Short Stories

We went to the September Sisters in Crime Nor Cal (henceforth known as SinC NC) meeting a couple Saturdays ago and, along with some most excellent food and beverage (this was a potluck at one of the Sister’s houses), we were treated to a talk by Sophie Littlefield on the subject of short stories.

Sophie is also a romance writer and recently signed a three book deal.  Unlike a lot of novelists, Sophie loves to write short stories. She’s one of the few I’ve met who actually thinks its easier to write a short story than a novel.  I personally cringe at the thought of having to wrap up a story in fewer than 12,000 words and this is only in the horror or fantasy genre.

I have written short stories.  My first published piece was actually a short story in Cat Fantastic IV, an anothology edited by the feline loving sci-fi and fantasy author Andre Norton. The story was co-written with afore-mentioned pal Brad.  I’ve published two other short stories, both with zombies as their central theme.  One hard-boiled zombie noir and the other black humor set in Hollywood.  I had fun writing all three, but never any calling to write more until I wrote a story for my boyfriend.  This story, CHAMPAGNE, is what got me my first introduction to Ravenous Romance (the name is just calling out for a romantic zombie story, I’m telling ya…) and now I have another short story due at the end of the week.   There’s a little bit of denial going on there… but I’ll get it done!

My friend Brad Linaweaver is another prolific short story writer.  He’s constantly writing something for this anthology or that magazine and while he’s primarily known for his science fiction, he happily surfs all genres.   If I recollect correctly, Sophie has written in every genre except for science fiction.  Maybe these two should get together and breed a race of short story writing super geniuses.  Hmm…

The beginning, middle and end part of short stories is difficult for me.  I recently went through a box of old writing from grade school up through high school and most of my short story assignments ended with a ‘to be continued’ cliffhanger rather than a definitive conclusion. I’m sure I must have driven my teachers crazy.  I did have a few completed stories in the bunch,including a forgotten series called Desert Horse I’d written about the adventures of Justin and his horse Thunderbolt…and a couple of rather horrific pieces with evil twins coming back from the dead and vampires (the teacher marked these with a large A and the admonition ‘try writing something less morbid next time.’  But mostly what I’d written were the beginning of novels. I was amazed how many half-started ideas I’d had when I was growing up.

So I am in much admiration of people with the ability to tell a complete story in a few pages or even less than 12,000 words.  No padding.  Nothing extra.

I’ve only succeeded at absolute bare bones once, back when I first took pencil to paper and wrote my very first story at the age of five or six.  It was called THE END OF THE SUN.
Ahem.

One day the sun came out.
The next day the sun did not come out.
It was the end of the sun.

Beginning, middle, end.  Nothing extra.  You’d think I’d have been a natural at this short story stuff by now…

Sunday is a Day of Rest

Boy, this blog challenge is a pest!

Sorry…I’ve got Marvin-itis and felt this uncontrollable urge to rhyme…

Definitely off to a slow start today. Dave and I went to a wine tasting and sushi dinner with the Julie half of Hailey Lind (the two sister writing team of the Art Lover mysteries) last night and we had a very fun evening. It wasn’t a lot of wine or a lot of sake, but it took a while for me to consider getting out of bed to be a good idea.

Julie is also the President of Sisters in Crime Nor Cal and one of those people who will always have ageless beauty. Her eyes and her smile are the first thing one notices about her; she has the kind of smile that lights up a room. I think I’ve mentioned in a past post about Left Coast Crime how I was wandering around my first day feeling out of place and uncharacteristically shy until Julie greeted me, took me under her wing and invited me out for drinks with a small group of people. That gesture and getting to know just a few people over drinks broke the social ice for me at Left Coast Crime and I ended up having a blast. Julie is the perfect person to be president of an organization (except maybe the Mafia, although she’d probably be a very beloved Don…er…Donna?) and is also one hell of a good writer (as is her sister, who I have not met).

I’ve read all three of the Art Lovers mysteries, although I managed to read them in backwards chronological order. I was amazed at how few (if any) spoilers occurred by reading them that way; there were no major plot recaps of the previous books, no ‘I wish I’d known two months ago that so and so was actually a murderer. This is a problem I’ve been wrestling with while writing my sequel – how to bring back characters who were prime suspects in MFH #1 without spoiling it for someone who, like myself, reads things out of sequence? So hats off to Hailey (both of ’em).

These books are all funny, fast-paced and full of interesting details about art – the heroine, Annie is an artist and has a business (like Julie herself) doing art restoration, faux finishing, painting murals and whatever else comes along. The writing style is very reminiscent of Elizabeth Peters in her heyday, namely the Vicky Bliss/John Smythe series, which happens to be my favorite. It was a pleasure to discover this series and I am now royally pissed that Hailey’s publisher has decided not to release any more of them. Way too many unfinished character developments, publisher person! It takes a few books in any series before they pick up a huge following, but it’s worth the investment and these books do have an ever expanding audience. Hailey Lind does have a new series coming out, which sounds equally intriguing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to find out what happens with Annie’s two love interests.

I have stolen these three synopses from Hailey’s home page (link provided above). If you haven’t read these, give them a try. If you have, write a letter to Hailey’s publisher and tell them to keep the series going!

Book Three—Brush with Death: Working nights to restore murals in a building full of cremated remains is strange enough, but chasing a crypt-robbing ghoul through a graveyard is downright creepy. In Brush with Death, San Francisco artist Annie Kincaid finds herself drawn into a decades-old mystery involving some illustrious graveyard residents and Raphael’s most intimate portrait, dubbed La Fornarina, or “the little baker girl”. Could the Raphael “copy” hanging amidst funerary urns actually be the priceless original? Is the masked crypt-robber somehow connected to the Raphael? Or is the painting part of a larger puzzle involving Annie’s unrepentant grandfather, master art forger Georges LeFleur, and an Italian “fakebuster” out to ruin him? Annie’s under pressure to figure things out…before she finds her permanent home amongst the ashes.

Book Two—Shooting Gallery: Modernism isn’t Annie’s thing, but even she is surprised to discover that the “sculpture” in a prestigious gallery’s grisly new exhibition is an all-too-real corpse—the artist’s. Meanwhile, a Chagall painting is stolen from the Brock Museum, and Annie’s old friend Bryan is accused of being in on the fix. To track down the missing Chagall, she’ll need the dubious assistance of a certain sexy art thief. And if Michael—or whatever his real name may be—isn’t distraction enough, Annie’s mother shows up in town, acting strangely. Annie’s got to solve these mysteries, and fast—because art is long, but life can be very, very short.

Book One—Feint of Art: Annie’s got bad news for her ex-boyfriend, curator Ernst Pettigrew; The snooty Brock Museum’s new fifteen-million-dollar Caravaggio painting is as fake as a three-dollar bill. Then, the same night Annie makes her shattering appraisal, the janitor on duty in the museum is killed—and Ernst disappears. To top it all off, a well-known art dealer has absconded with multiple Old Master drawings, leaving forgeries in their places. Finding the originals and pocketing the reward money will help Annie get her landlord off her back. But a close encounter with a fickle yet charming art thief could draw her into the underworld of fakes and forgers she swore she’d left behind…

Taking a short break from cozies

I’ve been expanding my reading list over the last year. Up to the point I joined Sisters in Crime and started hanging out with fellow writers, I only read mysteries within my preferred genre: humorous cozies. Then, after meeting Simon Wood, then president of the Sisters in Crime NorCal chapter, I decided I really needed to give his book, PAY THE PIPER a try. I also picked up a copy of TUNNELS by Michelle Gagnon. Both are definitely NOT cozy (the books, that is. Simon and Michelle are both kinda cute and cozy); they are disturbing psychological and sometimes graphically horrific thrillers. But despite the lack of food and clothing description and amateur sleuths who date cops, I myself enthralled by both books. Rather like the day when I was 10 or so and my taste buds suddenly decided they LIKED lasagna and cheesecake, I found I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for this hard-edged style of mystery thriller. I picked up several of the Irene Kelly mysteries by Jan Burke, both of whom I’d met at Left Coast Crime (and yes, I KNOW I haven’t finished writing about my experiences there yet…picture me shuffling my feet and hanging my head in shame.) Both were extremely nice and personable, although Jan Burke seemed almost shyer than I was when I talked to her – as are Simon and Michelle.

All of these books have several things in common as well: tons of suspense, believably flawed and interesting heroes/heroines, twisted villains, and, as mentioned earlier, they are REALLY disturbing in parts. They also wouldn’t allow me to my usual juggling two or three books at a time (I tend to keep one in the bathroom, one on the bedside table, and one in my purse for travel) routine. OH no, these books wouldn’t allow competition. “Put that friggin’ cozy mystery down, you!” They wanted to be read all the way through without interruption (I just read Michelle’s second book, BONEYARD and carried it with me everywhere, including to the bathroom at work).

I really wanted each and everyone of these books to end well, without losing any of the main or subsidiary characters I’d become fond during the read, and I had to continually stop myself from flipping to the last chapter to make sure I wasn’t going to be VERY upset with the authors. I really hate getting attached to characters only to have them die horribly on me. As to whether or not this happens in any of the books mentioned, I’m not gonna say. I will just say that despite whatever fates these authors decided on for their characters, I found their books compelling enough to read more of them. Not that I’m forswearing my cozies! I’m just expanding my literary taste buds.

Murder in Miniature – Book Review

Several days behind, but still determined to do my one review a week (or am I now a week behind?…never mind), here I am with my review of Margaret Grace’s new mystery, MURDER IN MINIATURE.  For those of you not in the know, Margaret Grace is the pen name of Camille Minichino, well known for her popular Periodic Table mysteries featuring witty physicist Gloria Lamerino.  I’ve been lucky to meet Camille/Margaret through Sisters in Crime and, like the other writers I’ve met recently, she’s as witty and fun in person as she is as a writer.

Murder in Miniature is the first entry in Margaret’s new Miniature Mystery series, featuring recently widowed Geraldine Porter,  retired and now able to devote her time to her favorite craft, building miniatures.  Gerry is juggling chairing the local Dollhouse and Miniature fair while babysitting her precocious granddaughter when a troubled friend and fellow miniaturist goes missing.  Murder quickly follows and Gerry is drawn into the thick of things against her own better judgment, not to mention that of her nephew Skip, who just happens to be on the local police force.

And that’s all the plot you’re getting from me ’cause I don’t want any spoilers here!

Gerry is a likable heroine.  Her grief at the loss of her husband, protectiveness towards her granddaughter, and desire to be a good friend, whether or not some of her friends deserve her loyalty, give her a core of believable vulnerability.  The character of the granddaughter is precocious without being irritating; she just happens to be smarter than most kids her age and yet still easily bribable with pizza and ice cream.  The cast of suspects gives the reader plenty of possible perps to choose from and you’re kept guessing through most of the book.

My favorite parts, though, were the loving and detailed description of the miniature construction, from how to make DVDs and books for a miniature library to using the little white ‘tables’ in delivery pizzas as the inspiration for an Italian restaurant miniature.  Grace gives the reader an insight into the mind of a miniaturist and how every day items (‘found’ items) are seen for their potential and given new life.  Absolutely fascinating stuff and guaranteed to make readers think twice before throwing anything away!

I am the Liberty Bell!

I went to a Capitol Crimes (Sisters in Crime, Sacramento Chapter) meeting this Saturday as the guest speaker.  Dave went with me, in a combination of pack horse (he lugged the book boxes), actor and moral support.  My sister Lisa also joined us as she was up from Venice Beach for her birthday.   We drove separate cars from our house to Sacramento as Lisa has a sometimes cranky back and my Saturn, which would have fit all three of us and our gear,  is not necessarily the best car for that.  She has a Mini, a cute little red and white one, and although it’s comfy and adorable, it does not have the trunk space we needed for the trip. 

We rendezvoused at Perko’s Grill and Cafe in Rancho Cordova where the Sacto Sisters have lunch before their meetings.  They were just a delightful group of women, some professional writers themselves, some aspiring authors, all of them voracious readers and so nice!  Dave was an honorary Sister for the day and handled himself well as the only male in a group of around 20 women.  No huge shock, that.  And they didn’t seem to mind the extra shot of testosterone he brought to the mix.  Lisa had just gotten her own literary agent (yay, Lisa!), so she fit right in the conversation and had some good advice to share.  

The meeting itself was at the Rancho Cordova Library.  Now I’d mapped out the journey weeks in advance, using Google Maps.  Oh, foul Google Maps!   Assuring the helpful Sisters I knew how to get to the library, we set off following the directions I’d googled (as did Lisa, who had the same directions as us) and ended up on the correct street, but going in the wrong direction.   We figured this out as the addresses went up in number instead of down to the 9000 block, where the library was.  D’oh!!!  So we flipped a U (and I mentally flipped off Google Maps) and drove as fast as the traffic would allow down Folsom, a busy street with many stoplights and more Sunday drivers than should be legal on a Saturday.  

 I will admit to being a little (a lot!) stressed.  I hate being late and every minute the clocked ticked closer to 1:00, the higher my blood pressure rose and the more vociferous my swearing became.    When poor Dave tried to calm me down, I’d snarl “I. Just. Have. To Get. This OUT OF MY SYSTEM!” 

Now in my defense we’d received some very bad news Friday in the late afternoon and we were already dealing with a huge amount of stress.  I like to think I’d have been a little calmer had things been different, but I’m sure there would have at least been some mild cursing.  As I said, I hate being late.  I knew in the back of my mind the Sisters had business to take care of before my presentation and my being 5-10 minutes late wouldn’t hold up the meeting, but the rational part of my brain was obviously being held at gunpoint by my inner White Rabbit ’cause common sense never made it past the ‘omigod, I’m LATE!!’

We finally made it to the library, which is located about three blocks away from Perko’s.  Sigh.   Got the books, the presentation board with all the old MFH material, the boombox and noir cds, and ourselves inside and all was well.  Two of our Brackmann cousins, Jill and Sammie, were there.  Jill was dolled up for a wedding she was attending right after the presentation and Sammie was noired out to the hilt in green and black satin and velvet, with four inch green satin heels, and a little black torque perched on the back of curly auburn hair.   They both looked quite smashing.  My cousin Lindy also showed up a bit later even though she was not feeling well.  So a special thanks to all three cousins and Lisa for going out of their way to come see me do my schtick. 

Dave started out the presentation with a short monologue (backed by appropriately noirish music) from The Peruvian Pigeon (which, for those of you not familiar with the history of my mystery…heh…that rhymes…was the first script Maureen and I wrote for Murder for Hire many years ago), which was much appreciated by the audience.  I think it was both the effectiveness of his performance and the fact he looks cute in a fedora and trenchcoat).  The monologue ends with “…and SHE walked in.”  A great cue for me to start my presentation if I do say so myself.

I’ve done this presentation a few times now and get more comfortable with it with each new appearance.  I basically talk about the history of Murder for Hire, both the theatrical troupe and the novel, going off on tangents about chocolate, supermodels, show anecdotes, screenplays, whatever happens to come up during the talk.  I love fielding questions from the audience and this group was the best yet in terms of having plenty of questions to throw at me.  After the presentation, I sold and signed books.  I seem to be incapable of just signing my name; I feel obliged to write a mini-novel for each inscription.  I’ve been told by more seasoned authors I’ll get over that the first time I do a really big signing.  Heh. 

The Capitol Crimes group also sold and signed books; CAPITAL CRIMES, an anthology of short stories written by members of their group.  Dave and I bought one and I’m looking forward to reading it.  Capital Crimes Cover

What, you might ask, does this all have to do with the Liberty Bell?   Well, I’d brought my camera to the event and Dave took pictures of me as I was giving my talk.  I saw the pictures yesterday, showing me in my slinky black top, red flowing skirt made out of Saree fabric, and black boots and for all the world, the shots all made me look bell shaped and much heavier than I’d like to think I appear in real life.  I told Dave I looked like a big fat bell and he said I was cracked.  Hence the Liberty Bell. 

And you didn’t think I’d ever come to the point, did you? 

The pictures had one positive affect (after reducing my slowly building self-esteem to rubble) – my motivation to exercise has revved up to high gear, I’ve started taking calorie counting seriously (did you know if you order a goat cheese, strawberry and spinach salad with candied walnuts and raspberry dressing you can reduce it from 880 calories to 280 by switching the dressing to a vinaigrette and cutting out the walnuts?) and I’m going to remember to stand up straighter when I give my talks!  More yoga! 

Reliving my childhood

Or at least parts of it.  The parts when I was shy and awkward.  I used to be a very friendly, open kid who’d make friends anywhere.  But after a few negative experiences dealing with the kind of casual cruelty that kids specialize in, I became a lot more hesitant about approaching people and spent quite a few parties hiding out in corners.  I outgrew that over time and have had relatively few awkward moments in my adulthood as far as interacting with strangers, but today at the Mystery Writers of America/Sisters in Crime holiday party at M is for Mystery Bookstore, I had about an hour of pure, agonizing shyness, straight out of grade school.  I clutched my glass of wine with one hand, Dave’s arm with the other and felt my heartrate speed up as I began to hyperventilate and wonder what the hell I was doing there.  I vanished behind a long row of bookshelves and tried to get control of my breathing and stop myself from making a hasty escape back to the car.

It got better.  A very kind woman, Susan S. (webmistress for MWA) took me under her wing and introduced me around to a few people.  The ice melted, my breathing returned to normal and I ended up having a great time.  Sold a few books, bought some and had them signed by the authors, and am really looking forward to the next SinC event.   But tonight was an object lesson to me that we may grow older, but we never really leave our childhood behind, both the good bits and the bad.