Lea Wait's Blog, page 288

How to Research A Murder

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, introducing a fellow mystery writer with an interesting story to tell. I first met Sarah Wisseman several years ago, but we reconnected at Malice Domestic this past spring. Sarah was responsible for bringing an excellent session on forensic anthropology to the program–the mystery of the boy in the iron coffin. It was a fascinating look at the way DNA, facial reconstruction and other forensic methods, together with basic genealogical research, combined to identify remains found during an excavation. In her novels, Sarah calls on her own background as an archaeologist to create fascinating characters and compelling plots. Here is the story of how she came to write her latest novel, Burnt Siena.

 

How to Research a Murder

by

Sarah Wisseman

Most writers agree it helps to know your setting by visiting in person, not just by googling it or looking at maps and pictures. I did both for my newest mystery, Burnt Siena, recently released from Five Star/ Cengage Learning. I visited the magical city of Siena, Italy, for the first time in 1975, and returned for a conference in 2008. The last time, I took pictures—not just tourist pictures—but snaps of cafés and apartment buildings, flower shops and food displays, where I might want to set my characters.

I walked the streets, stretched out on the paving stones of the Piazza del Campo on a warm Sunday afternoon, ate pasta with cream sauce and mushrooms. But it was the repurposed convent where I stayed, and the unexpected “Ospedale Psichiatrico,” a former insane asylum where our conference was held, that convinced me Siena was perfect for my story.

A key part of my plot was inspired by the controversy over the purchase of a Greek statue for nine million dollars by the J. Paul Getty Museum in California almost thirty years ago. Believing the statue was an unusually well-preserved, ancient but original work of art, the Getty put it on display. Then a similar statue, an obvious forgery, turned up and the fight was on. Despite numerous scientific tests, art historians and curators could not agree whether the Getty statue was truly ancient, or one of the best modern forgeries ever produced. Writing Burnt Siena compelled me to review Greek sculpture styles (can an original statue combine the hair style of one period and the carved feet from another?), marble patinas (can a false patina be complex enough imitate the crust of ages and to fool modern scientists?), and the constant tug-of-war between stealing antiquities from their excavations and forging them. Both illegal practices feed each other because antiquities, both originals and clever forgeries, can fetch such high prices in the art market.

My love of Siena and my fascination with art forgery and antiquities smuggling drove me to invent a young art conservator, Flora Garibaldi, who is fresh out of advanced training and beginning a new job working for Restauro Lorenzetti, a respected firm of art conservators in Siena. But after her colleague and roommate Ernst Mann is found dead in the street below their apartment balcony, Flora’s dream job turns sour. The Italian police, after ruling Flora innocent of murder, persuade her to spy on her employers. Flora is trapped between the competing demands of the Lorenzettis: genial Beppe, sulky Pietro, and hunky and amorous Marco. Flora thinks Marco is being used by his family to divert police attention and generate income by replicating Greek sculpture. Will Marco’s statue be sold as a legitimate, museum-grade copy, or as a Greek “masterpiece?” Flora’s emotional turmoil grows as she works to protect Marco, avenge Ernst, and fight her growing attraction to policeman Vittorio Bernini.

The sequel to Burnt Siena will be set in Rome, where Flora and Bernini work with the Carabinieri’s Art Squad to investigate a rumor about Nazi-looted art stashed somewhere in the catacombs under the city.

 

Sarah Wisseman, a retired archaeologist at the University of Illinois, is the author of four Lisa Donahue Archaeological Mysteries set in Boston (Bound for Eternity and The Fall of Augustus) and the Middle East (The Dead Sea Codex and The House of the Sphinx) and one stand-alone historical mystery (The Bootlegger’s Nephew) set in Prohibition-era Illinois. Visit her at sarahwisseman.com

 

Rockies, But No Bullwinkle

Just one of the hills between Lake Louise and Jasper

When Kate and I were kids growing up on Sennebec Hill Farm, trains were still running regularly from Brunswick to Rockland. When the humidity was just right on certain summer days, we could hear the train whistle all the way from the Warren depot just south of Route One. My fascination with trains has never left me. When Beth and I went to Colorado a few years ago, we rode on five different trains, four of which were steam locomotives. It was an unforgettable trip and when we got home we agreed that our next big vacation would be a train trip through the Canadian Rockies.

A week after I retired from the Hartland Public Library, we boarded a plane in Bangor and after changing planes in Washington and Toronto, we landed in Vancouver where we were met by warmth and cloudless skies. Transportation was pretty easy and straightforward. You can get a shuttle bus to almost every hotel and the elevated train runs right down to the waterfront. We arrived a day early so we could have extra time to see some of the sights.

Vancouver’s outer harbor at sunset

First up was the Sun Yat Sen Gardens which combines a traditional Chinese water garden with a waterfall and an authentic Ming scholar’s residence. The entire structure and garden was built by 51 craftsmen who came from China and spent two years building it as close to the way similar ones had been built in the 1300s. The intricate halls and walkways were constructed with precise joinery and without the use of nails, screws or glue. Pottery, paintings and wood carvings from that period have been used to enhance the authenticity. It’s both beautiful and relaxing.

An example of what’s at the Sun Yat Sen Garden

Numerous people cautioned us about avoiding a three block area not far from the gardens. These are where Vancouver’s considerable homeless population gather. We skirted them, but in reality, the homeless are everywhere in the city because its climate is mild. We passed one young woman sitting on the sidewalk looking down at the pavement while a cardboard sign lay across her lap that said “Will eat your leftover food.” The image stuck with me the entire trip. To show you the contrast, North Vancouver which lies beyond the Lion’s Gate Bridge is composed of homes where 80% cost in excess of a million dollars.

Two of the seaplanes waiting to take you away

We still had time and energy, so Beth and I walked down to the waterfront where a sea wall walkway begins and runs for 2.5 miles around the peninsula that is almost completely covered by Stanley Park. It doesn’t take long to realize how cosmopolitan British Columbia and specifically Vancouver are. I’d almost say that English speaking Caucasians were in the minority as we walked along the harbor. Beth and I wondered just how many different languages we heard that afternoon. Energy conservation and recycling are taken seriously in British Columbia. One of the buildings by the waterfront, the Vancouver Convention Centre has a roof of natural grass and vegetation that has been growing successfully for years. Just to the right of it is a huge pier where two cruise ships were docked as we walked past. On the other side of the convention centre is a smaller dock where half a dozen sea planes are ready to take you on a flight that lasts anywhere from ten minutes to as long and as far as you can afford. The inner harbor where we walked also has a huge cargo port where freighters are loading and unloading colorful containers from all over the world. Further down the harbor, several big bridges span the Fraser River as it empties into the Pacific.

Easy to say I do in a location like this.

We walked as far as the rose garden in the park and got to watch a wedding take place in covered walkway that had climbing roses of every possible color in bloom. To the left of this walkway stands an amazing cedar tree that looks like it must have died back at some point before resuming growth. The base of the trunk has to be at least eight feet in diameter. I must say that the roses were well worth the aching feet we tended to when we returned to the hotel.

One heck of a tree at one time

Monday morning we boarded the Rocky Mountaineer and headed east. The train passes through one of the busiest railway yards in north America. I’m not sure, but I believe Adam, our tour guide, said that 30,000 railway cars pass through there daily. For the first thirty miles or so, we ran at a pretty slow speed because of urban congestion, but that made the early photo opportunities all the better. We’d be lazing past fields of high bush blueberries while eagles soared overhead, looking for a meal of salmon in the Fraser River, while we enjoyed snow capped mountains in the distance. We’re used to seeing bald eagles, but there were a number of golden eagles as well. In fact, I saw five flying over the river at one point.

Possibly the luckiest shot on the trip.

When the train sped up we entered wilder country, more mountains, plenty of rapids on the river and waterfalls in the higher elevations. You tend to think of British Columbia as wet country, but Kamloops, our first stop is actually in high desert country. Beth asked Adam when we could expect to see big horn sheep. He said they’d start appearing around the 23 mile marker west of Kamloops. Sure enough, right after we passed the signpost, they started appearing on the ridges above us. I got one really good shot of a flock that was resting. British Columbia has been dealing with the same drought that afflicts California. In fact, the ski areas shut down in February because of a lack of snow. We could see evidence of its effects on the hillsides and along the roadways in Vancouver. Even so, the rivers were running high because of the snow melt and almost every one was blue-gray in color due to the silt from runoff coming down the mountains.

We passed several big lakes that were carved out during the last ice age. A couple are over 500 feet deep and according to Adam, are very cold no matter what time of year it is. The air temperature, however was right up there. It was 95 when we got to Kamloops. Since our car was just behind the locomotives, we often got to see wildlife before it was spooked. There was a platform between each car where people could stand and take photos without having to deal with window glare. Beth pretty much lived out there both days. On the portion between Kamloops and Banff, we got to cross the river several times, went through numerous tunnels, including two that are known as the Spiral Tunnels because they loop over each other and cut several miles and a couple thousand feet off what the original journey required.

By now, we were seeing areas where avalanches and rock slides are common. In fact, there were several spots where cement or metal shed-like structures have been built over the tracks because of frequent rock slides Everywhere you look there’s something worth photographing. Between us, we must have taken a thousand pictures. That’s the advantage of having a good quality digital camera. We both have Canon Rebels and brought two batteries apiece. When both of our first ones ran out of juice earlier than expected, we worried about having enough power to shoot things all the way to the end of our trip, but that didn’t happen.

One of many seen on the trip

Our hotel was the Banff Ptarmigan. A chat with the desk clerk reinforced what I suspected, many of the people working in the hospitality industry in British Columbia are from Australia. The Canadian government seems to be far less concerned about aliens that ‘he who must not be named’ down in Augusta. In fact over half the people we toured with were from overseas. One gentleman I talked to was from Australia. He was semi-retired, but when he worked it was as a tour bus driver running 21 day excursions through Africa. It sounded like a pretty decent job to me. Banff has a population of 4500 who live there year round. During the height of the tourist season, both summer and winter, it can swell to over 90,000. Stores sell bear spray because so many wander into town and they have specially made trash cans that are bear proof. Elk also wander into town frequently, but none did so while we were there. We had a bus tour on our second day there that took us to the Banff Gondola which climbs to the top of a mountain overlooking the town. It’s 7486 feet above sea level and we had a nearly cloudless day to enjoy the view. From there, we drove to a couple scenic trails. On the first, we saw a coyote and several hoodoos. See the accompanying photo to get a look at them for yourself.

Like the line in Blazing Saddles

Several miles up the road, we stopped to admire three bighorn sheep who were lying right beside the road and looking like they owned it.

Getting there is half the fun

Being an avid reader makes traveling a challenge. I packed five books for the trip as well as downloading half a dozen advance reading copies from Edelweiss. However, I had three of them read by the time we reached Vancouver and ripped through the other two before we got to Banff, so off to the only bookstore in town we went. I bought two more YA novels I’d never heard about and wrote down the titles to half a dozen more. We also visited a candy store that had so many different kinds you’d need to visit it daily for years in order to try all of them.

The hotel served a terrific breakfast buffet. Any place that has unlimited bacon cooked well gets five stars in my book. While we were waiting for an open table, I had one of those ‘you’ll never believe me’ tourist moments. I overheard two women conversing in what I assumed was Mandarin, but with Australian accents.

More dang mountains than you can shake a stick at.

From Banff, we boarded a tour bus and headed north. Our first stop was Lake Louise which has an elegant hotel with a lake right behind it. I have no idea what the room rates are, but I bet they’re a lot higher than Motel Six. Next up was a short walk to a scenic lookout where we could see several lakes below us and glaciers in the distance.

Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?

Between the lookout and our next stop at a wild waterfall, we stopped twice to photograph black bears who were so busy gorging on dandelions that they barely acknowledged our existence. We also slowed so we could admire and get quick shots of five mountain goats. Our next to the last stop before entering Jasper was a buffet lunch followed by a trip onto the Athabaska Glacier in an Ice Explorer, a unique vehicle with giant tires.

I’m so not gonna change the tire when it goes flat.

There are 23 in existence, most running here, but one is in Antarctica. After the glacier, we stopped at a fairly recent addition to the tourism opportunities in Jasper National Park, the Glacier Skywalk. Imagine standing on a sheet of glass while looking straight down 918 feet at the bottom of a canyon. Built in a large semi-circle, this walkway gives you some pretty nice photo opportunities. I expected to feel nervous when I walked out on it because I don’t handle heights very well, but it was too much fun taking pictures and watching other people look nervous for me to get queasy.

Not a good place to lose your glasses.

We stayed overnight at Whistler’s Inn when we reached Jasper. One thing we agreed on before the trip was that we’d splurge a time or two on meals. That night, we enjoyed an Indian buffet. While the entrees were tasty, the highlight was mango payasam for dessert. I’ve since found numerous recipes for it online and plan to make my own for an upcoming meal. We had half a day to explore Jasper and one of our discoveries was one of the best pastry/coffee shops I’ve ever encountered. My opinion of the Bear’s Paw seems to be shared by lots of other people because it came up almost immediately when I did an online search for bakeries in Jasper. It’s one of those places that if you lived nearby, your clothing would cease fitting properly in just a few weeks, but you wouldn’t care. From there, we wandered around and found an art gallery where both of us bought a print we really liked.

The last stop before heading to the train station was a bit unsettling for me. I’d asked the woman at the are gallery if Jasper had a library. She said they did and it was just a block away, but she wasn’t sure whether it was open. That turned out to be the understatement of the vacation. The town had gotten a 3.5 million dollar grant to renovate and expand it. However, the sign on the fence said it would be completed in July of 2013. It was pretty clear from what we could see that they were nowhere close to finishing the project. While we were looking at it, a gentleman who was a retired engineer stopped to chat and filled us in on the story. He said that the town had hired a very incompetent architectural firm, they hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that there was asbestos that had to be removed and the initial plans had failed to take into account the need to be up to bearing the weight of shelving and books. All this was further complicated by the installation of a roof that began leaking almost immediately. When I asked whether there was an alternative location to use while construction was going on. He rolled his eyes and said the woman who was the town librarian had been forced to house the books under the bleachers at the community center and gave up in frustration. I’m still shaking my head over the fact that a town of that size has been without library services for several years and may well lack them for a couple more.

We returned to Vancouver on an overnight Via Rail train. Sleeping berths take a bit of getting used to, so sleep that night was minimal. Fortunately there was a recreation car with electrical outlets, fresh coffee and unlimited fruit and cookies, so I suffered in comfort. We slowed or stopped numerous times on the return journey. In fact, the train arrived in Jasper three hours late. Apparently this isn’t unusual because freight trains have preference on the tracks and there are lots and lots of them running. I counted over 200 cars on several of the ones passing by. I also noticed that most of them were using only two engines. When I hopped freights back in my college days, similar trains used four or five, so there must have been some major improvements in diesel locomotives over the years.

One of many playing on a perfect day.

We had another day and a half in Vancouver, so we tried to get to Granville Island on Saturday afternoon, but couldn’t find it, so we visited the H.R. MacMillan Space Centre near the outer harbor. It was an interesting tour. We don’t think of Canada as being part of space exploration, but several Canadians have been astronauts and there are many examples of equipment developed by Canadians to aid in space exploration. We sat in on a very interesting lecture/demonstration on the history of gravity and the challenge of defining what exactly it is. This was followed by a show in their planetarium. We noticed an abundance of kites behind the museum so we headed that way and discovered there was a kite festival going on. At one point there must have been more than 50 kites flying and we were treated to a synchronized flying demonstration when eight people flew the same design in giant loops. We walked back to our hotel and when we crossed the bridge, we realized that Granville Island was right below us. That particular bridge has a designated bike-way on the right side which includes a counter to keep track of how many bikes cross it. As of June 13th, more than 115,000 had done so in 2015. In fact bikes were prevalent in every place we visited on our trip.

Who gets the hangover, the goat or the cheesemaker?

After a quick supper, we took advantage of the final part of our tour package and went to the top of the Vancouver Lookout. This is similar to the Space Needle in Seattle, but is atop one of the hotels. It affords you a view in all directions and is especially pretty at sunset. We both took a lot of photos while waiting for the sun to go down.

We spent the majority of Sunday on Granville Island. This was a bustling manufacturing spot in the 1800s, but progress, fires and a changing economy left it looking pretty dismal in the early part of the 20th century. Fortunately, people saw its potential and today, it’s home to some 300 shops, affords numerous places for musicians to perform and has a huge open air market. It’s one of those places creative people gravitate to time and again. If I lived in Vancouver, it’s where I’d go whenever I had any free time. In addition to enjoying some really beautiful photographs, I bought a print that was more expensive that most things I buy and we had an outdoor meal of fancy cheese and fresh cherries. As we were riding back to the hotel, Beth and I agreed that it was the best part of our time in Vancouver.

The flight home was uneventful and we’re still looking over all the pictures, realizing that there are very few we don’t want to keep. This is a trip I’d recommend to anyone who likes the beauty of nature, coupled with a really nice city experience.

Spending a Maine Summer in the Library

Kate Flora here, probably making you wonder why on earth, if summer has finally come to Maine, anyone would want to be in the library. Well, there are many surprising reasons. First, of course, is because Maine libraries are where you’ll find plenty of authors giving fascinating talks about their work. This is a chance to hear your favorite authors talk about their process, how they research and how they plot, or discover writers you may never have heard of before.

Pretty obvious, yes, but also a good reminder. An author talk can answer those questions

At the Vose Library

you’ve always wondered about. Where do we get our ideas? How do we shape our series characters and keep them interesting to ourselves and our readers? What kind of research do we do–and the surprising answers you’ll get. How do writers find our experts, so we can know what we’re talking about, and make our stories feel authentic? What are the writers reading themselves?

There is also the fact that librarians and library volunteers put a huge amount of work into making their events interesting. At Jesup in Bar Harbor recently there was a fabulous display of my work, complete with microscopes and magnifying glasses. In Liberty, a week ago, Dorothy Cannell, Lea Wait, and I were the guests at a Death and Desserts party, complete with a chalk outline of a body outside the front door (a tracing of Dorothy’s delightful and handsome grandson, Jack), the building was draped in crime scene tape, and the desserts were both horrifying and delicious.

The Vose Library, in Union, sometimes does an author event called “Soup and Suspense,” where the library volunteers make delicious soups and homemade bread and the author brings the suspense.

It’s not only author talks, though. When I visit a library, the librarian usually prefaces my introduction with a listing of other events the library is conducting and I want to attend them all. Garden tours? Check out the Raymond Village Library: http://www.raymondvillagelibrary.org/

Knitting groups? Writing groups? Knit your boyfriend? http://jesuplibrary.org/events/

How about a magician? A talk about raising chickens? Maine’s Poet Laureate Wes McNair? That’s all happening at the Orrs Island Library, along with the world’s greatest book sale starting on August 5th. http://oilblogcom.com/events/

Wine tastings? Gardening classes? Fundraising cruises? Kids programs? Arts and crafts? The list of events Maine libraries are putting on this summer for your enjoyment are endless, and endlessly creative.

Maine Crime Writers and alums at Books in Boothbay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And while not at a library, the Boothbay Harbor library is actively involved in Maine’s annual summer book fair at the Boothbay Railway Museum on July 13th, where you can meet many of your favorite authors.

So the next time you drop in to use the internet, grab a book or a movie or an audio book or music CD, take the time to look around and see what else is going on. You just may find yourself spending your summer at the library.

What’s the magic bullet to getting published? Join the community.

Hi! Maureen Milliken, checking in.

Even before I was a published mystery writer (still hard to get used to that phrase), possibly because I did a lot of freelance book editing, or maybe just because I’m a know-it-all, I’d get asked a lot what the “secret” to getting published was. Since my book, Cold Hard News, came out earlier this month, I’ve been asked with more frequency.

Fellow crime writer Gerry Boyle reads from his latest book, “Once Burned,” at a signing in Waterville, Maine, last week.

I get it. The process of getting a book published is soul-searing, life-sucking hell. Take it from someone who sent out query letters for nearly five years (with some hiatuses and lots of revisions along the way). It seems there has to be some kind of magic bullet.

My answer over the years is the same as my answer now, and can be boiled down to three basics: preparation, hard work and tenacity.

The details, of course, can be found on the Internet. But those three things apply to  everything from writing a publishable book to finally getting it published to getting people to buy it once it’s published.

I could write reams and reams on any of the stops in the road from first sitting down to write to the post-publishing blitz. I won’t today (yes, I hear your huge sigh of relief), but there’s one offshoot that takes all three into account I never gave a lot of thought to until recently: Make yourself a part of the mystery writing community. It’s never to early.

I don’t mean in a cynical way. I’m not really a befriend-people-so-they’ll-help-you-out type. I don’t have the energy, social skills or salesmanship for that.

I mean it in an organic way. Be a part of a community and it’s a lovely, generous community that will take you in and be there when you need them.

One thing became clear when I became serious about getting to work on my mystery novel several years ago: I had no flipping idea what I was doing. So I joined the Mystery Writers of America (a couple years later I also joined the awesome Sisters in Crime). I signed up for CrimeBake, the conference held every November in Dedham, Mass., and sponsored by those two organizations.

I didn’t sign up thinking that I would network, so much as that I’d sop up information that would point me in the right direction.

I was right about the information. I learned more about what was needed and expected to write a book and get it published at that conference and from those organizations than I knew existed. But the really cool thing was I started meeting people. People who were doing the same thing I was.

I’m not great at social situations. I talk — a lot — but am not good a small talk. I enjoy people, but have never been a champ at making friends and giving a roaringly positive first impression. I’d rather sit back and observe and eavesdrop than put myself out there and be treated like the dorky kid trying to sit at the cool kids’ table. But when I went to my first CrimeBake in 2009, I vowed that I’d try to act like a “normal” person, be friendly, outgoing, make small talk. What did I have to lose?

So I did. That first year, I re-introduced myself to John Radosta, who I’d met through a mutual friend when we all went to a Bob Dylan concert together. Not only does John feel about Dylan the way I do, but also is a kick-ass writer who turned out to be one of my most insigtful readers. The awesome Brenda Buchanan sat down next to me at a table in the bar one year, and it turned out not only had we been reporters on the same beat in York County, Maine, way back in the 1980s, when she regularly beat me on stories, but we both lived in Maine and had novels that had a journalism angle. She asked me to read the manuscript for Quick Pivot, which was released this spring, but also insisted on reading mine, Cold Hard News, which I insisted was finished. She was gently persistent and I gave in. After her read, I realized it wasn’t finished and she helped me tremendously to make it a better book.

A little starstruck, I introduced myself to Paul Doiron at the Friday night cocktail party shortly after his first novel, The Poacher’s Son, was released. He turned out to be a genuinely nice guy and over the years has become a friend. I introduced myself to Gerry Boyle after a seminar he did on writing character, figuring it was OK because he once worked for the newspaper I now work for, so that would be a talking point. He turned out to be a nice guy, too.

I also made a lot of other friends and connections, including meeting Lisa Jackson and June Lemen, with whom I’d form a writing group in New Hampshire while I was struggling through the early days of writing Cold Hard News. Julie Hennrikus, Barb Ross, Kit Irwin — the list goes on.

The whole time I was forging these friendships, I wasn’t thinking of how it would pay off for me. I was just grateful that all these cool people took the time to get to know me and talk writing, mysteries and life.

The ones who helped with my book over the years helped the final product become what it is, and I’ve always known that and been grateful.

The bigger surprise came once the book was being published. Paul Doiron, Gerry Boyle, Kate Flora, Barb Ross and Brenda Buchanan — all very busy people with their own books just released, or on deadline for ones about to be — agreed to write blurbs for me. And they were awesome.

Kate and Brenda came to my launch party and helped make it a rousing success.

And just last week, I had the privilege of taking part in a book signing-reading at a Waterville, Maine, book store with Gerry, where he talked more about my book than he did his own.

So what’s the magic bullet? Hard work. Tenacity. Preparation. And become part of the community. But not because you’re looking for payback some day, but because being part of a community that does the same thing you do will make you better in every way.

Weekend Update: June 20-21, 2015

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Maureen Milliken (Monday), Kate Flora (Tuesday), John Clark (Wednesday), special guest Sarah Wisseman (Thursday) and Vicki Doudera (Friday).

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

From Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson: I’m off to the Historical Novel Society North American Conference in Denver on Thursday. Imagine it! Everyone who will be there is really into historical fiction. That’s a rare treat. So is the workshop I’ve signed up for, a three hour class in fighting with sword and dagger. Expect to see a post on that subject, hopefully with pictures, when I blog in July.

Kate Flora and Barb Ross joined Brenda Buchanan in Brunswick on Friday for a mystery discussion. Fascinating talk about choosing and shaping characters, why Maine as a location, and the challenges of being alone.

Wow, Kaitlyn, this sounds like fun!

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of fun, last Sunday, Kate Flora, Lea Wait, and Dorothy Cannell were guests of the library in Liberty, where the librarian and library volunteers put on a spectacular “Death and Desserts” event. If you’ve never seen one of these, here are some snapshots, including a chalk outline of Dorothy’s grandson, Jack, which seems to have been run over by a car.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

Me? A Criminal?

Dorothy Cannell here: Bleak confession: Unlike my longtime amateur sleuth Ellie Haskell and, more recently, Florence Norris, I’ve never had any desire to stick my nose anywhere near police business, even if it involved nothing more ominous than a lunch break. The thought of a personal brush with The Law fills me horror, dread, panic and at least a dozen other (even loosely synonymous) emotions. Cowardice, not virtue, has kept me on the straight and narrow.

This goes back to my childhood when I was convinced that if I dropped a candy wrapper in the street a policeman would materialize out of thin air to clamp a hand on my shoulder and march me off to prison. After which I would find myself in the dock at the Old Bailey being pronounced guilty by the jury – to the hand-rubbing delight of the bewigged judge who would then don The Black Cap. This being the tip-off (I’d read mysteries with British courtroom scenes) that I was to be taken to a Place of Execution to be hanged by the neck until I was dead – as opposed, I supposed, to be left with a bit of a sore throat.

This past Tuesday morning began pleasantly with no foreshadowing of what was to befall – the fear, the ignominy, the shame. The blow fell when my husband Julian suggested we take our eighteen-year-old grandson Jack (staying with us for a few days) out for breakfast.

“We could go into Rockland,” he said, “you have to go in anyway to renew your driver’s license.”

True. My birthday is coming up and this was the expiration year. Or so I had thought. It occurred to Julian that it might be possible to take care of the matter on line. A task he kindly offered to perform. This necessitated my handing him my license with its hideous photo. A bellow followed.

“Expiration date 2O14!”

“Oh, surely not,” I soothed, as yet unable to face the severity of the case against me.

Where Dorothy feared she’d end up!

“You’ve been Driving Illegally for a year!

“Consequences?” I squeaked.

He disappeared to return with a fat manila folder and began rifling through the contents.

“What are you looking for?”

“Proof of citizenship.”

“Why?”

“This will necessitate starting from scratch, going through your entire life with a fine toothcomb. You’ll need your birth certificate, passport, proof of residence.”

“Will it help that I know my mother’s maiden name?” I strove to remain upright as we made for the car. I knew I didn’t deserve to be carried and did not relish being dragged by my feet.

During the drive to the Driver’s License Offices in Rockland (Julian at the wheel) I persuaded myself that a prison sentence was unlikely, but this optimism was dashed when we pulled into the parking lot and saw that the Department of Corrections was located next to the Department of Motor Vehicles.

“They may give you a break,” Julian consoled when I pointed this out, “and let you off with a heavy fine.”

“Or just make you take the test again,” said grandson Jack encouragingly.

“The driving part?”

“Perhaps just the written.”

That was the moment of true horror. The ultimate penalty. The Rules of the Road was not a book I had enjoyed and the thought of having to re-read it made the idea of incarceration quite pleasant.

As it turned out, all fears were for naught; when my number was called a very pleasant

But in the end, she went free….

woman informed me there was a grace period for late renewal. I even passed the vision test without being required to wear glasses. But on leaving I did assure Julian I had learned my lesson. My new photo was even more dreadful than the last. This seemed to cheer him a little although I did experience the dark suspicion that that it would have given meaning to his day if I’d been marched off in handcuffs.

Life should never be dull even in the non-fiction world.

 

THE ROAD TRAVELED

Vaughn Hardacker here. This has been an exciting period for me as my first published novel, SNIPER, was selected as a finalist for the 2015 Maine Literary Award in Crime Fiction along with Kate Flora (the winner), Paul Dorian, and John Corrigan (writing under the pseudonym of D. A. Keeley) and my second novel in the Mike Houston, Anne Bouchard series, THE FISHERMAN, was released on June 2nd. Driving back north from the Awards in Portland I began reminiscing about the road I took to get here. Like that taken by most published writers the road was bumpy in several places, however with the help of a cadre of people I was able to traverse it.

I wrote my first short story in seventh grade, being enamored of the B horror movies of the late fifties and early sixties I wrote a horrible vampire tale. I made the mistake of showing it to a couple of friends in my homeroom. I was shocked when Penny Montieth (nee Celino) read it aloud to the class. I learned at that young age why we read our work aloud and put that career aside post haste.

As it will, time went on and I acquired a wife and a daughter and life got in the way of living. I did little writing outside of college term papers and spent a great deal of my free time in my one fanatical avocation…reading. In 1989 I suffered through a severe bout of what I now know is PTSD and was at my bottom. I had come close to losing my family, my job, and I believe my sanity. After a month of intense in-house therapy, I reconnected with my family and came to realize that I hated my job. More importantly, I decided to write a novel. The result was ELEPHANT VALLEY, as of now a still unpublished pseudo-memoir of my time as a helicopter door gunner in Vietnam. The book didn’t go anywhere but served to make me realize that I could write a lengthy work (the manuscript was just over 100,000 words). What followed was THE WAR WITHIN, also unpublished, the book followed the life of a deeply disturbed teenager who grew up in the slums and became a war hero. I enetered the manuscript in a literary contest and won a $1,500.00 second place prize. Now I was certain that I could be a writer.

Enter a predator agent. A friend of my brother recommended that I contact this agent, so I gladly did so. The agent told me that since I was an unpublished author she charged a $2.00 per page reading fee. I knew nothing of the business of writing so, being fat, dumb, and happy–not necessarily in that order–I sent the manuscript and the check. I’m certain that by now reader, you know where this story is going. In return for my money I got nothing but a bunch of what I now believe were fake rejection letters from a bunch of publishers that she supposedly sent the manuscript to. (I have intentionally refrained from naming this so-called agent, but she is still in business.) Discouraged and disgruntled I once again put a writing career on the back burner.

Five years later my wife and I moved back to New England (the aforementioned incidents took place while we were living in Chicago) and I attended my 40th high school class reunion. I was confronted by Penny and several other women and asked: “Why aren’t we seeing any of your books in the book stores?” I looked to my wife for help but she just smiled and said, “Yes, why aren’t they?” It was then that I took the step that was to finally put me on the right road. I started by attending some author events at a local bookstore and at the same time began networking. I joined the New England Chapter of MWA and through it met a number of writers who were to become instrumental in my development.

As I stated I had come to the realization in 1989 and 1990 that I could write fiction, what was missing is that I didn’t know how to write. I was fully capable of putting words on a page, but the result was lacking polish and professionalism. The true turning point came in an email via MWANE. Paula Munier asked is I would be interested in joining a writer’s group that would meet at her house in Salem, Massachusetts. I agreed to join and prepared to dazzle everyone with my wonderful prose. (I’ll bet that by now you can see what’s coming.) On the first night I read a chapter and sat back awaiting the accolades I was sure were to be bestowed…WRONG! The group was composed of Susan Oleksiw, an accomplished editor, author and publisher, Paula Munier, a professional editor, and Skye Alexander, author of numerous works. They were very nice, but still gave me constructive criticism and lots of it. I went home and ranted about the fact that they didn’t understand my work. That what they said I needed to do would not make it better but worse. Again I appealed to my best friend, my wife, who said, “Why don’t you stop whining and try it?” So I did and ate a mighty meal of crow. Lesson learned: Your true friends tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.

Not to belabor things, I continued attending the writer group, attending conferences, and listened to successful writers. I surrounded myself with them and after twelve years (yup, twelve years) I got my first novel published and was nominated for an award.

All this has led me to give three bits of advice to aspiring writers:

1. Start creating a writing network, include as many successful (by which I mean published) writers as possible.

2. Listen to advice from other writers, especially those who have been published.

3. Don’t give up. I’ve been told that from the moment that you determine you want to write and start working at it, it might take as long as ten years to learn how.

Maine–Finally

Hi. Barb Ross here. Finally coming to you from Maine.

My view as I am writing this post

Usually, we arrive in Maine in early May. Honestly, it’s not the best time weather-wise, but it’s a great time to get old house stuff done and settle in. This year, we were delayed by the good (my daughter’s graduation from UMass Boston with her MFA in Creative Writing), the bad (I had a knee calamity right before Malice this year), and the ugly (Fogged Inn, book 4 in the Maine Clambake Mystery series was due June 1–and got sent in June 15).

The ugly

So while I’ve been in Maine, I’ve been chained to my desk, both getting the manuscript done and getting caught up on the 1001 things that were put off “until after I had the book turned in.”

But, while I’ve been distracted, my husband, Bill Carito, has been getting reacquainted with Boothbay Harbor. I gave him an iPhone photography class for Christmas. (It was truly a Hail Mary pass. We don’t always give each other gifts, and we somehow intuitively know whether it’s an on year or an off year. But this December, he and my daughter were having way too many mysterious telephone conversations, and I started to panic. Since we were going to be in Key West for January and February, I contacted my friend, author Lucy Burdette, who writes the Key West Food Critic Mysteries. She recommended the iPhone class, which she’d taken and enjoyed.)

You never know how those things are going to go, but this one was a hit! Bill posted a photo a day to his Facebook while we were in Key West and has taken a bunch of online iPhone classes since. Anyway, here’s some of what he found walking around Day 1 in Boothbay Harbor.

Pretty cool, huh?

So happy to be back!

Skype With an Author!

Lea Wait, here, with a reminder: even if you live far from Maine, a Maine Crime Writer (or another author) can speak at your school, library, or book group. And no one will have to travel.

Authors of books for children have been making Skype classroom visits for some time now, so I was pulled into it early. Inviting an author to visit a school in person costs the school money (hard when so many school budgets have been cut in recent years) and costs the author writing time.

Visiting via Skype is one solution that brings students and authors together. No; it doesn’t replace “in person” school or library visits. But it’s often more viable, especially when the author lives across the country.

Down to details. I charge $700 + expenses for an all-day in-person visit to a school. (Many authors charge a lot more.) That day may include speaking to an auditorium full of students, or perhaps visiting several classrooms, or a combination of those possibilities. Sometimes I run a writing workshop or two. I often have lunch with selected students (and/or teachers,) and allow time to sign any books students or staff have purchased. I’ve found school visits are most rewarding for everyone involved if the students have read at least one of my books before I arrive. Often they and their teachers have prepared questions for me — I don’t need to see those in advance, but having a question planned encourages shy students to speak up.

What do I talk about? Although I’ve visited classrooms from kindergarten through college, most visits I make are to 4th through 8th grades. My books for young people are set in the 19th century, so I talk about the research I do, often bring “show and tell” artifacts and research sources to share, and answer questions about … anything. What happened to Abbie after the book ended? What did you have for breakfast? How many books have you published? Which is your favorite? How do you get an agent? How many children do you have? How much money do you make? No question is off limits — and I answer all honestly. I always make sure I talk about research (not just Goggle and Wikipedia) and editing (even published authors edit — a fact that often surprises children.)

If a school can’t afford to have me visit in person, I’ll visit via Skype for 15 minutes for free. If they’d like a longer time, or more visits, I charge a little for that. I can answer a lot of questions in 15 minutes.

But Skype visits aren’t just for schools. I’ve visited book groups and libraries via Skype, too. Basically, the same rules: 15 minutes for free, and a nominal amount for time over that. And it’s best if my audience has read at least one of my books first.

If you’re an author who’s thinking of doing Skype visits, here are a few suggestions:

1) Explain on your website what you will do, what you will charge for your time, and any special topics you can cover. If you’re interested in speaking with students, point out how your visit will support the curriculum.

2) Remind groups that your visit will be much more memorable if the audience is familiar with your books.

3) Don’t schedule more than three Skype visits per day. You do have to prepare yourself (and your work space) and being “on” can be exhausting.

4) Schedule a time at least a day ahead when you can connect (on Skype) with the person and place you’re visiting, to assure that all technical systems are working and that you’re in agreement on what is expected from the visit.

5) If you are charging for a visit, ask for the payment in advance.

6) Before the visit, send promotional materials to the school or library or book group to help them get excited about meeting you. After a visit, send a thank you note, and perhaps a picture or bookmarks, or some other gift.

If you’re the person or organization inviting an author, make sure you both agree as far in advance as possible on the basics: the date, the time, the length, and the content of the visit. Let the local parent organization (for a school) or newspaper (for a library) know of the author’s visit. Parents may want to purchase an author’s book in advance, or local readers may want to join you for the Skype visit. Request an invoice from the author, if appropriate, and ensure it is processed in advance. Don’t forget to reserve an appropriate room for the visit, and alert the technical staff about the visit to ensure you are prepared.

And — for both authors and readers – enjoy the visit!

 

 

Summer Is Here – So Are The Tourists

Jayne Hitchcock here – is it just me, or did Spring turn into Fall then magically into Summer? What crazy weather! Even so, the tourists are flocking to my town of York. We live on the main road to the beach and see them flying by the house on the weekends. School is running late this year, but by June 20th traffic will be crazy as usual.

What I love most about this time of year is when friends or family come to visit, such as my husband’s daughter, her boyfriend and his grandmother, yesterday. They drove from western Massachusetts and as soon as they got here, we decided on what to do for the day. First was the Wiggly Bridge and Steedman Woods. Our Siberian Husky, Phoebe (who you all know as the Cyber Crime Dog) recently had cataract surgery, so with the “cone of shame off” we brought her along. We walked all the way across to John Hancock’s Wharf and the George Marshall Store & Gallery. They were taking pictures like crazy. My husband and I enjoyed being “tour guides.” It’s always kind of fun to see your town through someone else’s eyes.

We got some subs from Hannaford, ate, then headed over to York’s Animal Kingdom (I remember it being the Wild Animal Kingdom when I was a wee one) for a round of mini golf. Nothing like a little competition and people watching to get you going, ha ha!

After that, they wanted to shop for souvenirs, so my husband and I would wait outside the shops they went into and talked to local merchants we knew. All the while, I was people watching, cataloguing accents, phrases, clothing, attitudes, etc for possible future use in my writing. Who says writers aren’t always “on point?”

We caved in at the Kettle Boys and got some pizza flavored popcorn and bacon horseradish – should be interesting. Talked to the owner – he seemed relieved to talk to locals.

Do you get the same feeling where you live? It’s kind of like a secret society, isn’t it?

If you live in a touristy town, do you do the same thing when you have visitors? Have you used any of your people watching in your stories?

And people always wonder where I get my ideas from.

P.S. Phoebe is doing great – surgery went well and she can see again. We only opted for it because she was just eight years old. If you want to follow the whole saga, check out a page we did for her (and please share if you can).