Connie di Marco's Blog, page 4

Thrilled to be visiting Jungle Red Writers!

Jenn McKinlay has graciously invited me to visit Jungle Red Writers.

You can read about my journey to becoming a mystery writer here!

My Interview at A Blue Million Books

And the next day I visited Amy Metz at A Blue Million Books to chat more about the latest release in the Zodiac Mysteries.

Archeolibrarian

My interview at Archeolibrarian posted on August 8, 2018.  I gave up lots of secrets about the Zodiac Mysteries and my San Francisco astrologer Julia Bonatti who always finds answers in the stars!

 

Blog Talk Radio with Fran Lewis

My interview with Fran Lewis was a great chat!  On its release date, we discussed Tail of the Dragon, the Zodiac Mysteries, writing, mystery plots, astrology and more. 

Alcatraz

Bodies in mysteries can be discovered anywhere, right?  Preferably within the first few chapters of a book.  But I’m always looking for interesting places.  Places where Julia Bonatti, my San Francisco astrologer, can become involved in a crime.  And I love the thought that she could be found at an iconic San Francisco site – like the “Rock.”

People know Alcatraz, the island of pelicans, as a federal prison.  But well before then, the island had a long and interesting history.  It was first discovered in 1775 by Spaniard Juan Manuel de Ayala, although Native Americans claimed to have known of its existence for 10,000 years.  Alcatraz boasted the oldest operating lighthouse on the west coast and in 1828 it was put to use as a military prison during several wars — the Civil War, the Spanish-American War and even World War II.

From 1934 to 1963 it was a federal prison for the most notorious criminals in America — Al Capone, Robert Franklin Stroud (the “Birdman of Alcatraz”), George “Machine Gun” Kelly, Bumpy Johnson, Mickey Cohen, Arthur R. “Doc” Barker, and Alvin “Creepy” Karpis.  In addition, another 700 people– wardens, guards, electricians, along with their families, lived a sheltered life in a small, intimate community on the Rock.

Alcatraz was considered inescapable because of isolation by the cold and hazardous currents of the waters of San Francisco Bay.  Yet thirty-six desperate prisoners, in spite of the dangers, made fourteen separate escape attempts.  Twenty-three of them were caught alive, six were shot during their escape, two drowned and five are listed as missing and presumed dead.

Of those five in 1962, the Anglin brothers, John and Clarence, are considered the most likely to have survived the swim.  As boys, they had learned to swim in the icy waters of Lake Michigan.  It’s just possible they had the stamina to survive.  One long-standing rumor holds that they survived the journey and escaped to Brazil.  However, the F.B.I. officially concluded in 1979, on the basis of circumstantial evidence and expert opinion, that the men drowned in the frigid waters before reaching land.  The U.S. Marshal’s case file remains active though.  The Anglin brothers, probably long deceased, remain on its most wanted list.

Today Alcatraz is a popular tourist stop by way of the ferry from Pier 33. 

If you’re so inclined, I warn you — it’s a cold and creepy place.  The stone and brick walls are dank and slimy and, I swear, there are some strange odors.  The Rock in my opinion is a monument to human misery.  Oh, and did I mention?  It’s reputed to be haunted too.  No surprise!  But more about that in a later post.  Maybe it’d be a good place for Julia to visit after all.

This post first appeared at Jane Reads on June 27, 2018.  

Restless Spirits

I love ghost stories, especially the scary ones, even though I’ve never written about a ghost.  Well, maybe that’s not quite true.  If you’ve read The Madness of Mercury, the first book in the Zodiac Mysteries, you’ll remember there’s a ghost story connected to the Gamble House and even a séance!  But considering that San Francisco isn’t that old a city, it does seem to have more than its share of haunted sites.

For example, the Squando was a Norwegian sailing ship that docked in San Francisco in 1890.  The captain discovered that his wife was having an affair with his first mate, so he lopped off the first mate’s head and dumped the body in the Bay.  Shortly after, the captain, his wife and the head disappeared and were never found.

The story doesn’t end there though.  The next three captains of the Squando were murdered by their crews.  The ship was finally docked in New Brunswick but no one could be found who would guard the ship.  All claimed they saw a bloody headless man roaming the ship at night.  It’s also said that on foggy nights an old three-masted ship can be seen sailing aimlessly in San Francisco Bay.

How about the tall glass and steel highrise at 555 California Street.  It was built in 1969 and for a long time housed the Bank of America.  Office staff have been freaked out by files flying off shelves and cold spots moving through the rooms.  One theory is that victims from the 1906 earthquake are still trapped underground.  That’s not much of a stretch actually, because in truth, rubble from collapsed buildings and hundreds, if not thousands, of bodies were plowed into the Bay when the clean up after the earthquake began.  The powers in the city at that time were in a big hurry to clear up the mess and attract investors.  So much of the land South of Market Street is filled land (not good in a quake) and was created from this very rubble.

Then there’s Flora Sommerton.  She was a debutante from a wealthy family who was about to be forced into a loveless marriage to an older man.  Flora was having none of it.  At her engagement party in 1876, she ran away and never returned home. Many years later in 1926, she was found dead in a cheap hotel in Butte, Montana.  It’s said that on foggy nights, young Flora can be seen walking down California Street from Nob Hill still wearing her white ball gown, the same gown she wore that fateful night in 1876.

There are many more ghost stories in the city – the lady of Stow Lake, the Haskell House, the Atherton Mansion and even more.  If you’re interested in exploring, check out this site for a walking tour:  San Francisco Ghost Hunt.   Hope you’re not easily scared.  It’s not for the faint of heart!

This post first appeared at the Pulp and Mystery Shelf on June 26, 2018.   

 

Haunted Alcatraz

On this blog tour for Tail of the Dragon, the third book in the Zodiac Mysteries, I planned to highlight a few iconic San Francisco locations — places where my sleuth, astrologer Julia Bonatti, might visit or become involved in a crime.  The Island of Alcatraz was one of them.  However, there was a slight problem — there is so much history and so many stories on this tiny island, just a mile and a quarter from the city, it was too much to squeeze into just one post.

So here goes – here’s what I’ve learned about the spirits of the island:  Alcatraz is considered one of the most haunted places in America and certainly the most haunted prison in the country.  Early explorers to the island found an eerie atmosphere.  Native Americans knew of the island for thousands of years and even though they gathered bird eggs and fish for food, believed that evil spirits resided there.  They used the island to deport criminals under tribal law and as a burial site for outcasts.  When the Spanish began to spread Christianity in the 1700’s, natives who did not want to convert used Alcatraz as their refuge.

Long before it was utilized as a federal penitentiary, it was a military prison for America’s earliest wars.  Many were incarcerated there, some were declared insane after their imprisonment, many died and many were horribly tortured.  So it’s no wonder that prisoners, rangers and visitors have reported a wide range of ghostly activity — whispering in empty cells, locked cell doors opening, phantom figures in corridors, cold spots, floating blue lights and figures, moaning, the clanking of chains in unoccupied cells and even the sounds of musical instruments and sewing machines.

Psychics and paranormal investigators believe that D-Block, the worst cell for punishment in the “Hole,” is the prime location of most of the ghostly activity.  Four of its forty-two cells are thought to be haunted.  Cell 14-D in particular is permanently icy cold even during the summer.  One inmate in this block claimed to have seen glowing red eyes in the dark and screamed for hours.  He was found dead the following morning with a purple face, bulging eyes, and unidentified strangle marks around his throat.  Although I suspect it’s likely there was human cause for his death.

In an odd twist of history, Native Americans occupied and held the island from November 1969 to June 1971 in an effort to create a cultural center on the basis of a broken 1868 treaty between the Sioux and U.S. government.  In their statement to the world they said:

“It would be fitting and symbolic that ships from all over the world, entering the Golden Gate, would first see Indian land, and thus be reminded of the true history of this nation. This tiny island would be a symbol of the great lands once ruled by free and noble Indians.”

Their efforts were commendable, but in light of the island’s eerie history, perhaps they should have heeded their ancestors and chosen a less haunted place.

What do you think?  Would you fancy a short ferry ride to Alcatraz?  Would you want to stay there overnight?  Brrrrr . . .

This post first appeared at Varietats2010.blogspot on June 17, 2018. 

The Mystic Eye

If you’re a fan of the Zodiac Mysteries, then you’ve definitely visited the Mystic Eye.  You know a lot about it and have met many of the eccentric characters who hang out there.  The occult shop is owned by my protagonist, Julia Bonatti’s, good friend Gale.  And even though I didn’t plan to set so many scenes there when the series began, it just sort of happened.  It was a great place for the characters to come together, especially at the psychic fairs.

There’s Nikolai, the Russian past life regression hypnotist, a larger than life man with a mysterious background.  There’s Zora, the medium and psychic who scares Julia half to death sometimes, lots of other psychics, Wiccans, Tarot readers and all sorts of characters.

So where did my Mystic Eye come from?  A long time ago, there was a real Mystic Eye, also on Broadway in San Francisco, but a little farther east, past the strip clubs and bars and comedy clubs of North Beach.  I remember it well.  It was a strange, dark little place, draped in black hangings.  It sold books and ointments and image candles for candle burning rituals, books on cultural and religious practices, some of it rather dark.  Not particularly my cup of tea, but I was curious since there was no shop like it in the city at the time.  It’s long gone now, so I felt safe using that name for the Zodiac Mysteries.

Julia’s Mystic Eye of the Zodiac books also has an exotic and mysterious atmosphere – plaster gargoyles, Tarot cards, crystals, books on psychic power and healing and religions of all sorts, candle burning supplies, dreamcatchers, magical herbs and ointments, greeting cards and lots of things that make great gifts.  Here are some photos that in spired me when I was writing the Zodiac Mysteries.  Have a look and see if this looks like your mental image of the Eye.  I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Is there anything happening at The Mystic Eye that you’d like to know more about?  Is there any field of study in the occult world that I haven’t touched upon?  Pyschometry? Remote viewing?  Candle burning?  How about crime or murder?

I hope you’ll stop in at the Eye soon and read about Julia’s adventures in the third book in the Zodiac Mysteries — Tail of the Dragon.  See you at the Eye!

This post first appeared at Island Confidential [frankiebow.com] on June 23, 2018.

Let’s Call It What It Is

It’s murder.  That’s what we love to read and that’s what crime fiction writers write.  But have you ever wondered about all the euphemisms we have for murder and death?  There’s a whole bunch.

There are the obvious ones – Uncle Herbert passed on or maybe Uncle Herbert passed over.

And then of course we have these —

He bought the farm

He’s pushing up daisies

He met his maker

He kicked the bucket

He’s gone to his heavenly reward and if Uncle Herbert was a complete scoundrel then we can assume he’s now roasting in hell!

So that led me to wondering why we’re all so fascinated with crime fiction, no matter the genre, whether we read it or whether we write it.

Is it the puzzle itself?  How many people in the mansion had access to the elderberry wine?

The whodunit?  Any one of the sewing circle could have skewered the victim when no one was looking.

Is it the scary thrills and chills of suspense?  Is my husband really who he says he is?

Is it the determined hunt we find in forensics and police procedurals?  Or is it all of these?

I know why I find it so fascinating.  It’s the psychology of the act.  The burning thing that drives an ordinary person to commit murder.  The exploration of the mind of an absolutely normal, everyday person who finds himself or herself in dire straits and doesn’t see any other way out.  I’m not talking about serial killers here.  They’re just completely nuts.  They need to be locked up forever so they won’t hurt anyone.  But the fascinating thing for me is the inner workings of the mind of an average human being pushed beyond the pale.

What about you?  Why do you read crime fiction – whatever the genre?  I’d love to hear your thoughts.

This post first appeared at A Blue Million Books on June 25, 2018.

S is for Sue

I admit I’m late in paying tribute to an amazing writer.  Late in joining the ranks of all those friends and fans who were heartbroken at the news of Sue Grafton’s death at the end of 2017.  I think it’s just taken me this long to accept she’s no longer with us and that, as her daughter Jamie Clark has written, the alphabet now ends at Y.

I was late in discovering Kinsey Millhone as well.  One night, hungry for a good mystery book, I was browsing through a Crown Books.  Yes, that’s how long ago it was.  Remember those stores?  Something caught my eye and I picked up K is for Killer.  That was the beginning and needless to say, you know I went back and started at A is for Alibi and didn’t miss another story from then on.  As I cracked open each book, I took a deep breath and got ready to embark on an adventure with an old friend – with Kinsey.

The California Crime Writers Conference, sponsored by Sisters in Crime and SoCal Mystery Writers of America takes place every other summer.  In 2015, Sue was our guest of honor and I was involved by virtue of organizing the craft track program at the conference.  A dinner was planned to welcome Sue on the Friday night before the start of the conference.

As one of the organizers I was invited to the event.  I was terribly curious to meet the woman who had offered so much entertainment through her books.  But I hesitated.  Part of me wanted to go and part of me held back in trepidation.  I still remember my ambivalence, my hesitation.  I was worried.  What, I thought, if she’s not at all the person I imagine her to be.  What if, heaven forbid, she’s not very likeable?  My image would be shattered.  Would the alphabet series be spoiled for me?  So, for that reason and a few others due to time constraints, I begged off the dinner and to this day I’m still kicking myself.

Fortunately, at the conference, I did get to meet Sue and chat with her.  I found her alone at a signing table.  No crowds, no fans.  A rare moment.  She signed her book Kinsey and Me, a revealing autobiographical account of her life and as a gushing fan girl, I told her how much I had enjoyed every single one of her books and how much she had inspired my writing.

And guess what?  She was delightful!  She still had a Kentucky accent even after many years in California.  She was utterly charming, warm and friendly, and put me at ease immediately.  Her daughter said recently at Sue’s memorial service in New York this past April that: “. . . .  no amount of fame, or money, or acclaim changed who my mother was.”

That day Sue and I chatted for a bit and then she did something that I will always remember.  She wiggled her fingers in my direction and said, “Fairy dust . . . fairy dust . . .” to wish me well in my writing journey.

Thank you, Sue.  I hope you’ll forgive me for passing up that first chance to meet you.  And I hope your journey is peaceful and blessed for all time.  You have given us so much.