Guest Blogger ~ Kate Flora

~ patyjag ~ Leave a comment

Adventures in Research: Hiring My Character a Lawyer

I was at my 50th law school reunion recently, sitting in a circle with a group of lawyers who’d dedicated themselves to public service, as we went around the room giving a brief description of our careers. My journey was different. As I told my classmates: I practiced law for a while and then turned to a life of crime. Crime writing, that is. My law background has been very helpful over the years, since crime writing often involves dealing with the police and the legal system. It was particularly useful when I was writing my first true crime, Finding Amy, since I could turn to my former colleagues in the Maine Attorney General’s office for information and advice.

Today’s post, though, is about a work of fiction. One of the places I look to for story ideas is newspapers. That’s where the plot for Teach Her a Lesson began. Reading a story about a teacher accused of sex with a student, I thought: What if I flip the script? What if it’s the student who is the wrong doer, a teenage boy obsessed with his teacher, and the teacher is innocent but no one believes her. That led me to the story of Alexis Jordan, a dedicated young teacher whose world is turned upside down when she’s accused of an affair with her student. Evan Palmer is the golden boy athlete. The boy who can do no wrong. And his story of the affair is frighteningly plausible. He knows way too much about her. Things he has no business knowing, like the color of her sheets.

What should Alexis do? After a meeting with the administration that made it clear they considered her guilty and weren’t willing to give her a fair hearing, she realized she needed a lawyer.

Despite my legal training, I didn’t know much about employment law or what my character, Alexis Jordan, needed to do to protect herself when her job was threatened, so I turned to my law school classmate, Elizabeth Rodgers, for advice. She was delighted—and amused—to be invited to represent an imaginary character. Over lunch, and through some emails back and forth, Liz became an excellent advisor on the steps Alexis should take to protect herself. Those conversations also led me to a strong secondary character in the book, Janice Trustman, who becomes Alexis’s lawyer.

Here’s a bit from Alexis’s first meeting with Trustman.

Trustman set down her pen and tented her hands. “You came to me for advice, right?”

Alexis nodded.

“So I’m going to give you some. We’ll be working closely together preparing you to defend yourself against Evan Palmer’s accusations. Right now, things are at an informal stage. They’re trying to conduct an investigation, you’re trying to protect yourself by exercising your rights under your contract. How will that play out? Well, you’ve already seen the first round.”

“What do you mean?”

“The meeting this morning. What happened? They caught you off guard and tried to get you to admit you’d done something wrong without telling you what the accusation was, right? Then, when you insisted on a hearing with a union representative present, what did they do?”

“Nothing.”

“Exactly. They’re letting you stew. Trying to make you lose your temper, make you anxious enough to lose your composure, hoping you’ll make mistakes, blurt things out, make it easy for them so they won’t have to conduct a full investigation.”

Trustman smiled wryly. “They don’t know much more about handling this than you do. The one thing Dr. Huston is better at is manipulating people. Manipulating you. Your job is to keep that from happening.”

“That’s so ugly. I guess I thought—”

“What? That all you’d have to do was invoke the rules and they’d play fair?” Trustman shook her head. “People only play by the rules when they have to. That’s why you’re here. Because you don’t believe they will be fair and you need a team on your side, too. To protect you when they play dirty. Isn’t that right?”

“I guess.” She felt sad. Flattened. Crushed. She’d come for help only to be told things were worse than she’d imagined.

As I wrote the story, I came to really like Janice Trustman. And she did a good job for Alexis, despite being tough on her, too.

Research for the book also involved sitting in high school classrooms and talking with teachers. But the scariest thing I did—so that I could accurately convey Alexis’s terror when it happened to her—was to get arrested. That’s a story for another time.

Teach Her a Lesson

What do you do when you’re accused of an unspeakable crime and know you’re innocent, but the evidence against you is so compelling?

After six years as a high school English teacher, Alexis Jordan thinks her biggest problems are a case of burnout and her suspicion that her husband is having an affair.

Then things take a sudden, unexpected turn that threatens to end her marriage, wreck her career, and destroy her life when the student she’s coaching for the school play makes a pass at her and she turns him down. Alexis doesn’t realize that he is obsessed with her and has been building toward this moment for months. Nor that when he’s rejected, he will set out to destroy her with his version of their “affair” which is terrifyingly plausible.

Buy Link: https://encirclepub.com/product/teach-her-a-lesson/

Kate Flora’s fascination with the darker side of human nature began in the Maine attorney general’s office, where she encountered everything from deadbeat dads to child abusers to discriminatory employers. This exposure ignited her curiosity about what drives people to cross moral and legal lines. The author of twenty-eight books including crime fiction, thrillers, true crime, memoir, and nonfiction, Flora’s been a finalist for awards including the Edgar, Agatha, Anthony, Silver Falchion, and Derringer. She has twice won the Maine Literary Award for crime fiction, taken home the Public Safety Writers Association award for nonfiction, and received lifetime achievement honors from both the New England Crime Bake and the Maine Crime Wave. Her website is: https://www.kateclarkflora.com She blogs with the Maine Crime Writers. https://mainecrimewriters.com

BLANK PAGE

~ Kimila Kay ~ 2 Comments

Good morning, Ladies ~ This blog finds me traveling … again! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but I may be a wee bit tired.

This time last week, I was up and packing, ready to Uber to the New Orleans airport for my trip home after a fabulous ten days of exploring Nola. Oh, the stories, but my favorite was a Pirate Tour and learning about Jean Lafitte and his brother, Pierre. Of course, I soaked up the tour guide’s stories about this legendary duo and found a few tidbits worthy of including in my time-traveling middle-grade fantasy book, “Midnight Sail,” which is now going through final edits.

At the end of each book, I include the first six chapters of the next book, which in this series, The Cormack Chronicles, will be “Robin’s Hood.”

What is it about a blank page, the cursor blinking in anticipation of the first word, that is so exciting? I get almost giddy when I type the book title into the heading bar, then smile like a Cheshire cat as I tap out the first chapter’s heading. When I set my fingers to my laptop’s keyboard, it feels like I’m uncovering a secret, and I can’t wait to see what unfolds.

When I was in Nola, we did a plantation tour of Oak Alley, which was overwhelming in its history and beauty. As a kid, I grew up climbing the oak trees on our farm, but the majestic oaks of Oak Alley were breathtaking. The trees are massive and are estimated to be five hundred years old, with a longevity of up to one thousand years. Also, unlike the white oak trees in Oregon, the live oaks in Louisiana do not lose their leaves in the fall; they do so in late winter, when new leaves begin to unfurl.  My girlfriends and I walked from the main house to the road, which was originally the Mississippi River, now diverted by a large land levy.

As we strolled along, absorbing the plantation’s history, I spotted an interesting oak covered in Spanish moss, with long, heavy limbs brushing the ground. Besides the tree’s beauty, I thought I saw something interesting in the trunk. And hence, the theme of my next middle-school fantasy book was born.

In “Robin’s Hood,” my three kids are drawn to a large oak in Sherwood after they finish taking sword-fighting lessons. Alex, my hero’s friend, finds a medieval sword. Jaxyn, their logical female friend, lectures Alex about holding the sword, which might be a portal key. And Cyrus … he thinks the tree is talking to him.

The next thing you know, the trio has been teleported to 1857 and the budding settlement of Sherwood, where they find themselves caught up in a melee after Sheriff Elias Black disqualifies Nathaniel Robbins as the winner of an archery tournament.

And then …

I’ve never been an outliner, but I do jot notes about the beginning of a book. Then, usually when I’m trying to sleep, my brain comes up with interesting scenarios for my characters. I love the energy that comes with starting a new book. And even though I outline, I always have a clear idea of the three arcs needed to keep a reader interested.

Once I had my first two chapters, I needed a plausible reason my three middle-schoolers’ moms wouldn’t miss them while they’re trying to return to 2027. Enter Cyrus’s friend, Toby, a week at summer camp, and a red robin.

I’ll only write the first six chapters of “Robin’s Hood” before moving on to the first book, “Murder on Superstition Mountain,” in my “Sapphire Stone Mysteries,” but once my brain has the theme of this book, it will keep offering ideas and plot twists even while I’m working on a different book.

The reason I’m moving on to another series is that I will be living in Mesa, Arizona, this time next year, and I’d like to have a book to promote in my new surroundings. My husband and I have decided to sell our home in Donald, Oregon, and then split our time between our small place in Mesa and our small cabin on the Siletz River just south of Lincoln City.

Like starting a new book, beginning this new chapter in our lives is exciting. As I do with my books, I jot down ideas for where furniture might go. About what to sell, donate, or keep. About … how to relax, write, and enjoy this next chapter of my life!

Happy writing, Ladies ~

Working Retail

~ susanoleksiw ~ 1 Comment

Once a week I volunteer at a thrift shop whose income supports a social service agency in my small city and surrounding towns. The shop is wildly successful, with young people doing just about everything—taking in donations, pricing them, designing the sales floors (and changing the design and layout regularly), and holding sales when customers sweep in and come close to cleaning the place out. We are famous for our quality and variety and prices. My job is to put things out on the floor—to hang up clothes in appropriate sections and distribute items among the various divisions such as apparel, house wares, kitchen, home decor, crafts.

I’ve never worked retail before so this is a new experience for me. Just keeping up with the broad range of customers is a challenge. One person will examine an LL Bean jacket with attention to the seams and pockets, and another will pull out a T-shirt and frown at the color but throw it into their cart without further consideration. Sometimes the floor under a rack is littered with tops that refuse to stay on the hangers (thanks to the poor style of the designer), and I spend half my time rehanging things.

Items for housewares are lots of fun because I get to rearrange parts of a table to fit in something. I’ve never considered myself artistic in the design area but I surprise myself sometimes. When I return half an hour later to add to the cluster of knickknacks the one I put out is already gone. Confused, thinking I’m in the wrong spot, I spend a few seconds looking for it until I recognize that this is Bootstraps and few items last very long. Things are snatched up sometimes while I’m still appraising the location I’ve chosen for it.

But the best part are the people. Like most writers, I live in my head. I research for the current WIP, then disappear to that desk piled high with notes and books and a dictionary, hiding out from the world. Even when I’m out doing errands, I’m still in my WIP and the people I pass in the grocery store or on the street don’t hold my attention. But that’s not true at the thrift shop. This is where I learn what I’ve missed in real life, where I find the tiny fillips that bring a character to life.

A well-dressed man with a younger couple, male and female and physically smaller, are inspecting a jacket still on its hanger. I hear a little sound, like a foot scraping on the floor, though barely that loud, and keep walking past them. Another sound like a grunt and I turn to see the larger man looking at me. I ask if he needs help. He nods. Apparently both sounds were acceptable parts of conversation in his world and expected to get my attention, but I failed to respond appropriately. Communication reduced to its essentials.

Then there’s the woman who pulls a T-shirt off the rack and studies it as she follows me around the store until she finally asks if there are any more like it. I have no idea because I have no idea where she got it: from the $6 and $8 racks or the Boutique, or the Fresh Fits, which are a step below Boutique but above the discount racks. I go to work to track it down.

Another favorite is the petite woman in jeans, sweater, and sneakers who leans over the glass counter for the jewelry display studying each piece, her hands pressing on her thighs, until she gets really interested and rests her arm on the glass and peers down. She asks to see two pieces—a bracelet and a ring, which I pull out for her. She pulls out a loupe and studies the ring, then carefully replaces it on the glass counter. She handles the bracelet, turning it over in her fingers, holding it up, peering at it. “I found a nice bracelet here last month and sold it on eBay for $80. Sort of like this one.” Considering our pricing for most of the jewelry, she probably made about $60. She’s one of many who have found the thrift shop a lucrative source of income. Sometimes the managers even help them find something that might be rewarding.

Of course there is always the man or woman who wants the microwave, which works, for less than the $25 price tag, and decides she can do better elsewhere. Someone wants forks, but we don’t have any this week. They go fast. Spoons, no, knives, no. Forks, yes. Few people want all the glass we get, even though some of it is exceptionally fine. It eventually goes out onto the sidewalk in a cardboard box as a freebie, where it’s picked over but not taken.

Some people I see every week, and they pick through the new items in the carriage I’m pushing from table to table. The sign on the carriage asks them not to shop from the carriage, but we know how effective such signage is.

Once in a while I’ll spot a new volunteer walking around with a few items in her hands muttering I don’t know where to put this. I told one, “Put it anywhere. When I come in again, I’ll put it where I think it belongs.” A smile. Done.

Any place that puts human nature, personality quirks and all, on display is “home” to a writer. I’m typing this on Monday. This afternoon I head off to my “other home.”

To Do or Not to Do

~ lanamfox ~ 7 Comments

I have a very long To Do List. I look at it every day, and rejoice when I can cross something off, but I always end up adding more items than I cross off.

Today, I need to write my newsletter. I’ve been neglecting it for a long time, hoping that some magical being will come along and write it for me. I typically only send out a newsletter when I have a new book out, but every marketing person I talk to, or listen to, lists a newsletter as your best marketing tool.

I’ve signed up for other author’s newsletters and I’m ashamed to say, I’m not good about reading them. Sometimes I skim them, sometimes I ignore them, and sometimes I read part of them. This doesn’t bode well for me sending out my own newsletters, does it? If everyone who signs up is like me, I’m not going to get much out of it.

Susan Elizabeth Phillips writes a very entertaining newsletter. She’s a funny lady and her newsletters are funny. I do read hers even though I’m not a huge romance fan. My friend, and fellow mystery author, Mary Birk, puts out an interesting newsletter that is always entertaining. I read hers.

Unfortunately, I’m not funny like Susan or knowledgeable like Mary. What can I put in my newsletter that will make readers want to read it? I’m a writer. Why is writing a newsletter so difficult?

I decided to google how to write a newsletter, hoping I’d get insight or inspiration, or both. According to google I need to:

  1. Pick a focused topic
  2. Write a catchy subject line
  3. Personalize the greeting,
  4. Adopt a conversational tone
  5. Keep it skimmable
  6. Include a single call to action.

Okay, I’ve got this.

Only I don’t. I’m stuck at the first bullet point: pick a focused topic. If I could think of a focused topic I wouldn’t be googling how to write a newsletter!

I have a new book coming out. I didn’t want to write about it until it was out, but I could send a teaser out in my newsletter.

This is the 4th book in my Hood River Valley Series. The books follow Detective Liz Ellisen through the ups and downs of life and solving crimes. In the fourth book, Liz and her partner, Detective Enrique Rodriguez, are called to the scene of a wrecked van full of girls who are being trafficked. One of the abductors is dead and the girls insist there was another man and a young girl who are now missing. Then a local judge and his wife go missing.

As Liz and Enrique work both cases, they begin to wonder if they are related. With their team stretched thin, and the sheriff nowhere to be found, they keep searching and asking questions. But the deeper they search, the more the lines blur. Is the sheriff involved? Or is something even darker going on in their small town?

Because someone is watching

Someone knows the truth.

And that someone has no intention of walking away.

Some writers write about their life, their travels, their pets, etc. I’m sure if I try hard enough, I can figure out something to write about. Little snippets of my life that someone might find interesting. I’m always interested in other people’s lives.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the last few weeks working at my son’s fruit stand because he is having trouble finding help. All of the college kids who worked there this summer have gone back to school. I love meeting people and talking to them. We’ve had people stop in from all over the world. It’s so interesting to ask where they’re from and talk about the fruit and the beautiful valley where I live.

Okay, I’m feeling better about the newsletter. Thanks for reading. If you want to see what I come up with, go to my website: www.lanamfox.com and sign up for my emails. Meanwhile, I’ll be busy writing the newsletter and working on the next book.

Guest Blogger ~ Claudia Riess

~ patyjag ~ 6 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