Julie Hyzy, this week's guest blogger . . .

By Julie Hyzy

I’m so eggcited to be here!


Did you watch IRON CHEF Sunday? In addition to celebrity chefs Bobby Flay, Emeril Lagasse, and Mario Batali, they featured Cristeta Comerford as one of their culinary combatants. Cristeta, as you may know, is the White House Eggsecutive Chef.

Er… I mean “Executive” ;-)

As you may also know, I write the White House Chef mystery series where Olivia (Ollie) Paras is executive chef. Although my Ollie is fictional, she shares a few of Cristeta’s characteristics: She’s short; she’s talented; and most importantly, she’s the first female to hold the top chef position

I’m eggstatically happy to talk about her today.

So why all the bad puns?

Let me apologize up front for my fondness for “egg” words. Do you remember Vincent Price when he played Egghead on the old Batman TV show? Once I get started I can’t help myself. I’m eggstraordinarily addicted to finding new ways to make funny “yolks.”

Sorry, sorry.

But there is a method to my madness. The third White House Chef Mystery, Eggsecutive Orders, just came out on Tuesday. And with it, this burst of eggstremely bad puns.

Okay, I’ll stop (for now).

If you’ve read State of the Onion, or Hail to the Chef, you’ve met Ollie and you know she’s always getting into big trouble. But when you work for the leader of the free world, deal with the Secret Service on a daily basis, dodge international assassins, and thwart bomb threats, there’s really no such thing as small trouble, is there?

Eggsecutive Orders is set during the week leading up to the annual White House Egg Roll and Ollie has to deal with the worst kind of dinner guest she’s ever encountered—a dead one. NSA head Carl Minkus did not die of natural causes, and now Ollie and her staff are banished from the White House kitchens until their innocence can be proven.

But that’s not all our intrepid chef is juggling right now. Ollie’s mom and grandmother have arrived from Chicago for an extended visit and a personal tour of our nation’s capital. Problem is they’re being followed wherever they go. Whether it’s a nosy reporter making very public accusations or one of the suspects in Carl Minkus’s death who has set his sights (romantically) on Ollie’s mom, there’s just no getting away. Ollie’s also supposed to be providing food — and 15,000 eggs — for the Easter Egg Roll on the South Lawn. But how can her team do that when they aren’t even allowed in the kitchen?

I had a lot of fun exploring Ollie’s relationships with her family and co-workers in Eggsecutive Orders, and Tom plays a bigger role in this installment than he did in Hail to the Chef. He’s got troubles of his own this time dealing with his Secret Service boss who will do everything in his power to break up Tom’s life with Ollie.

Why is it always so much fun to put characters in trouble? I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that I love dreaming up ways to make things worse for Ollie whenever I can. After watching the IRON CHEF Challenge on Sunday, I’ve got loads of new ideas for Book #5. (Book #4 has just been turned in.) The great thing about writing a series set at the White House is that headlines and real-life happenings keep plot ideas spinning in my brain.

Despite all the tension I try to create for Ollie the White House Chef books are considered “cozy” because there’s limited violence, no “adult situations,” and no bad language.

But here’s what I wonder…Does putting my Eggsecutive chef Ollie in hot water make this particular story “hard-boiled?”

I’ll bet you saw that one coming! Sorry! Couldn’t resist!

Thanks so much to Lonnie and all the wonderful writers on Poe’s Deadly Daughters for inviting me to guest on this eggceptional blog!

Research, how important is it if your setting is totally fictional?

By Lonnie Cruse

I recently read a mystery that drove me nuts, hence the forthcoming rant. In this mystery, a victim was killed just outside his/her own residence, shortly after another family member had also been murdered just a few days before, at another nearby location. Two murder victims from the same family in the space of a few days, both bodies found not many miles apart? Therefore it's a pretty safe bet that the two murders were connected, right? Yet in this mystery a surviving relative of both victims was allowed to continue living in that house and visitors were allowed to come and go at will, visiting and commiserating with the survivor. The house was NOT cordoned off by police during the investigation. Not any part of it. Sigh.

I realize that scenario might actually happen somewhere, though I really doubt it, based on my own research of the procedures investigators usually follow after a murder. The house would have been sealed off until said investigators had a chance to thoroughly go over everything both inside and outside of it to see if there were any clues to the identity of the murderer, and they'd remove anything considered vital to the case.

Sooo, what really jerked me out of the story and irked the daylights out of me happened when one visitor to the house--who, incidentally, was also investigating the murder as an amateur sleuth--entered the house, did a bit of snooping while the surviving family member was busy chatting with other visitors, and discovered (and I think even removed from the house) a very important piece of evidence. The amateur sleuth didn't even call the cops or turn said evidence over to them. And that annoying sound you hear is me grinding my teeth. Instead, the amateur sleuth later used said evidence to confront the murderer, all alone, of course, with no back-up anywhere to be seen, and nearly became the third victim. Which murder would certainly have been justifiable homicide, in my humble opinion. Any amatuer sleuth that dumb . . . .

My point is that the author should have done some in-depth research with some real-life law enforcement officials to see whether or not the amateur sleuth could have so easily gotten into the house to find and use that evidence without the police finding it first. Personally, I don't think it would've happened. Investigators are fairly territorial when a murder happens, meaning they don't let just anyone paw through closed drawers at a possible crime scene until after they (the investigators) have solved the crime to their satisfaction.

IF I remember correctly, the setting for this mystery was fictional, not a real, existing city, but, even if your setting is fictional, set in a town no one ever heard of or actually lived in, your characters still MUST behave in a way that would make sense in a real town, be it small or large. Otherwise your readers will not be able to suspend disbelief long enough to enjoy the story. And we'll rack up more dental bills while grinding our teeth. Please, spare us!

Answering Some Hard Questions

The winner of a free copy of Valerie Patterson's The Other Side of Blue is Kaye George. Congratulations, and enjoy!

Elizabeth Zelvin

I recently appeared as a guest author on a chat at The Writers Chat Room, where the participating writers asked me a couple of hard questions:
1. Why don’t people in abusive relationships just walk away?
2. What do you do as a shrink?
I was relieved to find that they seemed to like my answers. Here’s the transcript, so you can judge for yourself.

P--: Maybe it's a 'culture shock' or maybe I'm just too "square" , but anyway: I've read a lot of 'blurbs' recently which seem to depend on ABUSIVE relationships. I've never found the premise convincing:
surely the answer is simple: WALK AWAY!!
Liz: Ahhh, what a perfect lead line...
as I've told you, I'm a shrink...
and I've worked with many, many people, couples, and families over the years...
from alcoholic and violent and other kinds of dysfunctional families...
and there are a lot of good reasons why it's not so easy to walk away...
or "throw the bum out"...
without getting to clinical about it...
it doesn't have a lot to do with reason...
but with what some folks call the unconscious...
childhood history that may have been truly horrendous...
and what (corny though it may sound) I find it very helpful to call "the inner child"...
on a deep and irrational level, the person who can't unhook from a relationship that's bad for him or her...
E--: Does not leaving have to do with fear?
Liz: has had a lot of experience with being abandoned, both wooed and abused (yes, E, fear), may be terrified of being alone...
it is not reasonable, but believe me, leaving is almost impossible for some folks with that kind of history...
D--: Low self-esteem. Doesn't feel they deserve anything better.
who haven't had a chance to develop the inner strength to fight it and stand on their own...
Liz: that's certainly one aspect of it, D--...
two of the many scenarios, that I think dramatize how powerful it is...
one, a young child who's been sexually abused by a trusted adult...
P--: Lack of family support/values ... we could argue this one point all night! :)
Liz: either told it's an expression of love or that they'll be killed if they tell...
bad practice for breaking free of a dominant, violent significant other...
another, just looking at alcoholic women who may get themselves into situations they can't get out of...
77 percent of alcoholic women have experienced sexual abuse and trauma at some point in their lives...
a lot of people can't simply walk away and believe they'll be okay...
their experience doesn't support it.
L--: wow, that's a lot of great stuff
P--: TY Elizabeth - that's one of the most complete, thoughtful comments I've ever read! :)

A--: What do you try to do as a shrink? what is the proper name
Liz: LOL...
I like to say "shrink"...
part shock value, part making folks comfortable...
but I'm a clinical social worker by training and a psychotherapist...
for the past 8 or 9 years, an online therapist...
A--: oh cool
Liz: I'd say my goal is not to give "advice" or tell people what to do...
but to empower them to take responsibility for their own choices and feel that they CAN make their own choices...
a lot of the time, I do work with the wounded "inner child"...
A--: ohhhhh
Liz: people who carry so much pain from toxic "family rules"...
they have to heal on a lot of different levels...
cognitive (the head stuff), emotional, behavioral, and what I sometimes call spiritual...
A--: wow
Liz: which really means some form of letting go...
that's probably too much shorthand, but it is basically what I do.
A--: Thanks Elizabeth
L--: Liz, your answers are fabulous :)
A--: ditto

The Writer's Chat Room has guest authors on Sunday evenings and open chat for writers on Wednesdays.

Valerie Patterson: Writing YA Mystery

Interviewed by Sandra Parshall

Everyone who leaves a comment today will have a chance to win a signed copy of The Other Side of Blue. Check back tomorrow to find out if you won.

Valerie O. Patterson, author of the Young Adult mystery The Other Side of Blue, was raised in the Florida panhandle where the Gulf of Mexico inspired a love of blue and a fascination with the horizon and what lies beyond. Valerie graduated in May 2008 with an MFA in Children’s Literature from Hollins University, where she twice received the Shirley Henn Award for Creative Scholarship. She has also received a Work-in-Progress grant from the Society of Children’s Bookwriters and Illustrators (SCBWI). Her first work of mystery fiction featuring a teenage protagonist was the short story “Death in Woad Blue” in the Chesapeake Crimes II anthology. In addition to SCBWI, she is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, the Women’s National Book Association, and the Authors Guild. She lives in the Washington, DC area with her husband. Visit her website at www.valerieopatterson.com.

Q. Tell us about The Other Side of Blue and Cyan, its young lead character.

A. Cyan and her artist mother return to the island of Curacao, where her father drowned mysteriously the year before. The unresolved death continues to haunt Cyan, and the distance between her and her mother grows greater as Cyan tries to discover what really happened. To complicate matters, a younger girl, Kammi, who is to become Cyan's stepsister when her mother remarries, arrives on the island, too. The novel explores grief, forgiveness and hope.

Q. What made you decide to write a young adult mystery?

A. I don't think of writing for teens as something I "decided" to do. I've written at least half a mystery aimed at the adult market, but I seem to be drawn to children and teen's voices. Perhaps that period of time in my life provided so much material for exploration; it's those emotions I tend to go back to when I write.

Q. What makes a book a young adult novel? Do you have to follow certain guidelines to write YA? Would adults enjoy reading your novel too?

A. Traditionally, teen fiction covers ages 12 and up. As a general rule, the main difference between teen fiction and adult fiction is that most teen fiction still has some hope at the ending, regardless of how grim the story line is throughout. Even that distinction may be changing as I think the line between adult and teen books continues to blur. I know a number of adults who devour teen fiction. Adults who think teen fiction is somehow "lesser" fiction are missing out. Some of the best books I've ever read are designated "children's fiction." I have had adults tell me they enjoyed my book--for some it's the first contemporary YA novel they've read.

Q. What inspired the story? Why was it necessary for the protagonist to be a teenager?

A. Stories come from many places and for me seem to sift together until a vision of a character or a place emerges. The teen years seem particularly a time of questioning, of strong emotion, of unraveling things we've taken for granted before. The mother-daughter relationship is the pivotal point in this novel, and I think for many teens and mothers, that relationship is a source of tension, but also of ultimate understanding. This particular story wouldn't have worked if Cyan had been an adult.

Q. Why – aside from the pleasure of the research! – did you set the book in Curacao?

A. I set the book there because the place intrigued me. The country is strikingly beautiful and is a blend of diverse cultures and languages. For an artist it seemed an ideal location to capture color and movement. I also liked the idea of setting the American characters in an "other" place, a place they have come to know but only in a way that an outsider begins to know a place. Finally, I grew up near the Gulf of Mexico and the sea has always drawn me to it.
Q. Would you tell us about your path to publication? Do you think it’s easier or harder to sell a YA book than an adult book? Has the experience of publication surprised you in any way?

A. My path to publication can be attributed to a wonderful literary agent, Sarah Davies of Greenhouse Literary, and my editor at Clarion/HMH, Jennifer Wingertzahn. Each heard something in Cyan's voice that drew them in. Both asked questions and suggested changes to make the writing and the storyline stronger. I also have great critique group members; they were my first readers. I don't think publishing a book for any age group is easy, and I certainly think the YA market is as tough as the adult market. The emotions of being published surprised me more than I anticipated--the feelings of joy and terror both held simultaneously.

Q. How do you market a YA mystery and reach teen readers, especially at a time when teens seem to be reading less than ever? Do you think your book will be bought mostly by teens themselves or by adults who purchase it as a gift for the young people in their lives?

A. Those are tough questions. Teens read but, like adults, their interests vary, and many other media clamor for their attention, from computers to MP3 players to cable television. My book is a quieter read--I think it appeals more to teens interested in language and relationships and willing to read something without heart-stopping action. The cover is very attractive, so that may lead teens to pick it up off the shelf and read the flap copy. Marketing to teens means reaching them through blogs and teen-friendly websites. Word-of-mouth is extremely important, too. Marketing is tough, though, regardless of genre and age-group.

Q. When you were writing The Other Side of Blue, did you have teenage critiquers to give you feedback or teen advisors to help you nail down the cultural details?

A. No, I didn't. I have very good critique partners who write for children and teens. My nieces, to whom the book is dedicated, didn't get to read it until after publication.

Q. Do you have aspirations to write adult mysteries, or will you stay with YA?

A. I have about half of a mystery for adult audiences in a drawer. At this point, though, I really like writing for teens and younger audiences. I hope to continue improving as a writer. Maybe the right story will come along for me that can only be written for adults.

Q. Has the MFA program benefitted you as a writer? Do you plan to teach, or will you write full-time?

A. Yes, the MFA gave me the opportunity to study literature as well as writing. I think the rigor of the program has made me a better writer. I do hope to teach writing on a part-time basis in the future, but my main focus now is to continue striving to be a better writer.

Q. What are you working on now?

A. I'm working on another book for young readers. Set in Florida, this new book for middle grade readers is about friendship. It isn't a mystery at all (although all books are in part mysteries).

Q. What advice do you have for writers who want to write mysteries or mainstream novels for the young adult market?

A. Read extensively in the genre you want to write for...then tap into the feelings you had at the age you're writing about. Technology changes but basic emotions do not.

*********************
Valerie will discuss and sign The Other Side of Blue at Barnes & Noble in Reston, VA, at 1 p.m. January 17.

The Art of Tinkering

Sharon Wildwind

I’ve always loved to tinker, to take things apart and attempt to put them back together, though unlike my friend, Grey, I usually confined myself to things that were already broken.

When Grey was three, he handed his mother a double handful of screws. She asked, “Where did you get these?”

“I took my high chair apart,” Grey replied, toddling off, screwdriver in hand, to look for a new challenge.

Grey is now an engineer.

I believe that if a human being put something together, another human being should be able to take it apart. Unfortunately, this has gotten a lot more complicated with the addition of computer circuits and on-board diagnostics. I pay attention to stickers that say, “There are no user-serviceable parts inside. Opening this case invalidates the warranty.” Even after shipping those items off to my friendly, neighborhood repair person, there is still a lot of tinkering that can be done.

I was reminded not only of the importance of tinkering, but of the basic sensual pleasures of work that gets your hands dirty in a wonderful book, My River Chronicles: Rediscovering America on the Hudson,” by Jessica DuLong. Ms. DuLong left a computer company desk job to become, first a volunteer in the engine room of a former New York City fire boat, then the owner of her own tug boat, and finally a Coast-Guard licensed marine engineer.

Along the way, she made friends with volunteers who salvage and restore old boats, and with John Ratzenberger, the founder of the Nuts, Bolts and Thingamajigs Foundation. Ratzenberger believes that in North America we are in danger of losing our ability to invent and to work with our hands, in large part, because kids don’t grow up tinkering. The Foundation sponsors summer camps where boys and girls can relearn this lost art, and the provide scholarships for students who want to enter the trades.

Oh, if you take a look at his site and think that Ratzenberger looks vaguely familiar, try imagining him in a post office employee’s uniform, sitting in a bar called Cheers.

Sharon’s rules for safe tinkering.

If it’s already broken, you can’t make it any worse and you might make it better.

The exception to this is if whatever you are considering tinkering with contains caustic chemicals, liquid PCBs, or ionizing radiation. Stop. Do not tinker. Call the hazardous materials section of your local fire department to ask how to safely dispose of the item.

Believe stickers that say, “There are no user-serviceable parts inside. Opening this case invalidates the warranty.” Of course, if the warranty period has already expired, open it up. Likely, you won’t fix it, but at least you can take time to appreciate what the inside looks like. And you might find some lovely bits that can be used in art projects.

Always unplug the object and/or take the batteries out before you start tinkering.

Always wear eye protection when you remove that last screw in a covering. You have no idea what’s spring-loaded inside.

Use your digital camera. Photograph every step of the operation as up close and personal as you can. The photograph will help you figure out how to get things back together.

A good cleaning won’t hurt and it might help.

Above all, take time to appreciate the ingenuity that went into making this object. Look at the craftsmanship. Look at how the pieces—some of them very tiny—fit together so well. Above all, get your hands dirty and have fun.

Charades, Pictionary, and Other Tests of Marriage

by Julia Buckley


























Many divorces, I’m guessing, can be traced to a game of charades, especially in that moment when the charader keeps repeating the same crazy motion—smacking his head, perhaps—and refusing to acknowledge the confusion of his teammates. Smack, smack, glare. Smack, smack, glare. The charader becomes angry that his thoughts aren’t instantly transferred into the minds of the guessers. There is, unless the players are quite good-natured, frustration and eventual fury on both sides.

A similar game is Pictionary. In this case, the frustration lies in having to draw the idea and hoping that your teammates can recognize the picture. At our New Year’s gathering with neighbors, we played a cross between Pictionary and Win, Lose, or Draw. Remember that game? Remember Bert Convy? :)

Anyway, our neighbor Burt set up a big pad and we divided into family teams: our four versus their four. One of theirs was a five-year-old, which you would think would be a handicap, except that our team contained my husband. Not to slam my spouse, but he would be the first to admit that his art skills are on a par with the average pre-schooler’s, partly because he has the manual dexterity of Frankenstein. When he does the dishes, dishes break. When he strokes a child’s hair, the child says “ow.” And when he draws a picture in Pictionary, it looks like the one above. That’s right, the child didn’t draw that picture: Jeff did. Can you guess what it is? I’ll give you a hint. It’s in the category “movies.”

We couldn’t guess, either. My children made some game attempts. “Devil?” “Angels and Demons?” “The Exorcist?” “Dracula?” “Snowman?” “Mothman?” “The Butterfly Effect?” “Come on!” we yelled, wanting more clues.

My husband shook his head and pointed at the thing above. We looked. The timekeeper laughed.

We tried more desperately. “The Thing?” “Caped Wonder from Outer Space?” “The Blob?” “Alien?” “Pig-nosed Horn Creature?”

No. “Time’s up!” crowed our neighbor’s daughter.

“Dad, what was it?” asked our sons.

My husband drooped. “Now I don’t want to tell you.”

“No, really. We’ll get it,” we assured him. Surely, once we had the knowledge, we would link his visuals to the movie in question.

He showed us his card. It said, “The Matrix.” The Matrix. We looked at the card, then at his visual.

Then we laughed for about five minutes.

My youngest son, wiping the tears from his eyes, said, “You should have drawn this.” He sketched a pair of sunglasses and a gun. It took about five seconds.

“Oh, yeah, that would have done it,” various people murmured.

My husband, head bowed, went back to his seat. We had nothing to lose or gain from this exercise—we had stopped keeping score. But I could see how competitive people with a few beers in them would become furious—either because a spouse laughed at him or because a spouse drew an impossible picture for her.

As it was, my husband retained his dignity, blaming the card for being impossible, but my sons and I kept sending him glances of disbelief. Not since his famous drawing of “Brothers” (two mustached men holding hands) had his pictionary been this inscrutable. I wondered if there was a game that wouldn’t bring out the subtle aggressions or humiliations of our family.

Trivial Pursuit? No way. Sorry? Nope. Poker? Not a chance . . . .

Perhaps we should just watch television. :)

What is this thing and why am I keeping it?

Most of us have them. Some of us have entire drawers or closet shelves filled with them. Those funny-looking little parts that came off something or other (can't recall what, exactly), those keys that must fit a lock somewhere (we can't recall where, exactly), those odds and ends that we're afraid to throw away because the day might come when we'll have an urgent need that only they can fill. What does the stuff we save say about us?

You decide. Today Poe's Deadly Daughters open their junk drawers and closets and expose a few of the items lurking there.

Elizabeth Zelvin:

I decided to take the macro route in answering this question. I had only to open the nearest closet and take a gander at the top shelves, which hold three sleeping bags and a tent from the pre-pop-up era. My husband has adamantly refused to go camping since we last used these things in 1982 in Bar Harbor, ME. My son was at camp in the area, and I drove us and my mother’s car into a ten-foot ditch to avoid a pile-up when a driver five cars ahead suddenly decided to make a left turn on two-lane US 1. Also on the shelf: a crumpled black cap and gown that I initially thought must date from my master’s degree in social work from Columbia University in 1985. But on second thoughts, I think my son wore them at his graduation from Stuyvesant High School in 1988. He’ll turn 40 this year. But you never know. Somebody in the family might need them. Peeping out from behind the mortarboard is a foam neck brace. We got whiplash back in 1982, and my husband is currently getting over a herniated disc in his neck. If we’d only held on to the old neck brace, we wouldn’t have had to go out and buy a new one.

Lonnie Cruse:

Okay, I'll cop to owning the aforementioned multitude of odd keys that no one in our family claims. Strangely enough, we went through those keys just last week, tried them in every door in the house, and discovered three or four that should have been on my key ring (dead bolt for front door, keys to back door, and why weren't those on my key ring where they belonged to begin with?). We found the keys we give to guests staying with us and promptly put them in the proverbial "safe place." Now I just have to remember where that is. Beyond that, we still have a handful of odd keys (pictured right) and we have no idea what they open. Sigh.

We're hoping that a couple of them belong to our grown kids. (They did trust us with keys to their houses a long while back. Perhaps that trust was misplaced? Hmmm.) I've got them in an envelope and plan to try them at the kid's houses sometime soon, to see if we need to keep them.

Beyond that, we still had another handful of keys that opened absolutely nothing we now own. Not the garage. Not the shed. Not the house. Not a P. O. Box, nor a safe deposit box. They aren't car keys. Who knows what they are or where they belong? We tossed them. Which means that whatever they did/do belong to will suddenly and most urgently have to be unlocked sometime next week, something that hasn't needed to be unlocked in decades. And we won't have the key(s) anymore. Anyone know a good locksmith? Sigh.

Julia Buckley:

There are two items that I always grab at the store when I see them: tealights and tiny bows. Therefore many a drawer in my house will contain random bows like these. The advantage of tiny bows? They work on little presents, big presents, even envelopes that need a special flair. If I could put bows on verbal sentiments, I would. :)

Other things that you might see, a la I SPY, in this picture, are the legs of a Sherlock Holmes greeting card that I never sent (I suspect I bought it for myself); a Borders gift card that I just received for Christmas; paper, scissors, marker, tape, some blank DVDs. And the only reason that this drawer seems so light on junk is that we just bought the desk about a month ago. :) The TRUE junk drawers were just too intimidating to take apart--although one of them held every school i.d. I was ever issued. I wonder why I saved those? To prove that I existed in the 80s? To prove that I once weighed far less than I do now? Who knows. The mysteries of our junk drawers may never be solved--but they're fun to examine, nonetheless.

Sandra Parshall:

Like Lonnie, I have old keys that fit no lock I can identify, as well as a couple that might still get me into a house we sold 15 years ago. Like Liz, I’m giving closet space to things I’m unlikely to use again. For some reason, I’ve saved the zip-out linings of coats but not the coats themselves. I also have countless left-hand garden gloves, mateless because the right-hand gloves wear out
first.

Book bags acquired at mystery conferences have multiplied much faster than they should have, considering how few conferences I attend, and I really should be using them. But what do I carry stuff in when I go to the library? My National Gallery of Art bag.

I didn’t realize until Christmas, when I received a desperately needed new wallet as a gift, that I’ve been carrying a certain amount of detritus everywhere I go. While cleaning out all the slots and hidden compartments of my old wallet, I removed an expired driver’s license (tucked behind the current one), an expired insurance card, a bookstore discount card I haven’t used in years, a scribbled address that doesn’t look familiar (intriguing), a couple of raffle tickets (For what? Who knows?), and two DC Metro farecards so ancient they don’t even have Tai Shan’s picture on them. My new wallet is starting fresh, but it won’t be long...

Sharon Wildwind:



















I regret to admit that in 2009 I came down with a case of chronic ephemera; that dreaded mixed-media art malady, which says everything, no matter how small or odd, should be saved because it might one day be useful to make art. It’s the writers’ equivalent of saving snips of dialog and descriptions because one day they might make a story. The difference is that all of the writing treasures can be saved in a small journal, while chronic ephemera tends to take up more space each year. So far, I’ve managed to confine my addiction to one medium-sized box, containing several plastic trays, like the one above. And no, I'm not looking for more stuff, so forget about sending me your spare keys, mismatched buttons, and collection of springs . . . well, unless it's something really unique, then I might be interested. Oh, heck, send photos, we'll negotiate.

I came upon this quote today, and it hit the nail on the head about how I feel about the coming year. Peace and a Happy New Year to everyone.

"We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives...not looking for flaws, but for potential."
~Ellen Goodman, Pulitzer prize winning columnist, author, speaker, and commentator
----
Now it’s your turn. What’s in your junk drawer or stuffed in the back of your hall closet? What useless items do you feel compelled to keep forever?

New Day, New Year . . .

By Lonnie Cruse

Once again I'm posting on a major holiday and assuming most readers are busy with family. Or sleeping in after seeing in the New Year? I'll likely be doing both.

When I was growing up, my step-mom was dead set on us having black-eyed peas every year on New Year's Day for good luck. Our family changed the tradition to pizza several years ago and it hasn't seemed to affect our good luck. And the pizza can be delivered. I like that part.

I'm scheduled to have two books come out this year, a second in the Kitty Bloodworth/'57 Chevy series titled FIFTY-SEVEN TRAVELING and a non-fiction based on Ephesians 6:10-18 about the whole armor of God titled DOES THIS ARMOR MAKE ME LOOK FAT? I'll obviously be promoting two entirely different kinds of books. Looks to be a busy year!

Along with blogging here each week, I write a weekly email newsletter for Christian women. In an upcoming issue I'm asking readers the questions: Where do you want to be with your life at the end of this year? And what are your plans for getting there? And I'm trying to answer that question for myself. Where DO I want to be with my life when the next decade begins? How do I plan to get there? Hmmmm. I'll have to get back to you on that one.

This last year has gone by so fast that I'm afraid by the time we reach March it will be time to put up the Christmas decorations and start shopping. Scary.

However you begin the new year this day, I hope that it's a good day and that by the end of the year things will be even better for you. Thanks to all of you for your support of PDD. We love our readers!

Letting Go: Both Gift and Resolution

Elizabeth Zelvin

Once again, it’s the time of year for gifts and resolutions. First, we’re supposed to wish for what we want, whether wishing takes the form of a letter to Santa Claus, hints to our loved ones, impulse buying for ourselves, or prayer. Then, we’re supposed to resolve to meet our goals for the coming year. For many, this involves grim determination: we must get that job, publish that manuscript, lose that weight. The catch is that grim determination is not a good method of capturing the bluebird of happiness. The other catch is that things happen the way they happen, not the way we want them to, most of the time.

It’s no secret that I subscribe to the theory that life is a lot more manageable if we take it one day at a time. The concept of New Year’s resolutions posit that life must be attacked in giant, indigestible one-year gobbets. Everybody knows this doesn’t work. But people continue to pursue the triumph of optimism over experience and go on resolving to force the outcomes they want.

What’s the opposite of this approach? It has many names: acceptance; detachment; wanting what you have, as opposed to insisting on getting what you want and feeling miserable, cheated, and defeated if you don’t. I like to call it letting go.

I’m no saint. I’m not saying that I enjoy letting go. But it’s a great alternative to frustration, envy, and a host of other unpleasant states of mind. I’ve learned this lesson over and over. Being human, I forget. But life has a way of reminding me that letting go is both inevitable and effective as a way of dealing with whatever comes up.

At Bouchercon in October, I learned—not for the first time, but I needed to hear it again—what a valuable tool letting go can be for writers. I attended a panel on the state of the short story market. The panelists were the editors of the two remaining and highly respected print journals that publish short mystery fiction and two authors who have published many stories in these journals over the years. My moment of enlightenment came in the answer to a question I asked the panel.

I don’t always raise my hand at these things, but I really wanted to know what they’d say. In the course of the discussion, they’d already confirmed that these are the only two major paying print markets for mystery stories and that both journals refuse to consider revised and resubmitted material as a matter of policy.

I started by mentioning that I’d had two stories accepted for one of these journals. I brushed off the patter of applause at that, adding that two other stories had been rejected by both the journals. What, I asked, could I do with these two stories? Should I go back and revise them, try to make them better? Should I submit them to the e-zines, a less prestigious but perhaps more receptive market?

You guessed it. Both veteran writers had the same opinion: let them go. Write the next story. Move on. “I hate it when I have to let go,” I muttered to a couple of friends in the audience with me. But I knew the writers were right. I’d learned it before as a writer, when I gradually developed the ability to “kill my darlings.” Then, the “darlings” were a treasured adverb, a witticism, a cherished scene that failed to advance the story.” These were just bigger darlings: whole stories. And since then, my wise and valued agent has said the same about a manuscript or two.

Perseverance, even persistence, is one thing. Hanging on when you need to let go is another. Letting go is so often the only path to peace of mind, fresh ideas, and sometimes success and happiness that may come in unexpected, even unimaginable forms. So it’s a gift. And I think I’ll commit to letting go whenever I need to today...and then tomorrow...and the day after that. So it’s a resolution.

A Year of Books

Sandra Parshall

I’m always disheartened when I look over my list of books I’ve read – or listened to – during the past year and realize I can’t recall a thing about many of them. No, this isn’t a consequence of advancing age. It’s always been the case: a lot of the books I read are instantly forgettable.

If I can remember the plot or style or – most important – the characters in a novel months after reading it, I know there’s something special about that book. It’s either very good or unforgettably bad. This year my list has an unusual number of terrific novels on it (some of them published in previous years).

My favorite was The Help by Kathryn Stockett, not a mystery but a surprisingly suspenseful story about a young white woman in the 1960s south who secretly transcribes and publishes the tales told by black maids working in white households. This was a time and place when white people could kill blacks with impunity, so the risks taken by “the help” in the novel are enormous. The story is spellbinding and every character is unforgettable.

I also loved The Last Child by John Hart, another intense, gripping novel set in the south. The child of the title is a boy who has watched his mother slowly destroy herself with drinking and an abusive relationship since her daughter disappeared. The young son is determined to find his sister, dead or alive, and give his mother some degree of peace. His probing sets off a string of terrifying consequences. I found The Last Child riveting, and I think it’s the best Hart has published so far.

I read two Michael Robotham novels this year, Shatter and The Night Ferry, and this writer is now on my must-read list for his future work. Shatter is about a man whose past comes back to haunt him... only trouble is, he doesn’t believe it is his past. The Night Ferry is equally gripping but utterly different, except for the always superb writing. It introduces Alicia Barba, a British police detective who is the child of Indian immigrants, a character I would love to see in a series. When an old friend is murdered, a shocking revelation sends Alicia on a hunt for the truth about her friend’s life and the baby everyone thought she was about to have.

Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects is a stunning debut. Her lead character is a young female newspaper reporter with a history of emotional problems that included a compulsion to cut herself. Now she’s out of treatment and must return home – the source of her troubles – to write about the murders of several children. Flynn’s insight into human behavior is keen and her prose is as sharp as the razors that tempt her heroine. The conclusion of the book is going to stay with me for a long time.

The Brutal Telling may win Louise Penny a third Agatha Award and a few other honors as well. She’s on a par with Julia Spencer-Fleming and Nancy Pickard, producing traditional mysteries with all the expected features – the familiar community, the beloved regular characters, respect for the gravity of murder without dwelling on the gore – plus the emotional depth and insight found in the best literature.

When Will There Be Good News? is, in my opinion, the best of Kate Atkinson’s Jackson Brody novels. Her books are considered more literary fiction than crime novels, but this one is as compelling as any mystery or thriller I’ve ever read. The opening sequence left me gasping in shock.

I loved Karin Slaughter’s Undone because it brought together Dr. Sara Linton from her Grant County series and Will Trent, the GBI agent from Fractured. This is a powerful story, perhaps the best Slaughter has ever written.

Other novels I enjoyed this year are The Wrong Mother by Sophie Hannah, Dismantled by Jennifer McMahon, Death and the Lit Chick by G.M. Malliet, Exit Music by Ian Rankin (the last Rebus novel), The Blood Detective by Dan Waddell, The Private Patient by P.D. James (possibly the last Dalgliesh novel), The Keepsake by Tess Gerritsen, Careless in Red by Elizabeth George, Sand Sharks by Margaret Maron. I've just started Jeri Westerson's Serpent in the Thorns and I can tell already it's going to be one of my favorites. I have lots more 2009 releases that I haven't gotten to yet.

I feel as if I’ll never catch up with all the books I want to read, and now here comes 2010 with a whole new crop. Erin Hart’s False Mermaid in March, Julia Spencer-Fleming’s One Was a Soldier and Elizabeth George’s This Body of Death in April... Do you ever wish you could drop everything and just read for a few months?

What books did you love in 2009? What are you looking forward to in 2010?