Lea Wait's Blog, page 269

A Photo Tour of Maine Wildlife Park

Jen Blood here! I know I’m kicking off the holiday week, and as such should definitely have a properly festive post. I actually don’t, though. I thought about it, of course, but short of sharing my Christmas list with you or going over my New Year’s resolutions, I didn’t have a lot of ideas. HOWEVER, a couple of weeks ago I had an opportunity to do an off-season photo tour of the Maine Wildlife Park, so… It seems to me that something like that is far preferable to listening to me wax philosophic about all the reasons I will eat less chocolate and more greens in 2016. Which, let’s be honest, will most likely not prove true.

For those who don’t know about Maine Wildlife Park, it’s a reserve in Gray that houses rehabilitated wildlife who are unable for a wide assortment of reasons, to return to the wild. Zoos generally tend to depress me, but MWP doesn’t really come across as a zoo – for the most part, the enclosures are expansive, and the animals seem healthy and relatively content. And after my tour in early December, it became clear that the folks who work there truly are fully invested in making certain the residents are given everything possible to maintain a quality of life many would envy.

I meet my tour guide, Courtney, at 11 a.m. on an overcast Thursday in December. My next mystery series features Jamie Flint, a trainer of search and rescue dogs who also does wildlife rescue and rehab – this, ostensibly, is why I’ve purchased this photo pass and guided tour from Maine Wildlife Park. It just happens that I’ve also been wanting to do this for years; a happy coincidence that makes me love being a writer that much more.

Courtney and I truck over to the MWP HQ, where I happily sign a couple of forms promising not to sue if I’m maimed or murdered while on the grounds. Then, we head out.

“Where do you want to start?” Courtney wants to know. I come up empty. I’ve been to MWP exactly once in my lifetime, and it was over thirty years ago. “Deer and moose, then?” she suggests.

That seems like a sound option. Courtney – who is a very cute, knowledgeable twenty-something with dark hair and a nose ring – pilots the big old truck over ruts and rocky roads and parks beside a large fenced area in the woods. My first meeting is with Pie – a piebald fawn who came to the park in the spring.

According to Courtney, the Powers That Be have held off on returning Pie to the wild because she’s had frequent urinary tract infections, and appears to be somewhat immunocompromised, something not uncommon with piebalds. Pie is a pretty brown and white fawn tame enough to come to Courtney and me, clearly interested in what we’ve brought to eat. She’s in the process of being integrated into the herd of deer who live permanently at the park, but the process is a slow one. For now, Pie is on her own. I pet the girl, get a couple of photos, and we move on to an adjacent enclosure.

Next door, a herd of deer weave through trees when Courtney and I enter the enclosure. Several huddle together against the far fence. On the other side, I can see an amorphous white figure standing alone. Pie is watching. Courtney and I move farther in while she explains that many of the deer have been here since they were fawns. They are relatively tame by wildlife standards, but still watchful. As we move farther in, I spot a rack of antlers atop a big buck lying peacefully in the leaves.

“That’s Jay,” Courtney tells me. “He’s pretty friendly.”

I take a photo, waiting for him to get up. He doesn’t. I take another. Step a few feet closer. He watches me with what I take as slight disdain, but he doesn’t move. Since I don’t want to stress him, I decide to retreat, and Courtney and I begin to walk toward the other side of the enclosure. I’m vaguely aware that Pie is still standing at the other side of the fence, watching the other deer. Then, Jay gets up. He’s a big guy with impressive antlers and a peaceful, quiet way about him. And he’s coming straight toward us.

“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” Courtney tells me as Jay walks up to me. He gives my coat an experimental lick. Apparently, he likes what he tastes; he takes another lick. And another. Five minutes later, the left arm of my jacket is wet through. I have to move back periodically so I’m not impaled by his antlers, but otherwise the meeting is amicable. Courtney tells me the bucks don’t usually tolerate being touched or petted, but Jay doesn’t seem to know this. I experimentally set my hand on his broad neck. He eyes me for a split second before returning to my delicious coat. Ultimately, I’m the one who has to make the move to leave – there are still a lot of animals to see. I think I could happily have spent the whole afternoon with Jay, though.

As we’re leaving the enclosure, the other deer in the herd take off running along the perimeter of the fence. On the other side, a white figure runs with them. Courtney is clearly pleased.

“This means she’s starting to be interested in the herd,” she tells me. Pie does indeed appear to be interested, continuing to nose along her side of the fence while the others ignore her. Courtney tells me the fact that they’re paying her no mind is a good sign. Integration shouldn’t be hard from here.

After the deer, we visit the moose. I feed them bananas and sweet potatoes. I fall in love with George, a twelve-year-old bull moose who has an enclosure to himself. George has a white muzzle and kind eyes, and he stands patiently while I stroke his nose and hand over more bananas.

From there, we move on to the coyote enclosure. “She won’t come near,” Courtney tells me, “but we can go inside.”

I’m uncertain, but thrilled at the same time. Wolves and coyotes have long been a fascination of mine – it’s the dog lover in me, I suppose. We go into the enclosure, and Courtney shuts the door behind us. In the brush, my guide points out a coyote who gets up as soon as we set foot inside. She’s clearly nervous, so we stay put as the beautiful girl circles us a few times, never getting close. Courtney and I talk about the difficulties inherent in trying to keep this environment as stress-free as possible while simultaneously welcoming increasing numbers of wildlife fans into the park.

“Stress management is at least fifty percent of our job,” she tells me. Courtney comes from a background in true wildlife rehab, in which the goal is to have as little interaction with the injured animal as possible so it can return safely to the wild. Knowing that the wildlife here will remain captive for the rest of their lives is a whole new ballgame. “I love it here,” she tells me. “They really do incredible work, and always make the well-being of the animals the priority. But it’s been an adjustment.”

We leave the coyote enclosure and keep moving. I go inside an enclosure with two lynx kits, a brother and sister, though Courtney tells me they aren’t particularly friendly. “Just don’t turn your back on them,” she says. I think it’s a joke, but I’m not completely sure. I hope so, since they’re on opposite ends of the enclosure – not turning my back on at least one of them isn’t really an option. The female is on the ground, the male up high. When I turn my back on the female, I take a couple of steps. I turn around, and she’s moved closer. Watching me with what seem very sad eyes, all the while.

A bobcat named Bob paces around me inside the next enclosure. “Sometimes he pees on people, so watch out,” Courtney tells her. I assure her that I’m all right with being peed on by a bobcat. Mauled, no. Pee presumably comes out in the wash, though.

We leave the bobcats (without incident or accident) and move on to a gorgeous mountain lion in an enclosure alone. Courtney tells me they’re trying to find a mate for her, but mountain lions are in high demand. MWP isn’t a proponent of breeding in captivity, which means they have to wait until a mountain lion comes to them from somewhere else – perhaps a circus or other performance venue looking to retire someone, or a zoo interested in a trade. The lion purrs and turns herself inside out while we remain outside the enclosure. She butts up against the fencing like an overgrown pussycat, then “chases” Courtney up and down the hill a couple of times, Courtney on one side of the fence, mountain lion on the other.

The wild birds are our last stop. While I’ve been filled with wonder this whole afternoon, an increasing sense of sadness has crept up over the course of the day. I’m grateful for MWP and the role they play in educating the public and providing a safe haven for injured wildlife, but there’s still something unsettling about seeing animals in captivity. The birds really bring this home, as several housed here have no mates right now. They watch uneasily as I snap my photos and talk quietly with Courtney.

There are owls and hawks, turkeys and peacocks and a gorgeous bald eagle who renders me speechless. “We were using him for educational visits, but we retired him,” Courtney tells me. “He was getting too stressed out. Birds especially have a hard time with that kind of thing, and the last thing we want to do is make things harder for them.”

And that, to me, is the crux of this. In an ideal world, all of these guys would be out in the wild where they belong. But sadly, this isn’t an ideal world. And as long as animals are being struck by cars or displaced by shrinking habitats or raised for our entertainment by zoos or individuals, I’m grateful that a place like MWP exists — a place where the priority is the well-being of the animals they serve, the staff are passionate and knowledgeable about their jobs, and an emphasis on education and forward movement seems perpetually on the agenda. So, thanks to MWP and Courtney for a moving, educational day among the wilds of this great state. I definitely won’t forget it.

Jen is a freelance writer, and author of the bestselling Erin Solomon mysteries. To get your free Jen Blood Starter Library, visit www.jenblood.com. The first Jamie Flint mystery will debut in the spring of 2016. 

Weekend Update: December 19-20, 2015

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Jen Blood (Monday), Maureen Milliken (Tuesday), and Bruce Coffin (Wednesday), with a special Holiday Group Post Thursday and Friday.

In the news department, here’s what’s happening with some of us who blog regularly at Maine Crime Writers:

from Kaitlyn Dunnett: I don’t think I’ve shared this here yet. It’s the cover for the 10th Liss MacCrimmon mystery, Kilt at the Highland Games, which will be published at the end of July.

What do you think?

 

 

 

An invitation to readers of this blog: Do you have news relating to Maine, Crime, or Writing? We’d love to hear from you. Just comment below to share.

And a reminder: If your library, school, or organization is looking for a speaker, we are often available to talk about the writing process, research, where we get our ideas, and other mysteries of the business. Contact Kate Flora: mailto: kateflora@gmail.com

Merry Christmas!

And happiest of holidays from Lea Wait!

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. I shop for gifts all year round, I look forward to the delicious food that is part of the season. I love Christmas carols and sentimental movies. And I collect Santas and other Christmas decorations.

When I lived in New York City I loved to take long walks, looking at decorated store windows and Rockefeller Plaza, and, later, when I lived in New Jersey, I took my daughters and mother to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center.

My home was the place where my single adoptive parent friends and their children gathered, 100-200 strong, to celebrate Christmas early in December. And my extended family gathered at my home Christmas Eve every year.

It was all exhausting, but I loved every minute of it. 

But years have passed since I celebrated joyously with my daughters and sisters and  mother … time moves on, and my family has dispersed.  I’ve married, and my husband, is, if not an absolute Grinch … well, I’ll just say Christmas is not HIS favorite time of year.

So my Christmases have been pared down over the years. Some years we haven’t had a big tree; most years diets dictate Christmas cookies be held to a minimum. My husband and I don’t exchange gifts, so the only gifts under the tree are delivered by the post office or UPS and come from loved ones far away.

Still, I decorate the house, and send Christmas cards and plan special food for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, and I play Christmas carols, and watch sentimental movies. And Christmas, if not spectacular, is still a wonderful time of year.

So, today, I’m inviting you to peek at a few of the decorations that fill my home in December. Welcome — and Happiest of Holidays! 

DECEMBER CRIME ODDITIES

Susan Vaughan here. Because this is a crime writers’ site, crime being one of the key words, I thought I’d check out interesting crimes during the month of December.

According to FBI statistics of crimes reported to law enforcement agencies, violent crime increases during the summer months and decreases through the colder months, although thefts and robberies increase slightly in December. Due to Christmas shopping, maybe. My research didn’t turn up any weird or fascinating or humorous December crimes in Maine, but here are ones in other states.



FOOD HEIST #1… Just this December, a man in Albuquerque, New Mexico, craved his mother’s posole, a traditional Mexican stew so much that he stole it. The twenty-three-year-old ignored his mother’s refusal to give him the dish, so he broke in and ran off with the entire pot. Posole is traditionally made with pork, peppers, beans, and sometimes beef tripe. This recipe for Posole omits the tripe. The son was arrested on a residential burglary charge. No gift for him from mama this year, and nada from Santa.



FOOD HEIST #2… Also this December, in Syracuse, New York, a father and son stole more than $40,000 worth of chicken wings from the restaurant where they worked as cooks. The sheriff’s office said the men placed large chicken wing orders with the restaurant’s wholesaler over eight months time. Apparently the two sold their loot on the street and to other businesses. They’ve been charged with grand larceny and falsifying business records. I can’t imagine how the restaurant owner or bookkeeper didn’t pick up on this boom in chicken wings! Hmm, I wonder if they’re a “flight” risk.



THE CHIP HEIST (not food)… Now for a crime that yielded a much bigger haul, in Las Vegas. In December 2010, a man wearing a motorcycle helmet strolled into the Bellagio Hotel and Casino and held up a craps dealer at gunpoint. The robber ran back through the casino and sped off on his motorcycle, which he’d left parked just outside. His take? $1.5 million, but in chips that would have to be cashed in at the Bellagio or sold to a third party. Weeks later, when the brazen Biker Bandit then offered to sell some of the chips online, undercover police nabbed him. Facts emerged that after the theft, the Biker Bandit returned to the Bellagio to gamble and drink. While casing his target, he stayed at that hotel. Three weeks before, he’d robbed another casino. In an ironic twist, he was the son of a local judge. He received a sentence of three to eleven years for his crimes. And Santa repossessed the bike.



CRYPTIC CLUE MURDER… Finally, here’s a murder with an unusual coincidence. In December 1983, in Hialeah, Florida, a Hispanic man was found strangled to death in a vacant lot. This murder baffled police at first because of cryptic notes discovered at the scene. A plastic bag taped behind a nearby “no dumping” sign contained a poem: “Now the motive is clear and the victim is too. You’ve got all the answers. Just follow the clues.” There was also a riddle that led police to the next clue taped behind a speed limit sign. This poem was equally strange and also gruesome: “Yes, Matthew is dead, but his body not felt. Those brains were not Matt’s because his body did melt…” Eventually the police found an innocent explanation for this confusing mystery. On Halloween, four churches had set up a murder mystery game in which participants created fictitious crimes that involved hiding rhyming clues around the area. The night of the game, a rainstorm forced them to cancel, but the clues were left in place. The real death was a macabre coincidence. Later, the victim was identified and his murder appeared to be related to drug smuggling. Does anyone else think it strange that church groups would organize a murder mystery game, even on Halloween? What would Santa do?

***

My latest release is ALWAYS A SUSPECT, the prequel to my Task Force Eagle series. Not a Christmas story, but it does take place during the holidays. You can find more information about my books at my website.

Plotting: The Thirty Thousand-Foot View

D.A. Keeley here. I’m honored to be invited to write a guest post for the Maine Crime Writers blog. I grew up in Readfield, lived in Presque Isle for a decade, and own a home in Old Orchard Beach. So, although I now work out of state, I consider myself a Maine Crime Writer at heart.

One more plea to be granted Mainer status: I write a series set in Aroostook County, a place close to my heart. My sleuth Peyton Cote is a single mother and U.S. Customs and Border Protection agent working in the fictional town of Garrett, where Fort Fairfield would probably appear on the map.

This fall I’ve been busy. My three-book contract with Midnight Ink is up. The June 2016 book, Destiny’s Pawn, is in production, and I’m pleased that my agent reports Midnight Ink wants to continue the series. This means at least one more Peyton Cote novel. Some writers don’t want to get locked into long-term commitments. However, by day, I chair the English department at Northfield Mount Hermon School, might be the only crime fiction writer to be dorm parent to 60 teenagers, teach AP English and Crime Fiction, and serve as the assistant director of the NMH Summer School. More importantly, I’m a husband, and a dad to 17-, 14-, and 7-year-old daughters (Delaney, Audrey, and Keeley — can you guess where the pseudonym comes from?). This leaves little free time. I write from 4-6 a.m.

Due to these commitments, I don’t want to write on spec: I’m hoping for another multi-book contract — a goal that means producing a three-book series outline, a task that is far from natural to me.

I once attended a keynote address given by Jeffery Deaver who explained that he writes 100-page outlines for 300-page novels. Similarly, my friend Clyde Phillips, executive producer and writer for Dexter and other shows, creates the arc for entire TV seasons and outlines his Jane Candiotti novels in similar fashion.

For me, creating a story arc that spans three books, offers detailed plotlines, and character developments  (including — spoiler alert — a marriage and a new and recurring antagonist) is a new process. And one that is hard as hell. It’s taken all fall. I write procedural novels that revolve around a woman whose primary professional task is to protect the U.S. from acts of terror. The landscape of terrorism changes hourly, so predicting what Peyton’s life will be like two or three years from now is not easy.

Also, I’m just not wired like Deaver or Phillips. To me, writing is like driving at night. I write to the end of my headlights, see where I’m at, and drive on. Likewise, we all write the books we’d like to read. I get jazzed by compelling characters and crisp dialogue; plot is always secondary. So creating a plot line and character arcs for what amounts to 1,200+ pages isn’t, as my grandmother in Augusta used to say, my cup of tea. Prior to this fall, my “outlines” only consisted of character sketches, detailed backstories and motivations for the book’s major players. The subsequent composing process meant taking those characters, putting them on the stage, giving them one or more conflicts, and seeing what they do.

The three-book outline is now finished and off to my publisher for review, and my fingers are crossed. The work was hard but valuable. Beginning with a story arc and outlining are new strategies for me — and a lot more work up front. But, if I can execute the plots well, the books should be fast-paced and tight.

I’m rolling the dice and betting on plotting, hoping that starting with a thirty thousand-foot view will make for better mysteries.

As D.A. Keeley, John Corrigan was a 2015 Maine Literary Award finalist.

BIO

D.A. Keeley is John R. Corrigan and K.A. Delaney and the author of nine novels. Most recently, Keeley is author of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection Agent Peyton Cote series, set along the Maine-Canada border. Bitter Crossing (2014) was a Maine Literary Award finalist. It was followed by Fallen Sparrow (2015). Destiny’s Pawn will be published in June 2016. Keeley was born in Augusta, Maine, and lives with his wife and three daughters at Northfield Mount Hermon School in western Massachusetts, where he is English department chair. A Mainer through and through, he tries to get to Old Orchard Beach, Maine, as often as possible. You can see what he’s up to by visitingwww.amazon.com/author/DAKeeley ordakeeleyauthor.blogspot.com or on Twitter (@DAKeeleyAuthor).

 

A Writer’s Year

By Noel Farquar, author of The Mean Streets and Fire Hydrants of Chicago, Ballou O’Brien Mystery#1

January: So full of happy expectations for the New Year. Must complete 85,000 word second-in-series mystery by November. First-in-series Amazon ranking currently 211,111 on the hardcover. Feeling optimistic. Only challenge to productivity is spouse who keeps coming into study and muttering about snow removal. Doesn’t she know I have a novel due? Word count so far: 7345. Onward!

February: Oh happy day! Publisher has dropped the price on my ebook to $1.99 for the month. Amazon ranking has zoomed up to 25,436 and I am Number One on the Amazon Bestseller List for Kindle ->Mystery, Thriller, Suspense -> Mystery -> Hardboiled ->Male PI ->Chicago Setting -> In the 1970s ->From Canine Point of View! Ahead of even Seymour Blatsky, the king of the subgenre. Gave in to urge to text Blatsky, “Suck it!” Let’s see him pretend he doesn’t know me at Bouchercon this year, even though we’ve been on the same panel four years running. No response so far. May have texted a few more times. Total Word count 10,712. Hard to write when you are checking Amazon ranking hourly. Also, spouse has been coming into study, dripping on carpet, and waving snow shovel in menacing manner. What does she want, some kind of credit? She lives here, too.

March: Alas, ebook price has returned to $12.38 and Blatsky has returned to the Number One slot at Kindle ->Mystery, Thriller, Suspense -> Mystery -> Hardboiled ->Male PI ->Chicago Setting -> In the 1970s ->From Canine Point of View. Curse you, Seymour Blatsky, undisputed owner of 1970s Chicago, as seen by a dog. BTW, he finally texted back. “Who is this?” As if he didn’t know. Can also report all that snow shoveling has made spouse eerily strong. Total Word Count 15,170.

April: The Amazon reviews have started rolling in from my former period of heavy sales. Tell me please, what do these mean?

Hated it. The dog had such a co-dependent personality. He should see a shrink, LOL. Will not read another.

Could not put it down. Best book I have ever read. Can’t wait for the next one!

Please stop sending me these surveys. As I’ve said, time and again, I’ll review the books if I want to.

He’s no Blatsky.

 

Total Word Count 18,756. Exhausted from hourly check for new Amazon reviews. Also, Goodreads.

May: Unexpected call from agent today. Forget, since we rarely talk on phone, how young she is. Anyway, news not good. She’s heard some rumors. Bad winds blowing. Any chance I can turn my second-in-series in early? I tell her this is “unlikely” (given that I only have 20,013 words–I do not tell her this). She says, the sooner I have it in and on the editorial calendar for next year, the better. Nuf said. I ask, given my February performance on Kindle ->Mystery, Thriller, Suspense -> Mystery -> Hardboiled ->Male PI ->Chicago Setting -> In the 1970s ->From Canine Point of View, am I not safe? She is unimpressed.

June: Book Jail. Spouse is leaving sandwiches outside study door and muttering things about a “summer vacation.” “Don’t you know I have a novel to write?” More muttering. Good news: Total Word Count 50,347.

July: Book Jail. No sandwiches. Perhaps spouse has gone on vacation of which she spoke? Have had many pleasant chats with pizza delivery kid. Total Word Count 75,236. We’re on our way, baby!

August: Another call from agent. Publisher has merged, or more accurately, “been absorbed.” New guidelines: will only publish authors who own Number One in their Amazon Bestseller List category, and since the merger “partner” publishes Blatsky, I am on the chopping block. My editor thinks I have a shot of hanging in if I shift my novel from Chicago 1970s to Seattle 1980s and switch out dog for cat. I protest, have never been to Seattle, don’t know anything about 1980s, and am allergic to cats. Agent’s response, “That’s what Google is for.” Total Word Count -25,567. Also, spouse has not returned.

September: Seattle in 1980s turns out to be fascinating time. Cats, though, are bastards. Doing my best to make this one likable. No chance he’ll be co-dependent, though, LOL! Total Word Count 85,974. First draft is done! Still no sign of spouse. Several items of furniture and electronics also missing.

October: Bouchercon. Once again I am on panel on 1970s Chicago from canine point of view with Blatsky. “Nice to meet you,” he sniffs when we are introduced. Nice to meet you! This is our fifth panel together. Of course, am wondering about the wisdom of paying all this money and flying all this way, especially on a deadline, to be on panel about 1970s Chicago with a dog, when my series is apparently now set in 1980s Seattle with cat. Ah, well. Total Word Count 86,456. Returned exhausted to find marital bed removed from home.

November: Received royalty check for period January-June. Apparently, number one spot on Kindle ->Mystery, Thriller, Suspense -> Mystery -> Hardboiled ->Male PI ->Chicago Setting -> In the 1970s ->From Canine Point of View not as lucrative as I’d hoped. Puts me in a bit of a jam as spouse has unaccountably stopped paying utility bills. In good news, will be sending The Grungy Streets and Sand Boxes of Seattle, Snuffles O’Brien Mystery#1 to editor tomorrow. Fingers crossed.

December: Another call from agent. The bad news, editor has been sacked. The good news, new editor loves manuscript and is prepared not only to publish but to offer additional two book deal if I can change story back to 1970s Chicago with dog, by first of the year. Can I! Have nothing but time on my hands now that I am burning remaining furniture for heat, recharging laptop in car, and typing by firelight. Feeling so lucky. God, I love this life!

Hope you had a great year, too. Happy Holidays to all, and Good Bless Us Everyone!

Weekend Update: December 12-13, 2015

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Dorothy Cannell (Monday), Barb Ross (Tuesday), special guest John Corrigan (Wednesday), Susan Vaughan (Thursday), and Lea Wait (Friday).

In the news department, here’s what’s happening with some of us who blog regularly at Maine Crime Writers:

from Kathy Lynn Emerson: I’ll be guest blogging at Dru’s Book Musings on Wednesday, with a giveaway of one copy of Murder in the Merchant’s Hall on offer.

 

An invitation to readers of this blog: Do you have news relating to Maine, Crime, or Writing? We’d love to hear from you. Just comment below to share.

And a reminder: If your library, school, or organization is looking for a speaker, we are often available to talk about the writing process, research, where we get our ideas, and other mysteries of the business. Contact Kate Flora: mailto: kateflora@gmail.com

The Inevitable Cat

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett here, blatantly plugging Murder in the Merchant’s Hall, available in hardcover and ebook formats in the U.S. since December 1. The Mistress Jaffrey Mysteries, Murder in the Queen’s Wardrobe and Murder in the Merchant’s Hall, are hybrids. Each of these novels combines murder with espionage. The publisher labels them thrillers. They are set in the sixteenth century, so they are also in the historical genre. There is a story arc/subplot involving the personal life of my sleuth and sometime spy, Rosamond Jaffrey. But when it comes to finding out who dunnit, Rosamond is an amateur, not a professional. The novels contain a minimum of gore and there is no gratuitous sex or violence. The mystery is centered on a closed community—the very definition of a traditional mystery. And, since I write at the cozy end of the traditional spectrum there is, of course, a cat.

Don’t groan! There are very good reasons for including animals, particularly cats, in mystery novels. Top of the list, naturally, is that the author has cats, loves cats, and can’t resist writing about them. I plead guilty to those charges. The cat in the Mistress Jaffrey Mysteries is modeled after Feral, one of the three felines who currently share our home. Beyond that, however, cats can serve several useful purposes in fiction.

They humanize their owners. Rosamond is not the easiest person to like. She’s prickly, defensive, too well-educated to fit easily into a male-dominated society. As a child, she was spoiled rotten. She has also inherited the worst characteristics of both of her parents, neither of whom was exactly a paragon of virtue. Rosamond is wary of showing  affection to other people, even her own husband, who was her best friend growing up. Since she clearly needs a relationship to show her in a softer, gentler light, I gave her Watling, a large gray and white striped cat she rescued when he was a kitten. She named him for the place she found him, Watling Street, the old Roman road that runs from London into Kent.

Cats may not function as well as dogs when it comes to standing guard or hunting game, but they are no slouches when it comes to defending their territory. They are also good judges of character. If a cat takes a dislike to someone, that may not mark that person as the villain of the piece, but it does send a clear signal to be wary of him or her. By the same token, if Watling allows anyone other than Rosamond to pick him up, hold him, or pet him, you may be sure that person is one of the good guys.

In Murder in the Queen’s Wardrobe, Watling signaled his approval of one particular character. When Rosamond had to be absent from home for an extended period of time, that person was the only one who could get Watling to stop howling all night long. I must add an aside here. Feral, the model for Watling, does not howl. He doesn’t even meow. He’s the most silent cat we’ve ever owned. Perhaps that’s why I made Watling obnoxiously loud.

This, too, qualifies as “hunting”

In Murder in the Merchant’s Hall, Watling has a more important role, that of distracting the men who come to search Rosamond’s house. He performs it admirably, and once again makes it clear which characters are wearing the white hats.

What does Feral think of all this? Silent as always, he’s not saying, but since the two other cats with whom he shares our home are featured players in the contemporary mystery series I write as Kaitlyn Dunnett, I expect he feels it’s about time he had his fifteen minutes of fame.

What do you think about using cats or other animals as continuing characters in mysteries? And if you see a cat on a cover, do you automatically think “cozy”?

 

 

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett is the author of over fifty books written under several names. She won the Agatha Award in 2008 for best mystery nonfiction for How to Write Killer Historical Mysteries and was an Agatha Award finalist in 2014 in the best mystery short story category for “The Blessing Witch.” Currently she writes the contemporary Liss MacCrimmon Mysteries (The Scottie Barked at Midnight) as Kaitlyn and the historical Mistress Jaffrey Mysteries (Murder in the Merchant’s Hall) as Kathy. The latter series is a spin-off from her earlier “Face Down” series and is set in Elizabethan England. Her websites are www.KathyLynnEmerson.com and www.KaitlynDunnett.com

 

Dream it, then Do it

Kate Flora: I begin with a confession. I stole this title from my mother. It comes from a newspaper column she wrote years ago, when she used to do a weekly column called, “From the Orange Mailbox.” It was about identifying one’s dreams and then acting on them. It made such an impact on my childhood best friend, Karin, that she read it at mom’s memorial service. I come back to it from time to time when I find myself cowering under my desk or spinning in small, slow, unproductive circles. And because my mother was very brave and I admire bravery, I remind myself of her advice as I try to shove myself forward.

So I stole the title. And why not? It’s a good title. As we all know, there is no copyright in titles, imitation truly is often the sincerest form of flattery, and there is more right than wrong in heeding the advice of one’s mother. So here I am, as we come into the season of craziness and challenged schedules, when we’re all getting too busy to THINK about anything, writing about the process of thinking and planning for the year ahead, and about to encourage you to join me in considering what might change the shape of your upcoming year.

Perhaps you’re saying, “Okay, but what do those tightrope walker’s feet have to do with this?” But you already know, don’t you. For most of us, taking chances on doing new things out of our normal comfort zone can be as scary as we imagine walking on a tightrope would be even if we were only a few feet off the ground. This is especially true about the things we dream. There’s a big risk involved in taking the steps to move from a dream, with all of its inherent possibilities, to the reality. Our steps may be clumsy. Our execution inept. Often we don’t even know how to start. But most of us learned to walk, and to read, and to drive a car.

Because I teach and have done a lot of consulting for writers, I’ve watched a lot of people taking those first tentative steps toward being a writer. If you’ve always dreamed of being a writer, it can be truly scary to actually clear the desk and sit down to start writing. What if you can’t do it? What if you discover that writing is actually hard? Second confession: It is. What if the flowing sentences and stories you always imagined aren’t flowing? Third confession: We sometimes write for months to reach that amazing phase where things flow, but when they flow it is one of the world’s greatest highs. And it never would have happened if we hadn’t been in the chair, writing, when it hit. What if you discover that your first drafts read like “See Dick and Jane run?”

Well, the truth is that realizing dreams isn’t easy. But looking ahead, ask yourself which is better, to exit this life having lived fully and taken some chances or to have held your dreams tightly in your fist and never risked finding out if they could be realized?

When I was a kid, I was such an avid reader that I used to take twelve books out of the library every week. I’d read six on the weekend and the other six during the week. The library was my temple. Writers were amazing people. I was completely entranced by their ability to take me into another, imagined world and hold me there through the power of their storytelling. I haven’t changed much. I still find writers amazing and I’m still entranced when I pick up a book that keeps me from seeing “the bones” or analyzing what the writer is doing, when I don’t want to stop reading. After twenty-five years at the desk and with fourteen books and numerous short stories on the shelf, I’m still excited about writers and writing.

Back in those library days, I dreamed of being a writer.

Taking the chance of realizing that dream may not be easy. I was in the unpublished writer’s corner for eight years before I sold a book, and sustaining my faith and effort took most of my courage for a very long time. But lately I’ve been thinking that it’s time to start expanding the dream. I’ve been asking myself what else is important, what else do I want to try out? Do I want to write different things? Have different adventures? Learn new things to broaden my perspective and help me see the world differently? I’m finally old enough not to be embarrassed about trying to do things that I may not be good at. I sing like a crow, but sometime soon I’m going to hunt down someone who has compassion for crows and take singing lessons. You probably won’t find me sprawled sexily across a piano like Michelle Pfeiffer, as we age we have to be cautious about breaking our osteopenic bones, but I may yet croak with joy.

I dream of writing a competent screenplay, despite the daunting nature of Final Draft. Of writing the books I’m scared to write. I dream of learning to take an interesting photograph where the people in it aren’t red-eyed, or blurred, or carefully centered by the type of photographer who once worried about coloring inside the lines. I’m trying to learn to color outside the lines. To tap dance. To stop putting myself into a box.

So far, I’ve only managed to kick a few holes in the sides of the box, but light is getting in.

What have you always dreamed of? What are you afraid to do? What’s holding you back? What might change that?

As soon as we’ve decorated, cooked, decorated, cooked, undecorated, cleaned up, and rested, let’s start thinking about some new adventures. Dream it? Sure. But then why not do it?

What Are You Doing About It?

Vaughn Hardacker here: Recently I responded to a facebook post from someone whose mother and father were old friends of my parents. I posted a comment in regards to the government allowing 10,000 Syrian refugees into the U. S.: “Before we allow any refugees from Syria, we should take care of our homeless veterans (I’m paraphrasing here)” She in turn posted a reply that could have been taken as someone shaking a finger in your face: What are YOU doing to help the homeless?

My reply: I am a member of a group that is currently working to establish a veteran’s homeless shelter in Aroostook County. We have already met with representatives from the offices of Senator Collins (we have also teleconferenced with the senator), Senator King, and Congressman Poloquin and members of their offices are involved in the effort. We looked into a location at the former Loring Air Force Base and after a period of time cut off all communication with them because each time we met they came up with a different excuse why they couldn’t commit to leasing us a location. The truth of the matter is that a private company entered into the discussion and threw more money at the Loring Development Committee (a situation of which we made the above mentioned officials aware). Our argument is that we wanted a long-term facility, whereas the private corporation may pull out at any time that they feel it is not profitable.  The thing that irritates me the most is that when Loring closed, the base was given to the State of Maine. The state then gave it to the LDA and the LDA is choosing money over the welfare of our veterans. We have not given up though and are looking at sites in Caribou and Van Buren.

I am the Senior Vice-Commandant of Meo Bosse Detachment 1414 of the Marine Corps League and, in conjunction with Cary Medical Center in Caribou, I have established the Aroostook Veteran’s Advocacy Committee, of which I was elected chairperson. I mailed a letter to every veteran’s organization in Aroostook County inviting them to select a representative to the committee. At-Large members of the committee are from the Veteran’s Administration, the offices of our federal and local elected officials. We held our first meeting on October 3, 2015 and of the thirty-three organizations invited, fifteen sent representatives. Our goal is to present the Veteran’s of Aroostook County as a single entity when pushing for veteran-related legislation. The AVAC will be speaking for over 1,000 Aroostook County Veterans and elected officials from such a sparsely populated part of the state will pay attention to the prospect of gaining or losing such a large block of voters.

Other than that I haven’t been doing much.

By the way, she replied back saying she was proud of me and forwarded the post to several people she knew were dealing with the same issues. Think about the impact that turning a bunch of government owned empty buildings into housing for the homeless across the country could have!

So as the holidays close in on us, give thanks for what you have and don’t forget those who are not as fortunate.