Showing posts with label mysteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mysteries. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2012

New Year/New Changes

As many of you know, I'm making changes. My last post on this blog will be January 6, 2013. I hope you'll plan to come and visit here on that date as I'll be giving away copies of books.

From then on, I'll be posting regularly on my personal blog http://joannaslan.blogspot.com

Why should you join me on my personal blog? Well, that's where I'll share news about the contract I'm signing for a brand new series! Here's what I can share: It's a three-book contract for a mystery series featuring a spunky female protagonist and there'll be a whole lot of crafting involved in this cozy.

As time goes on, I'll also tell you what's next for Kiki Lowenstein. And I'll continue to share my love of crafting, which isn't confined to scrapbooking. More and more, I'm interested in drawing, painting, and other papercrafts.

Over the past few days, I've taken a bit of a vacation. I've been exercising my creativity in a new way by following some of the suggestions in Drawing and Painting Imaginary Animals: A Mixed-Media Workshop with Carla Sonheim. I believe the brain is a muscle. By exercising it, by stretching it in different directions, it grows. So above is my first attempt at an imaginary beast. To Sonheim's instructions, I added several Zentangle designs. 

My idea of a vacation is a time when I can read a lot. I've finished Manhunt by Peter Bergen (about the search for bin Laden), Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo (about the slums of Mumbai), and now I'm reading Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel (about Thomas Cromwell and his relationship to Henry VIII).

I'm looking forward to 2013. It's going to be a good year. I hope you'll continue my journey with me!

PS The clicker tells me that this is our 1952 blog post! Wow!

Saturday, May 8, 2010

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)


"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part VI: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Molly Pink.



Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind. She saw an angry fan named Sondra Echols approach and threaten Carolina. Betsy Devonshire explains the situation is even more complicated than the seven crafters thought. With a little prodding from Betsy, Jane Kuhn reluctantly admits that she might lose an important contract with the Embroiderer's Guild of America if her financial problems with Carolina aren't resolved. Kendra Ballantyne agrees with Betsy. As an attorney, Kendra believes Jane Kuhn's problems with Carolina's expense reports are the best motive for murder so far. Just when the situation couldn't get any more confusing, Rocky Winchester admits she, too, had acrimonious dealings with the craft diva. But Rocky claims she didn't kill Carolina, and now Molly Pink steps forward with a solution to the crime.


By Betty Hechtman
 

“Molly, you’ve got to see these,” my friend Dinah Lyons called. When I turned toward her voice, she was standing in front of a booth called The Yarn Boutique, holding up a handful of glittery crochet hooks.

“I can’t. I have to find Carolina Pettijohn now. Once she gets involved with signing her books, I won’t get a chance to talk to her.” As event coordinator for Shedd & Royal Books and More it was my job to set up author events. As soon as I heard Carolina was going to be traveling to the West Coast next month, I wanted to set something up with her. It would be a win-win. Carolina Pettijohn would sell a lot of books and we’d have a wonderful event. I’d already started to plan on some kind of “make and take” from her book. No need to mention to Carolina that many of the events I put on ended up with an interesting twist. Surely there was at least one project in her book that was disaster proof.

I gave the area the once-over again, and still there was no sign of Ms. Pettijohn. Too late I realized I should have gone up to her when I’d seen her before, even if it had meant interrupting. She’d always been surrounded by a bunch of people. I joined Dinah at the yarn booth. The woman behind the counter handed Dinah one of the gold flecked hooks and some yarn and urged us to try it, explaining they were turbo hooks and guaranteed to make our crocheting go faster.

With yarn and hooks in our hands, it was easy to lose track of time. When I glanced at my watch I didn’t mean to, but I shrieked out loud and dropped the hook and yarn. I stepped back in the aisle and started craning my neck. Where could Carolina be?

Dinah joined me and handed me a bag with a bunch of yarn and several of the turbo hooks. “My treat. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way to St. Louis with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate your coming to my niece's wedding with me.”

“Glad to do it. The wedding was lovely, and we were so lucky she scheduled it the same weekend as the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza,” I said.

“You’ll find her,” Dinah said in a reassuring voice as I looked around. “Carolina has to be around here somewhere. In the meantime, I need a coffee.” She pointed toward a cafĂ© set up in corner of the hall. “We can watch for her from one of the tables. She’s bound to go by.”

A few minutes later I set my red-eye on one of the small round tables and pulled up a chair. “Great that they have espresso drinks,” Dinah said, drinking through the foam on her cappuccino. I nodded and took a welcome sip of my coffee with a shot of espresso.

“There’s Kendra,” Dinah said as our fellow Angeleno went by. I had met Kendra Ballantyne a while back when she came into the bookstore. We had continued the friendship online. It turned out we had a lot in common – we were both surrounded with animals and both seemed to be murder magnets. As soon as Kendra saw me waving, she came over to the table.

“Have you seen that Pettijohn woman?” I said as Dinah pulled out a chair for Kendra. Her adorable dog Lexie settled under the table. I was pleased to see that Lexie was wearing the cute blue vest I'd made for her last spring. Kendra had told me she was decidedly “uncrafty,” but I saw no reason to let Lexie go without. When Kendra received the vest in the mail, she'd called me first thing to say thanks. I was pretty sure my efforts had sealed our friendship. It's always been my experience that handmade gifts are the best gifts of all.

Kendra looked over the crowd and shrugged. “I saw her a while ago. I know she’s supposed to be signing books soon. Maybe Kiki Lowenstein knows. I think she was acting as her escort.”

While I had read about Kiki Lowenstein in the article about amateur sleuths in Mystery! Magazine, I’d never met her or Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, or April Buchert, who had been featured in the story as well. At least, I'd never met them in person. We’d all chatted online. That was another reason I was so excited about traveling with Dinah to St. Louis. This was the perfect opportunity to put real people with online names. And of course, the other women were just as eager to meet me. I’d been mentioned in the article on amateur sleuths, too. We were all a bit proud of our crime solving abilities, and with good reason.

I recognized the woman in the aqua sweater from the photo that had accompanied the article. After introductions and some mutual admiration, I asked Kiki about the craft queen. Kendra and Dinah expressed their interest, too.

Kiki seemed distraught. “I don’t know what happened to her. I was taking her around the fair floor and all of sudden she just wasn’t there. I thought she might have gone to the rest room, but she never came back.”

A plain woman with thick glasses and a disgruntled expression marched past the table. Kiki grabbed the woman's arm to stop her and her tote bag overflowing with samples and brochures swung against the table with a loud thwack. Kiki introduced Rosie Jackson, Carolina’s creative assistant. When I asked Rosie if she knew where her boss was, she muttered something under her breath. I didn’t hear, but Dinah was sure she said something like “in hell where she belongs.” Kendra offered Rosie a chair, but the other woman begged off.

Rosie started to walk away, then paused, turned and came back to us. “If you really want to find her, I suggest you look in the bar. It’s happy hour, after all.”

“Oh, doggies,” said Kiki. “That doesn't sound good. Poor Jane Kuhn set up this whole convention. I happen to know Carolina agreed to a book signing later this evening. I hope she's sober enough not to make a mess of things.”

I nodded. I had a lot of experience with book signings. Drunk authors are not good for business.

Rosie had barely gone from sight when another woman ran up to our table and interrupted. “Aren’t you Kiki Lowenstein? I recognize your photo from the local paper. I’m Doris Handly. Do you know where Carolina is?”

“Um, no Doris, I don’t.” Poor Kiki turned red. She didn't want to say we'd heard Carolina was in the bar, and I couldn't blame her. After all, Kiki was friends with the organizer. Still, there was no reason I couldn't plant the seed without making an accusation. “You might check in several places. There's a green room behind the back wall. There's also a bar up by the registration table.”

Dinah complimented Doris on her knit shawl and asked to have a closer look. The woman brightened at the compliment and lifted her hair off the collar of her turtleneck and turned model fashion so Dinah could take in the whole thing.
I was still worried about catching up with Carolina. In fact, I was getting more worried each time I looked at my watch.

“Maybe Sondra Echols knows where Carolina is,” Kiki said gesturing toward a woman passing by. “Sondra? Sondra?”

At first the woman seemed to ignore Kiki, but finally, she turned around and came over to the table. Kiki introduced Sondra and explained that she was a customer at her scrapbooking store. Sondra wasn’t any more help than the others. She appeared to have done a lot of shopping at the fair. Her tote bag bulged and Carolina’s book was sticking out of the top. “Consider yourself lucky for not running into her,” Sondra said, looking at me. “I spent my afternoon doing a collage rather than run into her again. That woman was a real you-know-what. By the way, do either of you know where the lost and found is?”

Kiki explained that one of the volunteers at the registration table would probably know. “What did you lose?”

“A pin,” said Sondra. “It was a gift from my knitting club, and I hate to think it’s gone. Speaking of which,” Sondra pulled one of Carolina’s books out of her tote bag and dropped it into the trash. “I don’t know why I’m lugging this around. It's just garbage.”

“Gee,” said Kiki, reaching in and retrieving the book after Sondra left. “Do any of you want it? If not, I'm going to grab it and recycle it. I could take the book back to the store and turn it into a piece of altered art.”

Kendra laughed. “Sounds like exactly what a lot of people would like to do with Carolina!”

At that moment, Jane Kuhn raced up to our table. I’d talked to her earlier when Dinah and I registered. Jane had looked strained then, but nothing compared to now. No doubt being the organizer of this event had gotten to her. She apologized to Dinah, then pulled Kendra, Kiki and me aside. “Ladies, I have a problem and I need your help.”

The urgent tone in her voice kept us from asking more questions on the spot. Instead, we followed her to the edge of the vendor area. A group of woman were standing near a door marked Staff Only. When Kendra, Kiki and I got closer, I recognized the rest of our group from the photo in the amateur sleuth article. How nice to finally meet Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Rocky Winchester and April Buchert!

“This is great,” I said. “Dinah and I were hoping all of us could have dinner together. I’ll go get her.”

“Please,” said Jane. “Please, you can't go anywhere. Not yet. You have to help me!”

“With what?” asked Kiki. “Can't it wait until after dinner?”

That's when Jane begged us to practice our considerable skills as amateur sleuths!


Tomorrow: Join us for the exciting conclusion to "A Crafty Kind of Murder."

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

It's for the Birds

You just never know where your next story idea is going to come from. One evening a week, I drive for a local volunteer group called Wildlife Rehab and Release (WRR). Tuesday is my day and I was advised that I had to deliver two baby squirrels to an address in Minneapolis. This is still April, so I expected to find two naked, blind creatures cuddled next to a latex glove filled with warm water in a plastic ice cream bucket. I opened the bucket to check on the creatures and one immediately tried to climb up my arm – she was about half grown, with big open eyes and a determined look on her face. It seems she had somehow got a piece of string or fishing line around one hind leg and it cut off the circulation to the point where gangrene set in. The leg from the hock down had to be amputated. But the creature is otherwise healthy and seems to get around quite well. If it turns out she cannot move swiftly enough to be released, they are going to try to find a place for her in an educational program – she loves people and is fearless around them. Her companion is more like a proper wild squirrel, shy and suspicious. I only got a glimpse of her trying to hide under a piece of towling. That one’s only problem was being washed out of her nest in a thunderstorm. A couple of weeks in protective custody is all she (he?) needs.

Anyway, the rehabber I took her to was in a mood to talk, so we gabbed for awhile. Elyn used to rehab birds and for awhile her house was full of – what’s the word? It means parrots and their kin and cousins. She also had some of her own, and was recently asked to take back a cockatiel she used to baby-sit for over a dozen years ago. The man who owned it has had to move into an assisted-living complex and is unable to care for the bird anymore. Elyn had another bird in the house at the same time, but for just a few months. It was named Cooler (an unusual name) and its owner had taught it to shout, “Hi, Cooler! Hi, Cooler.” Now, to Elyn’s amazement, the cockatiel has started shouting, “Hi, Cooler! Hi, Cooler!” She’s not sure if the bird is remembering the house or Elyn. It can’t be seeing Cooler and remembering him; Cooler died long ago. I’m sure there’s a mystery story in there somewhere. The problem would be making it believable. Maybe it’s just a nice story to be written for one of the bird magazines.

This past weekend we were in Little Falls, MN, at an event called an “author’s tea.” Held two or three times a year, it’s a collaboration among a tea shop (Ambience), a bookstore (Bookin’ It) and a city landmark called Linden Hills, which is a park and two big old mansions (built around 1900). There are endless bedrooms on the second and third floors, several porches, and the woodwork is gorgeous – one mansion was built by the Weyerhauser family. You can rent a room in either mansion for the night and have a continental breakfast the next morning. At the tea, a catering company serves a salad, a soup, and then little sandwiches and crackers with interesting spreads on them. And people come around with different kinds of tea throughout the meal. Books are sold in the living room and the author is invited to speak briefly (but loudly, as guests are in three adjoining rooms). Most of the women attending wore hats, some even wore gloves. The Mississippi River flows by within sight of the mansions, and a bald eagle and a pair of ospreys were in nearby trees. It was lovely!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Creative Writing Class

Thursday morning I am going to speak to a sixth-grade class at a local school. The teacher is a good friend, and I have spoken to her classes before. She brings her students’ stories to me for comment. She is very aggressive on teaching writing, and the children consistently amaze me with their creativity and talent. Some of the current crop, in my opinion, would make fine writers.

The secret to getting them willing to do the work is to get them excited. Mrs. Smith is great at this, and she gets me excited about teaching them about writing mystery stories. I’m sure most of you can remember being dismayed at some of the writing assignments you were given in grade school. Even “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” took far fewer words than the teacher required. So getting to write about a burglar or a bank robber or a kidnapper or even a murderer is really exciting for them.

I have a game I play with beginners, a “teach by doing” exercise that gives the children some insight into plotting. It’s not hard, it’s fun, and I invite any of you reading this to try it.

For a handout for this class, go to my web site: Monica-Ferris.com and click on Resources. You will find a set of instructions on how to write a play-fair mystery. You can use it “as is,” or you can re-work it to make it shorter.

The students should be at least in fourth grade. Fifth and sixth graders are the best and most fun, in my never-humble opinion. They are literate and creative, an explosive combination.

They should have done some reading of mysteries before the class. Ask them about their reading. What stories did they like? Were any of them able to guess the solution before the end? Talk about crime: what is a crime? Name some crimes? (theft, robbery, burglary, kidnapping, murder, fraud, etc.)

Talk about “collaborations,” how two or more people can work together on a story. It can be difficult, say, but the story is often richer because many brains contributed. Tell them we are going to collaborate on a story.

Tell them that often a news report or a joke or an overheard conversation will give a writer an idea for a story. Offer an illustration: I once read an article about people who spin the hair they get from brushing their dogs or cats into yarn, and knit hats or scarves from it. I have a friend who is violently allergic to cats. I wrote a short story about a woman who murders her rich uncle by knitting him a sweater. She didn’t get away with it because I also read an article about how the medical examiner has a chart with photographs of all different kinds of hair under a microscope. Sheep’s wool does not look at all like cat hair.

If there is time, let the children brainstorm about various “what if’s.” But then say there isn’t time to really decide, so you have an idea you’d like to try out for them. Say a big, important rule of writing is “write what you know,” and since about the only thing every member of the class has in common is this classroom, you will use it for your setting. Define “setting:” where the story takes place.
Say, What If your teacher had a friend who worked at the zoo, or at The Children’s Theater, or at the locomotive museum, or some other really interesting place. And What If your teacher had lunch with this friend right around Halloween or maybe near Christmas, and this friend said to your teacher, “Our tiger is going to have cubs in the spring, how would you like to bring your class out to see them? I can arrange for the kids to stroke a baby tiger!” Or come to the backstage of The Children’s Theater and see the props and costumes and try on makeup. Or take a ride in a steam locomotive.

Let the children vote on which of these (or some other attraction) they would most like to see.

Then say, Great! So your teacher comes back from lunch, and she’s so excited she tells her class about it right away, and they get all excited, too!

She goes to the principal and says she’ll need a bus to take the class on this special field trip. But the principal says, “Did you put this in the budget?” And your teacher has to say she didn’t, because she didn’t know about it. And the principal, who perhaps doesn’t like your teacher, says, “Well, that’s too bad. I guess you can’t go.”

But your teacher is determined not to disappoint her students. She goes to the cafeteria and she gets this great big empty mayonaise jar.

(Ask the teacher how much it costs to rent a bus.)

She says to the children, We’ll just raise that money ourselves!

And they do. They rake leaves and they shovel snow and they sell cookies and they collect aluminum cans and they baby sit.

And they bring the money they earn in, and the teacher puts it into the big mayonaise jar.

But she makes a serious mistake. She keeps the jar in the classroom. She wants the children to see the jar get filled, but it's not a good idea to keep a lot of money where strangers can see it.

Well, time is rushing by, and it’s almost time for the trip – and there is almost enough money. But there is not one unraked leaf or unshoveled sidewalk or loose aluminum can in the whole county!

But Jody comes in Monday morning with a whole dollar for the jar. He found a lost puppy and returned it to its owner. Everyone cheers! The teacher gets the jar out: AND IT’S EMPTY.

Someone has stolen the money.

“Awwwwwww!” should be the children’s response.

But now, you say, is the time to write the mystery. And you write a mystery by figuring out the end first! So we must answer these questions: Who stole the money? How was it stolen? When was it stolen? Why was it stolen?

One immediate suspect the children will offer: The janitor. He works alone, at night, and he has keys to all the classrooms.

You might note that I once offered this puzzle to a police investigator who said the amount stolen was not enough to bring a real police detective to the scene. He said a patrol officer might tell the principal to look at his list of employees and a name would jump out at him. You might tell the class this, and use it in the following manner: Suppose there is a janitor working in the school who is on parole for theft. It was a stupid mistake and the janitor is very sorry about it. But he is a person with a key to every classroom, and he is there when no one else is around, and he was once a thief. So when "janitor" is suggested, leap on this with enthusiasm – then say, “But isn't that too easy? How about he didn't do it? In fact, how about somebody in the class was supposed to take the hamster (plant, turtle, whatever) home during spring break – but forgot about it. And she (he) was just sick and sorry and scared until school started up again – and found out the janitor did it for her! And maybe another student was getting bullied on the playground and the janitor came over and broke it up. Or maybe the janitor is a cousin of one of the students, and the student knows the janitor is a good person. So let’s say the principal picks the janitor out of the list of employees, calls him in and demands the money back. The janitor doesn’t have it, of course. And he gets fired.”

Now, you see how beautiful this is? You have one or more students in this classroom with a powerful motive to find out who really stole the money. Student or students as sleuth! A believable motive to snoop and the necessity as well, because the powers-that-be are sure they’ve solved it, and are no longer interested in an investigation.

Other possible suspects: The principal, a rival teacher, two or more students in the class.

Let the children figure out how the thief got into the classroom (use the actual classroom). Where was the jar kept? Who has keys? Are the windows locked? Are there students in the building after school hours?

I like to force in as a suspect a student whose behavior was so awful all year long that finally the teacher said, “All right, just for that, you’re not going on the trip!” And the student thinks that if he’s not going, no one’s going. You kind of have to wrangle that one so it’s at least halfway to being the students’ idea. The others come naturally – the poor student who wants whatever is hot that season (shoes, game, bike, skateboard); the principal, already set up as a pain; and hey, maybe the janitor really did do it.

And now you have to come up with the clues that point to the culprit. (One delightful clue a student came up with: the thief jingled as he tried to walk out of the school with his trouser legs full of loose change!) Whoever took the money should not have spent it yet, so the ending is that they get it back and can go on their trip.

I apologize for the length of this thing, but I hope it’s helpful. And it’s fun to watch the kids get excited. But what’s really, really special is when a child says thoughtfully, “You know, if it say it this way, the readers will think that way about it.” There, right in front of you, an author is born!