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Intoducing our new Femme Fatale, Dean James a/k/a Miranda James

We’re proud to introduce the newest addition to the Femmes Fatales, Dean James.  Dean has written under a number of names, and most recently, as Miranda James, has hit the NYT Best Seller List.  We had questions, and our Frere Fatale has answers.  Dean, take it away!

About pen names:

Toni:  Why did you go with a female pen name when your protagonist is male? And how do you handle people who don't realize Miranda is not a woman, but a fine-looking man instead?

Dean:  The decision to use a female pen name was partly marketing, since the marketing department believes that the primary audience for my series is women readers. They contend that women readers prefer to read cozier books written by women writers. I don't think that's necessarily true, but the main reason that I use a pseudonym is that my own name, Dean James, tends to get lost in cyberspace, thanks to a long-dead movie star. Miranda James is much easier to find on the internet, as were Jimmie Ruth Evans and Honor Hartman, two other pen names I used.

People who don't realize that Miranda is really a middle-aged man are sometimes taken aback, but thus far I've not had anyone react in a negative way to the revelation.
       
Donna:  One of my friends found common cause with a neighbor--they both love reading, and more to the point, both loved the Miranda James books. "Of course, I love all of his books," my friend said. "His books?" the neighbor repeated, "You mean her, right?"  My friend was concerned--she knew Miranda James was also Dean, but wasn't sure she was allowed to tell. Fortunately in this case, the woman was thrilled to find that a favorite author had written a whole bunch of other books under at least two other names. So I think my question to Dean is--we're allowed to tell who you really are, right? And do you find people who love one of your personas and hate one of the others? And what do you do then?

Dean:  Yes, you can tell who I really am. It's an open secret. Given that I've now written eighteen mysteries in three series and one sort-of series, I hear from readers who are often adamant about their preferences for one series over the others. So far no readers have told me they hate any of the series in preference to one they love, but perhaps they are being kind and not telling me. There are commonalities to the different series, I think, but there are enough differences to satisfy differing tastes.

On the book business:

Marcia:  Before you became a published mystery author, you wore several different hats -- scholar, teacher, bookseller. Tell us about them, and how they inform your fiction.

Dean:  Don't forget about librarian, which is the hat I currently wear (and that I share with you). :-) Having been a bookseller for over twenty-eight years is a decided bonus for me, because I have first-hand knowledge of the market for mysteries. I've seen trends come and go, and I generally know who's doing what in terms of series characters and types of plots. My scholarly interest in the history of the mystery genre feeds into that as well, because I love mysteries from the Golden Age as well as contemporary ones. It's an incredibly diverse genre, and I love that I can read so widely and never run out of interesting and entertaining books. Also I think that, having read several thousand mysteries, I have learned a lot about plotting and how to structure the traditional, cozy mystery. Finally, as a librarian in a medical library, I have access to wonderful resources when I need to research ways in which to kill the victims in my books.

Kris:  As a bookseller to a former bookseller, would you tell me how you'd like to see File M for Murder described in bookstore shelf-talker tags?

Dean:  I'd love to see File M for Murder, or indeed any of my current series, described as an entertaining cozy mystery novels suitable for readers ages twelve and up. Readers have responded enthusiastically to the two main characters, Charlie Harris and his Maine Coon cat Diesel, and I love it when reviewers and readers both comment on how likeable and endearing they find them both.

Elaine:  Tell one thing about you that would surprise your fans and readers.

Dean:  They might be surprised to find out that I'm really rather shy and that I find promoting my books difficult. I've learned to cope with public speaking and meeting people over the years, thanks to working in the bookstore for so long and from having taught so many classes, but every time I step in front of an audience I have to give myself a little pep talk.

On writing:

Charlaine:  You've written about a lot of different characters with different occupations. Do editors sometimes suggest these scenarios, or do you always come up with them yourself?

Dean:  Until I started writing the current series, the scenarios and characters were all of my own devising. My editor at Berkley, Michelle Vega, and the head of the Prime Crime imprint, Natalee Rosenstein, suggested that I try writing a series about a librarian and a cat. They both know of course that I'm a librarian and a cat-lover, so it wasn't that difficult to talk me into it. Everything else about the series, however, is my own invention. They provided the inspiration, and I developed it from there.

Hank:  Computer, yellow pad, typewriter...when you start to write (every day?), what are you thinking about?

Dean:  The actual writing I do on a computer. After all these years of using one I find that I simply can't write quickly enough in the old-fashioned way, by hand. I do make notes for the books, however, on pads of paper and in notebooks. Jotting down ideas is much easier that way. I don't write every day, except when a deadline is looming. With my full-time job, which requires many hours at the computer each day, I find that I'm too tired by the time I get home to spend any quality time writing on the computer (and I am not a morning person, as a general rule, so getting up early to write doesn't work for me). Thus I tend to do a lot of writing on the weekends, when I'm better rested and have time to relax and think. That doesn't mean, however, that my subconscious has been idle the preceding five days.

Mary:  I know you have, or have had, cats of your own at home. Have you ever had cats who lived where you worked? Ones who made you want to write a series set in the workplace?

Dean:  My two cats both passed away during the past ten months. They were both 17, so they lived long -- and, I'd like to think, happy -- lives. I've never had a cat that lived where I work, because unfortunately so many people are allergic. Otherwise it would certainly be fun to have a resident cat at Murder by the Book! Having had my two dear companions for 17 years taught me a lot about cats, and that helps in writing the current series, although neither of my cats was a Maine Coon.

Dana:  What writers make you *want* to write?  Is there one book (or author) that made you decide to be a crime writer?

Dean:  I'm a Southerner, and I think many Southerners love the story-telling tradition. Ever since I came to the realization that books are actually written by people, I wanted to write. Books have been so significant in my life and have given me so much that I wanted to be able to do that too. My favorite mystery writer is Elizabeth Peters who also writes as Barbara Michaels. I've spent countless hours enthralled by her books, many of which I've read multiple times. She has been there when I've needed to escape from reality and has never let me down. If I can give that same kind of pleasure and escape to my readers, then I will be happy and grateful for the chance to do so. If I had to choose just one book by Elizabeth Peters, it would have to be Crocodile on the Sandbank, the book that introduced Amelia Peabody. I can't remember how many times I've read it, but I've loved it -- and laughed all the way through it -- every time.

A Member of the Family

By Elaine Viets

 Last November, our cat Mystery took sick. At 5 a.m., we heard an awful glorping noise.

"Not the rug, kitty!" I cried, stumbling out of bed. I carried her to the tile, tried to soothe her, gave her a spoonful of hairball medicine and cleaned up the floor.

After several days, Don and I knew our cat did not have an ordinary problem. Mystery was bred to be a show cat. She’s a seven-year-old Chartreux, a French breed with smoky gray fur and copper eyes. Mystery bit a judge at her first cat show. She was spayed and sold to us. Her brother won a slew of blue ribbons.

Mystery – her official name is Columbleu’s Unsolved Mysterie – seemed happy as a house cat. She played with her pal Harry, a brown rescue tabby, and was a loving, sweet-natured cat.

 

But in November, Mystery quickly lost more than two pounds. Now she was 9 pounds, 10 ounces. Her fur was ratty and her bright copper eyes were dull as old pennies. The hairball medicine didn’t stop the horrible morning wake-up cry,  "Not the rug, kitty!"

Don and I took her to the vet. He conducted tests and put her on a special diet of venison. (You can’t believe what deer meat pet food costs. Think about farming Bambi. Seriously.)

Mystery improved briefly, then the problem started again. She lost more weight and felt like a sack of cat bones. She quit playing and starting sleeping in my hair at night. Back to the vet. There we met two weeping women bringing their cat to be put to sleep. "We can’t afford to keep her alive anymore," said one. Her friend cried on her shoulder.

The vet gave us sad news: Mystery might have cancer. He recommended she go to a referral hospital for more treatment. We knew it would be expensive, but she was still young. I couldn’t face the grief of those women in the waiting room. Not yet.

At Lauderdale Veterinary Specialists, the vet opened the caddy and let Mystery come out and explore her office while she talked to us.  She said the only way to know if Mystery had cancer was if she had abdominal exploratory surgery. If we were lucky, Mystery would have inflammatory bowel disease, which could be treated with prednisone.

Don and I signed the papers for the operation. I looked at the four-figure estimate and said, "There goes the new couch."

"She’s family," Don said.

Mystery was not human, but she was a big part of our household. Our other cat, Harry, howled all night while she was in the hospital. The house seemed empty without her.

Mystery came home with her belly, paw and neck shaved. She weighed 9.6 pounds.The LVS doctor said our cat had incurable intestinal cancer and recommended chemotherapy.

"No," I said, crying in her office. "We won’t subject her to the horrors of chemo. Better to let her go."

But cats and dogs tolerate chemo better than humans. LVS referred Mystery to the Animal Cancer Care Clinic in Ft. Lauderdale.

If I ever have cancer, call me Fluffy and check me into ACC. Those ailing animals are treated better than most people I knew with cancer.

I thought the clinic would be a sad place, but it’s cleaner and more cheerful than many hospitals. It looks like the lobby of a boutique hotel.

Our first visit was in December. Now we have a routine: A nurse meets us and takes Mystery. We fill out a short questionnaire about her health. Then we sit with other pet owners and play with their animals, or retreat to a quiet alcove. The staff gives us coffee, tea and cookies.

We spend less an hour each visit – and that includes Mystery’s exam, tests, a corticosteroid shot, and a personal chat with her oncologist. If we have problems between visits, an oncologist is on call 24/7.

Every three days, Don gives Mystery her chemo, Leukeran. The pill is so strong he has to wear gloves. She wolfs it down in a Pill Pocket, then has Cerenia in another Pill Pocket to settle her stomach.

Mystery’s incision has healed and her fur grew back. She’s in remission and weighs almost 14 pounds. She plays, purrs, chases Harry, and has a big appetite.

Since November, Don and I have spent more than $6,100 on Mystery’s care. We skip vacations and eat out maybe once a month. I don’t buy expensive clothes. Don didn’t get new carpet for his car. Mystery is our major luxury.

We can’t beat cancer, but we can buy time. For us, it’s worth the cost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Sir, With Love

by Hank Phillippi Ryan

I was thinking about Mr. Thornburg the other day. Mr Thornburg, if you're out there, thank you.

I walked into senior high school  English class that first semester, my last year before  college, not knowing  what to expect. Mr Thornburg  was incredibly cool looking, if I remember correctly  and sometimes I do,  in a Jimmy Stewart meets Clint Eastwood kind of way.

But in his teaching we all  decided he was more Clint  than Jimmy. ( Although we wouldn't have  known about Clint Eastwood then, but go with me here. Robert Taylor?)

 We were the honors English class, and I'll admit, all these years later, we were used to getting away with anything. Our previous English teachers, in this suburban, well, more exurban, part of Indianapolis  had not been the most difficult to please. We'd bang out essays about Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson, hardly giving it a thought, and get A's. Nothing memorable. It wasn't getting through.

 But when we came into Mr. Thornburg's class, on the blackboard he'd written 1798..  We shrugged.  Whatever, no idea what happened in 1798.  After saying hello, he told us this was the one date we should never forget, because it was the publication of The Lyrical Ballads, a book of poetry by Wordsworth and Coleridge, and thought of as the beginning of the English romantic movement in literature. He said this every day for a month,

 

Well, we were all--skeptical. So what.

 But soon after, we were reading The Faerie Queen  and comparing it to CS Lewis. We were reading Hamlet, and getting it, and  discussing whether Shakespeare had planned all the clues and themes and parallel constructions .  We'd memorize poetry--"...look on my works ye mighty and despair."

 Some of us-- began to change.

 We read short stories-- The  Lottery  and that scary one about the island where the bad guy hunted people. And one called Leningen Versus the Ants--is that right?

 He told us about dramatic irony, and rhetorical  devices and foreshadowing and continuity.  And analytical thinking. He fought us to think and compare and imagine.  We wore blank armbands on the anniversary of the Battle of Hastings in sympathy for the Anglo-Saxons.

  He introduced us to Edith Wharton -- but I admit he lost me on Ethan Frome.. Years later, when I tried Edith again and fell in love with everything she wrote, even Ethan, I thought about Mr. Thornburg and all the new worlds he'd opened for us.

 And, when it can to writing our "papers"-- is that what you called them-- He was tough! I mean-all that stuff  we'd dashed off in previous years so we could be finished with our homework and watch Twilight Zone, wasn't going to fly with Mr. Thornburg.

 I remember one kid handed in paper called ?"Hamlet.". I can still hear the derision in Mr Thornburg's voice. ""Oh, really," he said.  "And here I thought Shakespeare wrote that." He said a better title--remember this was senior high English--was something like "A brief exposition of the mouse theme in Hamlet."

 (Mr. Thornburg was not commercial.)

 And when we wrote something particularly egregiously awful, he'd give you a GUG. Yes. He had an actual rubber stamp with big bold font that said GUG. And when we got a GUG, that was not a good thing.  GUG meant--"this is so unbelievably awful that I have no words to describe it."

 We never leave high school, do we? Sometimes when I write something so egregiously awful that I have no words to describe it, I smile and say GUG, and then thank Mr. T for teaching me to be thoughtful and careful and clear--and to love the written word--and oh, to love writing.

I put him in the acknowledgments of my first mystery. Then thought-uh oh. What if he reads it with his GUG stamp?

 Did you have a teacher who made a difference? 

Using the good dishes

by Donna Andrews

I had a plan for this blog.  I was going to tell you about my horrible last few weeks and how I only managed to make my writing quota out of sheer determination. I was going to tell a few funny anecdotes to make it sound less like a whine.  It would have a been a good blog. I might write it sometime. 

But as I was sitting down to write it today, an  email came through on one of my lists.  One of those, "In case you were wondering why we haven't heard from so-and-so lately" emails.  The writer in question isn't someone I know--different genre--but she's about my age, a prolific writer, active in professional associations, an avid gardener.  And recently diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease.  She's already bedridden.

I know a little more about than ALS than I used to--maybe more than the average person--because some folks close to me recently lost a loved on to it.  It's insidious. You gradually lose control of all of your muscles. Everything we all take for granted gradually slips away.  Walking.  Writing. Typing.  Sitting up.  Talking.  Eating. Breathing. 

The one thing you don't lose is your mind. 

Okay, so maybe my last two weeks haven't been so bad.  Things were crazy; my schedule went to hell; stuff fell by the wayside.  That's life.  I had to struggle to get my quota done.  But I got it done.  The family schedule was crazy.  So I spent a lot of time with my nephews.  The house is a mess.  So I'll clean it eventually. 

I wish it didn't take someone else's misfortune to jar me out of my feeling of being put upon by life and make me realize that on the whole, life hasn't been that bad lately.

In fact, it's been pretty good, if a bit busy. The workmen finished the renovation work on my house last week, and several very particular friends think the place looks quite nice.  Booklist gave my upcoming book (Some Like It Hawk) a good review.  I got to see one of my nephews break a board in Tae Kwon Do.  I helped the other one through his first day with braces.  I went one for three at bat in the sandlot game to celebrate the end of their baseball season (and since one of the two outs was a pop fly, and I was batting with a stickball, I far exceeded my own expectations). I'm on schedule with my draft.  My roses are blooming like crazy, along with petunias, heliotrope, and lavender.  And what do you know? The squirrels didn't dig up all the calla lilies.  My editor sent me a cool nonfiction book he'd published--Beautiful Chickens, full of studio portraits of poultry--because he was savvy enough to realize I'd enjoy it--and it actually turned out to be useful for a couple of scenes I wrote this week. And he approved my new title, which in case I haven't mentioned it is The Hen of the Baskervilles.  The family is planning a quiet dinner Sunday or Monday to help Mom celebrate her 90th birthday.  I remembered to get some snacks for tomorrow's critique group meeting. I should stop and appreciate stuff like this more often.

The person who shared the dire news about our fellow writer ended her email by encouraging all of us to "use the good dishes . . . what are you waiting for?"

Advice I'm going to take to heart.   Not sure how.  Not just by literally serving tomorrow's fruits and cheeses on beautiful plates that require hand washing--though that's a thought. And sending a few donations to good causes is another thought--I will probably add the ALS Foundation, in honor of that fellow writer.  But after that, I need to do some pondering. What else would enrich my life in some small or even big way if I went ahead and did it instead of putting it off till that less busy, more practical and convenient time that may never come?

Anyone else have any suggestions on how we can all spend a little more time using the good dishes?

Making Other Plans

by Toni L.P. Kelner

 

On Monday, June 18th, my husband Steve and I celebrated our 24th anniversary. That is, as everyone knows, the Tanzanite Anniversary.

To celebrate, we left the girls at home while we went out for a nice dinner, and we talked about how it didn't seem as if we'd been married two dozen years. We talked about the wedding, too, and how we'd changed and how the family had grown. Then we remembered the plans we had for our lives back in 1988.

First off, since Steve was destined for academia, obviously I was going to continue on as our primary wage earner, presumably still as a technical writer. We were going to have kids, two or three. We woug both continue to work, but since Steve's job would be more flexible, obviously he would be the primary caregiver. I forget what other "obvious" plans we had--maybe they actually came true.

What did happen was this. Steve never did go into academia--he was working as a management consultant even before he finished his doctorate in psychology. While I continued to work as a tech writer until I got pregnant, by the time I quit that job, Steve was by far the big money dawg in the house. We did have two kids, but I'm a stay-at-home parent with them while I write fulltime.

Now we did plan for me to write. That predated the marriage, in fact. I'd been a fan of science fiction for years, so obviously, that was what I was going to write, with maybe some medieval fantasy on the side. My idols were Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov,and Andre Norton. But what I turned out to be good at was mystery writing. Though I eventually branched into urban fantasy, and have even joined Science Fiction Writers of America on the strength of those stories, I'd be stretching a point to claim that I'm a science fiction writer.

So I think it's fair to say that very little of my life has gone according to plan. Which makes me one of the luckiest people on earth. I have loved staying home with the kids, despite the drive time requirements, and cannot believe that I actually get to stay home and write every day. I do not miss that day job at all. As for Steve, I'm convinced that the buisness world is the right place for him and that he would have been incredibly frustrated to be living in the halls of academe. Despite our plans, we are are in exactly the right place.

Then again, maybe it wasn't despite our plans--maybe it was because of them. Our daughter Maggie is looking at colleges and trying to decide what to do with her life. This is a toughie for anybody, let along a high school student. So what I've told her is that it's better to have a direction, any direction, as long as you're willing to change it when circumstances change, or when you change, or just because you get a new idea. That's what Steve and I have done, which is why where we are now is better than where we'd planned to be. 

So as Steve and I start on our next twenty-four years together, we're making new plans for our lives and our daughters. Some of those plans may even come true, but probably not the obvious ones. Come back in 2036 and I'll tell you how things have worked out.

In the meantime, let me take this opportunity to say Happy Anniversary to Steve, without whom I would have missed the absolute best things in my life. Twenty-four years? I think that's a good start.

 

 

Writing Classes!

by Kris Neri

Next to my own writing, I love teaching writing the best. I love to pass along to others what I’ve learned about this craft. While nothing is more gratifying than when I hear that one of my students has had a book accepted for publication, a close second comes when I see newer writers make gains in their abilities and their confidence.

I mostly teach online classes these days. While I miss that face-to-face interaction of in-person classes, by teaching online, I get to interact with students from around the world, and that’s been really fun, too. Love those British expressions and spellings!

I have a couple of great online classes coming up this summer:

Through the Writers’ Program of the UCLA Extension School, I’ll be offering WRITING THE CRIME NOVEL: INTERMEDIATE WORKSHOP. Students are always asking for this class, and I’m thrilled that the Writers’ Program wants to offer it again. This intensive workshop provides in-depth feedback, along with advanced lectures on characterization, structure, point-of-view, dialogue, and other craft issues; in-depth discussions are always tailored to meet individual writing needs.

WRITING THE CRIME NOVEL: INTERMEDIATE WORKSHOP will begin on Wednesday, July 4 and run for ten weeks. You can read more about it here:

https://www.uclaextension.edu/r/Course.aspx?reg=Y3514

Not long thereafter, I’ll also be starting a mystery & thriller characterization class just for the Guppy Chapter of Sisters in Crime. The Guppies, which stands for Great Unpublished, are a wonderfully energized, supportive group of writers, and I really enjoy my interactions with them.

In this 3 ½ week class, which starts on July 8, we’ll be creating rich, textured characters. Here’s a description of the course:

Creating Characters that Live off the Page - While most mystery readers do care about the quality of the mystery, many say it's the characters that keep them turning the pages, just it's the characters that make them to keep returning to a series. Today's crime novels are more character-driven than those of old, so it's essential that your characters be fully fleshed out, with hidden pockets and fascinating paradoxes that readers can relate to —characters that live off the page.  We’ll look at both the basics of character development, as well as advanced characterization, along with the character hierarchy common to mysteries. Students will have the opportunity to develop three characters (ideally from their current crime WIP or a planned mystery or thriller), and receive instructor feedback and suggestions.

For this class, it’s necessary to belong to both Sisters in Crime and the Guppy Chapter. For more information, email Elaine Douts: [email protected].

For those of you new to writing, welcome to the writing continuum! Make you reap great rewards on your journey. You'll find some writing tips on my website, which may help you.

Wishing all of you great advancements in your writing careers. There are readers out here waiting for you.

Why topiary camels are good for you

by Dana

I was on vacation this past week, home just this minute.  We went to Newport, RI, which I'd never seen before.  There was lots of walking along the ocean, a tour of a “cottage,” and some nice meals.  A colonial-era church one day (Trinity); a colonial-era synagogue (Tuoro) the next.  A trip to a cool museum in Providence.  We saw Doris Duke's summer home (mansion), Rough Point, and it had topiary camels (below)!  Real low drag, but high interest, which was absolutely called for. 

Take it from me:  relaxing take practice.  It demands discipline.  My agent, Josh Getzler, discussed this idea (here), and he's right.  I'm still learning this lesson, that's why I'm sharing it with you.  

A decade or two ago, we were lucky enough to go to Moorea, French Polynesia.  We stayed in a thatched hut over the water.  Seriously.  Nothing to do but lie around and...read.  Doze.  Swim.  We took two tours of the island (one by four-by-four, one on a 33-meter yacht—which they let me steer; I was pretty good!), a sandbar picnic.  That's it.  For two weeks.  It sounds great, and it was, but there was a learning curve.

We both were used to email and 24-hour news cycles (this trip was pre-Internet, and pre-digital camera), lots of writing and researching in our work, lots of stimulus.  But at our hotel there was a television only in the lobby, mostly tuned to French-language cartoons for the owners' kids, and a payphone.  In our room, there was no television, no phone, no radio, no air-conditioning, no computer.  No CLOCKS. 

The first two days were great—we were getting over jetlag and about twenty-two hours of flying.  Days three and four, however, we started jonesing for more outside input.  It was weird, with actual pacing and muttering.  We should be DOING something—but what?  There should be more information coming in, but we could only hear the surf and the chickens and palm trees.  The very rare jeep or moped, way out on the road. 

Two more days until we figured it out.  We had to give in.  We'd each pick out a book and settle down to read.  Napping, with the occasional swim.  Feeding the fish off the lanai with fragments of that morning's croissant.  The power would go off periodically, but they had a generator in the bar (genius!).  Cocktail hour started when you heard drums across the lagoon.  Disturbing the first time (“cannibals!”), it became a delight, one of our only time markers besides sunrise and sunset.

By the end of the second week, I swore they'd have to drag me kicking and screaming to get me off the island.  Mr. G (my husband, not my agent) only convinced me to leave by saying the cats would pine.  Changing planes in California was a shock:  Noise!  People!  Busy-ness!  Someone asked me what time it was; I said, quite honestly, I had no idea what day it was.

There was a great lesson there:  SURRENDER, DOROTHY!

I've worked through vacations before, and I'll try my very best never, ever to do it again.  I told myself I could handle it, that I'll just do a little, but even taking notes on a manuscript on a beach changes the whole tenor of the time.  It's not a break, until you commit to changing your headspace, just a little.  Cut down on screen time, cut down or eliminate email and web-surfing.  Go see something that has nothing to do with your usual  routine.  Turn off the news. 

At other times, we've spent our vacation time at home, but we've learned to be very jealous of it and worked hard (yes, it's a paradox) to keep it vacation-y.  No work.  Scheduled outings to museums or hikes.  Preparing special meals or going out.  Donuts instead of oatmeal.  Easy on the computers.  It can be done.

My advice to you:  recharge those batteries when you can, at home or away.  You'll be happier when you have to go back to work and your head is full of new ideas and clear of cobwebs.

P.S.  I learned Monday my Anna Hoyt colonial noir story "Disarming," in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, was nominated for an Anthony.  Yesterday, I learned it was also up for a Macavity award; I've linked so you can find the complete slate of nominees.  This has been an astonishing week, and I'd like to thank EVERYONE for their support and these honors!  See you at Bouchercon in October!

Intoducing Our New Femme Fatale, Marcia Talley

We’re proud to introduce our new Femme Fatale, Marcia Talley. Marcia is not only an award-winning mystery writer, she’s also a goddess. She’ll tell you all about it in her interview. Welcome, Marcia!

 

 (1) Were you always a mystery writer? If not, when did you start writing?

 

 

Honestly, I can't remember a time when I wasn't writing.  My first mystery "novel" came out in the early fifties -- typed by my father, but written and illustrated by me -- featuring a magic elf. 

Later, like most girls of my generation, I devoured Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames, Judy Bolton and yes, even The Bobbsey Twins, series novels that came out of the Stratemeyer Syndicate beginning around 1929.  In my teens, I graduated to Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, Marjorie Allingham, Dorothy L Sayers, Josephine Tey, Daphne DuMaurier and other queens of the golden age of mystery, i.e. the period between the two World Wars.  And I haven't looked back.  I took up writing seriously in the mid-1980s.  In the early 1990s, I was accepted at the Sewanee Writers' Conference (founded by the estate of Tennessee Williams at the University of the South) and at Bread Loaf where I work-shopped what later became Sing It To Her Bones.  My mentor at Sewanee was National Book Award-winner, John Casey.  During our one-on-one session, he told me, "When I read your first chapter, I knew I was in the hands of a born story-teller.  But the rest of the novel is crap."  After a stunned silence (of about six months!) I took his advice.  Threw away everything but the first chapter and began again.  That novel won the Malice Domestic Grant for Unpublished Writers, which quickly gained me an agent and a 3-book deal with Bantam, Dell.  Whoa!  Still pinching myself.

 

(2) Why mysteries? Do you enjoy killing people for a living?

Why mysteries? Because there were a lot of people in my life who needed to die.  Seriously, my mother was an avid mystery fan, and a charter subscriber to Ellery Queen's Mystery magazine, so mysteries were always around the house. I was also a great fan of that old television show, Alfred Hitchcock Presents and am grateful that although it aired late on a Sunday night (a school night, gasp!) I was allowed to stay up to watch it.

In addition to 11 novels, I've written more than a dozen short stories, and I think my fondness for quirky endings can be traced directly to Mr. Hitchcock.  A recent story, "Can You Hear Me Now" appeared in TWO OF THE DEADLIEST: NEW TALES OF LUST GREED AND MURDER BY OUTSTANDING WOMEN OF MYSTERY, edited by Elizabeth George.  The story was inspired by a train trip to NY where the guy sitting next to me was up to some funny business on his cell phone.  By the time we reached NY City, I knew that he had to die, and exactly how to do it!  Who doesn't like to see a rude cell phone user get his comeuppance?

But primarily, I'm interested in relationships, particularly family relationships. I introduce a cast of characters, throw in a monkey wrench, watch to see what happens, and then work the puzzle out. By the end of the book, all the loose ends are tied up, but the characters have changed, often becoming stronger for what they've gone through.

 

(3) What is it about mysteries that seem to remain timeless? Why do readers embrace them?

 

 

Life isn't always fair; good doesn't always triumph over evil; the bad guys sometimes get away with it.  Within the confines of a mystery novel, it's MY world and I can set things right. I think that's why "revenge" stories are particularly popular. For me, writing mysteries is cheaper than a therapist. I've bumped off a former boss, an ex-brother-in-law, the bitch who married my father after my mother died, and my husband (three times), a fact of which he's surprisingly proud.

 

(4) Tell us about your character, Hannah Ives.

 

 

When we first meet Hannah, she's recently finished chemotherapy for breast cancer and is recuperating on her sister-in-law's farm in southern Maryland while waiting for her hair to grow out.  She's been downsized from her job in Washington, DC and is feeling unlovely and unloved.  While on a walk with the family dog, her hat tumbles into a well.  Hannah goes fishing for it and discovers the body of a young girl who had disappeared about five years previously.  Suddenly Hannah has something to distract her from her own personal problems -- finding a murderer.  Hannah's happily married to Paul, a math professor at the U.S. Naval Academy, and lives with him near the Academy on Prince George Street in Annapolis.  She has a grown daughter from whom she's estranged, but by the end of the sixth book in the series, Emily and her husband, Dante, are running a successful health spa and have three young children.  Hannah has two sisters, Ruth (a New Age shop owner and feng shui practitioner) and Georgina who has four kids and lives in Baltimore with a rather boring CPA husband. 

Since I am a cancer survivor, too, people often ask me, "Are you Hannah?" Hannah is the woman I would like to be, I guess.  Younger, prettier, thinner, funnier and much braver than I would ever be. People tell me that they really identify with Hannah. She has a legion of fans who are cancer survivors. They love her upbeat attitude and wry sense of humor. "Believe it or not," Hannah says at one point, "there are advantages to having had cancer. I get my mammograms at half price."

 

(5) In addition to your novels, you're an accomplished short story writer.  One of your short story characters is very different from Hannah. Tell us about Marjorie Ann.

 

 

Oh, I just LOVE Marjorie Ann.  Poor girl has SUCH bad luck with men.  [grin]  Strangely, Marjorie Ann came to me out of the blue on a train trip.  Earlier that morning I'd had a fight with my husband about how much butter he was slathering on his pancakes and as the train pulled out of Penn Station in New York, I guess I was still stewing about our spat.  Marjorie Ann simply materialized in my head and began talking to me.  I started writing so furiously that I missed my stop at BWI and ended up at Union Station in Washington, DC.  By then, however, "With Love, Marjorie Ann" was finished.  It was my first published short story, and won an Agatha nomination.  Two more Marjorie Ann stories followed, "Driven to Distraction" and "Can You Hear Me Now?"

 

(6) Any chance we'll see her in a novel?

 

 

I don't think so.  Marjorie Ann prefers the small stage.  But I'm working on Marjorie Ann's 4th short story right now.  It's called "A Fine New York Whine."

 

(7) You've won several awards. Tell us about them.

 

 

I was so honored to win my first Agatha Award for a short story, "Too Many Cooks," in a dead tie with Margaret Maron – one of my idols! -- who graciously allowed me to keep the teapot while she waited to receive hers by mail. 

That story also won the Anthony Award and is included in a couple of "best of" mystery collections.  It's a retelling of the story of Macbeth, but from the viewpoint of the three witches.  I also received an Agatha for "Driven to Distraction," which was short-listed for an Anthony.  My second novel, Occasion of Revenge, won the Romantic Times Best Contemporary Mystery award the year it came out.  I travelled to Orlando to pick up that award, and it was my first experience with a Romantic Times conference and its "best cover model" competition.  A surreal experience.

 

(8) You're the only Femme who's a goddess. How did that happen?

 

 

Ah, yes.  I keep telling my husband I'm a goddess, but somehow I still have to do the dishes!  I served on the Board of Sisters in Crime for five years, the last year as the organization's national President.  All past-presidents of Sisters in Crime – going back to Sara Paretsky twenty-five years ago -- are called goddesses, and I have a bracelet from Tiffany to prove it!

 

(9) What do you do when you're not writing mysteries?

 

 

I enjoy reading, knitting and sailing.  My husband and I keep an antique sailboat in the Abacos (Bahamas) and we visit it for several months out of every year. I love the life of the cruising sailor.  If you read my novel Without a Grave, it will give you some idea of what I find so attractive about the back-to-basics life-style, where everything I own can be fit into a pillowcase, and daily decisions are made on such basic elements as the wind and the tides.

 

(10) Are you married? Any children?

 

 

I've been married for [mumble mumble] years to my college sweetheart, John Barry Talley, who I met while working on the dish crew in a college dining room at Oberlin College.  For 36 years Barry was Director of Musical Activities at the U.S. Naval Academy.  We have two daughters.  Laura is a patent/trademark attorney for a large law firm in Washington, D.C. and is married to David, a lead historian at the U.S. Department of State.  Sarah is a master gardener and lives in Chesapeake, Virginia.  She’s married to Jon, a U.S. Navy physician.  Each of my daughters has two sons and a daughter, so I have six grandchildren to spoil.  Every summer, I welcome them to my house in Annapolis for "Camp Grandma."  Swimming at the neighborhood pool, eating junk food, playing computer games, staying up too late ... what's not to like?

 

(11) Tell us something that few people know about you.

 

 

My father was a career officer in the U.S. Marine Corps, so we moved around a lot, never living more than two or three years in a single place.  In third grade, I attended three different elementary schools.  My dad’s parents were missionaries in China for almost fifty years so he spoke, read and wrote Chinese like a native. Naturally, we were always getting shipped overseas.  I lived in Tsingtao for several years (where they make the beer of the same name) and I went to high school in Taipei, Taiwan. Travelling is still in my blood.  I spend the coldest months of the year in the Bahamas, and every August I go to Oxford, England for the St Hilda's Crime and Mystery Weekend, followed by a retreat to a B&B in Somerset, near Bath.

 

(12) What can we expect next from Marcia Talley?

 

 

My publisher has said they'd like to see a couple of more Hannah Ives mysteries, so I'm working on the 12th one now.  It's called Dark Passage, and is set on a luxury cruise liner.  Research can be hell, ya know?

Clockwork Knockouts

by Mary Saums  

I hate romance. In books, I mean, if it's too much a part of the story. When the whole book is about a romantic relationship, there's nothing to grab on to, for me anyway, or to look forward to. 

I prefer regular novels with their large story or stories, characters who play big parts in those stories, with romantic relationships a part of each character's story. That's a real book.

That's what I look for in the bookstore. Not those book covers with flames and hearts around hot bare-chested guys, like medieval lairds, smiling cowboys, secret service agents, and rowdy chemistry professors.

No, I don't look for those. I don't have to since I already own a number of medieval laird, cowboy, time-traveling body-builder and the like romantic, uh, entertainments.

But what I want to talk about today is the huge accomplishment of successfully merging "real" novels, romance novels and YA novels. 

Something about Cassandra Clare's book Clockwork Angel grabbed my attention when it came out in hardback a year or so ago. I picked it up and gave it a once over every time I passed it in the bookstores, Walmart or Target. 

 

 

The sight of Big Ben got me, I suspect. And it's an interesting cover. London, Victorian times, paranormal aspects - all great. But two big downers - it's written for young adults and it's a romance. Even despite the outstanding reviews, I waited. Silly me.

The young man on the cover is Will Herondale one of the heroes who is part Nephilim, a descendant of a human and an angel, and trained as a Shadow Hunter.  

 

Next came Clockwork Prince.

 

Another great cover, this time I believe the background is of a castle in Yorkshire that figures into the plot. When it arrived in the stores, I knew I had to give the series a try in spite of my anti-romance, anti-teen book preferences. Still I had some doubts.

Instead of buying, I decided to try them on audiobooks through the library first. I'm so glad I did. They are read by two narrators, Ed Westwick and Heather Lind, who both do excellent jobs.

This cover shows Jem, another Shadow Hunter and Will's closest friend.

 

Clockwork Princess will be the third in the series and is expected to come out in 2013.

 

Can I wait that long???

I don't think so. Clare has done such a magnificent job in intertwining the lives of Will, Jem and Tessa, the third side of the triangle and the young woman on the cover of this book. I cannot wait to see how they defeat the bad guys. Will they all survive? Will enough survive to have a wedding?

What amazes me is how Clare shows these kids struggling as young adults. I love how she is teaching young readers to grow through these characters. Another thing I like, she begins each chapter with snippets of English romantic poetry and intersperses it through the book, too. So she's teaching our pre-teens and teens to appreciate the music of poetry, and the 'love-y' part of love. 

The romance between the characters feels realistic. Everything feels authentic. Am I just a novice here? Are all YA authors so adept with romance and history and everything else? Because I'm blown away by Cassandra Clare's vision and her writing skill.

I've requested the first audiobook of another series, City of Bones. Maybe that will hold me over until Clockwork Princess comes out!

 

CELEBRATION DAY

A friend of mine, Leigh Evans, just told me that she was holding the Arc of her first book in her hand. “There’s my brain, out there for everyone to see,” she told me. It was both terrifying and intensely exciting, like going over Niagara Falls – with or without a barrel.
Even after three decades, I can remember the moment I experienced that thrill for myself. But I never thought of my first book, “Sweet and Deadly,” as a piece of my brain; I used the more conventional image of a baby, my baby. Leigh’s “brain” simile is much more interesting.
Nothing is closer to psychoanalysis than writing a book. There are your foibles and your fears, your persistent unfinished business, your pictures of what constitute happiness.
Since I’ve written quite a few novels (now that I’m thinking about it), I wonder what people know about me that I don’t know. I’ve gotten surprised a time or two. At one signing, a reader said, “You really have a problem with brothers, don’t you?” I was surprised and started to deny it, when I realized that all the brothers in my book were problematical in some respect. Some loved their sisters too much, some were so self-involved their sisters hardly registered . . . huh. I felt uncomfortable as I wondered what I’d been saying about the distant relationship I had with my older brother, who’s been dead and gone for many years.
There’ve been occasions I changed the plotline or characters in a book because I realized I was building them according to a pattern that was pleasing to my brain; a recurring pattern, that echoed somewhere in my psyche.
So thanks, Leigh, for giving a different way to look at my work. There are my brains, people!
As I told Leigh, “Let’s hope members of the reading public are all zombies.”

Charlaine Harris
P.S. Since I stole Leigh’s line, let me just tell you all that her book, out in December 2012, is “The Trouble With Fate.”