Lea Wait's Blog, page 4

Weekend Update: July 26-27, 2025

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Kait Carson (Monday), Dick Cass (Tuesday), and Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson (Friday).

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

Join Maine Crime Writers Maureen Milliken, Matt Cost, Dick Cass and 18 other authors from all sorts of genres for both adults and kids, at the Belgrade Book Bash, 10 a.m.-2 p.m. Sunday, July 27, at The Barn at Seven Lakes Inn, 168 Main St., Belgrade. There will be a free raffle (no purchase required), a food truck, and all in a beautiful setting! Come on by and say hi!

 

MATT COST will be at the Grand Opening of Books-A-Million in Auburn, Maine, today (Saturday) from 1-2:30 PM signing copies of THE NOT SO MERRY ADVENTURES OF MAX CREED. Stop by and say hi.

 

 

 

On Saturday, August 2nd, there will be COST TALK at the Vassalboro Library at 1 PM.

 

 

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, along with the very popular “Making a Mystery” with audience participation, and “Casting Call: How We Staff Our Mysteries.” We also do programs on Zoom. Contact Kate Flora

Forty-Year-Old Clues to the Muse

Sandra Neily here:

Recently, I unearthed a journal I kept long ago when I traveled alone with my dog Harry, across the country and into western states I wanted to explore. Today I think I was looking for clues to my author and my nature-writing self.

I’ve selected just a few bits here

********

Sept 12, 1977

I should have taken off in the early seventies after college. After those four years (1967-1971) of prime Paul Harvey material: drugs, co-ed living, demonstrations against the war, student rights marches, the women’s movement.

I’m fairly sure that little can be said of those years. At least not precisely as I feel language did not function well during those years. It’s the revenge of that inarticulate and thrashing space. No one can adequately explain the first time you rolled on the grass in a wind of Mescaline energy, or the night of snow and wind when your roommate was gone and you finally got to wake up shyly with your first lover, or the rage of that one picture of a girl kneeling over a dead boy, her mouth stretched in a Kent State silent scream.

Right after college I wouldn’t have paid my car insurance ahead in one lump sum, alert my bank and credit cards about a new address, and check my files for legal papers that should go with me. Seven years ago, I might not have vaccinated by dog and seen the dentist before I “split.” Although I will travel light, I do have a very used Volvo wagon that holds my black lab (about 74 lbs. of Harry), 25 lbs. of dog food, skis and other light jock equipment, back pack, sleeping bag, tent purchased with books of Green Stamps, cooler, and a roof rack with duffels of winter clothes and suitable work clothes. (I will run out of money soon.)

And books. An entire compartment of them wedged around my spare tire.

…

Tomorrow, I drop off the edge of all that I have known for most of my life and head west. Now I know there will be nights alone in campgrounds and parks. Nights when I curse the wind that makes lighting my stove a trial and nights when Cup-A-Soup is a poor substitute for a simmering beef stew. Yet I hope there will be days and nights when the exhilaration of being alone and choosing my route or trail of even the flavor of soup will reward me for my courage.

…

Timber Creek tent site. (There are over 200 RV sites just over my shoulder….)

(Note: Some journal entries are just quick notes, but they call up details that I remember so clearly.) Timber Creek, CO campground. Harry lands on flock of ducks in front of a ranger. Elk whistles and antler crashing wake us. Jerry and the motorcycle boys from Indianapolis invite us for steak dinner. Hiking into Arapahoe National Forest, Harry dismantles a beaver dam while I sleep.

…

Up through the last arid valleys of Idaho, the Tetons parked themselves just beyond the wheat. Ringed in clouds like frosty breath, they are cold and dark as I near Teton pass.

…

the Grand Teton

I sit, shirt open, boots off, bandaids on toes, butterflies on knees, before the most beautiful mountains yet, the Tetons. Perhaps they’re so impressive because you can almost drive to the base and the Grand scowls at you from 13,770 feet. Yesterday I hiked around Jenny Lake which mirrors the peaks and up into Cascade Canyon. Passing moose, deer, rabbits on route, I left the trail when it began to descend into the river. I climbed straight up over small cliffs and elk droppings until I could face the Grand and hear the snow rustling off its ice walls.

The altitude and sun have attacked all my bodily functions and all I can do is pant and reach back into my sea-level lungs for energy. (My car is having the same trouble; must get my carburetor adjusted!)

…

Last night the air was filled with delicate bugs who fell as couples onto the map I opened.  They never fell as singles but always locked together. Thousands, all coupling frantically before they die or freeze or fall to earth on someone’s map to lie helpless over the topographical green of the Teton Mountains.

…

Jenny Lake and the Tetons

I haven’t commented much on the people. I have met so many everywhere and have usually never lacked for company if I want it. Here follows a brief catalogue of those I met while camped at Jenny Lake. I usually approach people to ask about hikes and bears and local info. I met Mark and Grey from Oklahoma this way.  In long luscious southern vowels, they traded stories about Alabama and Mardi Gras and traveling. We took a short hike together, but the freezing wind sent us back to collect firewood. They bought me batteries on a trip to town and later I joined them for hotdogs at their fire.

Chris was waiting at my campsite when I returned from getting water. He hung around through my dinner, got out my Volvo manual, and gave me instructions about batteries, water, brake fluid, and carburetors. He was quick to admit he’d lost his job as a meat cutter, and later, after I walked Harry, I heard his soft drawl in the dark beyond his coals tell me he could show me Ohio if I wanted a passenger. He wasn’t offering a relationship, but he did say I was a “fox.”

 Note: (I sometimes slept in the car with Harry if I felt a safety issue developing whether it might be a Chris or bear country.)

There were two young women from Augusta, Maine who showed me pictures of their yurt, stable, outhouse, and pasture fence they had built by themselves. They assured me they knew nothing beforehand and encouraged me to keep going … no matter what. They were inspirational.

…

I’ve discovered (while reading “Lolita”) I’ve been sitting on a pile of elk droppings. The muse works in mysterious ways. Perhaps the Greeks had it all wrong. The muse does not arrive on celestial wings but ferments under your rear as you write; the manure is transmogrified into your system and works like compost on your pen.

********

Mirror Lake unfrozen (Pacific Crest Trail)

I eventually made it to the Pacific Crest trail with the help of gentle and patient, and amazing Steve, who was on leave from being a government inspector on a tuna boat. We camped up through dripping rain forest to Mirror Lake, which was totally frozen by the time we got there. A few weeks later, I turned around after a November visit to the San Juan Islands (Washington) where I stayed with a classmate running a salmon farm. Fabulous dinners and a ferry boat rescue after our sailboat’s mast snapped in half. (Not all bad. While we waited for rescue, sea otters pressed around us, lying on their backs and cracking open seafood with rocks they held in their paws. Ya just never know.)

Later on, as I wintered and worked in Salt Lake (where the skis got used), gentle Steve and his buddies would come get Harry and carry him off to a camp in McCall, Idaho. For a vacation. Harry sent me postcards from a McCall bar.

  The entire journey would not have possible without my loved-so-much Harry, wh o composed a book while we hiked, “Places I Have Pissed and Swum in the Great Northwest.” My job was to chant and sing the short chapters as we marched along.

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

Sandy’s debut novel, “Deadly Trespass, A Mystery in Maine” won a national Mystery Writers of America award, was a finalist in the Women’s Fiction Writers Association “Rising Star” contest, and was a finalist for a Maine Literary Award. The second Mystery in Maine, “Deadly Turn,” was published in 2021. Her third “Deadly” is due out in 2025. Find her novels at all Shermans Books (Maine) and on Amazon. Find more info on Sandy’s website.

 

Mystery-writing lessons from ‘Jaws’

I saw the movie “Jaws” the summer it came out. Over and over and over and over again. There wasn’t a lot to do in Augusta, Maine, in the summer in the 1970s. But I also just couldn’t get enough of that movie. At 14, I couldn’t have told you why. It thrilled me way beyond the scary parts.

I don’t believe I’ve seen it at all in the years since it came out in 1975. If I did, it was decades ago. It’s now on streaming, in celebration of its 50th anniversary (Peacock+ and Netflix). I’ve watched it three times in the past two weeks and now, with 50 years of reading and writing behind me, I can tell you exactly why it was great then and it’s great now.

I know you’re likely poo-pooing that. It’s just another summer disaster movie, right? That’s what I would’ve said in the years since I’d seen it. I would’ve been wrong.

“Jaws” is to good story structure and writing what a Great White shark is to the ocean — “a perfect engine,” as the shark was described in the movie. The movie itself is, too. It’s a a lean, efficient machine. And it does it well enough that it tells a perfect story. [This is the movie, I’m talking about, not the Peter Benchley novel the movie is based on. Benchley wrote the screenplay with Carl Gottlieb, but it’s a much more perfect engine than the book.]

Watch it as a writer, and you’ll see. I’ll sum up its biggest lessons for writers here. I’ll try not to give too many spoilers, but come on, folks, it’s been 50 years. The spoiler statute of limitations must be expired by now.

Don’t show the shark too soon.  The movie is masterful at building suspense. In two hours we don’t see the shark until the exact middle — the one-hour mark. It’s another 30 minutes before we see it again.

That doesn’t mean there’s no scary suspense. What do we see? A young woman getting repeatedly jerked under the water by an unseen attacker. You see little Alex Kintner’s rubber raft upend, and then a plume of blood. You see a dock getting pulled in half and going out to sea, then as the hapless guy on the dock frantically swims to shore, the dock slowly turns around and follows him. The head of Ben Gardner, the town’s best fisherman, popping out from the destroyed hull of his boat.

Even after we finally see the shark, the movie doesn’t overdo it. One of the most chilling moments in the movie is when the police chief, shark hunter and shark expert guy are in the boat, kind of drunk and singing. The view switches from inside the boat to outside. It’s dark, the boat is in the distance lit up, their singing faintly ringing across the water. Then, in the foreground, the plastic barrel they’d earlier attached to the shark pops up out of the water. There’s a pause, then it starts moving toward the boat.

Lesson for writers? Don’t pile it all on at once. Build the suspense, piece by piece, making it more powerful each time. And then, once you’ve done the big reveal, don’t overdo it. What’s not seen is scarier than what’s seen.

More dialogue, less exposition. The script of “Jaws” is just about perfect. We learn an incredible amount from conversations, many of them brief. This includes the police chief’s background, why he came form New York City to work on Amity Island, why some townspeople would rather roll the dice on a possible killer shark than close the beaches, and a ton of stuff about sharks — all through dialogue. The little bit of exposition in the movie feels natural and organic.

Lesson for writers? Tell the story through the characters, what they say and how they reaction. And they don’t need to say a lot, just enough, and the right way.

Natural dialogue. I’ve really tired over the last two or three decades of wise-guy movie (and book) dialogue. I call it Lethal Weapon/Die Hard syndrome. The guy holding the gun? The guy at the other end of the gun? All the people in between? Everyone’s an over-confident tough guy with wise-guy patter and catchphrases. I even saw Superman doing it in a trailer for his later movie. It’s like the script writers (or book writers) are just looking to create the latest catchphrase, rather than tell the story. It’s tiresome, trite, lazy, bad writing. When every reaction is LWDH syndrome, it flattens the story and characters.

Dialogue should be the utility player of a book, serving a lot of purposes. Not only to get in information and background, as noted above, but to develop character, convey mood, slow or speed up pace, and much more.

“Jaws” does that. Sure there are jokes and sarcastic asides and a wisecrack or two, but they’re a natural part of the dialogue and true to the characters. Some of them have become catchphrases, but “Jaws” was made long before the catchphrase era, and they weren’t intended to be.

People may remember one of the movie’s most famous lines, “You’re going to need a bigger boat,” as just the kind of wisecrack BS I’m talking about. The ultimate catchphrase. It’s definitely used that way today. But it wasn’t in the movie. It comes after the second appearance of the shark, a full-face leap at the police chief, at a point when everyone’s guard is down. When Roy Scheider, as the chief, says it, it’s not a wisecrack. He’s in shock, terrified, and he really, really thinks they need a bigger boat. In fact, he asks Quint, the shark catcher, two more times during the rest of the movie if they’re going to get a bigger boat. It’s so much better than a throwaway wisecrack.

When there isn’t a wisecrack or joke punctuating every tense situation, characters can develop more fully. They can be vulnerable or smart or insightful in a way that the buddy-movie approach doesn’t allow. It makes for a much better story.

Lesson for writers? Don’t base your dialogue on superhero and buddy movies. Instead, consider how your characters think and see the world, and what their purpose is in the book, and allow them to fully express themselves.

Character development. The main characters are the same archetypes you see in many movies and crime novels — the reluctant hero, the concerned wife, the guy who knows things are really bad but no one will listen to him, the rogue that you have to depend on to save the village. That said, in “Jaws” they are not caricatures. The script and good acting combine to give them nuance and story arcs that work. The fact that the dialogue is not just a string of exposition, wisecracks and catch phrases helps. Even the mayor, the typical guy who does not want to close the beaches and lose the tourist trade, has some depth. When he says to the police chief, “My kids were on that beach, too,” you believe his distress.

Lesson to writers? Sure, you may have some of the standard-issue characters. But that doesn’t mean they have to be cartoons.

Less is more. There are so many scenes in the movie that easily could’ve been overblown and melodramatic, a lot of the cliche stuff you expect to see or read these days. The movie in its lean and efficient way, avoids those overblown scenes we’re conditioned to see.

A great example is when the chief tells his wife to take their youngest home. They’re at the hospital after a harrowing event, and she’s obviously had enough. She says, “Home? To New York?” He says, quietly, “Home. Here.” They look at each other for a beat, she gives a very small resigned nod, and leaves with the kid. A lot was said in those few words. It was so much better than some big screaming argument about the island, the shark, the kids, blah blah blah. Masterful. There are many moments like that in the movie.

And at the end, when the police chief does what he does to solve the shark problem [I won’t spoil it!], it’s not some overdone wisecracking extravaganza. He’s terrified, a little panicked, but knows what he has to do and with some skill and luck, manages it. And as a bonus, it’s not punctuated with wisecracks or catchphrases. He does say, “Smile you son of a bitch,” but it’s out of desperation, not to be s smart aleck.

Lesson for writers? If you do it right, the scene or situation will carry itself without a lot of bells and whistles.

It’s not about the shark. Even though I binge-watched “Jaws” 50 years ago and have again the last week or so, I have no interest in sharks. None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Shark Week comes and goes without me giving one thought to sharks.

“Jaws,” though, isn’t about the shark. It’s a horror movie in the best sense of the word. There’s a mostly unseen terrifying thing that is killing people, and they are slow on the uptake, then have no control over it. It’s about fear, obsession, vulnerability, human weakness and strength, and human interaction.

Lesson for writers? The crime or murder in a mystery novel is the vehicle for the real story. What’s your real story about?

 

Libraries Make the Reading World Go Round

Libraries are the Center of their Towns and Hub of their Communities

One of the great things about being an author is the opportunity to visit libraries as a speaker. I do a variety of COST TALKs around New England, mostly in Maine, and am always blown away by the libraries I visit. They are usually the center of town, the hub of the community, and the place where ideas and creativity are born and fostered.

If you are a librarian or belong to a book group that meets at a library, I’d love to come speak, interact, or whatever. Libraries makes the reading world go round.

Wednesday night I was at the fabulous Readfield Community Library for the sixth time in five years, making it my most visited venue over that period, which is how long I have been a published author. In the center of town, in a flower garden, on the shores of Maranacook Lake, I got the opportunity to spout about books.

This made me want to reflect upon my journey along the library path this year. So far, there have been seventeen of these book repositories visited with many more to come. For me, this is one of the highlights of being a writer—getting out to appreciate the buildings, meet the librarians, and interact with the patrons of said establishments.

My first sojourn of the year was to the Windham Public Library in February where Dick Cass set up a Mystery Making event. Unfortunately, he had to bow out, but I had a wonderful time with Jule Selbo, Maureen Milliken, and Allison Keeton. If you haven’t gotten a chance to attend one of these panels where the authors, along with audience participation, create a crime story in an hour, you have been missing out.

March contained a visit to the Charlotte Hobbs Memorial Library in Lovell and a trip to Massachusetts for the Merrimac Public Library. At the Charlotte Hobbs, I did my COST TALK with a focus on my recently published book, Mainely Mayhem. Then, in Merrimac, I had the pleasure of moderating a discussion with wonderful authors BJ Magnani and Edie Maxwell.

My first visit to the Brown Memorial Library in Clinton was a fantastic experience and my COST TALK focused on my latest offspring, The Not So Merry Adventures of Max Creed. This was followed by being the featured guest of the Sounding Board writing group at the Skidompha Library in Damariscotta.

Brown and Skidompha kicked off a busy month of May in which I did COST TALKS on the latest book at the Hartland Public Library where I heard a great story about my books being enjoyed by patrons more than a certain best-selling Maine author. Then the Bigelow Library in Clinton, but this was Massachusetts, not Maine, giving me two Clintons under my belt in a matter of weeks. I had a repeat visit to the fabulous Baxter Memorial Library, and then another Brown, but this time The Albert Church Brown Library in China Village for my second year in a row. The month finished off with a great conversation at the Richmond Library.

June began with a visit to my old stomping grounds at the Skowhegan Free Library, followed by the Canaan Public Library, the Dr. Shaw Memorial Library in the beautiful town of Mt. Vernon, over to the Norway Memorial Library, and then up into the heart of Maine at the Farmington Public Library. We concluded the month with a wonderful conversation over on the edge of New Hampshire at the Fryeburg Public Library.

July has seen back-to-back visits to the Readfield Public Library. Upcoming, I have COST TALKs planned for the Shaw Public Library in Greenville, a conversation with author Jule Selbo at the Topsham Memorial Library, back to the Southport Memorial Library, the Jesup Memorial Library, and the Scarborough Public Library.

What a wonderful world we live in.

 

 

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About the Author

Matt Cost was a history major at Trinity College. He owned a mystery bookstore, a video store, and a gym, before serving a ten-year sentence as a junior high school teacher. In 2014 he was released and began writing. And that’s what he does. He writes histories and mysteries.

Cost has published six books in the Mainely Mystery series, starting with Mainely Power. He has also published five books in the Clay Wolfe Trap series, starting with Wolfe Trap. And finally, there are two books in the Brooklyn 8 Ballo series, starting with Velma Gone Awry. For historical novels, Cost has published At Every Hazard and its sequel, Love in a Time of Hate, as well as I am Cuba. The Not So Merry Adventures of Max Creed is his 17th published book.

Cost now lives in Brunswick, Maine, with his wife, Harper. There are four grown children: Brittany, Pearson, Miranda, and Ryan. They have been replaced in the home with four dogs. Cost now spends his days at the computer, writing.

Poking a Hole in the Sky

Kate Flora: In the summer, especially, I get nostalgic for the Maine I grew up in and my family when I was younger. It may be harder, or more present, this summer, because I’m in the process of selling the family woodland—which might well be called the ‘hundred acre wood’—to a land trust so it can be preserved as open land forever. First the family home, then the lots along the lake, and now the woods where we playing as children and even had ‘houses’ among the ledges and hid in the hollow oak. Time moves on, I know, but it still makes me sad.

So what’s this about a hole in the sky? Well, recently while my husband and I were driving and talking about family and growing up and how we miss our parents and still have questions for them, he suggested that what we need is one day a year when we can poke a hole in the sky and ask those questions.

Wouldn’t that be great? There’s hardly a day that passes that I don’t have a question for my mother. She knew stuff, and when she didn’t know it, she was endlessly curious and would go and learn about it. She was a columnist for the Camden Herald, editing the home and garden page. If I had a question about plants, I knew she’d either have the answer or know where to find it. The farmhouse was full of reference books of all sorts, some of which now reside on my shelves.

This summer, when the deer have eaten most of my hosta, the buds off the daylilies and roses, and munched the tops off the phlox, I know she’d have some interesting suggestions a) about deterrents, and b) about plants I could grow instead that the deer won’t eat. Yes, the nursery would have those answers, but it’s not the same as calling up my mom.

If I had that day, I would pull up the manuscript for her second, posthumously published mystery, The Corpse in the Compost, and ask her where she intended to go with the business about the vintage fabric. Was there a real house that fascinated her that she used for the model of the lovely, abandoned one in the book where the children found “treasure?” Were there reclusive citizens in town she used as models for the recalcitrant sisters in the book?

One of the things she taught me, by comments and curiosity as we drove around town, was how many people in small towns had secrets, and who knew about those secrets. The easily identified married man’s car parked by the house of an unmarried woman. The young woman who had to go away for several months to ‘stay with an aunt.’ The man who kept his beer in a shed because his daughter disapproved, who had to hitch rides to the next town when his supply ran out. Some of those stories ended up in her mysteries; some stayed secrets.

Poking that hole in the sky, I would roll out the giant ancestry map that she’d made by gluing some posters together, and learn what I could about the relatives who had been uncovered. She did her genealogical research back in my childhood by writing letters. Letters to older relatives to learn what they knew. Letters to towns and churches to see what their records had to say about long ago settlers. These days, people log into ancestry for the same information, but for her, going to the mailbox was like uncovering treasure.

There’s no doubt that it was her love of information, and the uncovering and sharing of lore, that has led to my own fascination with novels that teach about people and places and professions while disclosing the mysteries.

It’s finally beautiful here on the coast of Maine. Cool, pleasant, and sunny. I think, although a manuscript is calling me, I will go outside and do some cloud watching. And remember my wise and clever mother, who would answer my questions if she could.

Clark children: John, Kate and Sara

Draft application of Kate M. Burke, storekeeper in Bingham, Maine, to the DAR

P.S. Reading an essay in the NYT this week about AI, Meghan O’Rourke quotes a poem by Mary Oliver called “Sometimes.” It is the essence of what we writers do:

Instructions for living a life:

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.

Weekend Update: July 19-20, 2025

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Kate Flora (Monday), Matt Cost (Tuesday), Maureen Milliken (Thursday), and Sandra Neily (Friday).

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

This coming Saturday, from 1-4, Maureen Milliken and Kate Flora will be at Sidereal Farm Brewery, 37 Sidereal Road, Vassalboro.

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, pleased to report that, FINALLY!, Treacherous Visions is not only finished, it is available to buy in e-book ($5.99) and trade paperback ($15.99). The paperbacks may take a little while to arrive if you order one, since they are just now being printed, but I expect to have my copies within the next week or so.

Today, Saturday July 19th, Matt Cost will be signing books at the Freeport Shermans Maine Coast Bookshop from 1-3 PM. Come say hi. Get a book. Get a scribble.

Sunday, July 20th, he will be doing a COST TALK at East Madison Days in East Madison at 1 PM. In a fire station. That will be a first. If in the area, come give a listen, have a Dynamite Hot Dog, and maybe bid on some fabulous silent auction items.

On Wednesday, July 23, he will be doing  a COST TALK at the Shaw Public Library in Greenville at 4 PM. There might be a couple other reasons to head to Moosehead Lake that day, but this should be at the top of your list.

On Saturday, July 26th, Cost will be signing books for the Grand Opening of Books-A-Million in Auburn from 1-2:30 PM. Come check out the store. Check out the books. Get a scribble.

 

 

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, along with the very popular “Making a Mystery” with audience participation, and “Casting Call: How We Staff Our Mysteries.” We also do programs on Zoom. Contact Kate Flora

At Long Last!

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, pleased to report that, FINALLY!, Treacherous Visions is not only finished, it is available to buy in e-book ($5.99) and trade paperback ($15.99). The paperbacks may take a little while to arrive if you order one, since they are just now being printed, but I expect to have my copies within the next week or so.

Am I happy with the finished product? Yes. Am I relieved to be finished with all the nit-picky details of final proofing and double-checking publication details. You betcha! And, by the time you read this, I will have done the basics of getting the word out. Since I no longer do library programs of book signings, that means updating my webpage, making noises about the new book here and on Facebook and Bluesky, and sending out a few emails to friends who aren’t on social media.

I know. I know. That’s not much these days. But I’m not trying to break any sales records or hit any bestseller lists and I don’t have to justify my existence to an editor or a publisher. The book is out there. That’s the important part. Anyone can buy a copy any time, and I have things set up so that it (and my other titles) will still be available after I’m gone. (Don’t worry. I’m fine. But I do try to plan for the future.)

I want to express my thanks to everyone who has sent me encouraging messages while I was working on this project, and to those who left comments here or elsewhere on my last blog on the subject of cover copy. You can see the result above. And you can see how I’ve presented the book on the Treacherous Visions page of my website here

 

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett has had sixty-four books traditionally published and has self published others. She won the Agatha Award and was an Anthony and Macavity finalist for best mystery nonfiction of 2008 for How to Write Killer Historical Mysteries and was an Agatha Award finalist in 2015 in the best mystery short story category. In 2023 she won the Lea Wait Award for “excellence and achievement” from the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. She was the Malice Domestic Guest of Honor in 2014. She is currently working on creating new editions of her backlist titles. Her website is www.KathyLynnEmerson.com.

 

The Idea of Being a Writer

Rob Kelley here, and I was talking to one of my editors, Scott Wolven, after he and his partner-in-crime at High Frequency Press, Shanna McNair, did a joint reading of their two new books at Portland’s Print Bookstore in late June. Over drinks we talked about a technique he shares with writers striving to be published.

Go to your local bookstore (this photo is from one of mine, Arctic Tern in Rockland, ME), find where your book would be on the shelves and make room for it (I put it all back, I promise!). It’s a form of manifesting, I guess (anyone who knows me I’m the least woo-woo person on the planet), but it does create a powerful image.

The idea of being a writer has been in my head since I was a little kid reading and dreaming of creating worlds like the ones I was discovering. I tried my hand at stories, but I was missing a critical ingredient that would let me go the distance: space. Space in my brain to let out my wild, creative self (not super easy for me . . . see woo-woo, above) and space in my life to take the time to do it right. To write, revise, incubate, revise and repeat. To go to classes and conferences and become a student again.

More than a student, a practitioner of shoshin, the Zen Buddhist concept of “beginner’s mind.” As a type-A kind of guy, I really hate being bad at something, being a beginner. And while, yes, I had an exceptionally busy professional career, I wrote a very early precursor to Raven (forthcoming 2025, High Frequency Press) in the 1990s! But it wasn’t very good, and I knew it. I chipped away at it over the next few years but didn’t really make any progress on it until around ten years ago when I picked it back up and started doing real work.

I started attending writing conferences and getting serious about working explicitly on my craft. I took a Stanford Continuing Studies class online, then started going to the Muse and the Marketplace conferences that Grub Street puts on in Boston. Then came Maine Writers and Publishers Crime Wave here in Portland, ME and Crime Bake in Boston. I took masters classes at Thriller Fest in NYC as well as here in Maine with our fabulous thriller writer colleagues Gayle Lynds and Chris Holm.

The point of all that is that I needed to create the mental space to be a beginner, a state I worked hard to rediscover, and one I keep fresh by always trying to be humble in my writing (funny how the work seems to do that for me!), while also trying new things to challenge myself, most recently taking up the cello!

What keeps you fresh, keeps you a beginner?

Also, beginning this month I’m adding a new feature to my monthly blog post: currently reading and next in the TBR list!

Currently reading: Agents of Innocence, David Ignatius, 1987.

Next from the TBR list: King of Ashes, SA Cosby, 2025.

Boatload of Books: A Deep Downeast Bookstore

During a recent trip to visit my husband’s family in Eastport, ME, I had the pleasure of losing some time in Boatload of Books, a bookstore that opened earlier this year. The bookstore is mixed in with vintage and art stores, a candy store, a coffee shop, and a stone’s throw from the Quoddy Tides office, Rosie’s Hotdogs, and the Tides Institute & Museum. If you want something a little more than a hotdog, the Waco never disappoints, you can swing by Phoenix Fine Wines for a glass of something chilled, or have a frosty beverage at Horn Run Brewery. If you haven’t made a trip to Eastport, it’s worth the car ride. (Or the boat, if you are coastal and seafaring.)

Boatload of Books has a solid collection of crime fiction – including mystery periodicals like Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazines (which, as a lover of the short form, speaks to a certain piece of my soul). There are reading nooks and chairs, coffee and tea, and a room hidden behind a bookshelf that is very, very fun. For those of you who have kids along, there is a desk with child-friendly activities, allowing for a nice bookstore meander. From the reading nook at the front of the store, patrons can catch great views of people passing by and the pier.

Boatload’s owner, Christina Jeffrey, took some time out to answer a few of my questions for curious readers.

Why did you decide to open Boatload of Books?

It’s been a desire since I was little to have my own bookstore. My grandmother taught me to read at 3 yrs. old and books became a haven during a mega dysfunctional upbringing. My first job was in a bookstore and then I went into special education, where literacy was the main focus. When I moved to Eastport, I knew there wasn’t a bookstore, but I figured there would be one nearby. I was clearly wrong. My sister came to visit and reminded me of my bookstore dreams and I ran with it.

 

Why Eastport?

I moved here a little over three years ago during circumstances that required a life change. During multiple visits and vacations, my husband and I fell in love with the community and the beauty of Eastport. Every city/town should have a bookstore. Our community needs this as much as I do, especially in the off season.

What are some of the things you like about having the bookstore?

I love when all the nooks and seats are occupied. Getting books, whether donated or purchased, is the best. Watching people find books that speak to them, seeing people actively seeking knowledge, and helping people access other worlds makes me really happy.

Any books you’d recommend?

Okay, so…I’m not a big crime reader. I know that’s a horrible thing to say to you. My suggestions stem from what I know my guests like to read and what looks interesting to me. I did read Agatha Christie and Nancy Drew a lot when I was younger. Nancy Drew’s books were what inspired my secret room of banned books at the store. I have just started a book by Tana French, The Searcher. So far it’s really good, but I’m reading in short stints between customers. I’m looking forward to winter when I’ll be able to read chapters at a time.

 

What’s a perfect day in Eastport look like for you?

A perfect day in Eastport would be cool and foggy. I would have chill tunes playing in the background and a cup of hot lemon ginger tea in hand. The seats will all be filled with happy readers and chatters, and little kids will be playing in the mini bookstore. I’ll be reading poetry from a vintage book that I found in the bottom of a donation box.

Is there anything else you want people to know?

I am really passionate about the power of literacy. During the last few years, as things have grown increasingly difficult for so many, I’ve thought a lot about what I singularly can do to help or make a change. Reading and writing have a massive impact on society. This little bookstore is my contribution, not just to my community but to anyone who walks through the door.

***

If you happen to take a trip along the Bold Coast, be sure to stop in the Boatload of Books. If you live Downeast and love crime writing and horror, Boatload will be hosting an event that features writers from across this great state during the Witches of Eastport festival (10/25).

More details on this event soon.

As for some of my own writing updates:

[image error]You can find my story “The Usual Reasons” in the latest Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, available online or on the shelves at Barnes and Noble, Books a Million, and select local bookstores.

My story “For Laura” appears online for Stone’s Throw from Rock and a Hard Place Press. You can read it here. All the stories will be collected at the end of the year in a print anthology, too.

Carol Goodman Kaufman and I sat down to talk for her podcast “Murder We Write.” You can listen here.

My short story “Vacationland,” which was included in the Dark Waters Anthology Volume 2, made the Most Distinguished for the Best American Mystery Stories. You can buy a copy of the anthology here.

Finally – for my New England crime and horror writers – be sure to register for Crime Wave (more here) and Crime Bake (more here). Can’t wait to see you around!

Be well,

Gabi

THE PIG FARM

Due to a two-week hiatus in which I had no internet, I have not been able to post a new post. I have taken the liberty of reposting one I did five years ago. It was about a man who was the inspiration for my book, THE FISHERMAN.

The Pig FarmerPosted on March 5, 2020 by Vaughn C. Hardacker

Vaughn

Vaughn C. Hardacker here: In her blog of February 21st, 2020, Kate Flora discussed the question every writer is asked at one time or another: “Where do you get your ideas?” Well, we get them from a lot of places. The idea for my second novel, The Fisherman, came from a pig farmer.

Obviously, this requires some explanation. In 2000, I was working as an instructor teaching sales people throughout the world about Wide Area Network equipment. When I told my wife that I was scheduled for a trip to Vancouver, British Columbia, she wanted to go with me–her father was Canadian and she had always wanted to visit there. The trip was great. So you may ask, “That’s nice, but where did you get the idea for your book?”

One evening, shortly after our return, I was in my office banging away on the manuscript for Sniper when she came in and showed me an article she had found. She said, “You could write a book about this. Here is what she showed me:

Robert Pickton: The Pig Farmer Serial Killer from Canada Who Confessed to 49 Murders

Dozens of women met a gruesome end on Pickton’s isolated property.

In 2007, Robert William “Willy” Pickton was convicted of murdering six women and sentenced to life in prison, without the possibility of parole for 25 years—the longest sentence that he could possibly receive at the time. He was charged with the deaths of many more—and, while in prison, admitted to an undercover officer that he had killed 49 women, and that he wanted to bring that number up to “an even 50.”

The details of Robert Pickton’s crimes—which included the discovery of human remains in trash cans, feeding bodies to his pigs, and possibly even selling human flesh mixed with pork for public consumption—shocked the country and the world, and were uncovered by one of the largest serial killer investigations in Canadian history.

Who Is Robert Pickton?

Before he became known as one of Canada’s most prolific serial killers, Robert Pickton was described as a “pretty quiet guy” who, along with his brother, owned a pig farm in British

Robert Pickton

Columbia. A worker on the farm later called it a “creepy-looking place,” and in 1998, the brothers were sued by the local government over zoning ordinance violations for neglecting the property and turning one of their slaughterhouses into an event venue.

In 1996, the two brothers had registered a nonprofit organization called the “Piggy Palace Good Times Society”—a disturbing name, in hindsight. Its stated aims were to “organize, coordinate, manage, and operate special events, functions, dances, shows, and exhibitions on behalf of service organizations, sports organizations, and other worthy groups.”

In practice, the farm played host to a variety of raves and wild parties which were held in a converted slaughterhouse. Among those known to frequent the parties held at the Picktons’ farm were sex workers from Vancouver and members of the Hells Angels motorcycle club. In 1998, the Picktons were served with an injunction banning any future events on the premises, and their nonprofit status was revoked the following year.

Robert Pickton’s First Encounter with Law Enforcement

Five years before he was arrested and charged with murder, Robert Pickton was faced with another charge—the 1997 attempted murder of sex worker Wendy Lynn Eistetter, who informed police that Pickton had solicited her services and brought her to the farm. There, he handcuffed her left hand and stabbed her in the abdomen.

The Pickton Pig Farm

Eistetter managed to escape, disarming Pickton and stabbing him with his own weapon. At the hospital where both were treated, hospital staff used a key found in Pickton’s pocket to unlock the handcuff on Eistetter’s wrist. The attempted murder charge was eventually dropped, reportedly because prosecutors believed that Eistetter’s ongoing drug use made her an unreliable witness.

Pickton’s clothes and rubber boots were seized by police during the initial arrest and kept in a storage locker for more than seven years. They weren’t tested for evidence until 2004, when they were swabbed for DNA and found to be a match for two missing women.

The Arrest of Robert Pickton

From 1983 to 2002, more than 60 women disappeared from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, an impoverished community. It was an ongoing crisis that seemed to have no end in sight, although Pickton had been on the police’s radar for quite a while. In February of 2002, police finally searched the Pickton farm in an unrelated search for illegal weapons.

Both Robert Pickton and his brother were arrested, and the police obtained enough evidence for a second warrant in relation to the ongoing investigation into Vancouver’s missing women. While the two brothers were ultimately released, Robert Pickton was kept under surveillance and arrested again not long after, charged with two counts of first degree murder.

During their initial search, police had found personal items belonging to some of the missing women. Once Pickton was behind bars, the charges began to stack up. First three more charges were added. Then four. Then more and more, until Pickton had accrued a total of 27 first degree murder charges.

Robert Pickton’s Grisly Crimes

The details of Robert Pickton’s heinous crimes were under a publication ban for nearly a decade, and so it wasn’t until after the ban was lifted in 2010 that the extent of Pickton’s depredations became public knowledge. When they did, a grim and terrifying picture came into focus.

Pickton was linked to murders stretching back as far as 1991—long before his arrest for the attempted murder of Wendy Lynn Eistetter, and continuing for many years after the altercation. Police had found a variety of human remains on the farm, many of which were difficult to identify because they had been left to rot or fed to the hogs.

Among the grisly effects described in Pickton’s eventual trial were human skulls that had been cut in half with hands and feet stuffed inside, night vision goggles, human remains stored inside garbage bags, “Spanish fly” aphrodisiac, and a loaded revolver with a dildo attached to the barrel, which Pickton later claimed was used as a makeshift silencer. Investigators also found more than 80 unidentified DNA profiles on the property.

Robert Pickton’s Trial and Aftermath

Robert Pickton was ultimately tried and found guilty of six counts of second degree murder. The other 21 charges were stayed for a later date, but never tried, as Pickton had already received the maximum possible sentence.

The trial brought to public attention a number of missed opportunities for the police to investigate Pickton sooner and put an end to his killing spree. Besides his arrest for the attack on Wendy Lynn Eistetter, there had been several other attempts to bring Pickton’s activities to the attention of the authorities. According to Vancouver police detective constable Lorimer Shenher, the police had received a call to an anonymous tip line in 1998, indicating that Pickton should be investigated in relation to missing women in the area. In 1999, authorities received another tip, stating that Pickton had a freezer filled with human remains on his property.

Pickton was interviewed following the 1999 tip, and police obtained his consent to search the farm, but the search was never conducted. In 2004, before Pickton’s trial had even begun, the government issued a warning that Pickton may have ground up human flesh and mixed it with pork that he sold to the public.

During a press conference in 2010, Deputy Chief Constable Doug LePard issued an apology to the families of the victims. “I wish that all the mistakes that were made, we could undo,” he said. “And I wish that more lives would have been saved. So, on my behalf and behalf of the Vancouver Police Department and all the men and women who worked on this investigation, I would say to the families how sorry we all are for your losses and because we did not catch this monster sooner.”

The Fisherman

The case intrigued me. I always wondered why cadaver-sniffing dogs found nothing when they were utilized. At a Sisters In Crime meeting on Cape Cod, the guest speaker was a former K-9 officer from NYC, currently the police chief of Wellfleet, Massachusetts. I asked him about it, withholding the fact that it was a pig farm. His first question was just that: “What type of farm was it?” I filled in the blank. I was shocked when he told us: “Cadaver-sniffing dogs are trained to detect a body that has not been embalmed. They cannot be used in two places: Jewish cemeteries and pig farms. The Jewish do not embalm their dead–the dog believes everyone buried in the cemetery is a murder victim.” He went on to say “There is something in pig excrement that smells like a body to the dog.”

I wanted my antagonist to be living on the coast of Maine and didn’t think that a pig farm in Kennebunkport would work. Pickton disposed of his victims by feeding their remains to his pigs; my guy, Willard Fischer, ground his up for use as chum. Once I had the premise everything else was academic. It sure makes one believe the old adage: “The truth is stranger than fiction.”

Note: In 2016, a book called Pickton: In His Own Words went up for sale on Amazon. While the 144-page book’s author was listed as Michael Chilldres, it was actually a hand-written manuscript that Pickton had smuggled out of prison. Chilldres had simply typed it up and added his byline. Pickton maintained his innocence in the book, which was eventually pulled down by both the publisher and Amazon after a public outcry. “It’s his kind of shenanigans,” the father of one of the victims told CTV News in the wake of the furor over the book’s publication. “The guy never goes away.”

My new website, developed by Melissa Gerety of MSG Creative in Orono, ME, is live at https://vaughnhardacker.com. Stop by and let me know what you think.