Tag Archive for: #mysteries

Is “Author Fitness” an Oxymoron?

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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.

Cameron Diaz and Women’s Liberation

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 by Kay Kendall                              

                                                                               

I don’t know about you, but I feel relieved. Various TV morning shows and
a plethora of online sources that follow celebrities’ doings say I can check
one thing off my worry list. Movie actress Cameron Diaz “is not going to die an
old maid.”
Really? In this day and age, wouldn’t you think that opinion was old hat?
What is this—the 1950s?
Lest you taunt me for being frivolous, I assure you my musings are quite serious
about the wedding of Ms. Diaz (42) and rocker Benji Madden (35). For the last
two years I’ve thought a good deal about how far we women have come, baby, as I
developed my mystery set against a women’s liberation background. Rainy Day Women takes place in 1969. Those
were early days in what is known now as Second Wave Feminism. (First Wave took
place in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, keying on legal issues,
primarily women’s right to vote).
From the vantage point of 2015, looking back at the sixties, you could assume
the women’s movement had changed many attitudes about appropriate behavior for
women. And then you slam into nasty offhand comments about poor Cameron Diaz. Believe me, this actress is no wallflower. Her dalliances with celebrity
boyfriends are the stuff of legend. To name only a few, there were heart throb
Justin Timberlake, Oscar winner Jared Leto, New York Yankee Alex Rodriguez, and
even P. Diddy  AKA Sean Combs.
With that dating background, Cameron Diaz needs a better commentary on
her marriage that took place on January 5. She deserves to be compared to
Warren Beatty, famous playboy who settled down with wife Annette Benning when
he was all of 55. They wed, had children, and are evidently living happily ever
after. When that happened, no one proclaimed he had been saved from a life of sad
bachelorhood.
This blog topic was thrust upon me when a longtime pal shared her ire
over media jabs at Ms. Diaz. My friend said, “A woman has many other ways to
fulfill herself or prove her worth than through marriage. Why hasn’t everyone
gotten beyond that narrow, old-fashioned opinion by now?”
Why indeed? Great question.
When I began writing Rainy Day
Women, my intent was to show the kinds of issues bedeviling women
45 years ago. They flooded into consciousness raising groups with senses of
despair over choices offered them in life—and then left those meetings
emboldened to follow their own paths. Despite being called unfeminine or
derelict of their familial duties, they set out to take control of their own
destinies.
Clearly there are still some people who want women to remain in
traditional roles no matter what. Female emancipation still scares many.
My husband likes to tell about the time he was traveling in Asia for
business and a male executive delivered a stunning view. “There are three
sexes in the world,” the man said. “There are men, women, and American women.”
My husband did not find that amusing. Rather, he shakes his head when he tells
the story, disturbed at such prejudice.
Okay then, I will now proudly place myself in that third category. If being
an American woman means I stand up for my rights as a person then, yes, I will
do that.
And as for Cameron Diaz, who has often gone on record as being uninterested
in marriage, I would tell her this: “Honey, you just go right on living as you
choose. Unmarried, married, or divorced—it is all up to you.” In short, you go,
girl! 
*******   

Kay Kendall set her
debut novel, DESOLATION ROW–AN AUSTIN STARR MYSTERY in 1968. The sequel RAINY DAY WOMEN (June 2015) shows
her amateur sleuth Austin Starr proving 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 1930s–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. 
 *******

Why Do I Keep on Writing?

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That’s a good question, one I must ask myself periodically.

I spend a good percentage of each day in front of my computer either working on a new book, editing, or promoting whichever book is out now.  And guess what? I don’t make much money. And what I do make is spent on promotion.

No, my publishers do not send me out on book tours, though they both do some promotion, the greater share is up to me. I’m the one who arranges my in-person events and does the majority of the on-line promotion.

So what do I get out of all this work?

1. I love to write. I enjoy visiting my characters and finding out what is going to happen to them next. The only way to do that is to write the next book. My writing is not confined to my novels, believe it or not, I get a kick out writing blog posts, like this one, and others where I guest.

2. I love meeting people and making new friends. Of course this happens at book events and at conferences and conventions. (Going to a mystery con is very much like attending a huge family reunion.) The Internet has given me the ability to make many new friends, many I’ve known now for a long time.

3. And of course my books have fans–fans that enjoy my books, have favorite characters, email me, read my newsletter and comment, fans that encourage me to write the next book.

4. Because of the conventions, conferences and places I’ve been invited to teach and speak, I’ve traveled many places I’d never have visited otherwise from the West Coast to the East Coast, many cities in-between, and Hawaii and Alaska.

5. I’ve learned how to do many things I might never have tried if it hadn’t been for my writing career from many computer skills to giving presentations and classes about books, writing and publishing. For ten years I taught writing for Writers Digest Schools, and I just recently retired from many years of being the program chair for the Public Safety Writers Association’s annual conference.

6. And most of all, I’ve met many challenges, grown as a writer and a person, and had a great time doing what I wanted to do.

Marilyn aka F. M. Meredith

Time Flies When You’re Having fun

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By Evelyn David

I love Mark Twain. I was thinking of writing a blog on
procrastination and found his thoughts on the matter: Never put off until
tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow.

Of course, finding clever quotations is one of my favorite
forms of procrastination, so there you have it.

When we first began The Stiletto Gang (five years next
January!), I wrote a blog about playing Free Cell, http://tinyurl.com/freecellblog. It
was all about procrastination, guilt, and the writer’s spirit.

You’ll be glad to know I haven’t played Free Cell in at
least three years.

But have you ever played Lexulous? It’s a Scrabble-type game
and I justify playing it by saying it improves my vocabulary. The problem is I
now know a plethora of new words (and by the way I knew the word plethora
before playing Lexulous) – but I have no idea what they mean. Za? Wo? Xi?

Anyway, I was feeling guilty again (and we all, by all I mean family,
friends, and even complete strangers, agree that Guilt is Marian’s middle name).
Tempus Fugit, etc.

But then I had this conversation with a friend which
suddenly made my playing Lexulous not only perfectly acceptable, but in fact,
part of the creative process. She explained that when she confronted her husband about his playing Backgammon online (and I do think that is a classier game than Lexulous), he said that while he plays, it may look like he’s wasting time, but actually it frees his mind to wander and see things in new, creative ways. She assured me that since I was a “creator,” I too had permission to play Lexulous for hours at a time.
Okay, she didn’t actually suggest that I could play for hours at a time — but it did give me the permission I needed to indulge in a little wordplay. It’s probably how War and Peace got written.
I then got to thinking about the larger issue. Why did I need permission in order to procrastinate? Was I worried that people would think I was a goof off? (And the answer is yes, I was worried about that). But generally speaking I’m not frustrated by the pace of my life. I get the important things done. Sure I’d like to write a new mystery in four weeks, but to a certain extent, I can’t push my whodunnit muse until she’s ready to move. Yes, sometimes it helps to put something down on paper, anything, and then revise. Sometimes it’s just the spark you need to get things underway. But often, you need time, uninterrupted time, to let your mind explore new, exciting ways to create devilish murder and mayhem.
So if you see me tapping away at my computer, it may indeed be the next Brianna or Maggie or Mac mystery — or it could be me letting my mind wander.
What’s your favorite form of procrastination?
Marian, the Northern half of Evelyn David 

Zoned for Murder – Kindle (Exclusive at Amazon this month)
Trade Paperback


Brianna Sullivan Mysteries – e-book series
I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Dog Days of Summer in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
The Holiday Spirit(s) of Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Undying Love in Lottawatah- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
A Haunting in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Lottawatah Twister – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Missing in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Good Grief in Lottawatah – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

The Ghosts of Lottawatah – trade paperback collection of the Brianna e-books
Book 1 – I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries (includes the first four Brianna e-books)
Book 2 – A Haunting in Lottawatah (includes the 5th, 6th, and 7th Brianna e-books)

Sullivan Investigations Mystery
Murder Off the Books Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Murder Takes the Cake Kindle – Nook – Smashwords – Trade Paperback
Riley Come Home (short story)- Kindle – Nook – Smashwords
Moonlighting at the Mall (short story) – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

Romances
Love Lessons – Kindle – Nook – Smashwords

Mysteries Fill the Bill

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Georgia Davidis Malone lives happily in a Philadelphia suburb with her fantastic husband and wonderful (most of the time) children. While having practiced as a civil litigator, Georgia now works as a chauffeur, housekeeper, laundry service and cook (a/k/a stay-at-home mom). The chauffeur part of the job enables her to indulge in her second love (after family), reading mystery novels. Thanks to her family for understanding that, sometimes, dinner is takeout because Georgia became so engrossed in a book (just reading it, not even writing it) that she lost track of time.

Donna Parker. Nancy Drew. Trixie Belden. These were the first mysteries I remember reading, teenage sleuths who lived lives filled with adventure and danger. These three sleuths provided a respite during the teenage angst years. It was to mystery that I escaped and mystery which still provides my solace. Whether legal, historical, English country house or humorous, police procedurals, female detectives, and romantic suspense, to name a few categories, mysteries are my “drug” of choice.

Mysteries assist in learning about life. Dame Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple lived in a small English village for all her “life” and yet she understood people better than many others who had traveled the world. According to Miss Marple (and I’m majorly paraphrasing here), one could see all manner of human behavior in a small village, which psychology could then be transferred to the world at large.

Mysteries provide resolution. In a mystery, particularly a “cozy” (my favorite type), the problems presented in life can be solved. At the end of a few hundred pages, all the loose ends are tied up and answers to all questions provided. If only all the problems of life could be so easily answered.

The books, especially those written during the Golden Age of mysteries (mostly the 1920s, ‘30’s and ‘40’s), provide puzzles that can be solved by the reader. In the mysteries I love, whether in a country mansion or an academic community, there is a finite list of suspects for whatever the crime happens to be. Like Sudoku and crossword puzzles, the mysteries exercise one’s mind but there is always an answer provided at the end (not necessarily found in real life, though).

Mysteries are a great place to escape, whether to revisit a place I’ve already been or to discover somewhere I’ve never visited. I’ve traveled the world through mysteries, to places I’ll probably never see (whether the Botswana of Alexander McCall Smith, the Africa of Suzanne Arruda or the Australia of Kerry Greenwood) and to places I’ve seen and love to visit time and time again (the England of Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, Anne Perry, G.M. Malliet or the Greece of Mary Stewart).

There are so many writers whom I adore reading, including the writers of the Stiletto Gang (two [Maggie Barbieri and the northern half of Evelyn David] of whom I was privileged to meet, at the 2009 Malice Domestic, and who are really fantastic people and authors). Some of my other favorites include the writers I’ve already mentioned, as well as other writers whom I met at Malice Domestic: Louise Penny (who is also a wonderful person and fantastic writer), Ann Parker (who is especially nice and very modest), Cathy Pickens (whom I saw on a panel and who had me and my sister in stitches for the entire time), Elaine Viets, Rhys Bowen, JoAnna Carl, Krista Davis, Dana Cameron, Mary Jane Maffini.

(And now a plug for Malice Domestic, which was an awesome experience. As I tell people, it was like the Hollywood of the mystery world — at least for me — and I was thrilled and agape the entire time at the lineup of authors who attended!)

There are then writers whom I wish I could have met but who were before my time: Georgette Heyer, Margery Allingham, Josephine Tey, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Erle Stanley Gardner, John Mortimer, and Rex Stout. Finally, there are those writers whom I still may have the chance to meet and, in the meantime, heartily enjoy and anticipate their books: M.C. Beaton, Elizabeth Peters, Jacqueline Winspear, Margit Liesche, and the list goes on and on.

In an age where the greatest mysteries, both big and small (whether Osama bin Laden will ever be caught, whether my house will ever approach the cleanliness of my mother’s) remain unsolved, it’s nice to be able to escape to a different life, but with a story that will always provide answers. Mysteries fill the bill perfectly.

Georgia Davidis Malone

Writing Long and Short

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Derringer Award winning author Earl Staggs has seen many of his short stories appear in magazines and anthologies. He served as Managing Editor of Futures Mystery Magazine and as President of the Short Mystery Fiction Society.

His novel MEMORY OF A MURDER featuring Adam Kingston is available at most bookstores or online at www.cmptp.com, Amazon and B&N.

For a signed copy of MEMORY OF A MURDER or for a free copy of the first Chapter, write him at earlstaggs@sbcglobal.net.

“What’s the difference between writing novels and short stories?”

“One’s bigger than the other.”

I don’t mean a novel is bigger only in number of pages. The story is bigger. There are more characters, more depth in the development of those characters, more plot twists and complications, and there are usually sub-plots. The emphasis is as much on the characters and how the plot impacts their lives as it is on the plot itself, sometimes more so.

To illustrate this, let’s take a simple plot and outline it first as a novel. Then we’ll come back and use the same plot as a short story.

Here’s the simple plot: Betty Brown, a wife and mother, is murdered in her home. There are no signs of robbery, no DNA evidence or fingerprints in the house other than family members, leaving no obvious motive or suspects. Homicide Detective Todd Taylor is assigned to the case.

Bill Brown, the victim’s husband, automatically becomes the primary suspect. During his investigation, Todd learns Bill and Betty had marital problems, and Betty was having an affair with a neighbor, Steve Smith. Todd now has two more suspects to investigate. Perhaps Betty wanted to end the affair, Steve objected, and in a fit of rage, killed her. Steve’s wife, Sandy, may have found out about the affair and killed Betty.

Bill and Betty’s sixteen-year-old daughter, Brittany, left home because of the tension between her parents. Todd feels Brittany has crucial information about the murder and finds her living with a rough gang, drinking, and on the way to ruining her life.

In Todd’s personal life, his wife talks about leaving him, and his ten-year-old son barely speaks to him at all. Both claim he spends too much time being a cop.

Now we have a cast of characters, Betty’s murder as the primary plot with three viable suspects, sub-plots involving the runaway daughter, the extramarital affair as well as Todd’s problems at home.

How does it all work out? With information provided by Brittany, Todd proves Bill Brown killed his wife Betty when he found out about the affair, resolving the main plot. But what about those sub-plots? Todd helps Brittany get her life back on track. Steve and Sandy Smith divorce. After revealing looks into the failed marriages of the Browns and the Smiths, Todd takes a hard look at his own and resolves to work harder at it. He’s also seen, with Brittany, how children get on the wrong path without proper role models at home, and commits to being a better father. The sub-plots have provided a character arc for Todd.

To develop the same plot as a short story, only the main character (Todd) will have any depth and the plot is less complex. In a short story, while there can be exceptions, there is usually one event requiring resolution (the crime), the path toward that resolution (the investigation), and the resolution itself (the solution).

We’ll toss out the sub-plots involving Steve and Sandy Smith and Brittany except to say Betty was having an affair with a neighbor. The only sub-plot we’ll keep is that Todd’s wife nags him about spending so much time at work.

In our short story, Todd proves Bill Brown killed his wife because of the affair. He also comes to terms with his own marital problems and promises to be a better husband.

So there we have the same plot developed as both a novel and a short story. Same killer, same victim, same resolution. The difference is. . .

. . .one’s bigger than the other.

Earl Staggs

Why Is This Night Different From All Other Nights?

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I’ve got a ton of people coming for dinner on Saturday night. It’s the start of Passover and we celebrate with a ritual meal called a Seder. This holiday marks the Biblical exodus of the Jews from Egypt. We sing songs, say prayers, and eat certain traditional foods (yes, this is the origin of matzoh ball soup).

Holiday preparations start a month in advance. I dig out huge pots, originally owned by my husband’s grandmother, source of generations of chicken soup. I can make the broth ahead and freeze it, but the matzoh balls must be made the day of the Seder, bubbling away to perfection as we chant the opening prayers. When the crowd is large, we switch the furniture in our dining room and living room, to have space for extra tables. My husband grumbles as he schleps the folding chairs from the basement, but beams when he looks across the full room at family and friends joining in song.

Seder means “order” in Hebrew and there is an order to the evening and to the Haggadah, the prayer book we use for the holiday. But “order” and even tradition don’t have to mean stagnant. Over the years, we’ve introduced new songs, tested new recipes for familiar foods, and researched subjects we take for granted looking for new insights. We’ve tripped over our tongues trying to make the traditional prayer book gender-neutral – and for some of us, we’ve shrugged our shoulders, read aloud the traditional masculine pronoun for God, confident that She would understand. At the end of the Seder, we leave feeling satisfied that we haven’t just paid lip service to ancient traditions, but instead have made them our own.

In an odd way – and I’ll grant that it may seem a stretch –there’s a similarity between being a mystery writer and preparing the Seder. There’s a well-known “order” to books, with the traditional elements of hero, murderer, red herrings, minor characters, place, setting. But how you mix these up, how you make these basics your own, is what defines you as a writer. I don’t want my books to be any more of a formula than my Seder.

Sometimes our choices, in cooking or writing, work perfectly, pleasing the palate and the imagination. And sometimes, they are abysmal failures and our only choice is to delete, rewrite, reseason, or dump in the garbage can. That’s okay too.

One of the traditional foods for Passover is Charoset, a sweet mixture of apples, walnuts, wine, and cinnamon, to represent the mortar used by Jewish slaves to build the Egyptian storehouses. It’s a family favorite and will be on the table in my mother’s cut glass bowl, as usual. But I’m also offering something new: Persian Charoset, made with dates, pistachio nuts, pomegranate, banana, cloves and cardamom. It’s a spicy alternative that hopefully will prompt discussion about history, ancestral connections, and the meaning behind these symbolic dishes.

So this week, in addition to the usual murder and mayhem I try to create, I’m polishing silver, moving furniture, cooking, cleaning, and getting ready for a crowd. I can’t wait.

Happy Holidays to all.

Evelyn David

Does the Dog Die?

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The Southern half of Evelyn David thought things had gone pretty well. It was her first library talk after the publication of Murder Off the Books. Good turnout, delicious refreshments, the group had laughed at the jokes and listened with interest to the creative process that goes into writing a murder mystery. She opened up the floor to questions.

“Can you promise me that no dogs or humans are killed in your book?”

Hmmmm.

Well, it was easy enough to promise the first. We guarantee that no animals were harmed in the creation of this mystery.

But as to the second? No vows could be made.

In fact, as a murder mystery, it seems to me that there is an implicit agreement between readers and the author: somebody will bite the dust. In Murder Off the Books, in fact, somebody kicks the bucket (or has the bucket kicked for them) in the first paragraph.

We decided to ignore the old showbiz warning: Never work with kids and dogs. Whiskey, the adorable and adored Irish wolfhound in our book, weighs 120 pounds, is six feet tall when she stands on her hind legs, and has never met a cheeseburger she didn’t enjoy. She instinctively knows the good guys from the bad guys, offers licks to those she loves, and growls to those who are dangerous. She brings warmth, goodness, and yes, humanity, to a book that explores the origins and effects of evil.

Animals in books serve many purposes – much like they do in our lives. Of course, Whiskey is a plot device. In Murder Off the Books, the hairy beast is a sounding board for our protagonist Mac Sullivan’s inner thoughts. Whiskey is also comic relief, our version of the gravedigger in Hamlet. She provides the audience with a laugh in the midst of murder and mayhem. And unlike the humans who surround her, Whiskey is clearly drawn with no shades of gray. Everybody, but bad guys, likes Whiskey.

But including a dog in the narrative is tricky. You have to appeal to readers without turning them off. I still can’t re-watch Old Yeller because while I understand the dramatic purpose of the dog’s death, I vividly recall the childhood trauma of hearing the rifle shot and understanding what had transpired off-screen. I’m perfectly fine with killing all the villains in whatever gruesome manner an author chooses – but anything with four legs must survive. Thank goodness Trusty in Lady and the Tramp had no more than a broken leg.

I recognize that over-crowded animal shelters and Michael Vick’s off-season “hobby” are clear evidence that, in real life, animals are frequently at risk. And yet, I can’t write fictional stories with that kind of storyline. It’s not that those books can’t be done with taste and care – but my imagination won’t let me travel that road.

Clio, the Irish terrier who shares my office while I write, fulfills many of the same roles that Whiskey does. She’s privy to my musings on how to create fictional havoc; she offers comfort when writer’s block descends; she’s always good for a laugh as she rolls on her back, four legs in the air, and waits for a tummy rub. Maybe that’s the reason why I can’t create stories where animals are harmed? It’s too close to home.

In the meantime, I’ll just re-read The Thin Man. I’ll visit speakeasies, sip martinis with Nick and Nora, and toss a treat to Asta. She’s a schnauzer with a nose for murder. I’d like to introduce her to Whiskey.

Evelyn David

Editor, My Editor!

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In my other life, I am an editor. Nothing so glamorous as mystery novels, I assure you—I’m a college textbook editor. I help authors craft the “story” of their book—or what will be the overall sales handle—help them lay out the organization, direct them toward what features to include and how to handle them, and give them gentle nudges towards completion of the manuscript along the way. I’m a cheerleader with a laptop and a knowledge of what sells in a particular market, say, like the book I’m working on now, the Introduction to Dinosaurs course. Not so different from what my editor does, with a difference: none of the authors with whom I work whine as much as I do.

On that we can rely, as the song goes.

My third novel, now called “Quick Study,” as opposed to “Book 3,” as it was known for most of last year, was due to my editor on December 31, 2007. As that date approached and I got wrapped up—literally—in the holiday hubbub, the ending of the novel got further and further away from my grasp. I have never missed a deadline. Never. So, I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote. I wrote when the ham was in the oven on Christmas Eve, mere minutes before my loud, Irish, family descended on us. I wrote after a serious bout of the stomach flu the day after Christmas. (I won’t go into details. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t pretty. And the kids get really, really terrified when Mommy makes scary noises.) I wrote while my kids played with their new Wii, and my husband—on holiday break from teaching—lounged downstairs, the most well-deserved session of lounging that you could imagine. (More in a future blog on why I will never be a teacher.) I wrote while the dog stared at me for hours on end as if to say, “Aren’t you done with the dang thing yet?”

It was painful.

At this point, I think it’s relevant to say that I used to be disparaging towards parents who treated pink eye like the bubonic plague. Until I got pink eye and awoke one morning only to find that I couldn’t open my eyes. And I used to scoff at writers who pronounced our profession “hard.” Until I became a writer who had deadlines. And now I have had my comeuppance.

You know what? Writing is hard. But I finished and I hit “send” on New Year’s Eve. Because I MAKE MY DEADLINES, DARN IT!

You’d think I’d be relieved. Yet, with each passing day, dread gnaws at my insides. Because, in my haste to end the novel, the best I could come with was: “And then they all died. THE END.”

That’s not really the end, but it’s pretty darn close.

So, I await my editor’s wise words, her gentle coaching, her therapeutic massaging of what I think are maybe the best 300,000 words of the lot, and not so great 102, 943 words in a four-hundred page manuscript.

And more than once while I wait, I’ll think, “they’re really not paying her enough” something I hope some of my authors say about me as I plow through pages and pages of dissertation on anything from reading skills to paleobiology.

It’s nice to dream, isn’t it?

Maggie Barbieri

Shoes Make the Writer

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I promise to circle back to shoes. This is the Stiletto Gang and since we’re women and we’re mystery writers, we were impressed with our little wordplay. I know nothing about stiletto knives, but as a shoe whore I’ve got plenty to say about stiletto heels.

But first, why another blog from a bunch of mystery writers?

Here’s the down and dirty, simple truth. Why not? We’re writers. Blogging is a way of touching base with fellow mystery fans; a way of promoting our books; and it’s what we do. We write (or play free cell).

I’ve been watching a lot of political debates lately and always sympathize with the candidate who has to give the first answer. Sure you get your point out early, but you just know that the other guy (gal) has an extra few minutes to figure out something cleverer to say.

So it was probably not the smartest thing to volunteer to write the first entry for The Stiletto Gang. But then it struck me that the best way to meet the challenge is to quote somebody smarter than me: Carolyn Hart.

At the last Malice Domestic, she explained why she wrote cozy mysteries. “In my books, the good guys always win.”

It was the proverbial light bulb moment. Now I knew why I loved writing mysteries. Mini-control freak that I am, writing who-dunnits gives me the opportunity to create a universe with the outcomes I want. In the world of Mac Sullivan, Rachel Brenner, and Whiskey, the adorable and adored Irish wolfhound, the good guys always prevail.

That doesn’t mean that I want a Pollyanna solving mysteries in her spare time. Sure there are days when I want life to be simple. I want some blessings that aren’t in disguise. But I want to create complex, multi-layered characters who encounter conflict and struggle not with black-and-white issues, but with all the shades of gray that life entails.

My good guys love coconut cream pie, and have the love handles to show for it. My heroines have ex-husbands who cheated on them, and they have footprints on their backs from being doormats. They have pasts that haunt them, futures that worry them, and bills to pay. Me too. The question isn’t whether evil exists in my world. It most certainly does. It’s just that I get to thwart it, one killer at a time.

Now, a tad late in the essay, let me say welcome to The Stiletto Gang blog. We’re four writers, although two of us share a name. Evelyn David has a split personality. I’m Marian, the Northern half, and I live in New York. Rhonda, the Southern half, lives in Oklahoma. Our first mystery is Murder Off the Books (Echelon, 2007). We’re frantically finishing the sequel, Murder Takes the Cake. Check out our web site, http://www.evelyndavid.com/, and discover the intriguing secret of how our book was written.

Tomorrow you’ll meet Marilyn Meredith. Marilyn is the author of the acclaimed Deputy Tempe Crabtree mystery series, as well as the Rocky Bluff P.D. series.

Wednesdays, Maggie Barbieri, author of the Allison Bergeron series (which has taken off like gangbusters), mans the helm.

Thursdays, Rhonda Dossett, the Southern half of Evelyn David, puts pen to paper (make that fingers to keyboard, but you get the drift.)

Fridays, we’d love to hear from you. Share your thoughts in a guest blog.

A promise is a promise. Let me circle back to stiletto heels. I’m a writer, so let’s be real. My default writing footwear is bedroom slippers. For dress-up, I wear a pair of black suede Merrell slip-ons. When I win an Edgar, I’ll wear stiletto heels. Promise.

My wish for you all: a world where the men are good looking; the women are brilliant and beautiful; the dogs are loyal and loving … and where the good guys always win.

Evelyn David