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! 

Arf!

Here's that guest blog you didn't get on Tuesday. I had something else planned for today, but this is so much better than anything I could ever come up with, that there was no contest, really. Enjoy!

Everything I Know About Writing, I Learned From My Dogs

By Beth Terrell

There is an old bumper sticker floating around that says, “Dog is my co-pilot.” As a writer, I could say “Dog is my muse,” or “Dog is my inspiration.” My husband and I share our home with two papillons: Luca (a.k.a., His Lordship of Eternal Cuteness, Light of a Thousand Suns) and our new puppy, Willow (a.k.a., She Who Seeks to Topple the Throne). While they never remind me to use the active voice whenever possible or to write 1,000 words a day (4,000, if I want to keep up with the tireless Joe Konrath), I have learned much about writing from them. Here are just a few of the lessons my dogs have taught me.

Love unconditionally. At first glance, this seems like a lesson for living, rather than a lesson for writing, but think about that manuscript you’re working on. Parts of it are polished and elegant, while others are awkward and rough. You give birth to a first draft that seems like the most beautiful baby in the world. Then you realize it’s a red, wrinkled, colicky creature that leaks at both ends and squalls like an air raid siren. You love it anyway. It’s that unconditional love that allows you to shepherd your little darling through the gangly, acne-pocked stage and mold it into the magnum opus you always knew it could be.

Take the time to do things you enjoy. Even a work-driven border collie occasionally takes a few minutes to gnaw on a bone or roll in a rotting squirrel carcass. We writers should do the same. Well, okay, not the rotting squirrel carcass. I lean more toward a Hugh Jackman movie and a box of Godiva chocolates. But you get the point: balancing work and play is important.

Savor every moment. We writers spend a lot of time in our own heads. I sometimes get so caught up in plans for the future (If only I could afford to write full time…Just wait until that hungry young agent comes to his/her senses and decides to offer me representation) that I forget to appreciate the wonder of creating worlds and people on paper. When Luca is sniffing the neighbor’s mailbox, he isn’t thinking about what he’s going to do when he gets home or which halter he’ll wear to his clicker class. He’s completely immersed in the messages left him by that sweet little terrier mix down the street. He’s living in the now. It’s easy to focus so intently on the goal that we forget to enjoy the journey.

Feel everything intensely. Can any creature express such utter happiness (“ahhhh, belly rub”) or such utter misery (“Crate? What do you mean, crate?”) as a puppy? It’s easy to fall back on facile descriptions of emotion, but a writer who can convey genuine emotion has a rare gift indeed. Watching the sincere emotion of my dogs reminds me to strive to be genuine in my writing.

Be gregarious. Luca loves people. On our walks, when he sees a stranger in the distance, he wags his whole body as if to say, “Look, Ma. Somebody over there wants to meet me!” His joyous greetings elicit smiles and outstretched hands. As a shy writer, I watch him work the crowd and realize that folks really aren’t so scary. All I have to do is show an honest desire to get to know them. (Of course, just to hedge my bets, I wrote Luca into my second book so he could accompany me to signings and attract the crowd.)

Don’t pee on the carpet. Okay. I already knew that one, but let’s think about it for a minute. Couldn’t we metaphorically equate our dogs’ soiling the carpet with the kind of self-sabotaging behavior some authors engage in (procrastination, missing deadlines, badgering his or her agent at all hours, boasting about his or her accomplishments ad nauseum, etc.)? A dog who can’t control his bladder misses out on opportunities to visit public places and other people’s homes, while a well-mannered, housebroken pup may go to the dog park, to a friend’s house, on puppy play dates, and outdoor craft festivals. Likewise, a writer who can’t control his or her behavior may alienate agents, editors, and potential fans. I know of at least one well-known author whose obnoxious behavior at a signing ensured he would never be invited back to the bookstore that held the event. On the other hand, readers will often buy books by authors who have been kind to them, even if those books might not ordinarily be in their sphere of interest.

And finally: Carpe diem, because no one can seize the day quite like a dog, especially one with literary aspirations.

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Beth is the author of the Jared McKean mysteries, the vice president of the Middle Tennessee Sisters in Crime, and the coordinator of the Killer Nashville mystery conference. She's also one of the nicest human beings you'll ever meet. Make her feel welcome, people!

JennieB

PS - happy 4th of July to everyone!