Month: January 2025

Guest Blogger ~ M.E. Proctor

~ patyjag ~ 6 Comments

The Detective Comes Calling

When I start working on a short story I never know much about the characters. I might have a place in mind—a bar on a beach, a path in the forest, an iced-over parking lot—or a line of text I woke up with, like this one that I used recently, curious to see where it would take me: Innocence doesn’t do it for me. Spoiler alert: somebody dies.

Most of my pieces unspool that way. Characters walk on stage, I get to know them, and things happen. Or nothing happens and the story goes asleep on my laptop, for a while or forever. That loose process works well for me, for short fiction.

A book is a very different animal.

If you write yourself in a corner in a short story the damage is minimal. You can shelve the draft, revisit it later and either find a solution or scrap it entirely. It’s disappointing but at worst you’ve only lost a few weeks. On the other hand, if you’re fifty thousand words into a book and hit a wall or run out of juice, it really hurts. The investment in time and the emotional commitment are substantial. Of course you can try to rescue the project. As Chandler said: In doubt, send in a guy with a gun. Sometimes it works, other times … Raise your hand if like me you’ve read books that feel like they’re limping to the finish line.

The pitfalls of winging it were very much in the back of my mind when I decided to sink my teeth into a crime novel. The problem is that I’m not a plotter. Detailing every beat of a story before sitting down to write it feels too much like a straitjacket. It sucks all the fun out of the project. Why bother to write it if I know everything, no surprises, from the get go? Still, I wanted to be better organized than usual. Start with an idea and develop a rough outline that could go the distance.

It was an excellent resolution.

It didn’t happen.

Because Declan Shaw threw me for a spin.

I was on the back porch, engaged in the creative exercise known as woolgathering, when a name popped into my head. Out of nowhere. Insistent. I’d never written anything, book or short story, that used the name of a character as a prompt. I was intrigued. Who the hell was this guy pitching a tent in my subconscious?

Names aren’t neutral. In life, we’re passive recipients—a gift from our parents. In fiction, the writers are in control. They can play with the mental images a name creates (Dickens mastered it). What does the name suggest about the character’s past, family, or cultural background? Smith evokes 1984 or The Matrix, Cadogan-Smith comes with horses and country estates, Smith-Underfoot might be a familyliving in Hobbiton.

Declan Shaw. What does it bring to mind? Irish heritage. He probably drinks whiskey and can tell a tale. Yes, I know, it’s a cliché. But seriously, with a name like that, what does he do for a living? I love antiheroes but I didn’t feel like spending an entire book with a hitman, Ken Follett did it so well in The Day of the Jackal, and, more recently, Rob Hart in Assassins Anonymous. So what? Reporter. I could see the byline, front page, above the fold. Then an insidious voice in my head whispered: Can you build a series around a journalist, how many cases can he cover, without stretching credibility? A series? The inner voice had to be kidding, there was no book #1 yet. It was ludicrous. But, but … I could smell the possibilities.

And that‘s how, right there, on my porch, Declan Shaw became a private detective.

The first scene I wrote had nothing to do with investigating. I pictured him as an eleven-year-old boy, standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs, looking up at his intimidating grandmother. She was a black-clad villain straight out of a comic book. I imagined the events that brought the kid to her place and the disastrous consequences that ensued. Readers won’t find any of that in Love You Till Tuesday, the first book in the series. Declan’s back story is in my back pocket and won’t come out until the time is right.

I forgot my resolution to outline and gave myself permission to improvise. The plan was to learn who my character was by writing him. It took a lot longer than I expected, three years, three manuscripts, a thousand pages, multiple false starts. None of that work made it into the book, but the effort was worth it. I knew Declan inside out. We were both ready to tackle Love You Till Tuesday. In some sort of orderly fashion.

My plot document looked like the output from a chaotic brainstorming session, a jumble of character sketches, a rough timeline, cryptic notes, dead ends and side stories. It was an unstructured and messy pseudo synopsis, with plenty of freedom between the lines to change almost everything. As I typed away, things changed indeed, and changed again after input from editors and beta readers, cuts and tightening up, but the original bones of the story remained. Until finally Declan Shaw made his official debut with his cigarillos, his cowboy boots, his good and flawed impulses, and his ironic take on the world. He’s good company. I’m keeping him.

Love You Till Tuesday – A Declan Shaw Mystery

The murder of jazz singer April Easton makes no sense, and yet she appears to have been targeted. Who ordered the hit and why? Steve Robledo, the Houston cop in charge of the investigation, has nothing to work with. Local P.I. Declan Shaw who spent the night with April has little to contribute. He’d just met her and she was asleep when he left.

The case seems doomed to remain unsolved, forever open, and quickly erased from the headlines. And it would be if Declan’s accidental connection with the murder didn’t have unexpected consequences.

The men responsible for April’s death are worried. Declan is known to be stubborn and resourceful. He must be watched. He might have to be stopped. He’s a risk the killers cannot afford. The stakes are high: a major trial with the death penalty written all over it.

Buy Links:

Love You Till Tuesday is available in eBook and paperback.

Barnes & Noble, Bookshop.org, and Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/Love-You-Till-Tuesday-Proctor/dp/1956957707

From reviews:

If you think the crime fiction market has enough PIs, think again. Declan Shaw is the kind of PI this genre has been waiting for. Declan is a well-developed, complex and nuanced character, wrestling with his own internal conflicts as he investigates the murder of April Easton. Sharp, witty dialogue and a fast-pace make Love You Till Tuesday an engaging read—one of those books you can’t put down and keep reading late into the night. It is a fun, intense read from beginning to end and M.E. Proctor displays her incredible talent at creating a well-written and beautifully crafted book.

M.E. Proctor was born in Brussels and lives in Texas. The first book in her Declan Shaw PI series, Love You Till Tuesday, is out from Shotgun Honey with a follow up scheduled for 2025. She’s the author of a short story collection, Family and Other Ailments. Her fiction has appeared in various crime anthologies and magazines like Vautrin, Bristol Noir, Mystery Tribune, Shotgun Honey, Reckon Review, and Black Cat Weekly.

Social Links

Author Website: www.shawmystery.com

On Substack: https://meproctor.substack.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/martine.proctor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MEProctor3 BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/meproctor.bsky.social

Sleeping Dragons

~ lanamfox ~ 3 Comments

A few years ago, we had a huge snowstorm after Christmas. We’d taken our tree down and put it on the deck until my husband had time to haul it off, and then the snow fell. The next morning when I got up and looked outside, it looked like a dragon sleeping on my deck.

It took several years and a posting of a picture of my dragon on Facebook, for me to get a spark of an idea for a children’s book. Actually, it took my cousin saying, “I see the makings of a children’s book here.” Then my mind took off with visions of dragons coming awake and changing shape at certain times of the year when the moon is shining on the freshly fallen snow…

People often ask me where the ideas come from for my books. Many people have asked if they are based on true stories. They aren’t, but I feel there is some truth to every story. And there are sparks of ideas everywhere. Why does one thing catch our attention and another not?

My niece and I were talking about my work in progress on a car ride last fall. We hit on an idea for the book that gave us both chills. We looked at each other and grinned, knowing that spark of idea would make the book so much better. (Sorry, I can’t tell you what it was. You’ll have to read the book!)

People are always telling me, “I have a great idea for a book. You should write it.” Then they proceed to tell me what it is. Often, it doesn’t strike my imagination, but I am always ready to listen just in case. Here are a few ideas that have stuck over the years:

A friend told me that her aunt and uncle were murdered at their ranch in Texas. The murder was never solved. There wasn’t any reason for someone to kill them. They were good people. Nothing was missing as far as the family could tell. They didn’t have enemies, but someone went to their farm one day and killed them. Why?

A woman I went to school with disappeared. She was never heard from again. She just was gone. It was all over the news. They brought in experts, Psychics, and even put her disappearance on the television show, Unsolved Mysteries. Nothing. What happened to her?

A young woman’s body was found in the trunk of her boyfriend’s car. They thought he killed her, but they could never prove it. They had been at a party. Friends said they’d been fighting. But he was never arrested. Why”

It took many years, many times of looking at the picture of the dragon on my deck for the spark of creativity to catch in my brain. Now I can’t wait to see what becomes of it. Since I’m a mystery writer, I’m sure there will be some mystery involved. In my mind, I see the movie version coming to life. Now I just need to write the book and hope that it catches the imagination of readers. Or a movie producer!

Happy New Year!

Lana

First, Third, How do I choose?

~ patyjag ~ 10 Comments

I spent way too much time trying to decide if this new series should be written in first or third person. A lot of the cozy mysteries I’ve read are in first person. They stay in the main character’s point of view (POV) throughout the book.

In my other mystery books, I stay in third person for all the series. But the main character’s POV all the time in the Spotted Pony Casino books. Sometimes I add another POV character in my Gabriel Hawke books because the story needs that added POV. In my Shandra Higheagle Mysteries, I use Shandra and Ryan’s POV’s both.

This new series, I went back and forth between first person and third. So far the book has stayed in my main character’s POV. And I think I’ll keep it that way. It’s how most cozy mysteries are. But as I write, I find myself typing “I” and writing some sentences in first person. This makes me wonder if I need to go back to the beginning and start over, writing from the first-person POV.

Which do you feel is stronger?

Third Person

Andi Clark parked her van in front of the Auburn City Park where the first Christmas event of the year would kick off in an hour. People bustled around putting the finishing touches on craft and food booths. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving and the whole county was excited to move from the doldrums of a rainy fall into preparations for Christmas.

She never arrived more than an hour before an event. Any earlier her crew of cuddles became bored and got into trouble. The committee had asked her to set up a small petting zoo where people would enter the event. She’d parked as close as she could get with the inflatable decorations and roped-off areas making the attendees follow a specific path through all the booths and over to where Santa would listen to children’s Christmas wishes.

“Come on, Cocoa, I can use your help carrying things.” Andi unbuckled her brown and white border collie from the seatbelt harness and listened to Lulu whine. Andi scratched the Chiweenie’s dapple head and black, long furry ears. “You’re too small to help me right now. You keep Athena company.” She patted the Golden Retriever/Pyrenees cross dog’s blonde head and followed Cocoa to the trailer behind the van.

 Lucky for her all her animals were small except for Athena. The large breed cross was larger than her mini donkey and pygmy goat. Andi pointed to the bucket full of the pins that held the panels together. Cocoa grabbed the handle in her mouth. Andi gathered the top two panels and carried them to the area with a sign, Cuddle Farm Animals.

First Person

Parking my van in front of the Auburn City Park, I watched people bustling around getting food and craft booths ready for the first Christmas event of the year to kick off in an hour. It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving and the whole county was excited to move from the doldrums of a rainy fall into preparations for Christmas and the possibility of snow.

I never arrive more than an hour before an event. Any earlier my crew of cuddles become bored and get into trouble. The committee asked me to set up a small petting zoo at the entrance to the event. I made my way by the inflatable decorations and roped-off areas funneling attendees down a specific path through all the booths and over to where Santa would listen to children’s Christmas wishes.

“Come on, Cocoa, I can use your help carrying things.” I unbuckled my brown and white border collie from the seatbelt harness and listened to Lulu whine. Scratching the dapple head and soft, black, long furry ears of my Chiweenie, I said, “You’re too small to help me right now. You keep Athena company.” I patted Athena, my Golden Retriever/Pyrenees’, blonde head and followed Cocoa to the trailer behind the van.

 Lucky for me, all my animals are small, except for Athena, and fairly easy to handle. Athena was larger than both my mini donkey and pygmy goat. At the trailer loaded with panels to set up a small pen, I pointed to the bucket full of pins that held the panels together. Cocoa grabbed the handle in her mouth and I gathered the top two panels and carried them to the area with a sign, Cuddle Farm Animals.

Which version makes you want to continue reading?

When I wrote my first mystery 30 years ago, it was in first person. then an agent I sent it to, told me that no one bought mystery books in first person. Which floored me because I had just read the first three Sue Grafton books that were in first person. Anyway, I moved from first person to third and on to a different genre. Now that I’m back writing mysteries, I wonder if I also need to switch to first person for this series. I encourage all thoughts and responses to this dilemma.

A fun new adventure for me, besides trying to decide which tense to use in this new series, is having my books available to readers and listeners from my website. Yes! You can now purchase my ebooks, audiobooks, and print books from my website.

The ebooks are the same price as at other vendors but if you are a subscriber to my newsletter you will be able to purchase my new releases in ebook format from my website for a $1 less and get it before it publishes to other vendors. So if you want to get my new releases at a reduced price and before they release anywhere else, you need to subscribe to my newsletter. https://bit.ly/2IhmWcm

Also available from my website are my audiobooks, which ARE priced lower than at other audiobook vendors. Because I don’t have to pay a middleman to get my audiobooks to you, you get the reward of a lower cost. Also watch my newsletter and website for audiobook deals. As part of the IAD- Independent Authors Direct- group, I will have specials on my audiobooks every two weeks.

My print books have been for sale on my website for a year now. If you purchase a print book directly from me, you get it autographed, some swag, and free shipping. You can’t beat that!

Happy New Year everyone!

Don’t Look Back – Look Forward

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 5 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

Happy New Year! I hope 2025 is getting off to a great start for you—that you haven’t yet broken your resolutions and that you’re making progress on your newly set goals.

In the spirit of season, I’d like to pass along some words of wisdom that were presented to me quite some time ago. In the years since, I have found it helpful to reflect upon them from time to time.

Since context can be helpful, I’ll tell you the story of how I came to receive this sound advice.

One day when I was sixteen and the proud possessor of a freshly minted driver’s license, I was cruising along the main street of my hometown. I happened to glance at the rearview mirror and there, directly behind me, was a police car.

Instant panic. Omigosh, omigosh, am I going to get a ticket?

Never mind that there were no flashing lights or wailing sirens, no bullhorn demanding that I pull over. I was new at driving – I must have done something wrong without realizing it. I didn’t think I’d been speeding, but could I have crept over the limit unawares? Had I neglected to use a turn signal when I should have? Was a brake light out?

I was so intently focused on watching the cop in the mirror, trying to figure out what he was going to do, that I was three-quarters of the way through an intersection before I noticed that the traffic light was red.

Whatever the cop’s intentions had been before, now he had good reason to stop me. The lights blinked on, red and blue. The siren blared. My hands shaking on the wheel, I moved to the curb. He stopped behind me and got out. Standing by my driver’s door, he demanded to see my license.

I’m sure the fact that I was a teenage girl, prettier and blonder than I am now, made no difference. He probably wasn’t swayed by the way my lips quivered and my eyes filled with tears as I explained why I had happened to run the light. But whatever the reason, luckily for me my town’s finest decided not to give me a ticket.

“I understand how you might have been distracted,” he said. “But, you know, when you’re driving it’s always a good idea to pay more attention to what’s in front of you than to what you see in the rearview mirror.”

I promised him I would take his words to heart. Since then, I’ve realized he gave me good advice — not just for driving but for life. Be aware of where you’re going, keep your eye on the road ahead — and now and then, glance at the rearview mirror, just in case something important is back there.

So that’s what I plan to do in 2025. If the suggestion suits you, it’s yours to use as you will.

Have a great year!

* * *

Curious about indie publishing? Next Saturday, January 18 at 2 pm Pacific time, I will be moderating a panel on that very subject for the Northern California chapter of Mystery Writers of America – “Indie Authors: Things I Did Right and Things I Did Wrong.” The panelists are Rachele Baker, M.K. Dean, Ellen Kirschman, Lexa Mack, and Ladies of Mystery’s own Janet Dawson. It’s on Zoom so you can attend from anywhere. Details are here: https://mwanorcal.org/events/. Hope to see you there!

Happy New Year! or Bah, Humbug!

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 2 Comments

by Janis Patterson

Somewhere it seems to have been written that the first post of a new year is supposed to be a joyous burst of ambition, resolve and anticipation about all the wonderful things the new year brings.


Humbug!


If you’re like me, the new year is startlingly if not exactly like the old year, but with the added stress of having to remember to change from 2024 to 2025 every time you have to write a date. The house is still messy, laundry has to be done, my daily word count has been ignored, meals have to be planned, cooked and cleaned up after… Plus, I’m tired. And fat. Between the gustatory excesses of Thanksgiving, assorted parties (including a family wedding), and the several days of Christmas gatherings and the pure physicality of extra cooking, shopping and gift wrapping – naturally all done with appropriate snacks and meals – I find myself wishing that the lovely clothes I received were all a size or two larger.


Of course, this too will pass. I will return to what I was before the holidays (and hopefully lose a little more!) and wear my new garments with pride, the house will get clean (okay, cleaner) and life will return to the occasionally bizarre standard we regard as normal.


After the final excesses of New Year’s Eve.


There was a time I went out on New Year’s Eve. Friends would have parties – I even gave a couple myself – or on rare occasions my escort of the minute and I would go clubbing, where at the stroke of midnight we would scream, kiss and hug anyone within reach, dodge a flood of balloons and sip champagne. Where did we get the energy?


This New Year’s Eve The Husband and I did what we usually do on New Year’s Eve – stay home in our jammies, eat a good meal (usually leftovers from December’s overwhelming bounty), sip either a good bottle of Veuve Clicquot (the best champagne ever!) or a mug or two of egg nog (usually virgin) and make a concentrated effort to stay awake until midnight, when we kiss and express our hopes for a better new year for us and for everyone. It doesn’t get better than that, folks. This year we actually stayed up after midnight – not because of any resolution or desire to see the New Year in or a result of our libations… You see, one of our local TV stations was running a Twilight Zone marathon…


Anyway, that is why this is a most untraditional post. I am not going to wax eloquent of the delights inherent in a fresh start, or how you really can keep a resolution to write X number of words every single day, or that you now are free to really work towards making the NYT list, or any such nonsense. That would be as ridiculous as telling you to buy a gym membership and actually keep your promise to go Every Single Day… (Does anyone ever really fulfill that resolution? Anywhere?)


Truth is, you can do any of that or any other kind of beginning any day of the year. Back in my youth there was a popular poster proclaiming Today Is The First Day Of The Rest Of Your Life. Kind of cheesy, but also very true. Every day is a new beginning.


Today is your new beginning. So will be tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. Enjoy each and every one of them, but use them wisely.


Happy New Year.