Guest Blogger ~ Claudia Riess

~ patyjag ~ 3 Comments

 The Love Imperative  

 by Claudia Riess

Love.  What state of being—or deprivation of being—requires a more expansive lexicon?  What adjective hasn’t been used to describe its properties or intentions?  Transformative, destructive, blissful, shattering, blessed, accursed. Love is entangled, in one form or another, in the entire spectrum of human experience.

     Besides being the most comprehensive of subjects, isn’t love, at least in its quintessential form, also the most compelling? Admit it, how many times have you read—or watched, in their numerous iterations—the stories of Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, An Affair to Remember?  We know the endings, they’re etched in memory, but we’re drawn to reliving—or reviving—them, with the same imperative every time.  As if through repetition, we can make the endings, or the ultimate fulfillment of love, or indeed, life itself, never end.

     If my take on the subject of love is biased, maybe it’s because I’m an incurable romantic with no wish to be cured.  I find it necessary, emotionally and tactically, for the element of romance to be a strong factor in my narratives. However, my focus on love, as both a predisposition and a means to enhance the plot, is not limited to the convolutions of romance.  Deep friendship, family loyalty, devotion to a political or humanitarian cause are, among others, forces that drive the narrative forward.

     To illustrate, I’ve excerpted a couple of passages from the books in my Art History Mystery series.  The protagonists are Erika Shawn, an art magazine editor, and Harrison Wheatley, an art history professor.  Book one, Stolen Light, brings them together to solve an academic mystery.  The mystery turns deadly; their relationship, stormy.  The series takes these initiates to the world of art-crime-solving through a number of multiple-murder, continent-hopping cases.  At the same time, it follows their evolving relationship, from roller-coaster romance to passionate partnering to devoted parenting.  Having an intimate story arcing alongside one with a more far-reaching effect, adds texture to the narrative as a whole—like musical instruments, which in concert highlight not only their own unique qualities, but in counterpoint, each other’s.

     From Stolen Light…  In a London hotel, Erika’s protective armor against falling in love begins to crack.  This is the prologue to their romance, which changes not only the course of their relationship, but affects the mystery’s narrative:

She didn’t want to be alone though she never minded it, mostly enjoyed it, in fact.  Except that in this moment being alone was uneasy solitude, and vaguely threatening.  She wanted to snuggle into conversation, hear her voice mingle with another’s…Minutes later she was poised in front of Harrison’s door…

     From False Light…By its very nature, Harrison’s playful and caring interaction with a little boy cannot but reflect his empathetic character.  It will impact the way he approaches people and situations:

Erika wasn’t sure if Sammy had been heading straight for Harrison or if Harrison had stepped into his trajectory, but within seconds, he was scooping the boy off the floor, legs still pedaling…Sammy, taken by surprise, smiled.  He stuck his clenched hand in front of Harrison’s face.  Chicken pâté was oozing from between his fingers.  “Yech!” he said, teasing a reaction out of Harrison…Erika stopped dead in her tracks as Harrison was opening his mouth to allow Sammy to jam it with a glob of pâté on crushed toast point.  “Yummy,” Harrison crooned dreamily, sending Sammy into gales of laughter.

     From Knight Light… On his own in Paris, Harrison’s faithfulness is tested by a beautiful colleague.  For both Harrison and Erika, loyalty, real and perceived, will figure in the arc of their love story and their progress in the investigation at hand:

It was impossible to miss the twinkle in her eye toying with the bluntness of her invitation. He thought it best to go with the least circuitous response: “That’s kind of you, but I’m married.”  Mugging confusion, Raquel looked about, as if for the stalking wife.  “And?” 

He shrugged. “There’s nothing to add.” 

She smiled in disbelief. “How about life is short?”

“Exactly. There’s no time to lose, perfecting a relationship. Call me a pompous prude—”

“You’re a pompous prude.”

“—but that’s how it is.”

     From To Kingdom Come…  Erika and Harrison, are in London, for the first time away from their toddler, Lucas. They are in the throes of a complex murder mystery pivoting around the looting of African art during the colonial era. At this moment, they are attempting to escape a life-threatening situation, and the power of love is over-riding the primal force of self-preservation:

“Go!” John barked, grabbing Erika’s forearm as she reached out for Harrison with her free hand. “It’s okay, he’s right behind us!”

“Go!” Harrison echoed, wanting her to forget him, beat him to the gate. Clinging to him now would hamper her movement.

But she resisted John’s tugging and both their urgings—even Lucas, calling her from across the ocean, failed to change her mind—and there was nothing Harrison could do but grab onto her hand and slow her down.

From Dying for Monet… Harrison is temporarily confined to a wheelchair after suffering a traumatic injury in London.  Erika is helping him handle the use of a commode; putting the inconvenience into broader perspective:

“We’re dealing with bodily functions.  News flash.  Everybody’s got them.”  She’d adopted a tone somewhere between a dental hygienist and a nun.

“I appreciate your stoicism, but I find this humiliating,” he said.

“I love you,” she said, maintaining the firm demeanor.  “This is another level of knowing.  Think of it as a dry run for old age, when we will be helping each other manage such challenges as hip replacements and incontinence.  Think of it as a new facet of devotedness.”

     There’s a caveat to keep in mind when writing a mystery with a romantic component: in a bona fide mystery, the mystery should remain the driving force.  I have a tendency to get swept into an emotional digression, and it’s only later, when reading through the section where the interlude occurs, that I realize the main thread’s been lost and I’ve got some pruning to do; even a major excision.  For love, a small price to pay.

Dying for Monet, Book 5 in the art history mystery series

A gala evening auction at Laszlo’s, an upstart auction house in New York City, is in progress.  Without notice, a much sought-after Impressionist painting is withdrawn from the block.  Moments later, its broker is found dead at the foot of an imposing statue in Laszlo’s courtyard.

Amateur sleuths Erika and Harrison Wheatley are once again drawn into an investigation involving an art-related homicide, this time sharing an unnerving coincidence with violent crimes occurring abroad.

As Harrison searches for clues in the archives at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford, Erika is on a stakeout in Brooklyn Heights gathering information on the owner of the hijacked still life.  After Harrison experiences a disastrous encounter in London, he returns home, where he and Erika, along with a few of their usual cohorts, find themselves ever more deeply at odds with the movers and shakers of the dark side of fine arts commerce.

For links to purchase books in the series, visit www.claudiariessbooks.com.

Claudia Riess has worked in the editorial departments of The New Yorker and Holt, Rinehart and Winston, and has edited several art history monographs.  Stolen Light, the first book in her art history mystery series, was chosen by Vassar’s Latin American history professor for distribution to the college’s people-to-people trips to Cuba.  To Kingdom Come, the fourth, will be added to the syllabus of a survey course on West and Central African Art at a prominent Midwestern university.

www.claudiariessbooks.com

Where history meets mystery

~ donaleeMoulton ~ 10 Comments

by donalee Moulton

Many writers are attracted to the historical mystery genre because they like weaving a mystery for readers to solve. Many other writers are history buffs and want to share their love of the past with readers in the present. I’ve learned you need both elements to keep readers turning pages. Two worlds are always at play in the historical mystery: mayhem and yesteryear.

Writing historical mysteries means focusing on both whodunit and whentheydunit. I recently taught a course on this subject and thought I’d share some suggestions for writers to help you travel back in time to commit your crime. For readers, it’s an inside look at the process.

Start with the history, not the mystery

cover of Conflagration! by donalee Moulton

Before writers plot the perfect murder, they need to be as comfortable in their historical setting as well as they are in their own living room. The time period shapes everything in the story: how people talk, what they eat, how they live their lives – and how they investigate when a life ends.

Three questions dominate the journey back in time:

  1. Why this specific time? What drew you in? What do you think will fascinate readers?
  2. What conflicts defined this time? Political unrest, economic hardship, social upheaval—these create natural tension.
  3. How did people solve crimes then? In the absence of DNA and surveillance cameras, investigations relied on observation, word of mouth, and intuition and maybe sneaking in a window to surveil a crime scene.

A historical mystery’s believability depends on accuracy. This doesn’t require reciting every historical fact—indeed, this doesn’t work—but the writer must be comfortable enough in this other world to enable characters to move through it naturally.

Choose a main character who belongs

The investigator in a historical mystery guides the reader through clues and through the era. They might be an amateur or a professional. This might be the three-hundredth crime they’ve solved or the first. It doesn’t matter; they belong here.

In historical settings, investigators often have limitations modern detectives don’t—and this goes well beyond technology. Everything from restricted travel, class barriers, rigid gender roles. These limitations can be opportunities to connect with readers. Lean into them; they nudge creativity and add tension.

The sleuth’s personality and background should also reflect the era while also offering traits—curiosity, stubbornness, empathy—that transcend time.

Research like a detective, not an archivist

If a detective needs to walk down a street in 1912 Montreal, the writer should know what that street smelled like, whether cobblestones rattled under carriage wheels, and how likely the character was to meet someone selling newspapers on the corner.

Sources for rich and authentic detail include:

  • Newspapers and periodicals from the time (full of language, concerns, and advertisements)
  • Diaries and letters for personal perspectives (where possible)
  • Historical maps for accurate geography
  • Material culture research what fabrics, foods, and objects were common

The goal is to take readers into this world by recreating it for them without overwhelming them with facts that will weigh the story down and bore readers. Instead, historical details work like seasoning, enhancing the flavour without overpowering the dish.

Layer in historical conflict

The best historical mysteries don’t just place a modern crime in an old-fashioned setting; they weave the mystery into the fabric of the time. A theft in 1920 might be tied to Prohibition smuggling. A murder in 16th-century Spain could intersect with religious persecution. These historical tensions add stakes and make the story more than a puzzle; they transform it into a lens through which readers experience the era.

Make dialogue a cornerstone

Language is one of the quickest ways to immerse readers in the past, but it’s also a common pitfall. Too much archaic phrasing can make dialogue stiff and hard to follow, while overly modern speech breaks the illusion.

The key is selective authenticity:

  • Use period-appropriate vocabulary for objects, occupations, and social customs.
  • Avoid slang that didn’t exist yet (dictionaries can help here).
  • Keep sentence structure readable for modern audiences.

Keep pacing tight

While the past moved at a different pace, the plot shouldn’t drag. There is a need to balance richly detailed scenes with moments of action and revelation. In historical mysteries, tension often comes from the slow build. This can be delays in communication, the time it takes to travel, the risk of misinformation spreading. But every delay should raise stakes, not stall the plot.

End on a deeper note

When the mystery is solved, consider how this crime fits the morality of the era. Would a killer from a higher social class face justice? Would certain motives be more understandable, or unforgivable, back then? The ending of a historical mystery should leave readers feeling they’ve solved more than a crime, but that they’ve understood something about the world that once was.

Would Someone Slap Me!

~ patyjag ~ 5 Comments

It seems like lately my brain makes decision without consulting my day planner.

First I was stewing and brewing up book 2 in my Cuddle Farm Mystery series and after writing two chapters, my brain decided that book shouldn’t come next. That I needed one in between to make the storyline of that book make more sense to the reader. (After all I know why a sister is acting they way she is, but no one else does, not my main character or any of my readers.)

I wrote a short story about the scene that is causing the trouble for Andi and Nina, the Weber sisters, in the Cuddle Farm Mysteries. After book 3 releases, I can put it in my newsletter for my readers. But they will have already learned why there is a conflict from the end of book 3.

Back to my brain. It decided that what I was working on was book 3, which meant I had to come up with another murder to solve in book 2. That’s where I incorporated my trip to 1912 Opera House and came up with Monologued to Death. It was a fun book to write, giving some of the secondary characters more color and starting a slight truce between the sisters.

Making the premise of what I thought was book 2, book 3, has made this a stronger series, I think. I hope the readers see it that way as well.

My process is I usually know what the next book I’m writing in a series is by the time I finish the current book in a series. I kind of had an idea of what the next Spotted Pony Casino Mystery book was going to be, but not really. Then I audited classes given by a Nez Perce Professor about Nez Perce History. The real history, not what is sugarcoated by history books. I have learned a lot and will continue to sit in when he starts up another class later this month.

Something he talked about seemed like a good topic that most non-tribal people don’t know about and is still a problem. I decided to make the murder in the book around fractionated allotments. (If you don’t know what it is, you’ll have to read the book. 😉 ) But I wanted the book to be not too far after the main characters were married, (the last book Full House).

Since Heath found out about a son, he didn’t know he had in the last book, I decided that they would have their first Christmas together in this book. Great! Except, I either have to get it written quickly to get out this holiday, or wait a whole year. I’m pretty sure my fans won’t like waiting, and I don’t want a book in between this one and the last one. Part of this story deals with what Heath and Dela did on their honeymoon. Which happened at the end of Full House. What they did and found out on their honeymoon was always going to be part of the next book.

The other stuff all changed.

Sooo, long post short, I am busting my fingers and my fanny to get this book, Santa’s Beard, finished, through beta readers and my line editor so I can get it released, hopefully, either the end of November or first of December. Would someone just slap me for letting my creative side of the brain take over and not even ask the logical side if it could happen.

Of Carrots and Sticks — and Cake

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 4 Comments
Margaret Lucke and her books

By Margaret Lucke

I’ve been staring at the blank page on my computer screen for what seems like hours when my Muse finally slouches into my office. She plops herself onto the soft chair in the corner. “Here I am,” she says. “Where’s my reward?”

“Reward!” I turn from the computer to face her. “What are you talking about? You just arrived. You haven’t given me anything yet. Not the first word of a sentence. Not even the glimmer of an idea. You don’t get a reward just for showing up.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Pay for work that hasn’t happened? What kind of business model is that?”

“Ooh, I didn’t know what we do is a business.” She gets up, walks across the room, and peers at the screen. “Where’s the profit-and-loss statement? Are we making money? What’s my cut?”

“Never mind. We need to get busy on chapter 18.” I position my fingers on the keyboard, ready to type something brilliant. “When we left off, Jocelyn was waiting for Luke to show up in the empty house. She doesn’t know he’s the one who killed Gretchen. How shall we open the scene?”

My Muse crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m still waiting for my reward.”

“Later,” I say firmly. “We don’t get rewards until we’ve accomplished something.”

“What’s that then?” She points to my tea mug.

“Fuel.” I pick up the mug and take a big swig.

“Uh-huh. And this? Looks like a reward to me.”

Next to the mug is a plate with a tiny morsel (it’s a very small piece, honest) of dessert left over from last night.

“My breakfast,” I explain as I take a delicious bite. “Carrot cake.”

“Ah … carrot.” She nods knowingly. “The proverbial donkey’s reward. The farmer gives the donkey a carrot, and the donkey takes the farmer to the market. A fair arrangement, but you can see that the reward comes first.”

“No, no. The farmer dangles the carrot in front of the donkey. The donkey moves toward it, but the carrot stays just out of reach until they reach their destination. Only then does the donkey get its reward.”

“Can I have some of your cake?” she asks, just as I pop the last tidbit into my mouth.

I lift my hands in a gesture of apology. “Sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “Poor donkey. It must feel as frustrated as I do.”

“Remember, the farmer also carries a stick, so he can swat the donkey’s behind if it doesn’t cooperate. The carrot is a positive motivator and the stick is a negative motivator. The idea is—”

“Motivate, schmotivate. If I were the donkey, I’d tell that farmer where to stick his carrot.”

She goes back to the soft chair to pout.

“Come on now,” I say. She doesn’t move.

I wheedle. I cajole. No response. I look around for something to use as a stick.

But I know that won’t work. Instead, I take the plate to the kitchen and refill it, this time with two slices of cake. I return to my office and set the plate beside the computer.

“Pull up your chair,” I say to my Muse. “The big piece is yours.”

She smiles as she scooches her chair forward and picks up the extra fork I brought. “Speaking of sticks, did you know Luke is bringing his hockey stick to the house with him? To use as a weapon against Jocelyn. No, wait, not a stick, a knife. That way he can hide it under his coat. Mmm, yummy cake!”

“Hey, he can’t kill Jocelyn. We need her for the rest of the story.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll save herself. A little more of this reward and I’ll figure out how. Make sure the next piece has plenty of frosting!”

Work, Craft and Frivolity

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 5 Comments


by Janis Patterson

I honestly don’t know whether to be flattered, or insulted, or sorry.

Right now I’m fighting a tight deadline for a book, and it is fighting back tooth and nail. I’m way short of where I should be with characters who, despite pre-planned expected actions/reactions/events, are stubbornly refusing to cooperate. It’s an unsettling feeling.

Looking for moral (or immoral, depending on how you might view it) support I called a writer friend expecting commiseration and encouragement.

Instead I got a breathless little laugh and a frivolous “Oh, that’s nothing. You’ll get something together to get it done. You always do” before she went on to talk at length about this party she was giving for her granddaughter’s wedding.

Now I have known and loved her granddaughter since her toddler days, and am delighted she is getting married… but at that moment I needed some support and encouragement, not punch recipes.

Plus, it is almost insulting to my craft to believe that I’ll get it done just as I would a cake or a floral decoration or any other mechanical project. Writing is an art. It is something to be taken seriously instead of a frivolous chore that can be dashed off on a whim.

In the bad old early days of romance writing, there was a popular belief held by far too many that writing was easy, that romance writers just reclined on a chaise longue, occasionally munching on a bon-bon while effortlessly spewing out another best seller between their morning horseback ride and a ball at the mansion down the road that evening.

Now that is an exaggeration (although less than you might think) but the kernel of that idea, that writing is an easy cinch which takes no time and less thought and no work at all, is still lurking about our industry like a wraith that cannot be exorcised.

In case you ever thought that, take my word – it is not true. Writing is work. Even writing a bad book is work. Writing a good book is difficult and a lot of work. To denigrate the process by saying with flip dismissal “That’s nothing, you’ll get it done” when you are asking for help and encouragement and support is not only insulting to the writer, but to the craft itself.

Writing is more than pulling words out of the air and putting them into a line. A chimpanzee can do that. The words have to make at least some sort of sense and create some sort of vaguely cohesive story; most writers – even the very bad ones can do that, though there are some I would put the chimps up against any day.

To create a real book, though, you have to work. You have to take a thousand ideas and melt them together into a seamless, interesting whole. You have to choose the right words to create the world of your book with just the ambiance and subtext you want. And most important of all, you have to make this book into something that people you have never met, people who have never heard of you, want to read.

That’s not easy, and it should not be frivolously dismissed as if it were.

End of rant. I have a book to write.