Time is Running Out

I'm going to have to make it short this week. I got Behind the Seams back for revision and about two weeks to do it in. I didn't think it would be a problem as my editor only had a few concerns, so I let it go a couple of days. Then when I began to read the whole thing over, I started to freak out. I wasn't happy with a whole scene and sentences were awkward. It's not changing the plot or anything drastic, but lots of little things. All my plans for going through 50 pages a day went out the window and I spent two days working on five pages.

I have until a week from tomorrow and I have another 200 or so pages to go through. Needless to say, no more two days on five pages.

In the meantime, the moderator for the panel I'm going to be on at Malice Domestic in Washington DC at the end of this month has been communicating about our panel. We're going to be discussing holiday books, which should be interesting. One of the challenges of writing You Better Knot Die was to make it a holiday book, but then be able to sell it all year. One of the things Berkley did was to keep the holiday touches on the bookcover subtle.

And the plans for Printers Row in Chicago the first weekend in June are coming together. I'm going to be in the Mystery Writers of America booth again and on a panel with some of my writer friends Julie Hyzy, Kate Collins and JB Stanley also know as Ellery Adams. You never know what the weather is going to be like. In the three years I've taken part in it, it's been hot and stormy, cold and stormy and just plain chilly. Who knows what it will be this year.

I was so busy this week, I didn't even get back to my last week's blog to comment on Planner's comment. You are right, Planner, I do manage to enjoy most things. I certainly enjoyed the trip to Santa Fe.

That's it, back to my manuscript.

What Readers Want to Know About Dirty Rotten Tendrils

Dirty Rotten Tendrils, the 10th Flower Shop Mystery, hit the bookstores on October 5th. Quite frankly, there are several unanswered questions in this reader’s mind, including, why does florist Abby Knight keep finding corpses? It’s like Grandma always said. “Nice girls don’t associate with dead bodies.”

I couldn’t come straight out and interrogate author Kate Collins; Grandma also claims that direct questions are rude. It did occur to me that Kate’s fellow authors on the Cozy Chicks blog might be forthcoming with details about Abby Knight and Kate Collins if only I asked nicely, so I approached Deb Baker, Maggie Sefton, JB Stanley, Heather Webber, Lorna Barrett, and Leann Sweeney. I began with the most pressing query and phrased it as delicately as possible.

Ten-plus murders! Ten! That’s an awful lot of bodies surrounding florist Abby Knight. And in “Shoots to Kill”, she’s even arrested for murder on page one! She admits to having a short fuse. Is Abby really so unlucky, or is author Kate Collins trying to cover up her protagonist’s nefarious past?

From Leann Sweeney: Unlucky? No. Who wouldn't want a smart, curious, intuitive woman ready to step in and solve a murder? We all have things we like to do besides work at the day job. Like quilting or painting or gardening or catching murderers.

Abby Knight is both a florist and a crusader. Her mother teaches kindergarten and engages in a long list of creative endeavors, such as making designer candy. Are energetic, multi-tasking women like these purely fiction? And what exactly is a Dancing Naked Monkey table, one of Maureen Knight’s many creations?

From Maggie Sefton: Abby Knight delights readers with her creativity, her crusading
spirit, and her tenacity in finding clues and figuring out murders. She
may even take after her energetic, multi-tasking, and creative mother,
Maureen. As for the Dancing Naked Monkey table? Only Maureen really knows.

Abby’s fiancé, ex-Army Ranger Marco is described as tough and sensitive--a man who could cook up an omelet and take down a killer in the same day. The couple has already called it quits once. Any guesses on whether we’ll hear wedding bells in the future?

From Lorna Barrett/Lorraine Bartlett: Does this give you a clue: Dum dum de dum. Dum dum de dum. Dum dum de dum dum de dum dum de dum. (And Abby's had the wedding flowers designed for ages.)

This is just between friends, and I’m not asking because I’m jealous (my thumb is a distinct shade of brown), but is author Kate Collins actually good with plants?
Deb Baker/Hannah Reed: Kate is the queen of green thumbs and can dish dirt better than anyone else! Uh, I mean, mix dirt.

Abby seems a little self-conscious that she flunked out of law school. I’m all too familiar with that feeling of failure. What advice would you give me--I mean Abby--to help her get over her perceived failure?

From JB Stanley/Ellery Adams: I’d tell Abby that when one door closes, another opens. After all, if she hadn’t flunked out of law school, how could she have become the engaging sleuth and skilled florist that we all know and love? Her “failure” has become a source of delight and enjoyment for readers across the globe!

For readers who haven’t enjoyed the Florist Shop Mysteries, can they jump right in with book #10? And what kind of read can they expect?

From Heather Webber: As with all Kate’s books, Dirty Rotten Tendrils is filled with humor, fantastic characters, twisty-turny plots, a bit of romance, and a warmth that’s just Kate’s natural voice. You absolutely don’t have to start at the beginning of the series to enjoy Kate’s books. Jump right in with Dirty Rotten Tendrils, and then once Kate has you hooked (and she will), go back and fall in love with the rest of the Flower Shop Mysteries.

The End of Sweet Week

This week we’re all writing about sweet things.

Thursday night it was almost eight p.m. when I left my yoga class. I stopped at Whole Foods on the way home and as I was getting ready to pull out of the parking lot, I heard a low flying helicopter and a lot of sirens. My first thought was the cops were chasing somebody. For good reason, in the past one of their high speed pursuits had ended right around there. I looked out into the street and after waiting a few breaths and not seeing any flashing lights, finally pulled out. I made it home without incident. More about that later.

Goldy was waiting by the door to remind me that I was late in taking her for her walk. The good part about it being late is there was less traffic to dodge. There aren’t sidewalks for most of the walk, and I feel like some drivers aim at us. The bad part is that there are more night animals to content with. I took her for an extra long walk since it was so late. As we were walking back, I noticed an animal running up the street. I was hoping it was a raccoon. It wasn’t. Just before we were going to turn on our street, I saw the coyote hiding behind some bushes in someone’s front yard. Was it hiding from us, or planning to attack Goldy? I don’t know, but to be on the safe side I picked, Goldy up. She weighs 20 pounds and isn’t that fond of being carried, plus I had my walking stick (for protection, though waving it around didn’t seem to faze the coyote), my little light (the light is supposed to go on Goldy’s collar, but a screw fell out and so I was carrying it instead) and a bag for clean up (luckily empty). Goldy squirmed and squealed and I had to put her down and reposition everything and pick her up again.

My heart was thumping, from carrying her and concern that the coyote was going to start following us. We got around the corner and down the block before Goldy pretty much demanded that I put her down. I kept looking back, but nothing was following us down the street and we made it home unscathed.

When I watched the news later, I found out there was a high speed police pursuit of a woman driving 100 miles an hour and from the description of her route and the timing, I realized she and the cops must have gone by just as I was approaching the parking lot exit. The sweet part is that I missed getting in the middle of it. And it was sweet that Goldy and I got past the coyote without any trouble.

In case you’re interested the woman kept going all the way to the next county, and drove up to a house, got out of the car and ran in. The cops followed her and pulled her out. A news helicopter got it all on film. They think she was under the influence of methamphetamines.

And in a final bit of sweet news, I found out that Kate Collins, my friend whose family tragedy came just when her book Dirty Rotten Tendrils was coming out, made the New York Times Bestseller list for the first time. So sweet that she has a bright spot at such a hard time.

Did you have some happy news or escape something bad?

My Space is Any Place

For anyone tuning in late, this week we’ve been writing about our work spaces. Maybe it is a reaction to my father who seemed to need a special place to write, but I decided I would be able to write anywhere. Or almost anywhere. I tried working on my computer in the car on the way to Vegas and that didn’t work out that well. It’s hard to type when you’re bouncing.

I am in Chicago now and the above is one of the places where I work here. Since I’m here alone, there was no one to take a picture of me with my computer, so the doll graciously agreed to stand in. I’m not sure of the quality of the photo either. I forgot my camera and had to use my BlackBerry.

Note the coffee cup. It’s porcelain, not paper and my favorite. The tangle of stuff on the other side is my local yarn stash. You probably can’t see them, but there are also menus for local restaurants and a phone to call in my order. Behind me on the bookcase are crocheted nursery rhyme characters. Little Boo Peep is there, along with her sheep and Humpty Dumpty, unless he fell down. I wish I could say I made them. My mother got them at various holiday bazaars.

The red chair is in perfect condition despite being a hand me down from one of our neighbor’s office in the 60s. He was the photographer for the Museum of Science & Industry (that’s where his office was). He did some other photography work too, and he sometimes used me as a model. Not a fashion model, more like pretending to be a kid being helped by a social worker. One time I had to sit at the soda fountain and eat a hot fudge sundae at the drugstore across the street. I’m not sure what that was for. It was also thanks to him that I got to go behind the scenes at the museum. Somewhere there’s a pictures of me holding a rabbit, standing on the inside of the fence at the farm exhibit.

I guess collecting dolls is in my genes. The doll model was my mother’s. It’s hand made and one of a kind, though I guess that’s pretty obvious. She’s so big, she has real little girl shoes on. There are other dolls all over the place including an old one of mine. My mother told me she had real hair. I thought that meant it would grow and gave her a hair cut.

But when I’m working – I’m here to finish my overdue book – everything fades in the background and I could be floating in a fog. That’s why I don’t worry if there are windows or birds chirping and trucks rumbling down the street and shaking everything. When I stop working, I feel like I need to rub my eyes and remind myself of where I am.

Do you find that you get lost in your work or a TV show or movie and forget about where you are?

Lastly, one of my friends, Kate Collins, had a family tragedy last week. She writes the Flower Shop Mystery Series and her next book, Dirty Rotten Tendrils, comes out on Tuesday. Some of her friends are trying to help promote her book. I decided to have a contest and the prize is a copy of Dirty Rotten Tendrils. So, leave a comment before 11:59 p.m. Saturday and I’ll do the whole thing with folded up papers and my husband randomly picking one of the entries. I will announce the winner next Saturday. Check out the book. If you like cozies and flowers, I’m sure you’ll love the it.

The Last Bouchercon Story

It’s been a week of Bouchercon stories. My trip was a little longer. I spent a few days before and after in Chicago. When I finally got home, I awoke in the middle of the night and thought I was in a hotel somewhere and was worried about check out time. What a relief to realize I was in my own bed.

Like Monica, I was worried no one would show up for my crochet project in he craft room, or if they did, I wouldn’t know how to teach them. I’m glad to say I was wrong on both counts. There was a nice turn out and I was able to help those that needed it. Then just like any group of crocheters, we sat around and talked while we worked. I certainly enjoyed it.

I went to one of the other craft room events, as well. Sally Goldenbaum had a knit a square to send to South Africa project. I quickly realized I’d forgotten how to cast on, but Sally showed me a new way and I was able to get started.

It’s very humbling to try something you’re not good at. I can fly with a hook, but I stumble with needles. Everyone else was making fancy variations to their square, while I kept taking out mine and starting again. When I finally got going on it, I realized I didn’t know how to end it. The only knit project I completed was a coin purse that kept decreasing until you had just one stitch. It ended just like crochet, by pulling the yarn through.

Sally showed me how to cast off, but the lesson went out of my head as soon as left the room. I ended up finishing it while in Chicago where I had a book on knitting that explained how to do it. I sent my not quite square square to Sally. I hope good intentions count for something, because my lopsided square is full of them. It’s a happy thought that it will become a part of a blanket for scarf to keep someone warm on the other side of the globe.

Since my deadline is looming, I spent a good deal of Bouchercon writing. I had left my computer in Chicago, so it was all yellow pad and pen, but I wrote 30 pages.

My favorite part of Bouchercon was meeting all the people. Even with the cold drizzle, I enjoyed talking to Camille and Ann Parker on our way back from the Etlejorg museum. I pushed myself to circulate at the Berkley party and was surprised at how many people I knew. Afterwards, Maggie Sefton, Sheila Connolly, Kate Collins, Kate Carlisle, Darryl Wood Gerber and I went to the revolving restaurant on top of the hotel and had a fun dinner. We stayed long enough to make two complete revolutions.

There was breakfast with Sandy Harding, who I would like even if she weren’t my editor. I met James Scott Bell in the elevator who it turns out to lives in a nearby San Fernando Valley community. I rode to the airport with Mike Befeler who I seem to run into everywhere. Last time was at Left Coast in Hawaii. I introduced myself to Charlaine Harris and told her how much I enjoyed her panel. Everywhere I went, I found people I liked, to talk to. Mystery writers and fans are the best.

I felt like the ugly ducking who’d finally found the swans.