The Heroic Amateur Detective

It's a given among mystery writers that editors and readers alike want strong female central characters. They can have a few flaws (probably should have), but they are intelligent, resourceful, brave, friends with the world, etc. They never do dumb things or act ditsy, like a dumb blonde. One blog says they may or may not have a romantic relationship. Whoa! Hold on a minute. It's dawned on me (I think I'm slow to pick up on this) that many of the protagonists in the cozies I read are not only unattached, but they're unhappy about it. They've recently been dumped by the love of their lives, or they never have found the right man. And often they're prickly about it, not trusting any men, not fixing themselves up, mulling over their empty lives and problems. Sometimes when they develop a relationship, they shoot themselves in the foot with suspicion, etc., to the point that I want to reach into the pages and shake them. Sure, it's a way to add complication to a plot--and, believe me, I understand that need, but it's frustrating for the reader. After reading three books in a row with this kind of heroine, I sort of breathed a sigh of relief that in my never-published series (about which I'm always hopeful and so is my new agent) I created a heroine with a pretty good relationship--in fact, in book two I let them live together, and in book three they'll get married (unless tragedy intervenes, which it well might--plot you know!). But then it occurred to me that in the new series I'm starting, I'm falling into the same trap--a young woman who deserts the bar-scene life in Dallas, after her lover deserts her, and flees to her small hometown in East Texas. Hmmmm. I'll have to think about taking it out of the formula.
Today was my day for ethnic food. Last night I mentioned to my neighbors that I really like the roast chicken sandwich at Carshon's, the local deli. Sue said whenever she ate there, she wanted ethnic food. We were then ejoying the best corned beef ever, sent by Jamie from the Carnegie Deli in New York City. Today I had lunch at Carshon's and had pickled herring--for the first time in my memory it came with rye toast and cream cheese, and to my surprise it made a great sandwich. The cream cheese softened the harsh taste of the herring--and much as I love it, I do admit it sometimes makes you pucker. So tonight I came home and had more corned beef for supper. It is absolutely the best--lean, tender, flavorful. I may be spoiled to any other kind.
My neighbor Jay (the handsome one:-) says he reads my blog only to find out what I cooked for dinner the night before.
Colin and his family are coming up this weekend, which means another lunch at Carshon's--he won't come to Fort Worth unless he can eat there.