quickly said, "Yes, of course."
Annie and Max are very happily married. Did you take their love story from life?
My decision to portray a happy relationship was deliberate. At the time I wrote Death on Demand, most women in mysteries either had no relationship or the relationship was dysfunctional. From my own life experience, I knew it didn’t have to be this way. I wanted two characters who loved and respected each other. My own marriage was fun when it began and we are still having fun.
How has Annie developed in the course of the series? Does she keep on growing? Does she ever surprise you?
Over time I’ve come to a clearer sense of Annie and all the characters. Annie is cheerful and steadfast, honorable and eager, determined and resolute, kind and caring. This has been true from the first, but I now know that she has moments of uncertainty. She’s learned that life is complex and human passions often both appealing and heartbreaking.
What prompted you to begin your second series, about retired newspaperwoman Henrie O?
I wrote a short story about Henrie O. It came across my then editor’s desk and she immediately requested a series. Henrie O much more reflects my personality than Annie. Annie is patterned after my daughter Sarah although Sarah is extremely equable. For purposes of fiction, I gave Annie a quick temper. Henrie O is taller, thinner, smarter, and braver than I, but her attitudes reflect mine.
You’ve said that, like Henrie O, you’ve worked for a newspaper. Have you ever owned a bookstore? Besides writing, what jobs have you had?
I simply love going to bookstores, especially mystery bookstores. Death on Demand was inspired by Murder by the Book in Houston, TX. During and after college, I worked for The Transcript, then in public relations for the University of Oklahoma while my husband was in law school. Later, I was a stay at home mother and wrote fiction. I taught professional writing at OU from 1982-85. Otherwise, I have been a full time writer.
Do you research your books, and if so, how?
I have a bookcase filled with books about South Carolina. Each book poses its own demands. I did a great deal of research for Death on the River Walk, which included visiting San Antonio. The new book, Set Sail for Murder, is based on a Baltic cruise Phil and I took in 2004.
How do you manage to juggle your two series characters and their worlds?
Each world is distinct in my mind. When I go to Death on Demand or join Henrie O in a new locale, I am immediately in that particular world.
Do you work on more than one manuscript at a time?
Only in the sense of occasionally doing revisions on one book while engaged in writing another. Otherwise, I write them one at a time.
Have you ever lost track or gotten them mixed up?
No. I sometimes get confused about which books I’ve finished and in what order. Set Sail for Murder will be out April 10, but I have already turned in two books for 2008.
Do you have a favorite, or do you love your protagonists equally?
I enjoy every book I write.
You’ve been awarded three Agathas for Best Novel and were nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for your stand-alone novel, Letter from Home. What did these awards mean to you?
The Agathas are such a wonderful honor from readers who treasure traditional mysteries.
Did winning the first one change anything for you?
Absolutely. It encouraged me enormously.
How did you feel about the Pulitzer nomination? Did it seem different from the mystery-specific awards to you?
The Pulitzer nomination is special because it was an affirmation from home for my book about home. The nomination was made by the Oklahoma Center for Poets and Writers and Letter from Home is my book about Oklahoma. Yes, it was a great honor.
What made you decide to write Letter from Home?
Oddly, a lousy movie was the impetus. I saw Pearl Harbor a few years ago. It was not only silly but supremely off the mark in reflecting the mores of the time. I wanted to write a book that gave a true flavor of the home front in the 1940s.
Was it your only stand-alone?
I had some extra time between deadlines when I decided to write Letter from Home. At the moment, I am committed to write the Death on Demand and Henrie O series and I am launching a new series in 2008 so I rather doubt I will do any more stand-alones.
Where, when, and how do you write? Do you have any rituals attached to writing?
I have an office behind my house in space once used by a previous resident for making pottery. It contains two computers, three desks, a bookcase, and a filing cabinet. I am a morning person so I usually start about eight. If I am having a productive day, I may work until four in the afternoon. Often I work in the morning, then walk or run errands in the afternoon. No rituals. I am a restless person so I pop up often. If I’m not making progress, I’ll take a walk and think and usually the story will begin to move again in my mind.
Do you plan or outline your plots or write "into the mist"?
I love "into the mist." I do not outline. When I start a book, I know the protagonist, the victim, the identity of the murderer, the motive, and I have a working title. The choice of the protagonist determines the tone and background. The choice of the victim provides the cast of characters. Those involved in the victim’s life will be suspects after the death. I have to know the murderer because the motive has to be strong enough to justify the crime. A working title gives me a sense of the book.
How have you managed to stay so fresh in your long career?
I consider that a great compliment. Personalities determine stories. The marvelous truth is that every single person we ever meet is unique. Everyone we know is fascinating if we truly know them. Whatever the circumstances of a book, it is the individuality of those involved that give the story, always, a fresh flavor.
Can you tell us something about Set Sail for Murder, the book that’s just coming out?
Set Sail for Murder is the latest in the series featuring Henrie O, a retired newspaper reporter. I always think of Henrie O as having a talent for trouble and a taste for adventure. In this one, Henrie O responds to a former lover’s call for help. He persuades her to join him, his rich wife, and her step-children to cruise the Baltic on a small luxury liner. Henrie O’s presence is supposed to defuse the family tension, but one of their fellow travelers has murder in mind.
At this year’s Malice Domestic, you’ll receive a Lifetime Achievement award and be interviewed by Nancy Pickard. Are you looking forward to that?
Nancy and I have been having fun at mystery gatherings since 1989. We know each other well. We laugh a lot. I am exceedingly fortunate because she is one of the best interviewers I’ve ever known, which is no surprise for a graduate of the University of Missouri School of Journalism. She’ll keep our visit light and lively.
What’s next for Carolyn Hart?
The 18th in the Death on Demand series will be published in winter 2008. My working title was Fox in the Night. However, we are still considering titles. A possible choice is Murder in the Fog. Max is trying to put behind him the events in Dead Days of Summer, when a clever killer tabbed Max to be the fall guy. He turns down an appeal for help from a woman who is then found dead. The packet she claims to have hidden may be connected to a million dollar coin theft. Annie puts her life at risk by figuring out the secret.
You said you’d turned in two books for 2008 already. What’s the second?
Ghost at Work, a new series featuring the late Bailey Ruth Raeburn of Adelaide, OK, debuts in fall 2008. An impetuous redheaded ghost, Bailey Ruth returns to earth to help someone in trouble. She moves a body, investigates a murder, saves a marriage, prevents a suicide, liberates a neglected dog, inadvertently destroys the police computer system, and - in a fiery finale - rescues a child who saw too much.
Bailey Ruth sounds like a lot of fun. Did you enjoy starting a new series?
I loved writing Ghost at Work. I hope readers will enjoy it.
And soon I need to start a new book ….
When and how did you decide to become a writer?
I was eleven when I decided I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I worked on school papers in junior and senior high school and majored in journalism at the University of Oklahoma. I had a trench coat and smoked Chesterfields and was sure I would be the next Maggie Higgins (a famed war correspondent for The Herald Trib). I still have a trench coat. I quit smoking (thankfully) 37 years ago. I met a young law student on a student trip to Europe and that changed the course of my life. After we married and started a family, I decided to write fiction and I’ve never looked back. Or not often. My passion for reporting resulted many years later in my creating a retired reporter protagonist who had the career I thought would be mine.
When did you first get paid for writing?
During college, I worked on the Oklahoma Daily which paid student reporters. My first job beyond the University was as a feature writer for The Norman Transcript in Norman, OK.
You’ve written 17 books in the Death in Demand series about bookstore owner Annie Darling and her husband Max. Did you have any idea when you started that Annie would have this long a run?
Heavens, no. I didn’t know I was starting a series. When the ms. sold, the editor said, "This is the first in a series?" I quickly said, "Yes, of course."
Annie and Max are very happily married. Did you take their love story from life?
My decision to portray a happy relationship was deliberate. At the time I wrote Death on Demand, most women in mysteries either had no relationship or the relationship was dysfunctional. From my own life experience, I knew it didn’t have to be this way. I wanted two characters who loved and respected each other. My own marriage was fun when it began and we are still having fun.
How has Annie developed in the course of the series? Does she keep on growing? Does she ever surprise you?
Over time I’ve come to a clearer sense of Annie and all the characters. Annie is cheerful and steadfast, honorable and eager, determined and resolute, kind and caring. This has been true from the first, but I now know that she has moments of uncertainty. She’s learned that life is complex and human passions often both appealing and heartbreaking.
What prompted you to begin your second series, about retired newspaperwoman Henrie O?
I wrote a short story about Henrie O. It came across my then editor’s desk and she immediately requested a series. Henrie O much more reflects my personality than Annie. Annie is patterned after my daughter Sarah although Sarah is extremely equable. For purposes of fiction, I gave Annie a quick temper. Henrie O is taller, thinner, smarter, and braver than I, but her attitudes reflect mine.
You’ve said that, like Henrie O, you’ve worked for a newspaper. Have you ever owned a bookstore? Besides writing, what jobs have you had?
I simply love going to bookstores, especially mystery bookstores. Death on Demand was inspired by Murder by the Book in Houston, TX. During and after college, I worked for The Transcript, then in public relations for the University of Oklahoma while my husband was in law school. Later, I was a stay at home mother and wrote fiction. I taught professional writing at OU from 1982-85. Otherwise, I have been a full time writer.
Do you research your books, and if so, how?
I have a bookcase filled with books about South Carolina. Each book poses its own demands. I did a great deal of research for Death on the River Walk, which included visiting San Antonio. The new book, Set Sail for Murder, is based on a Baltic cruise Phil and I took in 2004.
How do you manage to juggle your two series characters and their worlds?
Each world is distinct in my mind. When I go to Death on Demand or join Henrie O in a new locale, I am immediately in that particular world.
Do you work on more than one manuscript at a time?
Only in the sense of occasionally doing revisions on one book while engaged in writing another. Otherwise, I write them one at a time.
Have you ever lost track or gotten them mixed up?
No. I sometimes get confused about which books I’ve finished and in what order. Set Sail for Murder will be out April 10, but I have already turned in two books for 2008.
Do you have a favorite, or do you love your protagonists equally?
I enjoy every book I write.
You’ve been awarded three Agathas for Best Novel and were nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for your stand-alone novel, Letter from Home. What did these awards mean to you?
The Agathas are such a wonderful honor from readers who treasure traditional mysteries.
Did winning the first one change anything for you?
Absolutely. It encouraged me enormously.
How did you feel about the Pulitzer nomination? Did it seem different from the mystery-specific awards to you?
The Pulitzer nomination is special because it was an affirmation from home for my book about home. The nomination was made by the Oklahoma Center for Poets and Writers and Letter from Home is my book about Oklahoma. Yes, it was a great honor.
What made you decide to write Letter from Home?
Oddly, a lousy movie was the impetus. I saw Pearl Harbor a few years ago. It was not only silly but supremely off the mark in reflecting the mores of the time. I wanted to write a book that gave a true flavor of the home front in the 1940s.
Was it your only stand-alone?
I had some extra time between deadlines when I decided to write Letter from Home. At the moment, I am committed to write the Death on Demand and Henrie O series and I am launching a new series in 2008 so I rather doubt I will do any more stand-alones.
Where, when, and how do you write? Do you have any rituals attached to writing?
I have an office behind my house in space once used by a previous resident for making pottery. It contains two computers, three desks, a bookcase, and a filing cabinet. I am a morning person so I usually start about eight. If I am having a productive day, I may work until four in the afternoon. Often I work in the morning, then walk or run errands in the afternoon. No rituals. I am a restless person so I pop up often. If I’m not making progress, I’ll take a walk and think and usually the story will begin to move again in my mind.
Do you plan or outline your plots or write "into the mist"?
I love "into the mist." I do not outline. When I start a book, I know the protagonist, the victim, the identity of the murderer, the motive, and I have a working title. The choice of the protagonist determines the tone and background. The choice of the victim provides the cast of characters. Those involved in the victim’s life will be suspects after the death. I have to know the murderer because the motive has to be strong enough to justify the crime. A working title gives me a sense of the book.
How have you managed to stay so fresh in your long career?
I consider that a great compliment. Personalities determine stories. The marvelous truth is that every single person we ever meet is unique. Everyone we know is fascinating if we truly know them. Whatever the circumstances of a book, it is the individuality of those involved that give the story, always, a fresh flavor.
Can you tell us something about Set Sail for Murder, the book that’s just coming out?
Set Sail for Murder is the latest in the series featuring Henrie O, a retired newspaper reporter. I always think of Henrie O as having a talent for trouble and a taste for adventure. In this one, Henrie O responds to a former lover’s call for help. He persuades her to join him, his rich wife, and her step-children to cruise the Baltic on a small luxury liner. Henrie O’s presence is supposed to defuse the family tension, but one of their fellow travelers has murder in mind.
At this year’s Malice Domestic, you’ll receive a Lifetime Achievement award and be interviewed by Nancy Pickard. Are you looking forward to that?
Nancy and I have been having fun at mystery gatherings since 1989. We know each other well. We laugh a lot. I am exceedingly fortunate because she is one of the best interviewers I’ve ever known, which is no surprise for a graduate of the University of Missouri School of Journalism. She’ll keep our visit light and lively.
What’s next for Carolyn Hart?
The 18th in the Death on Demand series will be published in winter 2008. My working title was Fox in the Night. However, we are still considering titles. A possible choice is Murder in the Fog. Max is trying to put behind him the events in Dead Days of Summer, when a clever killer tabbed Max to be the fall guy. He turns down an appeal for help from a woman who is then found dead. The packet she claims to have hidden may be connected to a million dollar coin theft. Annie puts her life at risk by figuring out the secret.
You said you’d turned in two books for 2008 already. What’s the second?
Ghost at Work, a new series featuring the late Bailey Ruth Raeburn of Adelaide, OK, debuts in fall 2008. An impetuous redheaded ghost, Bailey Ruth returns to earth to help someone in trouble. She moves a body, investigates a murder, saves a marriage, prevents a suicide, liberates a neglected dog, inadvertently destroys the police computer system, and - in a fiery finale - rescues a child who saw too much.
Bailey Ruth sounds like a lot of fun. Did you enjoy starting a new series?
I loved writing Ghost at Work. I hope readers will enjoy it.
And soon I need to start a new book ….
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Riding the Review Rollercoaster
Sandra Parshall
Now, at last, I understand my urge to publish novels.
It’s not a deep-seated desire to communicate. It’s not a need to purge my imagination of all those crazy made-up people who keep running around in their made-up world, doing shocking things. It’s not, heaven knows, a belief that publication will make me rich and famous. (I was never naive enough to believe that.)
No, it’s masochism.
I just love putting myself at the mercy of strangers. I take a perverse pleasure in releasing my creative children into the world and waiting, wide-eyed and eager, for the world to shatter my fragile writerly ego with those awful-and-wonderful things called reviews.
As my husband and friends never tire of pointing out, I can ignore reams of praise if I find a single disapproving sentence buried within. So what if the reviewer loved the characters, found the setting evocative, enjoyed the plot right to the end? None of that counts. What counts is that she thought some of my phrasing was... gulp... clunky.
Despair! I will never write again. I will toss the computer out with the trash because I am clearly unworthy to be called an author.
But the Library Journal gave my second book, Disturbing the Dead, a starred review. That means something, doesn’t it? Certainly it does. I am worthy after all! I am an author.
But... but... A reviewer said DTD has too many characters. Omigod. Here is a person who believes that some of the characters I love so much shouldn’t even exist. How can I go on writing now that I know this? Where did I put the razor blades?
Okay, calm down, Sandy, and go reread the advance reviews. Oh, look, Kirkus -- Kirkus, so difficult to please! -- declared DTD “fast-paced, chilling, and compulsively readable.” Whew. My life and sanity saved again.
But... but... Yet another reviewer (they’re multiplying like wire hangers in a closet) thinks DTD has too many Melungeon characters and, furthermore, I made too many of them poor. Now I feel like an insensitive wretch who traffics in stereotypes. Forget the razor blades. Bullets are faster.
What one reviewer praises, another will criticize. And it’s the criticism, seldom the praise, that sticks in my mind. Every review is a source of nail-biting worry before I read it and possible agony afterward. “Don’t take it personally,” everybody says. Impossible advice for someone like me to follow. Everything is personal.
I would not dream of challenging reviewers, because they’re supposed to give their honest opinions and I’m grateful to them for telling readers about my books. In my rare lucid moments, I realize that my reviews have been mostly positive and I have nothing to complain about. I try not to care that at least two reviewers think Disturbing the Dead takes place in North Carolina, even though the characters never venture outside Virginia. (True to form, I’m convinced that misapprehension is somehow my fault.)
But I keep wondering exactly which characters I should have left out of the book and which phrases were clunky. Is it too late to recall every copy and rewrite?
I regard my work-in-progress with a cold eye. Maybe I should kill off Greg right now. Heck, maybe Greg should never have been born in the first place. And clunky writing? Oh, good grief, the book is filled with it. No one will ever want to read the thing. It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. Getting two books published was a fluke. It will never happen again.
But if, through some miracle, I do publish a third book, I’m not going to read the reviews. Not a one. Zip.
I am finished with this particular form of masochism.
Really.
Now, at last, I understand my urge to publish novels.
It’s not a deep-seated desire to communicate. It’s not a need to purge my imagination of all those crazy made-up people who keep running around in their made-up world, doing shocking things. It’s not, heaven knows, a belief that publication will make me rich and famous. (I was never naive enough to believe that.)
No, it’s masochism.
I just love putting myself at the mercy of strangers. I take a perverse pleasure in releasing my creative children into the world and waiting, wide-eyed and eager, for the world to shatter my fragile writerly ego with those awful-and-wonderful things called reviews.
As my husband and friends never tire of pointing out, I can ignore reams of praise if I find a single disapproving sentence buried within. So what if the reviewer loved the characters, found the setting evocative, enjoyed the plot right to the end? None of that counts. What counts is that she thought some of my phrasing was... gulp... clunky.
Despair! I will never write again. I will toss the computer out with the trash because I am clearly unworthy to be called an author.
But the Library Journal gave my second book, Disturbing the Dead, a starred review. That means something, doesn’t it? Certainly it does. I am worthy after all! I am an author.
But... but... A reviewer said DTD has too many characters. Omigod. Here is a person who believes that some of the characters I love so much shouldn’t even exist. How can I go on writing now that I know this? Where did I put the razor blades?
Okay, calm down, Sandy, and go reread the advance reviews. Oh, look, Kirkus -- Kirkus, so difficult to please! -- declared DTD “fast-paced, chilling, and compulsively readable.” Whew. My life and sanity saved again.
But... but... Yet another reviewer (they’re multiplying like wire hangers in a closet) thinks DTD has too many Melungeon characters and, furthermore, I made too many of them poor. Now I feel like an insensitive wretch who traffics in stereotypes. Forget the razor blades. Bullets are faster.
What one reviewer praises, another will criticize. And it’s the criticism, seldom the praise, that sticks in my mind. Every review is a source of nail-biting worry before I read it and possible agony afterward. “Don’t take it personally,” everybody says. Impossible advice for someone like me to follow. Everything is personal.
I would not dream of challenging reviewers, because they’re supposed to give their honest opinions and I’m grateful to them for telling readers about my books. In my rare lucid moments, I realize that my reviews have been mostly positive and I have nothing to complain about. I try not to care that at least two reviewers think Disturbing the Dead takes place in North Carolina, even though the characters never venture outside Virginia. (True to form, I’m convinced that misapprehension is somehow my fault.)
But I keep wondering exactly which characters I should have left out of the book and which phrases were clunky. Is it too late to recall every copy and rewrite?
I regard my work-in-progress with a cold eye. Maybe I should kill off Greg right now. Heck, maybe Greg should never have been born in the first place. And clunky writing? Oh, good grief, the book is filled with it. No one will ever want to read the thing. It’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. Getting two books published was a fluke. It will never happen again.
But if, through some miracle, I do publish a third book, I’m not going to read the reviews. Not a one. Zip.
I am finished with this particular form of masochism.
Really.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
What’s So Cozy About Murder?
Sharon Wildwind
My closest personal connection to murder is that a friend’s step-brother—whom I’d never met and who lived half-way across the country—was killed in a convenience store robbery. As far as I know, the killers were never caught. Even that distant half-relative-of-a-friend connection sent shock waves through me. It was incomprehensible that a human being could take a life for a few dollars and six cartons of cigarettes.
Many of the mysteries I read are in the cozy part of the spectrum. A few years ago, “the cozy” was renamed the traditional mystery by no less an august body than Malice Domestic, the uber-traditional-mystery convention. Murder may be traditional—check out the Bible, Beowulf, and Greek mythology—but what’s cozy about it?
I worry that murder has become a sales platform. If an author has a story involving quirky characters, talking animals, or a passionate interest, the way to sell it seems to be to wrap it around a murder and create yet another amateur detective. I recently read a mystery that a reviewer referred to as “adorable and charming.” I don’t want murder to be adorable and charming.
Having said this, let me also say that the myseries I write are in the cozy range. Granted, there is what the movie rating system refers to as “strong language,” but come on. My guys and gals are soldiers and ex-soldiers. They’re not the kind of people who will use “Pashaw,” when something untoward happens. Other than that, what I write falls solidly into at least one definition of the traditional mystery: a closed set of suspects, all of whom know one another, a minimal amount of on-stage gore and violence and, in the end, justice triumphs.
Justice triumphs is the strongest argument in favor of cozy mysteries. In the end, unlike in the case of my friend’s brother’s death, the killers are caught and punished. Sanity reasserts itself. At least, I tell myself that a good argument, but you know, using murder as a sales platform sometimes still bothers me.
Does it bother you?
My closest personal connection to murder is that a friend’s step-brother—whom I’d never met and who lived half-way across the country—was killed in a convenience store robbery. As far as I know, the killers were never caught. Even that distant half-relative-of-a-friend connection sent shock waves through me. It was incomprehensible that a human being could take a life for a few dollars and six cartons of cigarettes.
Many of the mysteries I read are in the cozy part of the spectrum. A few years ago, “the cozy” was renamed the traditional mystery by no less an august body than Malice Domestic, the uber-traditional-mystery convention. Murder may be traditional—check out the Bible, Beowulf, and Greek mythology—but what’s cozy about it?
I worry that murder has become a sales platform. If an author has a story involving quirky characters, talking animals, or a passionate interest, the way to sell it seems to be to wrap it around a murder and create yet another amateur detective. I recently read a mystery that a reviewer referred to as “adorable and charming.” I don’t want murder to be adorable and charming.
Having said this, let me also say that the myseries I write are in the cozy range. Granted, there is what the movie rating system refers to as “strong language,” but come on. My guys and gals are soldiers and ex-soldiers. They’re not the kind of people who will use “Pashaw,” when something untoward happens. Other than that, what I write falls solidly into at least one definition of the traditional mystery: a closed set of suspects, all of whom know one another, a minimal amount of on-stage gore and violence and, in the end, justice triumphs.Justice triumphs is the strongest argument in favor of cozy mysteries. In the end, unlike in the case of my friend’s brother’s death, the killers are caught and punished. Sanity reasserts itself. At least, I tell myself that a good argument, but you know, using murder as a sales platform sometimes still bothers me.
Does it bother you?
Monday, March 26, 2007
Spring Makes Everything New
by Julia Buckley
It's officially spring, and the weather in Chicagoland today was so sublime, with its alluring breezes and warm sun, that I wondered why I have yet to set a mystery novel in the spring.
My first book, THE DARK BACKWARD, is set in the fall, as is my first series mystery, MADELINE MANN, which comes out in August. I suppose I figured that the symbolism we attach to fall events works well with the idea of murder and death. Things die in autumn.
Because my first Madeline mystery happens in the fall, the next one is a natural progression, a couple of months later in Madeline's story, and therefore is set in winter. Lots of great mystery imagery in snow, too. The third, which is still waiting at the publisher (keep your fingers crossed), happens in the summer. Therefore, if I'm going in order, the next book will be in the fall again.
Somehow I skipped spring, and now that spring is here I am reminded anew of its wonders: the warmer air, still cool in frequent breezes; the scent of flowers which will suddenly be blooming everywhere; the chirping of birds who were silent all through the cold months.
In my own yard I inherited, years ago, another woman's garden treasures: lily-of-the-valley, peony bushes, tulips, day lilies, lilacs, and honeysuckle vines twining over the fence. They are wonderful, free gifts that came with our house and return every spring, and I enjoy strolling in my yard each morning before work (something I never care to do in any other season) so that I can breathe in the loveliness before I march off to school.
I'm not sure which flowers I've photographed here, but I snapped the shot last spring when we visited Brookfield Zoo.
In any case, I'm hoping to write a spring story soon. For you readers, do you like books to be set in a particular season?
Writers, what season do you set your novels in? Do you lean toward a particular time of year?
It's officially spring, and the weather in Chicagoland today was so sublime, with its alluring breezes and warm sun, that I wondered why I have yet to set a mystery novel in the spring.
My first book, THE DARK BACKWARD, is set in the fall, as is my first series mystery, MADELINE MANN, which comes out in August. I suppose I figured that the symbolism we attach to fall events works well with the idea of murder and death. Things die in autumn.
Because my first Madeline mystery happens in the fall, the next one is a natural progression, a couple of months later in Madeline's story, and therefore is set in winter. Lots of great mystery imagery in snow, too. The third, which is still waiting at the publisher (keep your fingers crossed), happens in the summer. Therefore, if I'm going in order, the next book will be in the fall again.
Somehow I skipped spring, and now that spring is here I am reminded anew of its wonders: the warmer air, still cool in frequent breezes; the scent of flowers which will suddenly be blooming everywhere; the chirping of birds who were silent all through the cold months.
In my own yard I inherited, years ago, another woman's garden treasures: lily-of-the-valley, peony bushes, tulips, day lilies, lilacs, and honeysuckle vines twining over the fence. They are wonderful, free gifts that came with our house and return every spring, and I enjoy strolling in my yard each morning before work (something I never care to do in any other season) so that I can breathe in the loveliness before I march off to school.
I'm not sure which flowers I've photographed here, but I snapped the shot last spring when we visited Brookfield Zoo.
In any case, I'm hoping to write a spring story soon. For you readers, do you like books to be set in a particular season?
Writers, what season do you set your novels in? Do you lean toward a particular time of year?
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