Lea Wait's Blog, page 74

Weekend Update: October 15-16, 2022

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Maggie Robinson (Monday), guest Sanford Emerson (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:

 

 

 

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

Reading (and Writing) Biographies

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, today writing about reading (and writing) biographies. Like most girls of my generation, I grew up reading girls’ adventure/mystery series (Beverly Gray and Judy Bolton were my favorites, along with Nancy Drew and the rest), but I also read a lot of biographies, especially biographies of famous women.

From 1950 to 1961, Landmark Books published over a hundred biographies aimed at young readers. They were sanitized, I’m sure, but the stories were still fascinating and gave me a lifelong appreciation of well-told nonfiction. I did a quick survey of Wikipedia’s list of Landmark titles for those years. Not surprisingly, the majority of subjects were men. That said, the offerings also included biographies of some pretty interesting women. I can remember reading their books on Dolly Madison, Betsy Ross, Elizabeth I, Marie Antoinette, Joan of Arc, Florence Nightingale, Catherine the Great, and Queen Victoria.

I read biographies for young people from other publishers, too (I was a big borrower at our local library) and can remember being fascinated by the stories of singer Jenny Lynd and of Edith Cavell, an English nurse who was executed by Germany during World War I for helping POWs to escape.

The first of my books to be published was a collective biography of ordinary women of sixteenth-century England—not because that’s the first book I wrote, but because my novels set in that period failed to sell and I had all this research left over! When the rights finally reverted to me, I expanded and updated the text and the result is a very big e-book original titled A Who’s Who of Tudor Women. I’ve mostly written novels over the years, but one of the books I wrote for for young readers ages eight to twelve was a biography of nineteenth-century journalist Nellie Bly. The original version was titled Making Headlines. I recently reissued a new edition titled simply Nellie Bly, a biography. I also compiled and edited my grandfather’s memoirs (The Life of a Plodder), but that was an Indie project from the start.

But I digress. The real reason for this blog is to share my very recent (and near future) reading of biographies. By sheer chance, new books by three biographers whose work I’ve enjoyed in the past have just come out or are about to.

Lucy Worsley’s Agatha Christie, An Elusive Woman is a fresh look at Christie’s life, including a convincing explanation for her mysterious disappearance (and a thorough debunking of the theory advanced by Hollywood). Worsley’s previous books cover a wide range of subjects, and she makes frequent appearances in documentaries on various aspects of British history. She has an easy-going style of writing that almost makes you feel you’re reading a novel, but the book is well-researched and thoroughly documented. Her day job is curator of historic royal palaces and her office is in the Tower of London. Is that cool, or what? Anyway, I highly recommend this biography.

Daniel Stashower’s American Demon is also a page-turner, but I give you fair warning that although it is a biography of Eliot Ness, its focus is on  Ness’s hunt for a serial killer in 1930s Cincinnati and the details are pretty graphic. I first met Dan at an early Malice Domestic. Back then he was writing a mystery series featuring Harry Houdini’s smarter brother as the amateur sleuth. He’s since won numerous awards for his nonfiction, most of which has a mystery/crime connection. I recommend any of his titles, but this one is particularly interesting to anyone whose image of Eliot Ness comes solely from The Untouchables.

Gareth Russell’s Do Let’s Have Another Drink won’t be available until November 1, but I’m really looking forward to what promises to be a unique look at Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother. Like the other two biographers, Russell moves around in history to choose his subjects. I haven’t read his book on the Titanic, but I loved his take on Catherine Howard, fifth of the six wives of Henry the Eighth. It is well researched and documented, includes numerous details I hadn’t seen elsewhere (and since this is my period of history, that takes some doing), and is written, like the other two biographies I’m recommending, in a relaxed style that doesn’t turn readers off by being too pedantic (a failing, sad to say, of many biographies). The premise of the new one? Apparently Queen Mum was known for her witty remarks. Since she also liked her tipple and lived to be over a hundred years old, quite a number of bon mots have survived.

Any suggestions to add? Feel free to recommend your favorite biographies/biographers, present or past, in the comments.

 

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett has had sixty-four books traditionally published and has self published others, including several children’s books. 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. She was the Malice Domestic Guest of Honor in 2014. Her most recent publications are The Valentine Veilleux Mysteries (a collection of three short stories and a novella, written as Kaitlyn) and I Kill People for a Living: A Collection of Essays by a Writer of Cozy Mysteries (written as Kathy). She maintains websites at www.KaitlynDunnett.com and www.KathyLynnEmerson.com.

 

Now The Real Work Begins

Vaughn C. Hardacker

My seventh thriller novel, RIPPED OFF, is scheduled for release. I believe that one of the biggest shocks new writers get is when they learn that writing a novel is only the beginning of the process. Most writers enjoy writing, it’s what we do… many of us do not enjoy selling.  I speak with many of my colleagues, and most of us have a tendency to isolate… we do it every time we sit down to put words on paper.  Unless you are Stephen King, Michael Connelly, or Robert Crais, you must do most of the promotion. I have often been told, “You’re one of the best writers nobody has heard of.”) How does this all come together? The steps (as I see them) are as follows:

HOW DO I WRITE?

The idea. What is the basic plot? In RIPPED OFF, it was “What would happen if, after being divorced for the fourth time, a retired hitman learns that his financial manager and accountant have stolen his retirement funds?” The step includes researching specific areas needed for the plot to be credible. I’m a pantser, so I begin writing, believing that the story will take me where it wants to go. Therefore, I do not outline. I have tried many times but have yet to complete an outline.Finish the first draft.Edit the first draft.Develop a query letter. Query agents and/or publishers.Once accepted, await the editor’s comments. Make corrections as needed (rewrite as needed).

Coming January 2023

When the publisher gives you a release date. (I find this to be the most challenging part of the process), develop a marketing plan (campaign). The campaign should include: (a) how many ARCs (Advanced Reader Copies) will be required. (b) Develop a list of people to receive ARCs. Consider people who are published authors, book reviewers, etc. (DO NOT SEND COPIES TO RELATIVES… they will tell you what you want to hear, not what you need to hear.).

Design documents for a mailing campaign. I write a cover letter, a press release, a possible poster that can be used for appearances at bookstores and libraries, an 8 X 10 author photo, an 8 X 10 cover photo of the book’s cover, and a USB drive with all of the aforementioned.Consider what promotional items you might hand out at personal appearances, conferences, etc.Mail the package to places and people who are in a position to assist you.

We aren’t finished yet. If you don’t have a webpage, get one. I recommend having it professionally designed. It is best if you pay a bit more to purchase a URL and a secure server. If you obtain a site via a provider, Yahoo, Verizon, etc., they will provide you with both. However, you will not own them, the provider will.

Of all this, the most critical thing is obtaining book reviews {step 7. (b) above.} from known authors and book reviewers. Some will charge you a fee for them. Your publisher may assist here, sending review copies to reviewers such as Publisher Weekly.  (Do not assume that paying for a review will guarantee a positive one. Reviewers know that their success depends on their credibility, which comes from giving accurate, unbiased reviews.) There are many online places to get reviews, Bookbub, and any professional organizations to which you belong (International Thriller Writers–ITW). Approach media outlets such as local radio and television stations, and offer to do an interview either via phone or in person. Don’t overlook word of mouth. I have gone so far as to give complimentary copies to people who are in a position to spread the word.

Finally, don’t overlook Amazon. If you don’t have an author page with them, get one. Amazon is another place to obtain reviews.

If anyone is interested in obtaining a free copy of my campaign package, contact me via my website https://www.vaughnchardacker .net.

No Time To Write—And Yet I Continue To Write

These days I have no time to write—and yet somehow I keep on writing. Between long hours working, handling a complicated estate, and the dramas of family life, I’m finding virtually no time to sit in front of the computer and type out work. And yet somehow I end up being productive. Maybe being busy is the best medicine for getting things done.

How can this be?

People always tell me that they could never write a book. That it is too long and daunting a task. That they have no time to write a three hundred and fifty page novel with complex ideas and a consistent theme. I can somewhat understand their apprehension. Writing a novel is a long and daunting task. It does take time. But it is a hard process in different ways than many think.

People’s assumption about the grueling process are wrong, in my estimation. At least the way I write. I don’t regularly sit for ten hours a day writing. In fact, during the first draft, I usually write my 1300 words in an hour of so. Sometimes faster if I’m on a roll. I know you’re asking, where did I pick the random number of 1300 words a day? The number just developed in my head throughout the many years of my writing.

To be honest, I do write the first draft lightning fast. It’s the best process for me. I come up with an idea and then develop it as I write the book, changing things when the characters whisper to me to go in a different direction. I view my initial blueprint like directional poles that I can pull up out of the ground if I feel the plot is going in a different path. A writer must be adaptable, flexible and willing to listen one’s characters’ voices. Fitting a square peg in a round hole never worked for me, as far as rigid outlines go. So I guess you could say I’m in the middle of the spectrum when it comes to being a pantser or plotter.

The faster I write, the better I stay focused and into the plot. When I take a week off from writing, I find myself lost. I have to go back to the beginning chapter to see where I am. Themes stay consistent when I write every day. The characters never leave my mind. Voices stay unique. The flow of the plot moves with lightning speed when I write fast and often. And I hate leaving my story during this phase, because I am often curious to know what will happen next, as if I am also a reader and not just the master and commander of the story.

I view my word tally like earning money. The more I write that day, the more words/money I can deposit it my literary bank. If I know I have a weekend where I cannot write, I write extra and bank the words into my account so I don’t fall behind. Having a certain amount in my bank each week is an absolute requirement for me during this initial phase, and if I don’t have it my account, I have to work harder to catch up. I view myself like a worker trying to get as much overtime pay as I can, greedily earning as much as possible before the OT runs out. Writing that fast, on the first draft, I usually have a working manuscript in one or two months. And all that time I had only written maybe an hour a day.

Now that I have a working manuscript in two months, it’s time to edit. It may not be the best manuscript, but at least I have something I can work with. This requires an hour a day reworking sentences and developing plot themes and subplots. I love editing, so the work comes easy to me. I edit while watching TV or listening to the radio in my free time. Again, an hour a day, usually. Sometimes longer if I’m really enjoying myself. And I do all this around my hectic schedule, knowing if I don’t do it in my free time the work will not get done.

In six months I have a finished novel to submit.

I love writing, but it’s hard in ways non-writers don’t understand. It’s a heartbreaking and often painful endeavor. It’s like continually beating one’s head against the wall. While I’ve done pretty decently financially at this, it’s not something one does to get rich. Many times I’ve wanted to quit. Many many times. Often I wish there was an AA meeting for writers like me to attend. Because writing, in my case, is like having an addiction, albeit healthy one. I keep going back to it for some crazy reason, even if I don’t want to. It’s selfish. Egotistical. Isolating as hell. Hard on the back and hands, as my carpal tunnel can attest to. And yet it gives my life a certain richness and purpose. It completes me in ways I can’t describe. I dream with purpose. On the other hand, being a writer continually eats away at my soul: rejection, bad reviews, the monastical life—then having to be an amazing public speaker after months of talking to yourself and dealing with your multiple personality disorder.

Oddly, I hate speaking in front of a crowd about my book. I can happily speak about anything else, but not my book. Why? How do you talk about a thriller novel, a book with many twists and turns, without giving away the plot? There was one of my books where the mere mention of the plot gave away the huge twist midway through. I’d rather talk about music or my favorite pizzas. History. Sports. I wish authors could be like musicians and play our books onstage like music, entertaining without ruining the very nature of the art. And reading a passage seems silly to me. The act of reading a novel is subversive and a profoundly private experience. It loses steam when spoken out loud in front of a crowd.

And getting published today is getting harder and harder. The pandemic made it punishing. I had a hardcover novel set to publish in April of 2020 and then everything shut down and the COVID killed my book. Now there is a paper shortage and books are getting pushed back. In fact, my publisher asked if any of their authors wanted to delay the publication of their book. Since the first of my thrillers comes out in the summer of 2023, it didn’t affect me.

The point is, writing the novel is an incremental process that you can do every day if you allot a small part of the day to it. It’s like becoming a millionaire; you invest a little every year and let your wealth build. Like Einstein said, “Compound interest is the eighth wonder of the world.”

So if you want to write that book you have stuck in your head, don’t look at the whole. It’s too daunting. Break it down into its parts and do a little writing each day. You’ll be surprised what you come up with in a year’s time. But be prepared to become an addict.

As for quitting writing, I’m not sure I could ever do it. Maybe one day I’ll conquer this addiction of mine. Maybe not. Through all the ups and downs, on the whole I think it has enriched my life. We’ll see if that continues going forward. Yeah, we’ll see. It might take the Grim Reaper to cure what ails me me.

FEEDBACK – WHAT WORKS FOR YOU?

by Jule Selbo

The second book in my Dee Rommel Mystery Series, 9 DAYS, is out and it’s fun to get feedback from readers.

Some of the reactions come in through the message feature on my website, some from family (mine’s a big one so there’re lots of opinions), some from friends, or from people in my condo building in Portland, or from the “regulars” I join at my favorite (nearly daily) haunts.

The best feedback is people sharing tidbits from their own expertise or snippets of their life stories in relation to my imaginary character’s life. A breakfast buddy at Becky’s (Commercial Street, Portland) teaches scuba diving, and he wondered if Dee Rommel might, one day, be looking for an odd item like the ones he’s discovered buried deep underwater in the rocks and sand of Casco Bay. And then I got a story of an emotional wedding-anniversary-dive he took with his recently passed wife.

Another buddy has a ham and cheese omelet every morning and is now retired. He used to build swimming pools in peoples’ backyards. He’s unearthed some suspicious bones, trinkets and oddities.

Another coffee-drinker is an Auto Parts guy, he finished 9 DAYS and wanted to remind me that catalytic converters and other parts in some cars can be made with precious metals like platinum, palladium, rhodium, silver and gold (and that’s why the market of stolen parts is always hopping).

A book club member living in midtown Portland (the club had read 10 DAYS and invited me to eat cheese and drink wine with them) was a city history buff and told me that Dee (whose father loved history) would definitely know about the underground tunnel that connected the old Press Herald on Congress Street and its printing facilities – and the other underground spaces of Portland (seems there were a lot of subterranean bowling alleys at one time). He winked at me and told me access could be arranged.

A woman at the Armory Bar at the Regency Hotel (Milk Street, Portland), after reading 10 DAYS and 9 DAYS, asked what Maine locations Dee might be traveling to in 8 DAYS. I told her I was working on a scene in Yarmouth – she knew the histories of the Catholic, the Universalist, the Congregational and the Baptist churches in the town’s center. (Her grandfather and father had been pastors and I got details of the vagaries in growing up a preacher’s kid.) I don’t imagine Dee as a regular church-goer, but that didn’t negate me thinking that an empty church, at night, in a winter storm, might be a good hiding place for someone…

My family’s got a funky, unheated, thin-walled cabin with nice views of loons on Damariscotta Lake. I have a morning routine – up early to make the 6 am opening at Moody’s Diner (Route 1 in Waldoboro). I carry a notebook with me and write while I chew on scrambled eggs and toast.

One of the waitresses (Shelly) has read both Dee Rommel books and loves to talk about which supporting characters she wants to come back in the next stories. Just the other day she gave me a semi-glare and told me she needs (expects) to know – soon-ish– more details about bad-guy Billy Payer (10 DAYS) and how he might be involved in the assault that left Dee with a permanent injury. Shelly seemed a bit vexed Billy didn’t have a larger presence in 9 DAYS. Since I’m working on 8 DAYS now (about 1/3 of the way through) – I almost told her I hadn’t planned to get back to Billy until 7 DAYS or 6 DAYS – but I went home and decided that it might be a good idea to keep that “B” story alive more “soon-ish” – now it’s become a “C” story in 8 DAYS.

After Moody’s Diner I usually head back to Jefferson (where the funky camp is) and stop at the Jefferson Market on Route 32 for any needed supplies. Lyn, the owner of the market, has put a small bookshelf full of “local authors” near the checkout counter.

She’s been selling 10 DAYS for the last six months and has now added 9 DAYS. Customers who buy the books relay their thoughts to Lyn – who relays them to me. Some have worries/premonitions regarding Dee’s boss (private investigator Gordy Greer) and why he’s pushing Dee so hard to get her own license. Some have opinions on the relationship Dee has with her mother. Or insight on Dee’s lovers. Even about her best friends – and why the hell can’t Dee get a dog?

            I realized that most of the feedback is not focused on the specific, stand-alone plots of the books. It’s questions and/or concerns pertaining to the character of Dee. About her self-esteem issues and the massive chip on her shoulder and will she ever be able to open her heart.

That realization made me think of a Michael Connelly interview I read. Connelly (Bosch series, Lincoln Lawyer series and more) mentioned that readers are often providing reactions and fodder – and that it enhances his writing. Not specifics (he’d stop them if anything turned into a pitch and quickly recite, for legal reasons, that he could not listen to story ideas). His readers’ input tended to focus on the flavor or history of Los Angeles or experiences or thoughts on father/daughter relationships.

Connelly also stated that he always kept in mind the words of Joseph Wambaugh (The Onion Field, Choirboys,and the Hollywood Station Series and so much more): “The best crime novels are not how cops work on cases; it’s how cases work on cops.”

Of course, it doesn’t have to be a cop. It can be a private investigator (like Dee), an amateur sleuth, or anyone investigating…

I guess the readers’ questions and interests are helping me see what’s bringing them back to the next books.  I have 8 more to go and I want them to keep reading.

Although it’s not my nature to write to please someone else (therein lies madness I think), but it IS my nature to question if what I find interesting is interesting to others. And it feels good that readers are finding Dee interesting.

Who likes to talk to readers about their books and characters and who doesn’t like to talk about them at all?  Who does it help? Who does it hinder?

Weekend Update: October 8-9, 2022

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Jule Selbo (Monday), Joe Souza (Tuesday), Vaughn Hardacker (Thursday), 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:

 

 

 

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

The Poets Say It Best

 On these suddenly truncated days when we strive to convince ourselves winter is not rounding the near corner, I’m comforted by poetry that honors this season of transition and all the metaphors it offers.  Here are some of my favorites, set to photographs (which is not to imply the words of these marvelous poets are insufficient).

A Song for Autumn

By Mary Oliver

Don’t you imagine the leaves dream now
how comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of the air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees, especially those with
mossy hollows, are beginning to look for

the birds that will come—six, a dozen—to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
stiffens and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its long blue shadows. The wind wags
its many tails. And in the evening
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

September Midnight

By Sara Teasdale

Lyric night of the lingering Indian summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.
The grasshopper’s horn, and far-off, high in the maples,
The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence
Under a moon waning and worn, broken,
Tired with summer.
Let me remember you, voices of little insects,
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,
Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us,
Snow-hushed and heavy.
Over my soul murmur your mute benediction,
While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest,
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,
Lest they forget them.

Autumn Leaves

By Marilyn Chin

The dead piled up, thick, fragrant, on the fire escape.
My mother ordered me again, and again, to sweep it clean.
All that blooms must fall. I learned this not from the Dao,
but from high school biology.

Oh, the contradictions of having a broom and not a dustpan!
I swept the leaves down, down through the iron grille
and let the dead rain over the Wong family’s patio.

And it was Achilles Wong who completed the task.
We called her:
The one-who-cleared-away-another-family’s-autumn.
She blossomed, tall, benevolent, notwithstanding.

Late October

By Maya Angelou

Only lovers
see the fall
a signal end to endings
a gruffish gesture alerting
those who will not be alarmed
that we begin to stop
in order to begin
again.

 

Brenda Buchanan brings years of experience as a journalist and a lawyer to her crime fiction. She has published three books featuring Joe Gale, a newspaper reporter who covers the crime and courts beat. She is now hard at work on new projects. FMI, go to http://brendabuchananwrites.com

 

Postgraduate Experience

 

Most people wouldn’t be impressed by my new apartment, but that hardly mattered to me. It was affordable, had an extra bedroom, and came furnished. It was also within walking distance of my new job. Hell, I deserved something good after escaping the town where I grew up, the place most everyone called Povertyville, Maine.

This was my first weekend after moving in and getting settled at work. It had taken eight years, sometimes working two or three part time jobs, and even living a semester in my car, but I’d managed to graduate debt free with marketable degree.

I finished the take out dinner bought on my way home from work. I was tired and had no interest in going out. Granted the ancient TV that came with the apartment only had a 21 inch screen and no remote, but I needed to numb my brain after all the work-related stuff I’d had to absorb during orientation.

That’s frustrating, I thought. The channel selector seemed to be stuck on the local Fox Channel. I’d read a book, but hadn’t had time to scope out the local library. I would remedy that tomorrow.

“Get your ass out of my chair!”

I jumped as the words were accompanied by a sharp pain. I reached around and pulled a long pin from my butt. Fortunately, it wasn’t rusty, but how had I missed it when I sat down?

I tended to my wound and grabbed a beer from the fridge before returning to sit, but the moment I did, I heard the same voice yell again.

“I said get your ass out of my chair!”

I moved to the ratty couch as fast as I could, unwilling to risk another attack by whoever or whatever was upset by my seating choice. I couldn’t be pranked because nobody knew where I was living yet. Was this the reason the rent was so reasonable in comparison to what I heard my new co-workers were paying? Two beers later, I gave up and went to bed.

After locating the city library and signing up for a card, I met an older gentleman on the stairs while returning to my third floor apartment. We started chatting and when he heard which apartment I lived in, he got a strange look on his face.

“You encounter Lenny Miller yet?

“No, you’re the first person I’ve had a chance to talk to since moving in,” I said “What apartment is he in?”

The man shook his head. “We better be sitting down for this conversation. Follow me.” He turned and went back up the stairs.

I followed, curious to learn what the story was regarding this Miller fellow.

When we got to the fourth floor, I was surprised to find an open area overlooking the street bordering the back of the building. I waited for the older man to take a seat at one of the tables, then sat opposite him and waited.

“I’m Jason Madore,” the older man said. “Been living in apartment 304 for the past twenty-three years. I’ll probably die there, which brings me to Lenny. Did you know he died in your apartment?”

I shook my head.

“Thought not. Bet you got a break on the rent. You had to, since everyone who’s tried to move in hasn’t lasted more than a couple weeks. Lenny was a sour bastard, and I doubt death changed that.” Jason gave me a sympathetic look. “I hope you figure out how to live with him.”

Three months later, I still felt like an unwelcome guest in my own apartment. I couldn’t use the chair, had no control over the TV, and was awoken at odd hours by sarcastic comments about my choices of food, clothing, and reading material. I was close to giving up and emptying my meager savings account so I could afford a different place, when a miracle happened.

College taught me to be a good listener. When I overheard Jimbo, one of my fellow employees, talking about how some of the technology featured in Ghostbusters, had been developed, my ears perked up. At lunch, I introduced myself and asked him what he meant earlier.

“You a fan of weird stuff?” he asked.

I decided to take a risk. “Not really, I have a real life haunting situation.”

That got his interest. “Mind cluing me in? I’m into the supernatural and a tech nut to boot, so I keep up on both.”

I had nothing to lose, so I invited him over after work.

“Mind if I try provoking your poltergeist?”

I shook my head. “I’m desperate enough to try anything short of burning the place down.”

Jimbo sat in the chair. He didn’t even have time to lean back before the angry voice that had become my nemesis hollered “Get your fat ass out of my chair!”

Jimbo shot up with a look that was half pain, half satisfaction. “This is the real deal,” he said as he pulled not one, but two rusty sewing needles from his rear. He tried changing channels on the TV, but had no luck.

“Let me do some more research and we’ll talk on Monday. Thanks for trusting me with your problem,” he said before leaving.

I spent the weekend alternating between hope and wondering whether I was going to experience something worse. How likely was it that technology had developed a real ghost remover?

Jimbo smiled mysteriously when I arrived at work. “I got together with some of my fellow Ghostbuster fans yesterday. I think we might have a solution to your problem by the end of the week.”

That was all I could get, no matter how much I begged him to say more. By Thursday, I was poster person for National Nervous Wreck Day. My appetite was gone, as was my ability to get a decent night’s sleep. If Jimbo didn’t come through, I was finding a new apartment, no matter what the cost.

Jimbo said he’d be at my apartment by six pm on Friday. He was, but I didn’t expect him to be in costume.

“What the hell?” I asked as he waddled into my kitchen wearing something that was a cross between a space suit and a pirate rig. The only unprotected part of his body was his face, but some sort of respirator dangled below his mouth.

“Desperate measures and all that. Here, hold this and don’t lose your nerve, no matter what happens,” he said before leading me to my living room.

He handed me some sort of vacuum canister that was attached to a round metal object on his belt. A long flexible hose with a flaring attachment on the other end extended from it. The hose sparkled as though it was charged.

“It might look hinky, but this thing has been sucking up ghosts all over the country for almost two years. You’ll never see an ad because the guys who developed it don’t want to start a panic. Remember to hold tight. The last thing we need is half a pissed-off spirit running amok in here.”

Jimbo crept up behind the chair where I could see a ghostly outline watching a HeeHaw re-run. He flipped a switch and a low whine filled the room. As soon as it steadied, he poked the ghostly figure with the side of the hose. When it turned to yell as him, he flipped the switch another time and the whine increased to an ear splitting level. The specter tried to resist, but as soon as its face was sucked into the hose, it stopped fighting. In a couple minutes, nothing remained in the chair.

“Best to be extra careful,” Jimbo said as he ran the nozzle over every inch of fabric.

“What now?” I asked when he indicated it was safe to set the canister down.

“We seal the bag inside, send it off, you get your life back, and in a few weeks, you and I split a nice payment from the people who buy ghosts.”

“What?” I looked from Jimbo to the canister. “Someone buys ghosts?

“Yup,” he said. “Thanks to the internet, there’s a market for everything. Your problem boy is likely to end up haunting some half-demolished castle in Transylvania. It’s the hot market right now.”

I couldn’t resist asking, “how much do ghosts go for?”

Jimbo looked around at the shabby furniture in my living room. “Your share should allow you to replace all this crap, even snag you a nice flat screen with remote. No more black and white shows for you, my friend.”

Looking for Light as the Dark Season Approaches

Kate Flora: When I was young, readily immersing myself in dark films like Bergman’s and dark, twisty mysteries like Minette Walters, or cold ones like those from the brilliant P.D. James, I used to wonder at those in my parents’ generation who expressed a reluctance to read dark books or view dark films because they were too depressing. If the past week is any indicator, I am joining their generation.

Maybe it is simply because the world feels so precarious. So full of violence and uncertainty. Politics. Ukraine. The devastation from Hurricane Ian. The world doesn’t feel like a benign place right now. This is so even though the trees are doing their best to put on a vibrant display, despite a summer of drought. This is so even though there have been such gorgeous blue skies and the ocean is such a lovely dark blue and my gardens are still dancing with color. This is so even though it is excellent walking weather, enticing me to leave my desk and come outside even though I am trying to write at least two thousand words a day.

I’ve been trying to decide whether I am becoming a wimp. With darkness coming on earlier, I am trying to do more reading, and finding books I want to read is a challenge. This week I scrolled through books I’ve downloaded on my kindle and started Tommy Orange’s book, There There. After several pages of graphic and disturbing descriptions of the horrific things that early American settlers did to the Native Americans, I gave up. Despite the great reviews the book got, it was just too awful for some casual evening reading. It’s probably fair to say that I wimped out.

What does one do when a particular books doesn’t seem like a good choice? Move on, of course. There is always another book. We don’t all share the same taste which is why there is such a variety of books to choose from. I will return to Orange’s book another time when I am not so daunted by the opening. I moved on to the next book chosen by my book group, Charles Blow’s memoir, Fire Shut Up in My Bones. Alas for me, a wimp looking for something compelling to read yet not so dark. The book immediately opens with a rape. Not graph or dwelled up, but there it was. Something I wasn’t up to spending time with right now.

Okay. There is always another book, right? So I picked up the book I had wanted my book group to read, Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. Liked the character, the voice. Could relate to the dilemma of a women chemist in all-male labs in the early sixties. And then—another rape.

I am considering going back to my usual refuge when I have to read but nothing seems to be working: gardening books, including the Monty Don book I got for my birthday. I am happy to be advised about the steps I need to take in order to put my gardens to bed for the winter, even though that advice may generate a list of things to get at the local garden store. Safer to spray the plants before I bring them in. Some enriched potting soil to top dress some of the pots before they came in. Cuttings from some of annuals to cheer up pots for the winter, including cuttings from several members of the plectranthus family. I only recently met this family and enjoy their company very much.

There are also cookbooks. While I await the arrival of the two I’ve just ordered: Ottolenghi’s Simple and The Cookbook, I’m diving back into The Complete Mediterranean Cookbook and The Silver Palate.

I will also, of course, dip back into my kindle library to look for something a bit lighter while I brace myself for reading those “I don’t wanna” books that will be improving, enlightening, and in the end, I am sure, entertaining.

I will also note this irony here: I sometimes write very dark books. I am writing one right now, the eighth Joe Burgess police procedural, Such a Good Man. Before that, it was the “medium boiled” Death Sends a Message, book eleven in my Thea Kozak series. And last summer, I went more light-hearted with Unleashed Love, my attempt at a romance with readers tell me is women’s fiction. Maybe my need for lighter reading is precisely because I already spend so much time in the dark world of criminals and crime.

My question for my fellow readers in this: Do you sometimes wimp out and reject the books you should be reading? Do have a type of book you take refuge in? Or are you the disciplined reader who believes in finishing what you start and that sometimes we read the books because they improve our knowledge of the world?

The Other Writer in the Family

From 2009 but we more or less look the same

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here. As you may have seen in a recent Weekend Update or on my Facebook page, I’m no longer the only writer in the family to have published a book. My husband, Sandy, is the author of Well, Hell: the yarns of Bobby Wing, constable of Skedaddle Gore, Maine. He’ll be visiting Maine Crime Writers on October 18 to tell you more about that himself, but I can’t resist chiming in with a few comments about what it’s like living with someone who’s totally wrapped up in producing a publishable piece of fiction.

Sandy tried his hand at writing fiction twice before. The first time, when the state was having budget difficulties back in the late 1980s and laid off almost all of their recent hires, he had time on his hands and filled it, in part, by writing short stories and one pretty decent science fiction novella. None, unfortunately, sold, but he did sell a short nostalgia piece titled “When Dad Went to Sea” to Down East Magazine. His grandmother was so proud she had it framed.

More recently, after he retired from a long career in law enforcement and we gave up the Christmas tree farm, he started writing stories featuring Bobby Wing. Three were published, in the Best New England Crime Stories in 2015, 2016, and 2017. Then his focus shifted to other things, like his woodworking business, skiing, and cycling. He’ll tell you more about that on October 18, too.

Not too long ago, he got another idea for a Bobby Wing story, but this time things were a little different. I guess you could say he was inspired. Or maybe obsessed. I may not have written anything new lately, but he sure has.

the author (at least part of him) at work

It’s been an experience for both of us. I wasn’t used to having him hole up in his office for hours on end, losing track of time and even, on occasion, forgetting to eat. He started getting up in the middle of the night to jot down an idea before he forgot it. He got defensive after asking me for feedback when he didn’t like my gently worded suggestions for change. On the other hand, he often came up with a compromise after he had time to think about it.

Has it hit you yet? He turned into ME!

Now that the book is out, will things go back to normal? I doubt it. He’s just discovered that Facebook isn’t so bad after all. And he’s exploring other avenues of online promotion. I have a feeling he may be better at that than I am. That said, at least for the moment, he’s back to making his jigsaw puzzle tables to sell online. And me? I need to return to revising that book I was working on in August.

If you like eccentric characters, rural settings, and weird crimes, please consider a visit to the world of Bobby Wing, Constable, Fence Viewer, Animal Control Officer and Deputy Fire Warden of Skedaddle Gore, Maine. Bobby’s “yarns” are humorous stories of murder, romance, mystery, redemption, adventure, reluctant derring-do and the wages of sin. They run the gamut from a severed head to a body on a ski lift with plenty of local color in between.

The e-book is readily available for the bargain price of $7.99. Here’s a link to Amazon, B&N, and others: https://books2read.com/wellhell

 

A trade paperback is also available. Any bookstore can order it, but there are still “supply chain” problems with printed books, so be patient. We haven’t even received our author copies yet. It’s priced at $15.99.

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett has had sixty-four books traditionally published and has self published others, including several children’s books. 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. She was the Malice Domestic Guest of Honor in 2014. Her most recent publications are The Valentine Veilleux Mysteries (a collection of three short stories and a novella, written as Kaitlyn) and I Kill People for a Living: A Collection of Essays by a Writer of Cozy Mysteries (written as Kathy). She maintains websites at www.KaitlynDunnett.com and www.KathyLynnEmerson.com.