Wild Women

Today I went to a meeting of the WILD Women Book Group at my church. I always thought that was a strange name for a church book group, but I found out just recently that WILD is an acronym that stands for Women in Livestock Development. Wait a minute! These are women in an inner city church. I can almost guarantee that no one has livestock. Turns out they take collection every month to support one of my favorite causes: Heifer International. What that group does is a whole different story, but if you don't know, it's definitely worth finding them through Google or another search engine.
This year the wild women have chosen not the spiritual titles you might expect but mysteries, and today, for their first meeting, they read my Skeleton in a Dead Space. When I asked if my presence would inhibit them, minister Cyndy Twedell who spearheads the group laughed aloud and said, "Not likely." She was right--it didn't.
Cyndy is terrific at leading book discussions--I doubt she'll ever want to leave the ministry, but she could always teach literature and do it well. She focused on asking the ladies to talk about character--in the allotted hour she never got past character to plot because everyone had so much to say. Authors have long said that readers--especially critics and reviewers--find symbolism that the authors never intended. Today it wasn't so much symbolism as qualities in the characters. Kelly was praised for compassion, especially her determination to identify the skeleton and give her the burial and recognition she deserved as a person rather than just let a pile of bones go to an unmarked grave. What I didn't say was that I had to give Kelly a reason for being so determined to solve the mystery of the identity of the skeleton. But maybe authors write symbolism and qualities into works naturally without realizing it. Others said they could picture some of the characters--Keisha, the office manager (one person wanted to know who would play her in the movie) or Anthony, the carpenter whose all bluff but has a soft heart or even Joe, the young wannabe gansta. It was all fun, and I didn't talk much.
My friend Jean was there and was silent the whole hour--she said later it was because it was her first meeting with the group. But when she spoke up, she blew me away. She said, in effect, she was nervous about reading it because when you know someone so well, you want them to do well--and she thought I had. She enjoyed the book. I know she's not a mystery reader, so that was double praise.
There were a lot of references to the second book, No Neighborhood for Old Women, which several had read. Someone would say "Well, Keisha has a bigger role in the second book" or "There's more about  the Guthries in the second book." I bet I sold quite a few of that one today too. What fun!
 

Stuff

A lot of the time when I write to one of my kids, the subject line is stuff, which means it's a mish-mash, and that's what this is. I spent a lazy but productive Saturday--finished the galleys for the third Kelly O'Connell Mystery, Trouble in a Big Box (I simply cannot type that without typing Bix instead of Big!). Did my yoga, feeling more relaxed than usual--I'd just had a good nap and had no rush to be anywhere or do anything--which is usually my feeling when I do yoga. And I cooked--made a tomato/cheddar pie with some difficulty with the crust--still not sure how it will turn out, but the recipe said let it set for 3-4 hours, so I decided to let it set overnight. I'll serve it tomorrow, along with the overnight salad I made just now. And I made myself ham salad for lunch: my new trick is to buy a half-inch thick slice of good ham, whirl it in the blender, add chopped celery and scallions, mustard and mayo. It's lunch for three days at least; then I'll switch to tuna.
Speaking of food, I realized today that not all of you who read my blog are on Facebook and therefore you miss my postings of "Potluck with Judy" when I post on the food blog instead of this one. So I'm starting a new policy: from now on, I'll post on Potluck on Sunday evenings. Maybe that will make me more disciplined--it's been kind of haphazard. Tomorrow's post is already half written--some terrific, easy appetizers. The URL is http://potluckwithjudy.blogspot.com if you want to check it out tomorrow night.
If you're Amazon buyers, here's something you may not realize: if you read a book and like it, it's a big help to the author if you click the "Like" button right by the title. And it's a huge help if you write a short review, just two or three sentences. Yes, this is a plea for reviews for No Neighborhood for Old Women--it hasn't gotten any yet, but many people have told me they like it. I need to share those opinions with the world. I have a dear friend who congratulated me when Skeleton in a Dead Space came out but explained, "You know, I don't read mysteries." For reasons of my own I gave her a copy of No Neighborhood for Old Women, and she tells me she loved it, couldn't wait to get back to it when she had to put it down. She's even speculating on what will happen in the third book and calls herself a "new fan of your mystery-writing." Not everyone is going to be so enthusiastic, so if you found flaws say so, but I'd sure appreciate a few reviews. And remember this when you read books by other authors--heck, even if you didn't buy it on Amazon, you can go on there and click "Like" and leave a review if you feel so inclined.
Every day I learn more and more about the mystery business, but  it's still an uphill climb. Thanks for your help.

The fun of book signings

This has been a weekend of book signings, and it carried over into Monday night. It began with the Mystery Month Event at Barnes & Noble Friday night and carried over into two signings at the Old Neighborhood Grill--a real neighborhood hangout with good food. Saturday morning Jordan and I were there at seven, and several friends were equally prompt, meeting for breakfast and to get signed books. I sold 24 books, which I think is a really respectable number, especially that early in the morning, and beyond that I had a good time visiting with friends. Most people who came to buy a book stayed to eat breakfast.
Not so tonight for another signing, back at the Grill. People who came to buy the book lingered and visited over a glass of wine, which was fun and pleasant. Tonight was not as busy as the Monday night signing for the first book, but I wonder if that isn't usual with the second in a series. People will read it but don't feel as obliged to be in on the "big" event. Several people have said to me that they're liking the second book even better than the first. And tonight I got some "walk up" traffic--people who came to the Grill for supper and stopped to chat. Several bought books, and one went away with a bookmark, saying she'd get it later--maybe she will and maybe she won't. One friend I hadn't seen in a long time said she's heard a lot about this book and wanted her book group to read it--great news!

Both signings were family affairs. Jordan has appointed herself my goodwill ambassador, cashier, and, most recently, publicist, though she did ask "As your publicist, what would I do?" Hmmm. Stumped us both. Jacob was a willing salesman and, if nothing else, charmed people. He tallied a long list of figures that, far as I could tell, had nothing to do with anything and announced I could give him either $1, $100 or $1,000--which would I choose? Hmm, life's hard decisions.
Christian arrived, and we stayed for supper. Even sold a book unexpectedly as we were about to leave.
The third book is written, and I have about 2500 words on the fourth--though it went in a totally unexpected direction this morning. Now what do I do with that, other than bask in the glow of these good signings?

A sudden burst of energy and a fascinating Web site

Does this ever happen to you? You sort of drag your way through a few days and then suddenly you're energized, enthusiastic, back, as my friend Joyce Roach alwys says, "at yourself." I've been lollygagging this week. Oh, I could keep busy with Facebook and emails and Pinterest and odds and ends, like a long discussion with the plumber about why my water bill was so high. But late this morning, I finally turned my attention to the manuscript that's been on my desk since late January, waiting for revision after I got comments from beta reader Fred. And I'm suddenly "back at myself." It's lovely to go back to something written quite a while ago and discover it's not all that bad; in fact, I like parts of it, and Fred's comments are helpful. So I sailed into it.
One thing that helped: I'm a more critical reader these days. As I read more cozy mysteries, I find my taste or instincts improving. Just finished one that I thoroughly enjoyed--the plot was convoluted enough that I was left guessing until the end and the villain turned out to be the last person you'd suspect. Plus the requisite climactic scene was nail-biting indeed. But the heroine--like too many single amateur sleuths, she kept shooting herself in the foot, refusing to trust the guy who is obviously (to the reader) the good guy and crazy about her. Worse, she went lickety-split after the guys she thought were the villains, all but screaming their names from the rooftop--and, indeed, giving them to the police, who nicely ignored her as a nuisance. She was out of control. So there I had a model of what I don't want to do, and I'm re-reading carefully to make sure that Kate doeesn't behave that way.
That's right, Kate, not Kelly. What I'm reading now will come out in January, and I hope it's the first of a new series set in a small-town cafe in East Texas. Anxious as I am to encourage everyone to get to know Kelly O'Connell of Skeleton in a Dead Space and No Neighborhood for Old Women, I'm also immersed in Kate's world--and wondering if Kate and Kely are too close together in sound. I still have time to change Kate's name. I'd love opinions.
Held the first copy of No Neighborhood for Old Women in my hands today--always a thrill, though it looked a bit smaller than I expected. I love the dedication and hope my publishing pals--Gayla, Fran, Kathie, Carol and Melinda--read it. Kathie told me she doesn't read mysteries but maybe she'll read this one with her name on the dedication page--or at least read the dedication page. Gayla and Fran and Melinda are fans of the first book, so they tell me, and I don't know if Carol has read it or not. My busy friends.
I also sent out email invitations today to the two signings at the Old Neighborhood Grill: May 19, Saturday, at 7:00 a.m.--Peter, the owner, says that's when his readers come in. I'll stay as long as people stop to say hello.The second signing, for slugabeds, is at 5:30 Monday May 21, same place--great place to have supper if you're in Fort Worth. I'll post on Facebook soon, but I've already had nice response to my email flyer. Last time I signed at the Grill, it was a great success.
I stambled on a Web site today called The Secret Life of Pronouns. I believe it's a book.

http://secretlifeofpronouns.com/exercises.php. It has fascinating exercises for you to analyze yourself. One is the classic TAT which is supposed to reveal your views about yourself, the world, and relationships, but the one I liked was a Life Survey. About 80 questions but they go fast, and it instantly analyzes how you fit into four categores (I can only remember three because I was like a one in the fourth--I think it was sloth or something). The other three are Suburbanite, Cultural, and Preppie. I arrived pretty much in the middle ground on all three, and at the end was told, "This computer thinks you have a healthy approach to life, but you may try too hard at your yoga." Are you listening, Elizabeth? Check it out--it's fun. One exercise I'll have my class do--writing about an everyday object for five minutes, no longer.

So with this newfound energy, tomorrow I'm back to a world of errands, lunch and dinner engagements, etc., not that I'm complaining about any of that. Oh, and cooking. But once I get going on a major project, like these revisions, I'm usually pretty focused. 

Oh what a wonderful wonderful day

The lyrics to that old gospel song pretty much sum up my feelings about the day. It was the day of my big fundraiser for Lon Burnam--I gave this party only in part because Lon is my friend--more because I think it's important to keep his clear, strong voice in the Texas legislature. Lon's office brought me some Paschal High School mementos for decorations--the selection of a representative for the new ISD district is big news right now--along with much appreciated beer and wine. I fixed most of the food--liver pate, a salmon spread (not the smoky one I usually do but I really liked this and have eaten a lot of it tonight), and a crudities tray that was I thought the peak of my cooking accomplishment for the day--or week. For those with a sweet tooth, I made mini chocolate muffins--I've mentioned this before, but it's the Weight Watchers recipe that calls for a box of cake mix, a can of pumpkin, and a cup of semi-sweet chocolate morsels. I told Jordan a whole cupcake is only one point, and these are tiny. "So I can eat five?" I also made a pound cake and some experimental lemon-basil cookies. I thought they balanced the other things well, but I'm not a fan of lemon desserts and I couldn't taste much basil. Jay and Susan came for leftovers tonight (lots of beer in my fridge right now) and Jay said he could taste the basil. Only things I didn't make: guac and chips, and ranch and roasted tomatillo salsa for the crudities.
And I had my own very special party angel. Jordan whizzed through the house, catching details I had missed or that were more important to her than to me. She kept up with discarded dishes, refilled dishes as necessary, and was charming to everyone. She has a special talent for that.

The event was from two to four, and Lon seemed pleased with it. I was bushed, but Jordan and I got the kitchen cleaned in record time. It worries me a bit that an event like that wears me out--what, me aging! No never! But I figured out it's as I told granddaughter Edie years ago--my feet have grown old, but I haven't. If my feet didn't hurt so badly, I'd have been fine. Tonight I have my energy back--and I only had a brief nap.

I wouldn't overshadow Lon for anything, but my big excitement of the day was the cover to my next Kelly O'Connell Mystery, No Neighborhood for Old Women. My publisher, who did the cover, emailed it today, and I love it. It perfectly matches the cover of the first one, Skeleton in a Dead Space, and you know what they say about branding. Watch for the digital launch April 8 and print editions a couple of weeks later. Now to begin my pre-pub publicity. What fun.

The gift of a day

This morning I worked myself up to go for a long overdue eye examination. I always hate going to the opthalmologist--don't get me wrong.  He's a good guy, a friend of many years. But reading those charts makes me feel like I'm failing a test, and when he tilts me back and uses those prisms to look deep into my eye I hold my breath lest he say, "Omigosh!" or something equally scary. (Actually a previous eye doctor did say, "I don't like what I'm seeing" which I thought was really poor handling of a patient, especially a nervous one, and I never went back to him.). Anyway, today I had gathered my courage and was changing clothes when the doctor's office called to say he was ill and cancelling appointments for the day. So I got a three-week reprieve for which I am only partly grateful--I'd just as soon get it over with. Actually I'd rather go to the dentist.
But there I was with the gift of a day. I worked at my desk all morning and finished final edits on No Neighborhood for Old Women which will be out in April. In the last read-through I found several small inconsistencies and things that needed explaining or clarifying. I'm sure there are more small points and lots of typos--someone pointed out the typos in Skeleton in a Dead Space to me and I replied honestly that there has never been a book published without a typo. But we all keep trying.
I piddled the rest of the day--groomed Sophie with Jacob's not-very-helpful help (she play bites), watered plants inside and out, did a good yoga workout, forced a stubborn Jacob to do his homework ("No,  you're not sick--don't try that"; next minute he was grinning and trying to play a joke on me.). His attention span is still pretty short, and he wants to be outside playing. But it was a lovely day, an unexpected gift.
Betty and I had supper at The Tavern, a great restaurant that I always want to call The Ranch for some reason. We split their huge BLT salad--good, but there are other things on the menu I like better. Like their deviled eggs and their black beans.
Tonight, though I have a list of things to be done, I'm going to start Julie Hyzy's new book, Affairs of Steak, in her series about a White House chef.
Isn't it nice every once in a while to be handed a free day?

Creating a fictional world

When you write anything, everyone has a bit of advice on the way to do it. And of course no two bits agree. I'm definitely finding this in mysteries. Uber agent and legendary writing coach Donald Maas says every sentence, every paragraph, ever page has to vibrate with tension. Others say description slows down the activity, but then some say description creates the world in which the fictional characters operate. As I rewrite these days I'm most aware of description, because I use quite a bit of it--though, I hope, in small bits. It seems to me that Maas' advice holds true for thrillers and suspense novels--traditionally those where danger is present on every page. Often the victim (or stalkee) knows who the villain is, and it comes to a question of who can outlast who and who can trip the other one up. I recently read Mary Higgins Clark's Pretend You Don't See Her  in which the protagonist, witness to murder, is put in the federal witness protection program. She lets a trivial bit of information slip to her mother in the weekly phone call they're allowed, and the mother, interested in her daughter's welfare, buys a newspaper from the city where she now knows her daughter is, then leaves the newspaper on a chair in a restaurant. You got it--word is quickly sent to the hired assassin after her. So the reader is on pins and needles--will he get her or will she escape? (I truly don't think this much info is a spoiler.) I have always joked that I don't want to read Mary Higgins Clark when I'm home alone--well, I do, but they're scary on every page. That's the kind of tension Maas is talking about.
But I'm writing--or trying to write--cozies, a whole different kind of mystery. Cozies usually feature an amateur sleuth--in my case, a real estate agent who is drawn into solving an old murder because she finds a skeleton in a house she's renovating. Neither the protatgonist nor the reader know who the murderer is nor when someone else will fall victim, so there's your suspense (sometimes I think the author doesn't know either!). But the word cozy implies something different from the nail-biting suspense of the thriller. What draws me into the cozies I read is identifying with the protagonist--she (or he, though it's almost always a she) and the world in which she lives and the people around her become real to me, so that while I read I live in that world. And if it's a really good book, I'm reluctant to leave that world when I finish the book. In the mysteries I'm working on now, the world consists of Kelly O'Connell, her two young daughters, her boyfriend, Policemen Mike Shandy, her assistant Keisha, and the landmarks and houses of Fort Worth's Fairmount district. To make all that real to readers, I have to describe. I'm well aware however of the danger--reader boredom--that lurks in pages and pages of narrative desription. The old writer's saw, "Show, don't tell," is ever true, so it's a trick to work in description yet avoid too much narrative voice. Have I succeeded? Only a good editor will know. My mentor says I have. But it's a constant balancing act.
Readers are as different in their tastes as authors are in their creative leanings. Some prefer noir, exporing the dark underside of life; some prefer taut tension; some prefer the world of cozies--the craft group, the bakery or tea room, the flower shop, and, I hope, the real estate/renovation world. All I can do is keep writing and keep querying. I have a query out now on Skeleton in a Dead Space to Turquoise Morning Press, a small press about which I hear very good things, including that they want mysteries. And I'm working on No Neighborhood for Old Women. But soon my conscience will draw me back to a project with a more sure market: that book on chili.
A marketing note: a man named Joel Kirkpatrick has put together an anthology of first chapters of books on Smashwords or Amazon. He calls it the Bestseller Bound (BSB) anthology, and you can find it at http://www.scribd.com/jbkirkpat. The first chapter of my Mattie is in Volume Two. The anthology is a free download, and if you like the opening of Mattie's story,  you can order it, I think from Amazon or Smashwords. It's hard to publicize digital reprints, so Joel's project seems worthwhile and generous of him.