Tag Archive for: Austin Starr mysteries

Before the Wishlist. The Beatles! and Tales of Yesteryear

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By Kay Kendall

Ah, the ease of the online wish list. I battled against
the concept for years. But I finally succumbed. 
What I GAINED: several hours of my precious time. What I LOST: the joy
of watching loved ones delighted by their surprise gifts. If you are a boomer (as I am), then you recall when gift-giving
before the wish list hit the scene. You tried to surprise the gift recipient—to
surprise and delight. My joy of gift giving and wrapping came from my maternal
grandmother who reveled in every aspect of gifting. 

In my boomer youth, I watched her decorate packages imaginatively.
She could have hired on for Neiman Marcus—a store back in the day that did
elegant and fanciful wrapping. (Their efforts today are a sad, pale imitation,
fie!) What my grandmother could not do—not to save her very soul—was to keep
her gifts a secret. She got so excited that she just had to give you
hints–hints so major you could easily figure out what your gifts would turn
out to be. I took such pleasure in her enjoyment that I didn’t mind.

Maybe telling Santa what you wanted for
Christmas grew into the concept of wish lists. Yet today’s wish list has
more power. Woe to you if you give someone under-forty a present not on his or her wish list. I fought against wish lists until a dear friend said she gave up trying to surprise her offspring
with delightful gifts. Finally she switched to the dreaded wish list or gave
gift cards. Otherwise her grandchildren and children were chagrined. That’s how I discovered my offspring was participating in a societal
shift. A generational difference, clear and simple. And so . . . I threw in
the towel. But I remember a different time. I recall a December when
I was a graduating high school senior. I wanted Beatle albums and 45s. When asked
what I wanted for Christmas, “Beatles please” was my instant answer. My ONLY
answer.

Meantime my mother and grandmother were in the
kitchen making cranberry loaves, fudge, and mounds of cookies…all the while
talking about the Christmases of their youths. My mother said she’d been
pleased with mandarin oranges and pecans in the toe of her Christmas
stocking, back in the 1930s. My grandmother recalled helping her mother go into
the farmyard in Ohio and select a goose for neck twisting, in the first decade
of the twentieth century–the holiday meal to be! I loved their quaint tales of
the good old days. (Probably these stories helped grow my lust for history.)

When the morning of December twenty-fifth dawned. I went
into the living room with my parents (I, an only child, admittedly a tiny bit
or more spoiled). I had expected to call this my very own Beatles Christmas.
But no. Arrayed beside the brightly lit tree was a set of three luggage pieces.

“You’re going off to college next year,” Delight shone in
Mother’s eyes. “We knew you needed nice suitcases.” I tried to murmur sincere
thanks while eyeing other presents. Where were the telltale signs of even one
33-long-play album? But John, Paul, George, and Ringo were nowhere to be found.
All was not lost however. My paternal grandparents sent a
check that I promptly cashed and turned into two longed-for Beatles albums.
But, oh, I still recall the rush of emotion, the dramatic
upheaval.

Things are so different now in the high season of gift
giving. Well something’s lost but something’s gained in living every day.
That’s the way the song goes, Joni Mitchell’s beloved “Both Sides Now.”

So then, what’s your opinion of the wish list phenomenon?
What do you remember about gift giving and receiving in the “good old days?”
What’s the routine at your house? I’d sure love to know.

*******
 
 

Meet the author

Kay Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and now writes mysteries that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. A reformed PR executive who won international awards for her projects, Kay lives in Texas with her Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff. In 2015 Rainy Day Women won two Silver Falchion Awards at Killer Nashville. Visit Kay at her website < http://www.austinstarr.com/>or on Facebook < https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor>



 

Red Stilettos? Not with MY Feet!

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By Kay Kendall

Darned good thing I’m not required to wear stilettos to be part
of this magnificent gang of writers. I’m tall, two inches shy of six feet, and
have no need whatsoever for sky-high heels. And to boot (hee hee) I don’t wear red
shoes—or any other bright color. Nature gifted me with rather large feet (ahmm)
in order to balance my height.

Nancy, my pal since kindergarten, always teases me about my
foot size. I reply I’d tip over if they were small, or average, in
length. That’s a sensible view—all of me should be in proportion. But
recently I saw actress Brooke Shields interviewed on TV when she
divulged an odd factoid. Though she’s six feet tall, her shoe size is a seven. She concluded, “Therefore I often fall over.” I raced to phone Nancy to tell her that my opinion had been validated. (Inquiring minds might like to know my own size rhymes with the number seven.)

Despite my flippant answer, I’m not fond of my feet. They
often don’t even seem to belong to me, lurking at such a far distance from my eyes.
My feet seem almost alien. This probably relates to the fact that I once had
difficulty finding shoes to fit me, back when larger sizes for women were
uncommon and I would end up buying ill-fitting footwear. Consequently my feet
always hurt.

Style wise I also took what I could get. My shoes were never
stylish and always in somber colors. In my first job after grad school, my
employer was hosting a fancy dinner. One of my coworkers wanted to know what I
was wearing—answer: blue—and then what color shoes I would wear. When she heard I
could choose either black or brown shoes, she was stunned, insisting I had to do better than that. She set to work on me, getting me to upgrade to fancier footwear. My fascination with
more interesting shoes dates from that point in time—30 years ago.

 These days the range of sizes for female feet has grown—and my feet have not, hallelujah! Now my shoes spread all over my closet and
creep into my husband’s space. The colors range more widely—showing a
partiality to gold and blue. Nevertheless, you still won’t find a heel higher
than two inches, or a pair that is red. Some things never change.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Meet the author


Kay
Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and now writes mysteries
that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. A reformed PR executive
who won international awards for her projects, Kay lives in Texas with her
Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to
her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan
buff. In 2015 Rainy Day Women won two
Silver Falchion Awards at Killer Nashville. Visit Kay at her website < http://www.austinstarr.com/>or on Facebook < https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor>

 

Austin Starr’s Bad Day

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by Kay Kendall

The protagonist-turned-amateur-sleuth in my two mysteries is Austin Starr. Here she shares her thoughts about the problems she faces in my first book, DESOLATION ROW, and hints at ongoing issues that develop further in my second, RAINY DAY WOMEN.

This
year, 1968, looked so promising at first. I married my college boyfriend David.
He’s kind, smart, handsome…and taller than me. That’s a real plus.
Unfortunately,
today I can’t see him because he’s in jail. And if that’s not bad enough
already, he’s in jail in a foreign country.
OK, OK,
so we’ve only moved to Canada…but we Americans aren’t supposed to feel any
culture shock up here in Canada. Ha! Not true. I’ve got news for you. Canada is
not the 51st state.
Now,
please, don’t get the wrong idea about me. Just because the man I married
became a draft resister, don’t think I’m a hippie, or anything like that.
Really, I’m just a good Texas girl from a small town who followed my mother’s
advice—to get married and settle down, do what your husband tells you. Mother
simply never dreamed I’d end up living in such a cold climate, in a strange
place. Canada.
I’m so
homesick. I miss my family and friends back in Texas. And I’m scared. So very
scared. They say the Mounties always get their man…and the Mounties now have
got my husband.
They’re
sure David murdered another draft resister. But I know he didn’t do it. After
all, we came to Canada because David was against killing—against all
killing—even in the war in Vietnam.
Today
I’m setting out to prove my husband isn’t the killer. I’m nosey, curious, and
had some training from the CIA. My handler, “Mr. Smith,” was sorry to see me
leave the program. He warned I might not be happy and said he’d keep the door
open for me, in case I ever wanted to return. Smith says the Agency needs my
Russian language skills.
Shhh,
please don’t tell David. He doesn’t know about this part of my life. I don’t
think he would approve.
Here’s
the strangest thing about this murder case. I was the one who found the
body—literally fell over it, in a church basement. Yes, me. And it turns out
the corpse was the draft-resisting son of a United States Senator. That’s why
the Mounties moved so fast to jail my poor David. The senator called the prime
minister of Canada and demanded the killer be caught, fast.
Now
everyone is satisfied the murderer is in jail—everyone but me, that is.
So now
I’m on a mission…even though I’m alone, homesick, scared…and only 22 years
old…I have to prove David’s innocence. I’m his only hope.
I’m
Austin Starr, and I’m hunting for a brutal killer. Wish me luck.

~~~~~~~

Read the first 20
pages of Kay Kendall’s second mystery, RAINY
DAY WOMEN here! http://www.austinstarr.com/ Her book won 2 awards at Killer Nashville in 2016.
Her first novel about Austin Starr‘s sleuthing,

Kay Kendall & Wills AKA King William

DESOLATION ROW, was a finalist for best mystery at Killer Nashville in 2014. Visit Kay on Facebook at                               https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor
 


 

Why I Write Mysteries

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By Kay Kendall

I don’t give a fig how a car works. Or electricity. Or a
computer. They all could be black boxes, as far as I’m concerned, inside which
mysterious things happen. Poof! The car turns on. Poof! Electricity powers the
air conditioner. Poof! The computer recalls everything you type into it. 
What I really care about is how people work. Why they do
the things they do. I discovered this passion one teenaged summer when my
boyfriend dumped me and I drooped into churlishness. After a week my mother
tired of my moods and suggested I work at one of her charities. 
I began volunteering at the county’s psychiatric clinic,
helping with rudimentary clerical tasks. As I typed up forms and patients’
reports, I was shocked to see so much pain appear on the pages. But later I was
gratified to see the clinic’s psychiatric social worker help some of those patients
whose woes I learned about. Sometimes they left our office with springier steps.
I fancied I could see their anxieties and depression lift.
That same summer my favorite cousin began exhibiting
behavioral problems. Merle was super bright but troubled. I never saw him act
out or be mean to someone, but I began to hear stories.  I wanted to help him but didn’t have the
skills. Ah-hah, I thought! I’d study psychology in college and become a
psychiatric social worker so I could fix him.
Please note that I never aspired to be a psychologist or
psychiatrist. Perhaps that was because I’d only seen a psychiatric social
worker in action and therefore could imagine being one. Betty Friedan had just published
The Feminine Mystique. I hadn’t read
it, and it would be years before I became an ardent feminist. 
When I started college in the sixties, I loved all my
classes—even for a short time geology and astronomy, subjects taken only to
fulfill liberal arts distribution requirements. Much to my sorrow, however, psychology was a letdown,
a huge bore. 
I wanted to learn about people. But all we studied were
rats. While two friends in my class did manage to cope with rodentia behavior, I
couldn’t.  These women went on to earn
their doctorates in psychology and help countless people. For me, however, the
gap between the actions of rats and people was too great a leap. I never took
another course after Psych 101.
I toyed with various majors, but English literature was my
mainstay. Fiction encompassed everything about humanity, and I’d always been a
ferocious reader. Writing was a joy. After getting a graduate degree in history—real
crimes that happened in the past, I now say—I fell back on writing and developed
a solid career as a corporate communicator. However, I never felt I’d found my
niche. My heart did not sing.
When I began writing fiction a decade ago, I finally responded
to an inner compulsion. What I had to explore is why people do the things they
do. Character development and plot are almost synonymous to me. It’s like attending
another high school reunion and seeing old friends again after ten years. I’m
reading the newest chapters in their lives. People are walking and ongoing stories.
Curiosity drives me to learn everything I can and then fictionalize it—showing behavior
and uncovering motives. 
The mystery comes in when good people do bad things. Each
of us is a mysterious black box. Inside are so many factors all jumbled up—memories,
desires, huge grievances. How can others hope to understand us? How can we hope
to understand ourselves?
Yet still we try. We must try. Sadly, I never deciphered
what made my cousin Merle derail. I was helpless to alter his sad trajectory. Alas,
after living for years in a hospital for the criminally insane, he
wandered off into a field while on furlough and simply lay down and died. He
was forty.
As a mystery author, though, I can put characters into
extreme peril and see how they react. Can they sort out their own complicated
lives? Can they figure out who has done what vile thing to whom? Solving the
puzzles of people living only on pages (or in E files) is now my full-time job.
After I figure out one set of interconnecting lives, then I go on to develop
another set, another, and another. This is a job I relish.

~~~~~~~

Author Kay Kendall

Want to read the first 20 pages of Kay Kendall’s second mystery, RANY DAY WOMEN? Go to her website http://www.austinstarr.com/ That book won two awards at the Killer Nashville conference in August 2016—for best mystery/crime and also for best book. Her first novel about Austin Starr‘s sleuthing, DESOLATION ROW, was a finalist for best mystery at Killer Nashville in 2014. Visit Kay on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/KayKendallAuthor


 

How Mad Men in the Not-so-good-ole Days Made Women Mad Too

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By Kay Kendall


The
advent of Mad Men on television marked
the return of the 60s to the popular consciousness. Before that, the tumultuous
decade of the 1960s had a bad rep. It was a divisive time, and people were sick
of it. The go-go economy of the 1980s buried “radical chic” in piles of money, and
even some famous 60s activists switched to making a buck, big time.

Mad Men on TV was soon followed by fashion trends. Today retro-hippie
clothes and accessories are back with a vengeance. I’ve purchased three items
with long suede fringe—stockpiling against the day when fringe falls out of
style again.

Yet
it’s not just 60s fashion that lures me in. I am a fan of that benighted
decade. Even before Mad Men hit TV in
2007, I was writing my first mystery set in the 60s. I was following that old
maxim, “Write what you know.” As a child of the 60s I had stories to tell.

I also
believe that an author should write what she loves—and my favorite books are
historical mysteries. I chose my time period guided by the many authors who
locate their sleuths and spymasters during the wars of the 20th century. The
two world wars and the Cold War are overrun with novels. The war in Vietnam,
however, was such a debacle that few want to see it on the big or little screen
or read about it in books. Still, it was a comparatively empty niche that I
thought needed filling with mysteries. My books show the life of a young woman
named Austin Starr—not the radical type who made headlines, the Hanoi Janes or
Angela Davises—but a moderate swept along by history’s tides. All that turmoil
lends itself to drama, intrigue, and murder.
Rainy Day Women is set in August 1969, in the days between the
Charles Manson killings in Los Angeles and the big rock festival in Woodstock—one
she had hoped to attend. Instead, Austin flies to the West Coast, where she pursues
her knack for solving mysteries, built on her CIA training and inspired by countless
Nancy Drew books she read as a child. Austin tries to absolve a dear friend
accused of killing a feminist leader and is drawn into the movement. As she
learns about it, she learns more about herself.
Second-wave
feminism is the backdrop for the story, and Rainy
Day Women is set against the historical details of the period. Though that
time is long gone, I “bring it all back home” again.* Some details are technological—the
endless searching for a much-needed payphone, the need to solve a crime without
using CSI-style techniques—and establish how much change our everyday lives
have witnessed. Other details are astonishing yet real—notably the casual but
overbearing sexist attitudes of way too many men in the book. But that
particular kind of madness led to rising anger among women. And then to a whole
movement. 
*******

Joan Baez and Bob Dylan, ca. 1965

NOTE:
Bringing It All Back Home is a Bob
Dylan album from 1965, including such masterpieces as “Subterranean Homesick Blues,”
“Mr. Tambourine Man,” and “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue.” Some literary critics
compare Dylan to Shakespeare. I don’t go quite so far but am a staunch fan.
That’s why I name my mysteries after his song titles. His work is so vast
in scope that his song titles cover every eventuality in fiction
that I could ever dream up. His attitudes toward women as portrayed in his
lyrics are sexist—true—but he was a man of his times. That’s the best excuse I
can make for him, and he certainly fits my material.

Kay
Kendall lives in Texas with her Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel
Wills. In her former life as a PR executive, Kay’s projects won international
awards. And she studied lots and lots of history in school, and loves it still!

  

Is “Author Fitness” an Oxymoron?

/in /by

By Kay Kendall

Most writers now spend countless hours each day seated at their
computers pouring words into their machines. Oh, for sure, a few rare birds do exist
who live otherwise—British writer Graham Greene wrote his usual 500 words each
day and then called it quits. Few of us are that disciplined, however, and
besides, the literary pace has picked up considerably since Greene’s heyday (and
more’s the pity).  

As Greene grew older, his daily word count even slid to 300
words. He said he couldn’t sit still longer than 90 minutes, comparing himself
unfavorably to Joseph Conrad whose ability to sit and write for twelve hours at
a stint was legendary.

Pity today’s poor authors. We no longer get the exercise
that our predecessors did decades ago. After all, they pounded typewriter keys. Surely that burned up a few extra calories
compared to the soft touch used on computer keys? And remember this—writers
from the 1860s to the 1960s also had to fling
their mechanical typewriter carriages when they reached the end of lines on their
pages. Until electric computers were invented, there was that nice little workout
too.  

Lately I’ve mused about the unhealthy life of a writer. Not
only am I getting creakier as I sit for longer hours at a time, but also I’m
reading that my lifespan is threatened if I sit too long each day. Health and
fitness gurus are now encouraging everyone to stand up—and walk too, preferably—at
least ten minutes out of each hour.

I think about
doing that, but so far that’s not been added to my routine. If I’m really
cooking on a chapter, I scarcely want to glance at the clock that’s telling me
to stand up, walk around—heck, and even smell the roses, for all I know. At
least when Graham Greene stopped after writing his required words, he then would
imbibe too much alcohol and consort with willing women who were not his wife.
That was some kind of incentive to get moving, I guess, at least for him.

I may not get up and move—or even wiggle in my chair—each hour
that I am writing, but I do exercise at least five times a week. I use a
stationary bicycle and recently added an elliptical machine to my workout
routine. Once upon a time I was proud of these exertions. I was exercising more
than the suggested number of hours each week. Yet that’s not good enough now. I
am still sitting for up to four hours at a stretch each day. My bottom gets
numb and sometimes—like now—my back aches a wee bit too.

So, I guess I’m ready for a new addition
to my fitness routine. Either that, or I could
adopt part of Graham Greene’s pattern and take up heavy drinking. Now there is
a topic for another blog one day—Let us consider the great number of writers
who were alcoholics.
 

 

Kay Kendall’s historical
mysteries capture the spirit and turbulence of the 1960s, and her titles show she’s a Bob
Dylan buff too. DESOLATION ROW (2013) and RAINY DAY WOMEN (2015) are in her
Austin Starr Mystery series. Austin is a 22-year-old Texas bride who ends up on
the frontlines of societal change, learns to cope, and turns amateur sleuth….Kay
lives in Texas with her Canadian husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel
Wills. In her former life as a PR executive, Kay’s projects won international
awards.

SHARING WITH STEPHEN KING

/in /by

By Kay Kendall

Never before have I imagined I shared anything with Stephen
King.
STEPHEN KING
He is very famous. I am not. His mind spins out inventive books in record time. I am a slow writer. King has published 54
novels and nearly 200 short stories. Kendall has published two novels and one
short story.
And yet, and yet. Yesterday I read Stephen King’s interview in
The New York Times and learned how we
are alike. Needless to say, I am thrilled.
What we have in common is not an ordinary habit. It’s
nothing like a preference for one kind of peanut butter over another—crunchy
versus smooth. Nope. Our shared pattern is pretty significant. Our minds are
involved—and so are our writing tendencies.
Here is the relevant passage from the interview:
Q. You’ve said that when you’re
not writing, if you have a break between books, you have especially vivid
dreams. Why do you think that is?
A. You get habituated to the
process, which is very mysterious, but it’s very much like dreaming…Once the
book is done, the stories are done, you don’t have anything in particular that
you want to do. The process goes on, but it goes on at night, your brain does
that, and you have the dreams. When I write again, it stops.
And this same thing happens to me too. Yes,
it does!
You may be thinking that this happens to other writers too,
but I have yet to come across another author with this pattern. When I explain how
and why my most vivid dreams start and stop, people tend to stare at me strangely.
I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m clutching at straws, putting
myself in the same camp as this super-gifted writer, Mr. King. But what it does
is give me impetus to keep on writing. This is surely a sign that means I am
doing what I was meant to do. I write. I make up stories. I mix fact and
fantasy and call it fiction.
Just as I did when my mother insisted that I take a daily
nap every afternoon when I was much too old to nap. I would lie there for the
requisite hour and spin endless stories to entertain myself. I am doing the
same thing still, now that I am all grown up.

~~~~~~~

Kay Kendall’s historical mysteries
capture the spirit and turbulence of the 1960s. DESOLATION ROW (2013) and RAINY
DAY WOMEN (2015) are in her Austin Starr Mystery series. Austin is a
22-year-old Texas bride who ends up on the frontlines of societal change,
learns to cope, and turns amateur sleuth. Kay’s degrees
in Russian history and language help ground her tales in the Cold War, and her
titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. Kay lives in Texas with her Canadian
husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. In her former life as a PR
executive, Kay’s projects won international awards.

Conferences for Writers and for Readers—Part I

/in /by
By Kay Kendall


Today I’m sitting in for Stiletto Gang colleague and friend, Marjorie Brody. A
sudden death in her family has left her with an unbearable list of things to
do. Pinch-hitting for Marjorie gives me the chance to make back-to-back posts
exploring the burgeoning phenomenon of conferences designed both for readers
and for writers. 
 

Have suitcase…Will Travel!

Back in the days before I
was a published author, when I contemplated a writing career, I had no idea
that there would be so many opportunities to hobnob with other writers—and with
readers too. I had always thought that the life of a writer was a solitary one.
Then I discovered the wealth of conferences that blanket this continent. The
list of seminars for aspiring writers is long, and almost as long is the list
of conferences for both readers and authors. I swear you could spend your life
going from meeting to meeting. That is, if you had the money to do so.
I have ended up loving
the networking and marketing and meeting readers and other writers so much that
it’s easy to forget about the writing at the core of it all…which remains
sitting alone in that room and facing an empty screen and throwing type up on
it. For me, that is torture. Once I get past the first draft, then the rest is
glorious.
Starting in 2004, I began
attending one regional writing conference per year. Then, beginning in 2011, I
started attending Bouchercon. It must be the world’s largest con aimed at fans
of mystery authors. Then in 2013, the year my first book was published, I
attended three conferences in one calendar year, and that has remained my
standard to this very day. If my budget and my writing calendar allowed,
however, I would do even more. The most marvelous part of these gatherings is
meeting many people who were Facebook friends and now have turned into real
ones, not just virtual.
Three days ago I returned
home from the annual ThrillerFest in New York City, sponsored by International
Thriller Writers. ITW celebrates its tenth anniversary this year so the
conference was even more star-studded than usual. I participated in an authors’
round table, renewed old acquaintances, made new ones, sold some books, and
networked like crazy. In tomorrow’s post I will talk in detail about some of
the famous writers who spoke at ThrillerFest.
The month of October will
begin with Bouchercon in Raleigh, North Carolina, and end with Killer Nashville
in Tennessee. Half the size of ThrillerFest and Bouchercon, Killer Nashville is
an exceptionally supportive and friendly gathering. My more introverted author
pals are drawn to smaller conferences like this one. At each event I’ve
attended, one of these introverts confides to me how difficult it is to endure
so many people at once.
But now I am back in my
author’s lair, facing that empty PC screen. The nasty thing keeps whispering to
me that I must start writing my third mystery featuring my amateur sleuth,
Austin Starr. Tentatively titled Tombstone
Blues, this will be Austin’s most dangerous adventure yet when she and her
husband David tangle with Russian spies in Cold War-era Vienna. It opens only a
month after the conclusion of Rainy Day
Women, and David is still mad at her. Because she . . . but wait! I’m about
to give away too much. I must stop. I want this to be a spoiler-free zone!
*******
Kay
Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and writes
atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit and turbulence of the
sixties. She is a reformed PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband,
three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to her bunnies, she
loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. RAINY DAY
WOMEN published on July 7–the second in her Austin Starr Mystery series. The
audio-book will be out soon. 

http://www.amazon.com/Rainy-Day-Women-Mystery-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B00W2X5SCS

*******

Motherhood and Murder

/in /by
By Kay Kendall
Author Kay Kendall and bunny Dusty

When
I conceived of my mystery series featuring Austin Starr, amateur sleuth, I knew
she would become a mother by book two. My heroine would have the temperament of
Nancy Drew, if only she had grown up, gotten married, and—wait for it—had a
baby. And so it came to pass. That book launches next week on July 7. In Rainy Day Women, Wyatt Starr makes his
first fictional appearance. He is three months old.
Sad
to say, his gestation and birth were not easy. Even though I tried to make him
an integral part of the story, when I took new pages to writing group on Wednesday
nights, one member invariably asked, “Where’s Wyatt?” Sometimes the woman said,
“Doesn’t Wyatt need a clean diaper now?” I admitted it was difficult caring for
a child—even a fictional one—while solving the murders of  women’s liberation activists. Eventually after
many sessions like this, I internalized the voice of that group member. She
seemed to sit beside me as I typed on my PC. “What’s Wyatt doing now?” she
whispered in my ear.
A
man in our group once pounded his fist and asked, “Can’t you get rid of Wyatt?
Austin Starr doesn’t need to be a mother.” I replied, “Yes, she does. Her
pregnancy is announced at the end of book one, and she will not miscarry.” All
group members agreed we had come to comprehend more fully why so few children are found running through
murder mysteries.  
Determined
to retain baby Wyatt, I needed to ensure I didn’t make any missteps about him on the page. After all, my own child was now in his forties. What did I recall
about the day-to-day care of an infant? Visits with my two darling
grandchildren weren’t enough to refresh my mind sufficiently.
Houston writers Cathy (l.) and Emily
That’s
where two budding novelists came into the picture.  I met Cathy and Emily at a
previous writing group I attended. Cathy was married and had children who were
four and seven years old, and Emily’s children were even younger. As we all
became good friends, I saw how much they had to juggle in their lives. Viewing
their unending childcare duties refreshed my memories of how my own life had
once been that hectic too, when my son was small. Both women were kind enough
to read through my manuscript before I sent it to my editor and found a few details
to tweak that related to Austin Starr’s baby. For their diligence, Cathy and
Emily earned hearty thanks in the acknowledgement section of my book.
But
one last read-through was required. My college friend Regina had earned

Dr. Regina Miller

her
Ph.D. in child psychology, and she agreed to read my manuscript looking for
missteps too. In fact, she did triple duty. Her command of the Russian language
is better than mine so she checked my occasional uses of Russian. Similarly,
being of Jewish faith, she reviewed my references to several characters who
were Holocaust survivors. Regina is also gratefully thanked in my
acknowledgements section.

I
encourage you to read Rainy Day Women
and decide for yourself if Wyatt’s welfare is adequately tended to. Just keep this in
mind. The mystery takes place in August 1969—so long ago that no laws existed
to require the use of car seats for children. Austin Starr was following the
custom of the day—and would not have been considered negligent—when she cuddles
her son while she is a passenger in a car. Children have come a long way, baby!
*******
Kay Kendall is a long-time fan of historical novels and writes atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit and turbulence of the sixties. She is also an award-winning international PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband, three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to her bunnies, she loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. RAINY DAY WOMEN publishes on July 7–the second in her Austin Starr Mystery series. The E-book and paperback are available for pre-order now–for purchase on July 7th. The audio-book will be soon. 

A Sneak Peek at My New Mystery

/in /by
By Kay Kendall

Today
marks a red letter day for me. I sent the manuscript of my second Austin Starr
mystery to my publisher, Stairway Press of Seattle. Part of my celebration is
sharing with you a short excerpt from the book, RAINY DAY WOMEN, to be
published in June 2015.
The
tale is set in 1969, when my amateur sleuth Austin Starr is now the harried
young mother of a three-month-old son. Despite her family duties—to husband and
son—and the demands of her grad student career, she rushes to the aid of her
best friend, Larissa. She is a prime suspect in the murder of the leader of her
women’s liberation group in Vancouver. Soon another member of a women’s group
in Seattle is killed. Austin must find the real killer before her friend is
jailed for murder.
In
the excerpt below, Austin questions Mia, a friend of the dead women’s
liberation leader, Shona. I hope you dig
the sixties atmosphere, when in my book the Pacific Northwest is drenched in
blood, not rain, for a change.

 *******
 “I’m busting to
know what you think of him. Tell me.” I guess my voice got loud because two
passersby gawked at us.

Mia rolled her eyes to the heavens. “More questions.” A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Jack always said I was ballsy. Of course, I took that as a
compliment. He doesn’t like wimps. The problem with Jack and me, however, was
that we were competitors.”

“At
what?” I said.

“We
competed for Shona’s time, attention, and affection. Jack and I never talked
about it, but my sense is we both knew what was going on. He worked at getting
under my skin, and he succeeded. Jack belittled everything I did, called me
‘poor little rich girl.’ He was jealous of my wealthy family, but I wouldn’t let
Shona tell him how I’d been sexually abused.”

“Sounds
tricky for you to put up with. What happened when he succeeded in getting under
your skin. How did you react?”

She
ran her hands through her short hair and gazed across the street at the tall
trees on campus. I let her drown in her own thoughts for a while, hoping she’d
come out with something useful in solving the puzzle of two deaths. Or, at the
least, one—Shona’s.

After
a few moments, she turned to me and took off her sunglasses. “Once Jack and I
came to blows at a party, and I was the one who ended up throwing the first
punch. He was a drinker, and I did dope. In my experience, our two types don’t
mix well. That night he was ragging on me about being rich, and I had reached
my limit. I drew back my arm, aiming for his arrogant mug, but Shona jumped
between us. I pulled the punch, and it hit her shoulder instead, but not a hard
blow. Jack cackled in triumph and started pushing my buttons again, making
nasty taunts. With Shona there, I pulled my punches in general and just stomped
off.”

“Then
I guess you won’t have an unbiased answer to my next question.”

“Go
ahead,” she said. “Shoot.”

“Could
Jack have murdered Shona, and perhaps Bethany, too?”

“My
honest opinion?”

“Yes,
please.”

 “Jack could be the murderer.” Mia stopped and
put her sunglasses back on. “Absolutely, and there is no doubt in my mind.” 
*******
Kay Kendall set her debut novel, DESOLATION ROW–AN AUSTIN STARR
MYSTERY in 1968. The sequel is Rainy Day Women, will be out in
2015. Her amateur sleuth Austin Starr must prove her best
friend didn’t murder women’s liberation activists in Seattle and
Vancouver. A fan of historical mysteries, Kay wants to do for the 1960s what
novelist Jacqueline Winspear accomplishes for England in the 930s–write
atmospheric mysteries that capture the spirit of the age. Kay is also an
award-winning international PR executive who lives in Texas with her husband,
three house rabbits, and spaniel Wills. Terribly allergic to the bunnies, she
loves them anyway! Her book titles show she’s a Bob Dylan buff too. 
 *******