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Breakfast at Tiffany's

Elaine Viets

 "Tiffany’s Honor Library – Borrow, Return, Steal, Donate"

 That sign is on the wall in one of my favorite grease spots, Tiffany’s Original Diner in Maplewood, Mo. The diner really does have a small free library on the wall across from the grill.

My Josie Marcus Mystery Shopper mysteries are set in Maplewood, a quirky redbrick suburb of St. Louis that’s more than a hundred years old. I had to tell my readers about Tiffany’s Original Diner in A Dog Gone Murder, my tenth Josie Marcus mystery, debuting Tuesday.

 
  In A Dog Gone Murder, Josie Marcus investigates dog daycare, including Uncle Bob’s Doggy Day Camp, known for its commercials featuring the dog’s best friend, Uncle Bob. But Josie mystery-shops, she learns how Uncle Bob acts when the cameras are off. Her mother’s new tenant, Frank, who works for Uncle Bob, plans to quit after seeing the man’s true nature. But before he gets the chance, Bob is murdered, and Frank is on his way from the doghouse to the big house.

The police are looking for Frank, and he and Josie’s mother hide out at  Tiffany’s Original Diner. Here’s how A Dog Gone Murder describes that part of town:

  "That stretch of Manchester Road was Maplewood’s downtown. The two story flat-fronted redbrick shopping district was lined with quirky restaurants and stores, from Airedale Antics for pet lovers, to Kakao Chocolate, to the Book House bookstore.

"Tiffany’s Original Diner was an old school twenty-four-hour diner that served awesome grease. Everything cooked on the grill was bacon flavored, whether customers ordered it or not. Josie thought bacon belonged on all diner food.

"Tiffany’s smelled of lightly fried grease and coffee. The layout was classic diner: a long, narrow room with a counter and red vinyl-and-chrome stools. All the seats were filled and more hungry people were waiting."

Before I had the police barge into my book and arrest someone in a real Maplewood dining establishment, it was only polite to ask Tiffany’s Diner if that was okay. So I stopped by for a late night dinner – two eggs and wheat toast.

I explained my novel plan to the cook at the grill and the waitress behind the counter. "Arrest me!" the cook said. "Use my name."

"You can use my name," said the waitress. Stephanie had blonde hair and a pierced lip. For someone who worked in a diner, she was model slim. "Arrest me!"

"Sorry," I said, "but I have to arrest Frank, the guy in A Dog Gone Murder."

My eggs and toast arrived, swimming in butter. Yum. I discussed hot sauce with a Canadian couple at the end of the counter. And I admired the sign on the wall: "You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning!" Not only does Tiffany’s have its own library, it also has Rum Chata milkshakes, and there’s a shelf of liquor over the cash register.

 

Did I say I loved this place?

By the time I ate dinner, the staff agreed that Frank Hyzy could be arrested at the Tiffany Diner.

Then I got the bill – $2.25.

Did I say I liked this place?

                                            ****

A Dog Gone Murder debuts Tuesday. Order your copy from the  Book House,7352 Manchester Rd., Maplewood, 314-968-4491, and other independent bookstores. Also available at Barnes & Noble and Amazon.com as an e-book and a paperback.

Big Changes

I moved to Houston, Texas, in 1981 to attend graduate school at Rice University. I didn't expect I would remain in Houston once I earned my degree. To my great surprise, however, I ended up living there for thirty-three years. I was happy there for a long time, but a few years ago I started feeling a bit restless. I have wonderful friends in Houston, but my family are mostly in Mississippi. Recently, on visits to family, I started feeling a strong pull back to my roots.

Gradually the idea grew that perhaps I should move back to Mississippi. I kept an eye out for job opportunities, but they were few and far between. There really was no sense of urgency about it, but it was something I thought about increasingly. Then the universe stepped in, in the form of a layoff, and suddenly I had a truly compelling reason to find a new job.

Ten months after I was laid off, I found myself with the perfect opportunity to move back to Mississippi. I found a job that fit my experience and qualifications perfectly. I interviewed for the job, received an offer the very next day, and four weeks to the day that I interviewed, I started work at the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson.

Leaving my friends in Houston was rough, but they all supported me in my decision. The transition is interesting so far, by my two cats and I are settling in to our new (probably temporary) living space. My commute to work is short, and traffic can be a bit heavy at times, but nothing like traffic in Houston. I am close to family now, which is important, and I am back smack-dab in the middle of the culture I have been writing about in my fiction for the past decade.

I am not a person who embraces change for the sake of it, but having your world shaken up occasionally isn't a bad thing. I have new opportunities, a freshened perspective, and an interesting new job. As the song says, I think "change is gonna do me good."

At Home With The Spratts

I've been driving around the UK for the last couple of weeks with BBC Radio 4 for company and trying to make sure I'm on the road every day at 10am. 10am is R4's finest hour, for then is when Woman's Hour comes on.

Woman's Hour, for US readers, is a daily magazine programme that's been running since 1946, covering culture, politics, and entertainment with a beady eye on what it means for women. It's like Sisters in Crime - only for everything.

Anyway, at the moment WH is refereeing a bit of a punch-up called Chore Wars. There's an online calculator to help work out who does the grunt work and why and what it means. The stats are updated as more of us add our numbers.

And listening to the woes of some of the respondents, I've ended up feeling quite lucky. Chore Wars is interesting, I think, because it asks not only "what do you do?" but also "do you enjoy it?" and it turns out me and the undergardener are basically Mr and Mrs Spratt (except neither of us skinny).

Let's divide the work of a house (childless) into three bits: food, shelter, covering one's nakedness.

I love every bit of the work of staying alive by consuming food: writing shopping lists, shopping, putting shopping away, cooking, EATING, and clearing up afterwards.  So does the undergardener, so we share it. Except for the bit I'm greedy about and hoard for myself . . .

One of my favourite moments in life is when people go away after a big dinner party and I turn to face a house where the kitchen bunkers are invisible under ten layers of detritus, the table (extended) is covered in glasses, chocolate wrappers and candlewax and the livingroom and porch are littered with cocktail dregs and kettle chip crumbs.

Two hours later when the tablecloth and napkins are on a hot wash and the dishwasher is humming with the second load, I go to bed exhausted and content.

But as much as I love all of that, it fades to meh beside how much I love washing. (What the US calls laundry.) I love it too much to share, so I do it all. Sorting loads, stuffing the washing machine, pegging it out in the garden or hanging it over the pulley, bringing it in, ironing it and laying it away in drawers . . . bliss.  I always feel quite disappointed when there's nothing in the washing basket and I have to miss a day. 

So far, so possibly sickening. But read on. 

What I can't be bothered with and never really see the point of is the work of maintining the shelter. Hoovering, dusting, scrubbing, mopping, polishing . . . if I lived alone I'd do it eventually, but [drumroll] meet Mr Spratt. The undergardener, who would far rather go to bed and sleep after a dinner party and doesn't mind his dirty clothes turning up clean in his drawers again, likes nothing better than putting on some loud music and rubber gloves and blitzing the house on a Saturday morning.

I help: I lift my feet so he can sweep underneath them and I don't complain about the music when I'm reading. And I launder the cleaning cloths.

So on we trundle. I complain that he unpacks all the shopping in the kitchen, and the bathroom items end up in the bit of the kitchen nearest the bathroom; he complains that I always think there's room for another meal's worth of peelings in the compost pail. I wish he had fewer categories of clothes between clean and dirty; he wishes I would read the whole newspaper within a week of its delivery.

But none of our pitched battles are about housework. How about you? Could you live with someone who doesn't see a dust-bunny until it's like a third housemate? Would it annoy you to be told to wear blue today because I'm gathering a non-colour-fast load for tomorrow? Have you ever cleaned the toilet with your partner's loofah because it was either that or call a lawyer?

That was a fictitious example, that last one. None of my friends has ever shared that with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back from the beach

by Donna Andrews.

I just got back from my trip to St. Pete Beach, Florida, where I attended this year's Novelists, Inc. conference. Great time. Tired. No words.

But I did get photos.  Here are a few.

 

ROCKIN' OCTOBER READS

 

from Mary

 

 

Is there ever a time of year that's NOT good for reading? I don't think so. Now that the leaves are starting to fall and breezes have that little bit of a cool nip, all my book squirrel instincts are kicking in. Time to start gathering plenty of books, hot cocoa and tea supplies, and go dig out my thick wooby reading socks!

 

Here are a few suggestions for your fall reading stack:

 

 

THE SKELETON TAKES A BOW by Leigh Perry, AKA our very own Toni Kelner, is second in her new series starring my favorite leading skinny guy, Sid.  He's a skeleton that has mysteriously retained his personality despite being, you know, dead. I adore him. He's a kind-hearted soul who loves his family, made up of Georgia Thackeray, an adjunct college professor and her teenage daughter, Madison. 

Sid convinces Madison that he would be perfect for the part of Yorick in her school's production of Hamlet. While backstage, Sid overhears a heated argument followed by what sounds like a murder. 

What I love most about this series is the "real" quality of the characters and their world. Georgia doesn't make much money as an adjunct. Living on a strict budget and working a mostly thankless job is the norm for most real-life families, but we rarely see this in fictional characters. This and the first in the series have a perfect mix of realistic situations and laugh-out-loud craziness. Both are lots of fun.

 

 

 

BLESS HER DEAD LITTLE HEART by Miranda James, who is also an AKA, our own Mr. Dean James. All the Femmes are so excited about this book which entered the New York Times Bestseller list at #14!

This new series is certainly off to a great start. The main characters, An'gel and Dickse Ducote, are two well-to-do sisters in their eighties who live in a Civil War-era house in Mississippi. Their quiet lives are rudely interupted by an old sorority sister who is brash, a little off in the head and always needs money. 

I loved the way the story unfolds and don't want to spoil your enjoyment of that. I'll just say it reminded me of funny British theater at times. 

It was also especially fun for me because I know the real-life Ducote sisters, most definitely NOT in their eighties. Dean did a fantastic job setting up this new series. Can't wait for the next one!

 

 

A SECOND CHANCE: Volume 3 of The Chronicles of St. Mary's

by Jodi Taylor

 

I've realized this month that three of my new favorite series are either totally or mostly historical novels. The Chronicles of St. Mary's books fall in the mostly category. In these, the heroine is Max, a young female historian who leads one of the time-travel teams at the St. Mary's Institute. She is strong, brash and frequently profane. Her dream of studying the last days of Troy has finally come true. She and her team jump back and spend several months gathering data on all aspects of life just before the Trojan horse comes in and the city falls.

I highly recommend this series as long as:

- You don't mind some foul but often hilarious language

- You don't mind a sex scene or two

- You don't mind a little of that British way of brain-scrambling

- You read the series in order

Really, start with the first book. Each one has several time-travel jumps, some of which are straight-forward, some are mysterious and entwine in and out of all three books. A terrific series. You'll thank me. :)

 

I read several installments this month in the other two fave historical series:

 

 

 

TERRA INCOGNITA by Ruth Downie is the second book about Roman army surgeon Gaius Petreius Ruso and his housekeeper, companion and former slave Tilla, a native of Britannia. As far as reading real history, I don't care much for the Roman Britain era. However, I do love the chemistry between Ruso, the military man, and Tilla, the young Celtic woman who is wise beyond her years. And good with a quick comeback. 

The tensions between the Romans and the conquered natives are reaching breaking point. At the scenes of several murders, witnesses claim to have seen a Stag Man. Tilla becomes involved in helping Ruso find more information to prevent future killings and possibly an overthrow planned by native criminals.

 

 

 

PERSONA NON GRATA, third in the series, takes Ruso and Tilla out of Britannia and back to Ruso's home in Gaul. He received a letter, supposedly from his brother, saying he must return home immediately though no reason was given. Since Ruso is out of commission anyway due to injuries from the last book, he sets out with Tilla on the long trip to find out what new catastrophe has fallen upon his family's already dire circumstances.

 

 

BLOOD LANCE by Jeri Westerson is the fifth Crispin Guest book. Guest is a disgraced knight in 14th century England who now ekes out a living as a private tracker. I am crazy about these books. Though unable to move in the royal circles he once did, Guest still has a few allies left who help him out on occasion. All his relationships are so well done, friends and foes. My favorites though are the Archishop of Westminster, an old friend and teacher from his youth, and Guest's faithful servant, Jack Tucker who is growing into a fine young man.

One night, Guest is out past curfew, and on his way home, he witnesses a man being thrown out a window on London Bridge and falling into the Thames. When he goes to investigate, he finds out that the dead man was a metalsmith who was working on a very special project that involved an ancient religious relic.

 

 

In the sixth book, SHADOW OF THE ALCHEMIST, Guest is hired by Nicholas Flamel, a famous alchemist who is living temporarily in London. He asks Guest to find his wife and assistant who have been kidnapped. Flamel is known for creating the Philosopher's Stone, something that any number of criminals would kill for. 

Great series. Really looking forward to see what happens next.

 

 

So that's me, y'all. What's happening in your book world?

 

 

WHAT NOT TO SAY WHEN YOU MEET A WRITER

I think the positive side of meeting a writer – what TO do – is very simple. Please smile, tell the writer you enjoy her work (or you are looking forward to reading her work). That will make any writer perfectly happy. Buying a copy of said work on the spot is a very pleasant touch. Even presenting your Kindle cover to be signed is perfectly acceptable.

But here’s what NOT to say:

1. Don’t say, “Your signing was so crowded last year. Where did everybody go?”
(Answer: Hell if I know.)

2. “How do your children feel about the sex scenes in your books?”
(Answer: Ask them, not me.)

3. “How do I get a book published?”
(Answer: This is way too big a topic for a quick answer. Do your research, the same way I did mine. Before I got published. Learn something about the industry in the process.)

4. “Do you remember me? I met you at your signing five years ago.”
(I could not remember my own mother under those circumstances. As a matter of fact, I walked right by my own son at a signing and did not recognize him.)

5. “My Aunt Fanny had an amazing life. Let’s write a book about her and split the money!”
(Answer: No.)

6. “I know the couple involved in that sensational murder triangle! I’ll tell you
all about it, you write it up, and we’ll split the money!”
(Answer: No.)

7. “I have a great idea for a book, but I’m too busy to write it. Why don’t I tell it
to you, you write the book, and we’ll split the money!”
(Answer: Amazingly, I seem to have ideas all on my own. No.)

8. “I wish you would write faster.”
(Answer: Sigh. Me, too.)

I know every writer has her/his own list of least-favorites, but these are mine. I know none of you are guilty of any of these comments. Right? Right! And in answer to the question you DIDN’T ask . . . I’ll be polite even if you ask me these. Because I know not everyone goes to a lot of booksignings, and therefore has no idea of how often we hear those comments.

Sherlock Holmes and the logic of werewolves

by Dana

My short story, "The Curious Case of Miss Amelia Vernet" is available now!  I particularly like writing about the “history” of the Fangborn, my family of super-heroic werewolves, vampires, and oracles, because it gives me an opportunity to explore that world outside of my series set in the present day.  I mean, traveling the world with Zoe Miller, an archaeologist and werewolf in search of her past and the secrets of Fangborn power, is extremely cool, but sometimes it's more fun to actually get into the past rather than looking at it through the distorting lens of time.  

Writing that fictitious past also lets me play fast and loose with history, something I loathe as a recovering academic, but can't seem to resist as a writer.  For example, it is not enough to say “that design on a clay pot from the American Southwest looks like the design on a pot from South Africa, so they must be related.”  They may be related, but they might have nothing at all to do with each other.  In my case, I've decided that when I see wolves or snakes on a piece of art from anywhere in the world, it may indicate the presence of my werewolves or vampires.  But I still have to make a convincing story that fits the Fangborn into that culture.  Even in writing fantasy fiction, logic is the key in determining what relationship, if any, there might be between those artifacts and those cultures.  

Logic is what first drew me to the Sherlock Holmes canon (the fifty-six short stories and four novels written by Arthur Conan Doyle) as a kid.  Everything seems much more manageable if you can apply science and logic; any puzzle, even those that appear to have supernatural elements, can be solved.

I think the idea of writing a Sherlockian pastiche, setting my Fangborn characters in the London of 1890s, and specifically at 221Baker Street occurred when my agent Josh Getzler and I were talking about the inconsistencies that are famously part of the canon.  For example, Doctor Watson's war wound is sometimes in his shoulder and sometimes in his leg and the number and names of his wives is unclear; there appear to have been several living siblings all named James Moriarty.  I began to play with finding explanations for these things:  Perhaps Watson was actually one of my Fangborn werewolves, and couldn't keep track of which wounds he received because of his countless heroic actions.  Perhaps, because of the longevity of the Fangborn and their constant moves to keep from being identified, he forgot his cover story along with the name of his present wife.  Maybe Professor James Moriarty wasn't a supervillian after all, and his web of criminal activity was a cover for selfless actions undertaken in secret.  Maybe Sherlock Holmes was really his ally, and they created the idea of a “Napoleon of Crime” to divert attention from the Fangborn fight against evil...

You'll have to read my short story “The Curious Case of Miss Amelia Vernet” to find out how I decided to integrate the two worlds, but it was, despite the presence of werewolves, a game of logic.  I had to obey the rules of ACD's world and my own Fangborn world, which was a terrific challenge.  I also needed to keep true, so far as I could, to the actual conventions, language, and material culture of late Victorian London.  It's not flights of fancy, but mathematics of a sort, a careful balance of factors within a complex equation that eventually gave me the story.

Next Tuesday, when I blog with the fabulous Jungle Red Writers, I'll tell you about how Sherlock's brother, Mycroft Holmes, and real-life spies in World War II fit into my short story.  But for now:  Do you have a favorite Sherlockian character or story?  A favorite pastiche?

We're number 14!

Well, actually Dean is.  Wearing his Miranda James hat.  We just got the news that Bless Her Dead Little Heart, the first in his new Southern Ladies Mysteries, will debut at number 14 on the New York Times bestseller list.

So y'all go out and buy it too, you hear?

He'd probably love it if you picked it up at Murder by the Book. 

 

"Out of The World and into Galloway . . ."

A character says this in my latest book as she's driving westwards towards the (very lightly fictionalised) bay on the Solway where much of the action takes place.

I did it myself shortly after arriving in Scotland too; Galloway is where Scotland's book town is situated and where the world's quirkiest, couthiest, most enjoyable little book festival is held.

For a start, at Wigtown is a delightful wee town. Here's ReadingLasses, one of the many bookshops:

And here's a comfortable reading corner at The Bookshop, the town's original bookseller and the country's biggest secondhand book emporium:

So far, so quaint. But what makes Wigtown special is things like this (specially for Toni Kelner):

And the fact that the authors' green room is a Georgian drawing room of great elegance:

where lobster is served every day for luncheon:

And this is the designated festival car park:

And they commission a celebratory oil painting every year. Here's Iona Leishman with her outstanding picture of the flight of Mary, Queen of Scots (apologies for the glare):

And they persuade pre-eminent literary critic and Man Booker judge, Stuart Kelly, to compere Wigtown's Got Talent (allegedly by taking one of his suits hostage and threatening to sacrifice a button):

And, actually, that they even have an event called Wigtown's Got Talent during a "Serious Literary Festival" at all, and that children's author and BBC scriptwriter Philip Ardagh's talent was inserting ten-count-them-ten Bic Cristals into his beard.

I had the challenge of judging Philip and the others. A doddle compared with competing, let me tell you. My other half hasn't yet recovered from the time, seven years ago, we did a cha-cha-cha.

Next month, another book gathering at another seaside location: Bouchercon in Long Beach, CA. My prediction is . . . better weather, fewer tractors, five times more people, much less whisky.

I'm looking forward to it very much and am grateful to have such a spiced life.

 

Storytelling, Renaissance Style

by Leigh Perry / Toni L.P. Kelner

Earlier this fall, my family went to King Richard's Faire in Carver, MA, and it occurred to me that there's a lot a writer can learn a lot at a renaissance fair.

Of course, as  you may have noticed from past posts, my ability to connect random events to the writing life is directly correlated by how late I am at posting--this one should have been written yesterday--but I actually have a point or two to make.

First off, let me introduce the concept of a renaissance fair to those who haven't had the opportunity to attend one. These are seasonal events in which a renaissance village is recreated, with more or less accuracy, complete with monarchs, knights on horseback, and all kinds of entertainers. Costumed characters wander the grounds, and attendees are encouraged to wear medieval garb themselves.

Wait, medieval? I thought this was the renaissance?

Well, kind of. The fact is, renn fairs play pretty fast and loose with history. For instance, most seem to be set in English villages, even though the renaissance as such never really hit England. King Richard's Faire, for instance is set in the faux town of Cavershire. Which brings us to my first point.

Accuracy, smaccuracy--are you having fun?

This is not to say that authors shouldn't do their research. Whether your protagonist is a cop or a hair dresser or an archeologist, you should know enough about those vocations to depict them accurately. Ditto for settings, forensics, and such. But mystery readers are willing to cut you some slack for purposes of a good story. Archeologists don't often investigate murders, any more than private eyes do. Police officers do, but they work in task forces and teams and juggle all kind of cases, not just the one in the book's title. You know this and mystery readers know this. We all just wink and play along, just as I wink at Jacques Ze Whipper, making a pun on a murderer who wasn't know until the 1880s and who had apparently drawn on his mustache with an eyebrow pencil. Why? Because it's fun. And in this case, because Jacques is a great performer.

As for the French accent and the mustache, that's all part of the character he's created. And that brings me to my second point.

Characters are important, and consistant characters even more so.

One of the attractions of a renn fair is that the people in the village aren't just people in costume--they have their own characters to portray, and I know from speaking to people who work at renn faires they don't just throw on bits and pieces of leftover garb--they spend a lot of time creating their characters and dressing appropriately.

 

 

So even the man wrangling the crowd at the joust and the woman selling cider are in character, and it adds so much flavor to the day to see them, just as colorful characters add to a story.

Moreover, they stay in character all day long.So don't ask anybody about  iPhones or the Red Sox--there are no such things known in Carvershire. Instead, ask them about the king and queen, or whether they take shields of credit (that's credit cards to you and me), or where the privies are. (Fortunately, they do not insist on period restroom facilities.)

Speaking of jousting, they have great ones. Games, sword fighting, and  knock-knights-off-the-horse-with-a-lance battles. It's a tremendous spectacle, and unsuprisingly, leads to my next point.

Conflict is good.

It makes for a good story to have a strong conflict, whether it's between two postive characters or between an antagonist and a protagonist. It doesn't have to be phyisical and violent, but those sure are satisfying to watch. Here's the knight we rooted for.

See how eager he is to go into battle, and to talk smack about his opponent? Though he didn't win, it wasn't from lack of cheering on our part. And he had a great death scene, which segues right into the next point.

A strong ending stays with you.

Though you can of course leave the faire at any time, it's well worth it to stay until the end of the day when the King, the Queen, and the court appear at the gate to see you off with a renaissance flair and most of the villagers come to sing a really lovely farewell song.

 

The day felt complete, just as a satisfying ending makes a book or story feel complete. And that's the kind of story that's going to stay with the reader, which is what all writers want. I know we felt as if we'd brought a little bit of the renaissance home with us that day.