Elena Santangelo

Mouse Turds on the Cheese

2012-01-31T08:25:00.000-05:00

(and Other Disgusting Historical Details)

I'VE spent the last two weeks in the 17th century.

My Possessed Mysteries are half historical, with a different era in each novel. That means starting historical research from scratch with each new project. Until I understand the world in which my period characters lived, I can't begin writing.

Think of it this way, human beings make lists. When we wake in the morning, we have in our minds what has to be done that day. Fridge getting a bit barren? Grocery shopping. Last pair of clean undies? Laundry. Car has less than a quarter tank? Get gas. And maybe a hope for something enjoyable when work is done--a nice meal, a walk, a movie, a good book.

Before my historical narrators open their mouths to speak, I need to know what kind of lists they wake up with. I've realized that, until now, most of my main historic characters have lived in circumstances where they depend on others to provide for them or at least, tell them where they need to be each day. For instance, in BY BLOOD POSSESSED, my protagonist is in the Confederate Army. Being a pawn moved around a battlefield, the character can't plan for food and clothing, and needs be alert and resourceful in supplementing the meager army supplies. Which leaves the mind more free time to plot revenge.

For the fifth book, though, I'm picturing a woman living on a farm along the Chesapeake around the year 1700. What she did and didn't accomplish each day might determine in part whether or not residents of the farm survived. Her head would be filled with chores that needed to be done: daily chores like mucking out animal pens and milking cows, weekly chores like making bread, and seasonal chores like sowing the garden. Sure, I've done living history and I plant my own garden each year, but there are so many details, like butter making, that are completely foreign to my experience. And frankly, I'm having trouble getting into the head of someone who has to be that organized simply to stay alive.

So this past week, besides reading up on recipes and clothes and diaries of the period, I watched a 12 part BBC series called Tales from the Green Valley. Five historians lived on a 17th century farm on the Welsh border for a year, running it as it would have been run in 1628. This was an excellent series, filling in many of the details necessary for writing historic fiction (some of them truly gross--for example, using fermented urine as a stain remover). I highly recommend this documentary to anyone who likes history.

I now have 30 pages of notes and more questions to look up, but a believable character is emerging at last, along with the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of the period.

Peace,
Elena

Historical Eating

2012-01-20T11:14:00.000-05:00

My Possessed mystery novels are half-historical, and feature a present-day heroine, Pat Montella, whose chief hobby is cooking. It stands to reason that Pat would eventually become fascinated with historical recipes, and that I'd have to delve more into that branch of research for each book.

In POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, Pat learns what goes into elaborate 18th century dinner parties. You have to love an era that believed in two dessert courses. Research for this involved not only studying colonial cookbooks and experimenting with recipes, but eating out at Philadelphia's City Tavern and all of Historic Williamsburg's taverns. One must suffer for one's art.

But it's not all fancy viands. Pat's latest adventure, FEAR ITSELF, takes place partially in 1933. I had to research what immigrant Italian families on the poor side of town ate in the midst of the Great Depression. My parents were my main resources here.

My dad and his brothers' did odd jobs for the macaroni factory down the street and were paid in pasta and Parmesan. Not having meat, their mother varied her tomato sauce each night--sometimes adding onions or lentils or peas, or whatever beans were on sale that week. Once in a while his dad would bring home a chicken for Sunday dinner. One chicken to feed a family of 10.

My mom's family was smaller--only 5--but also poorer. My grandmother would scramble an egg or two in tomato sauce to make a sort of lumpy stew. (My mom used to make this for me for lunch sometimes. With decent sauce and grated cheese, it's actually a great warm meal on a winter's day.) If they could get bologna, my grandmother would fry it with egg to make it go farther. My grandpop eventually got a job at a bakery. I'm guessing he brought home bread, but my mom only recalled the warm donuts.

Just this month, I found a great blog on the subject of eating through history called Four Pounds Flour. Historic gastronomist Sarah Lohman covers topics from importing in the early 19th century to the roots of the Jello shot. Once in a while, she bravely engages in culinary living history, such as eating like a poor 1877 tenement dweller for a week, or her "Drink Like A Colonial American" day. I highly recommend this blog, especially for all you historical fiction writers out there who spend tons of time researching wardrobe, vehicles, houses, etc., but take food for granted.

Besides, food research is fun.

I think I'll have go have eggs in tomato sauce for lunch. Find the recipe on Miss Maggie's Facebook page.

Mangia,
Elena

Musings Stirred Up By a January Wind

2012-01-14T14:56:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting in an old farmhouse in rural New Jersey. When I left home last Tuesday, the streets of my town were lined with greenish-brown Christmas trees, put out for the trashman. Here, right across the road, are rows of live evergreens, part of a veritable Christmas tree ranch, its herd of spruces and pines grazing under the winter sun.

Back home, when I gaze from my window, I see a fairly constant parade of cars, pedestrians and neighbors' pets. Here, a vehicle passes by maybe five times a day. Otherwise, the only movement on the landscape is created by the January wind, swirling the big rhododendrons beside the house, quaking the shriveled, black leaves that cling to shrubs by a thread, making the tall brown grasses over in the tree pasture billow like the ocean.

Back home my nearest neighbors are on the other side of a cinder block firewall. Here, they're a quarter mile away.

Mulling over these comparisons recalls to mind two things. First, a conversation I had with the editor of Double Cross. She grew up in the city and her feeling was that a small town placed in the middle of the wilderness (which I used as a setting in the novel) automatically has sinister overtones because of its remoteness. I didn't agree.

The other memory is from last week's reading matter. I was researching old Celtic and newer Wiccan beliefs for my next Pat Montella book. Much of what I read stressed the view that humans are a part of nature and shouldn't try to master it or fight it. While reading these materials, I was reminded how much I used to love hiking and bird-watching and star-gazing and rock hunting, even simply sitting by a quiet stream listening to the water. I used to love nature and spent a little time each week enjoying it. I realized, except for working in my garden, I hadn't spent many hours outside in the last few years. So one of my New Year's resolutions is to change that and get back to nature. Which, at least, should help me write the novel.

Sitting here, I suppose I can understand why someone might think this house—a good distance from its neighbors and remote from the nearest town—might make a sinister location for a story. But I think man brings all things sinister with him. This place is lovely and peaceful, which seems to be good for my imagination.

In fact, I can almost picture tree cowboys riding in to roundup those evergreens next fall, to drive them northwest to Philly for the Yuletide season. That would be a sight to see.

Yep, I definitely need to get out more this year.

Peace,

(and thanks to Robin Hathaway for sharing her solitude)

Elena

Luck in the New Year

2012-01-04T14:20:00.000-05:00

If you're eating a piece of toast and a dental crown pops out, it's a minor nuisance. You have to interrupt your week with a dental appointment. You brace yourself, in case the dentist tells you the crown has to be replaced, turning the incident into a major nuisance and unscheduled hit to your budget. Still, you take care of it and move on.

BUT, let that crown pop out on December 31 or on the following day or two, and the event morphs into an omen for the coming year. Me? I started the year with a crater where a molar should be. Bad karma seems inevitable, right?

I realized how pervasive this kind of superstition is when I heard friends and kin view the bad or good occurrences of the last few days in the same portentous light. My brother's oven blew a circuit New Year's Day (despite the fact that he was cooking good luck foods like pork and sauerkraut). Had it happened next week or 2 weeks ago, all he'd have is a broken appliance. Happening when it did, it could portend 52 weeks of, I don't know, undercooked food or something.

Traditional bad omens on New Year's Day include an east wind (which brings famine and calamities), carrying anything out of your house (I took brownies to a party, curse it), doing laundry (no problem there), and failing to make loud noises at midnight (to scare off evil spirits). The tradition of noise making for good luck has been around for thousands of years. In POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, I showed the colonial American version, which was shooting off guns at dawn (also done on Christmas morning). My neighbors shoot off serious fireworks, ensuring we'll all start the year deaf, at least. I ring jingle bells, being more musical.

For good luck in 2012, you should have filled your larder and stuffed your wallet full of money (I wonder if it matters if it's someone else's money?). You should have paid all your debts before midnight December 31st, and seen the year in wearing a new garment. The first person you let into your house should have been tall, dark-haired and male (I wish).

You can read more good and bad New Year's omens at Snopes.com. If you know of any others, put them in the comments below.

Wishing you peace in the New Year,
Elena

Potato, Potahto, Spud

2011-12-30T09:09:00.000-05:00

I was pondering what sort of end-of-2011 blog to write when one of my Facebook friends posted a link to an article titled "10 Words You Mispronounce That Make People Think You're An Idiot." His posting touched off a longer, more involved discussion than most political posts do.

I had several objections to the article, the main being that the very idea that a person should be judged an idiot simply by how he pronounces certain words and not by the content of what he's saying is offensive. But of course, that's how humanity does these things -- judge a person by what they wear or how they comb their hair, rather than what they stand for and what they've accomplished.

Beyond that, the writer's entire viewpoint revolved around himself, his background and pronunciation he'd been taught in school. He obviously knew nothing about the history of words and speech, or about usage in regional dialects.

He didn't know, for example, that "sherbet" and "sherbert" originally had 2 different meanings, the first being a cold fruit drink of 17th century Persia and Turkey. "Sherbert" was more often used to describe ices made with milk, egg white and gelatin that became popular in the next 2 centuries. Now both spellings are used interchangeably to mean the ice, and can be pronounced either way (at least, according to most dictionaries, including my Merriam-Webster's). Sherbet is actually more often pronounced with the "r" in most regions.

Speaking of "often," this word was pronounced with a "t" through the 17th century. Probably because of regional dialects and popular orators dropping the "t" sound, the more common pronunciation became "offen" in the last few hundred years, but many dialects continued the old pronunciation, and it's experienced a comeback in the last thirty years. This doesn't mean it's wrong. And since the word's meaning doesn't change, no matter which way you say it, your neighbor pronouncing it differently from you shouldn't be a motive for murder.

The beauty of language is, I think, in it's flexibility and ability to evolve. The bottom line is that our language allows us to communicate. Sure, we have rules of grammar and spelling, and yes, pronunciation, but the rules are there merely to facilitate communication, and shouldn't restrict us or make us judge one another for the way we speak. We need to allow a bit of leeway for everyone's unique voice, which to my mind is one of the most beautiful of human traits.

If you're interested in the evolution of language, I recommend an excellent article in the November 19, 2011 Science News called Darwin's Tongues.

In 2012, I'd love to see everyone (myself included) make an effort to listen to each other -- to the meaning of words, instead of just the sounds. Concentrating on substance might allow us to see through the pretty soundbites of all those political speeches we'll be hearing the next 11 months.

Peace in the New Year,
Elena

My Favorite Story

2011-12-22T08:34:00.002-05:00

I'm often asked to name my favorite author. The first name out of my mouth is always Agatha Christie, not only because my writing's better for having studied her work. I can, and have, read her novels and shorts over and over, and still enjoy them.

But the second name I mention is Charles Dickens. I do, after all, write ghost stories, and he was a master of them. He wrote several, though most readers are only familiar with his most famous one. He was also a master of mood-setting description and, believe it or not, humor.

People ask me to name my favorite book, too, and I have more trouble. How can I name just one? But I had an epiphany a few nights ago. My absolute favorite story of all time is Dickens's A Christmas Carol. Not simply the book either, though I love it and read it every December. No, I love the story itself.

I first encountered Scrooge when I was 6 years old. My parents tuned the TV to Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. I didn't know then that the ghosts were out of order. I had no clue the cartoon was based on a literary classic published in 1843. I only knew that Marley and the Ghost of Christmas "Future" scared the bejeebers out of me to the point that I had nightmares, and that I loved Tiny Tim and his rassleberry dressing.

The next year (because of the nightmares) my parents weren't going to let me watch the show, but I insisted (closing my eyes during the scary parts). I watched it every year thereafter, then began adding other versions: Mickey's Christmas Carol with Scrooge McDuck, the old Alastair Sim film, Scrooge the Musical, the George C. Scott version, The Muppet Christmas Carol, An American Christmas Carol with Henry Winkler, Scrooged with Bull Murray, etc.

I was in high school when I read the original for the first time. It was an abridged version, but I loved hearing the story in Dickens's own voice. I later read the unabridged and found out my earlier version had cut out all the funny lines. I'm still wondering why.

As I said, I read it every December, but I still watch the movie and TV versions, and I'm delighted to find a new (to me) retelling. As long as the strong bones of the story are intact and the nasty main character satisfyingly undergoes a transformation into a good guy, I'm a happy camper. I've had this story told to me for nearly 50 years and haven't tired of it yet.

Which is a lesson itself in what makes a story great.

What's your favorite TV, movie, or even radio version of A Christmas Carol?

Merry Christmas,
and God Bless Us, Every One!
Elena

Please Support Your Book Farmers

2011-12-14T10:23:00.000-05:00

Most of us have been busy shopping for gifts. This year, I've heard lots of folks say they're boycotting the Corporate America sellers in favor of "Main St." If it's true, they're helping to strengthen their local economy, right?

Only in part.

In my neighborhood is a mom-and-pop produce place. I love that store. Besides being part of our local economy, their goods are usually the same price or cheaper than the supermarket. There's one catch. Much of their produce is pre-bagged, so I can't choose my own pieces and I have to take 4-6 of each. But, hey, if I can save 50% on Florida grapefruit or Mexican bell peppers or whatever, I don't mind checking the bag carefully and taking a set quantity. And it feels good to support a local store.

However, I still buy some produce at the supermarket. Why? In the summer especially, the big market carries the harvests of farms within a 50 mile radius. They even list the farms who provide the produce. Supporting local farmers is as important to me as supporting local indie stores. If my little indie store sold more local farm produce, I'd be absolutely faithful. But in my mind, the farmers have to come first. If they disappear, our local food economy disappears.

How does this translate to the book industry? I find lately that the prevailing opinion is "Indies good, box stores and Amazon evil." The people spreading this simplified view of the economy are only looking at the retail level of it. No one seems to be stating the publishing-level equivalent--"Small presses good, corporate publishers evil." And no one is mentioning the workers who actually manufacture the product, your friendly self-employed book farmers: the authors.

The majority of writers (at least the vast majority I know) are truly the sweatshop laborers of the industry. For the months of work put into a novel, even from authors who can write quickly, the average amount earned over the time that book remains in print is almost always less than minimum wage. If you add in the hours an author spends on promotion of that book, and subtract expenses for travel, advertising and the rest, sewing stuffed animals in China starts to sound like lucrative work.

I know truly amazing indie stores who support authors in all kinds of way. They not only stock my books (or are willing to order them if a customer asks), but they also aren't afraid to deal with legitimate small presses. They have a pile of books waiting for me when I do a signing. They ask me to sign a couple copies for the store before I leave. They publicize my appearance. They talk about my books before I arrive and after I leave. They do this for all their local authors and ones passing through on tours, and in return, the authors send customers their way.

In the last 5 years or so, though, I've come across an increasing number of indies who seem to order books only from big corporate publishers, even if they've scheduled an author event or are a dealer at a conference. The majority of authors I've appeared with at signings in the last year have had to schlep their own books to events. What's up with that? I realize that some small presses play fast and loose with industry standards, but mine doesn't. Yet many bookstores won't even call to ask questions.

Amazon, evil empire that it is, at least gives all authors a little shelf space and a page on which to promote our wares. Amazon might be huge and making profits hand over fist, but right now, they treat authors better than the rest of the industry.

I'm not saying shopping at indies is wrong. Far from it. I do my best to support the good ones. I have a link on my website to help readers find indie bookstores near them. All I ask of indies is that they support authors in return. We can help you sell more books. Really.

All of us as readers need to take a closer look at who's taking our money and where it's going from there. The economy doesn't only exist on the retail level. How many bucks are making it back to the guy down at the bottom? I've known too many authors who've quit writing the last 5 years because they just can't take the frustration and inability to make ends meet. And that breaks my heart.

We have to support our book farmers first. If they disappear, bookstores disappear.

Go read,
Elena (who's getting too old to schlep books)

New Holiday Mystery in the (St.) Nick of Time

2011-12-01T08:13:00.000-05:00

Here it is, December, and lots of mystery readers are looking for novels with holiday settings.

Last summer, when my first Twins mystery, TWO-FACED, made its debut, I was about halfway done the sequel, DOUBLE CROSS, which takes place in the four days leading up to Christmas. I never thought it would be out for this season, but everything went smoothly and I'm happy to announce that DOUBLE CROSS is now available for Kindle (and cheap, too, only $3.99).

DOUBLE CROSS continues the story of Gen Ziegler, a young criminal psychologist just starting her career. She's been estranged from her twin sister, Sara, but now Gen's moving back home during winter break. She and Sara are driving Gen's U-Haul trailer cross-country from Arizona to Pennsylvania when they're forced spend a few days in a tiny West Texas town right outside Guadalupe Mountains National Park. They find that the area is full of secrets, a few wanted outlaws, and of course, murder and danger, seemingly behind every sagebrush. Not an ideal situation for sisters just looking for a quiet holiday and a chance to heal their dysfunctional relationship.

I put extra information about DOUBLE CROSS on Shelfari. Also, watch this blog for a DOUBLE CROSS contest in the near future (you have to read the book to find the clues before entering, though).

Happy Holiday Reading,
Elena

Listening For Ghosts

2011-11-26T07:42:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I visited a haunted house. I don't mean the commercial kind that springs up in your town before Halloween. This was Selma Mansion, an 18th century house with a long history of unexplained phenomena. In fact, the building's been studied by 3 different paranormal investigative groups.

Last Saturday, to raise funds for restoring and maintaining the old landmark, the Norristown Preservation Society ran historical tours of the place, followed by presentations by the Pennsylvania Underground Paranormal Society (P.U.P.S.).

Now, I admit, I do believe in ghosts, the same way I believe in God and the afterlife and black holes and other things I haven't seen. But I also believe in scientific method and the kind of good deductive reasoning you find in a great murder mystery, so I'm likely one of the biggest skeptics of what constitutes "evidence" of ghosts.

I tend to ignore photos of "orbs" (what looks like bubbles of light). In my experience as an amateur photographer, orbs are always cause by odd light angles and reflective surfaces in just the wrong spot. I was glad to hear P.U.P.S. say they didn't bother with orbs.

They did play some recordings that sounded like wood cracking. Yeah, in the silence of an abandoned house in the middle of the night, a loud crack of wood can be pretty unsettling. Yesterday morning at about 4 am, I heard a loud crack out in my hallway. Not a ghost, but the wood of one of the balusters on my stair railing, contracting as it cooled. My stair treads and some of the floating panels on my doors do the same thing. In an old house, especially after several layers of paint make it hard for wood to naturally expand and contract, cracking sounds are every day events. So I wish paranormal investigators would ignore them, too.

They showed some infrared videos. Except for one film, I either couldn't see the extra shadows or lights they claimed were there, or I thought they could be attributable to optical illusions. One did show a light that seemed to go on by itself. That was cool.

What did fascinate me were the digital audio recordings. I have pretty good hearing and, trained as a musician, I think I can separate individual sounds out of cacophony fairly well. On some of the recordings, I wasn't convinced that the "ghost voices" P.U.P.S. said were present really were. However, on a lot of their recordings, I distinctly heard faint words, some even seeming to answer direct questions. Assuming there was no hoax involved (and I hope there wasn't, because the investigators all seem to be genuinely nice people), this was impressive. The house also contained old servants' bells and buzzers, all disconnected, but I could hear an occasional tingle or buzz on the recordings as well.

Whether or not these recordings prove the existence of ghosts at Selma (or elsewhere where similar voices have been recorded), I have to say I was completely intrigued by the visit. And of course, it's fodder for my writing.

Paranormal investigation of Selma Mansion will be featured in the coming weeks on the Ghost Detectives TV show.

Happy Haunting,
Elena

The Quest for Saints and Scoundrels

2011-11-16T10:30:00.000-05:00

Pat Montella, the protagonist in my Possessed Mystery Series, mentions her gene pool quite a bit. Coming from a huge Italian family, researching her family tree was a survival tactic. I know because I resort to the same tactic when trying to keep straight my 32 first cousins and their families, and at least double that number of second cousins.

The knowledge also comes in handy as a functional database of hereditary health problems. It's an affirmation, too. Looking over my kin and our ancestors, I find good storytellers, musicians, science geeks, and kind, caring people.

Ancestral surprises are a recurring theme in of my Possessed novels. Pat found new branches on her family tree in both By Blood Possessed and Fear Itself. Other series characters like Miss Maggie and the Lees, were enlightened about their ancestors in Hang My Head and Cry and Poison to Purge Melancholy.

That's the intriguing thing about genealogy. Surprises are fairly common because so few of us know much about our families before our grand- or great-grandparents. For a writer, this can also be a great story fodder.

A month ago, I was amazed to learn that my family likely has heredity dwarfism in our DNA. Simply put, it's a pituitary growth deficiency, and sometimes it only affects parts of the body. I always knew we were short--my dad and his brother Charlie, at 5'4", were the tallest of their siblings. Their mother was 4'8". But this may explain why every dentist I've visited in the last 25 years has told me I have tiny teeth. One cousin said she could picture us coming from a race of court jesters. I'm not sure. If our progenitors told jokes as badly as our family does now, they would have been beheaded before they could procreate. Still, I can believe I come from a race of hammy actors who could sing, tell a yarn and do acrobatics.

I've read that amateur genealogists come in two flavors: those searching their family tree for famous or heroic kin, and those looking for scoundrels and black sheep. I'm not sure which I am. I think I'm simply in it for the stories.

If you've explored your family tree, what was your motive?

Peace,
Elena (short and proud of it)

My New Favorite Toy

2011-11-08T13:42:00.000-05:00

If you like reading stories about crime, deception, betrayal, murder and the human nature associated with such things (and what mystery fan doesn't?), you'll find an impressive, searchable source for these tales at www.oldbaileyonline.org

That's right, Old Bailey, London's Central Criminal Court. Their archives, from 1674 through 1913, have been digitalized. On the righthand side of their home page, just drop a keyword into the search box and see what comes up.

My first search was on the word "witch." The first result, pictured above, was the proceedings for the trial of 60 year-old Jane Kent, accused of practicing witchcraft and the "Diabolick Arts" in 1682 after one man's pigs, wife and 5 year-old daughter fell ill and the little girl died. A woman who supposedly searched the prisoner swore that she had a "Teat on her back" and unusual holes behind her ears.

And that was just a random search.

You can use the Advanced Search function to find trials by, say, offence or punishment. I searched on death by burning and discovered that it was the go-to sentence in the 17th century for coin clipping (that is, shaving or clipping silver from around the edges of coins. Isaac Newton was the dude who came up with the idea of putting ridges around the rims of coins as a way to detect clipping).

I found this website from an article in Science News dealing with one of the site's creators, Tim Hitchcock of the University of Hertsfordshire. One of his analyses showed how guilty pleas soared from less than 3% to nearly one third around the year 1825. At the same time, the length of a third of the trials dropped from about 5000 words to less than 100. The concept of "plea bargaining" had been born.

If you're writing historical crime fiction that takes place in England or the Americas in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, this site is an amazing primary source.

Oh, and if you're wondering, the Jury found Jane Kent not guilty. Still, I can't help but wonder if that growth on her back eventually killed her.

Peace,
Elena

Buy a Book, Feed the Poor

2011-11-03T16:07:00.000-04:00

Learning history isn't much good if you don't apply the knowledge to today's problems. That's the whole point of my Possessed Series. Each novel has two mysteries, one historical, one present day, and hopefully a bit of insight about what we've learned, or haven't, between the two eras.

I set FEAR ITSELF in my hometown simply because my best historical resources were here, namely people who were alive in 1933 and willing to talk my ears off about it. I couldn't include every story, but I think I got a handle on what life was like in a poor Italian neighborhood in Norristown, PA during the Great Depression.

This week I found myself wondering if I'd done justice to the modern day setting. While running some errands, I drove along a street I haven't been down in a while. At one intersection, I saw a long line of people. I remembered there was a food bank in that building. Never had I seen a line that long at that food bank. This was the early afternoon, so that also meant those folks didn't have day jobs. It reminded me of the bread lines I'd seen in 1930s photos while doing research for FEAR ITSELF.

Also this week, I heard that an "Occupy Norristown" protest is scheduled for Saturday. My first reaction was to wonder what there was to protest against in Norristown. We don't have a financial district. In fact, for a small city of 30,000 residents, we have pitiful few bank branches left in town. We had more in 1933. That goes for Main St. businesses too. Back then you had your choice of 5 movie theaters, 2 five-and-ten stores, 2 department stores, at least 4 large food markets, as well as two shopping districts of stores with every kind of goods and service imaginable. After FDR took office and the economy picked up, we had a slew of local factories and mills who started hiring again. Today most of the large businesses have closed. The rest moved out of town, most nowhere near public transportation. We do have some small independent stores on Main St., but our downtown is a ghost of its former self.

I'm pretty certain the richest 1% of America can't be found my hometown.

From researching my town's newspaper archive, I know that, as bad as things were in 1933 here, everyone tried to pitch in to help anyone poorer and hungrier. These days at least two of our Congressmen are talking about slapping the poor with higher taxes.

I've decided, to do my small part, I'm going to give10% of my FEAR ITSELF royalties (including ebooks) the local charities in Norristown that seem to be doing the most good for our poorest residents--like that food bank with the long line. This town helped my ancestors weather hard times in the Great Depression, so I'm giving back. If you want to help
Find a local Independent Bookstore and help your own economy.
Order from Amazon.
Order from Barnes & Noble.

Peace,
Elena

Here lies NICE

2011-10-27T08:23:00.000-04:00

(and other epitaphs from the Graveyard of Overused Words)

Last week I taught writing workshops to 4th graders. One classroom had a terrific bulletin board display titled "The Graveyard of Overused Words." The board was covered with cut-out tombstones with epitaphs like

Here lies NICE, cold as ice.

Around the sides of the stones were synonyms that could be used instead. Samples of other epitaphs:

REALLY is buried here, along with his brother VERY.

This is the grave of COOL, who died a fool.

The teacher told me that her students were allowed to use these words only once per writing assignment. This got me thinking of words I tended to overuse and epitaphs I'd add.

Here lies IT.
We don't need you. Git.

Do you have a favorite (or anti-favorite) overused word? Add an epitaph for your word under comments below.

Peace, (Serenity, Tranquility),
Elena

A Case of the Broodies

2011-10-20T10:14:00.000-04:00

Agatha Christie stated in her autobiography that she'd get a "broody" feeling when she was between books, or when her writing wasn't going well.

The last month, I've had a serious case of the broodies. I was working on the last 3 chapters of DOUBLE CROSS, the second novel in my Twins mystery series. As I was tying up loose ends, I discovered a few loopholes.

Writing a book is like building a house. You need a good structure and you need a floor plan that flows. The rest is cosmetics and can be changed once the first draft is complete. But if you're putting on the roof and realize walls need to be moved around or eliminated, it's easier (for me, anyway) to go back, make decisions on plot changes and implement them right away.

What brings on the broodies is losing momentum. Momentum is what keeps a story's energy level high. Most writers handing out advice will tell you to keep writing no matter what. Save rewrites until your first draft is complete. Absolutely sound advice, yet for me, it only works for cosmetic changes. Easy enough, once the house is built, to adjust the paint color, or even move non-load-bearing walls. Structural repairs are different. I can't keep working on a building in danger of collapse.

Going back to fix problems is part of the craft. Sometimes it's a pain, but more often it's a good challenge, even fun. You see a better way to tell the story, and that's always satisfying.

The good news is, the loopholes are gone and yesterday I finished the first draft. I celebrated by turning off the PC, making a big pot of soup and watching a Ghost Whisperer marathon on TV. Now I'm ready for rewrites.

Peace,
Elena

What's in A Dream?

2011-10-12T11:22:00.000-04:00

In my new mystery series, beginning with the novel TWO-FACED, I created twin protagonists: two young sisters who both go into the same field--psychology. My main sleuth, Gen Ziegler, is a personality psychologist who does criminal profiles (making it easier for her to become involved in murders). Her identical twin Sara, to satisfy my own interest in the subject, specializes in dream psych.

My fascination with the world of dreams was renewed last January 6th. That's when I woke out of one of the most pleasant dreams I've ever had to realize I was being wheeled out of an operating room after having my thyroid ousted. The nurses were yelling at me that all had gone well. I mentally cursed them for bringing me back to the world of medical discomfort.

By the next morning, after being allowed to resume my slumbers, then having viewed three or four more episodes of sleep sitcoms, I realized that I hadn't remembered a dream in years. Given certain symptoms before the operation--lack of focus, inability to concentrate for very long--it was likely I hadn't had adequate REM sleep in quite a while.

Since then, I've returned to a more or less normal-for-me writing schedule. And I've experienced REM sleep almost nightly, even in double or triple features--sometimes scary, sometimes off-the-wall, sometimes downright comic. The other night I dreamt about the setting of a twins novel I'm writing (working title, DOUBLE CROSS). When I woke up, I realized I was singing a song about the town...in Spanish.

I don't speak Spanish. Nor do I have any plans to turn the book into a musical. But it sure was funny at 3 in the morning.

Sweet dreams,
Elena

The Book Industry Could Learn a Thing or Two in Collingswood

2011-10-03T10:29:00.000-04:00

I was at the Collingswood Book Festival this past weekend and I noticed that the attendees bought less books than in the past. At first glance, you'd think this was due to the bad economy. Yet, they seemed to be buying plenty of ice cream and pizza. This trend does not bode well for America's wars on obesity and illiteracy. (Okay, I admit, I too bought ice cream. You can't be that close to the Pop Shop in Collingswood and NOT get ice cream.)

The other years I've manned a booth at this festival, people would stop by and talk about books or ask about writing. Even kids did this, which made the long day of fighting Philly traffic, schlepping books and worrying about the weather worth the trip.

This year, only a handful of folks struck up a conversation. Most tried to walk by as far from the booth as possible, without making eye contact. Of the few that slowed down to read my poster, if I said "hello" or "Do you like mystery books?", I often earned an anguished "Please don't speak to me" look in return. Other reactions included a wrinkled nose expression of disgust, as if I'd offered to put live slugs on the slice of pizza in their hands. One woman went off into a long-winded tirade about how she hadn't brought cash and none of the vendors would take her MAC card. (Most of the booths were occupied by authors or authors' organizations.)

However, I gave out more business cards than in past years. Some said they'd look up my books in the library, which is fine by me. If I did my job right, after reading one novel, those people will seek out another. But also, the next morning I saw that my digital sales had spiked. I'm thinking that this is the trend most worth noting.

I'll end this with a description of one customer who walked up to my table wheeling a small cloth rucksack behind her. The sack was stuffed to the ripping point with books. She patiently listened to my elevator series synopsis, then said she'd run out of money. I'd heard this as a rebuff from other potential readers, so I wasn't surprised when she walked away. But fifteen minutes later, she was back to buy a novel--she'd gone home to drop off her load and grab more cash. She said she was going away for 3 days (days!) and was afraid of running out of things to read.

In the book world, this is like meeting a living saint. God bless those readers, every one.

Peace,
Elena

You're Probably Wondering Why I Called You All Here

2011-09-21T20:46:00.000-04:00

In the last few weeks, whenever a friend asked how my writing was going, my stock answer was "I hate denouements."

A denouement is the part of a mystery novel where the clues come together, the puzzle is solved, everything's explained and the loose ends are tied up.

As I approach the denouement, I'm always reenergized. I've mentioned before that writing a novel can be likened to swimming across the ocean. Once I've planted the last clue, it's like looking up and finally seeing the opposite shore. I can pick a landing spot and head for it. Problem is, I'm tempted to sprint, forgetting about all the writing equivalents of shoals and riptides.

Explanations in and of themselves are pretty boring. If you've ever had a college lecture course, you know what I mean. Doing a simple quick explanation will only tempt the reader to skip ahead to the ending, then it won't be satisfying for them.

Few writers have the skills of Agatha Christie, who could pull off the type of denouement where all suspects are gathered together and the detective goes through the motives and opportunity of each one. Christie always saved several twists for these scenes, to keep the denouement interesting. Not that she didn't play fair. She probably told you the vital clues in chapter one and promptly misled you so much, you forgot them.

Most writers I know combine the denouement with the final suspenseful confrontation. The villain spills his guts while trying to kill the hero. Or the villain is smart enough not to spill his guts, but gets caught in the act. Or the hero makes the last connection in time to save an innocent life.

Regardless of how the denouement unfolds, it must keep the reader turning pages while providing a fair and satisfying solution. The best ones are dragged out just enough to make the reader beg for more.

I've read tons of writing advice about spending serious time on first chapters, getting them right, so you irresistibly draw the reader into your books. I think denouements are even more difficult to write, and it's so hard to go slow on those last few chapters. Hence my grumpy mood right now.

Still, by taking time to do the denouement well, you draw the reader into your next novel.

'Scuze me, I'm nearing the breakwater.

Peace,
Elena

Great Story, Bad Book

2011-08-31T11:56:00.000-04:00

All writers need editing. I've said that before, but every year, it seems, I read more and more books that are poorly edited, if edited at all. I just finished one—a really good story, so I saw it through to the end, but the lack of copyediting and of things like mixed-up character names drove me nuts. On top of that, the galleys had apparently never been proofed because I saw formatting errors like hard returns in the middle of paragraphs. That publishing house so obviously didn't care about the quality of their product that I may never buy another of their books.

Editing can make or break you as a writer. Yet editors are traditionally so invisible that, in these days of self-publishing-made-easy, we forget editors exist for good reasons. Readers and most unpublished writers (and some published ones) have no idea what a good editor does or should do for a book. Here's what I've learned from the good editors I've had the pleasure to know:

1. Good editors don't let you settle. They point out your manuscript's weaknesses, coincidences, lame plot devices, loopholes, bad structure, and questionable research. They can zero in on those parts of the novel you slapped together (at the last minute, on too little sleep, to make your deadline) like flies zero in on garbage.

2. A good editor will ask you to change anything that makes you sound as if you don't have a command of your native language and a decent vocabulary. They'll say things like, "You used the word 'though' 187 times. Change a few of them." They won't let you use 200,000 words when 70,000 will do.

3. Good editors will tell you when your characters are out of character or wooden or just plain stupid. Editors should have a sixth sense that knows the page at which your average intelligent reader will get fed up with the hero and hurl the book across the room.

And here's what I've learned about good editing from bad editors:

1. A good editor will never, ever make changes in a manuscript without the writer's permission. I had one editor take colloquialisms out, until I was left with no narrative voice. I only found this out when I was sent the first proofs. I just heard of another writer who had this sort of thing happen at another house.

2. A good editor knows punctuation, spelling and standard text formatting. You'd think I wouldn't have to say that, but it's truer now than ever.

3. A good editor makes the writer fix his or her own wording, plot problems, etc. Mild suggestions are acceptable, but the editor has no business doing the writing. Too many editors seem to want to mark their territory this way. And too many novice writers would rather leave the rewrites to someone else. What you get is a book by committee.

This is why, when I decided to do an original series on Kindle, I sought out a good independent editor for the books. And I use several proofreaders for every story and novel I write, even before an editor picks it up.

Too many writers simply want to be published. A good piece of writing should be published well, with some level of integrity. Authors ought to care about that integrity more than anyone else. After all, check out whose name goes on the cover.

Peace,
Elena

The New and Unexpected

2011-08-24T10:27:00.001-04:00

Back when I was in high school, I remember half-waking up in the middle of the night, thinking I heard the window make noise. I blinked at the room for maybe a second, then fell back to sleep. Next morning I heard we had an earthquake. I live on the East Coast. Once in a lifetime experience. I was bummed that I'd missed it.

Yesterday at 1:50 pm, I was in my 2nd floor office, sitting at my PC, writing, totally in the zone. The rest of the world didn't exist.

Some independent part of left brain heard what sounded exactly like someone running up my stairs. The house is old--running up the stairs shakes the floorboards. Didn't faze me until I realized I ought to be alone in the house. Noise stopped, but the vibration increased until it felt like someone wiggling my desk chair from behind. That brought me out of the zone. Heavy truck going by? Explosion across town? The desk moved under my hands.

The vibration stopped abruptly. I was turning in my chair when it began again and this time, the room swayed. The Venetian blind rods moved, my bobble-head moose nodded, my PC monitor was wiggling like it was made of Jello. Now I knew an earthquake was passing through. But I sat frozen. And geek that I am, my first thought was "How cool!"

All this lasted maybe 4 seconds. I went outside, not because I felt unsafe--I only wanted to ask the neighbors what they felt. I was fascinated.

Of course, by now I was so out of the zone, I gave up on writing for the day. But it got me thinking about how often we mystery writers put our characters in new and unexpected situations.

In BY BLOOD POSSESSED, someone shoots at my protagonist. She's not expecting it, she's never been shot at before. Like me in the earthquake, it takes her a moment to realize what's happening, then she freezes. I think I got her reaction right in that instance. After yesterday, though, I'm not so sure of other scenes where she experiences something new.

Reactions, of course, must be personality-driven, but no one should react to a new experience with perfect reflexes, even characters with emergency training of some sort. Yet, I've read too many novels where the protagonist reacts instantly, somehow instinctively doing the right thing. To me, that's the fastest way to dehumanize a character.

Last night quite a few of the people I heard from said they never wanted to feel an earthquake again. Me? If no one gets hurt and no property is damaged, I wouldn't mind another chance to observe the experience.

Like I said, I'm a geek...and a writer.

Peace,
Elena

Apple Butter and Water

2011-08-18T09:18:00.000-04:00

I don't have sisters, but I've been lucky enough for most of my life to have a few close friends who've been like sisters to me. Most of them are Pennsylvania Dutch.

When I decided to create a new mystery series with twin sister protagonists (first novel TWO-FACED), I knew I wanted them to be different than my Possessed series protagonist, Pat Montella. Pat's a lot like me. All Italian, a refugee from corporate America, and the same age I was when I began writing her series—late thirties. She's a better cook than I could ever be, but I've learned from her in that respect.

Gen and Sara Ziegler are lousy cooks. They're also products of the academic world and ten years younger than Pat. But probably the biggest difference is their background. They're half Pennsylvania Dutch, raised in the Schwenkfelder church. If you're asking what a Schwenkfelder is, you're not alone. Only a few of their churches survive, all in southeastern Pennsylvania, most at the northern end of my county. I learned about them through my best friend, Linda, and her sisters, who were raised in that tradition.

Casper Schwenckfeld isn't as well-known as other founders of the German Reformation, possibly because his philosophy was easy-going. He preached that ministers shouldn't tell their flocks what to believe, that everyone had to discover what to believe in their own hearts. His followers were therefore fairly tolerant of other sects. When they came to America in the early 1700s, they didn't settle in a segregated block like so many before them, but fit in and around other settlements, wherever there was room.

The main group of Schwenkfelders landed here on September 22, 1734, and two days later held a service of Thanksgiving. Since then, Schwenkfelders have observed this Day of Remembrance by sharing a simple meal of bread, butter, apple butter and water. (Side note: Schwenkfelders make the best apple butter in the universe. No lie.)

So, making Gen and Sara Schwenkfelders meant creating a fictional hometown for them. I set Mount Ebal, PA up amid the rolling hills of my county, where there's still (for now anyway) more farms than development. The setting gives me an excuse to go to the Central Schwenkfelder Country Fair each year, where I can load up on apple butter, jams, and other Penn Dutch goodies, and call it research.

The other half of Gen and Sara's genetics? I couldn't resist giving them a mysterious Sicilian side. They are, after all, my kids.

Peace,

Elena

The Forgotten Man at the Bottom

2011-08-09T11:57:00.000-04:00

Even if you only catch national news on the fly while switching channels between ESPN and Disney, you probably noticed that this week everyone's talking about the economy and whether or not we're headed for another Great Depression.

The historical part of my novel FEAR ITSELF is set in the first week of March, 1933. The main reason I chose that week was the infamous "bank holiday" that officially began on March 5th and shut down all U.S. banks. In my mind, I pictured that as a really scary thing--no credit cards, no ATMs, no way to access your money. No knowing how long that would be the case.

Then I asked my parents about it. "We didn't even notice," Mom said. "We didn't have enough money to put in the bank."

A difficult concept to wrap my brain around: No savings, except maybe a few bucks squirreled away behind a picture frame now and then. More likely only the coins in your pocket to get you through each day.

That's not to say that poor people weren't affected by the Depression. This is where the theory of trickle down economics has any validity at all--not in times of prosperity, but in times of loss. When speculation bubbles burst, the loss gets passed down the ladder to the poor. They're the first to lose their jobs, their means of transportation, and their homes. And because they have so little, the percentage of what they do lose is huge. Less workers, less mortgages, less loan payments all mean less profit, so eventually the wealthy also lose money and the situation, at last, can be called a Depression. Someone finally takes a look at the economic structure and finds the weak links.

In 1933, banks were some of these links. No computers then. At best, this meant human errors often went undetected. At worse, lack of consistent record keeping made corruption and fraud easy. FDR called a "bank holiday" so Federal inspectors could audit bank records. Once a bank passed audit, they could reopen. Since Saturday March 4th was the president's inauguration, many banks were persuaded to close early on Friday the 3rd, giving the inspectors a long weekend to get started.

As some of you know, I start my historical chapters with period quotes. Here are a few of my favorites from FEAR ITSELF:

"All the really important millionaires are planning to continue prosperity."

Arthur Brisbane, Nov. 26, 1929

"These really are good times but only a few know it."

Henry Ford, 1930

"There is not an unemployed man in the country that hasn't contributed to the wealth of every millionaire in America."

Will Rogers, Nov. 1931

"These unhappy times call for the building of plans...that put their faith once more in the forgotten man at the bottom of the economic pyramid."

FDR, campaign speech, April 1932

So, are we headed for another Depression now? Don't ask the bankers or Wall Street. Ask the forgotten people at the bottom of the pyramid. Many of them will tell you we're already there.

Elena

HOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?

2011-07-31T06:52:00.000-04:00

The novel I'm currently writing takes place in December. The location isn't the coldest place in winter, but daily highs average 59 F and lows average 38 F.

In the past two weeks where I live, afternoon temperatures have been between 85 and 103, and nights between 67 and 83. Sitting here in my shorts and sleeveless shirts, it's not easy to remember to put jackets and gloves on my characters. It's hard to recall what a winter breeze feels like on naked skin. Or to picture little white puffs of breath while people talk.

I had a similar situation while writing HANG MY HEAD AND CRY. That story takes place in July in Virginia, during a heat wave and drought. I wrote much of that novel during the winter.

Still, I believe in getting the weather and climate right for whatever setting I'm using. I think I mentioned once in this blog a book I'd read in which a family from Florida goes to Virginia for the Christmas holidays. The author had put far too much snow on the ground for the location. The characters were forever doing things like sitting under a tree for a half hour with no sign of discomfort, or walking on top of the snow without sinking in or slipping. One character said she'd forgotten her gloves, then went on to help build a snowman. The author was a Floridian. I suspect that, since she had no clue snow was wet and freezing cold, her only experiences with it were through visual media.

These days, it's easy to Google monthly average temperatures and precipitation for just about anywhere on earth. Writers researching historical novels can use weather descriptions in dairies and local newspaper archives. I did this with FEAR ITSELF. My 1933 characters had to deal with messier weather, but I had the satisfaction of knowing it was authentic and much more interesting than relentless nice days (which is rare for March in Southeastern Pennsylvania).

Weather adds depth and mood to a setting. Yet writers seldom use it except in the extreme, like the blizzard that stranded the train in MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS.

As I finish this blog, the sky outside is turning an ominous dark gray. I can hear thunder from the southwest.

Think I'll go enjoy the impending show.

Stay cool,
Elena

EBOOKS: Fear Itself and Two-Faced

2011-07-23T07:24:00.000-04:00

If I had any doubts about the future of electronic books, they were laid to rest by one question I've been relentlessly asked the last 3 months: "Is FEAR ITSELF available on Kindle?"

I'm happy to announce that, at last, FEAR ITSELF, the 4th book in the Pat Montella series, is available in both Kindle and Nook formats, at a better-than-reasonable price.

In addition, for those of you ebook fans who are completely insatiable, I've begun a new Kindle-exclusive series. The first novel, TWO-FACED went live today and, best of all, it's cheap.

TWO-FACED introduces my Twins Mystery Series, featuring forensic psychologist Gen Ziegler and her mirror-image twin, Sara. If Pat Montella and Miss Maggie could be considered my Poirot and Miss Marple, Gen and Sara are definitely my Tommy and Tuppence. They're young and more adventure-prone. I can throw all sorts of danger at them without worrying about things like osteoporosis.

Gen and Sara also let me show-off a bit of my local Pennsylvania culture. They're half Pennsylvania Dutch, half Sicilian, and they were brought up in the Schwenkfelder Church (only a handful of these churches are left in Southeastern PA). Apple butter and pizza sauce flow through their veins.

So go check them out and let me know what you think.

Peace,
Elena

Retreat, Regroup

2011-07-16T14:13:00.000-04:00

As I'm writing this, I'm sitting on a screened porch, enjoying my last hours at my second annual writing retreat. I think I mentioned last year that the location is so remote, my host has to lead me to it, a half hour in from the main road. No Internet access here, and this week, thanks to Verizon's efficiency (yes, that's sarcasm) not even a land line. A cellphone signal can be had if you've got a decent carrier and don't mind walking down the driveway a bit. With the phone out, last night's gorgeous full moon and the murder of crows that hung around all week, it's been rather like living inside a Hitchcock movie. Perfect mood for mystery writing.

The week was filled with lovely walks down farm roads, good food, and wildlife sightings (songbirds, bunnies, deer, a huge family of wild turkeys (mom, dad, 6 adolescents and 8 babies), and my first close-up look at a bald eagle). Evenings were spent listening to old radio plays.

But, of course, the purpose of the retreat was writing. While it's nice to have a quiet place for uninterrupted work, I find the real benefit of a retreat is for the thinking writing demands. At home, with all the distractions, it's hard to find time to step back from your project to ruminate on why a scene isn't working, or whether the book is flowing properly, or should the story take a whole new direction? Walking seems to get the creative juices flowing. Country air clears the mind. Ice cream at the end of the day rewards the soul.

That's the kind of mental rejuvenation these retreats offer. Honestly, I could use one 4 or 5 times a year.

Now back to reality. But I'll arrive home with loads of fresh Jersey produce and fresh ideas for my writing. And a great memory of a bald eagle sighting.

Peace,
Elena

Doodle Comes to Visit

2011-07-07T09:33:00.000-04:00

No writing yesterday. Sprout TV was filming scenes from two episodes of the children's show Noodle and Doodle right in front of my house. I camped out at my front window with iced tea and munchies.

I hadn't heard of N & D so I Googled it. It's an online show for preschoolers, featuring Noodle, a muppet who teaches kids how to cook healthy meals. The other title character is Doodle, sort of a cross between an Etch-a-Sketch and an iPad (really he's a hand-held blue screen that's later animated back at the studio). Driving these two stars around in a double-decker bus is human host Sean. The bus and Noodle were absent. Too hot for them perhaps. It was humid and 88 degrees in the shade where my thermometer hangs. They were filming in the sun. They hung white scrims overhead to diffuse the light, and had cases of bottled water and a big fan, but it must have been stifling out there. But Sean and Doodle were present, along with a production crew of about 30 people. I have to say, they were all very nice and friendly, apologized for making us all move our cars and closing off our street, and at the end of the day, they cleaned the whole block so it looked better than when they began. In my prior experience with film companies (I was an extra in Twelve Monkeys), this isn't always the norm.

They use different preschoolers on every show, and yesterday's certainly weren't seasoned actors (what 4 year-olds are?). The directors both deserve Emmys just for coaching the tots through take after take (for instance, fifteen minutes of shooting them saying "Bye, Sean!" and waving, when their attention spans lasted no more than 5 minutes). One little boy simply stopped doing anything. One little girl relieved her rising boredom by getting more creative, running into the street instead of stopping on her mark, waving her stuffed animal instead of her arm (and hiding her face in the process).

Here are some of photos of the shoot:


Setting up scene 1. More interesting than actual shoot.


Sean holding Doodle. Sean spent a lot of time down on that knee.

Reading 'Mid Chaos

2011-06-29T08:22:00.000-04:00

I had a Murphy's Law kind of morning yesterday. First, while watering my veggie garden, I stepped in dog poop. I had on the sneakers that I'd need to wear an hour later, to catch a train into Philly for a voice therapy appointment. The shoes had to be cleaned instead of answering work-related emails that really shouldn't wait.

When I arrived at the station, a train was pulling out as I got out of my car. I was 13 minutes early, so I deduced that the 9:03 was late. But my train, the 9:23, never came. Turns out that SEPTA changed the schedule 9 days ago. I called the therapist and asked if I could come in a bit late. The gist was, it was my dime, I'd get a shorter session for the same price. My voice needed the workout, so I took the next train.

I'd brought a new paperback to read on the commute. As I took a seat and opened the book, my mind was flitting from the work I'd wanted to get done that morning, to how short a session I'd be paying full price for, to "What else could possibly go wrong today?" My blood pressure was definitely above par.

Halfway through page two of the novel, I realized it just wasn't pulling me in. I decided, if the book wouldn't help me forget my troubles, I'd forget them by analyzing why the opening wasn't working for me.

Oddly enough, the story didn't begin at the beginning. The first scene was really the 3rd, then 2 chapters of flashbacks were needed to bring the reader up to speed. I saw why the author chose to start with that particular scene. It contained the essence of what made this murder different from every other one on the market--a character study of the victim presented through a description of the victim's house. The prose was well-written. Problem was, though, not much happened in those first pages. They were mostly descriptive detail.

I think most authors (myself included) like to imagine their readers sitting beside a cosy fire, with no place to go and nothing to do but read. We envision readers who come to our works with receptive minds, ready to sink into and mentally participate in our tales. We like to picture our novels being read straight through, so the reader only need be pulled into the action once. We don't envision hectic commuters, or people passing the time in doctor's offices and grocery lines, or even sleepy folks only awake enough to spend a chapter with us at bedtime.

I learned yesterday that I need to think of the reader as an outsider, peeking into my strange world, with the many concerns of their own world tugging them away. What are they looking for? Possibly just a few moments of escape.

You can't invite visitors into your garden, then insist they look at every pedal and leaf immediately. No matter how proud you are of your garden, that's no way to treat your guests. Make them comfortable and show them something interesting, with the promise of more to come if they stick around or come back later. Start with story, not details.

By the way, on my way home, I got soaked by a downpour. Today, I'm hiding out under my bed.

Peace,
Elena

Weeding

2011-06-19T08:29:00.000-04:00

THIS week I attacked the weeds in my flower garden. The word "weed" conjures in most American minds the image of dandelions (or marijuana, depending on your perspective). Like Miss Maggie in my novels, I don't mind dandelions, or the white blossoms of clover, or purple of ground ivy in my lawn. Adds interest to the relentless green of grass (much of my grass is off the crab variety, but it is green).

The worst of my weed archenemies are

-- morning glories - sure, they look pretty, but they cover the shrubs like kudzu, until every leaf below their canopies withers and dies for lack of sunlight,

-- deadly nightshade - while an appropriate vine for a mystery writer's garden, like the morning glories, it gets out of hand quickly. I'd also rather not tempt the neighborhood kids to taste the pretty red berries,

-- ragweed - the most vile and evil of my weeds. It lurks below ground, waiting until your back is turned, then sends up shoots that hide beneath, well, morning glories. Their pollen makes me miserable from August through late November each year, so even if I let the morning glories and nightshade grow, the ragweed must
be evicted, the sooner, the better.

This past week I also worked on rewriting an old manuscript. Weeding and rewriting are similar processes--the pulling out of the bad, ugly, and harmful to keep the flowers alive. Yet many of my writing students have no patience with rewriting. They think they're done right after planting.

What weeds can be found in a manuscript? The first choice of many people would be "adverbs." I liken adverbs to dandelions. Sure, they can be annoying, they can be rampant, but they aren't going to kill a piece of writing unless you let them take over. A reasonable amount of adverbs can even lend interest to your prose.

Poorly drawn characters are the morning glories of a story--characters who are, at best, unlikeable, and at worst, uninteresting. A reader who doesn't care what happens to the protagonist will put the book down. Bad characters can overshadow and kill an otherwise great work of fiction.

The ragweed of writing, in my opinion, is boring prose. Very rarely will you find one small, lackluster patch of narration in a book. Drab prose, allowed to take root, will often infest every page. Lots of writers will banish snooze-inducing paragraphs from their first chapters, yet don't weed as meticulously as the book continues.

I can't simply sell my house and leave every time the ragweed in my garden give me fits of sneezing. Readers (and editors) will walk away from a manuscript infested with weeds. Rewriting is necessary not only to the aesthetic beauty of the final product, but to its health and longevity as well.

Peace,
Elena

Just Visiting

2011-06-09T18:47:00.000-04:00

I had a nice spontaneous visit with a cousin the other day. Unusual for me. I don't get out much.

When my writing's going well, I lose track of time. I spend hours in front of my PC, or sitting with a notebook on my lap, getting words down. Even when I go out to an appointment or planned event, I'm anxious to get back to my writing. When I'm away, I feel like I'm slighting my Muse and to get revenge, she'll go catch a bus for Vegas or something.

When my writing's not going well, I feel like I ought to chain myself to my desk chair until I produce something. Even after my left brain overcomes the guilt and gets me out of the room, I usually don't go farther than to work in the garden or take a walk or grab a snack. Again, I feel like I don't want to be away if my Muse shows up ready to work.

Lately, the only times I've traveled farther afield is for grocery shopping and other necessary errands (which I try to do only one or two days a week, to save gas and carbon emissions). In this economy, vacations are few and far between. In the long run, though, I know this is counterproductive to writing. My best ideas are seldom found close to home or while staring at a computer monitor. Routine errands are, well, routine, with nothing to make me stop and say, "That needs to go into a book."

The latest novel in the Possessed Mystery Series, FEAR ITSELF, is set in my hometown. I was a bit wary of setting it there, in so familiar a setting. One's own backyard is rarely a place of discovery and a good story is, at its core, one person saying to another, "Listen to what I just found out." I purposefully went around my town "visiting" places I'd been to before, snooping here and there, seeing things I hadn't noticed before. For the Montgomery Cemetery chapters, I took several tours of the place, learning lots of history, legends, and terrific grave-robbing tales. I was especially grateful to our historic society for their moonlight tour of the cemetery last year so I could make my night scenes in the old burial ground authentic. The photo at the top of this blog is from that graveyard.

If anyone reading this is within driving distance of Montgomery Cemetery in Norristown, PA, they've got a tour scheduled on Sunday, June 26th at 2 pm, and a concert of Civil War songs on June 12th at 2 pm, to kick off the Civil War Sesquicentennial. For more information, click here.

As for me, I know I need to get out and visit places and people more, to keep my writing fresh. This month, that includes being a guest on other mystery blogs as well. Here are the links if you want to check them out.

Buried Under Books Blog: Don't Know Much About History

Maria Lima: Ignoring the One-Way Signs

I'll be at the "Birth of a Novel" blog next week and will post the link on a future blog.

Peace,

Elena

I Farm, Therefore I Am (a Santangelo)

2011-06-01T07:51:00.000-04:00

Bean plant and edible wild purslane

You may have noticed, my May blogs were scarce. I can blame this partly on FEAR ITSELF. The first month of a book's life is filled with signings, library talks and the like. But my May blogs were scarce last year, too. May is planting time.

The bell peppers, green beans, Genovese basil and beefsteak tomato plants have been in a week or more. This morning I finished up by putting in the kumato tomatoes and sweet basil. The first of the lettuce was harvested on Memorial Day, and my herbs are in decent shape, especially the oregano, chives, and sage (God bless 'em (see my last blog on superstitions)).


Purple sage flowers

Why do I do this? I could say there's nothing like vegetables fresh from the garden. It's true. I could point out that growing your own is economical. For the price of a pack of seeds per crop, I get a summer's worth of produce. This year I dried my own sweet basil and tomato seeds, and the lettuce reseeded itself, so the yield from those plants is free. Plus I give my extra plants to friends. If everyone did this, we could feed the world.

Really, though, I think farming's in my blood. On the 1920 U.S. census and on his WWI draft card, my Santangelo grandfather listed his profession as "farmer" even though he also made shoes and kept a small grocery store. When my father was growing up in the 1920s and '30s, his older sisters sometimes took him to New Jersey in the summer. They weren't after a vacation at the shore-- they were migrant farm workers, picking blueberries, peaches, whatever.

Lettuce

Almost all of my dad's seven siblings raised vegetables. My Aunt Marie also had an amazing concord grape arbor and made jam. My Uncle Louis was a professional farmer. Two of his sons still are. My dad's biggest compliment when I made good in the garden was "Now you're a farmer."

Of all the things I do--writing, singing, accounting, historical research, ranting about politicians--nothing gives me the same solid, wholesome feeling as when I'm growing something to eat. I feel connected to the earth and to a long line of my ancestors.


Beefsteak tomato

So, even though it means getting up before the heat of the day, to water everything, hoe up weeds, tie up vines, and maybe jury-rig ways to keep the neighborhood cats from digging up my plants, I'll keep up my little veggie/herb patch as long as I'm physically able.

When I farm, I know who I am.

Peace,
Elena

Don't Make A Will Or You'll Die

2011-05-13T13:56:00.000-04:00

Note: I wrote this especially for Friday the 13th. Blogger was down this morning. Coincidence? I think not.
My series protagonist, Pat Montella, would tell you that she inherited plenty of her family's Italian superstitions. Today being Friday the 13th, it's the perfect day to talk about them.

As you might expect, Pat and I grew up with the same superstitions. The Santangelos always began each New Year by eating pork the first thing after midnight, to bring us all luck in the coming twelve months. My dad's folks were farmers who planted their root vegetables on March 19th, so St. Joseph would bless the crop. And if you ever felt inspired to express your pleasure about someone's garden--"Look at those pretty roses!" or "My, the tomato plants are big this year!"--you always had to follow the comment with "God bless 'em!" Otherwise the plants might wither and die.

My mom told of how her grandmother would make a cross from silver knives and place it out at the end of her yard in the summer, so lightning would hit them instead of the house. Silver conducts electricity. Whether she knew it or not, she was making a lightning rod. Another thing Mom did was to bring home palm blessed by the priest on Palm Sunday and put a piece in each room of the house. This also was to protect the house from lightning. Interestingly enough, lightning actually did hit our house once. The only consequence was that it short-circuited the bathroom outlet. The bathroom was the only room with no palm. Call me crazy but I still keep a piece in each room.

The title of this blog? Yes, that was one of their superstitions, too.

All this said, my family didn't much believe in the Malocchio (that is, the Evil Eye. Mom used to pronounce it malorky. Other Italian Americans I know say maloiks). One of our neighbors down the block mounted a rack of real bullhorns on her garage. I never did find out why cow horns were supposed to be protection, but this particular women was certain that one of the neighbors on either side was giving her the Malocchio. I remember trying to explain the horns to my Pennsylvania Dutch friends.

Someone once gave me a necklace with a horn amulet, which I've even worn together with a crucifix. Doesn't hurt to hedge one's bets.

Peace, good luck and God bless,
Elena

Why Do You Choose Certain Authors?

2011-05-02T13:31:00.000-04:00

I attended the Malice Domestic Convention this past weekend. Malice Domestic celebrates traditional mystery literature, the kind Agatha Christie wrote, with bodies in the library and such. Nowadays, the definition is a bit broader, with bodies everywhere from Cabot Cove, Maine to the mean streets of LA, and around the world, but at Malice, you'll still find more whodunits than dark, gritty thrillers.

I could write pages about all the terrific fans and writers I met. I found some new authors, like J.J. Murphy who writes about Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table, and John Cullen, who deciphered Dame Agatha's handwriting and transcribed her writing notebooks.

Instead, I'll mention one discussion that got me thinking about why readers choose certain authors. We were talking about law mysteries. One lawyer friend of mine said she doesn't read them. She reads to escape and doesn't want to spend time in the same setting where she works. Then she admitted that she does read Margaret Maron's Deborah Knott series, saying "but she's a judge."

I thought about why I read the Deborah Knott series. Not for the law aspect. Maron's Carolina settings bring back to me the happy times I've spent vacationing and eating my way through that region. I like the character of Deborah. She's intelligent and down to earth, a person with whom I love to spend time. I like her big family and all their antics, all the brothers that I can't keep straight. The mystery plots are always good. Maron's prose is beautiful. If you took the courtroom scenes away, I'd still read the series.

Lisa Scottoline's novels have lots of "law" in them, but I read those books more because I feel at home in them. Mary DiNunzio's family isn't so different from mine. I understand their notion of food equaling love. And, having grown up in the Philadelphia area, the settings are familiar to me. I can even vividly picture the Federal Courthouse, because I did jury duty there. Lisa makes the "law" parts of her books interesting, but frankly, I don't choose her novels because of them.

Still, lots of readers probably do read law mysteries for the law in them, just like some readers pick up cat mysteries specifically because of the cats, or cooking mysteries because of the food. Yet, it's still important for authors to make their characters, plots and settings strong, to win over those readers not otherwise interested in their subject matter.

I had one fan this weekend say, "I don't normally like history, but I like your series," and another say the same thing about not usually liking ghosts in books.

That to me proves that what a lot of readers want is simply a good story. I'd be interested in hearing your opinion.

Peace,
Elena

It's Here!

2011-04-19T09:24:00.000-04:00

Yesterday copies of FEAR ITSELF showed up at my door. One of the high points in a writer's life is holding one of your books in your hands for the first time. This was an even than I expected because the books arrived a week early. Of course, for all writers, reality settles in the next day and you have to get back to work selling the things.

To that end: FEAR ITSELF is now available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and through the bookseller of your choice. Eventually, it will also be out as an ebook.

In the Never Fear Fear Itself Contest, I handled the final drawing this way. I wrote all the previous winners names on slips of paper and dropped the papers down the stairwell from my upstairs hall. The one that fluttered the farthest won.

The winner is Karen Mayers of San Bruno, CA.

Peace,
Elena

Too Many Hats

2011-04-11T07:31:00.000-04:00

I think I've posted before about a writer's need to be 2 persons when working on a project. One has to be creative, uninhibited and a bit zany. That's where the ideas come from, and the solutions, when you've painted your characters into a corner. The other must be a persnickety, no-nonsense editor, who finds the misspellings, typos and plot loopholes, and who reigns in the creative other half enough that the story stays believable.

When the project's done, even more personalities have to kick in. You need to be an outgoing salesperson to get that manuscript under the eyes of an agent or publisher. You need a back-pocket lawyer to assess each contract. You need a meticulous accountant who logs receipts and knows what goes onto a Schedule C (even if you don't do your own taxes, you have to know which receipts to keep, and be able to decipher a royalty statement).

The personality I've been the last few weeks has been the publicist. These days, even in the big publishing houses, no one's going to put many bucks or manpower behind promotion of your works. That is, of course, unless you're fairly famous already. THEN they'll publicize you. Yes, ironic that authors get too little publicity until it isn't needed anymore, but that's reality.

So writers need to do their own promotion. In recent years, it's become easier to do this online. First of all, you need a website, which is your homebase. Besides author, book and short story info, you can post photos, videos, excerpts, poems, recipes, games--anything that might be fun for the readers and can be tied back to one or more books or to you personally.

Sites like Amazon, BookTour, and GoodReads now all have author pages, letting you post your bio, photos, videos, events, and a link for your blog entries. These are like mini-billboards for your products, and can all be linked back to your website. I like the fact that I can list my events on BookTour and have them automatically appear on my home page.

Facebook is a great way to keep in touch with fans. You can post your events there and invite people, giving mere book signings more of a party atmosphere. You can post photos of your covers and videos of book trailers. You can have characters come out to play with fans.

Of course, you'll still have all the old-fashioned publicity chores--book signings/tours to organize, conventions to attend, business cards/bookmarks/postcards to have printed. I like to bring some kind of promotional item to conventions and signings, too. With my last novel, I passed out little pill bottles filled with M&Ms. For DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS, I taped English toffees and butterscotch to business cards. This year, I have mini Champagne bottles filled with bubble liquid. Within 24 hours, the Malice Domestic Convention ought to look like the set for the Lawrence Welk Show.

So I've been working on all of these things. When my FEAR ITSELF cover (above) showed up last week, promotion kicked into high gear. The great thing about doing publicity--updating your online sites, seeing your cover for the first time, hearing from fans that they're looking forward to the book--is that it keeps you excited, and that means you'll carry more energy into signings and to conventions.

The bad thing is that being your own publicist takes so much time away from writing.

Peace,
Elena

Answers to 3rd Quiz

2011-04-01T07:39:00.001-04:00

Here are the correct answers to Miss Maggie's 18th century quiz:

1. Elixir of vitriol was made from alcohol, "aromatics" (usually ginger or cinnamon), and sulfuric acid. Yum. Makes castor oil sound like dessert.

2. The general who led Continental troops down the Williamsburg peninsula, tailing British general Cornwallis was Lafayette. Washington was up north, keeping New York and Philadelphia safe while he coordinated the addition of French troops to the Continental ranks. He joined Lafayette 2 months later at Yorktown.

3. The 18th century anthology Pills to Purge Melancholy contained bawdy songs.

We have three winners: Lelia Taylor, Karen Mayers, and J. Haupin. They will each receive a free copy of the book of their choice by me and be entered in the grand drawing in late April for a free hot-off-the-press copy of FEAR ITSELF.

Peace,

Elena

Never Fear Fear Itself Contest #3 - Win a Free Book!

2011-03-20T08:45:00.001-04:00

Here you go: Quiz 3 of the Never Fear Fear Itself Contest. The 3rd novel in the Possessed Mystery Series is POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, a trip back in time to 1783 Williamsburg. In it, you'll find early American Yuletide customs such as mummers' plays, rum punch, and sumptuous dinners, plus a frightening look at medicine, then and now.

Send your answers to the quiz below, along with your full name, to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com. All entries who ace the quiz will be entered in a drawing to win the free signed book of their choice from the Possessed Mystery Series or DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS. If you have all 4 books already and can't think of anyone who'd like one as a gift, tell me that on your entry. Another prize will be selected for you. If no one aces the quiz, the person with the best score will win. Entries not selected in this drawing will be eligible for the next drawing. In April, I'll do a grand prize drawing for a signed copy of FEAR ITSELF, due out at the end of that month.

Only entries sent to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com will be eligible. Deadline for entries for the quiz below will be March 31, 2011. Winners will be announced April 1st.

1. A wealthy man walks into an apothecary and pays a shilling to see the doctor, who prescribes an elixir of vitriol, which the apothecary prepares for the patient. This elixir is made from alcohol, "aromatics" (usually ginger or cinnamon), and

a) camphor.

b) mercury.

c) sulfuric acid.

d) aloe.

2. When the British Army under General Cornwallis marched into Williamsburg on June 25, 1781, many of the residents, fed up with the long war, welcomed them. Meanwhile, they were followed at a distance by Continental troops under the command of General

a) Washington.

b) Lafayette.

c) Rochambeau.

d) Wayne.

3. The mystery novel Poison to Purge Melancholy takes its title from an 18th century publication called Pills to Purge Melancholy, which contained

a) a list of medications for depression.

b) herbal remedies for constipation.

c) chocolate recipes.

d) bawdy songs.

Peace,

Elena

Miss Maggie on First

2011-03-15T08:06:00.000-04:00

This week's weirdness is that I've been playing Wii baseball.

I've loved baseball since age 6 when I started watching Phillies games on TV with my dad. Every nice day after school, I'd go out to the back yard and throw a tennis ball against the porch step, trying to get it to hit just right, so it would bounce back to me and I could practice catching. I improved my skills enough that the boys in the back alley always chose me for their teams before choosing their brothers. Came as a hard blow to discover I couldn't aspire to be a baseball player because they didn't take girls. Since our town had no local women's softball team, my baseball career ended.

A couple weeks ago, I began reliving my childhood by playing Wii baseball (part of a scheme to get my derriere off my desk chair and get some exercise). When you play alone on Wii, the system gives you a team of different avatars (animated people). You bat for all of them. Each time I play, the system gives me a different set of people, so it's hard to think of them as a team. I did notice, however, that it always put my brother's avatar on my team as catcher. So I decided to create another avatar. And why create a character from scratch when I've got a bunch of series characters to choose from? So Miss Maggie, my 91 year-old sidekick character, became my first baseman.

The process of making an avatar is interesting. You can choose body types, face shape, hair and eye color, you name it. Of course, it gives you limited choices, so Miss Maggie had to settle for gray hair instead of her usual white. But I was able to give her a shirt that's greenish-yellow, her favorite color. The avatar doesn't really look at all as I picture Miss Maggie. Still, when I play baseball, there's now always a familiar face on first base, her reading glasses hanging from her nose, her wrinkled face frowning in concentration as she makes a catch.

You'd think, since I'm holding the controller, that the Miss Maggie avatar would act and play exactly like my own, but she doesn't. Don't ask me why. Maybe Wii adjusts for height (Miss Maggie's shorter than me), and probably my own subconscious adjusts for attitude. I do know that Miss Maggie is an amazing Wii jet skier. I can't even stay on the course.

The whole experience has begun to show me what I know and don't know about characters who have been living in my brain for 10 years. I'm in the process of creating a Beth Ann Lee avatar (to cover second base). Yet I'm not ready to do one of her father. I realized I don't even know what Hugh's favorite color is. Which means Pat doesn't know what his favorite color is. That gives me fodder for an argument in book five (insert evil laugh). As for Pat, I think I know her well enough to figure it'll take some coaxing to get her to play Wii Sports at all. She'd rather be in the kitchen.

I've named my Wii baseball team the Fightin' Compression Sox.

Go C-Sox!
Elena

Remember Thou Art Dust

2011-03-09T09:26:00.000-05:00

Mystery writers have to deal with death in their books. Ash Wednesday seems an appropriate day to talk about it.

I set the historical portion of my 4th novel during the week before Franklin Roosevelt was inaugurated in 1933. He stepped into office on Saturday, but had already begun changes by declaring a bank holiday the day before. Banks didn't open again until their books had been examined and approved--the first step to pulling America out of the Great Depression. By coincidence, two days before that was Ash Wednesday, the day Christians are supposed to remember their mortal nature. To me, this seemed a perfect tie-in for a murder mystery.

I'm guessing most mystery writers don't have much first-hand experience viewing violent death. I don't (and hope I never do). Quite possibly most writers haven't seen someone die at all. In these modern times, society has become quite efficient at hiding the act of dying behind the closed doors of hospitals and nursing homes, so people who don't want to see or deal with death, don't have to.

Until 2007, my only brushes with death had been attendance at viewings. Then, over the course of 18 months, I became a caregiver for my mom, then my dad. Both became hospice patients. Through some odd twist of fate, my aunt and 2 friends also became hospice patients at the same time, and an uncle a year later. So in the last 4 years, I've sat with 6 people who were actively dying. My dad and my aunt both died as I held their hands. My mom waited until we'd all gone out of the room. My mom was like that.

Hospice, I found, is more than just waiting for a sad event. Physically, of course, it's messy, but not as much as I expected. Philosophically, it can be rather beautiful, like walking a loved one out to the garden gate before sending them the rest of the way on their own. And surprisingly, you can find humor in the situation. In fact, caregivers who don't find humor in it will make themselves ill and everyone else miserable.

One thing, though, in all cases--keeping that final vigil with hospice patients made me think about my own mortality, but not in a scary or depressing way. In fact, the most unsettling part is wondering if I'd have someone to sit with me when I'm on my way out.

Hospice is in many ways a return to a traditional way of treating a dying person, all the more so when it's done at home. The first century of mystery writers--Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie--all of them experienced hospice with a loved one. I think all of their characters had a more grounded attitude toward death. In their books, death itself wasn't the enemy, evil was--the kind of evil that produces an untimely, unnatural, and uncomforting death.

In too many modern novels (and on TV and in the movies), death has become very two-dimensional. Dying has more facets, both for the victim and the survivors. I don't think it would hurt a few mystery writers to remember they are dust and to dust they shall return. After all, death is our ultimate mystery.

Enough of that. Time to go get soot smeared on my forehead.

Peace,
Elena

FEAR ITSELF Trailer and Answers to Contest #2

2011-03-01T08:43:00.000-05:00

Book trailers are becoming popular so I decided to make one for FEAR ITSELF. As an advertisement, it's not Superbowl worthy, but it's short, painless, and gives you an idea what you'll find in the book. The background tune is best described as Miss Maggie walking music (actually, the original 78 RPM version of "Brother Can You Spare A Dime.") Enjoy!

ANSWERS TO MISS MAGGIE'S 2ND QUIZ

The answers to the second Never Fear Fear Itself Contest quiz are

1. Sojourner Truth not only helped recruit black troops for the Union cause, but, after the Civil War, worked among freed slaves with the National Freedman's Relief Association. Besides that she often spoke about the plight of black women, and rights for all women. So the answer is D - All of the above.

2. I had it pointed out to me that my wording was poor in the second question. Joseph Rainey, of South Carolina, was the first African American elected to the House of Representatives in a general election (in 1870). Hiram Revels was the first black man to serve in Congress, as a senator from Mississippi, but he was appointed (earlier in 1870 than Rainey served). However, the Mississippi legislature held an election amongst themselves to choose Revels. Since I didn't specify "general election" in the question, I accepted both answers A and B.

3. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 prohibited states from imposing their own voting registration qualifications, so C is the correct answer. The reason this ended up giving more minorities the right to vote was because many states had enacted laws creating prerequisites to voting registration--such as literacy tests--to limit minority voting.

This month's winners are Suzanne Pontius and Penny Tuttle. Questions for Contest #3 will show up right here in mid-March. Study up on your Revolutionary War and pre-Constitution American history.

Down with tyranny, here and abroad,
Elena

Who Says What and How Often?

2011-02-21T10:06:00.000-05:00

I've written other blogs about voice, but I'm a bit obsessed by the subject this week. For one thing, I don't have much of a voice myself right now. Normal speaking tones feel like shouts in my throat. I tried to sing along with the song "Yesterday" on the radio last week. Paul McCartney could sing higher than I could. The longest I ever had to wait for a body part to heal was 6 weeks (a broken toe). I'm told my speaking voice will likely take 3-4 months to heal, and my singing voice could be 6 months to 2 years. And patience isn't one of my virtues.

Besides that, I've also been thinking about the way people speak because I'm working on rewrites for FEAR ITSELF. These particular revisions are the easiest kind--the sort where the proofreader tells me that I used certain words too often. All I had to do was search for those words, then decide if the word could be changed in each instance. Words repeated too often are a common problem of any first draft manuscript. While your brain is trying to get the story down, you don't always notice that you, for instance, put the phrase "even so" three times on one page.

But this time--since I have "voice" on the brain, and since one of my online mystery groups was discussing the overuse of cuss words in some books--I began to think of too-often used words and phrases in character terms. Not everyone in a book should curse and the ones who do shouldn't use the same words or phrases. Otherwise, it's difficult to tell characters apart. Shortened versions of certain words, like 'em for them, or 'cause for because, or 'til for until? Each of those might also be uttered by only one or two characters, to make the voices clearer and not overuse the words.

Unique phrases, especially, ought to be reserved for one voice. Tony Hillerman often used "so forth" at the end of a sentence after a comma (with no "and" before it). This never bothered me until he had more than one character say it. I'd come to think of it as the unique speaking trait of the detective. When another character said the phrase, I was pulled out the story. What if Agatha Christie had given "mon ami" to both Poirot and Hastings? It wouldn't have worked. Yet Poirot alone can say it often and it doesn't seem odd.

Even so, mon ami, peace, so forth,
Elena

Contest Quiz # 2 - Win a Nifty Prize!

2011-02-14T10:05:00.000-05:00

Here is Miss Maggie's next history quiz for the Never Fear Fear Itself Contest. The 2nd book in the Possessed Mystery Series is HANG MY HEAD & CRY, which deals with newly freed black slaves in the 1870s, voting rights of the 1960s, and intolerance in all eras. Since this is Black History Month, it ties in perfectly.

Send your answers to the quiz below, along with your full name, to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com. All entries who ace the quiz will be entered in a drawing to win the free signed book of their choice from the Possessed Mystery Series or DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS. If you have all 4 books already and can't think of anyone who'd like one as a gift, tell me that on your entry. Another prize will be selected for you. If no one aces the quiz, the person with the best score will win the book. Entries not selected in this drawing will be eligible for later drawings. I'll post a third quiz in March (bone up on your colonial history), then we'll do a grand prize drawing in April, which will be for a hot-off-the-press signed copy of FEAR ITSELF.

Only entries sent to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com will be eligible. Deadline for entries for the quiz below will be February 28, 2011. Winners will be announced March 1st.

QUIZ

1. The photo above is of Sojourner Truth, an escaped slave and revivalist preacher who

a. in her "Ain't I a Woman?" speech, spoke about the plight of black women, and right for all women.
b. helped recruit black troops for the Union cause.
c. after the Civil War, worked among freed slaves with the National Freedman's Relief Association.
d. All of the above.

2. Who was the first African American elected to the U.S. Congress?

a. Hiram Revels, of Mississippi
b. Joseph Rainey, of South Carolina
c. George Henry White, of North Carolina
d. Oscar De Priest, of Illinois

3. The Voting Rights Act of 1965

a. gave African Americans the right to vote
b. gave women the right to vote
c. prohibited states from imposing their own voting registration qualifications
d. gave Congress the authority to regulate the voting process

Good Luck!
Elena

On The Air

2011-02-07T10:10:00.000-05:00

Before I begin, I must mention that each week until my next novel, FEAR ITSELF, comes out in April, Miss Maggie will post an early 1930s video on her Facebook page. She has everything from Will Rogers to Mickey Mouse planned. Click on the link to the left to get in on the fun.

This winter has been relentless in its snow and ice storms, so I've spent most of my time at home the last month. I would have gone stir crazy weeks ago if I hadn't found a slew of old radio plays online.

Radio plays have so much to teach a writer, I could probably write 3 or 4 blogs on each aspect (and maybe I will). Unlike TV, radio dramas have no sets, costumes, props, gestures, facial expressions, or body language. They can't rely on simple visual action to convey plot. Radio plays are told mainly with words, and so they have more in common with novels than other types of media.

Still, radio plays shouldn't be confused with audio books. Radio plays, like the stage variety, employ several actors and at least one sound effects man. If you've ever watched a radio play performed live, you know sound effects is an art unto itself, and greatly enhances the telling of the story. But also, radio plays are often skillful adaptations of books or stage plays, or original plays themselves, made to fit into a half hour or one hour slot. They cut all the non-essentials out and hone in on the vital parts of a story. Some, of course, are more successful than others. I listened to an Orson Welles adaptation of Thornton Wilder's Our Town the other day that I thought worked beautifully. Last week, I heard a play based on the novel (not the musical) Showboat. That, it seemed to me, was too abridged. Though worth the listen because the author, Edna Ferber, played the part of the captain's wife, and was very good indeed.

Agatha Christie wrote radio plays. Her most famous stage play, The Mousetrap began life as a 30 minute radio play called Three Blind Mice (written in honor of the Queen Mother's Birthday), then she rewrote the plot into a short story, then into the two-act play from there. Unfortunately, it's pretty much impossible to listen to one of her plays online. However, a few of her books were adapted for radio. I highly recommend The Campbell Playhouse adaptation of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, in which Orson Welles plays both Hercule Poirot and Dr. Shepherd. Other mysteries under the link above include The 39 Steps, The Immortal Sherlock Holmes, and Rebecca (with a Daphne Du Maurier interview at the end). And don't miss the infamous War of the Worlds.

You can find a great apaptation of The Thin Man on Lux Radio Theater, as well as many good comedies and dramas. And for the hard-core mystery fan, try CBS Radio Mystery Theater.

I also must mention a modern-day radio program called Prairie Home Companion. You can hear it Saturday nights at 6 pm by tuning your radio to NPR, but you can also find the show's archives online at prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs. This is a variety show but writers ought to pay particular attention to the skits. It's amazing how they can weave elaborate and incredibly funny tales into a 4 to 10 minute time slot. Plus, their sound effects man is an artist. The video above is one of their "Lives of the Cowboys" skits and seemed especially appropriate to this winter. Enjoy!

Peace (and keep warm),
Elena

Contest Results and Working in the Real World

2011-02-01T10:34:00.001-05:00

First, I'm pleased to announce that 3 students aced Miss Maggie's Civil War quiz: Debra Eisert, Mary Chamberlain, and Helen Delano. Since we only had 3 star pupils, I've decided they each should win a free book. Look here for Contest 2 around the middle of February.

Working in the Real World

One of the first pieces of advice a novice writer hears from the pros is "Don't quit your day job." So what did I do last month? I quit my day job.

I've quit at least 4 jobs in my lifetime, yet all for non-writing-related reasons. This last time was because the job was effecting my health. Sometimes I've quit because I decided I can't work for people better suited to be the bad guys in my books. If you've read By Blood Possessed or any of my short stories set in offices, you know how I feel about the bad guys of corporate America.

Still, I'm not by nature a quitter. I've had a slew of other jobs, all temporary for one reason or another. Altogether I've been a retail clerk, school teacher, National Park guide, receptionist, data processor, and done every ilk of accounting, filing and other administrative jobs. Oh, and I've been a proofreader, too. My finest moment was proofreading a brochure for a sex therapy lecture given by Dr. Ruth herself.

My mother would say I still haven't settled down. Me? I think I'm the kind of writer who needs to glean experiences from different sources, then move on. Though, frankly, the need to pay pills tends to make me wait until I'm laid off or the job makes me physically ill or disgusted enough to quit.

I wrote By Blood Possessed while I was unemployed. Hang My Head and Cry was written mostly in the hiatuses between temp agency jobs. Poison to Purge Melancholy came together in the idle months before I took my last job. Book 4, Fear Itself, was written while employed, but at the time, I had a boss who understood that I have a vocation outside of office work.

At the moment, I'm not grieving over the loss of my job. With all the snow this winter, and the fact that my home parking spot is off of an alley that never gets plowed, it's just as well I don't have a compelling reason leave the house.

Yet I know, eventually, I'll get out there and start looking for gainful employment again. Not only do I have the need to pay bills, but this writer, anyway, can't write in a vacuum. It's not simply a matter of needing to observe human nature--I can go sit in a mall food court or ride trains in and out of the city to do that. The thing is, with each position I've had, I've been thrown in with a diverse group of individuals, from all walks of life. Some love their jobs. The majority, at best, only like their jobs. All are there because they must be or lose their livelihoods, and for some, their healthcare. All have different motives for needing to keep their jobs. A workplace, for a writer, is an encyclopedia of human psychology.

So when I say "Don't quit your day job" to a novice writer, I'm not merely commenting on the reality of most writers not being able to make a living from published works. I'm saying don't take yourself out of the real world. Your writing will suffer.

Peace,
Elena

Win a Free Book!

2011-01-21T09:18:00.000-05:00

The next novel in my Possessed Mystery Series, FEAR ITSELF, will be coming out in April. I want to celebrate by giving away a book a month between now and then, and I thought, what better way to find the most worthy fans than to let Miss Maggie give 3 of her famous history quizzes.

Miss Maggie is my protagonist's sidekick, Magnolia Shelby, a 90+ year-old retired history teacher and probably the most popular character in the series. She even has her own fan page on Facebook (check out the link to the left of this blog).

Here's the way the contests will work: Send your answers to first quiz below, along with your full name, to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com. All entries who ace the quiz will be entered in a drawing to win the free signed book of their choice from the Possessed Mystery Series. If you have all 3 books already and can't think of anyone who'd like one as a gift, don't let that stop you. Tell me that on your entry and another prize will be selected for you. If no one aces the quiz, the person with the best score will win the book. Entries not selected in the first drawing will be eligible for later drawings. I'll post another quiz in February and one in March, then we'll do a grand prize drawing in April, which will be for a hot-off-the-press signed copy of FEAR ITSELF.

Only entries sent to MissMaggieTests@gmail.com will be eligible. Deadline for entries for the quiz below will be January 31, 2011. Winners will be announced February 1st.

Since my first novel, BY BLOOD POSSESSED, was set in May 1864, the Civil War is the subject of the first quiz. Pencils ready! (Or should I say, start your Google Search Engines?)

QUIZ 1

1. Miss Maggie's Bell Run estate is on the southbank of the Rapidan, just downstream from Germanna Ford and upstream from Fredericksburg. The Union Army crossed the Rapidan near here for all the following battles except which one?

a) Chancellorsville
b) Gettysburg
c) Mine Run
d) Wilderness

2. The Commander of the Union forces for the Wilderness Campaign was

a) Meade
b) Hooker
c) Burnside
d) Grant

3. The Confederate general in command of the 2nd Corps at the Battle of the Wilderness had the nickname

a) Stonewall
b) Marse Robert
c) Old Bald Head
d) Peter The Slow

Good luck,
Elena

The Frog in My Throat

2011-01-16T08:42:00.000-05:00

I now have a scar coveted by pirates and mystery writers alike. My Sisters in Crime chapter said I need an elaborate story about how I fought off an attacker determined to slit my throat. My brother thinks I should simply state that the vampire wore braces. Either explanation is way more entertaining than just saying I had thyroid surgery.

So, unlike a lot of mystery writers, I've now had the experience of having my throat cut. Of course I slept through the actual cutting, so that's no help (not that I would have had it any other way, given a choice). I can tell you I woke up with a head and throat filled with fluid and had the sensation of drowning. Possibly I could write a good water-boarding scene from it. I was surprised that I could talk, albeit softly, with a sexy bullfrog-like rasp. I also now know how many different movements of the body require neck muscles. If they aren't working, getting out of bed is next to impossible.

I had time to contemplate, in those first 48 hours, what a faux pas of evolution the neck seems to be. I mean, the heart's protected inside the ribcage and the brain's protected inside the skull, but connecting the two is this narrow, vulnerable isthmus. Then again, it's a great design for craning above the herd to search for approaching predators or the nearest Starbucks.

Anyway, I have a new experience to work into my writing. And maybe I should get my next author photo taken before the scar fades.

Peace,
Elena

Happy New Year

2010-12-31T10:49:00.000-05:00

I'll be taking a hiatus for a few weeks. Let's call it research. I'll tell you about it when I get back. But, before I go, one last parody to bring in the New Year:

Should auld acquaintence be forgot
If not found on the 'net?
I've searched on Facebook, LinkedIn, too,
And haven't found one yet.
I've friended all my neighbors' kids
Though one of them's a brat;
I've "liked" my plumber, TV shows,
And photos of a cat.

So here's my url, my trusty friend,
Give me an url of yours,
Then we can meet in cyberspace
And play at Mafia Wars.
I'll read your blog if you read mine,
I'll post some family pix;
We'll reconnect through tweets and such
And share our YouTube flicks.

Happy New Year!
Peace,
Elena

AVISIT FROM ST. NICK, Finale

2010-12-24T07:54:00.000-05:00

For Part 1, click here.

For Part 2, click here.
For Part 3, click here.

A Visit From St. Nick

by Elena Santangelo

Final Installment

Led him to the kitchen and served up a plate,
He tasted it, snarfed it, then said, "Gee, it's late!
Just wrap up the rest‑‑I'll take it along."
His hands had stopped shaking‑‑he broke into song:

"The heck with the elf pipe, I've found a new vice,
God bless this falafel, it's sheer paradise."
I gave him the pot and a clean plastic spoon,
Then watched him fly off by the light of the moon.

The very next day I set up a website
For selling falafel, called "St. Nick's Delight,"
A homeopathic cure for addiction,
As well as every other affliction.

Now I'm so rich, an estate I inhabit,
And all from that night I broke Santa's bad habit.
Though I wonder if he didn't fake the whole thing‑‑
If this was the gift he'd intended to bring‑‑

So herein I thank him for my new career:
Merry Christmas, St. Nick, and a Happy New Year!

Happy Christmas to all, and to all,

Good Night,

Elena

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK, Part 3

2010-12-22T07:59:00.000-05:00

For Part 1, click here.

For Part 2, click here.

A Visit From St. Nick

by Elena Santangelo

Part 3

Then from behind me I heard St. Nick swear.
"You've ruined my pipe, and I don't have a spare.
I've only just started my work on this night,
And without my smokes, I can't make the next flight."

His hands started shaking, his gestures all jerky;
I regretted at once making him go cold turkey.
Not that I cared if small tots got their toys‑‑
They get bored too soon and make much too much noise‑‑

But one thing was sure if St. Nick called it quits:
There'd be no exchanges on day twenty‑six,
And the country's economy was already stinking;
This fat elf must finish his work, I was thinking.

I said I'd run out to Walgreen's for a patch,
And some Nicorette Gum‑‑I'd buy a whole batch,
But Santa said 'twasn't a nicotine fix
He needed; the elves made a herb mix:

"One pipeful can keep me alert through my trip
And make me quite hyper, to 'round the world zip,
But now the pipe's gone, so I'd much rather doze‑‑"
At that point, another smell entered my nose:

The scent of falafel that's done through and through;
Asked Santa to join me‑‑the least I could do. . .

Come back for the last installment on Christmas Eve.

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK, Part 2

2010-12-20T07:52:00.000-05:00

For those of you who haven't read Part 1 yet, click here first.

A Visit from St. Nick

by Elena Santangelo

Part 2

I presumed 'twas St. Nick by his costume and hat,
And his sack full of toys, and the fact he was fat.
From a pipe in his teeth, a dense smoke, it arose,
So I couldn't see much of his eyes or his nose,

But his white beard was stained a nicotine‑yellow,
And ditto his teeth when he bid me "Hello!"
But worse was the odor, which hit me full force,
For the smoke from his pipe was the absolute source.

The green swirling fumes did set me to choking,
Yet I managed to gasp, "Santa! What are you smoking?
Not that it matters, nor why you should do it,
You can't smoke in here‑‑That's all there is to it!"

And snatching his pipe from his droll bottom lip,
Away to the fish bowl, with breath held, I zipped;
I tossed the pipe in, then yanked my hands back,
So my pet piranhas could not on them hack.

The fish were unhappy with this new seaweed
And I promised them fresh meat in tomorrow's feed...

(Watch for Part 3 on Wednesday.)

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK

2010-12-18T10:27:00.000-05:00

I'll post this in installments, every other day for the next week, so if you want the whole story, you have to come back. And no, I won't apologize to Clement Moore. I think he would have liked this version.

A Visit From St. Nick

by Elena Santangelo

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Came odors pervasive, like a day‑old dead mouse,
And stockings in need of a wash in some Tide,
And body parts soaking in formaldehyde.

My five cats were nestled, all snug in my bed,
Breath smelling of tuna and goose pate spread,
But all that was normal as I in my cap
Settled my brain for a long winter's nap‑‑

When into my room came an odor so awful,
It gave me a craving for Truckstop Falafel.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
Tore open the chick peas and fried up some hash;

While it was sizzling, I opted to go
And find what that smell was‑‑I just HAD to know.
I looked out my window‑‑no skunks did appear,
But with my flamingos grazed tiny reindeer,

And a miniature sleigh was blocking my drive,
Which meant that St. Nick was soon to arrive
Or already had, so I ran to the den
Where my stocking hung next to the pit bull's playpen;

I hadn't a hearth; my chimney went straight
To my furnace‑‑heat rising through each hot air grate;
But that wasn't all that on this night arose,
From below came that odor to tickle my nose;

Then the grate was pushed back by an arm sleeved in red,
Which was followed by feet and a rump and a head...

(Stay tuned for Part 2.)

The Ravin'

2010-12-14T10:35:00.000-05:00

I'm late posting this month. Truth is, I've got a medical procedure scheduled for right after the holidays (I won't say more, other than, for a mystery writer, it's a very appropriate procedure), and right now I seem to be getting every virus that comes along. So I've been too preoccupied to write, or even to do much Christmas decorating and shopping. For my blog this month, I decided silliness is my best option. Enjoy!

THE RAVIN'
(apologies to Poe)

Once upon an Advent dreary,
While I wandered bleak and bleary
Over many a crude and crowded mile of department store,
As I wrest a roll of wrapping, energy within me sapping,
Tired of fighting all their trapping‑‑
Trapping me to spend some more.
"I won't buy but this," I muttered,
__ "wrapping at this blasted store‑‑
Only this and nothing more."

Only then did I remember 'twas the fourth week of December,
And each separate day did number‑‑to my horror‑‑twenty‑four;
No time could I beg or borrow,
Christmas day would come tomorrow,
Think how great would be my sorrow‑‑sorrow if the toys I bore
Failed to awe my radiant children‑‑
Would they think my gifts were poor
And so hate me evermore?

Suddenly my guilt grew stronger; I could shop a little longer,
Though to add debt to my credit cards already I'd foreswore;
Yet, I'd buy more than this wrapping:
PC games, opponents strapping;
Robot dog with ears a‑flapping, lapping water from the floor;
And a doll that does the mambo, for my youngest to adore.
That was it, though, nothing more.

Back into the maelstrom turning, all my guilt within me burning,
Soon again I heard the tapping as the sales clerk tallied more,
"Surely," I said, "surely this is...
Something in your store amiss is,
For, you see, each price that's here is
Twice as much as 'twas before."
But the sales clerk simply shrugged and
Waited for me to fork o'er;
Stood and shrugged, and nothing more.

Open there I flung my card fold,
Then retrieved my Master Charge Gold,
Warm still from my day of shopping,
Buying Christmas gifts galore,
Swiped my card the clerk then did he,
Shook his head, but not in pity,
Said my card was maxed out, that I couldn't use it, furthermore,
Stood and said, "I need another card
Or cash...or there's the door."
Told me that, and nothing more.

Startled by the words he'd spoken
(Could my credit line be broken?)‑‑
"Doubtless just a glitch of software
In the network of this store."
This I said to stem disaster, then to show him I was master,
Handed over Visa card‑‑its limit was a little more‑‑
Thinking, after holidays, I'd no more shop this horrid store.
No, never, nevermore.

Then the clerk commenced his swiping, as my brow I was a‑wiping,
Hoping that consumer confidence to me he would restore,
But the Visa was no charmed card‑‑
Sales clerk, summoning an armed guard,
Told him to politely discard me at nearest exit door;
Told him to remove my derriere from this department store;
I could come back nevermore.

Only now am I admitting, as bill payments I'm remitting,
Possibly my Christmas shopping went a little overboard;
With my credit, I'm not clever‑‑I'll be paying this forever,
Learned my lesson now, however, and will charge things nevermore;
(Yet the After‑Christmas sales are so good, how can I ignore?
Just this once‑‑then nevermore.)

Merry, merry,
Elena

Getting Your Books Out There

2010-12-02T15:47:00.004-05:00

Both my computer and I were out of commission last week, me with a stomach bug and insomnia, the PC with a sticky switch, a bad memory, and other age-related ailments. I take comfort knowing that something in my house is showing more signs of age than I am. Anyway, since writing wasn't an option, I worked on publicity.

Many unpublished writers imagine that the end of the writing process is seeing their books in print. Or if they think about selling their books at all, they imagine book signings where all they have to do is show up and smile. Someone else, surely, will make posters and do the advertising. And the readers would love nothing better than to skip a night of vegging in front of the TV to meet an honest-to-Pete author, right? They'll show up in droves.

Nothing is more discouraging to the finishing of a second novel than the realization that hardly anyone is buying/reading the first one. And chances are, as a first-time novelist, folks who've never heard of you aren't going to go out of their way to help you get that book under the noses of readers (at least until they read it and love it themselves). You've got to start thinking in terms of advertising, marketing, incentives, and name recognition.

I'm no expert on publicity. Even after 4 published books, I find I'm still experimenting with what works. Yet, I could probably write a year's worth of blogs on the subject. One thing I do know--you have to get out and meet your potential readers. Join your local Sisters in Crime chapter. Team up with other authors to do joint book tours and signing events. Volunteer at your local library or senior center to speak on a topic you know well. Go to one or 2 book conventions a year if your budget can stand it. Go anywhere you think potential readers will congregate.

Remember, readers hang out in cyberspace all the time. Join listserves like DorothyL. Get yourself a Facebook profile, at least, and actually post to it once a week--don't just let it sit there idle. You don't want readers who do find you to give up, seeing that the last time you posted was Christmas 2006. Network through it with other writers (though, be friendly--stalking will NOT sell your books). You can also list your events there and link them to your website. Put a Facebook badge on your website so you can be found.

Write a weekly blog on a topic you know well. Link it to your website and have it send an update to your Facebook page each time you blog. Use the site www.booktour.com to list your signings, then link that to your website.

These are just a few avenues of publicity open to the writer and these won't break the bank. They DO take some creative time away from your writing, but unfortunately, marketing isn't a luxury. The more creative you can be about it, the more you can keep to your budget and the more you sell.

My project this week? I put up a fan page on Facebook for my most popular character, Miss Maggie, called "Miss Maggie (Magnolia Shelby) & Friends." My intention is to post recipes from the books, my signing and speaking events, news about my next book, a link to this blog, and whatever else I can think of that might be interesting or series-related. The more entertaining I can make it--and the more active I keep it--the more fans I hope to pick up. If they haven't read my books, maybe they'll give me a try.

If you'd like to take a look at Miss Maggie's page, click here or on the badge in the lefthand column. You don't have to be a member of Facebook to browse through it.

Enjoy!

Peace,
Elena

THEN & NOW: Cholera & Other Lessons

2010-11-18T16:55:00.007-05:00

The novels of my Possessed Mystery series all have 2 plots: one modern mystery and one mystery set in some era of history. The stories are somehow related and come together at the end of each book. I've been asked why I do this rather than write straight historical mysteries or straight modern-day mysteries. I've actually be penalized for doing so--I'm told that my books don't qualify for awards given to historical novels. And publishers' marketing departments hate them, because they're not like what everyone else is writing, making them difficult to categorize.

I also put ghosts in my novels, and some readers assume the second historical plot is there to accommodate the paranormal aspect of the book--to explain the ghost's background. Matter of fact, the reverse if true. The ghost is there to connect the two stories, and to help teach a little history in a way that's more fun than a recitation of dry facts.

So why go to the trouble of two stories?

Last night, PBS News reported on the Haitian cholera epidemic and how many Haitians are blaming U.N. Napalese peacekeepers, saying these foreigners brought cholera to their country. Some of their protests have turned violent.

My first thought was: Duffy's Cut.

In late June 1832, Irish immigrants, some no older than teenagers, were hired at the docks and brought to Chester County, PA, to work on the construction of the railroad. Their foreman, Phillip Duffy, was in charge of filing in a ravine between two hills so that track could be laid. 57 of them were assigned to live in a single large shanty. Within 6 weeks, all 57 were reported dead of cholera.

Three years before, a cholera pandemic had begun, probably in India. It spread west through Europe to America, reaching New York by 1832 and the Pacific by 1834. Philadelphia was hit hard the summer of 1832. Many fled the city for the surrounding countryside. At the time, no one knew cholera was caused by bacteria in contaminated water. As shown on the 1830s notice above, the disease was thought to be caused from excesses of alcohol and from eating raw vegetables and unripe fruit. In addition, to the Protestants of the Philadelphia countryside, Irish Catholics were believed, not only by nature of their assumed drinking habits, but by their very religion, to be agents of infection.

Back to the young men of Duffy's Cut. Considering their deplorable living conditions, and with a pandemic of cholera already hitting the Philadelphia area, it's no wonder that by mid-August, a few of the workers came down with the disease. The rest of the workmen left the shanty, seeking food and shelter at houses up on the hills. Reports said they were all turned away and they returned to the ravine, where it was said that they all contracted and died from the disease. Most were buried in a mass grave. The niggling loophole in this story is that cholera never kills 100% of its victims. Like any pandemic, some people have better immunity than others.

Just recently, an archeological dig in the area has unearthed the remains of several of the young Irishmen and the forensic evidence tells a different story. Many died from violence. At least one skeleton showed signs of being attacked with something like an ax. Another has what might be a bullet hole in it. The current theory now is that the inhabitants of those hills did more than turn away the Irishmen. Given their fear of the disease coupled with prejudice against Irish Catholics, its likely that the residents violently forced the men back down into the valley, and possibly murdered the survivors.

So last night, when I listened to reports of Haitians blaming foreginers for their epidemic, and getting violent about it, I see the same mix of fear and prejudice. I see a repeat of history--a lesson unlearned.

A historical story can be fascinating. A modern story touching on the same human failings gives the historical story relevance. Juxtapose the two and hopefully we learn something. That's why I do it.

By the way, I first heard of the story of Duffy's Cut through an old local legend that said the ghosts of the workmen had been seen dancing a jig on their grave. Interestingly enough, the Immaculata University prof who spearheaded the excavation did so after seeing odd lights that looked like human beings jumping around one night downhill from one of the college buildings. He didn't realize it at the time, but Duffy's Cut was located at that spot.

Peace,
Elena

Variety: the Herb of Life

2010-11-10T11:01:00.004-05:00

We had our first frosts in the last couple weeks, so I harvested my herbs in a hurry and now they're drying on the dining room table or spread out on trays in the freezer. Good crop this year: basil, oregano, peppermint, spearmint, chives, sage, and coriander seeds.

The main character in my novels, Pat Montella, loves to cook. Her 90+ year-old sidekick, Miss Maggie, loves to eat. She also needs a low salt diet (as do I). Pat and I think alike--who needs salt when so many herbs are available and offer so much variety in taste?

Pat and I both like to watch cooking shows. This time of year, as I'm bottling dry herbs and I'm doubly aware of all the wonderful aromas, I'm particularly appalled by the amount of salt TV cooks dump into their concoctions. They all make special reference to it (much more so than they do pepper), and they all have a slew of rationalizations for using it. I'm beginning to suspect that they all take kick-backs from the salt industry. I watch these chefs taste their results and roll their eyes in ecstacy, but all I can taste in my imagination is salt.

Quite a few of those so-called cooking experts only use herbs as a garnish. Me? I'd rather make a great salt-free chicken soup with all the Scarborough Fair herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme), and only garnish it with parmesan cheese. Or tomato sauce with fennel, oregano and basil. Or cheese biscuits with chives and dill. Or pizzelles (waffle cookies) with anise.

In mystery writing, you'll also find lots of so-called experts touting lists of must-haves you need to put into your story. A body on page one (or at least in the first chapter). A shoot-out. A chase of some sort. Sex. More sex. The hero getting beat to a pulp, yet still fending off 6 hulky bad guys. More sex.

Good stories must have energy and action and a bit of drama, yes, but they don't all have to taste the same. An interesting poison is a nice break from shootings and bludgeonings. A battle of wits can be more suspenseful than a car chase. Anything done too much is dull and detracts from the plot--even sex.

The more alike stories are, the more boring they are. Like a diet where all the food tastes of salt.

Peace,
Elena

The Reader as Chump

2010-10-27T07:43:00.004-04:00

Watching political ads this month has put me in a mood to discuss deception & manipulation.

If Agatha Christie had written campaign ads for Wendell Wilkie, FDR would never have won in 1940. She was an absolute master at deceiving her readers. She'd tell you almost right out who the murderer was in the first chapter, then have a grand time strewing misleading clues and outright lies in your path. At the denouement, her readers frantically flip back to the beginning, and, voila, there's the main clue, now seeming to blink in neon light. A sore forehead is a symptom of a Christie fan, because you can't help smacking yourself when she tricks you.

Another excellent study in the placement of clues is the movie "The Sixth Sense." I can't say more without giving it away. If you saw it, you know what I mean. If not, treat yourself. Put padding on your forehead first.

The difference between mystery writers who can achieve the "Why didn't I see that?" reaction and those who can't seems to be sheer chutzpah. Lots of writers I know are afraid to plant an obvious clue. Maybe they're thinking in terms of giving the reader a nice puzzle to solve. I have nothing against puzzles. One of the main reasons I buy a Sunday paper is for the crosswords and sudokus. (The other? The comics.) And I have a closet full of jigsaw puzzles that I piece together during the winter months.

Still, as much as mystery readers love solving puzzles, they also love matching wits with the detective. Hardcore mystery readers tend to be intelligent and savvy. If we writers don't send our readers off after red herrings--if we don't come right out and lie to divert attention--our sleuths may end up looking pretty stupid.

But unlike politicians, if we're going to deliberately mislead the reader, we have to play fair. We have to show the solution or the path to the solution early on. And frankly, once I plant that obvious clue, I have all the more fun being deceptive through the rest of the story.

Learn to lead a merry chase and your readers will love you.

Don't forget to vote next week.
And don't believe anything you hear.

Peace,
Elena

Learning from the Unexpected

2010-10-19T16:00:00.005-04:00

Last week I had a little unexpected adventure, which began when I swooned at IKEA.

I say "swooned" for want of a better word, because I learned from a doctor the next day that "passed out" clinically means that the body completely loses muscle control. You end up on the floor, your head "bounces." His word, not mine. Since my brain still had enough wherewithal to keep me in my chair, I did not pass out. I will never use that term casually again.

But I did lose about 2 minutes of consciousness. I've read in novels where the hero wakes "what seems ages later" (or some such) after being conked out. Me? I didn't think time had passed at all--or maybe a second or two, tops. My first words to the friend I was with were to ask why she was yelling at me. Then I noticed 4 IKEA employees around me. Okay, they couldn't have run over to me that fast, so it dawned on me that I'd missed something, especially when one said paramedics were on the way. I've made 911 calls myself--it takes a little time to answer the operator's questions. I found out the brain doesn't like minutes it can't account for--it muddles the internal clock much like daylight saving time.

After that I had my first ambulance ride, my first experience as a patient in ER, even my first overnight hospital stay. I mentally took notes. Most fascinating, I think, was how different all the hospital corridors looked from a gurney or wheelchair. I've gotten a slew of routine tests done at this hospital, visited lots of patients, and gone Christmas caroling there the last 30-plus years, yet I had a hard time getting oriented. Sure, this was mostly because they took me down staff-only elevators, but I'm sure part of it was my perspective, and my anxiety about what the next test would involve.

You can bet I'm going to use that in a book someday.

A few other observations:

Even hospitals have to be educated as to what constitutes a gluten-free meal.

When you're under orders to call the nurse if you need to get out of bed, why do they keep putting your phone, tray table, books, etc., out of reach?

Who comes up with the patterns on hospital gowns? They are not psychologically empowering. I suppose they don't want your self-esteem to be so good you'll question the nurses' authority, but wouldn't we all heal faster if we didn't feel ugly?

Luckily, my swooning was only a result of a reaction to a medication. Unhappily, the experience will cost me a chunk of my savings. Still, I had the chance to do a little unexpected writer's research.

Peace (and good health),
Elena

Writers Helping Writers

2010-10-10T16:03:00.005-04:00

When I began hanging out with mystery writers, the one thing that absolutely floored me was how nice they are. Not kidding. A real bunch of sweeties.

There I was, the complete naive newbie, yet writers like Gillian Roberts, Charles Todd, Polly Whitney, Lisa Scottoline, Elizabeth Peters, and too many others to name here--who didn't know much more about me than that I wanted to write--took the time to point me in the right direction.

They all taught me the most valuable lesson: that writers help each other. I remember Polly Whitney saying, when I'd thank her for advice, "Just make sure you pass it on someday."

This is why I began this blog last year, to pass it on.

I'm a member of Sisters in Crime, an organization of mystery writers, readers, booksellers and others in the business. They've elevated the idea of writers helping writers to a national scale. In my local Delaware Valley chapter, our authors lead workshops for novice writers. We organize book signings and tours and library panels to show off our published authors. Once in a while, we'll put together an anthology of short stories to teach our new writers about the editing process, publishing and promotion.

And frankly, it also helps to hang out with other writers simply to get out of the house, away from your writing and rejections once in a while. A writer's life can be lonely and sometimes discouraging.

If you're a writer, whether published or not, get out and network. Go to conferences, join a local writers' group, or a Sisters in Crime chapter. If you're in the Philadelphia area, check out Delaware Valley Sisters in Crime (or just email me from my website and I'll send you info about them).

Talk shop once in a while. It's good for you. And if you learn anything, pass it on.

Peace,
Elena

SUBPLOTS

2010-09-30T10:59:00.003-04:00

I posted a fortnight ago about the new TV season. Now, two weeks into it, I realized what I love about the show Chuck. The plotting.

The main plot is always some sort of spy story--whodunit, howdunit, howcatchem, whatever. There's always a great moment of epiphany that allows the protagonists to solve the case. We mystery fans LOVE great moments of epiphany. Put in the action, danger and suspense, and that's all you need, right?

But Chuck always has a great comic subplot, too, usually having to with the quirky sidekick, Morgan, and the big box electronics store that's the home base setting for the series. Yes, these comic plots are usually completely off the wall, sometimes bordering on Three Stooges humor, often going off into Get Smart farce. But hey, they make me laugh. And like Shakespearean comedy, they provide relief whenever the main plot and the love story have to get serious.

The love story? An ongoing subplot between the two protagonists, Chuck and Sarah. Several other series characters also have their own subplots. This week, I counted three subplots in addition to the main and comic plots. Five tales, all within 43 minutes of storytelling. And not one of the plots was disappointing or felt like extra weight.

Balancing subplots is a tightrope walk. You have to move from one to the other smoothly. You have to tie up all the extra loose ends created by them. You can't spend too much time on subplots and make the main story weak. One other show last week did just that, trying to catch the viewer up on all the individual character lines, but failing to bind those stories together with a main plot that was suspenseful and satisfying. Even the subplots were anemic in their development.

My Possessed novels each contain a present-day mystery and a historical mystery as main plots, but I'm often asked about the character subplots. Will Pat and Hugh get together? Will Miss Maggie survive her nineties? Will Beth Ann ever become a psychic sleuth in her own right? And since it's fun to give each of my suspect characters a secret, that creates another possible subplots to be resolved. In POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, I actually had to cut one subplot because the book was getting too long.

As a mystery reader, I hate books that are too thin plot-wise (especially if they aren't physically thin). Give me my money's worth. If I slap down fifteen to thirty bucks for a novel, it had better be stuffed full of good stories. I should come away wanting more NOT because the plate served to me was nearly empty. Rather, a great novel ought to be like a yummy dinner with an array of tasty side dishes. If I enjoy every bite, I'll be back.

Peace,
Elena

A Parody For My Sisters & Brothers in Crime

2010-09-24T14:19:00.004-04:00

(Messrs. Bernstein & Sondheim probably had days like this but I'll apologize anyway. Sing to the tune of "Tonight.")

To write, to write,
I don't have time to write;
To write I need at least half a day.
My home's a fright,
My budget's always tight
Things to fix, stuff to clean, bills to pay.

To write I need some peace and quiet,
Good sleep and healthy diet,
(So still my screen is white).

Oh, brain, ignite;
Ignore email and each social site.
Just write!

To write, to write,
When will I ever write?
My day job takes up hours each day,
I'll write tonight,
I'll leave work while it's light
And I'll hash out the plot on the way.

I'll wait until my family's sleeping
Late hours I'll be keeping,
Until this story's right.

Oh, Muse, alight,
Don't make my late night prose sound too trite,
But write!

Peace,
Elena

The Writer on TV

2010-09-19T07:18:00.003-04:00

Next week a new season of network TV begins. I admit to an addiction to a few good shows: Chuck, Bones, and Castle.

I grew up watching a slew of great mystery/spy shows--Nero Wolfe, Ellery Queen (photo), both the Man and Girl from U.N.C.L.E. (why was he a "man" and she a "girl"?), Get Smart, The Avengers, MacMillan & Wife, Burke's Law, Ironsides, The Rockford Files, and later on, Matlock, Murder She Wrote, Magnum P.I., The Scarecrow & Mrs. King, and Cagney & Lacey.

What did they have in common? A good story, a little (or a lot of) humor, characters, directors and writers who didn't take themselves too seriously, who knew how to play. How to be creative.

But today's blog isn't about those old shows. It's about how mystery writers are portrayed on TV.

In Castle's opening, we always hear how writing pays better than crime. I'm always tempted to hit "mute" on that part. The writer lives in an apartment or condo bigger than most houses, presumably in Manhattan, since he never seems to be late because of being stuck in a tunnel or on a bridge. In Manhattan, living space that size probably doesn't exist, but if it does, you'd run through a cool million each quarter renting it. Even that I can overlook--maybe Castle inherited his bucks from his family--but what's most unbelievable is his lack of books. The writers I know (self included) have books lying around everywhere. Boxes of your own books for promos, stacks of novels other author gave you, stacks of freebies brought home from conventions, stacks of research books, and stacks you actually want to read for pleasure. The realistic thing about him is that he hangs out with other authors. He plays poker while he talks shop. My writer friends and I eat.

Jessica Fletcher and Ellery Queen are probably most like writers I know. Their wardrobes were (for the most part) modest. I don't remember much of the Queen household, but Jessica's digs were small and cozy. But I don't remember stacks of books with either of them, or piles of research materials, or even a handy dictionary or thesaurus next to their typewriters. I do recall Jessica standing in front of a bookshelf for one of her author photos, but the books behind her? No modern mysteries, no torn, sensational jackets, no paperbacks, not even a tome on forensics or bullet calibers or undetectable poisons.

Most true-to-life about all TV mystery writers is how they avoid writing. Of course, they do it by solving murders--the rest of us avoid writing by, say, cleaning out the garage. But the sentiment is the same. Said best, perhaps, on one Castle episode where he answers the phone with something like "Please tell me there's been a murder or I'll have to write."

Happy viewing,
Elena

Happy Birthday, Dame Agatha!

2010-09-15T07:07:00.008-04:00

AGATHA CHRISTIE was born 120 years ago today. Too bad she couldn't join us for her celebration, but I'm guessing, at 120 years, she wouldn't be able to eat much cake and ice cream anyway. Still, we can raise a glass or two to the legacy she left behind.

Lots of folks will be extolling Christie's novels today. Let me be the one to say a word about her short stories. She wrote more than 160 of them, and some, in my opinion, show her best writing. If you haven't had the pleasure, try these collections:

WITNESS FOR THE PROSECUTION -- A varied collection of stories widely touted to be Christie's best. If you've never read a Christie short, start with these.

PARTNERS IN CRIME -- Sleuths Tommy & Tuppence Beresford learn the art of detecting from the best fictional detectives of the day. Christie's funniest writing.

THE MYSTERIOUS MR. QUIN -- Stories with a touch of the paranormal, featuring Mr. Harley Quin and Mr. Satterthwaite. The latter went on to help Poirot with a couple cases.

MR. PARKER PYNE, DETECTIVE -- A government statistician turns private consultant. Both Miss Lemon and Ariadne Oliver make their debuts in this collection.

THE TUESDAY CLUB MURDERS -- Miss Marple's only full collection.

THE LABORS OF HERCULES -- In my opinion, the best Poirot stories and some of Christie's finest writing.

~~~

For a complete list of Christie's short stories and collections, and more information about each story, check out DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS.

Happy Birthday, Agatha, and many, many thanks.

Elena

The Author As Cover Artist

2010-09-11T07:07:00.009-04:00

One of the questions I'm always asked is some variation of "How much input do you have in the cover designs for your books?"

The short answer is, most authors have no say at all. Often we'll get a mock-up of the cover a couple of months before the book is published. By that time it's too late--they can fix a misspelling of the title or author's name, but the art is set.

I saw the cover for the hardback edition of BY BLOOD POSSESSED the day my first author's copy arrived. The cover design I'd been shown earlier--the design that went into the catalog--was very different from what ended up on the book. Thing was, my editor had specifically asked me to change the title to "something that tells the reader this is a mystery novel," and I'd driven myself insane until I'd come up with one. Good thing, because the cover art wasn't mysterious at all, just a person looking out of a window.

In HANG MY HEAD & CRY, the hardback design was much better, with a girl looking out through doorway to a dream image of a Civil War cannon. Problem was, the book wasn't about the Civil War and had no cannons in it.

Bella Rosa Books publishes the trade paperback reprints of the above novels, as well as my Christie short story companion, DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS. They do ask for my input and I think their covers are much more indicative of what you'll find inside. DAME AGATHA is, I think, an especially lovely cover and I've received many compliments on it (see photo above).

A few weeks ago, for the first time, I uploaded a previously published short story to the Amazon Kindle Store. I got to the part of the form that said "upload cover image." Whoa! I had to come up with a cover? My first few uploaded images weren't great (though they are suggestive of the story), but I've gotten creative since. Here are a few samples:

My software's primitive and my brain is more geared toward music than art, so I'm not thinking of a new career. But I'm having fun with it. And isn't fun exactly what the creative mind craves? Plus I get a real sense of satisfaction knowing that's my mirror, my locket, and that I took that photo.

So far, ten of my short stories are now available for Kindle, each for less than the price of a dollar hotdog at a Phillies game. Tell your friends to stock up.

Peace,
Elena

Old Faithful

2010-09-04T07:48:00.004-04:00

August was the month where I reconnected with an old, dear friend. I've come to realize that I was a fool to shun this relationship, but what can I say? Like so many others, I thought I wanted sophistication. I was seduced by power. I thought more and more money equaled more and more desirability. I was so wrong.

I don't care who calls me old-fashioned, I've returned to my roots. I've resurrected my fondness for...the notebook.

Yes, you heard me. Not the mini-computer of the same name. I mean the kind of notebook with lined, blank pages that just beg you to scribble on them.

Okay, so I'll admit my age here--when I started writing, the only computers were big hunks that took up entire warehouses. One summer--I was maybe 13--I found a pristine steno pad lying around the house. (Footnote to youngsters: a steno pad is a small notebook bound at the top.) My parents said I could have it (if Ma had known what it would lead to, she'd have given me a prescription pad instead). I started writing all kinds of stuff in that tablet--sappy poetry, a corny musical, the beginning of a mystery story.

When I filled that pad, I procured another (I don't remember how). I kept writing. I switched to sidebound, college-ruled notebooks, so I could fit more inside, but I still liked the small size. By high school, I had one notebook for stories and another for poetry and adolescent angst (i.e. venting about life). My favorite places to write were out on the porch on nice days or up in my bedroom before sleep. In college, I kept at least one notebook in my nightstand all 4 years.

As soon as I got a job after graduation, though, even before I bought a car, I treated myself to a Commodore 64 (to youngsters: It's a computer. Really. 64 stood for "K" RAM. No hard drive.
Hamsters probably have more mental capacity). I never admitted it to anyone, but I bought that sucker so I could write more. I pictured pretty printouts of my stories and no writer's cramp.

But I STILL kept a notebook. No way could I lug the 64 with me everywhere I wanted to write. I still loved working on the porch. I belonged to a swim club and, despite the splashing and noise, I wrote there. Evenings, I'd type my notebook scribbles into the 64. I actually finished two novel-length mysteries (albeit definitely student works).

Even after I switched to a PC, I kept to my notebook method. For my first published novel, BY BLOOD POSSESSED, I'd get up early, and write in my notebook for 2 to 4 hours. Then I'd get breakfast, go upstairs and type in what I'd written, doing a first-pass edit on it. Sometimes I'd do research in the afternoon and evenings, or I'd write more in my notebook. I kept a steady flow of words going this way and got that first draft done in a little under 4 months.

A few years ago, I got a laptop. Okay, I thought, now I can write anywhere. Thing is, I didn't. My writing slowed down considerably. I just couldn't seem to visualize and get the story down. I felt like I had less time to write, and when I did have time, I couldn't seem to be creative. At the same time, I was dealing with things like aging parents, so I diagnosed the problem as stress.

A couple weeks ago, I went on a writing retreat (see my blog RETREAT). I had to bring my laptop, of course. While I was grocery shopping for food to bring, I saw and fell in love with the puppy in the photo. And the cool thing was, he was on the cover of a small, college-ruled notebook that cost a mere buck, forty-nine. I adopted him on the spot.

On the retreat, I went back to my notebook-first method. And I averaged about the same number of words per day as I did on BY BLOOD POSSESSED.

Since I've been home, I'm not quite as prolific, but when I make myself use that notebook, I find I'm writing more and better. Something about a plain lined page and mechanical pencil stimulates my mind more than a keyboard and glowing screen.

I named the puppy Scratch.

Peace,
Elena

"Worthy" of Publication?

2010-08-28T09:09:00.004-04:00

Another question from a pre-published writer:

How do you know if you have a story worthy of bringing to a publisher? What steps should be taken prior to contacting publishers?

The first is a question rarely asked by writers. I mean, isn't everything we write brilliant? Why bother going to the trouble of writing it down if it's unworthy? And hey, in our own minds, at least, it's better than half of what's on the market, right?

Any story that really is a story--that has a beginning, middle, and end, where the characters are changed and developed by what happens--any story is worthy of being shared with others, regardless of whether you bring it to a publisher or spam your friends' email with it. What makes it unworthy isn't the story itself, but the way it's presented.

1. BORING IS BAD - I've said before, good storytelling is vital. Create a great narrative voice, don't be trite, don't be lackluster, don't use drab words.

2. SLOPPY IS BAD - Check your spelling and grammar and punctuation. Format your manuscript so that it follows industry standards and is easy to read (see my June 8, 2010 blog on formatting). If you have to hand in a printed manuscript, make sure it's CLEAN--no printer splotches, no coffee stains, no crinkled pages.

And, under the last heading, let's also consider research. With the Internet and a little common sense (like not believing everything you read on Wikipedia), there's no reason anymore for sloppy research. The last thing you want your readers or a potential agent or editor to realize is that you don't know what you're talking about.

3. INCONSISTENCY IS BAD - This goes with sloppiness, but covers everything else. Spell your character and place names the same on every page. Don't put three steps up onto the porch in one scene and four in another. Don't start your narrator with a Southern accent only to have it morph into a British accent. Make sure the headings of each chapter look the same--that is, don't capitalize some and not others, and make them the same number of blank spaces from where the text begins each time.

What steps should you take prior to querying a publisher? Proofread your manuscript for all of the above over and over again. Have at least two other proofreaders do the same, people who'll be 100% honest with you--not just love ones who don't want to hurt your feelings. If anyone comes back with the comment, "Your story was...um...interesting," recognize that this is NOT a
compliment.

Only when your story is spotless and tight and engaging should you even think about a publisher. Then you need to research which publishers are right for your work, and which editors at each publisher handle your genre. Find out if they only look at agented manuscripts. If so, you have to research which agents represent your type of work. Fortunately, you can find directories of publishers and agents at almost any local library and on the Internet.

Next you need to write a query letter to the agent or editor to pitch your story and tell who you are and what experience you have. The query letter also can't be boring or sloppy or inconsistent. In fact, the query needs to be even more exciting than your story. Your letter is often one out of maybe hundreds that an editor will read in a week. You have to stand out.

This sounds like too muck work. Why do we writers keep torturing ourselves this way?

Peace (and good luck),
Elena

RETREAT? Or Charge Ahead?

2010-08-21T08:05:00.004-04:00

I wrote this yesterday morning. I did take a walk this morning. We'll see how long that lasts.
___

I’m sitting here, on my last morning of summer camp.

One of the authors I know has a small house down near Delaware Bay, surrounded by preserved farmland and tiny villages that haven’t changed in over two hundred years. You can’t get a cell signal here, or connect to the Internet, or even tune in the Phillies games on the radio. The sound of a car on the road is rare. The chorus crickets and locusts, with an occasional by songbird or bullfrog solo, are often the only sounds for miles.

This friend invited me and another writer down to her place this past week for a sort of writers’ retreat. Most mornings, I got up with the sun and took a quiet walk down the road (nice and flat, with no tiring hills like my neighborhood). We all spent mornings and afternoons writing, getting our own breakfasts and lunches, then we’d cook supper together (no slackers we— for example, chicken with peppers and apricots one night, fresh ratatouille and lean grilled burgers another, and no dearth of yummy Jersey tomatoes and ice cream). Evenings usually meant another walk, or a chat out on the screened in porch, then more writing before bed.

I got loads of work done, easily ten times my usual output over 5 days. But now I’m about to go home.

I saw a item on the news a week or two ago about a drug rehab clinic in one of the worst neighborhoods of a city. The guy who ran the place said he noticed that when people from his neighborhood were sent away for rehab, most did fine until they came home again. Then they’d get in with the same crowd and revert to all their old bad habits. So he opened his clinic right in the middle of the neighborhood, to help his patients deal with every day life.

I was thinking this morning that this can apply to all sorts of other activities besides drug rehab. People used to go to spas to diet and improve their health, only to come home and get stressed all over again, and rip into Sara Lee cheesecakes for breakfast.

Me? Well, I’ll bring home a slew of good intentions to walk each morning and write for hours, but once the distractions start—phone, email, Internet, bills to pay, plumbing mishaps, family issues, etc.—how will I not revert to my old habits of reacting to life as it hits me rather than being at least somewhat in control of it?

So maybe a writers’ retreat right in my own home wouldn’t be a bad idea. Though don’t ask me how it would work.

Still, it was a lovely, lovely week.

Read Robin Hathaway's books. She deserves it, if only for playing host to me. (Although they ARE good books.)

Thanks, Robin.

Peace,
Elena

BUILDING A FOUNDATION

2010-08-13T22:15:00.004-04:00

I'm posting this a few days early. Next week I'm unplugging myself from the world to concentrate on writing. With any luck, I'll get some work done. Or I'll figure out new ways to play with my pen. I'll let you know.

Meantime, here's the question of the week:

What do you believe are the basics, or necessities, for a good story?

First and absolutely most important, you need a good storyteller. Whether you write in first or third person, your narrator is your connection to your reader. No, more than that--the narrator should take the reader by the hand and lead him or her into and through the story. That means your narrator has to be completely engaging and trustworthy. Readers will not suffer fools much past page 50.

The narrator must be a skilled actor, the kind who could act out a fairy tale you've heard hundreds of times, yet keep you enthralled right up to the inevitable happy-ever-after. Unlike an actor, though, your narrator can't use gestures or facial expressions. Everything relies on language: words and the way they're used. The narrator's voice needs to be unique and command attention. In other words--and I've said this before on this blog--the narrator should NEVER be the author. Even if you're writing in third-person omniscient, that mysterious, godlike, all-seeing narrator ought to be a character with its own perspective and opinions. And hey, a sense of humor never hurts.

Of course, a great storyteller could read a shopping list and keep the audience interested, but will they come back for more?

So, second, you need a story with a beginning, middle and end. You need to say who your characters are, then what happens to them, then how they're changed by what happened.

Say two people meet for dinner and have a conversation. That isn't a story in itself. It shouldn't even be a chapter. BUT, what if the conversation becomes more like a roller coaster ride, with ups and downs, witty banter one moment, argument the next? If this conversation changes each character significantly--in the way they feel about each other, or about their worlds, or in what their next actions will be--THEN you have a story. If the story makes the reader think a little, so much the better.

Now, sure, add great characters and a nifty setting and a completely surprising twists throughout and you've got a great mystery novel. But the necessities are storyteller and story.

Peace,
Elena

HATE MAIL

2010-08-09T13:32:00.007-04:00

I received a chain email this morning. Unless they're incredibly funny, I never pass them on, regardless of topic. I think chain letters are the poorest form of communication. Not only do we use another's (usually a stranger's) words to speak for ourselves, the letters often prey on everyone's superstitions, fears, hopes, weaknesses, and that all too human temptation to play whisper-down-the-lane.

This one, however, stuck with me like a flu bug, so I decided I had to respond. At first I thought I'd just hit reply-all, but what I want to say ought to be said openly, so, although I rarely use my blog as a blatant soapbox, this was important to me.

The chain letter began:
"Great grandfathers watched as their friends died in the Civil War.
"My father watched as his friends died in WW II.
"And I watched as my friends died in Vietnam."

I can't reproduce the entire letter--it's too long--but here are some other statements:

"I'm standing up because the hundreds of thousands who died fighting in wars for this country, and for the American flag."
"Let me make this clear! THIS IS MY COUNTRY!"
"This statement DOES NOT mean I'm against immigration!"
_______________

First of all, I have to admit, none of my great-grandfathers watched their friends die in the American Civil War. (At the same time, none were slave-traders, nor did they slaughter Indians and run them off their lands.)

However, here's the story of my great-grandpop, Carmen Ronca. In the 1880s, he worked in the marble quarries of Italy, which was dangerous and back-breaking. He could read. So he wanted to come to America, then bring over his wife and children. He didn't except streets paved with gold; he just wanted a better life and more opportunities for his family. He was poor, so when a chance to work his way over to America in the boiler room of a Portugese steamer came up, he jumped at it. What he didn't realize was that the steamer's crew took advantage of his enthusiasm and ignorance of their language. The steamer landed, not in North America, but in South America.

Carmen was able to work his way north as far as Mexico and tried to use his papers at the Texas border. The officials told him no, he had to go to Ellis Island. He didn't have the money. Meantime, the U.S. railroads were hiring Mexicans (because, gee, they worked cheaper and would do work Americans were unwilling to do in conditions Americans wouldn't touch), so Carmen was hired as a Mexican to build and repair America's railroads. Technically, he was an illegal immigrant. After a year or so of this, when he was in Pittsburgh, he was told they were sending him back to Mexico. He showed his immigration papers, and some sane official processed him through Brownsville, PA. He got a job in coal mine, in even more horrendous working conditions, but was finally able to bring his wife and family over to America. After a few years, he move to eastern PA to be near other relatives. He worked in the limestone quarries. Limestone, Carmen said, was at least easier to cut than marble, and he was out in the fresh air.

Carmen never became a citizen, but he flew both the American and Italian flags over his house every day of the rest of his life. His sons fought in World War I, and his grandsons in World War II. Somewhere in the U.S. Army archives is a photo of Richard Ronca holding the Nazi flag after his unit liberated the town of Colmar, France. Major Robert Ronca served in Korea, then led the first air mission over North Vietnam. A few weeks later he was killed in action when his plane was shot down.

One other story: my grandfather, Giuseppe Ciccocioppo, came to America in 1912. Even before becoming a citizen, he served in the U.S. Army in World War I. He kept his Army nickname, Joe Chicco, because Americans treated him better. During World War II, Joe would walk down to the train station each day to see off or welcome home troops. His son Francis served in the Army in Europe. His other son, Joe B. Chicco, served in the Navy aboard the USS Mobile in every major naval engagement from August 1943 to the end of the war. You can read this son's WW2 diary at www.1945chicco.blogspot.com. As a result of his service, Joe B. also suffered from severe chronic PTSD until the day he died.

I get a little tired of folks like the person who wrote that email, who seem to think immigrants have nothing to do with America's war sacrifices. Take a look through the database at http://militarytimes.com/valor/ -- of those who died in Iraq and Afghanistan, most don't have your basic Sons of the American Revolution names. A big percentage are Hispanic, and a huge percentage of those are Mexican.

Whoever wrote that email had an ancestor who was an immigrant--doesn't matter how far back in time you go. Yet, in saying he's not against immigration, he shows that he sets himself apart from, and obviously in his own mind, superior to, immigrants.

He says this is HIS country. Well, no sir, it isn't. America is a democracy, which means none of us can lay singular claim to it. We share ownership, and stewardship. And all of us are descendants of immigrants.

Please don't let people like this spread hate and division. The world doesn't need any more of either.

Peace,
Elena

Zee Nom De Plume

2010-08-09T07:55:00.004-04:00

What are some of the pros & cons of using a Pen Name?
Would you recommend the use of a Pen Name?

PRO:
1. Say you write more than one type of book for more than one type of reader, maybe a children's mystery series and adult sci-fi. Using a pen name for one series will keep your readers from getting confused and buying the wrong books. And it will help distributor sales reps, bookstore owners, and librarians put the books on correct shelves.

2. Use a pen name if you have any reason not to have your writer's life overlap your real one. A kindergarten teacher who writes steamy romances? A minister who writes vampire stories? A prominent scientist who writes poetry?

3. Lots of women writers use a masculine pen name or, at least, initials instead of a first name. If the genre has a good percentage of male readers (thrillers, westerns, sci-fi, action/adventure), it can be more difficult to sell books by an obviously female author. Usually, the reverse isn't true--romance by a man can sell as well, or better, than women authors.

4. If you have a real name so much like another recognizable name--say, Michael Jackson--that using it might give you negative publicity or, at least, attract the wrong readers, consider changing it.

5. If you have a really hard to pronounce or remember name, you might consider a pen name. My brother, Bob Santangelo, who pens non-fiction articles and books, writes under the name Bob Brooke. Why didn't I change mine if "Santangelo" is a potential problem? I kept telling myself Lisa Scottoline is doing okay with a long Italian name. At least my books are shelved near hers. And frankly, I'm proud of my family name.

CON:
1. If you change your first name, realize people will actually call you by that name. You have to sign books with your pen name. That's not an easy thing to adjust to, especially when friends and family still call you Bessie or whatever. You have to learn how to be two or more people without batting an eye and without therapy.

2. I was at a mystery convention once in a city where President Clinton was speaking at a dinner. He stopped at the hotel for a few hours to freshen up and put on his tux. The rooms of his floor were searched by the Secret Service and a friend of mine had to explain why she was registered under one name, yet her major forms of ID were another name, and a credit card under still another. Can be a big hassle, especially when flying.

3. Taxes, bank accounts, and other business matters are a bit more confusing. Filling in an IRS Schedule C is bad enough with just one name. You need to add your pen names to your bank account because someone is bound to write a check to your fake name no matter how careful you are telling them not to. Plus there are copyright and trademark issues. I don't know all the legal ramifications since I don't use a pen name (yet), but try Googling "pen name legality" to find out more.

Peace,
Elena (yes, really)

Learning to be Creative

2010-08-02T06:35:00.005-04:00

I've had more questions sent my way, which makes writing this blog easier, so keep 'em coming.

What is the best way to avoid currently public story lines from integrating into your work?

I'm going to assume that by "public story line" you mean something detailed and recognizable like "Boy finds out he's a wizard, goes to wizarding school and battles evil archenemy." Because something like "Girl meets boy, girl loses boy, girl gets boy" has been done over and over. Every modern romance is based on that plot line. Nobody's going to hang you for using it. Even recognizable stories like Romeo & Juliet and Pygmalion have been redone as West Side Story and My Fair Lady (and Pretty Woman).

My theory is that human beings instinctively learn storytelling, character development, narrative description, et cetera, through stealing.

As we grow up, we hear stories, read books, watch TV and movies, and go to plays. We latch onto, say, certain authors or TV shows that fire our imaginations more than others. Most children cook up stories involving their dolls and stuffed animals. If a youngster goes on to dream up tales starring their favorite book characters, or imagines friends or fictional characters in an existing TV story, chances are that youngster's going to be a novelist or playwright someday. I used to write parodies of fairy tales with my friends in the main roles, and I still write parodies of songs.

My point here is that this kind of stealing is how we learn to trust our imaginations. Creating every aspect of a novel from scratch is too overwhelming for most beginners. If you start with an established framework--a story or characters that you already know will work--you can let yourself play what-if with the other aspects of the tale, until you work out all the kinks in the writing process. This is a great way to learn the craft.

If you're going to steal plots for works you intend to sell someday, though, stick with the tried-and-true. Read the classics, both in literature and mystery fiction--Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Louis Stevenson, et al. Not only are these stories public domain, they've stood the test of time.

Interesting that you can bake a cake using a mix or someone else's recipe, sell it at a bake sale, or even in a bakery, and no one will bring you to court over it.

But you can't do the writing equivalent. So just steal enough to learn each aspect of writing--characters, plots, settings, dialogue--then start trusting your own imagination. Start baking completely from scratch.

Peace,
Elena

A Parody That's Good For The Heart

2010-07-26T06:02:00.002-04:00

Time for a break from my usual yawp about writing.

My protagonist, Pat Montella, loves to cook. Since so many other authors have food-related blogs, I feel obligated to add my voice to the cacophony.

Here's something Miss Maggie likes to sing while Pat's whipping up a batch of fagiole. The song is from that famous movie Gentlemen Prefer Beans:

A beet in the pan may be quite continental
But legumes are a cook's best friend.
A beet may be canned but it won't taste like lentil
in a three-bean soup,
Or navies in brown sugar goop.

Meat goes cold and meals grow old,
Even cheese will grow mold in the end.
But lima or kidney, from Stockholm to Sydney,
Legumes are a cook's best friend.

Peace,
Elena

Don't

2010-07-20T06:16:00.004-04:00

Last question:

4. Any advice for someone wanting to write a mystery for today's market.

My advice is DON'T. Never, ever, ever, ever write for today's market. Chances are good that today's market will change long before you're done your first draft. Maybe even before you're done your first chapter.

Instead, write something you're passionate about. Tell whatever story is in your heart and soul. Write the kind of mystery you love to read.

Writing for the market is like being a cubicle slave for a mega-corporation who doesn't know your name and doesn't care. And writing pays worse, with no benefits and no 401k. Writing for the market will never bring you job satisfaction.

If you hone your craft until you can communicate well, and if you believe wholeheartedly in the story you want to tell, you have all you need to produce a book people will want to read.

You're a writer. Be your own boss. Don't let anyone else try to tell you what to write. Writers and readers ought to shape the market, not vise versa.

Peace,
Elena

For the Insomniac

2010-07-13T06:32:00.005-04:00

As stated in the last 2 posts, this month I'm answering a friend's questions:

3. If you couldn't sleep, which author's books would you read and why?

Actually, when I can't sleep, I read non-fiction. Something like Science News magazine. It puts interesting facts into my brain while lulling me into slumber. I don't read exciting fiction or I'll be up all night.

If I can change the question to, what author do I enjoy reading at bedtime? I can't pick just one. I almost never read two books in a row by the same author. But if I could pick a few, I'd say Dorothy Gilman, Agatha Christie, Barbara Michaels, Alan Bradley, Robin Hathaway, Polly Whitney, Gillian Roberts, Irene Fleming, Dianne Day...Have I gone over my "few" allotment? I could name at least a dozen more.

Why? These authors write well. They're great storytellers. They're entertaining. They're intelligent and so are their characters. They don't waste my time.

Right now I'm reading Mrs. Pollifax and the Hong Kong Buddha by Dorothy Gilman. I should also add that I'm a very poor bedtime reader. A couple paragraphs and I'm out. I'm more of an afternoon reader.

The only fiction I won't read at bedtime is horror and ghost stories. Then I REALLY wouldn't be able to sleep.

Sweet dreams,
Elena

Let Me Check My Crystal Ball

2010-07-06T06:44:00.004-04:00

As I said last week, I'm answering some questions from a friend of mine. Here's her second question:

2. If you could see into the future, where do you see women's mysteries going in the next 10/20 years?

Depends where the mystery book industry goes. Technology and buying habits are changing so fast, it's anyone's guess. The cost of traditional publishing is skyrocketing. Probably less people are buying paper books. I say probably because some folks vehemently deny this is true. The publishing industry is more secretive about their business than the Pentagon. My opinion? I see less people in bookstores. And less mysteries on the shelves.

More people have electronic readers like Kindle and the prices of those are expected to come down until electronic readers are as ubiquitous as cell phones. That said, if you go anywhere people are waiting (train terminal, doctor's office) or relaxing (beach, cruise ship, lunch hour), books made of paper are still the pastime of choice.

Given the pace of Western society these days, readers may very well move toward shorter novels. More and more writers will likely jump on the self-publishing bandwagon, though probably only for a book or two before they find out how hard it is and how fast it drains their bank accounts. The more the big publishers merge and remain rooted in their 19th century ways, the more small presses will spring up to siphon their markets. A fraction of those small presses will avoid bankruptcy and they'll print some truly great mysteries.

I'd love to see more authors take their out-of-print short stories and put them up on the Internet in Kindle format for downloading. Maybe we can start a short mystery Renaissance.

If you mean content, my answer is "Who knows?" Ten years ago, no one was publishing vampire mysteries, now they're everywhere. New York will barely touch a cozy mystery these days, but at least 50% of mystery readers actively seek them out. When my novel BY BLOOD POSSESSED came out in 1999, no one heard of a cross-genre mystery, combining paranormal, history, or what have you. Now they're the big thing. (Note: I did it first. HA!)

My opinion? Predicting trends 10-20 years out is impossible. Trends can change every 6 months. If you're a writer, trends should be the last thing you think about. Writers ought to concentrate on writing good stories and nothing else.

Peace,
Elena

The Case of the Missing Mystery

2010-06-30T08:49:00.003-04:00

A friend of mine is writing a thesis titled "The Shifting Trends in Women's Mysteries in the Last Eighty Years" and she sent me some questions. I'm going to answer them one at a time here on the blog over the next few weeks.

1. What would you like to see more of in today's mysteries?

I want to see more mystery.

I noticed at 2 writers conferences this past month that the term "crime writer" is becoming more prevalent than "mystery writer." A lot of books I've come across the last five years have a body on page one, a straightforward (bordering on boring) investigation, and a solution in the last chapter. They're crime novels, yes, but they don't have much mystery in them. No intriguing clues, no seemingly impossible puzzles. Not even very much in the way of mysterious settings or moods. Danger, perhaps, but too often predictable danger.

I've been told (as an explanation) that these are character-driven novels. I'm not sure what that means, other than that I seem to have to plow through usually too many scenes about the main character's love/sex life or cats or drinking problems or financial woes or dysfunctional family sagas between scant paragraphs pertaining to the crime story.

Think back to all the times Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot found an apparently inconsequential clue: for instance, rye grain in a deadman's pocket. The police ignore it. Yet, that kind of clue is so intriguing that I'll keep turning pages to find out how it fits in.

I've actually heard authors scoff at putting what I think of as "mystery" back into mystery novels. The feeling seems to be that the genre has now matured and that grown-ups don't want silly clues like that in their books. Grown-ups only want violence and sex and gritty reality.

Bunk. Reality neither stimulates my brain nor entertains me. I read to escape reality. If that means I'm not mature, I don't ever want to be.

Peace,
Elena (still a "mystery" writer)

Perception of Truth

2010-06-25T07:17:00.009-04:00

This past week I took a photography tour of the Bay of Fundy. Many of you know I'm a musician as well as a writer. Few know of my truly dismal talents in the visual arts. I can't even draw a convincing stick figure.

Still, I've been taking vacation photos since the age of six when my Dad gave me a Kodak Brownie. After college I bought myself a Minolta SLR, adding different lenses as I could afford them. I used that camera for 20 years, until they stopped making the light meter battery. Right now I've got a very unfancy Olympus digital whose limits are finally forcing me learn something about visual composition.

I took the tour mainly because it promised to visit all the kinds of natural places I love, not because I'm a serious amateur photog. Yet I did pick up some great tips from our guide, Lance Timmons (check out his cool portfolio at timmonsphotography.com). Beyond that though, he talked a bit about the perception of truth in a photo, which got me thinking how that applies to writing.

People assume photos are truthful little moments frozen in time. Or at least, snapshots used to be truthful, before Photoshop, right? Well, no. Photographers have always shown us only their interpretation of scenes. Before digital technology, they could manipulate photos in the darkroom during processing, or by posing what ends up looking like a spontaneous shot, or even simply by cropping out details so the viewer sees only what the photographer wants them to see. Regardless of the technology, a good photographer can sway the viewer's sympathies to each photo.

When I write historical fiction, I do my best to make the history factual, but I'll be the first to admit that I'm not showing everything. For one thing, I'd have to do a decade of research for each chapter. Writers don't have that kind of luxury of time. Even if I did, I don't want to show that many details. Like a good photographer, I need to zoom in on the subject and crop everything else. Too many historical writers spend too many words showing off their research. Do we really need a minute description of 1860s ladies' undergarments in a book about the Civil War? No. It stops the story. Only show what's necessary to bring the era and the story to life.

Also like a photographer, the details I do show ought to sway the sympathy of the audience. In BY BLOOD POSSESSED, my goal wasn't to present the Civil War from a North or South point of view. I wanted to show how war, any war, effects families. In HANG MY HEAD AND CRY, I was aiming for a perspective of Reconstruction through the eyes of a nine year-old freed slave.

The above applies to any kind of writing, not just historicals. You have to look through a viewfinder at the world you're writing about. Move around, back up, zoom in, until you have in the frame only what the reader needs to understand the story. And even after you write it, chances are you'll need to do further cropping.

The photos with this blog are from my trip, taken with my dippy little Olympus digital (the rubber ducky is my first mate, Smee).

So maybe I learned something.

Peace,
Elena

Discouragement, Then & Now

2010-06-18T15:44:00.003-04:00

I was at a writer's conference last weekend and I noticed a few things.

Fifteen years ago, unpublished writers could either keep sending out queries to agents and editors until somebody gave them a break and published something, or until the writers died, or they paid vanity presses to publish their books. Young writers were warned and warned about vanity presses, the way little kids are warned not to take candy from strangers. Writers who go with vanity presses, we were told, lost all their money, ended up with a garage full of unsellable books, and were never heard from again. This was usually true, except some of the writers never got the books they paid for. I saw one contract's small print that stated the press wasn't obligated to ever put the manuscript in print.

Then again, we were also told that getting a legit book contract had worse odds than winning the state lottery (which I think was about 1 in 100,000). Easier to win a million in the lottery and buy a small publishing house for yourself.

These days writers are still querying agents. Most editors no longer accept non-agented mystery fiction submissions. Publishing houses have merged, so less of them exist. Writers are warned and warned about self-publishing--you spend your savings and never break even, you end up with a garage full of books, and you never have a chance at a real writing career because no one will take you seriously.

The more things change the more they stay the same. Except that self-published writers using a legitimate press can be reasonably assured of receiving books with which to fill their garages. I haven't heard the current odds of getting a novel published, but it's still worse than winning a lottery. My guess is that now that lottery is Powerball (1 in 5,138,133 last I heard).

Oh, and one more thing I heard this weekend. Less books are being sold than fifteen years ago. (Legal recorded sales, I mean. This does not include under-the-table deals done in the street outside authors' garages.) Even if you do get a contract, your book will likely be out of print fairly soon. No guarantee you'll ever sell another manuscript. An author used to be considered "established" after four published books. No more. You can become a has-been overnight.

At the conference last weekend, between regular rose-colored-glasses sessions on how to improve your writing and get it into publishable shape, all these extremely depressing topics were thrashed out in detail. You could feel the frustration.

Yet, out of the hundreds of writers at that conference, how many will actually throw in the towel? Surprisingly few. For most of us, despite the fact that we know our works probably won't be bestsellers--that they may not even pay for a month's worth of bills each year--that they may never even be published after the months and years we spend on them--despite all that, we're still writers.

Writing's a calling. An obsession. An addiction.

We can't stop.

And so, my fellow writers, keep writing. And keep playing the lottery. First one of us who wins a million buys the small press and publishes the rest of us.

Peace,
Elena

MACAVITY NOM!!!

2010-06-10T07:08:00.005-04:00

Dame Agatha has been turned on her ear again. At the risk of sounding monotonous...

DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS has been nominated for a Macavity award!

The Macavity is named for T.S. Eliot's mystery cat from Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. The award looks like a sleeping cat lying atop a stack of books and is given each year in the fall by Mystery Readers International, an organization of readers, writers, and anyone else in the business. http://www.mysteryreaders.org/

I've been in way too much shock over all this, and so have been downright rude in not congratulating my fellow Macavity and Anthony nominees. Cheers to you all.

Peace,
Elena

Manuscript Format

2010-06-08T07:15:00.003-04:00

I've been looking over some student manuscripts lately and the most consistent problem has zilch to do with creative writing, per se. Yet this problem might keep a story from being published.

I'm talking about the format of the manuscript. Think of it this way: you'll be sending that manuscript out on job interviews. Dress it appropriately and you increase the odds that your baby will land a nice position someplace.

Or, hey, think of the standard format as a secret handshake. You want to be considered a serious writer? Your manuscript had better look as if you're one of us and not an imposter. At least, that may be what potential publishers think.

Good reasons exist for using standard formatting:

1 - A font that takes up the same amount of space for each letter will always put the same amount of characters on a page. That makes it easy for an editor to tell at a glance how many published pages your story or novel will need (meaning, yes, they can then tell if you lied big time about your word count).

2 - Publishers ought to know exactly to find your address, phone, email, word count. They shouldn't have to guess if you're using a pen name, or for that matter, what name to put on an advance check. And it's just plain common sense to put your title, last name and page number at the top of each page in case they get separated.

3 - Standard formatting is easier to read and edit. You may think to dazzle an editor with an array of beautiful fonts, but you're merely distracting the eye from what ought to be the real jewel--your story.

FONT: I use Courier New, 12pt. Most computers have that font or one similar. It's easy on the eyes and as stated above, each letter is the same width. Don't make any font bold.

SPACING: I shouldn't even have to tell you to double-space lines. Do NOT put an extra line between paragraphs unless you want to indicate the beginning of a new section, and then put a "#" to show you mean the blank line to be there. ALWAYS indent each paragraph. You're not writing business letters or a blog. Don't play with spacing to make more words fit on a line or more lines fit on a page.

HEADING for each page: Top right-hand corner. Title / Last Name / Page Number.

For more on formatting, like how to do title pages, and to see examples, check out these links:

http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~mslee/format.html

http://www.shunn.net/format/novel.html
(A good example except he puts the word count at the bottom of his title page. I put it at the top, right side, so an editor flipping through a pile of manuscripts can spot it easily.)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/writersroom/scriptsmart/shortstory.pdf
(A good example of short story formatting.)

Your writing should be creative, not your formatting.

Peace,
Elena

Anthony Nom!

2010-06-04T15:32:00.004-04:00

Once more I'm floored.

DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS has been nominated for an Anthony award!! (That's the one given at Bouchercon, the World Mystery Convention, in the fall.)

'Scuze me while I go sit down.

Peace,
Elena

Memorial Day

2010-05-31T06:34:00.007-04:00

I posted this last year on Facebook for Memorial Day. It's just as appropriate this year. They're still haggling over the fate of the Wilderness Battlefield. We're still fighting wars.
____________________

In my first book, Pat asks Miss Maggie if she's against all the development around the Wilderness Battlefield in Virginia. Miss Maggie says she's against the very grass, because the grass grows over battlefields, heals them, and stops us from being able to picture what really happened there. We forget how awful war is and we do it again. I stole Miss Maggie's thoughts from Carl Sandburg in his poem "Grass":

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work--
I am the grass; I cover all.
...
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What is this place?
Where are we now?
...

Last night I heard that Walmart is building a 141,000 sq. ft. superstore right in Miss Maggie's backyard, on the Route 3 dividing line between Chancellorsville and Wilderness, right about where the rear of the union line was located. If you want to find out about this latest fiasco of greed over meaningful history and what you can do, check out www.civilwar.org/walmart08. At this point, it looks like Walmart's going to win.

Up on this side of the Mason-Dixon, we around Valley Forge have been fighting the building of a hotel and other development on top of the Continental Army's commissary site during the winter of 1777-78.

What is it that makes local officials want to give away the best of our historical sites--the places from which we and future generations have the most to learn--to money-grubbing giants who won't even have the grace to leave a few dollars of their profit in our own local economies? Why do we do this to our most sacred American places?

Maybe Sandburg's poem has another side -- maybe we WANT our history covered. Most of it isn't as pretty as we'd like. Especially the battlefields. Then again, if the grass didn't do its work, I'm betting that humankind would have given up war long ago.
_________________

Peace,
Elena

The Thrill of the Blank Screen

2010-05-27T06:09:00.003-04:00

I know, I know. You’re all saying, give her an award, her head swells, and she thinks she’s above mere blogging. Or she’s still partying.

Granted, it’s been 3 weeks since I last posted, but my excuse is that I can’t say no to non-profits. May is when all the reports are due both for my singing ensemble (www.historicalharmonies.org) and my music fraternity (yea! Sigma Alpha Iota!). That means a total of about 22 pages, the size of a short story, so 3 weeks is about right.

But I’m back and I’ve begun a new book.

I hesitate to say that. I think most writers would agree that a new project has a higher chance of failure than a book that’s half done. Once I’ve invested a few months in a novel, I never want to give it up. I’ve put too much into the research and writing and long walks working out the plot. Starting out--that's another thing. A blank screen is scary and I know sometimes I need to get 5 chapters down before I can tell if an idea will go anywhere. Or, at least, anywhere entertaining enough that I want to devote 6 to 12 months to writing it out. So I sort of hold my breath through the first tenth of a book.

Yet beginning a new novel is also exciting. A new idea fills me with energy—I see all sorts of possibilities. If it’s a good idea, it will continue to feed my energy as I write. I’ll be anxious to get back to it. I’ll think about the book when I’m not writing. I know novel writing is essentially a marathon, so yes, I’ll have days when I can’t make something work, or when life interferes. I’ll get stuck. I'll get frustrated and grumpy. I’ll wonder why I didn’t listen to my mother and become a doctor (actually, the sight of blood and gore had a lot to do with that).

At this moment, though, I won’t dwell on that. I’m at the beginning. Like any new relationship or new diet, I think, this time will be different. I’ve learned from my mistakes. This will be easier. I can’t wait to throw myself into it.

This is one of the two reasons I write: the giddy almost-in-love feeling I get at the beginning of a project.

The other is the satisfaction I get typing “THE END.”

Peace,
Elena

My New Teapot

2010-05-04T19:28:00.006-04:00

In the last few days, I think I've emailed or posted this photo just about everywhere, but I only now realize that I forgot to post it here on my blog.

For those of you who don't know, in the mystery writing world, there are major awards called the Agathas. The teapot in the photo is an Agatha Award for best nonfiction mystery book of 2009. The book was my companion guide to Agatha Christie's short stories titled DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS.

I was thrilled with the nomination, but did not at ALL expect to win. (I was up against P.D. James for Pete's sake!) When they announced my book at the banquet, the blood was pounding so hard in my ears, I couldn't hear anything for 15 minutes. When they handed me the teapot, all I could think was "Oh, no! Now I have to climb the stairs to the podium and I'll probably trip and drop the thing." I don't really remember what I said at the podium. I hope it made sense. Pretty sure I babbled.

If so, what I meant to do was to thank (a) the Malice Domestic Conference, since it was there a few years back that I first got the idea to do a book about Christie's short stories; (b) Rod Hunter of Bella Rosa Books, for his enthusiasm in taking the project and publishing a classy-looking book; (c) my brother, for helping me with caregiving duties so I could sneak away to work on the book; and (d) the Delaware Valley Chapter of Sisters in Crime, who've been great friends and major support the last 15 years.

Idiot that I am, I forgot to thank Agatha Christie, not only for the inspiration for this book, but for being my mentor through her works since I started writing.

Think I'll spend one more day up here on cloud nine before I get back to laundry and groceries and bill paying.

Peace,
Elena

MEDITATIONS ON EARTH DAY

2010-04-26T07:16:00.003-04:00

This time next week the Malice Domestic Conference will be over. All last week I was thinking that my blog ought to say something about DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS, my companion book to Agatha Christie's short stories that's been nominated for an Agatha award, which will be given at the convention next Saturday night. Yes, I'm a mess of nerves. Yes, I have nothing to wear to the banquet. Maybe this is the reason I haven't let my brain dwell too much on the upcoming conference. Too much? Who am I kidding? I've been keeping myself in complete denial.

But, one thing has been on my mind a lot the last week: Earth Day.

Back in 1970, when the first Earth Day organizers were trying to get schools involved, my junior high ran a poster contest. The year before, The Fifth Dimension released "Age of Aquarius/Let
the Sunshine In" as a single, and like everyone else in my class, I knew every word and could sing all the harmonies. For my poster, I got a big piece of black cardboard, pasted a bright yellow and orange construction paper sun in the middle, and in bold red cut out letters above and below pasted "LET THE SUN SHINE IN." Even then I played with words, changing "shine" to a verb. That poster earned 4th place, Honorable Mention. Not too shabby for a school with several hundred kids.

The high school started an Ecology Club and the next year, I helped them clean out part of our local creek. Our group only tackled about a third of a mile of the stream, but we filled a dump truck with the stuff we pulled out, including 24 shopping carts, 4 cars worth of parts, and 100-plus cans. Thinking back on how filthy that water was, it's amazing that none of us (to my knowledge) got anything worse than sunburn and poison ivy that day.

But even before the whole Earth Day movement took hold, one of my favorite pastimes was hiking in the woods with my family or Girl Scout troops. I've loved nature all my life. In second grade, my career ambition was to be an ornithologist. My favorite vacations are in gorgeous wildernesses with no fast food places or housing developments in site. My favorite hobby is gardening.

When I created the character of teenager Beth Ann Lee, before I knew anything else about her--before I knew she was a science geek, or that she played clarinet in band and had a secret crush on a trumpeter, or that she could sometimes see ghosts--before any of that, I knew she had my love of nature. She was the logical character to be an environmentalist--someone who'd grown up and run free in a beautiful forest. Someone who could intuitively understand ecological connections because she'd lived with them since birth.

Earth Day this year brought together all these thoughts. It's been 40 years since I made that poster, yet new "Clean Air" legislation might take away the EPA's authority to regulate carbon dioxide emissions. 40 years progress lost. I look at the "Beth Anns" I know now and wonder if they'll be able to clean up our mess.

I hope so.

Make each day Earth Day.
Elena

FEAR

2010-04-19T06:37:00.003-04:00

If there's one thing you can count on in most mystery novels, it's that at least one of the good guys -- the protagonist, the faithful sidekick, the innocent but helpless love interest/family member, maybe even all of humanity -- ends up in enough danger that the reader will turn page after page to find out how they'll eventually be saved.

So it behooves us mystery writers to know how to monger fear.

Fortunately, we have no dearth of mentors. Alfred Hitchcock, for instance. Here's a quote:

"There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it."

His most famous example (and I paraphrase) is of a couple sitting at a table, talking. A bomb goes off. Everyone's surprised. Maybe the couple narrowly escapes, maybe not. Either way, shocking but not scary.

Same scene, same couple, only now we, the audience, can see the bomb. We know it's set to go off at 1 o'clock and we're shown a clock on the wall that reads quarter to one. We become part of the scene. We want to warn the characters (assuming we like them). As each minute ticks by, the suspense (and with it, our fear) builds. That's good writing.

If you're afraid Hitchcock's advice might be dated, you need only channel surf news channels to see how trendy scaring people is these days. No one remembers hard facts, they remember scary phrases like "death panels." Politicians, political pundits, and even some folks who call themselves journalists have become masters of the art.

Fact is, no one WANTS to remember the truth. We'd rather be fooled if it means being scared. The great majority of Americans, on both the left and the right, would rather hear a slew of conspiracy theories than a sane explanation.

A good mystery writer can come right out and say Mr. X committed the murder early on, then fill the next 350 pages with red herrings and ticking bombs. Readers will be taken in. And enjoy every minute.

As Hitchcock also said:

"Always make the audience suffer as much as possible."

(or was that FOXnews?)

Boo,
Elena

Planting Seeds

2010-04-11T07:46:00.002-04:00

We had summer-like weather last week. I was stuck at home with a cold. I took advantage of both situations by carrying my potting supplies outside so I could soak up some warm sun while I planted basil and tomato seeds.

Once I plant the seeds and place the containers on an upstairs windowsill, I keep the soil moist and watch for sprouts. I'm far from an expert at growing tomatoes this way. My results are always inconsistent and occasionally nonexistent. I never know how many plants I'll get, if any, and if they'll be hearty. Basil's different. Usually I get more plants than I can use and I push off the extras on friends. Still, until I see tiny bits of green pushing up through the soil, I never really believe seeds will grow. Always seems too much of a miracle until it happens.

Writing is like this. I get an idea--a seed. I feed it by playing "what-if." Seed: an unusual tattoo. What if the person who gets the tattoo isn't someone who would normally would? A grandmotherly Miss Marple sort. What if no one knows she has it until she dies? What if the tattoo is found to be...an Egyptian hieroglyph? A letter of the Russian alphapet? An Oriental rug symbol? What if the death didn't seem suspicious until the tattoo was found?

When one "what-if" begins to lead to another, I have a sprout, but I'm still not ready to write. I need a few more leaves before transplanting to the page. Who is the victim? Who's going to decide the tattoo warrants further investigation of the death? And for me in particular, where am I going to plant this story? What's the setting? Where is this seedling going to grow best?

With my basil and tomato plants, come Memorial Day, they go outside in the veggie bed. I protect them from insects and birds and squirrels. I check them each day, watering and weeding. After a while, God willin', I have adult plants established enough that if I go away for a day, it's no big deal. But, of course, I still can't neglect them for long.

Stories in progress are the same. At first I have to keep at them constantly. I'm never comfortable in a book until I reach the sixth chapter or so. If I set it aside too long before that point, I feel like my seedling might die. Even after the characters and plot are more or less established, if I have to go away for a week, I have a dickens of a time getting back into the story and bringing it back to life again.

I've heard would-be writers talk about wonderful story ideas, but really, all they have are packets of seeds. Sometimes the hardest part is believing your seeds will grow. Once they do, you have to commit to the whole nurturing process if you want a good harvest.

Peace,
Elena

How Not to Write A How-To

2010-04-02T10:48:00.003-04:00

I've been quiet for a while. The simple truth of it is, doing taxes turns my brain to mush.

Being the daughter of an accountant, I've been doing my own taxes all my life. Okay, yes, I did switch to Turbo Tax when I started having writing income and expenses--mainly to make sure I wasn't overlooking anything--but until a few years ago, I thought I had a handle on what I was doing. Lately though, I've felt like I can't bend my mind around the task.

Have I reached the age where enough brain cells have died that the synapses assigned to taxes need a government stimulus to rebuild the bridges? Is my financial life that much more complicated (short of the war I've been waging with Bank of America because they've made 5 errors in the last 2 years, some of which have cost me money)? The short answer to that last question is "no way."

So why? Well, let's take a look at the history of the 1040 Instruction Booklet.

1982: The booklet was 48 pages which, besides the 1040 and schedule instructions, included a whole page of where-to-mail addresses, an index, and a blank page for NOTES.

1990: 64 pages, not much difference from above, just 33% longer.

1999: 117 pages, 70 of which were the actual 1040 instructions, with schedule instructions tacked onto the end.

2004: 128 pages total. 77 pages for the 1040, the rest for the schedules.

2007: 153 total. 87 pages for the 1040.

2009: 175 total. 103 pages for the 1040. Total booklet now has 265% more pages than in 1982.

175 pages. That's half a novel. As for content, here's a random quote from page 32:

If you received income from a non-qualified deferred compensation plan or nongovernmental section 457 plan that is box 1 of your Form W-2, or in box 7 of Form 1099-MISC, do not include that income on line 8 of the worksheet. The income should be shown in (a) box 11 of your Form W-2, (b) box 12 of your Form W-2 with code Z, or (c) box 15b of Form 1099-MISC.

175 pages of that.

So here's an idea. DC, are you listening? Take a bunch of writers who listed a loss on their Schedule C this past year (lots to choose from), and put them to work rewriting the 1040 instructions so normal folks can understand them again.

Peace,
Elena

English as a Second Language

2010-03-15T11:10:00.004-04:00

I wasn't born a writer. In fact, English-wise, I was a B average. Oh, I could slap together a fairly coherent report in whatever subject. If you asked me now--now that I've been a teacher and seen incredibly incoherent writing from students--I guess maybe, even then, I could have been called a writer. But I didn't feel like one. Writing was a tool I used to get through school, and to concoct silly poems and stories during study hall. Now it's a tool to express myself. What do I do with it? I write silly poems and stories. And silly blogs.

Music is different. I remember, when I was in maybe third grade, my mom asked me why I sang all the time. I hadn't realized I did. By the time I was old enough for grade school chorus, I was already harmonizing with every song on the radio, every hymn in church, and with Muzak in department stores. Even if I never heard the song before. Music, I believe, was my first language. I have no idea why. My closest musical ancestor was an uncle who played accordion. Still, I have a brother who composes and two cousins who are singers, so it's in our DNA somewhere.

I put the kind of musicians I know in my novels--people like me who do other things to make a living. In HANG MY HEAD AND CRY, Theo is an aspiring anthropologist, but on the side he does church singing--services, weddings, funerals. POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY's main historical character is a fiddler and part-time music master. Series character Beth Ann plays clarinet in her school band. Actually, every science geek I know played in a school band or sang in choir. Not a coincidence. Early school music education feeds the brain in all kinds of ways.

A friend asked me this week if I'd ever do a mystery novel set in the music world. The short answer is, probably not. Musicians, when making music, don't have a murderous bone in them. Music is all about dialogue and communication, and something more--like a genuine meeting of souls. This is why the Arab/Jewish Orchestra can exist, and the Omagh Community Youth Choir of Northern Ireland, which includes kids from all different backgrounds with the aim of promoting peace.

If you'd like to hear some of the great music of these groups, and others from around the world, check out

http://www.playingforchange.com/

Peace, and harmony,
Elena

One Day at A Time

2010-03-09T09:45:00.004-05:00

This past week I've had a heater man here fixing a leaky steam pipe and an electrician doing a much needed upgrade on my old house. I'll miss the dungeon-like ambiance my cellar used to have, but now I can actually see what I'm doing while I sort laundry. No more white blouses turned splotchy pink.

This sort of household activity doesn't lend itself to getting writing done, especially when most of my free time was spent moving furniture and stuff around so all my old two-prong outlets could be evicted.

By coincidence, though, on my World War II blog, I've began to post my Uncle Joe's diary entries from 1945. I've read the journal a few times before, but I was once again struck by how quickly a story can take shape. Just 2 or 3 sentences a day and in a little over a week, I've traveled from California to Hawaii with him, hearing about the sailors who jumped ship in port, about those who were seasick and the rough weather that caused it, about shipboard routine like painting and early morning watch, and about renting bikes for liberty at Pearl Harbor. My uncle wasn't a trained or skilled writer--he was never terribly academic, he even had to repeat a grade in school. Yet, his story is easier to read than all the novels I've started and not finished in the last five years.

So, instead of writing this week, I've been mulling over his style of storytelling and why it seems to work so well.

My uncle had the uncanny knack for evoking images and empathy in one sentence. I could picture him watching the lights of Long Beach fade in the distance as their ship sailed west, not knowing what the next battles would bring or if he'd come home again. He didn't say any of that--he didn't need to. He only said that he could see the lights for a long time. The less he says, the more the reader participates. The reader becomes a fellow traveler instead of a mere listener.

I've read other diaries, some good, some bad. The bad ones were too wordy and too self-focused. The good ones shared the same elements as Uncle Joe's writing: honest observations and an occasional opinion, almost always born of emotion rather than intellect, but not melodramatic either.

One of the best diaries I ever read and that I highly recommend is that of Elizabeth Drinker, a Philadelphia Quaker whose husband, along with other Quakers in 1777, was sent to our country's first internment camp. Her telling of that incident, and her travels to Valley Forge to plead with General Washington for her husband's release, was fascinating, but I admit becoming completely drawn into her typical family problems, too. I cried when she wrote of her daughter's death.

If anyone reading this is thinking of doing some writing but isn't sure where to begin, try keeping a journal. A paragraph a day, that's all. One day at a time. Write about things that strike you as interesting or important. Don't go off on tirades. Don't lecture. Just relate.

History is, after all, only a collection of people's stories. Add yours.

Peace,
Elena

Healthcare Mayhem

2010-02-28T11:16:00.004-05:00

No, I don't mean Cherry Ames.

Informal poll: How many fictional sleuths can you name who worry about their healthcare?

Think about all those "realistic" fictional detectives who are self-employed, down on their luck, and getting beat up/shot at/Mickey-Finned on a daily basis. Shouldn't their writers mention how these tough guys pay their healthcare bills? Aren't chronic concussions a pre-existing condition? Are the Sam Spades of the world even insurable?

In my Possessed Mystery Series, my protagonist Pat Montella doesn't worry about her healthcare; she has panic attacks over it. In book one, BY BLOOD POSSESSED, paramedics ask her if she wants to go to the hospital, she says no, not because she's feeling great, but because the hospital is in a different state than her insurer and she knows getting preapproval will be next to impossible.

Then she's laid off and her Cobra coverage runs out by book 2, HANG MY HEAD AND CRY. The plan she's forced to take up is the kind President Obama calls Acme Insurance--cheap, high deductibles, and doesn't cover much. By book 3, POISON TO PURGE MELANCHOLY, Pat's starting to have odd symptoms, which she ignores because she knows going to a doctor about them will cost more than she can afford. And ironically, her symptoms are caused in part by poor quality healthcare, bordering on medical negligence.

Fiction? Nope, research. Millions of Americans go through this breed of healthcare crap every day. All Pat's experiences are based on my own or on members of my family.

You want healthcare fiction? Listen to politicians who say we've got the best healthcare in the world and that the majority of Americans like the system as it stands. Now that's fiction.

And if you're a mystery writer and you don't want to deal with the reality of healthcare woes these days, better write historicals, or make your sleuth a U.S. Congressman.

Stay well,
Elena

Random Thoughts on Agatha Award Nominations

2010-02-22T07:43:00.007-05:00

Exactly 10 years ago this month, I received an email telling me that my first novel, BY BLOOD POSSESSED, had been nominated for an Agatha Award. My heart started thumping and the adrenaline rush gave me a headache for 3 days. Agatha nominees are chosen by the folks registered for the annual Malice Domestic Convention, so it's very much a people's choice award. This means that, rather than a small committee judging my book, a big bunch of mystery fans had read it and deemed it award-worthy. I can't tell you how reaffirming and encouraging that feels.

The same morning I got that email, I was scheduled to teach public school students about mystery plots and historical research. Distracted as I was, I still had to do an hour commute and focus on the day. You can't walk into a classroom in a daze. Kids figure out the art of pack hunting in second grade. You can't come across as a maimed gnu.

Fast forward to a few nights ago, when I received my second Agatha Nomination communication, this time about my latest book, DAME AGATHA'S SHORTS: An Agatha Christie Short Story Companion. Heart started thumping again. First thought: SOMEONE ACTUALLY READ MY BOOK! Second thought: ohmygosh, I have to lose weight and buy new clothes by May!

Since this call came at the tail-end of a major blizzard, I still had to deal with getting my car down an alley of 5-inch thick, crater-ridden ice the next morning, so I could get to my day job and earn the money to pay for healthcare--and for a new PC monitor, because that same day, my screen took on a pink tint. And I still had to make sure entries to my uncle's WW2 blog got posted daily. And finish rewrites to my last project. And dig out a path to the cellar door for the electrician coming to fix my basement lights. And I HAD get to a grocery store because more snow is predicted for this week.

In fact, when that call came the other night, after the week I'd been having, I was definitely in "What NOW?" mode.

Polly Whitney is a fellow author, dear friend, and someone who also knows what it's like to wear that "Agatha Nominee" ribbon at Malice Domestic. She told me to remember how Julia Roberts, when accepting her Oscar, told the band to shut up because who knew when she'd be at that podium again.

This week, I feel like asking the chaos in my life to shut up, so I can savor the moment. But it won't. And it shouldn't. Because what would I write about if it did?

To the fans and registered attendees of Malice, thanks, not only for DAME AGATHA's nomination and for the other great books you chose to be honored this year, but for reading and loving mystery books and short stories. We authors are bupkis without you.

Peace,
Elena

MELODRAMA

2010-02-14T07:16:00.002-05:00

Is it me, or is the world becoming ridiculously melodramatic?

"Melodrama" comes from the Greek words for melody and theater. Literally, it's the use of music to heighten the emotional drama of a story. The word has come to be used for overly-emotional stories with one-dimensional characters.

I was at a writing workshop last fall where the presenter said there ought to be drama on every page, and that the protagonist ought to experience worse and worse dangers, right up to where you think, this is it, nothing worse can happen...and then it does.

What came to my mind was "Perils of Pauline"--a series of silent films done in 1914 and remade a few times since, where the heroine is a damsel in constant distress from an assortment of evil stock villains. Thing is, none of the remakes I've seen (and according to my dad, not even the 1933 version) was ever considered anything but satirical comedy. I'm guessing the original silents were comedies too. I mean, by the time Pauline, in the space of a half hour, has gone through enough dangers to give a normal human being PTSD 20 times over, you can't help but laugh at the absurdity. Not to mention the fact that she keeps doing the same stupid things over and over. This kind of melodrama can be great entertainment, but was never meant to be taken seriously.

The presenter of that workshop got me thinking about books I've read lately and TV shows and movies I've seen. Too many of them are too melodramatic and take themselves too seriously. And true to form, most of the visual media come complete with sappy background music. I usually reach the "Oh, please" limit fairly quickly. I'm never pulled into the story. I change channels or switch books.

Come to think of it, I'm a long time Star Trek fan, but stopped liking it when they changed the background music to angst-ridden brass chords (in the middle of Deep Space Nine season 2, if I remember correctly). Each year the writers would come up with more evil unbeatable foes. No more great imaginative plots like the one with the Groundhog-Day-like poker game that replayed itself 4 times. I loved that show.

Don't get me wrong--I don't object to melodrama. I just object to every single thing that attempts to tell me a story these days being sated with emotion. The sameness is BORING. Frankly, even the newscasts have gotten too dramatic. The last decade on local newscasts, I think I've heard the words "something went horribly wrong" more than 1000 times. After the 2nd time, it stopped enhancing the emotional drama. It became annoying. Kills me that their copywriters earn a living for being that unoriginal.

A story that needs that much drama to keep my attention is a poorly told story. Maybe not even a story worth telling. Don't put drama on every page, put a great story on every page and tell it in an engaging manner. The world has enough angst.

Peace,
Elena

Pat Montella in the Kitchen

2010-02-06T10:26:00.009-05:00

Snow is blowing sideways past my window at the moment. We already have a foot of the white stuff on the ground and the storm won't be over for another 10 hours. Yesterday at noon, our local TV news showed the masses of humanity in the grocery stores, loading up not only on Super Bowl munchies, but on milk, bread and eggs. Something about the thought of being snowed in makes people want those 3 items handy. A friend of mine deduced from this that snow=french toast.

The news made me do my own inventory. Lots of eggs, but only 4 slices of bread and slightly more than a cup of milk which was beginning to develop enough of a personality, I knew I'd be throwing it out today if I didn't use it up (I made pudding last night). Did I rush out to the store? No. A few days, even a week, without milk and bread isn't going to kill me. Milk and bread aren't worth fighting those crowds.

But it got me thinking about food. Frankly, it doesn't take much to get me thinking about food.

My protagonist, Pat Montella, loves to cook. When I began the series, I wasn't much of a chef myself. My mom was supreme and undisputed empress of our kitchen when I was growing up. Once in a while, she'd indulge me if I wanted to try a recipe, but I never got those urges often. Why should I when she was such an amazing cook?

But when I was developing Pat's character, I knew I needed to give her some creative outlet for stress and boredom. She couldn't just slog back and forth to her dead-end job each day and watch TV at night. She'd be as dull as she thought she was.

I considered hobbies I'd done first, simply because I knew about them--needlepoint, embroidery, macrame, woodworking, music. Nothing seemed to be a good fit for Pat. Cooking kept niggling at the back of my mind, but I resisted it. For one thing, since Pat was Italian-American, it seemed stereotypical. For another, I'd have to do RESEARCH. You can't make someone sound like a good cook if you have no clue yourself.

I didn't decide for sure until I was writing Pat's first scene with Miss Maggie. All of a sudden, Miss Maggie asked if Pat could make tomato sauce and Pat said yes. That recipe, Grandmom Montella's Zucchini Sauce, I got from hanging over my mom's shoulder at the stove, taking notes as she made it, writing down her measurements for ingredients--that is, a palmful of oregano, a fistful of basil leaves, etc.

My mom died a couple years ago, and about the same time, I was diagnosed with a gluten intolerance (meaning a lot of packaged foods are taboo), so I had to, at last, learn to cook. I found out that I love it as much as Pat. I now have some of my recipes online. You can view them at http://recipes.sparkpeople.com/more-about-me.asp?user=5404215 (or just google Sparkrecipes ElenaSan).

As I get time, I'll be putting Pat's recipes up on the site, in a virtual cookbook titled "From the Pat Montella Mysteries."

As for today, I plan to make a big pot of chicken corn soup. I also remember my mom saying how her mom would lean out their window, scoop fresh snow off the porch roof, add vanilla and sugar, and voila, Italian water ice. Well, the snow on my porch roof now is already up to the window, so....

Who needs milk and bread?

Mangia,
Elena

Elena Santangelo

﻿Mouse Turds on the Cheese

﻿Historical Eating

Musings Stirred Up By a January Wind

Luck in the New Year

Potato, Potahto, Spud

﻿My Favorite Story

Please Support Your Book Farmers

﻿New Holiday Mystery in the (St.) Nick of Time

﻿Listening For Ghosts

﻿The Quest for Saints and Scoundrels

﻿My New Favorite Toy

Buy a Book, Feed the Poor

﻿Here lies NICE

﻿A Case of the Broodies

﻿What's in A Dream?

The Book Industry Could Learn a Thing or Two in Collingswood

﻿You're Probably Wondering Why I Called You All Here

﻿Great Story, Bad Book

The New and Unexpected

Apple Butter and Water

﻿The Forgotten Man at the Bottom

﻿HOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?

﻿EBOOKS: Fear Itself and Two-Faced

Retreat, Regroup

Doodle Comes to Visit

﻿Reading 'Mid Chaos

Weeding

Just Visiting

﻿I Farm, Therefore I Am (a Santangelo)

Don't Make A Will Or You'll Die

Why Do You Choose Certain Authors?

It's Here!

﻿Too Many Hats

﻿Answers to 3rd Quiz

Never Fear Fear Itself Contest #3 - Win a Free Book!

Miss Maggie on First

Remember Thou Art Dust

FEAR ITSELF Trailer and Answers to Contest #2

Who Says What and How Often?

Contest Quiz # 2 - Win a Nifty Prize!

On The Air

Contest Results and Working in the Real World

Win a Free Book!

The Frog in My Throat

Happy New Year

AVISIT FROM ST. NICK, Finale

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK, Part 3

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK, Part 2

A VISIT FROM ST. NICK

The Ravin'

Getting Your Books Out There

THEN & NOW: Cholera & Other Lessons

Variety: the Herb of Life

﻿The Reader as Chump

﻿Learning from the Unexpected

﻿Writers Helping Writers

﻿SUBPLOTS

﻿A Parody For My Sisters & Brothers in Crime

﻿The Writer on TV

﻿Happy Birthday, Dame Agatha!

﻿The Author As Cover Artist

﻿Old Faithful

﻿"Worthy" of Publication?

﻿RETREAT? Or Charge Ahead?

﻿BUILDING A FOUNDATION

﻿HATE MAIL

﻿Zee Nom De Plume

﻿Learning to be Creative

A Parody That's Good For The Heart

﻿Don't

﻿For the Insomniac

﻿Let Me Check My Crystal Ball

﻿The Case of the Missing Mystery

﻿Perception of Truth

﻿Discouragement, Then & Now

MACAVITY NOM!!!

﻿Manuscript Format

Anthony Nom!

Memorial Day

Mouse Turds on the Cheese

Historical Eating

My Favorite Story

New Holiday Mystery in the (St.) Nick of Time

Listening For Ghosts

The Quest for Saints and Scoundrels

My New Favorite Toy

Here lies NICE

A Case of the Broodies

What's in A Dream?

You're Probably Wondering Why I Called You All Here

Great Story, Bad Book

The Forgotten Man at the Bottom

HOT ENOUGH FOR YOU?

EBOOKS: Fear Itself and Two-Faced

Reading 'Mid Chaos

I Farm, Therefore I Am (a Santangelo)

Too Many Hats

Answers to 3rd Quiz

The Reader as Chump

Learning from the Unexpected

Writers Helping Writers

SUBPLOTS

A Parody For My Sisters & Brothers in Crime

The Writer on TV

Happy Birthday, Dame Agatha!

The Author As Cover Artist

Old Faithful

"Worthy" of Publication?

RETREAT? Or Charge Ahead?

BUILDING A FOUNDATION

HATE MAIL

Zee Nom De Plume

Learning to be Creative

Don't

For the Insomniac

Let Me Check My Crystal Ball

The Case of the Missing Mystery

Perception of Truth

Discouragement, Then & Now

Manuscript Format

The Thrill of the Blank Screen

MEDITATIONS ON EARTH DAY

Planting Seeds

How Not to Write A How-To

English as a Second Language

One Day at A Time

Healthcare Mayhem

Random Thoughts on Agatha Award Nominations

MELODRAMA

Pat Montella in the Kitchen