Christopher H. Jansmann's Blog, page 9

The Last Mile

I’ve been a runner long enough to know that the final section of any race (or workout, for that matter) tends to be the one that takes the most out of you. That has also long seemed to be the case when I’m working on a new novel — each one has its own special challenges, but invariably, as I begin to reach the end of any of them, I find time slows down so much that it feels as though I will never complete the story. Some of that is the long list of last minute, did-I-put-that-clue-where-I-thought-I-did tweaks that are made when the denouement takes place, but as I’ve continued on this journey as an author, a far greater portion is my inability to say goodbye to the characters so I can put them away for a bit. I wind up so invested in them — in their lives, their day-to-day being — that I hate to set them aside for any reason.

So I slow down, inching my way toward those final words that signify the close of one narrative, and, if I’m lucky, the threads of what might become another. I usually have a sense of what the next tale for my characters will by the time I shut down that final session in Scrivener; it may nor be fully fleshed out, but there is enough that I don’t feel guilty that my characters will be in an empty purgatory until I return to the word processor some months later. That new story might change slightly during the intervening period, but not always in a significant way; I have actually set aside certain plots for a future story when a new idea hits me, one that feels more appropriate to whatever stage my characters are currently in.

I live in fear of returning to a just-written manuscript, though; not so much because of the daunting editing task that usually follows, but often because I worry that what I wrote will be, frankly, awful. Often when you are in the moment the prose feels like it’s spot on; after letting the paragraphs languish for a bit, the trepidation builds that I wasn’t quite a brilliant as I thought, or the words that felt so cleverly chosen at the time were, in fact, not. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way as an author; nor do I ever wish to become immune to them. Coming into the editing phase with a bit of self-introspection makes for a better product at the other end of the process, plus though I can’t always disguise the anguish I feel when entire passages get struck after review. It can be a harsh activity, one that never gets any easier no matter how many times I’ve been through it.

So I’m in that last mile now with Solitude, writing those final chapters that will reveal all to the reader and, hopefully, provide some small level of satisfaction. The story has been an unusual one, seeing Sean Colbeth deal with a case mostly on his own. I love this character and how he has grown over the last six books, and in book seven, he takes another step on his journey. I honestly can’t wait to share this novel with you, but, alas, it will be a bit before it’s ready for release.

Until then, there’s a book eight to consider…

A New Friend

A few weeks ago, I posted about the loss of our dog, Rocket. Losing him was a blow that I had a hard time recovering from; my far more sensible wife rather smartly prevented me from immediately driving over to the Humane Society, for the ache in my soul would have seen me returning home with a carful of pets that we really couldn’t have supported. We needed time to grieve, and then, with time and distance, evaluate whether we were in a position to be pet parents again.

As you can probably imagine from the photo for this entry, it was a thoughtful but short discussion; just before the Fourth of July, we made a trip to the Animal Refuge League of Green Valley searching for a new forever friend. We found the appropriately named Amigo in one of the outdoor kennels, a rescue who had been with the shelter since the Christmas holidays. I’m not ashamed to admit it was love at first sight — when the handler took him out for a meet and greet with us, Amigo immediately went to my wife and easily allowed her to lead him to the multipurpose room. Once there, he settled between the two of us as though we’d been a threesome all along. After adopting so many pets over the years, I’ve come to the conclusion that most pets choose us, much as we would like to believe it’s the other way around; it was clear after a few hours that Amigo had found his humans, and we brought him home that afternoon.

Amigo the day he arrived, enjoying being in his forever home.

So I feel obligated to admit I’m having a hard time not spoiling Amigo. The toys you see in the above photo are all my fault, along with the half-dozen not shown; I may or may not have also purchased special treats to make him feel more at home. He’s also much younger than our last dog — the shelter told us he was three, but the vet thinks he might be closer to 18 months. Either way, he has a lot more energy than we are used to dealing with, which has meant some minor adjustments in our lives in order to keep Amigo engaged. I suspect once it cools down enough this fall, he’ll happily accompany me on my early morning jogs, though if he does, we might need to chat a bit about how frequently he stops to smell the bushes.

I’m so happy he’s joined us — yes, there is a bit of learning curve for all of us with a dog so young, but Amigo is already a huge part of our family. There’s nothing quite like the greeting I get when I return home from my day job every evening, nor the unconditional love he seems to exude with each wag of his tail when he sees us. While there’s still a tiny ache in my heart for Rocket, Amigo has managed to snuggle his way into the rest to my soul — and I couldn’t be happier.

Starting Book 7

The July, 2023 version of Camp #NaNoWriMo is upon me, which predictably means it’s time to begin crafting another novel in one of my series. While I’m still keeping my eye on possibly completing the magical #mystery I’d begun last year, this time around Sean Colbeth is getting his seventh #novel, tentatively titled Solitude. I’ve had a hankering to do a “locked room” mystery with Sean for some time now; Downhill was pretty close, given how everyone was stuck in Windeport during a brutal nor’easter; Solitude will take it a step further, setting the events of the novel on a small island out in Windeport harbor.

In some ways, the location is the continuation of a thread from Downhill where I mentioned in passing that there was a mail boat that made daily runs from a wharf in Windeport; it wasn’t more than a hint perhaps that there were island communities out there in the harbor, but it was enough for my writer’s brain to begin building out a small, quiet, picturesque spot where people could, of course, get up to nefarious purposes. I don’t want to spoil anything from Vengeance other than to say it also helps that Sean has a bit of free time on his hands and can spend it away from his village.

It’s also weird that this book will be my fourteenth overall; I’ve been trying to keep to my pace of writing three each year (one during each NaNoWriMo event, essentially), so that has helped to propel me to this point. I have had this fear that the further I got in each series, I would lose my ability to craft unique plots that allowed my characters to continue to grow. Grounding them as real people — and continuing to pay attention to current events — seems to have prevented that from happening to me (so far), though I do sometimes catch myself accidentally repeating a watershed moment written in a prior novel. I also don’t want Windeport to become Cabot Cove; much like the people running the village, I am well aware that becoming known as a nexus for murder will kill tourism (pun intended). Coming up with unique ways to still be in Windeport while not running afoul of this principle is a continuous challenge I enjoy facing.

Solitude is also going to be a book where Sean is totally on his own. Up to this book, he’s traditionally had a supporting cast to help him; this time around, he’ll be left to his wits (and whatever else he can find on the island). I mean, he won’t be totally alone — and it is the modern era, with things like the internet available to the investigation — but this notion that he can show us, as readers, just what sort of investigative chops he has under the worst possible conditions feels like a story too good not to tell. It’s shaping up to be a fun ride, so stay tuned as I begin this journey.

Sean’s fifth book, Bewitched, hits stores on July 4, 2023. I really love this story, especially with the additional backstory I was able to bring to Sean — backstory that has been rattling around in my brain since his first appearance in Blindsided. If you are looking for wonderful summer read for the long holiday week, check it out!

Bewitched Tidbits: Three

I hope you’ve gotten all of your supplies for the Fourth of July holiday — including, perhaps, your copy of Bewitched. What could be better than kicking back during your barbecue and digging into a nice old murder mystery? To help seal the deal, here are some additional tidbits from the forthcoming book.

Sean commits to doing a July 4th cookout at the bungalow.

You probably already know this is a bad idea, given how little Sean actually cooks. Did I mention he regularly looks forward to heading to his cousin’s for meals? Or that he always picks up his meals at Millie’s on the Wharf? (Honestly, what was he thinking…?)

Knowledge is power.

Once again, Sean leans into the resources available at the Windeport Public Library to understand what sort of case he’s gotten himself into. I’m quite fortunate to have access to a wonderful library system here in Southern Arizona — one I use extremely regularly when doing research for my novels — so it seemed appropriate to give Sean something similar.

We find out about some hijinks Sean got up to while on the swim team at Windeport Regional.

When we first met Sean back in Blindsided, we only had hints of what he’d experienced as an elite athlete. In Bewitched, he reveals to Suzanne just how close he came to tossing all of that away.

Viva Las Vegas

It wasn’t my intent to have Sean fly halfway across the country, but when a lead develops that requires an in-person followup in Sin City, he’s on the first flight he can get out of the Portland International Jetport. Not surprisingly, other surprises await the Chief there…

Yearbooks play a role.

I don’t know about you, but my high school yearbook is hiding on a shelf far, far away from the light of day. Fortunately, Sean has kept his a bit more handy — a fact that will help him during his investigation.

Okay! That’s it for now. Just a few more days until the book appears — get yours today!

Bewitched Tidbits: Two

As we get closer to the July 4th release of Bewitched, here are some additional tidbits to help whet your appetite for a new mystery.

Suzanne is there for Sean when he really needs someone.

Investigating whatever it was that happened in that mysterious ice house forces Sean to revisit portions of his youth that he’s pretty much kept in a box for years. With a ton of love and a healthy dose of empathy, Suzanne will help him understand that sometimes you have to walk through the fire to get to the other side…

Sean has a connection to the cold case.

Twenty years earlier — when he was a teenager — he was part of the Windeport-wide effort to locate a missing student. He never expected to have to pick up the threads twenty years later.

Vas has a cameo (that leads to his next book).

What can I say? It’s hard to keep Sean’s best friend out of mischief.

We’ll see a familiar face again, too.

Maybe not the one you are expecting. But it is someone from Bygones who makes quite the impression on Sean’s new Assistant Chief.

That’s… pretty vague…

I suppose it is. Saying anything more would be a spoiler, though.

Windeport has a starring role this time out.

While Sean does have a propensity for traveling, the bulk of this story takes place in Windeport and features locations you’ve not seen yet. (His next book, Vengeance, expands on the Windeport footprint as well.)

All right! That’s it until my next post. Be sure to pre-order your copy of Bewitched today.

Bewitched Tidbits: One

It’s that time again!

July 4th is when my latest Sean Colbeth mystery novel — Bewitched — hits store shelves. (Shameless plug: there’s still time to preorder your Kindle or hardcover if you’d like to get a copy right out of the gate.) As is now traditional, here’s the first set of tidbits to tease what’s to come for our intrepid investigator. (I promise no spoilers.)

This one is personal.

Perhaps more than some of the prior books in this series, the case that Sean finds himself mired in hits a bit too close to home for his tastes; awkward teenage memories he’d rather forget play a huge role in discovering what’s been hiding in a decrepit ice house at the edge of Windeport.

Wait — did you say ice house?

As a matter of fact, I did. If you’ve never heard of one, suffice it to say it’s a throwback to a time before refrigerators, part of an industry that was critical to Windeport’s fishing economy back in the day. (There are still a few of these interesting architectural marvels out there, the one I know about in Maine inspired the location for this particular story.)

Windeport has lousy cell coverage.

Well, that was kind of a given considering the rural county the village is located in. It doesn’t help that there are a number of hills (and valleys) that make reception trying even in the best of times.

Don’t tell me you’re going with the trite plot device of a cellphone that can’t make a call…

I wouldn’t dream of it.*

(* this is neither a confirmation nor a denial.)

Sean has a new number two.

It took three books to convince Sean he needed to replace Vasily. Those were hard conversations with him, but in the end, I think he’s satisfied with his latest hire at Windeport P.D. (I think you’ll like his choice, too.)

Charlie loves her cat as much as her children.

I suppose any pet owner worth their salt would agree with this viewpoint; I know I do and don’t blame her in the least for pressuring Sean into locating her missing feline at the beginning of the story.

Okay, that’s it for this edition. Stay tuned as I continue to count down to the release of Bewitched on July 4th over the next few posts.

Passings

We came back from our weekend in California to find Rocket completely out of sorts. As many pets as we’ve had over the years, my wife and I are pretty attuned to sudden variations in behavior and were understandably alarmed; it was completely unlike him to snub his meals, and even more unusual to shorten (or abandon entirely) his cherished walks. Above all else, he just looked wrong to our eyes, enough that we haunted our usual vet until a midweek cancellation allowed us to sneak him in for an emergency review.

Nothing seemed obvious to our vet out of the gate, but tests were ordered and some medication prescribed just in case he was having another bout of sour stomach; a lump on his leg that had grown more pronounced was biopsied and, to our horror, revealed the possibility of a sarcoma. Surgery was scheduled for the lump before we returned home, worried all was not well with our fur child. By the time we reached Friday, our concerns seemed to have been well founded when Rocket began to have trouble walking — and then crashed to the floor of our living room just after dinner. When he was unable to get back up, I carried him to the car and we swiftly headed to an emergency veterinarian in Tucson, fearful the worst possible situation any pet owner might face was upon us.

The expression on the doctor who met with us was enough to get my heart pounding; the words that followed were devastating enough that I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut by someone wearing brass knuckles. Our amazing companion had a body riddled with tumors, a form of aggressive cancer than had not been on his x-rays a year earlier. There were no good options at that point, so we were forced to let him go long before we were ready to do so.

We’ve lost pets before, of course, but Rocket arrived on our doorstep just a few months before the pandemic turned the world upside down; his constant presence and unwavering love for his humans got us through those dark days. Sure, he stole my spot on the couch regularly, but given the difficult life he’d had prior to joining our family, I was more than willing to overlook his transgression. I may have also been the one that opened the door to him snuggling into us each night on our bed, a rather difficult prospect given his size. Still, I know he was happy — happier than he’d ever been — which makes it all the worse that we’ve lost him in the way we did.

It’s been a week now since he left us, and I keep seeing Rocket everywhere. I know it will be a bit before I stop doing that, but what feels odder is how guilty I feel when his usual walk times arrive and we’re not suiting up to take him out. The bed also seems far larger now that he’s not with us (which it’s not, of course), and it’s insanely weird not to have to convince him to get out of my seat on the couch so I can watch television with my wife. I can’t quite get myself to take up his water and food dishes; his collars are still sitting on the bureau, right where we left them after his final walk.

Yeah, I miss him.

In time, we’ll head back to the Animal Refuge League and see if there’s another dog willing to take a chance on us. Hopefully one will. But for now, we need a little more time to grieve.

Graduations

I’m just back from spending the weekend in California, helping our friends celebrate the graduation of their eldest daughter from high school. It was one of those wildly bittersweet moments that reminds you just how quickly time can pass, and often it does so without warning. I can still remember pushing said daughter around in a stroller at Disneyland, so watching her stride across the stage to receive her diploma was a bona fide tear jerker. My wife and I have had the privilege to watch her grow into an amazing young woman, one who I know will do great things in the world.

In some ways, I came away from the weekend with a touch of melancholy; with my nephew living in Maine, I’ve not really had much of an occasion to play the doting Uncle more than a handful of times during my trips back home. Time and distance have worked against me more than I would have liked in that regard, the price I paid for allowing my career to dictate where I landed. This age of nearly-instant communication has ameliorated some of that guilt, but there again it’s not entirely the same as spending a long weekend traipsing the wide sandy beach together (or wandering down Main Street U.S.A. wondering what the wait time is for Space Mountain).

One of the first stories I actually published was for my nephew. After spending the afternoon with him a number of years ago now, I returned to Arizona with all of the fantastical stories he had told me about an imaginary place where good pirates sailed magical seas. Wanting to do something special for his next birthday, I crafted a unique tale that fit into his little universe and then pulled out my box of crayons to add some illustrations. I’m the first to admit my artistic skills run toward the written word, but on the whole, I thought the sketches kind of worked. I only printed a few copies of the book in a paperback format, and sent one to him; I pulled my copy from the shelf after getting back from California this weekend and smiled a little nostalgically at how much has changed — and how grown up the kids in my life have become.

It’s rather sobering.

Cone of Shame

It’s been a long week for our dog, Rocket.

A few months ago, my wife and I noticed a growth on his rear paw; it wasn’t very large, but the two of us were concerned enough to drag our poor pet to the vet in order to get it checked out. We’ve had the same practitioner for many years now, and she’s a true gem capable of talking us out of fearing the worst; fortunately, it didn’t appear to be anything more than a common skin tag, something that even humans can develop. She gently sent us home with instructions to keep an eye on it as it was quite possible it could grow to a point that it became bothersome to Rocket.

We did as instructed; unfortunately for our pooch, that line came early last week when we discovered him attempting, shall we say, to perform his own bit of dermatological surgery. So it was back to the veterinarian to get it looked at properly; when Rocket returned to us, he was sporting a fancy blue bandage and, unfortunately, the canine equivalent of the Scarlet Letter.

Thankfully, it’s only for a few weeks, but it is truly difficult to watch him try to navigate his world with an unexpected extra few inches of diameter about his head. We’ve been pushing furniture around to make the openings wider for him, and trying to keep all of the doors open so he won’t accidentally bang into them; after a day or two, he managed to figure out how best to sink down onto his favorite pillow for a nap, but it’s clear he’s not terribly comfortable. I’ve found myself apologizing to him at every turn; knowing Rocket likely couldn’t help himself does little to assuage my guilt. Let’s just say a few extra treats have been snuck in here and there to help both of us feel better.

He has a follow-up with the vet on the day this blog posts; the bandages should come off, but I think the cone will be sticking around a bit longer. Hopefully that will get offset by his ability to take longer walks than we’ve been able to do so far; one thing he truly misses is those grand adventures he takes every morning, scouting out the various changes in the neighborhood since his last appearance. I’m sure he’s like most dogs in that every single rock requires his attention; he also seems to know everyone that should — and those who definitely shouldn’t — be in our neighborhood. I can’t wait to see him back out there sniffing the air and scowling at the Yorkie from the next street over that just can’t seem to pass muster.

I’ve finished writing novel number thirteen, Mirage, and posted a new page for it on the website. I don’t think it will be out until late 2024 at this point, so hopefully it will be something nice to look forward to for that holiday season. It came in a bit shorter than my last Vasily book — not by much, but shorter than the last few have run. I think that is a good thing, for while I tend to let the story go where it wants to go, I never desire for it to linger on for another hundred pages when it could wrap up in a satisfactory way in fewer. Still, I made add more to it during the editing process — filling in areas that initially seemed complete but on second look had some gaps that could have added more shading to a character or the plot. I like the story quite a bit, and hope you will too; I’ll spend the next few weeks fleshing out my next idea with an eye toward starting that one (maybe) in July. Stay tuned.

Focus Tidbits: Two

Ready for a few more breadcrumbs about Focus? Then you’re in the right spot.

Suzanne’s a little annoyed with Vasily.

More than a little, actually. And he can take no solace in the fact that she’s truly pissed with her boyfriend, Sean Colbeth. Hopefully Vas can get back on her good side…

Rosie knows everyone.

Is this a surprise? Not for Vasily, especially after how our favorite millionaire author has lent a helpful hand in more than a few of his cases. Sean, on the other hand, is rather amazed…

Alejandro literally finds something in Vasily’s closet.

Not that it wasn’t hiding in plain sight, of course, but leave it to the diver to find a unique way to use the item in question to try and relieve some of the stress Vas is feeling while dealing with Sean and the case.

On the other hand, suspects can hide in plain sight.

It’s a lesson that Vasily learned a long time ago, but one that he’s too distracted to remember — a memory lapse that has repercussions.

Palm Springs and St. Lucie both make an appearance.

I always feel bad for the amount of time I make Vasily spend on the freeways of California; the route back and forth to Palm Springs can be especially awful during February when the snowbirds have emigrated to the desert. I tried to make it up to him with a long weekend at Rosie’s “cabin” up the coast… except, of course, he had to drive to get there…

Okay! That’s it for this edition. Be sure to follow me to get additional tidbits as we get closer.

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