Who Is Your Favorite Sleuth?

By Martha Reed

Everyone I talk to who’s a mystery writer has come to it from one of two ways: either through true crime stories or because of the mystery stories they read and at some point decided to write. We all know that Truman Capote blurred the line between true crime and fiction with IN COLD BLOOD and I can promise you that I had a couple of sleepless nights after reading about the Manson Family in HELTER SKELTER but what I wondered about for today’s blog is: who is your favorite sleuth?

Did you start out with Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys? Stumble across a massive old volume of A. Conan Doyle on your grandfather’s bookshelf as I did and disappear for so long your mother had to come looking for you? The Hound of the Baskervilles changed the way I viewed storytelling forever and to be honest there was a serious period of adolescence when I considered Sherlock Holmes a close personal friend; forget the fact that he was fictional. Mere existence was irrelevant.

But the sleuth who really led me to it was Lord Peter Wimsey and I’m proud to say I stumbled upon him myself. I have an old copy of a collection of Lord Peter short stories that I know was mine – my name and the date 1982 is written on the flyleaf and it kind of freaks me out to think of where I was in time and in my life when I must have purchased this book. I had graduated from college and was starting out, so I know money must have been tight and yet somehow I plunked down $7.95 (plus tax) for this collection. I know I loved it – as I reread some of the stories I still have bits of it memorized and the binding is so broken that I have to hold the book together with both hands or the pages fall into my lap. This book means so much more to me now than it ever could have 27 years ago. Whoever would have guessed I’d be a mystery writer? Yes, all the signs were there but I didn’t know enough to figure out what they meant.

To honor my favorite sleuth, Lord Peter Wimsey (and his creator Dorothy L. Sayers) I’d like to insert a little bit of the writing here from one of my favorite short stories The Undignified Melodrama of the Bone of Contention. Lord Peter’s horse has picked up an engine bolt in her shoe and he has had to stop and dismount to remove it. He's about to meet the Death Coach of the Burdocks:

“The nut resisted his efforts, and the mare, touched in a tender spot, pulled away, trying to get her foot down. He soothed her with his voice and patted her neck. The torch slipped from his arm. He cursed it impatiently, set down the hoof, and picked up the torch from the edge of the grass, into which it had rolled. As he straightened himself again, he looked along the road and saw.

Up from under the dripping dark of the trees is came, shining with a thin, moony radiance. There was no clatter of hoofs, no rumble of wheels, no ringing of bit or bridle. He saw the white, sleek, shining shoulders with the collar that lay on each, like a faint fiery ring, enclosing nothing. He saw the gleaming reins, their cut ends slipping back and forward unsupported through the ring of the hames. The feet, that never touched the earth, ran swiftly – four times four noiseless hoofs, bearing the pale bodies by like smoke. The driver leaned forward, brandishing his whip. He was faceless and headless, but his whole attitude bespoke desperate haste. The coach was barely visible through the driving rain, but Wimsey saw the dimly spinning wheels and a faint whiteness, still and stiff, at the window. It went past at a gallop – headless driver and headless horse and silent coach. Its passing left a stir, a sound that was less a sound than a vibration – and the wind roared suddenly after it, with a great sheet of water blown up out of the south.
“Good God!” said Wimsey. And then: “How many whiskies did we have?”

To really see how good this writing is, read it aloud and see how melodically it trips across your lips and over your tongue. I swear I can even hear the cadence from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer in it but that could be my over-imagination.

To finish up, I’m curious to hear your story. What led you to a life of crime and/or who is your favorite sleuth? And Why?

FOCUS

by Gina Sestak

What's the book about?  That is the question.  We focus on honing our elevator pitch and struggle to cram a complex story into a simple one-page synopsis.   The underlying wisdom seems to say, "Focus the story.  Concentrate on one major plot-line, with one or two subplots.  You don't have to include every possible crime known to humanity in one book."

Makes sense, right?  Well, maybe.

I just finished reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson.

On it's face, this book is just another twist on the traditional locked room mystery, although in this case it's a locked island.  The amateur detective, disgraced financial journalist Mikael Blomkvist, is hired to find out what happened to a teenaged girl who had disappeared from a small island forty years earlier, at a time when the only bridge was blocked by a fiery truck accident.  

Sounds simple enough, but over the course of 500-some pages, we encounter murder, kidnapping, rape, incest, animal mutilation, torture, arson, homicidal maniacs, burglary, theft, child abuse, attempted murder, abuse of power, serial killers, embezzlement, fraud in government contracts, drug dealing, arms dealing, computer hacking, ill-gotten gains in secret bank accounts, identity theft, drowning, intimidation, fraudulent passports, international intrigue, Nazi-collaborators, corrupt politicians, and financial market manipulation.   It might be easier to list which crimes aren't in this book but I can't think of any.  The story also includes sexual relationships, journalistic ethics, wrongful imprisonment, tattoos, allegations of libel, false information, travel, isolation, disguises, and coping with 35 degree below zero weather.  Oh, and I should mention a multitude of characters, including Blumkvist, his lovers, his friends, his co-workers, his nemesis, his employer (an old man whose dozens of family members and employees also participate in the plot), and, of course, the title character, her boss, her mother, and her acquaintances.

Sounds like a mishmash, but somehow Larsson makes it work.  There is no point at which the story gets too confusing to follow.  So how did he do it?

Memorable characters seem to be one key.  Another is Blumkvist's ability to explain complicated matters in an easy-to-follow manner.  For example, here is Blumkvist's take on the economy.  Although specific to Sweden, where the story is set, it could just as easily apply to the American economy and Wall Street:

"You have to distinguish between two things - the Swedish economy and the Swedish stock market.  The Swedish economy is the sum of all the goods and services that are produced in this country every day. . . .  The stock exchange is something very different.  There is no economy and no production of goods and services.  There are only fantasies in which people from one hour to the next decide that this or that company is worth so many billions, more or less.  It doesn't have a thing to do with reality or with the Swedish economy."

See what I mean?

So, back to the topic.  Have you ever had the urge to include every possible crime in a book?  Did you squelch it?  If not, how did it work out?

Clue!

Last month, I had the opportunity to take part in a few of the events surrounding Barnes & Noble's annual Mystery Month.

Turns out, every Barnes & Noble in possession of a CRM - a customer relations manager - was supposed to host a murder mystery party sometime during Mystery Month. Since I'm buddies with the CRM in my local store, I got invited to be a part of the proceedings at the Barnes & Noble Cool Springs in Franklin, Tennessee.

Here is the cast and crew of our little play, all the suspects in the murder of Barry Underwood, late owner of Underwood Vineyards, whose body has recently been found under the hardwood floor in the wine cellar, after a little help from an earth quake. Barry has been missing for five years, and we're all gathered together to figure out whodunnit.

From the left we have moi, AKA Hedy Shablee, owner of a struggling vineyard (and a part-time counterfitter). Barry and I were old friends, and I knew about a secret tunnel into the winecellar where he was killed. He had figured out about my counterfitting, and I may have killed him to shut him up.

Next to me is Keith Donnelly, author of the Donald Youngblood Mysteries, who played Ralph Rottingrape, manager of Underwood Vineyards. After Barry 'disappeared,' Ralph took over the vineyard as well as Barry's fiancé, now Ralph's wife. Except he's not actually Ralph Rottingrape; the real Ralph died in prison, and his cell mate, Dario Santini, took on his identity.

Next to Keith is B&N CRM Robbie Bryan, AKA Otto van Schnapps, a German traveler in wine. He came to see Barry on the night of the murder, with a briefcase full of money that he left behind at Underwood Vineyards. However, he has been seen carrying the same briefcase since. He is also an art thief, whom Barry was blackmailing. (And let me just mention Robbie's totally kick-ass German accent. Go, dude!)

On the other side of Robbie is the wonderful Elizabeth Terrell (who wrote that marvelous blog post for us awhile back, about her dogs). Beth played Marilyn Merlot, Hollywood starlet, who carried on a flirtation with Barry until he ensured she won the title of Miss Grape, and then poof, she disappeared. On the very same night that Barry died. Coincidence? Or something more sinister?

Then we have Chester Campbell, who played Papa Vito Santini, the 81-year-old Italian vintner who started Underwood Vineyards with shoots from his family's grapevines in Italy, at the behest of the Underwoods some 60 years ago. Papa felt unappreciated by the Underwoods, who treated him like an employee instead of with the respect he felt he deserved. He's very handy with a ring knife, the murder weapon.

And lastly, there's Mary Saums, AKA Tiny Bubbles. Barry's fiancé until he disappeared/died; Ralph's wife now. She really ought to be called Tiny Rottingrape, but who can blame her for keeping her maiden name under the circumstances? She claims she had no reason to want to get rid of Barry, but she was carrying on with Ralph AKA Dario under Barry's nose, and now she's got it all: Dario/Ralph AND Underwood Vineyards.

Feel free to try to guess who the murderer is, although I'm not sure I've given you enough clues. Or maybe I've given you too many. I've got an advanced reader copy of 'A Cutthroat Business' I'd be willing to donate to good cause, anyway, if anyone wants to play. Let's just see how it goes.

And if you haven't ever tried to host a murder mystery party, let me just tell you that it can be tons of fun, especially when the participants are willing to go out on a limb and get into character, maybe even with the addition of some costumes. Something to think about for the holiday season, maybe? There are lots of choices out there in addition to A Taste For Wine and Murder; just follow the link above, for Amazon, and see what you can find.

Until next time, I'm Hedy Shablee. Toodles! 

Words, Glorious Words!

by Paula Matter

One recent morning I couldn't wake up. On my fifth cup of coffee and the caffeine had still not kicked in. Someone suggested I might be drinking decaf by mistake. She said it happened to her–in fine print the word 'decaf' was on the label.

So I checked. I put the coffee can on my kitchen table and read the label.

Nope. Definitely caffeinated. After finishing that fifth cup of coffee, the left side of my brain woke up and had some questions.

How come it's not table and lable? Or, tabel and label? (I'm playing havoc with my spell check here. Hee hee!)

I've been a lover of words since I was a child growing up in Miami. And it wasn't always easy.

My mother was from Boston; my father from New Orleans (Nawlins). Here's a typical conversation in our house...

Dad: "Goils, get your poises and get in the car."

Mom: "I pahked the cah over theah by the yahd."

Huh? Oh! He was telling me and my sisters to get our purses and she was letting him know where she'd parked the car.

Got it. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad.

That was years ago and it all came back when I moved north with my Yankee husband. My first dinner at my in-laws home, my mother-in-law said, "Time to red* off the table."

Say what? I sat there for a minute until I figured out it was time to clear the table. I've since learned one can red out closets, attics, basements, etc.

It was raining the day we moved into our home. An elderly neighbor stood watch nearby. As we lugged furniture back and forth, he said, "Youins daresn't move that davenport while it's spittin."

Huh? Aha! We shouldn't move the couch while it's drizzling.

Here's a fun quiz for y'all/youins/youse guys:

http://www.tonilpkelner.com/learnsouthern.php


I scored a perfect 20 and according to Toni, "Not only are you Southern, but I think you and I are kin."

Hot damn!

*I'm not quite sure I'm spelling it correctly. Anyone out there know?
                                             ***************
 Feel like you've read that before? Feels, sounds, looks familiar? Deja vu? Nope. After trying to upload my post twice and having problems, I cheated and used this old post from last summer. It was too late to contact my blog partners, so I did the next best thing.

Sentimental Settings

By Annette Dashofy

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about setting. Location, location, location. Some books provide such a rich description of the setting, I feel like I’ve been there. Or make me WANT to go there. Remember Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil? I longed to go to Savannah for months after reading that one.

Thanks to Joyce, I’m currently on a Julia Spencer-Fleming kick. I want to write like her when I grow up. She makes me believe I know that rural community of Miller Kill as well as if I’d grown up there.

My current work in progress is set in a fictionalized version of my own rural township. I fictionalized it so I could borrow bits and pieces of neighboring communities and throw them in without being lambasted by the locals. There are a lot of family farms and old coal mining towns. I noticed the names of the kids in the homecoming courts. The last names are the same as the kids I went to school with. There isn’t a lot of emigration. Even less immigration. Everyone knows everything about everybody. Or so they think. Which makes this place the perfect location for my story.

Getting more specific, there is a house that tends to show up in every novel I write. I moved it to West Virginia for the two manuscripts set there, and now it’s back in its original Pennsylvania home. This particular house has been the residence for two of my protagonists.

Why?

Totally selfish reasons. I grew up in this house. It was my grandparents’ home and my great-grandparents’ before them. In its day, it was a showplace. And that’s how I wish to remember it. So, I write it like that. In two stories, I had the protagonist refurbishing the house. In my current story, a different protagonist lives in half of the house, sharing it with the elderly owners of the place.

Here’s what it looked like over 80 years ago.

Here's a picture of my brother celebrating Christmas in the house, early 1950s.

And here’s what it looked like back in the 70’s.

That's me in the yellow pants in the last one. And that’s how I want to hold it in my memory. Not the way it looks today.

I intended to slip inside and photograph the room the birthday party pictures were taken in. But I’m a chicken. With holes in the floor and gaps in the ceilings and roof, I chose to stay outside. Especially since I was by myself. No one to rescue me if I ended up in the basement with the house collapsing around me. Trust me. It doesn’t look anything like it used to.

My grandparents’ farmhouse isn’t the only thing I revive from the Great Beyond in my stories. The cats and horses in my manuscripts are all based on those I’ve loved and lost throughout the years. It’s my way of immortalizing them…of keeping them a little closer to my heart. Sometimes I change their names. Sometimes I don’t. I’m not sure WHY I changed their names. They aren’t about to sue me.

Maybe I’ll change them back.

Do any of you use sentimental locations or pets or even long lost loved ones in your works? And how do you choose your setting? Do you pick it because it’s a place you know well or because it fits your story? Or both?

By Pat Remick

There were two "fun" things on my list of 2009 goals: seeing a moose in the wild and meeting author Dennis Lehane. I figured that fulfilling either would be fascinating – and I was correct.

I met goal No. 1 in June when, using the “but it’s my birthday” excuse, I dragged Husband No. 1 and Son No. 2 to northern New Hampshire to find not one, but four, of the magnificent creatures in their natural habitat. (Click here for the recap.)

I figured tracking down Dennis Lehane would be more difficult. Although he lives part of the year in the Boston area, which is about 50 miles away, I don't believe he's made many public appearances since the 2008 publication of “The Given Day,” his epic set in Boston around the time of the 1919 policemen’s strike. One presumes that’s because he’s been at his desk writing or in Florida teaching.

Many people are familiar with the films made from three Lehane books: the incredible “Mystic River” with Sean Penn and Tim Robbins; “Gone, Baby, Gone” with Casey Affleck and Morgan Freeman; and the upcoming “Shutter Island” due out in February and starring Leonard DiCaprio, Mark Ruffalo and Ben Kingsley.

I am a huge fan of most of Lehane’s work. I was blown away by “Mystic River” and hated “Shutter Island.” But I have never wavered in adoring his gritty mystery series featuring smart-mouthed Boston Private Investigators Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro. “Gone, Baby, Gone” is the fourth of five of those books. When he decided to end the deliciously dark string, I was devastated. I blame my grief for not previously reading “The Given Day” or “Coronado,” his short story collection.

So you can imagine how thrilled I was recently to learn that not only will his next book resurrect my favorite series, he was going to sign the new paperback version of “The Given Day” at my local chain bookstore. That night I lined up with about 45 other fans -- plus camera-toting Husband No. 1. To my dismay, store management was so apprehensive about the potential size of the crowd that it downgraded his “reading” to a “signing.” Nonetheless, I was still going to meet Dennis Lehane – and my goal.

When it was finally my turn to bring my book to the desk for his autograph, I told him about my goals to see a moose... to which he interjected “that’s cool” … and to meet him, to which he said, “awwwhhh” as if he were truly touched (although maybe he just thought I was “touched,” as in mentally unbalanced).

In any case, it made it easier to issue an invitation for him to make his first appearance at the annual New England Crime Bake Conference for mystery writers and readers, which I’m on track to co-chair in November 2010. However, our conversation continued longer than the store personnel and fans preferred. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Husband No. 1 snapping photos while the manager seemed to be wavering between calling security and tackling me himself. Apparently the manager didn't understand that I had goals to meet.

I finally moved on after Dennis wrote down his assistant’s contact information. A few days later, she e-mailed that next year’s Crime Bake is on his calendar.

With two months still to go until the end of 2009, I am delighted to have already met my “fun” goals and contemplating the 2010 list. It’s much more enjoyable than dwelling on those pesky objectives I’m still trying to meet – like finishing my novel and cleaning my home office. 

Did you set any “fun” goals for 2009? Did you accomplish them? What motivates you to accomplish the not-so-fun goals?

Pittsburgh Highs and Lows

Working Stiffs welcomes the super-fantabulous (yes, I know it's not a real word) CJ Lyons today! Woo-hoo!

Pittsburgh Highs and Lows

by CJ Lyons

Thanks for having me back here at Working Stiffs!!! Instead of focusing on crime fiction or my new release, URGENT CARE, I thought I'd take a trip down memory lane of the best and worst of Pittsburgh in the news lately.

Even though I've recently moved away from PA, I still read the Pittsburgh papers every morning (thank you Internet!) and here are some of the highs and lows:

High: The Steelers!!! What a Super Bowl! White-knuckled until the final seconds, I loved it!

High: The Penquins!!! While I lived in Pittsburgh the Pens won two Stanley Cups and I was at several games including a finals game. Plus, I had a bet with a friend from Detroit about the Cup and won tons of money for St. Judes, double yeah!

Low: The Pirates....say no more.....

High: the relative lack of drama around the G-20 summit--although I'm sure anyone caught in the commute and traffic snarl would call it a low.

Low: G-20 protestors smashing the window of Pamelas--I mean really! Who could have any problems with Pamelas pancakes???

Not-so-sure: the Greenpeace demonstrators hanging from the West End Bridge. Very out of the box thinking, but how much good did it do their cause? Think of all those rescue boats, trucks, and other vehicles....not exactly carbon neutral!

Low: closing the Carnegie Library branches.

High: the successful move of the Children's Hospital to its sparkling new facility in Lawrenceville

Bottomless pit low: the line of duty deaths of three police officers in Stanton Heights

And, finally, a high point for any fiction writer: the alligator who started a fire in an old school that was also filled with rabbits and other assorted critters......I gotta figure out a way to get that gator in one of my stories!

(BTW, the gator in the photo isn't the Pittsburgh gator, it's one I found ten feet from my steps!)

So you tell me, have I missed anything in my Pittsburgh top ten? Let me know!

What wild and wacky stories are you wanting to include in your books?

Oh, and for all you writers out there, I'm hosting a contest where you can win a critique of your query package from my agent, Barbara Poelle of the Irene Goodman Agency. Go to my site http://www.cjlyons.net for details.

Thanks for reading!
CJ

About CJ:

As a pediatric ER doctor, CJ Lyons has lived the life she writes about in her cutting edge suspense novels. Her debut, LIFELINES (Berkley, March 2008), became a National Bestseller and Publishers Weekly proclaimed it a "breathtakingly fast-paced medical thriller." The second in the series, WARNING SIGNS, was released January, 2009 and the third, URGENT CARE, on October 27, 2009. Contact her at http://www.cjlyons.net

Sisters, sisters--there were never such devoted sisters...

by Joyce

My baby sister turns 50 in a couple of weeks.

Last year around this time, she sent everyone in the family an email saying she rented a big-ass house in Deep Creek for the week of Thanksgiving. She invited everyone to come down for the week and celebrate her big day. On her dime. Make that lots and lots of dimes. I'm looking forward to it.

We're splitting up the cooking duties--each of us will take a night to cook, then we'll all make our "specialties" on Thanksgiving. I'm already being nagged to make the apple pie. And of course, we'll all pitch in to make our mom's recipe for the stuffing (made with butter and sausage--definitely NOT low calorie!). I also volunteered to make a couple of breakfast meals (I have killer recipes for bacon-cheese fritatta and orange-cinnamon baked french toast).  

We stayed at the same house several years ago for a long weekend and had a blast. Baby sister made the unfortunate choice of a bedroom in the basement next to the room with the pool table. She thought it would be quiet down there.

Right.

My guys took fireworks. And beer. Lots of beer. All the guys played pool and drank beer. And set off fireworks right outside baby sister's window. Heh.

This time, she picked an upstairs room. I'm not sure who gets stuck with the basement room. Probably me. You know what they say about pay back.

Hmm. Maybe I need to get a few more gag gifts for her gift basket.

It seems like the older we get, the more time we want to spend with each other. For the last few years, we've gone on a "Sister's Weekend" every spring. With one sister who lives in North Carolina and one who travels a lot for work, it's one of the few times the four of us can be together. And it's fun!

Does anyone else do anything like this with family members? Or friends? It's not too late, you know!

Just for fun--no prizes--does anyone know what the title of this post is from? No Googling!

Since Paula guessed where that line was from, enjoy this: