I finished Necessary as Blood, the latest of Deborah Crombie's Scotland Yard mysteries, and enjoyed it as much as I have the other twelve in the series. One of the things stressed on various Sisters in Crime lists is the need to create compelling characters that the reader will care about, and Crombie has achieved that with Duncan Kincaid and Gemma James. By now, they are old friends, and I am delighted to be back in their world. The mystery itself was intricate, and I sometime want to ask her about how she plots--I'm not sure I would have been able to think of all the tangles, though the book did end with the unsavory revelation of a child prostitution ring--something some authors and some readers won't touch. It was tastefully done, but still broke your heart a bit. I find I read more critically these days--watching for the motive behind various plot turns, the reason a certain person turns up at the right time. In this book I was particularly aware that Crombie devotes pages and pages to description, something the Guppies advise against because it slows down a story. In Crombie's case, that careful description transports us to the London of Duncan and Gemma--though I would never be able to figure out the various parts of town and all the routes of the A-1 and whatever. I heard Crombie speak last Friday night, informally, to a small group, and when asked if she would ever write about Texas--her uncle was a famous Texas historian--she said no, she's too fascinated with England. Her fascination has served her well, and I can't wait for book #14, even though #13 is barely into print.
Jamie once said, "Mom writes historical fiction because she's so [adjective deleted] poor at plotting." Well, Jeannie found me the book that's the answer to that. She was in California, where her aunt had just died, sorting out the aunt's belongings and came across a book called Plotto. It was published in 1928 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but on the endpapers is written "Bayless/1937." Jeannie is sure that was her grandmother and that the book belonged to her. The grandmother held a masters in English and was a teacher, so we surmise she may have used it in class. But it's a wonderful wealth of ideas, offering plot ideas and then various scenarios for working them out. For innstance, one plot is "Suffering an Estrangement due to Mistaken Judgment" and the only scenario offered reads, "A believes that his sweetheart, B, is dead; and B, at a distance, learns of this mistaken belief on A's part." Doesn't tell how it works out--had he married someone else? I guess you're free to let your imagination roam. Each of these cryptic entries has a number which refers to another entry--this one first refers to #49, which simply suggests thata A and B meet with a tragic misfortune but escape death. Then it refers to 162A, which suggests B is in love with A but uncertain of A's affections, and 357, which suggests that B, knowing that her sweetheart A believes her to have perished in a tragic accident discovers by secret enterprise (82a,) (87) that A has remained loyal to her (497 ch "wife" to "sweetheart"); she reveals her identity and they marry (442) (515). Lots of romance here, and following the cross references could get a bit complicated, but this book will go among my treasures. It truly is a wonderful find. My thanks to Jeannie for not pitching it in the pile to be given away and for giving me what appears to be a family heirloom. I'll treasure it all the more knowing the bacground.
Although I've been immersed in books, I haven't been ignoring food, another big part of this blog. Had a tongue sandwich yesterday for lunch--I love them, but boy do they add up the points. Last night Betty and I went, again, to Lobsterama and had the whole lobster. Strangely enough that doesn't add many points, because you don't get that much meat--but oh that claw meat is sweet and good. Sure, I dip it in butter,but I bet in the whole thing you don't actually consume two tsp. of butter. Today I had Mexican food for lunch at a place Jeannie and Jean love--I thought the tostada plate would be best--all thlettuce and tomato and none of the grease of enchiladas. But it had refried beans, taco meat, and cheese, and I ate some of the side of beans plus a small side of guacamole, and the whole thing added up--sure was good. The restaurant is in a free-standing building at the back of a broken-up driveway in one of the barrios in Fort Worth--not prepossessing at all, but it has been a Fort Worth favorite for years and years. The owner is getting older and closed because of ill health; then she re-opened, then closed to retire; a barbecue place was going in, but now she's back, though her nephew is going to take it over and serve her recipes along with barbecue. It's a neat place--lots of people don't know about it but I almost always see someone I know there. Tonight I had to counter that Mexican food so had my standby of tuna, hearts of palm and tomatoes. Now if I could only stay away from the chocolate.
A special moment tonight: Jacob wanted his jammies on very early, even though he wasn't spending the night. So when he was standing on the bed, so I could pull the bottoms up, he suddenly threw his arms around me and said, "Juju, I love you!" You can't trade for moments like that. He arrived crying, miserable, not wanting anything to do with anybody or anything. I said, "Jacob, when you're through crying, come tell me," and he sobbed, "I don't want to do that." After his parents were gone, I left him alone by the TV with his milk and pretty soon he came to the study looking for me for comfort--just stood as close to me as he could get for several minutes and then we went off to cuddle on his daybed. Ended up having a lovely evening.
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