Who's creative?

Last Saturday I was part of a panel at Chabot College in Hayward, California. The event, which we called a "literary gathering," was very successful. Ann Parker shared her techniques for researching and writing historical fiction; Margaret Lucke, also a professional editor, told us about her newest paranormal romance; Barbara Bentley described how she turned her true story of marriage to a psychopath into a gripping memoir, "A Dance with the Devil;" Patrick May, an award winning, world-traveling journalist for the San Jose Mercury news, talked about life in the newsroom. We all talked about the pleasures and the business of writing. A nice day, all around.

At the break, one of the participants asked me how I could do two such different things: physics and fiction, since fiction is so CREATIVE.

"It's all fiction," I told her. "And physics is about as creative as you can get."

Too bad it wasn't the right forum for a discussion of what physicists tell us the universe is made of: incredibly small invisible strings vibrating in at least 11 dimensions (see graphic!).

This means that if you look closely (that is, mathematically closely, not optically closely) you, your computer, and your banana are made up of molecules, which are made up of atoms, which are made up of electrons, neutrons, and protons, which are made up of quarks, which are made up of strings.

This latest physics model is called String Theory, and, sometimes, The Theory of Everything. It can be thought of as an upgrade of the Standard Particle Model, which brought us elementary particles such as muons, pions, bosons, leptons, and three flavors of quark.

Really.

Now, does that sound UNcreative to you?

[For more on this, you can sign up for my class at Emeritus College in Walnut Creek, California. Thursday, April 2, noon to 3.]

Death of a Cozy Writer by G. M. Malliet

The first of our Agatha-nominees for Best First Novel is G.M. Malliet. Here G.M. tells us about her debut mystery, Death of a Cozy Writer:


A reclusive old mystery writer, a dubious wedding invitation, and an inheritance up for grabs—at this family reunion in the English countryside, murder is all relative.

Death of a Cozy Writer is the story of a British crime writer who is anything but cozy. Sir Adrian is, in fact, a cantankerous, capricious, and spiteful man. To keep his family of four dysfunctional children in line, he frequently changes his will, disinheriting one after another in turn. It’s a dangerous game, not unlike Russian roulette. Then one day he announces his plans to remarry, and the panic really sets in. Not surprisingly, someone ends up dead, and DCI St. Just and Sergeant Fear of the Cambridgeshire Constabulary are dispatched to investigate.

**

Nancy Pearl of National Public Radio has called Death of a Cozy Writer “a delightful homage to the great novels of Britain's Golden Age of Mysteries.” It was completed with the aid of the Malice Domestic Grant (now the William F. Deeck-Malice Domestic Grants Program for Unpublished Writers) and chosen by Kirkus Reviews as one of the Best Books of 2008.

**

Thank you, Killer Hobbiests and Joanna, for inviting me to tell you a little about my book. And by the way, St. Just’s hobbies are skiing and drawing. (There’s more about the latter hobby in the second book in the series, Death and the Lit Chick.)

Please visit me at http://GMMalliet.com for more information.

**

Next week, our guest will be Sheila Connolly, aka Sarah Atwell, author of Through a Glass Deadly.

** Clue word: Skiing
Remember--Submit all five "clue words" and I'll draw a name from the group on Monday, May 11. The winner will receive an autographed set of all five of the Agatha-nominated Best First Novels. That would be G.M. Malliet's Death of a Cozy Writer, "Sarah Atwell's" Through a Glass, Deadly, Rosemary Harris' Pushing Up Daisies, Krista Davis' The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, and Joanna Campbell Slan's Paper, Scissors, Death.

Yay for Today

It’s almost my birthday which makes me think about celebrating. When I was writing scripts and video proposals, I discovered I never knew when to celebrate because it seemed like everything was always maybe, which at any time could turn into no. So, I decided to celebrate everything and anything.

For example, my reasons to celebrate today are: I got a nice email from a librarian at a branch of the Los Angeles Public Library telling me that my books are a big hit at the library and inviting me to give a talk; it’s beautiful outside and the orange trees in my backyard are all in blossom filling the air with a sweet floral scent; I’m almost finished doing the taxes stuff; and like I mentioned it’s almost my birthday.

I can find a reason to celebrate almost everyday. If someone almost smashes into me as they make a left turn, after referring to them as a jerk a few times and once my heartbeat returns to normal, I’m ready to celebrate the fact that an accident didn’t happen. All I have to do is think about how much that would have messed up my day and probably many to follow, and I know it’s going to be a great day.

Any smidgen of good news or possibilities will make me want to celebrate, too. I made an occasion out of being close to finishing the fourth crochet mystery, which might be called A Twisted Yarn. And when it was truly done and on it’s way back east, I celebrated again.

My celebrations aren’t necessarily big. It could just be sitting in my backyard, drinking a cup of coffee and thinking happy thoughts. Or it could be going somewhere special or going anywhere, for that matter. I’m a cheap date and enjoy a fast food veggie burger or a walk in the mountains to watch the sun set. Or even a bag of Trader Joe’s microwave popcorn and an episode of Monk counts as an event for me.

I suppose someone could say that if so much is special doesn’t it dilute the meaning. It doesn’t. You can’t dilute joy. It only comes in one strength - full.

Book Giveaway

OCEAN WAVES has hit the open marketplace. What fun. The third in the quilting mystery series is set in Asilomar, one of my favorite places. The hundred acres of beach and forest, dotted with Julia Morgan Arts and Craft style buildings, is located just north of Pebble Beach and south of the Monterey Peninsula, along the Pacific. Luckily, the state has been able to keep the accommodations reasonably priced. The buildings which started out housing YWCA women now house fictional quilters on retreat.

I thought you might like to see some of my research.

Merrill Hall, the site of late night meetings


Cold, treacherous waters


Wildlife



The path to the beach



Trees sculpted by the wind




Great architecture



Mercedes' headquarters




a lonely hiding place




Comment on how you think these places fit into the plot of OCEAN WAVES. Some lucky person will win a free copy!

Deadlines and Life

I have an April 1 deadline looming. It’s for an upcoming Silhouette Nocturne, a sequel to my January release ALPHA WOLF, and involves one of the Alpha Force shapeshifter characters introduced in that story. Great fun to write!

I’ve finished a viable first draft and got some good comments from writing friends who read it. It’s getting there...

At least these days editors want manuscripts to be e-mailed rather than snail-mailed. That means I have until nearly the last minute to get it to New York.

Which is a good thing, since I spent last weekend celebrating birthdays. I also have some other time-consuming things to attend to this week. At least I’ll have this weekend to finish working on the story, and I think it’s close to being ready anyway. But I generally like to use up all the time I’m allotted before sending off a manuscript, just in case something else important occurs to me.

Each new deadline I meet feels like a special accomplishment, whether a hard one or one that I’d no trouble with. I know that some of my fellow Killer Hobbies bloggers have met some especially difficult deadlines lately!

How do you deal with deadlines in your life--whether writing or otherwise?

--Linda

Eyesight is something you don’t think much about until threatened with its loss. I don’t mean the fading into nearsightedness that happens with age, I mean blindness.

I’ve known I have glaucoma for many months. I’ve used my eyedrops and gone to have my pressure measured at regular intervals, but while my eye doctor fussed about not getting the pressure down to low normal – at high normal there were still signs of the disease progressing – I wasn’t too worried. It didn’t hurt, and I couldn’t see any difference in my vision.

But he could see a difference in the back of my eyes and at last he sent me to an eye surgeon for an opinion. And the opinion was, I needed surgery. The operation, I was told, was simple: a tiny slit would be cut in the eyeball, and treated so it wouldn’t close with scar tissue. Fluid would slowly seep from the permanent wound, bringing the pressure down. Piece of cake.
Well, not exactly.

I was expecting it to be an office procedure, since it was same-day surgery and didn’t call for cutting into my skull or my torso. But no, I went to a clinic with that, in the back rooms, resembled a regular hospital. I wasn’t undressed, but was invited to lie down on a gurney, covered with a blanket, and hooked to an IV, a blood pressure cuff, a heart monitor, and given oxygen through two little prongs in my nose. What is it about a heart monitor that makes some people nervous? I spent several minutes trying to calm myself and knock off the ten extra beats per minute it roused in me. No luck.

A good-looking young man in surgical scrubs introduced himself as my anesthesiologist. I couldn’t invent him for a book, unless it was a broad comedy. He spoke in a slow, soft, gentle voice, as if he’d been using the tools of his trade on himself. I almost laughed out loud at him. I was thinking Valium – and indeed that was used for this procedure. But first he needed to knock me out briefly while he did something unpleasant involving a needle and my eye. Sure enough, I was gone briefly, and when I came back I couldn’t see out of my right eye. I was assured in a gentle voice that this was all right, and wheeled off to an operating theater. A white translucent cloth was put over my face. Normally I cannot abide a cover on my face, it makes me feel as if I’m suffocating, but between the Valium and the oxygen, I felt just fine.

The surgeon and his nurse talked about very mundane things that I can’t quite remember – I think one of them was a vacation one of them was planning – while he worked. I felt nothing at all, not even pressure, until the end, when a cool liquid was poured over the eye and a bandage was applied. The eye is tender, and I have to wear a guard over it at night to prevent myself from accidentally rubbing it – it goes on these little spasms of intense itching and I am under no circumstances to poke at it. It is intensely red but not bruised and I hope it heals without incident. I have eyedrops to use four times a day and I’m to pay attention to any sharp pains that may develop.

After all this, I am now taking my vision seriously. If this is required to save my vision, then something important and scary is going on inside my eye. My paternal grandmother lost her eyesight as a child, and I have a very dear friend who is blind. But I don’t think I ever seriously considered what it might be like to be blind myself. Not until now anyway. Now I’m grateful I live in a time and place where glaucoma is not a sentence to a life lived in darkness. Because, you see, I have glaucoma in both eyes. On April 2, the other one goes under the knife.

You want me to do what?

I'm delighted today to have as my guest B. Lynn Goodwin, WriterAdvice Managing Editor;
Small Press Review (Dustbooks) Reviewer; California Writers Club Columnist; and author of
You Want Me to Do What? -- Journaling for Caregivers. I've known Lynn for many years; she's a dedicated writer and generous member of my community. It's a pleasure to welcome her.


1. How long have you been writing, Lynn?

I balanced a piece of lined paper on the slanted oven door of my sister's toy stove when she was off at kindergarten, and I pretended to write a story, so I've been writing a long time. I wrote an article for Dramatics Magazine when I was on leave from my job teaching high school English and drama in the eighties. They scooped it up and when I proposed a series of nine more articles about acting exercises, written in diary format by one of the students in the class, they said yes to that too. Suddenly I believed I could write.



2. Tell us a little bit about your latest, "You Want Me To Do What?"

You Want Me to Do What? Journaling for Caregivers encourages people to relieve stress by journaling, demonstrates an easy way to do it, and offers over 200 sentence starts to help anyone begin. Finish the sentence, write the next sentence, and you are journaling. Journal with others and you'll probably want to share and hear what works.

3. What motivated you to write this book at this time?

Over 10 years ago, I got a call from my mother, who said, "I was at the refrigerator, and then I was in the dining room, and then I was back in the kitchen, and I went back and forth, but my hand never left the refrigerator door. I think something's wrong. Can you come up?" I got in my Geo Prizm and drove to her condo. When I got there she was sitting on the sofa in her breakfast nook. "I've called an ambulance, and I need to go to the bathroom before they get here, but I can't walk," she whispered. "I think I could get there if I could hold onto your shoulders." I led her to the bathroom, with her hands balanced lightly on my shoulders, just as she said, and that was the beginning of six years of caregiving.

My mother was a proud, feisty, stubborn, beautiful woman who was dying one cell at a time. I did not know she had undiagnosed Alzheimer's until nearly six years had past. I grew frustrated, trying to help her and make the world conform to her expectations, and since I could not tell her, I turned to my journal. It let me vent, rant, analyze, process, and eventually figure out what I could and could not do. By writing, I found hope.

After she was gone, I realized that there were plenty of prompts for writers, but none for caregivers, who needed the relief that writing about a problem can bring. I knew everybody could journal if they had a little help, and I knew my sentence starts, two or three words that trigger thought, would be enough to get them going. They'd worked for my freewriting group, my tenth grade students, and they'd even helped my high school actors discover their character's inner thoughts. Once I got the idea, which came to me as a gift from the Universe, I ran with it.


4. Was it hard to find a publisher or distributor for this book?

The agents who expressed an interest in You Want Me to Do What? were either caregivers or relatives of caregivers. They loved the concept of a book and knew how valuable journaling would be for caregivers. Their bosses told them that the caregiver market is hard to reach and the book would be too difficult to market. After hearing this, I gave up searching for the right agent and began looking for a publisher that was open to unsolicited manuscripts. After talking with one of the executives at Tate Publishing, whose wife had been a caregiver for a father and a mother-in-law, I found a match.

I'm still exploring marketing strategies. My goal is to get this book into the hands of as many caregivers as possible, so I'm in touch with the Alzheimer's Association, the Hospices, the Stroke Foundation, the Cancer Associations, Parkinsons, groups that deal with autism and other special needs children, nurses, social workers, and more. Tate uses Ingram as their book distributor, and I believe Ingram has reordered more than once.

5. What kind of promotion do you find most effective?

The jury is still out on that. I reach out through e-mail, through the phone, and face-to-face. I write on other people's blogs. I've been a guest columnist on websites, shared articles, done radio interviews, joined Facebook and LinkedIn, and more. The opportunities are there if I keep my eyes and ears open. I'm proud when people I know buy copies for their friends, but that is a very low-tech marketing strategy. I'd love to have this book available at workshops on aging. Can you put me in touch with someone who needs this book?

6. Other than writing, how do you spend your time?

I walk the world's best Shih-Tzu, Mikko McPuppers. I read a great deal--sometimes for Writer Advice interviews and book reviews and sometimes for the joy of escaping into a world uncluttered by deadlines, errands and multi-tasking. I just finished directing an evening of monologues called WOMEN SPEAK OUT, a fund raiser for the Danville-Alamo Branch of the American Association of University Women (AAUW). I'm also running Writer Advice's Fourth Annual Flash Prose Contest (deadline April 15). I like to travel, meet friends for lunch or movies, and play with my camera when I get the time.

7. Have you tried your hand at fiction?

I love a well-told tale that explores human behavior--whether it's fiction or memoir--and I love the joy that comes from writing them. I've explored the beginnings of fiction and memoir in a group called Temescal Writers, I've drafted a bunch of story starts in a private freewriting group I call the Berkeley Women, and I've had a few short pieces published. I have several drafts of a YA manuscript, currently called Talent, but after being in a Young Adult novel class this fall I realized I no longer enjoy the genre. Though I was strongly encouraged to keep going, I am grateful that I have moved on.


8. What's next for you?

Once I get caught up with promotion, the next issue of Writer Advice, and the Writer Advice Flash Prose Contest, I want to write more fiction and memoir. I got a few story ideas while directing WOMEN SPEAK OUT and this week I got one from being in a pool of jurors. Now I need time to write more than promotion for You Want Me to Do What? and once I have something drafted, I'll need to find writing partners to give me feedback.

9. Any advice for aspiring or beginning writers?

No one else can tell your story. Don't let your slice of human history get lost. If every freewrite is on the same subject, there is more to explore. Keep digging for the gold. And, in case you haven't heard it, write every day if possible and read in the genres you want to write.


10.Anything you would like to add?

1) Visit Writer Advice, www.writeradvice.com, to read author interviews, reviews, the latest contest and market info, and the pages about journaling for caregivers. Click on "Guidelines" if you want to submit your writing to us.
2) If you read this before April 15, 2009, consider entering Writer Advice's Flash Prose Contest. Guidelines are on the home page of Writer Advice.

Thank you for this opportunity, Camille. After 12 years of interviewing authors for Writer Advice, it's great fun to be the subject of an interview.

Introducing The Twisted Sisters

In honor of the Agatha Awards, which will be voted on at Malice Domestic the first weekend in May, we have a special treat for all of our readers— exclusive postings by all the authors up for Best First Novel and a contest to win a complete set of 2008 Agatha Award Best First Novels autographed by the authors. We’ve rounded up the five women who will forever more be known as The Twisted Sisters—and asked each of them to stop by our blog on the upcoming Mondays.

Here’s The Twisted Sisters' schedule:

March 30—G.M. Malliet, author of Death of a Cozy Writer

April 6—Sheila Connolly (Sarah Atwell), author of Through a Glass, Deadly

April 13—Rosemary Harris, author of Pushing Up Daisies

April 20—Krista Davis, author of The Diva Runs Out of Thyme

April 27—Joanna Campbell Slan, author of Paper, Scissors, Death


Here’s how the contest will work: At the end of each Twisted Sister’s post will appear a “clue word.” To enter you must send all five clue words to savetales@aol.com Put AGATHA in the Subject Line. On Monday, May 11, we’ll draw one winner.


Meanwhile, here’s a listing of all the short stories up for Agathas. I don’t know how long they’ll be available for you to read after May 3, so I suggest you dig in now and enjoy!

"The Night Things Changed" by Dana Cameron Wolfsbane and Mistletoe (Penguin Group) http://tinyurl.com/c6yu4d

"Killing Time" by Jane Cleland Alfred Hitchock Mystery Magazine - November 2008 http://tinyurl.com/bhcjhm

"Dangerous Crossing" by Carla Coupe Chesapeake Crimes 3 (Wildside Press) http://tinyurl.com/c8fnx8

"Skull and Cross-Examinations" by Toni L.P. Kelner Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine - February 2008 http://tinyurl.com/ahhehn

"A Nice Old Guy" by Nancy Pickard Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine - August 2008 http://tinyurl.com/bvk5t2

P.S. For those of you curious about Virtual Book Tours, Beth Groundwater is guest posting on Inkspot. Go to http://midnightwriters.blogspot.com/

P.P.S. Congratulations to "Anne" who commented last Monday on where she finds new books to read. Anne, please contact me at savetales@aol.com with your postal address so I can mail you the book and the Benne Seed wafers.

The End is Near

Another week that disappeared. I haven't been to the gym since Sunday. My only outings have been going for a couple of walks in the mountains and walking the dog. The rest of the time I have been over my computer going through my manuscript for the last time. I've been up until 2 a.m. every night. Then stumbling into bed bleary eyed.

I just have a few more pages to go through and a few more changes make. Then just the crochet pattern and the recipe and crochet mystery number 4 gets a FedEx ride to New York. The end is in sight, which means soon there'll be clean laundry again and a chance to run the vaccuum.

National Quilting Day

Tomorrow is National Quilting Day. This is a serious day, unlike National Iron Your Hair Day or National Eat a Kosher PIckle day. Really! It's been celebrated for nearly twenty years, with events held in quilt shops all over the country.

Over that time, it has morphed into a holiday for doing something for the community at large, not just celebrating the community of sewers. Quilters get together and sew projects for people in need. Charity quilts, comfort quilts, whatever they're called, the result is the same.

Making quilts for others is a long-standing tradition. I have a friend who has quilts under her bed for unborn great grandkids, graduations that are ten years away, and marriages that might never take place. For many quilters, after the needs of the family and extended family are met, they turn to sewing quilts for charity.

Quilts are being made for premies, for war veterans, for nursing home residents, for troubled teens and for the homeless. Kids taken out of violent homes often receive a handmade quilt. Quilts are made for the survivors of war, or terrorist acts. The recipient tell of feeling wrapped in love.

My local guild, SCVQA, has a long-standing Philanthropy Committee that makes flannel receiving blankets and quilts for kids. Last year, guild members donated nearly one thousand items to local charities. I'm pretty sure that our numbers are in keeping with most of the quilt organizations across the nation. That's a lot of quilts. What amazes me is the sheer number of requests that we get. Seems like the number of unfortunate people who could use a quilt never diminishes.

So if you have the notion tomorrow, make a block, or a quilt top. I'll be sewing on a binding for a quilt that someone else pieced. This small quilt will be passed on to someone who needs a little comfort.

Family! Celebrations!

I’ve just had the pleasure of picking my older son and daughter-in-law up at the airport for a very special occasion. My d-i-l knew my son would especially like to celebrate a milestone birthday in L.A., so she arranged to surprise him with a trip here!

My younger son is visiting, too. I’m delighted to have everyone around.

Plus, this also heralds my brother’s birthday--and mine! That’s the three-in-a-row I’ve mentioned before.

Since we live in the L.A. area, I think we’ll celebrate my occasion by a visit to Disneyland, although that hasn’t been decided for certain. In any event, my celebration started last month with our trip to Las Vegas and taking in the Terry Fator show. It continues thanks to having family around!

What are you celebrating next?

--Linda

Deadly Force

Day before yesterday Ellen and I took an all-day course in "concealed carry." That is, as in weapon. You know: A gun. One of these days someone in my novels is going to get talked into carrying a gun – probably Betsy – and I wanted to know how the process of getting a permit works. Besides, maybe because I write so much about criminal behavior and how ordinary people can find themselves in danger that I began to wonder what I would do in real life when faced with a deadly threat.

But it’s an awesome thing to pick up a gun. In a strange kind of way, it’s like getting married. Dating can be fun, but marriage is serious, not something to be entered into lightly. Same with owning a gun. It’s an extremely adult thing, not something to do frivolously.

Our instructor was a woman and we were her only students for this class. She teaches at home – which is in a mobile home park. We sat on a comfortable leather couch facing the biggest big-screen tv I have ever seen in my life. Pauline had her class set up on her computer, which was connected to the television screen, so we read along as she taught us about guns, the law, and the heavy responsibilities laid on people who decide they need to carry a lethal weapon.

We looked at different kinds and sizes of bullets and learned how to identify rim fire from center fire cartridges. We looked at revolvers and semi automatics of various sizes and got to handle them in an unloaded state and learned their various parts. We learned about the laws concerning owning and carrying such weapons.

We learned that it’s true that pug dogs are friendly and that they snort and snore – Pauline owns a coal-black one, who wanted to take naps on our laps.

We ended the long day at a firing range. Even with ear protection, the man down the line firing an AK-47 was making a terrifying noise. When you know what you are doing, the fear of picking up a lethal weapon diminishes and empowerment happens. I was given the loan of a 9 mm semi automatic. I loaded the clip and inserted it into the grip, snapped off the safety, and put fifteen holes in a man-shaped paper target, thirteen in the center of his chest, one in his throat and one in his belly button – my hand was getting tired near the end. I hadn’t fired a gun in many years, so this was very satisfying. The distance was only eight yards, but in real life, that is about where the decision to pull the trigger happens. Sad and scary, and I most sincerely hope I never have to face a real threat. But now I know I can.

Ellen passed, too.

Short and sweet

In these times of instant feedback, short is in. Finally, those of us in the front row of every school photo have come into fashion.

[Oops, I guess that's not the kind of short that's in. Maybe some other time.]

One of my friends, writer and educator, Jo Mele of Diablo Valley College, introduced me to a book called "Six-Word Memoirs." I fell in love with the concept, and also latched onto "I Was Told There'd Be Cake."

Another example, written on a tombstone: "I told you I was sick."
Then there's the famous six-word story by Hemingway: For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

I started to think how I could sum up my life in six words.

My first attempts were very bland: (oh, dear, is that my memoir?)

• Mother was wrong; I am okay.

• First science, then fiction -- the same.

• Boston to California, oops, wrong direction.

Eventually, I got to the point: (oh, dear, is THAT my memoir?)

• The knife was not sharp enough.

• The glue couldn't keep it together.

What are your six words?

How Do You Decide What New Books to Buy?

I’m curious. How do you find new favorite authors? How do you learn about about the books you add to your TBR (To Be Read) list? What influences you to seek out a book—whether it’s going to the library or to your local bookseller or to Amazon or Kindle? How do you decide whether to buy a book rather than “rent” or borrow it?

Here’s my hunch: By this time in our lives, we pretty much know what we like, right? So if we perceive a book as being “something I’d like,” we don’t mind buying it. We keep an eye out for announcements that a favorite author has a new book.

But where do you go to find that out? Where do you find those announcement? And how do you learn of NEW favorite authors? Especially, where do you go online? That “journey” you undertake to find out about something that interests you is called a “Desire Path.”

Mike Arauz created an excellent presentation on Desire Paths in the digital age. Go to
http://www.mikearauz.com/2009/03/desire-paths-branding-for-digital-lives.html

Desire Paths are unauthorized pathways that people create to get to where they want. We’ve all seen them. They are those “footprints” that diverge from the concrete sidewalk because folks don’t want to take a meandering path suggested by the landscaper! An architect friend of mine once told me that the smart designer waits to put in the concrete path. After he sees where people WANT to go, he follows their lead.

Arauz points out that the world used to be “top down.” We only had a few choices—ABC, NBC and CBS plus a daily paper—and this was where we got our news. Now, with the digital media, we can choose what we read and view. We go to “google” and we look up what interests us. Or we bookmark spots on the web. Or we follow a blog like this one. Or we join Shelfari or an online group of readers such as DorothyL or Cozy Armchair Group.

Tell you what—I’m really curious as to how YOU discover new authors. I’ll give you all week to comment—to share where YOU go for information on new releases--and then next Sunday (March 22) I’ll draw a name from the commenters. I’ll send that person a copy of Timeless Autumn by Kathryn Fox, Carol Finch and Linda Madl. Heck, I’ll even throw in some yummy Benne Seed Cookies to munch on!

Coffee, Tea and Murder Takes the Cake

While the collective Evelyn David can readily agree on how to commit murder, there is a deep schism between the Northern and Southern halves on caffeinated brews.

Every morning, Rhonda, the Southern half of the writing team, stops at the Golden Arches on her way to work for a large coffee, which is served in a disposable cardboard cup. To this steamy brew, she adds four packets of Equal, definitely not Sweet & Low, and four little tubs of liquid creamer.

In contrast, Marian, the Northern half, drinks only tea (preferably King Cole from Canada), eschews all artificial sweeteners, and instead, mixes in a teaspoon of sugar (which, she adds defensively, in addition to making the medicine go down, is also only 15 calories), and a splash of skim milk – all preferably brewed in a china teacup.

The great divide between Rhonda and Marian is less the issue of coffee versus tea, and more which kind of container should hold the hot liquid. And that is the reason for this blog. Collecting stuff – different kinds of stuff – is one of our hobbies.

Rhonda collects dolls. She has her original Barbie with signature ponytail and eternally bright blue eyeshadow. Read her Happy Birthday Barbie blog at http://woofersclub.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-50th-barbie.html

In addition to her Barbie she has most of the dolls from her childhood, well-worn and well-loved. She also has around 20 porcelain dolls. As for her coffee, as long as it’s hot, sweet, and somebody else made it, she doesn’t care what kind of container it’s in. In fact, she prefers not having to wash anything once she finishes that last sip. A high school basketball player, she keeps up her skills by checking if she can still score a three-pointer by heaving the cardboard cup from her desk into the trashcan by her office door. It’s a rim shot, but Score!

Marian, on the other hand, collects bone china teacups. At this point, she has more than 50 different patterns. There’s no rhyme or reason to what she buys – pure whimsy (and price). She rarely pays more than $10 for a cup and saucer – usually less. Her husband, kids, family, and friends have contributed to the collection. It becomes part of every vacation to look for a teacup – whether she buys any or not. The fun is in the hunt! When having a crowd for dinner, Marian puts out a selection of the cups to serve coffee/tea and dessert. Guests enjoy choosing from the “Royal Collection” – souvenir teacups with the faces of various members of the British monarchy. While guests readily opt for the teacup featuring Queen Elizabeth and King George VI (the parents of the current monarch who were happily married for 29 years until his death), there seems to be general agreement that the teacup featuring the wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana has bad karma and no amount of sweetener, real or artificial, can change that.

The wonderful, late George Carlin once mocked Americans for all our collections. “That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it.” We know it’s foolish, but whether it’s dolls, teacups, bandaids, bouncy balls, or banana box labels (to name a few of the weird collections I’ve seen), we collect stuff because it’s interesting, pretty, or just plain fun.
Sometimes, collecting is a perfect reason to commit murder. Either somebody wants the same stuff you do and is willing to kill for it – or maybe somebody is just plain tired of all your stuff, and is willing to do anything to get rid of it. Sounds like a good plot for a mystery – and we’re collecting those too!

Evelyn David

Evelyn David is the pseudonym for Marian Edelman Borden and Rhonda Dossett. While many fans who attend mystery conventions have chatted with both halves of Evelyn David, Marian and Rhonda have yet to meet in person. For more details on this unusual partnership, visit their website at Evelyn David is the author of several short stories including Riley Come Home in the Missing anthology from Echelon Press.
http://www.echelonpress.com/direct/buy-missing.htm

Murder Off the Books is available at http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Books-Sullivan-Investigations-Mysteries/dp/1590805224/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1236894181&sr=8-1

Murder Takes the Cake is available at http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Books-Sullivan-Investigations-Mysteries/dp/1590805224/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1236894181&sr=8-1http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Takes-Sullivan-Investigation-Mystery/dp/1590806182/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1236894314&sr=1-2

Left Coast Crime

Even though this posts on Saturday, I’m writing it Friday night. Did I really get home from Hawaii this morning at 7? I was supposed to arrive at 5:30 a.m., but the plane was delayed two hours getting to Kona. The Kona airport is basically outside and it was kind of chilly. All those people dressed in their shorts were shivering. Actually the weather was very untypical the whole time I was there.

It is supposed to rain 11 days a year. It rained four of those while I was there. When the sun finally came out, the wind picked up and was bad enough to make them cancel the whale watching boat ride I was supposed to take. That’s not to say that any of it was uncomfortable. I kept the door to my patio open the whole time and let the air blow in my room. I sat on the beach watching the sunsets (when the clouds made it possible to see them), went on a wonderful trip to the north end of the big island and back with stops at the Parker Ranch and several towns, and watched a sea turtle as it slept on the shore.

It was my first Left Coast Crime conference. I met lots of great people and there were lots of fun activities. Opening night featured a dessert buffet and some getting to know you games. Every night there was some kind of entertainment. They screened a movie or some TV shows and one night there was a nicely done production of a play someone at the conference had written based on a Charlie Chan book. A lot of the actors were from the University of Hawaii at Hilo. They were very actorly in their performance, which I particularly enjoyed. One man seemed to have a signature wave of his arm he used to punctuate a scene. The play was preceded by a luau minus the pig for budgetary reasons. No loss to me the vegetarian.

The panels were fun. My brain is still in tired mode so I hope this makes sense. These panels were the first I’ve done since the crochet mysteries started coming out. It was extremely neat to find out some people in the audience had actually read one or more of my books. I have to admit that me and my fellow panel people all had a hard time with the Hot Sex and Cold Blooded Murder panel because most of the sex in our books is suggestive rather than overt and mostly off scene. I’m not sure what the people in the audience came expecting.

Even with having fun, I managed to get a lot of work done on the book I need to turn in next week. What a great place to work. I’d look over my shoulder and see the ocean – and sometimes rain drops. I also sat on the balcony crocheting samples of the patterns in the book.

Another really nice touch was the gourmet grocery store in the mall a short walk away. Instead of having to eat in a restaurant, I was able to pick up fruit and salads and vegetable sushi. I hate having to eat somewhere and order something and tell them to hold the shrimp, but I still get charged for it.

Hawaii didn’t go to daylight savings time, so between the half of my clocks at home that haven’t been changed to daylight savings time and my brain which thinks it’s earlier than it is, I’m still a little confused. But nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.

Character trials

Spoiler Alert. If you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire, this post might give some things away. I'll try not to, but just been warned. This is a cross post from Inkspot earlier this week.

I've just seen Slumdog Millionaire. It's good. It's hard to watch. And it reminded me that that in order to have a truly happy ending, one that satisfies and fits the characters, those characters must go to hell and back.

We're nice people. We try to protect the ones we love from harm. Particularly as women, we seemed to be hard wired to make sure everyone is comfortable, fed and watered, with their emotional needs met. And that includes our fictional people. It's hard to put your favorite characters in peril, over and over again. But that is the only thing that will make your book worthy of being printed.

It's not that your protagonist has to have a gun to her head every other page, but the stakes must be high, must be real and must be out of reach. Your character must come this close, only to have her dreams snatched away. Again and again. She must betray and be betrayed, hurt and be hurt, lie and be lied to. It’s watching characters get out of the messes that make fiction interesting.

There were times during Slumdog that I had to put my sweater over my head until the worst on screen was over. Jamal Malik wasn’t so lucky. He had to lose everything in order to get the one thing he wanted. And the audience wanted him to succeed. If we hadn't seen Jamal swim in a cesspool to get to his hero or come this close to being blinded, we wouldn't have cared so much about him.

What trials and tribulations do you put your characters through?

Research?

I’m a collector of all kinds of research. I save articles from magazines and newspapers, as well as books I think might be of use. I even print stories from the Internet.

What I’m not is organized. I tend to toss my research materials in folders of similar kinds of stuff, but when I look for a specific article it takes me forever to find it.

When I’m looking for ideas, though... they’re there! I have quite a collection of information on all kinds of areas that might be useful for stories. Lots of stuff about animals, for example, particularly dogs. Things on lawyers and the law. Things about crimes, criminals and real crime scene investigations. And now that I’m also working on a thriller idea, I’m amassing stuff on the aspects of that story that I intend to focus on.

How about you--do you save things you think will be of interest later, whether to any writing you’re doing or something else you intend to do in the future?


--Linda

Florida

I'm sitting in my sister's still-dark room (but there's a mockingbird outside the open window, singing his heart out to welcome the coming dawn) typing this on her computer. I can't get online with my laptop down here, so I have to use hers. Please excuse the brevity of this, therefore, and also any typos.

There are gekkos (is that how you spell it?) down here, those tiny lizards that serve as the model for a car insurance agency on television. These little guys aren't green, but brown -- and they don't walk on their hind legs or speak with an Australian accent, either. But they are cute and they can climb any vertical surface, even glass. There are cats in the house, and they amuse themselves by hunting the gekkos and bringing them inside. It's a catch and release program for them, the lizards are probably very annoyed, but uninjured by the experience. I took one away from the cat early yesterday morning, and found it sluggish or sleepy and went outside with it on my hand to sit in the sun. Sure enough, his problem was that he was cold, and after a few minutes of hand-warmth plus sunshine on his back, his head suddenly lifted, his breathing quickened, and he went zipping off my hand, down my leg, and into the shrubs that line our pool.

I hear it snowed yesterday in Minneapolis. The temperature here was in the mid-eighties. I went out to dinner with my sister at a restaurant called the Bahama Breeze. Had a drink called the Mojito, which consists of crushed lime fragments, fresh mint, juice from sugar cane, and rum, all over crush ice. For dinner I had the mahi-mahi with mango sauce, steamed very slim and tender green beans and mashed sweet potatoes flavored with cinnamon. We drove home under a rising full moon. As they say, "Just another day in paradise." When the sun comes up in the morning, I just want to imitate a gekko and sit in the sun, working on my tan. Do a few laps in the pool, then back in the sun. Every three hours I take Mom to the bathroom, bring her a drink of orange juice or a snack, or a simple meal, talk with her awhile, then go back out in the sun. I am getting some stitching done, but I'm not working very hard on it. I've got a whole five pages done of Buttons and Bones, the next Betsy Devonshire mystery.

As I have said before in this blog, Life is Sweet.

Glory, glory

Where did you go to church on Sunday? I went to the Gospel session at the Monterey Jazz Festival.

What's not to like about starting the morning with "Amazing Grace" by Igor and his jazz cowboys (in the red vest, of course).



and ending with "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" by the Titan Hot 7?

The traditional New Orleans "Second Line" umbrella people paraded by at appropriate intervals.


As a "word person" I'm always impressed by the in-your-face words of country gospel lyrics. The words leave little to the imagination, and trigger an emotional response as much as the music.

Here are a few tear-jerking lines:

I went back home my home was lonely
For my mother she was gone
All my brothers sisters crying
For the home so sad and alone

Undertaker please undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For that body you are hauling
Lord I hate to see her go

Will that circle be unbroken
By and by Lord by and by?


Are there any special lyrics that get to you?

Going Green

This is the month for GREEN, isn’t it? My daffodils pushed their heads about six inches above the old mulch. My bluebells stand tall at three inches. The grass is turning emerald. All the stores have stocked their St. Patty’s Day trinkets. And we’re green here at the Slan household, too. Last weekend, on my way to teach a class, I shoved all the whites into the washer. (Confession: I was sick of looking at them!) As I hoisted my bag of handouts and reference materials over my shoulder, I heard a yell (Okay: A curse word or two!) from the laundry room. My husband was ankle-deep in water. He was grabbing towels and trying to sop up the flood. (Gee, that’s the first time he’s EVER mopped the floor. ) As he swabbed the deck, he shouted that the water was dripping through the floor and had ruined the ceiling in the basement.

This, he was sure, was the result of…overloading. And he gave me the EVIL EYE.

Then he hit his head on the cabinet above the washer. Twice. (Yeah, he can be a slow learner.)

I left for my class.

On Monday the repair guy came. Ha-ha-ha! I had not “done in” our washing machine. Nope, that 14-year-old Maytag had burst a seal. We could pay for repairs, but a new machine would be cheaper—and more ecologically sound. (No, I didn’t bribe the repairman, but…I could have kissed him! Vindication is a joyful thing, ain’t it?)

How much greener did we go? The old washer used an average of 42 gallons per load and the new one uses…STAND BACK…an average of 15 gallons. David and I are in shock.

In fact, we’re tickled green.

###

News and Appearances

Monday’s author, Joanna Campbell Slan, will be presenting “Effective and Economical Marketing” on Saturday, March 21, at the Sunset Hills Barnes & Noble store for the Missouri Romance Writers Association. Go to http://www.morwa.org/calendar.htm for details. On Tuesday, March 24, she’ll be teaching “A Guide to Getting Published” at Lewis and Clark Community College in Edwardsville, IL. Go to http://www.lc.edu/media/55322/cpespring09_personalenrichment.pdf Joanna’s article “Travels with Joe: Power Promotion in One Day” appeared in the March 2009 issue of RWR (Romance Writers Report). Joanna’s book Paper, Scissors, Death has received an Agatha nomination for Best First Novel.

Tuesday’s author, Camille Minichino (Margaret Grace), has organized a Literary Gathering at Chabot College in Hayward, CA, March 28. She'll be joined by Ann Parker, Margaret Lucke, Patrick May, and Barbara Bentley for an afternoon of socializing, refreshments, and literary discussion. (510) 723-7531 for tickets. On April 2, Camille will be keynote speaker for a fundraiser for the new Castro Valley, CA, library. A full schedule of classes and events is at http://www.minichino.com

Friday’s author, Terri Thayer, will be speaking at the Milipitas Alliance for the Arts Literary Luncheon on March 28th. Tickets available. Call Larry Voellger at 408-942-6960 or http://www.milpitasarts.com.

Saturday’s author, Betty Hechtman, is flying back from appearing on two panels -- one is one mixing romance in with the mystery and the other is about cozies -- at Left Coast Crime in Kona, Hawaii, March 7-12.

Visit us every Sunday for updates and news.

Aloha

I’m in Kona, Hawaii at Left Coast Crime. It is supposed to rain 11 days a year here. It was raining last night when I arrived and is raining again today. I am taking that as special. Not that the rain is bad here. Except that the wet pavement made my feet sleep out from under me this morning as I was carrying some bags back from the gourmet market. Not that that was too bad either. Some man came to help me up, apparently expecting the worst (he said something about how easy it was to break an elbow). I was fine. Not even a scrap or scratch. I got up and continued on back to the hotel.

This is the first conference that actually has my books in the onsight bookstore. It was pretty cool to walk in and see Hooked on Murder, Dead Men Don’t Crochet and Blue Schwartz and Nefertiti’s Necklace all on display. So when I have my signing time, there will actually be books somebody might want me to sign.

Last night on the flight I was crocheting the pouch purse for the fourth book. I love crocheting on a plane. It is like meditating. I don’t think, my fingers move and I totally relax. One of the fight attendants asked me what I was making. I explained about the crochet mysteries and gave both her and her partner flight attendant bookmarks for Dead Men Don’t Crochet. She got all excited about the book marks and the books, she wanted to give me an on the house drink. Hopeless non drinker that I am I declined. Instead she opened the snack drawer and gave me cheese and crackers and a bag of nuts which was a welcome gift as I got to the hotel late and food operations were limited. The gift became my dinner.

I love Hawaii. Every place I’ve been on the islands is great. This is my first trip to Kona. My room has a balcony with an ocean view and I could sit and look out forever. There are some side trip possibilities. I’m pretty sure I’m going to go whale watching. Ah, I looked up and the sun is beginning to come out even as I still here the tinkle of rain hitting something. I’m going to go look for a rainbow.

Real World

Is it Friday? Sorry, it's day after a book deadline for me, and all else has faded from my memory. Ten days ago, INKED UP came back from the editors at Berkley and it needed some work. So off I went into the fictional world of Aldenville, PA where a body is found in a corn maze and lots of people are not who we think they are. Fun.

Writers must throw themselves into the world they're creating. The real one drifts away as I enter that place. The laundry piles up, food is eaten on the run, the DVR saves episodes of Lie to Me, Lost, and Trust Me. (Not Friday Nigh Lights. I watch that one almost live.) Phone calls go unanswered. Emails get grunting replies. Exercise is done, mostly because it gives me my brain back, so I can write more. I can't keep this up forever, but for a week or two at a time, it's okay.

Now it's time for reentry. Remembering what I was doing before I started this process. Getting back to the sewing machine, setting up a card stamping date. Cleaning the house.

And doing the laundry.

March Milestones

March is a big month for me.

It always is. It contains my older son’s birthday, my brother’s birthday, and mine, right in a row. It contains what was my mother’s birthday, and although she is now gone my older Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Lexie shared it with her for a short time.

My sister-in-law’s birthday is also this month. So is the anniversary of the night my husband and I met. And we’ve already celebrated the first anniversary of the day we brought home our younger Cavalier, Mystie.

One of these milestone days is also the birthday of my agent’s son. And there are less pleasant milestones, such as the anniversary of a day best left forgotten by my family. (Yes, I’m being enigmatic and intend it that way!)

Of course we have lots to remember and celebrate in other months, but March seems to be fuller in that respect, at least to me.

How about you? Do you have a particular month that seems to contain more memorable dates than the rest?

--Linda

Snippets

Today I take a late-afternoon flight to Ft. Myers, Florida. My sister Dolores, her daughter Regina, and my mother all live in a rented house in a gated community down there, and my sister needs a break. So I get nine days of sunshine and a pool, plus a couple of nights out for fresh seafood – all in return for caring for my ninety-year-old-and-still-feisty Mom. Not a bad deal at all.

It’s hard to believe spring is coming in Minnesota in March. We have fresh snow on the ground, and the fact that the chickadees and cardinals have started singing seems like small comfort. So this time in sunny Florida will be very welcome.

Yesterday I drove a little over eighty miles to Colfax, Wisconsin, to see a traveling exhibit on the German POW camps established during World War II – only to find that it was in Colfax on Monday. Worse, it was too late to drive to Black River Falls and catch it there. It’s in Spooner today, too far to drive to see it and get back in time to catch my plane. But the librarian in Colfax said the exhibit didn’t have any German uniforms, and one major goal was to see one, just to see what color it was. There are a lot of photographs of German POWs, but they’re all in black and white. I’m sure there are other places I can find that information, but the exhibit also had other artifacts from the camps, including crafts, and I really wanted to see them, too. It was a sad drive home, let me tell you.

Earlier this week the model of the pattern that will be in the back of Blackwork arrived from Kreinik. It is very exotic and beautiful and features a witch’s hat set in a nest of blackwork. In a day or two visit my web site, Monica-Ferris.com, to see a picture of it, though like a lot of needlework, a photograph hasn’t got the impact of a model.

Just for fun, here are some edgy stitchers with a web site. Apparently they are part of a movement of people who knit and crochet things, like huge jackets for sheds, bands for the trunks and branches of trees, and plastic-bag crochet ornamenting pedestrian crossing: http://www.yarnbombing.com./ The photo is of a black and white striped ornamentation put on a Zebra Crossing marker in England, called that because of the black and white stripes painted on the street. (And pronounced "ZEB-Rah.")

A trip to Crafts Camp

Over the weekend I took my knitting to a local bookstore. I worked on a piece in between customers at my sit-and-sign. I made a few miniature afghans to go with scenes for various charity auctions that are coming up.

It wasn't only because I use every spare minute these days to work on minis or to meet a few dozen other deadlines; I was knitting also to attract attention to my book table.

It worked. People are drawn to crafts, whether it's knitting, scrapbooking, quilting, or any of the other crafts that take needles, yarn, glue, paper, thread ... Even guys are curious when they see someone making something. I always have a scene on the table also, so they can see a finished product. And I always have spare supplies in case I can coax someone into giving it a try.

The great thing about miniatures as a hobby is that it involves so many other crafts, from carpentry to sewing to needlework. If you're a purist you can paint pictures for dollhouse walls, stencil the kitchen cabinets, or work up tiny beaded jewelry.

The miniature community is also multi-talented. I'm a member of a yahoo group called THE CAMP (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/THECAMP/ ) where you can present a problem with a power tool or give a tip on making tiny rose petals. Or just meet other miniaturists.

As soon as it's official, I'll tell you how they named my next book!

Like most crafts, miniatures brings people together.

Of course, in our books, crafts can also kill you. It's the chance you take.

The Wonder of It All--My Agatha Nomination

Weekend before last, I came home from walking the dogs to discover a message on our answering machine. "This is Verena Rose," said the caller. "I'm from the Agatha committee of Malice Domestic. I have some happy news. Please call."

Boy, were my fingers ever trembling as I dialed that number. Malice Domestic may not be everyone's cup of tea, but they are the standard-bearers for the traditional mystery community.

"Joanna, I want to congratulate you and tell you that Paper, Scissors, Death has been nominated by the committee as a Best First Novel," she said.

And then I cried.

You see, I've been attending Malice for three years straight. I started before I sold my first mystery. I kept going even though I didn't have a book in hand. I went because I liked Malice. I liked meeting authors. I liked hearing about their books. And I wondered. I wondered if some day, I'd join their ranks.

Being an author means living on faith. You sit alone with your keyboard and work and create and wonder. You make up stories, so you wonder how much of your own life is real. You wonder if you've picked the right idea. You wonder if you'll ever finish your book. You wonder if your work will be accepted by a publisher. You wonder if you are wasting your time. You wonder if you should be doing laundry. You wonder if your kid will forgive you for running late to pick him up because you were writing and lost track of time. You wonder how understanding your husband will be about you changing careers and going from a nice income to...speculation.

Then you sell your book. And you wait. And you wonder some more. You wonder if anyone besides the publisher will like it. You wonder what your cover will look like. You wonder what they'll name your book. You wonder when it will come out. You wonder when you'll actually be able to hold it in your hands. You wonder if anyone will buy it. You wonder what the reviewers will think.

After all you're just a mom who spends a LOT of time in her basement doing...what? Pecking away at a keyboard? Surely this is NOT what a REAL author does. There's not a jot of glamour. You don't need to put on makeup. You don't even have to change out of your pajamas. Your office companions are your dogs. They can't read. And they like the basement. This is as close to socialization as you get.

You have officially joined the ranks of whackos.

Your friends (who aren't writers) ask, "How is, uh, it coming?" You try to tell them, but you quickly notice how their eyes stop focusing. They nod politely but aren't really listening. One of them asks if you intend to run off copies of this, uh, BOOK? in your basement. You are too stunned to respond.

You grit your teeth a lot. Your dentist suggests a nightguard. Now you are a whacko who wears a mouthpiece like boxers do. When you answer the phone, you must remember to remove it because you slur your words. People are positive you are home drinking.

You wonder if that might be a good idea, actually.

But if you are me, you shrug it off. I shrugged it off because this was/is all I ever wanted to do. This was my fantasy. I've wanted to be a writer ever since I was in grade school!

And oh, how I love these characters. I cry when things happen to Kiki Lowenstein, even though I made them happen to her. I laugh thinking up funny things that can happen to her. One night, when I couldn't sleep, I plotted a scene in my head. I got to laughing while I was lying there in bed. I woke up my husband. He thought I was having a seizure and tried to call 9-1-1.

So, yeah, I've been having fun. But still... a little voice inside me has wondered. I wondered, will anyone else ever care about Kiki? I mean, I thought I wrote a good book. I knew I gave it my best. I rewrote and rewrote and polished it. But...I wondered if I was wrong. I wondered...a lot.

Then I got a call from Verena Rose.

And I cried.

I'll probably still wonder. I'm made that way. But I'll always have that moment, that moment when Verena Rose said, "You know, it's not just me, Joanna. This was a committee of your peers. Other writers. Readers. Mystery fans. They're the ones who chose you."

Maybe now I won't wonder quite so much.