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Publisher/Author Deborah Adams On Beginning Of The Femmes!

 

Today the Femmes welcome our dear friend, DEBORAH ADAMS, one of the founders of the Femmes Fatales! Let's take a look back with Deb on the

early days ......

 

 

What Was and Is and Will Be

 

by Deborah Adams

 

If I had a blue box that was bigger on the inside and could travel through space and time, I’d pop back to the first Femmes Fatales planning session in the late 1990s, and eavesdrop on the conversation. I wouldn’t tell them/us what’s in their/our futures, of course, because they’d think I was just a crazy lady.

 

 

No, I’d simply sit in the corner and listen.

For one thing, I’m curious; did it happen the way I remember? And for another, I’d want to ask them/us what they envision this collaboration producing, because I’m fairly certain they/we had no idea the Femmes would still be around in 2016.

Twenty years ago, authors were just beginning to recognize the need for book promotion. Most of us went into this lifestyle assuming that our job was to write, and that the publisher would make sure the world knew about our books. We quickly learned that writers who want to be read must let the world know that their work exists. (Have you ever bought a book you’ve never heard of? Didn’t think so.)

Some of the better-known authors had newsletters, but in those days before social media --before cell phones! before email!— the cost of printing and mailing newsletters was an expense that few of us could afford. And so eight mid-list mystery writers – Charlaine Harris, Marlys Milhiser, Mignon Ballard, D. R. Meredith, Toni L. P. Kelner, Teri Holbrook, Elizabeth Daniels Squire, and Yours Truly—teamed up to share our contacts, news, and enthusiasm, as well as to provide each other with supportive words and the occasional shoulder to cry on.

 

 

 

Writers are lucky in that we don’t have to view each other as competition. No one has ever walked into a bookstore with the intention of buying a book by either Author A or Author B – and so we can work together, which makes the whole process of marketing, touring, and generally surviving the writing life so much more fun.

We had no ‘platform’ – after all, we weren’t politicians; we were just writers trying to sell enough books so that we could justify doing what we love. We had one simple goal: to share news of our books with those who might enjoy reading them.

And we certainly didn’t make marketing and publicity a priority. In fact, it was all editor Megan Bladen-Blinkoff could do to get us to turn in our two-sentence updates. No, we definitely didn’t take this notion of self-promotion seriously. And yet, despite our happy-go-lucky attitude, the Femmes Fatales collaboration picked up steam and carried us along.

Time passed. Life changed, as did the members of the Femmes Fatales. But the Femmes, regardless of individuals, worked together and created a synergy. Twenty years on, the Femmes are still a strong team, with even more success to come.

How can I be sure of that, you ask? Well, if I had a blue box that was bigger on the inside and could travel through space and time, I would already have visited 2036.

 

 

And I would be able to tell the Femmes that they/we have more books and awards and wonderful non-writing-related joys in their lives, and that one of us becomes the Supreme… oh, but I’m probably just a crazy lady. Don’t mind me.

 

*     *     *

 

Ha-Ha!! Thanks so much, Deb! Actually, you are something of a Supreme Being since you've always helped and encouraged new writers in this crazy business. Thank you! And thanks for being with us today.

 

Also, readers, Deb's first book, ALL THE GREAT PRETENDERS, has just been re-released as an e-book. I loved it, and the rest of the series, so much when they first came out. So happy I can have it on my iPad now!!

 

 

"You're So Lucky" – Helping Friends in the Hospital

By Elaine Viets In Brain Storm, my new death investigator mystery, Angela Richman is misdiagnosed by Dr. Porter Gravois. He's a wealthy insider in mythical Chouteau County, Mo., home of the one percent and those who serve them. Angela has six strokes, brain surgery, and a coma. She's saved by brilliant outsider Dr. Jeb Travis Tritt. While Angela is in the hospital, Gravois is murdered and Tritt is arrested. Drug-addled, hallucinating Angela fights to save the man who saved her.
I lived this story. Brain Storm is partly based on my personal experience. Like Angela, I had six strokes, including a hemorrhagic stroke, brain surgery, and a coma. I spent three months in the hospital and four years recovering. I've made a nearly full recovery, because of all the people who helped me.
When someone you care about has a serious illness, you want to help them. Here are several way to help – and one way to seriously tick off a sick person.

"You're so lucky." These three little words will drive sick people nuts. Your best friend was hit by a beer truck and broke both legs. Your neighbor survived a heart attack because she keeled over in the doctor's office. I had six strokes and brain surgery. Yes, I was lucky – everyone said so. But it took me years to understand that. "You're so lucky" is the last thing I wanted to hear when I was sitting in a hospital with my head shaved, tubes stuck in my arm, ringing for a nurse to help me to the john. But that's what people said – and I saw red. They meant well, but when one hapless doctor said, "You're so lucky," I screamed at him, "Winning the lottery is lucky. This is not!"
"Uh, I didn't mean it that way," he stammered. "I meant you were lucky to survive, but you're really unlucky now, but you're still here."

Food – for the patient: Most hospital food is lousy. It's also unhealthy – veggies are boiled into mush, bread is white and desert-dry, meat is gray and tastes like fried rubber bands. I was so grateful to the friends who brought me meals in the hospital. They gave me roast chicken, lobster with twice-baked potatoes, chocolate, fresh fruit, candy bars, brownies. Luckily, I wasn't on a restricted diet. If you want to bring food to friends in the hospital, check their dietary needs first: One woman recovering from a heart attack had to turn down a delicious pork roast dinner slathered in gravy. For her, that really was a heartbreaking meal.

Food – for the family or care giver: When your wife, husband or child is in the hospital, you don't have time to cook. Sitting beside a hospital bed is more tiring than digging ditches. I was grateful to my friends who brought Don roast chicken, casseroles, or sent food baskets. I knew when he went home, he'd be eating right.

Flowers, plants, and balloons: Flowers and plants brightened my bland hospital rooms, and plants made a permanent gift. I took home the gorgeous peach orchid a friend sent. Be careful with balloons. Some hospitals don't allow them because patients may have latex allergies.
Books: Friends shipped me boxes of books, and I read them all.

Lotion: Hospital linens are like sandpaper. Your skin dries out after surgery and medications. One thoughtful friend sent me shea butter body lotion. So luxurious.

Pet visits: I missed my cats when I was in the hospital. My friend Barbara photographed Harry and Mystery and put up their pictures in my room. She also had their photos put on a small pillow, which I still treasure.
Prayers: Even nonbelievers need them. Prayers keep you connected to the world. Catholics, Protestants, Mormons, nuns, prisoners, and Buddhists prayed for me. Thank you.

Cards: Cards are colorful, inexpensive, and thoughtful. I received more than 400 cards from friends and readers, and kept them all. I have a suitcase full of good wishes.
Tacky card contest: I loved it when friends started a tacky card contest. I can't print their messages here, but they made me laugh. Not a good idea for sweet old Aunt Mildred, the church lady, or Uncle John the preacher. But a mild dose of wicked was good medicine for me.

**************************************************************************************

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Buy Brain Storm: Through August 1, the e-book is $1.99 and the trade paperback is $9.99. amzn.to/29KudfA

 

Making Murder Funny

by Leigh Perry / Toni L.P. Kelner

In 2010, I gave a master class about using humor in mysteries at the New England Crime Bake and recently came across my notes for that class. Even though these days I write about the dark and gritty life of an ambulatory skeleton, I thought these notes might still be worthwhile. If they were worthwhile in the first place. And the best part of posting them is that there's no length requirement. I seem to remember coming up twenty minutes short when I actually ran the class.

***

I think the Crime Bake committee asked me to teach this class because pretty much everything I do includes humor. Even when I’ve dipped my pen into the darkest of noir, one or two smart ass comments sneak in.

People may think murder isn’t funny, and I can't argue with that. But the best fiction—not just mysteries—mix humor. Look at Shakespeare, for instance. His tragedies and histories have comic subplots, and his comedies all have dire consequences. The comedy of Mercutio and the Nurse makes the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet hit harder, the danger of what might happen to Antonio in The Merchant of Venice makes the comedy funnier.

So I hope that after this class, you'll have and idea of why and when to use humor, and when NOT to use humor.

There are three basic ways of using humor in mysteries:

1. Funny mystery stories
   Slapstick like much of Femme Donna's series and Janet Evanovich
   Wit like The Thin Man
   Crazy capers, as in the Dortmunder books by Donald Westlake
   Farce like Carkeet’s From Away
   Whimsical mysteries like Jasper Fforde’s
   
   
2. Smart alec characters, masters of the wisecrack
    Elvis Cole in Robert Crais or Myron Bolitar in Harlan Coben’s series or Archie Goodwin in Nero Wolfe
   Wit like The Thin Man
   Black humor like in Joseph Wambaugh’s
   These kinds of characters show characterization—bravery in the face of danger—a classic trope. They also provide exposition in an entertaining way. Archie Goodwin, for instance, sees scenes like nobody else.
   
   
3. Comic relief
   Bubba in Femme Charlaine's Sookie books
   Comic relief can actually be good for pacing—it gives the reader a chance to catch his or her breath before ratcheting up suspense.

Now a writer mixes and matches these three aspects, and they're not mutually exclusive. Mix and match. Archie Goodwin is always a wise-acre, but sometimes it’s in a funny situation and sometimes in a tense situation and sometimes just showing how the characters work together.

There's a clue there, appropriately enough for a mystery. The three aspects correspond to three pieces of a mystery, or any kind of fiction.

• Funny mysteries = Setting
• Smart alecs = Characterization
• Comic relief = Plot/pacing

So when you use humor, you want to know what it is you’re doing with it. Not just for its own sake.

Think as humor as another tool in your toolbox. To be used for specific purposes as an author. Just because you’ve got a nice hammer you got for Christmas, you don’t pull it out when you need a pair of pliers.

Donald Westlake did pretty darned well with his Parker novels, but one day he got an idea that just wouldn’t work for Parker. It was kind of silly. So he created Dortmunder, a sad sack kind of guy. The story would not have worked with Parker. (Though interestingly, you can tell similar stories with different characters. Westlake did two re-tellings of the O Henry story “The Ransom of Red Chief,” one with Dortmunder and one with Stark. And they are very different stories.)

So that's why you SHOULD use humor. Now we can talk about the pitfalls of humor. (Not the pratfalls--that would be a different topic.) So Readers, who thinks the Three Stooges are funny? Monty Python? I Love Lucy? Seinfeld? Cheers? 30 Rock? George Carlin? Milton Berle? Will Ferrell? Seth Rogen?

I bet each one of these has fans, and other people who just made faces. Not everbody loves everything—not even Everybody Loves Raymond.

That means that every time you use humor, you run the risk of losing a reader. Isaac Asimov said, "I have frequently (rather to my own uneasy surprise) been accused of writing humorously. Oh, I try, I try, but only very cautiously, and for a long time I thought nobody noticed."

You see, there is no margin for error in humor. You can try to write suspense and not quite hit the mark, and have a story that is only moderately suspenseful. You can have a story be only moderately romantic, moderately exciting, moderately eerie, even moderately science-fictiony. But what happens when you miss the mark in humor? Is the result moderately humorous? Of course not! The not-quite-humorous remark, the not-quite-witty rejoinder, the not-quite-farcical episode are, respectively, dreary, stupid, and ridiculous.

Well, with a target that is all bull's-eye and no larger than a bull's-eye at that, am I going to blaze away carelessly? Certainly not! I'm fantastically courageous, but I'm not stupid. You’re dealing with age differences, background, culture. Even Thurber got lost in translation to the UK, theoretically the same language.

The solution is to make sure every bit of humor is doing something else. If you want wit, make it witting exposition. If you want slapstick, make it during a bank robbery. You can't afford to just stop the story to make a cheap joke. Besides, if it’s integral to the story, it's more likely to be funny.

Of course, there is a time and a place for jokes. Humor can slow down your pacing if you aren’t careful. One book I read recently had a character who was German, and messed up idioms. The protagonist had to interpret and correct him. During most of the book, this was okay. But in the middle of a chase scene or reveal, she was still doing it! It took from the impact of those moments.

Another issue is that some humor is visual. I could write about hitting somebody with a pie in the face, but it’s really hard to get the impact without seeing the meringue falling off. Think about trying to describe a Three Stooges routine or a comic strip in prose. Or a comic strip. Along the same lines, sometimes humor relies on facial expression and tone of voice. Think about how many times you’ve written something as a joke or sarcastically in an e-mail, only to give the wrong impression.

Some tricks that work to overcome that are:

• Keep humorous action simple, and easily visualized. use sort sentences, short paragraphs.
• This is a time for showing, not telling. Use action verbs!
• Dialog can do the trick, too. One of the funniest sequences I ever saw on TV showed almost nothing—on WKRP in Cincinnati, they were doing a Thanksgiving promotion, throwing live turkeys from a helicopter. A newsman is watching, and starts describing it to the radio audience. For the rest of the scene, you just have his descriptions, no special effects of the falling birds. It was hilarious.

So far I've been focusing on the writing challenges with humor. There are marketing issues, too. Humor can limit the audience, as we discussed. That means you’ve also limited the editors who are amused. Even if you get the audience, you don’t get the respect. Rodney Dangerfield was kidding, but… When was the last time a funny mystery won the Edgar? The Agatha is considerably kinder to humor and the Lefty given out at Left Coast Crime, is specifically for funny mysteries. Still, if you're aiming for awards, writing funny is not your best bet. (You may be getting from this that writing humor is hard work. Yeah, it can be.

But think of it this way. As a mystery writer, you already use a lot of the techniques for writing humor:

• The secret to humor is...and this is really funny in person if I pause a long time and suddenly shout...TIMING! Ditto mysteries.
• Structure is very important to a mystery—you’re managing the flow, and managing the release of information.
• The unexpected is just as important to humor as to mystery.

Let me end with a long quote from Jeff Cohen / E.J. Copperman,  author of Night of the Living Deed and a number of other funny mysteries:

On the subject of "humorous" mysteries (I hate the word "humorous," the comedy equivalent of "pleasant"):

Humor is the most subjective of all art forms. What will reduce me to a quivering mass of laughter might strike you as sophomoric, idiotic, crude, bland, or even sad. Some people think the TV show MEN OF A CERTAIN AGE is a hoot; I find it the most depressing thing on the airwaves, constantly driving home the helplessness and frustration of its characters.

In mysteries, it's important to have, you know, a mystery. So the plot is there and should be treated with respect. Making up a "funny" plot is a recipe for disaster, because you're already treating your characters as pawns and will sacrifice anything for the sake of a laugh. If they're not real people, it's not going to be real funny.

But then, in a murder mystery, somebody has to, you know, die. This is, generally speaking, not a springboard for hilarity. And I have personally never tried to write a "funny" murder, although I think it can be done. I just don't have any interest in doing it. I think it's the REACTION of the characters to the situation that can be funny.

Wisecracks? In my view, essential. I talk like that in real life, so for me, it's just dialogue. And if we haven't met, no, I'm not that obnoxious, but as my wife often points out to me, "You're incapable of not going for the joke." I like banter. I think it establishes rapport between certain characters and not others. I think people who just say what they mean in the most straightforward terms possible all the time can't be trusted.

To sum up, class, I love humor in mysteries. I love humor in non-mysteries. I think anything that doesn't have a sense of humor isn't worth my extremely limited time on this earth. I can get depressed all on my own; I don't need help. So if you've read something of mine and laughed, I have done my job right. If you're read something of mine and thought, "Wow, he's really odd," you're not far off, but perhaps we're not destined to be best friends. If you've read something of mine and said, "This guy can't write," I urge you strongly to keep your opinion to yourself. I have college tuition (two tuitions!) to pay.

Class dismissed.

Read This Sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've been in the UK for two weeks, far far away from my California home, and inevitably people have asked about the differences between the two places. Almost as inevitably I've dazzled with answers like "Oof, um, I dunno really. Pies?"

Then it hit me. It hit me in Whitby.

Almost everywhere you go in California there's a birth-defect warning sign.  It goes something like this: 'these premises harbor chemicals known to be harmful during pregnancy".  It freaked me out when I first got there, then I realised it meant that that there were three particles per square acre of a chemical which, if you snorted it in its pure form five times a day for nine months, might lead to an increased in risk of 0.00006%. And I calmed down.

In Whitby this morning I wondered what the California legislature would make of the fact that you go and buy your kippers in a 200 yr old . . . shack is the only word, where the walls are black and sticky and the smoke belches out merrily in all directions. The only sign says "open".

It struck me that Britain doesn't go in much for safety signs at all. There's a stately home in Yorkshire called Harewood House with a children's adventure playground a stone's throw (or toddler's tumble) from a boating lake and the only warning sign is this one:

 

In other words, tourists are ten a penny, but some of these plants are really precious.

I thought I'd seen a safety sign up in a moorland village later in the day, but when I took a closer look, it said this:

Again, this is all about protecting the precious garden from harmful sheep (or possibly the precious sheep from harmful plants) but not about protecting the tourists from anything.

I started paying more attention to signs after this and they really are very British indeed. Some of them are snooty:

 (It's not just that there's no parking on the grass, it's that a duke doesn't want you parking on his grass. Drive on, peasant!)

Some of them are stoic in the face of British weather:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And some of them are just a little out of date:

But all of them are somewhere on a line between slightly dotty and totally bonkers. I'll keep my eyes peeled for more over the next month or so. And I daresay as I head northwards in Scotland, where the sheep are wilder and the people are . . . well, they're  my people so I won't say it . . . the signs will be worth a look too.

 

 

POSITIVE!!
By Charlaine Harris

Let’s talk about something wonderful. It’s about time, huh?

This past weekend was Clear the Shelters weekend. NBC Universal sponsored it, in coordination with more than 680 animal shelters. Applicants could adopt a pet (dog, cat, iguana, rooster) for a greatly reduced adoption fee, and a waived or reduced spay-neuter fee.

And how did people respond? More than 45,000 animals were adopted. In Texas, the lines were long to get inside facilities housing potential pets.

I live in Texas. At least eleven shelters in Texas were empty after Saturday, including one in nearby Glen Rose. Empty! I’m rejoicing in the positive side of this. I’m rejoicing in seeing the pictures of shelter workers standing in empty dog cages.

I know, you’re thinking . . . Some of these people won’t be good owners. Some of them will abandon or mistreat the animal they adopted. But that’s always the case. Terrible but factual.

I am gobsmacked by the reality that many, many people turned out to stand in the hot sun to wait their turns to pick a forever pet. I am delighted by the fact that lots of shelter workers get to stay home today. I love seeing this great instance of the good side of human nature.

I hope it makes you happy, too. I was drawn to write about this by our own two rescues, Colt and Abigail. Our daughter found Colt wandering around a parking lot, and we discovered Abigail in our local shelter. We have never been sorry they are part of our family.

Making Time for Perspective and Play: Writers Workshops and Conferences

By Lori Rader-Day, Guest Blogger for the Femmes Fatales.

It's my pleasure to welcome award-winning author Lori Rader-Day, who won the Mary Higgins Clark Award and Anthony Award for her mysteries, The Black Hour  and Little Pretty Things. If you haven't read these novels, order them as soon as you finish Lori's blog. Today, Lori answers the question that plagues so many writers: Which conferences are best for me? -- Elaine Viets

 

 

As I write this guest post (thanks Elaine, for having me!), I’m packing for Midwest Writers Workshop in Muncie, Indiana. Muncie and I have a long history, so I don’t mind going back there for any reason. They have Pizza King, for one thing. Also, the conference is held on the campus of Ball State University where I earned two degrees, worked for five years, taught in two departments, and, essentially, became a grown up.

And now I go back to play.

That’s what these conferences are for me. Sure, they’re work, too. I can’t number the hours I have spent preparing for the workshops and panels I’ve done there and will do this week. Three to four days of social output takes its toll on this introvert. But in the mean time, I get to be what I always wanted to be. How many people get to say that?

This conference is my origin story. I went there before I knew much about writing and I went again once I had learned a little more and gotten more focused. In 2008, in a program held by the MWW in Angola, Indiana, I was put into the mystery group of a workshop before I knew I was a mystery writer. MWW was one step ahead of me, showing me the way. Lighting the way with torches, really, so that I couldn’t miss the path.

Now when I go, I’m one of the faculty. Going back to Muncie is returning home, and seeing how well home does without you while you’re gone. It’s humbling. “Going to church” is what another longtime faculty member, Matthew Clemens, calls it. It is that. It is going back to school, one last time.

If you’re looking to get to be what you always wanted to be, consider coming out to play at a conference sometime soon. Meet writers who have figured out a few things and are willing to share. Connect with other writers at the same stage you are, who constitute your peer group, your moral support, your beta readers-to-be. Spend time in a place where everyone you meet is someone who loves just what you do. It’s an amazing feeling to be among other writers. This kind of church is also good for the soul.

Those are my shoes on the campus of Ball State University, ready for the Midwest Writers Workshop.

Here are some suggested conferences for writerly learning and camaraderie:

Magna Cum Murder

This conference is also put on by Ball State University but now held in downtown Indianapolis, a very friendly and drivable city. The content is all mystery, all the time, but more about finding new authors to read than hands-on content. Other places you can listen in on mystery writer conversation: Bouchercon, Left Coast Crime, Malice Domestic, Murder and Mayhem in Milwaukee, and (starting in 2017, co-directed by yours truly) Murder and Mayhem in Chicago. 

PHOTO: Lori at Boucheron Long Beach, screaming bloody murder with (from left) Jamie Freveletti, Sara Paretsky, Femme Dana Cameron, Clare O'Donahue, Lori, and Jess Lourey.

Yale Writers’ Workshop

All genres, hands-on workshops. This New Haven, Connecticut, workshop has a long, three-week option and a one-extended-weekend option. Don’t be intimidated; the program is for people just like you. You will need to have some pages polished to apply. Save costs by staying in student housing and really return to school.

New England Crime Bake/Sleuthfest

These two separate conferences are held by Mystery Writers of America chapters on the East Coast (Boston) and in Florida (Boca Raton) respectively. Mystery and crime genre-focused, but with a hands-on workshop approach, taught by some heavy hitters in the genre.

 

PHOTO: At Bouchercon Raleigh, from left: Lynne Raimondo, James Ziskin, Susan Froetschel, Susannah Calkins.

Colorado Gold Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Conference

A favorite among many of my friends, Colorado Gold features visiting speakers and teachers in a variety of genres. While definitely a good fit for those still seeking craft help, pitch sessions with agents and editors are available at extra cost.

PHOTO: Lori meets Spencer Quinn. She also loves his Chet books.

Check out all the writing workshops and conferences for all genres (so so many) at Poets and Writers’ website. Or check your local library, bookstore, or university for offerings and resources they can suggest. The goal is to find the like-minded souls who can encourage you when the words won’t come and cheerlead for you when they do. Writing gets a bad rap as a solitary pursuit. It is not. You need your friends. A little time away gives you perspective, so that you can return to your manuscript energized with ideas and the support you’ll need to finish.

Besides, being a grown up is highly overrated.

Confessions of a Serial Murderer

I've lost count of the number of people I've murdered since the year 2000, when my first novel, Cruel as the Grave, was published. If I sat down and really thought about, I could come up with a number. Over the years since 2000, I have been for the most part frugal in my slaughter, since my books are what are known as "cozies." In a cozy, writers don't generally kill that many people per book. The ever-inventive Marian Babson holds, I think, the record for the most dead bodies in a cozy mystery in The Cruise of a Deathtime. The killer offs one person the first day, two the next, three the day after that, and so on. The total rises rapidly at that rate. Marian, a wickedly funny writer, pulls it off.

On Monday, two days ago, I emailed to my editor the manuscript of what will be my twenty-fifth published novel. (Number twenty-four, Digging Up the Dirt, will be out on September 6th). I had to stop and count them all, and every time I do that I somehow am surprised. Did I do that? Have I done this that many times already. Because, you know, each time I start a book, in so many ways it always feel like the first one. I tell myself, you've got this, after all, look how many times you've done it before. No sweat. Easy-peasy. Sit down and knock it out.

Except that it doesn't work that way, at least not for me. Perhaps one reason is that I don't create a detailed outline of the plot and the characters before I write the first sentence of the book. I do have the basics of the plot in mind. For example, in book #25 (Twelve Angry Librarians, to be published on February 21st, 2017), I had a premise. There's a library conference going on in Athena, the setting for the "Cat in the Stacks" books, and one of the keynote speakers is a man with whom Charlie Harris, my amateur sleuth, went to library school many years ago. Charlie loathed him then, and the man turns out to be every bit as loathsome when Charlie encounters him again. Want to guess who the murder victim is in this book?

So there's the basic premise, and the title of the book -- a gift of someone at Berkley, not my own inspiration -- provided the rest. Why are all these librarians so angry with the murder victim? I came up with names for the secondary characters and started to write. This is called by some seat-of-the-pants writing, meaning writing without an outline. Some writers don't do this and think it's crazy. Some writers can't stand the thought of outlines. I'm not fond of outlines myself. I like the process of discovery as I write, letting the characters tell me the story in some cases. It's fun, and it's scary, but it's how I work.

I make it work, somehow, and twenty-five times I have written "the end" (in my mind, anyway), and sent the book in. I will have to start number twenty-six pretty soon, and I have a basic idea for that one...

 

 

To Keep or To Give?

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: “It’s a keeper!” That’s what we often say about a book we love, right? But the wonderfully talented Claire Booth (more about her, and her terrific book, below) handles those favorites a different way. To her, the best books are meant to be shared. So Claire might say “It’s a giver!”

Claire’s Shares

By Claire Booth

I love books. As a writer, how could I not? So I own a few …

But there are some titles that you won’t find on my shelves for long – the ones I love the most. Books that I buy only to give away because they are that good. They are:

 

 

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie It’s a Hercule Poirot mystery. And I’ll bet you all have read it. But for people who haven’t, and especially those who haven’t read any Christie at all, I will force this book on them (respectfully, of course, while refraining from saying, “Are you kidding me?!”). It’s a masterpiece – and it’s important to know she did it long before certain au courant trends entered the marketplace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Poet, by Michael Connelly It seems that everyone has their own favorite of Connelly’s books, and this is mine. It has a reporter protagonist! I won’t go into why I love this book so much, because that would give away the ending. But I will give you a copy. And once you open it, you won’t be able to put it down until you’re done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shogun, by James Clavell I know – this one isn’t crime fiction. But it is one of the most amazing books I’ve ever read. An English sailor washes up on a beach in Japan in the year 1600. At that time, Japan was a closed society, and foreigners were extremely rare. Eventually, he becomes an advisor to a feudal lord. There’s war, intrigue, love, treachery, and everything else you could ask for in a book. If you say, “No, no, I don’t really like historical fiction,” or “Sweeping epics aren’t really my thing,” then I will nod politely and stuff Shogun in your purse when you aren’t looking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco  I usually don’t have this many copies on hand, but I’ve been holed up finishing my next book, so haven’t had many opportunities lately to give them away. This is an absolutely astonishing book. A mystery set in an Italian abbey in 1327, it eventually tallies seven deaths and an intricate puzzle that comes together perfectly at the end. Eco’s detective is the Franciscan friar Brother William of Baskerville. Which leads me to my next one …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Any Sherlock Holmes book or story. Although I don’t need to give these away as much anymore. These days, a lot more people have read Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective. (Which I’m sure has nothing to do with Benedict Cumberbatch. Nothing at all.) But if you haven’t, and I find out about it, you’ll soon be the owner of The Sherlock Holmes Reader or something similar.

 

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, by Marc Weissbluth, MD This one is obviously for a specific demographic. But trust me, if that’s you, this book is a life-saver. A friend who had a baby a few years before I did sent it to me. I could barely open the package in my cotton-brained, leaden-fingered, when-was-the-last-time-I-slept-for-more-than-two-hours stupor. Now I give it to every new parent I know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And lastly, there’s a little missive called On Writing. I meet a lot of writers who are just starting out, or struggling to put together their first novel. I give them this. You all know why. So readers, what books do you love so much that you set them free?

 

HANK: Oh, SO many! I have a stash of the Edward Eager mysteries that I give to every kid who shows even the slightest interest. Even some who don’t. And I’ve given many copies of Winter’s Tale, by Mark Helprin. And yes, On Writing, too. And I am about to start giving Reacher Said Nothing by Andy Martin. Have you read that? A wonderful book…on writing.

How about you, femmes and friends?

 

Claire Booth spent more than a decade as a daily newspaper reporter, much of it covering crimes so convoluted and strange they seemed more like fiction than reality. Eventually, she had enough of the real world and decided to write novels instead. Her Sheriff Hank Worth mystery series takes place in Branson, Missouri, where small-town Ozark politics and big-city country music tourism clash in, yes, strange and convoluted ways. Find her at www.clairebooth.com.

 

 

 

 

The Branson Beauty, an old showboat, has inexplicably crashed on the waters of the Ozark mountain lake it’s been plying for decades. Hank Worth is still settling into his new job as county sheriff, and when he responds to the emergency call, he knows he’s in for a long winter’s day of ferrying more than one hundred passengers to shore. But he doesn’t expect to find the body of a high school track star locked inside the Captain’s private dining room. Now he must navigate small town politics as he tries to figure out who killed the talented local girl.

Thank you, Mr. Grisham

by Donna Andrews for the Femmes Fatales.

It’s a good thing I’d already turned in the manuscript of Die Like an Eagle last year.  Because if I’d still been working on it this weekend, I’d have been tempted to steal from John Grisham.

Not his words, mind you, lovely though they are.  His ball park.

This past weekend, I went down to Charlottesville with my nephew’s 12U baseball travel team. Actually, though we stayed at a hotel in Charlottesville, we played in Cove Creek Park, a youth sports complex built by John Grisham.

Since we don’t quite move in the same social circles, I hadn’t previously realized that Grisham was a baseball fan.  Had aspirations—sadly unfulfilled—of playing ball himself. Is a big supporter of the sports program at the University of Virginia—my alma mater—where his son, Ty, played on the baseball team from 2001 to 2004.

And when his son and daughter were little, and he found out that the nearest youth baseball league was over twenty miles away in Charlottesville, he built a ball field.

Actually, he built seven, in various sizes, ranging from a t-ball field to fields sized for 14- and 15-year-old baseball and softball players. And he didn't stop with the fields--he built the whole support system around them.

More than one parent commented that it was among the nicest tournament facilities we’d ever played in.  Possibly the nicest.

The fields were beautifully maintained, and we understand that they have the same kind of expensive underground drainage systems major leagues use to make the fields playable as soon as possible after a rain. 

But perhaps more important was the great attention given to the comfort and safety of the players and spectators.  Well-designed dugouts that give plenty of shade for the players. A nice high backstop to reduce the number of fouls that target the spectators like heat-seeking missiles. Lots of canopies to provide shade for the spectators and for teams and families that are taking a break between games. Real flush toilets. A splendid snack shack. A playground for the kids.  A whiffleball field where the nephew’s team played a lively game to take the sting out of their defeat—at the hands of the team that won the tournament, I’ll have you know.

It’s just the sort of wonderful ball field that my fictional town of Caerphilly doesn’t have.  

I’d already seen two kids miss balls that had taken bad hops, thanks to the extraordinary number of bumps, dents, divots, hillocks, tussocks, molehills, and patches of tall dead weeds afflicting the field. And was it just the angle I was viewing it from, or was second base a good foot too far to the left?

It’s not just the field.  The bleachers are falling apart.  The dugouts are falling apart, so perhaps it’s a good thing they have no roofs. And there are no real toilets.  Only portapotties.  Don’t get me started about portapotties.

Of course, since Meg’s twin sons are now playing baseball, she’s taking an interest in the condition of the ball field—and if you think they’ll be allowed to stay in the hideous condition in which she first finds them . . . you don’t know Meg. But first she has to deal with Biff, the petty tyrant who’s running the league.  It’s his construction company that’s supposed to be keeping the Caerphilly ball fields in shape—and unfortunately, in Meg’s new job as Special Assistant to the Mayor, she’s also supposed to be getting Biff to complete a construction project for Caerphilly—renovating the town square, also afflicted with more than its fair share of mounds, dents, and weeds.

Meg makes progress during the course of the book, and since the boys, at seven or eight, are only at the beginning of their baseball careers, I’m sure she’ll have plenty of opportunities to work on improving Caerphilly’s baseball facilities.  I may have to revisit that field when Meg’s had a few years to improve them.

Want to know what they’ll look like when she’s finished? Go visit Cove Creek Park.  And you’ll understand why this morning I’m feeling particularly fond of John Grisham.

Weekend Quickie: Wacky Brits?

 

by Mary Saums at the Femmes Fatales. 

 

I just pried a few books out of a stuffed-tight bookshelf, mysteries by two authors, both British, both clever writers and funny, for a little weekend re-reading.

 

 

Oh, how I loved this series! Grace Smith is an excellent private investigator but she doesn't get paid very much. In CUE THE EASTER BUNNY, she's so low on funds that she accepts a job from the tourist board - wearing a bunny outfit and handing out leaflets during the high point of vacation season. Grace is not a fluffy kind of girl. She's tough. And very funny.

 

 

In SICK AS A PARROT, Grace is hired to find an adopted woman's real mother. Unfortunately, the real mother was convicted of murder, and now someone is trying to kill Grace. 

 

I remember these as great books and look forward to re-visiting them.

 

 

DON'T POINT THAT THING AT ME by Kyril Bonfiglioli is one-of-a-kind funny. Actually, there are three novels in the omnibus I have. But all funny, irreverent, clever. The main character, Charlie Mortdecai, is an art dealer with malleable scruples.

Bonfiglioli is often compared to PG Wodehouse. Both do have great comedic timing in common. The big difference is that Wodehouse is rated G, but Bonfiglioli stretches it somewhere between PG and not-quite R. If I'm remembering correctly. 

 

A few quotes on the cover give you a better idea of what these are like ....

 

"You couldn't snuggle under the duvet with anything more disreputable and delightful" - Stephen Fry

 

"A rare mixture of wit and imaginative unpleasantness" - Julian Barnes

 

"A comic masterpiece ... " - The Spectator

 

If you remember reading any funny British novels, not necessarily mysteries, do let me know so I can give them a try.

 

Do you have a particular book you're looking forward to reading this weekend?