They Can’t All Be Red Herrings, Right?

/in , , , , /by

By Lois Winston

I’m currently writing my 12th Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery. This one is tentatively titled A Crafty Collage of Crime. As some of you may remember, I moved from New Jersey to Tennessee a year and a half ago. Since then, many people have asked if Anastasia will eventually make the move south. My answer is an emphatic, “No!” Anastasia is a diehard Jersey Girl and will remain firmly planted in the Garden State.

However, I have decided that in this book, Anastasia and Zack will take a trip to Middle Tennessee wine country. Yes, there are wineries in Tennessee. Who knew? Certainly not me until I moved here, but it turns out that there were quite a few wineries in the area before Prohibition, and after Prohibition ended, the wine industry slowly began to revitalize. It’s now once again thriving.

Anastasia and Zack find themselves in Tennessee because Zack has accepted an assignment to photograph the local wineries for a spread in a national wine publication. Anastasia travels to Tennessee with him. Of course, she immediately discovers a dead body. (Doesn’t she always?)

Now, here’s my dilemma: I have a basic plot and characters fleshed out, but I have so many potential suspects, that I’m finding it difficult to choose which will be the killer. Any one of them would work. I’m thinking I may have to write the book several ways, with a different killer for each version, before I settle on the real killer. That’s a lot of extra work. So I’m hoping that as I continue to work on chapters, the killer will eventually reveal himself to me.

If you’re a reader, have you ever read a mystery where you thought one of the other characters should have been the killer? If you’re an author, do you always know right away who your killer will be, or does the killer sometimes change as you write the book?

Death by Killer Mop Doll, the second book in my Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mysteries, is now available as an audiobook through Audible, iTunes, and Amazon. If you’d like a chance to win a promo code for a free download, post a comment.

~*~

USA Today and Amazon bestselling and award-winning author Lois Winston writes mystery, romance, romantic suspense, chick lit, women’s fiction, children’s chapter books, and nonfiction under her own name and her Emma Carlyle pen name. Kirkus Reviews dubbed her critically acclaimed Anastasia Pollack Crafting Mystery series, “North Jersey’s more mature answer to Stephanie Plum.” In addition, Lois is a former literary agent and an award-winning craft and needlework designer who often draws much of her source material for both her characters and plots from her experiences in the crafts industry. Learn more about Lois and her books at her website www.loiswinston.com where you can also sign up for her newsletter and follow her on various social media sites.

Happy Holiday!

/in , , /by

A Husband’s Tale —by T.K. Thorne

/in /by

Yes, I am Jewish and don’t “officially” celebrate Christmas, but well, I’ll let my husband tell it [except for my added comments, of course.]:

“She had me at Dickens. You need a bit of backstory to understand that.

During some of my wife’s travels earlier this year, she discovered a Dickens festival in some far away world called California. Being a wonderful wife, [this is my favorite part] and knowing my deep affinity for anything related to Charles Dickens, Mrs. Thorne started formulating a plan to get us to that festival as a way to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary and my birthday. I choose not to release the number of anniversaries of the day I made my appearance on this planet, but suffice it to say this year was a milestone.

Saying I sorta like Dickens’ writing is like claiming Elmer Fudd sorta likes to hunt wabbits. I’ve read everything Dickens wrote (more than once) especially all the works regarding Christmas. Yes, there is more than A Christmas Carol, but I’ll spare you the list. I also love to watch the many, many, many versions of ACC that have been produced on film. I dare not tell you my favorite for fear of influencing you, but suffice it to say I watch them all, every year. My darling wife  [Why doesn’t he talk like this the rest of the year?] flees in distress when she hears the opening line, “Marley was dead, to begin with.” I can “hear” her eyes roll even though she may be in another room when she realizes what I’m watching.

The problem for her was to get me to the mystical land of California and keep it a surprise. I suppose after discarding the idea of using a baseball bat and burlap sack, she decided the best course of action was to just ‘fess up; she told me about the event and asked, “Would you be interested in going?” My heart skipped a beat and I tried to contain my joy. I replied, I think in an even voice, “Yes, but why don’t we go to the one here in Alabama?”

You see, I knew that just up the road in Tuscumbia, they’ve had a Dickens festival for the last eight years. It’s called “It’s a Dickens Christmas Y’all!” I discovered it in a North Alabama tourist booklet last year, but knew my wife would never want to go immerse herself in my Dickens fantasy, so I stuck the information in a drawer.

Here is where this little story reminds me of another favorite writer. Do you remember O. Henry’s The Gift of the Magi? In it both husband and wife give up something important in order to buy Christmas gifts. The wife sold her long, lovely hair to buy a chain for her husband’s prized pocket watch; he sold the watch to purchase the jeweled hair combs she had long admired. The story is about sacrifice in the name of love.

In our case, my sacrifice was stifling the desire to check out Tuscumbia’s festival by tucking the brochure away and hers was a bit of her sanity in offering to go.

This story has a happy ending because we did go and both had the jolliest of times. It was the best gift I have ever received. Not only did we attend, we went in costume, which is not a requirement, but enhances the experience.

[These photos are from our return trip this year-2022.Left to right, with ghost Marley and Christmas Future, with Tiny Tim, and carriage ride.]

Thorne

There were plenty of events that catered to kids. Even though I felt like a youngster, we didn’t go to those. Instead we went to a feast on Friday night and the light and water show in the park on Saturday night. Between those two, we packed in a snack of scones, a reading of ACC, a canine costume contest, poetry, music, a carriage ride, and wandering around the town enjoying the food, the shops, and most of all, the people.

The volunteer Tuscumbia Retail Development group organizes the festival with the help of the city council. If you’re interested in going next year, give the folks there a call at 256-383-9797. They are the most sincere, friendliest, fun-loving group of ladies it has been my privilege to meet. From the moment we met, they treated us like old friends, and now we are. [Indeed!]

We will not be waiting until the Christmas season to visit Tuscumbia again though. There’s plenty to do and see anytime including the Alabama Music Hall of Fame, Belle Mont Mansion, Cane Creek Canyon Nature Preserve, Railroad Depot Museum, and Ivy Green, the birthplace of Helen Keller. As for the Dickens festival, we’ll be there next year. Hope you will join us.

Merry Christmas, y’all!”* [And Happy Hanukkah!  …You didn’t think I’d let him get the last word, did you?]

T.K.Thorne is a retired police captain who writes Books, which, like this blog, go wherever her curiosity and imagination take her.  More at TKThorne.com

*Originally printed in The Blount Countian (Dec 25, 2019) by Roger Thorne

 

The Best Thanksgiving Movie Ever?

/in /by

By Barbara J. Eikmeier

The Last Waltz was showing at the Sunrise Theater at 730 pm on Thanksgiving night. Our hostess attends every year. I was intrigued. What movie can possibly be so great that a person would go to see it every year?

As it turns out, The Last Waltz isn’t an ordinary movie, and the Sunrise Theater experience is far from ordinary.

I was in Southern Pines, NC on Thanksgiving for the second time ever. Our friend toured us through the historic downtown, with the railroad running right down the middle of Broad Street! When we turned the corner near the Sunrise Theater, I noticed, “The Last Waltz, Thurs 730” on the marquee. I remembered seeing the movie in my previous visit, so naturally I asked, “Are we going to the movie tomorrow night?”

Southern Pines, NC 2022

The Last Waltz released in 1978. If you aren’t familiar with the story, it’s about the farewell concert performed in 1976 by The Band. After 16 years of touring, The Band had decided to retire from live performances. For their last concert they wanted something special – a celebration. They chose the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco as the venue, because that’s where they got their first big break. Then they invited other Rock and Roll legends to perform with them.

The Last Waltz, The Band – Image from wikimedia

As we filed into the Sunrise Theater with others in the 60-70 yr old set, I was amused to also see thirty-somethings and elementary school kids in the crowd. The old, refurbished theater, closed after the economic downturn of the 70s and 80s, had been saved by the community and now operates as a non-profit bringing live theater and film events to Southern Pines. Next door is an outdoor stage with a large grassy area for summer programs.

We found our seats as the lights dimmed. When The Band took the stage (in the movie) and shouted, “Happy Thanksgiving!” The crowd (in the movie and in the present-day movie theater) cheered wildly! That was my first clue that this was not going to be an ordinary movie going experience.

The audience held nothing back, hooting, hollering, cheering and whistling as their favorite singer appeared in the movie. When the camera panned in on drummer, Levon Helm, from the back of the theater a deep, masculine voice bellowed, “Yeah! Leeeeeevoooon!”

From the clusters of audience cheers we could tell where the Neil Young fans were sitting. And Joni Mitchell’s. When Van Morrison took the stage, the man two rows behind us yelled “Van the Man!” As Morrison spiked the air with his arm and kicked one more time, loud clapping and cheering filled the theater. Enthusiastic appreciation continued for Emmylou Harris, Muddy Waters and Dr. John. Fans sang along with Eric Clapton and Neil Diamond. When Bob Dylan sang “Forever Young” I sensed the end nearing.  I dabbed at my tears, caught up in the moment, cheering just because those around me were cheering. It was fantastic!

When asked how long it’s been a Southern Pine Thanksgiving tradition my hostess said, “Maybe five years.” But I knew that wasn’t right because when I saw it five years ago it was “at least ten years.”

A bearded man holding his sweetheart’s hand said, “Well, I’m 30 and I’ve been going since I was a kid.”

An attractive older woman, her grey hair pulled into a long braid, said, “Pretty much forever.”

Each year the showing is free to the public thanks to sponsorship by local business, Howell Masonry. During 2020, in spite of the Covid-19 pandemic, the show went on, playing on a screen at the outdoor stage.

There’s something heart-warming about being in a crowd of jubilant people. These are people who love Rock and Roll or holiday traditions or just being a part of a community. They were little kids, who had become adults and now attend with their parents and their own children.

Small town rituals are rich with material for writers. While I don’t have plans to write the Sunrise Theater into a novel, I can harvest the memory of this event for character traits (“Yeah! Leeeeevooon!”), dialog peppered with dialect, a hometown setting and a unique holiday tradition. After all, in Southern Pines they say The Last Waltz is the best Thanksgiving movie ever!

Barbara J. Eikmeier is a quilter, writer, student of quilt history, and lover of small-town America. Raised on a dairy farm in California, she enjoys placing her characters in rural communities.

Let Us Eat Cake

/in , , /by
Read more

Advent Ghosts or Who Can Write the Most Frightening Drabble?

/in , , /by

by Paula Gail Benson

For thirteen years, Loren Eaton has hosted an event called Advent Ghosts to celebrate the tradition made famous by Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, which is to entertain readers and listeners with holiday stories featuring the paranormal. Scary, spooky, or simply speculative fiction is welcome — with one required element — each story must be a “drabble,” or exactly one hundred words.

I joined the fun in 2016 with “Ever Here,” about a spouse lost in a flood who is commemorated by the remaining spouse at Christmas. During 2019, I experimented with a number of fairy tale drabbles. In 2020, I contributed “Tribute,” where an undecorated tombstone is pitied by the living and adorned by the dead. For 2021, I relied upon Icelandic legend with “The Yule Cat’s Fury.” This year, I dealt with family loss and a neglected Advent calendar in “Traditions.”

Moriah Richard’s Writer’s Digest article, “What is a Drabble in Writing?” explains: “The term itself is said to come from Monty Python’s 1971 Big Red Book, which describes a game called Drabble where players compete to write a novel. In the 1980s, the Birmingham University SF society is credited for setting the story’s length at 100 words.”

Richard goes on to note that other short forms have developed from drabble, including the dribble (55 words), the double drabble (200 words), the trabble (300 words), and the pentadrabble (500 words). She also directs readers to 100wordstory.org to read excellent examples of drabbles.

Meanwhile, I recommend that you go straight to Loren Eaton’s ISawLightningFall.blogspot.com to read a series of delightfully sinister holiday drabbles. Contributors may publish their drabbles on their own blogs and Loren will provide connecting links, or they may send their stories for Loren to post.

Reading these terrific shorts is a great way to spend an evening curled up with some hot chocolate and cookies. You can even gift the authors by providing some immediate feedback in the comments!

Better yet why not join the fun by offering your own drabble next year!

Happy holidays!

Bethany Maines drinks from an arsenic mug

Battery Life

/in , /by

My battery life be like…

Whew! I rolled into November like I thought I was Rocky and I’m hitting mid-December like I’m Rocky after going the distance with Apollo Creed.  I caught the flu over Thanksgiving weekend and that took me down right when I wanted to be hard charging into Christmas decorating! Combined with my efforts to wrap up my NaNoWriMo manuscript and a couple of work projects cropping up with some deadlines and I’m now a few bars short of a full battery.  Is it possible for a human to get some sort of extended battery life?  Because that would be great.

Plug-in and Recharge

So what do I plan on doing about this flat feeling?  Well, you know what they say… It’s not Christmas until Hans Gruber falls off the Nakatomi Towers.  So I’ll be putting on my Nakatomi Towers Christmas Party shirt and watching a few Christmas classics like Die Hard and White Christmas and then maybe eating a bunch of chocolate.  And oh yeah, doing all my last minute shopping online.  I want to shop local, but you know what else I want?  More time on the couch.

Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox

In case you don’t know that heading refers to a country song about a gentleman’s instructions about what to do with his dead body – you can view the Weekend at Bernie’s hijinks here.  But I may have to take a similar approach to my computer.  Or at least invest in some sort of carpal tunnel wrist braces because I’ve got a fat stack of edits on a Christmas Mystery script (see the novella version below) and book three of the Rejects Trilogy that both need to be done by January.  Hee hee.  I’m sure this will end well.

What to Read

While you’re waiting to see if I crash and burn or wait breathlessly to see what the mummies and werewolves get up to in the Rejects Pack, please consider picking up Winter Wonderland.

WINTER WONDERLAND

A Holiday Adventure

When a Marcus Winter, a photographer with a bah humbug take on the holidays, meets Larissa Frost, a set designer who loves all things Christmas, sparks are destined to fly, but when a famous diamond goes missing from the shoot they’re working on Larissa finds that Marcus may be the only one who can keep her from being framed for a crime she didn’t commit.

BUY NOW

***

Bethany Maines is the award-winning author of action-adventure and fantasy tales that focus on women who know when to apply lipstick and when to apply a foot to someone’s hind end. She can usually be found chasing after her daughter, or glued to the computer working on her next novel (or screenplay).  You can also catch up with her on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and BookBub.

Creating Colorful Characters

/in , , , , , , /by

For novelists, creating a memorable character that jumps off the page and into a reader’s imagination is darn hard to do. Which is why I frequently envy the person working at his desk in the other room, who always seems to be having fun.

Critters by Don

When my husband retired, people who knew him speculated on how he would spend his time once he left the company he’d founded. Write a book about his ground-breaking career? Open a restaurant? Learn to sail?

Nobody expected him to become a trash collector, but that’s exactly what he did. And then he created colorful characters from what he found.

The first creations came from a long-neglected “junk” drawer. Once he had repurposed most of that supply into a few funny faces, he expanded his search for more bits and pieces outdoors, where he struck it rich.

Don’s Doo-dads

We live near a big city park with hundreds and sometimes thousands of visitors daily: runners, joggers, walkers, golfers, picnickers, folks pushing strollers and herding children. They come to ride the zoo train, see the animals, meditate in the Japanese garden, steer the paddle boats, or simply sit under a 100-year oak and feed the squirrels.

After a day of family fun, there’s always stuff left behind: a random baby shoe or sock, an odd earring, a broken barrette, the cap from a juice drink, the innards of a smashed calculator or mobile phone. If he comes across an interesting piece of detritus, he’ll bring it home and turn it into a piece of whimsy.

Besides the stand-alone Critters, he’s made magnetic Doo-dads that can be worn on clothing or stuck on the fridge. These funny-faced eye-catchers tend to be conversation starters, which encourages him to make more. Neighbors have donated their own odds and ends, eager to contribute to the process.

DELETE, Ms. Elegant, and Bad Hair Day

With each face, a unique personality emerges. A character you might want to meet, or avoid. A face that reminds you of someone you know, or would rather forget. Sometimes I grab a magnet pin to wear, depending to my mood. Feeling spiffy? Bad hair day? Or, if the writing’s not going well, I may sport the one with the DELETE button for a mouth. Enough said.

From time to time, someone asks to buy a piece, but the creator is not keen on selling. For now, his Critters & Doodads reside on shelves and inside cabinets, and only come out on request.

Yet every time a new Critter or Doo-dad emerges from a box of junk, it’s guaranteed to bring smiles. And these days, we all can use more of those. Including novelists.

Is there a silly something that brings you joy?

Gay Yellen is the award-winning author of the Samantha Newman Mystery Series, including The Body Business, The Body Next Door, and the upcoming Body in the News.

 

Best Advice: Do You Know or Do You Think You Know?

/in , , /by

By: Donnell Ann Bell

Years ago, I belonged to an online mystery critique group in which I met my good friends Annette Dashofy, Rosemarie Szotak, as well as various critique partners in Australia, Canada, and beyond. There was one individual in our group who was a terrific writer and well versed in geography and military affairs. His protagonist was a military officer, and he and his sidekick went everywhere to complete their missions.  In fact, his first working title was, “To the Ends of the Earth.”

I confess I’m not a world traveler. The most international travel I’ve done has been as far as Canada and Mexico. So, I was rather intimidated when he wrote about places like East Timor, Somalia, and Egypt.

The reason I mention my writing colleague is he often challenged me when reading my work by saying, “Is this true?”  “Do you know, or do you think you know?”

That always gave me pause and made an impression. Perhaps that’s why when I research, I double check and often triple check facts from alternate sources to get my story as correct as humanly possible.

Which sadly can be a challenge. I don’t think it’s any secret that the world is a v-e-r-y opinionated place. Thanks to social media, twenty-four-hour news cycles, and provocative information designed as clickbait, it’s so easy to read a headline (that often has little to do with the article), peruse said article, and believe we’re coming away with the truth.

I watch The Good Fight (admitted fictional entertainment), and on a couple of episodes it showed how easy it was to post videos on the internet that appeared well-documented and authentic. It’s astounding how much data comes at us daily. Time is money, sensationalism sells, and media outlets have more competition than ever—professionals and amateurs alike—are writing, filming, and posting. Breaking news attracts viewers and boosts algorithms. Readers copy links. Others forward to their friends and family, and so on, and so on . . . .

I believe my first job as a storyteller is to check my research. I may be writing fiction, but I’m not writing fantasy. What I publish should believable fiction. Often, if I’m unsure, I’ll abandon articles and seek out experts.

Back to that long-ago critique partner, when emailing our chapters back and forth, I admitted how little I knew about world geography. He responded with, “Go get your globe.” I did, then via email, he said, “Now using your finger, follow my lead.” That method was better than any geography class I could have taken. To this day, when reading international articles where I’m unsure of the location, I enlist my globe.

My critique partner’s advice, “Do you know? Or do you think you know? influences my writing to this day. Have you received a  piece of advice that has stayed with you for years?

About the Author: Donnell Ann Bell is an award-winning author, her latest work, a series, includes Until Dead: a Cold Case Suspense, released in 2022, Black Pearl, a Cold Case Suspense  2020 Colorado Book Award finalist. Donnell’s single title books include, Buried Agendas, Betrayed, Deadly Recall and the Past Came Hunting, all of which have been Amazon bestsellers. Currently she’s writing book three of her cold case series.  www.donnellannbell.com

 

 

 

 

My Mother’s Slippers by Debra H. Goldstein

/in , /by

My Mother’s Slippers by Debra H. Goldstein

At this time of year, I think about my mother. She was a driving force in my life until her unexpected death in 2014. There are still times when I want to pick up the phone and share good news with her or ask for her advice, but I can’t. What I can do is keep a part of her with me – her slippers.

Not the pair she wore, but one of twenty or thirty pairs of the identical slippers that she hoarded. My mother was an atypical hoarder. Everything in her house was always perfectly in place and her kitchen floor was so clean that one could eat off of it. Newspapers and magazines were thrown out once read; finished books, except for ones I wrote, were loaned to friends, or donated; and clothes were stylish but took up no more than a closet.

Her hoarding fetish involved shoes. She loved them. Because she had a hard to fit foot (super narrow and only a six or six and one-half), if she found a pair of shoes to fit, she bought them — in every color. If she found something she loved was going to be discontinued, she stocked up on them. The thing about my mother was that she wore all of those shoes. Each one matched an outfit or a mood and while she kept them carefully boxed on shelves in her closet, she believed in wearing and enjoying them.

After she died, my sister and I relished the memory of her cute outfits and her shoes. I was only saddened by the fact that while we had the same shoe size, our feet were just different enough that the last that fit her didn’t work for me. What did work were her slippers. She had found a pair of step-in flower-patterned slippers that she loved because they were narrow enough to stay on and soft enough not to rub her foot. She wore that particular brand for years and when she discovered they were being discontinued, she bought up every pair she could find. When she passed away, there were twenty plus pairs that had never been worn. I tried one on and they were perfect. Although I didn’t take them all, I brought several pairs home with me. Seven years later, morning or night, I think of my mother as I step into a pair of her slippers. The wonderful thing is that I know she will still be with me for years to come because of the ones I have yet to begin using.

Do you have anything passed down from a parent that reminds you of them regularly or that you have that may give someone continuing memories of you?

© Copyright - The Stiletto Gang