I See Characters

~ patyjag ~ 4 Comments

Every writer puts a bit of the people around them into their characters. We can’t help it. A friend has a quirk that we like and we give it to a character. A relative has a situation that would make for a great subplot, we use it. Even though we are writing fiction, bringing in the bits of real life that we see brings those fictional characters to life.

Last month while working at a NIWA (Northwest Independent Writers Association) booth selling my book and those of other authors in the organization, some unusual characters came by and talked to us. One of my strengths is being a good listener. Only there does come a point with some people when even I started getting antsy and wish the person would move on. Either physically or with their topic.

One person who has stopped by our booth the last two years that I’ve been there is a man who likes to discuss how the government is listening into everything that is going on and how he believes the aliens will soon return to save the planet. He gets very adamant about why he lives off-grid and how we are all being tracked. I’m thinking someone with his perspective on life will show up in one of my books.

Another young man, well, young to me, I believe he might have been late twenties or early thirties. He had a British accent, wore his hair in a shoulder-length bob, and had on a typical t-shirt a male his age would wear and then he had on a skirt that was tight enough across his hips that you could tell he was male if his voice hadn’t given him away. He had a dog on a leash. As he talked to us, he constantly pushed the hair away from his face, adjusted his glasses, and kept his dog from wrapping the leash around his legs. He was quiet, talked a little about the books and how he’d thought about writing, but he didn’t have a clear vision of what he wanted to write.

The third person who captured my attention and sent a chill up my back was a woman. She walked up to the booth dressed in a long flowy skirt, matching sweater, and a silk scarf around her neck. She looked like the wife of a businessman or a professional herself. Her smile was wide, her eyes lit up with the smile and she said, “Hello. I’m here to spread love. Elon Musk and I are building a world filled with love. Come join us and together we can make the world a better place.” I smiled and said, “That’s nice. The world could use more love.” She asked about a couple of the books, then reiterated that she and Elon needed help to spread the love. I nodded and smiled and then- the creepy part. Her eyelids started fluttering, her eyes kind of rolled up, and her smile disappeared. When she stared at me anger simmered in her eyes and she said, “I know where the bodies are buried. I do. I know where the bodies are buried.” I had no words for that response from her. Then as quickly as she’d changed, the smile was back and she said, “I have more love to spread, ” and walked away.

I was speechless for a few minutes. The other member of NIWA who was in the booth with me had been on the phone while I was talking to the woman. I sat down, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote down everything she said and how she looked.

And that woman is a secondary character in my September release, Down and Dirty, book 6 in the Spotted Pony Casino mystery series.

It is encounters like this that give writers the fodder for their stories.

The Cocktail Party Question

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 16 Comments

by Margaret Lucke

Here’s a scene you’ll probably recognize. You’re at a cocktail party or a reception or some other event that involves standing around with a glass in your hand and making small talk with strangers. You’re chatting with someone you’ve just now met, and one of you says, “So, what do you do?”

The other one replies, “I’m a (fill in the blank). How about you?” After a brief exchange, you each nod politely and start looking around for someone else to talk to.

Some years ago, mystery novelist Linda Grant told me how she gave this standard, stilted conversation a new twist. Instead of mumbling, “Oh, how interesting,” when the other person named a profession, she would follow up with this: “Tell me, in your line of work who might you want to murder, and why? And how would you go about doing it? What weapons would you have at hand?”

The first response would be shocked silence. She could see the thought flickering in her companion’s eyes: What kind of nutcase are you?So she would smile and add, “Hypothetically of course. I’m looking for ideas for my next book.”

Then would come the sly grin. “You know, there’s this guy in the sales department . . . “

Almost everyone could come up with a person who would make a good murder victim, so long as it was only on paper. A backstabbing colleague, an overbearing boss, a customer who refused to pay a legitimate bill, a coworker who made everyone’s life hell by shirking responsibility or constantly cracking his knuckles. The types of victims and the motives for killing them seemed fairly universal.

What varied were the weapons—and it turns out that most of us have some at our disposal while we’re on the job. The car mechanic can tamper with the victim’s brakes. The clerk in the clothing store can wrap the silk sash from a dress around a person’s neck. The chef can chop a death cap mushroom into an omelet. The carpenter and the gardener can choose from several tools with sharp blades. The writer can bash someone over the head with a computer printer—and don’t think we’re not sometimes tempted.

At the time when Linda told me about her Cocktail Party Question, my husband and I owned a small printing business. The next day when I went to work I spent a few minutes doing a quick inventory of available tools for murder. We had cans of chemicals that were toxic or flammable, equipment that could be rigged to malfunction in ways that would cause its operator great bodily harm, a large paper cutter appropriately known as the guillotine. I found myself fingering the edge of the X-Acto knife blade. Very sharp, but too small to do the job? Maybe if it were pushed at just the right angle into just the right soft and vulnerable place on the body . . .

When I’ve taught mystery writing classes I’ve used the Cocktail Party Question as an icebreaker on the first day, pairing up students and having them ask and answer it for each other. At first all they can talk about is how weird the teacher is, but then they get into it, stretching their imaginations and beginning to see new possibilities for plots and characters.

Now it’s your turn. Choose your weapon as I pose the question to you: In your line of work, who might you want to murder, and why? And what weapons does your profession provide that could help you accomplish that dire deed?

Who knows, you now just might have the seed of a good mystery novel.

* * *

Speaking of mystery writing classes, I’m going to be teaching one of those this fall for UC Berkeley Extension. Ten Wednesday evenings from September 11 to November 13. It’s on Zoom so you can join from anywhere. If you’d like inspiration and information on crafting crime fiction, from cozies to thrillers, or feedback on your work in progress, this class could be for you. Check it out here: https://tinyurl.com/mysterywriting2024

My Apologies…

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 1 Comment

There’s no blog today, a fact for which I am very sorry, however between several unexpected events it could not be avoided. I apologize and promise to do better. Sometimes these things just happen, not the least of which is this week’s release of 50 BLOGS ON WRITING AND THE WRITING LIFE BOOK TWO. I apologize. I hope all of you are staying cool and hydrated in this summer heat. Please take care of yourselves. See you next month…

Sitting on a Porch, Rocking

~ Janet Dawson ~ 8 Comments

I was recently in New Mexico, where I spent several days in Lincoln and nearby Fort Stanton, in the mountains in the southeastern part of the state.

I call it location research. I look at places, landscapes, and buildings, poking around in old buildings and imagining what they looked like 150 years ago. Did this valley have that many trees way back when? Was that building there during the time of my novel? If not, what was in that spot, and what did it look like? I need to figure out what a character might see when exiting a store or residence.

That’s why I also went to Santa Fe, where I spent productive hours in the Fray Angelico Chavez Library at the New Mexico State Historical Museum. My time in the document and photo archives at the history library gave me access to maps and old photos of the places for my work in progress, a historical novel taking place in New Mexico in the late 1870s and early 1880s. It involves the Lincoln County War and yes, Billy the Kid puts in an appearance, along with a number of other historical figures.

While in Lincoln, I stayed at the Wortley Hotel, now a bed and breakfast. The original hotel was built in 1872 and in operation during the troubles in Lincoln County. I spent a lot of time sitting on the front porch of the hotel, rocking, watching the passing parade of people visiting Lincoln. I mean, the whole town is a New Mexico state historical monument. I also watched the birds, watched the flowers, watched the light change. When I sat on the back porch of the hotel, I heard water rushing by in the nearby Rio Bonito, in addition to the clucking chickens from the proprietors’ coop down the hill.

I walked the historic grounds of Fort Stanton, a well-preserved frontier fort, though it has been amended, remodeled and tinkered with since it was founded in the 1850s. Since my protagonist is the daughter of an Army officer stationed at the fort, I wanted to see what the officers’ quarters looked like, keeping in mind that they were rebuilt in the 1890s, with a second story and kitchens added. However, during the era I’m writing about, the kitchens were in separate buildings out back. That’s important information to have when my protagonist is cooking dinner. Fortunately, when I toured the unit that’s open to the public, I found an architectural drawing showing how the old quarters looked.

Talk about history. This particular unit had been occupied in the 1880s by Lieutenant and Mrs. John J. Pershing. Recognize that name? They called him “Black Jack” Pershing, perhaps because he commanded African American troops known as Buffalo Soldiers. He’s the one who led an expedition to Mexico in 1916, going after Pancho Villa, and when the United States entered World War I, he was named commander of the American Expeditionary Forces.

While at Fort Stanton, I learned that the landscape around me looked very different way back when. Now the pinon and junipers dot the rolling hills around the fort, but back then it would have been grassland. The photos I got from the history library underscore that.

I also learned about the murder in the dining room at the Wortley Hotel, back in the bad old 1870s. What? I’d never heard that one. It seems the victim was a Buffalo Soldier stationed at the fort, which was home to several units of the Ninth Cavalry. The soldiers would often come to town and have a meal at the Wortley. At that time, the hotel dining room had a big table and people sat down where there was a vacant seat. In this case, a white patron took offense at a black soldier, pulled a gun and killed him.

After Fort Stanton was decommissioned in the 1890s, it became a hospital for people with tuberculosis. That era lasted for decades. Then, in World War II, the fort housed German prisoners of war. The information gained about this is outside the focus of research for my current WIP, but full of potential for historical mysteries. My little gray cells are already thinking about plots and characters, even as I sit at my computer.

And I’m recalling how good it felt to be sitting on that hotel porch in Lincoln, NM, rocking, watching the world, and the birds.

Guest Blogger ~ PJ McIlvaine

~ patyjag ~ 3 Comments

The Monster Mash by PJ McIlvaine

A few summers ago, I was at a writing crossroads in my writing life and personally. I was a Jill of all trades: screenwriting, articles, interviews, essays, and kid-lit picture books. My first attempt at writing an adult book had failed miserably. It was a Stephen King rip-off that a big mucky muck agent had derided as “mediocre.” After I cried buckets of tears, I realized he was right. Call me many things, but not that. I vowed never again.

I’d long nursed two very different ideas: the first idea was a middle-grade coming-of-age about two brothers on summer vacation in Montauk who decide to create a monster in a failed attempt to save their parent’s floundering marriage. The other idea was a gritty, bad-to-the-bone adult thriller about a man who can’t remember exactly what happened the hot summer night his mother and brother were brutally murdered.

It was Labor Day. With the grandkids back to school, I began writing. It soon took over my life. Hunched for hours on the kitchen table, the words poured out of me. I wasn’t just in the zone, this was a white-hot blazing inferno on auto-pilot. I based my characters on people I knew and loved: my troubled brother and our dysfunctional family plus my imagination. I tossed in lots of pop and political culture, too, things I loved and hated. It was a heady brew of fact and fiction, and I loved every minute of it even though I had no idea what I was doing. Would it even work? Who knew? Not me. I was so scared that I refused to give it a title. For a long time, it was known only as THE THING.

Well, I finished THE THING–more likely, it had finished with me–after two intoxicating months. My brain was mush. I had no idea if my book–now titled A GOOD MAN–was publishable. Hell, I hadn’t even thought of anyone reading it. I write family stuff. Nice, family stuff. This was brutal, full of coarse language and behavior, and truly evil people. I knew it would probably–no, undoubtedly–turn some people off. But I hadn’t written it for some people. I had written it for me; in hindsight, it was therapeutic and I got a lot of ghosts out of my head. I like to say that some books need to be written. Well, this book chose me. I didn’t choose it. But since it had, I ran with it and pushed my boundaries far beyond what I thought myself capable of.

The road to publication wasn’t easy. Agents passed right and left. I heard every reason in the book and then some. They liked the voice, they hated the voice. They loved the characters, they hated the characters. There was too much sex. The main character was too unlikeable. I killed too many people. And the language. One agent who strung me along for weeks finally told me in no uncertain terms that A GOOD MAN was in their opinion–the words I’d dreaded–unpublishable and unmarketable as written. My sole consolation was that she didn’t say it was mediocre. That was probably my lowest point. I quietly mourned and consoled myself that it just wasn’t meant to be. I told myself the next book. For authors, hope is an eternal spring.

And then–just like in a Hollywood movie–a reputable British publisher appeared and offered a publishing contract. She told me in no uncertain terms that she thought my book–my poor little red-headed stepchild whom I loved fiercely and would defend with every breath of my being–was “brilliant.”  I wasn’t about to disagree and quickly signed the contract. The book, published in August 2024, became an Amazon best-seller. Who knew? Not me.

So what are my takeaways? Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith and trust your gut despite the nagging voices of doubt in your head. Challenging myself to write with abandon and permitting myself to fail were wonderful gifts that keep on giving. Also, you can’t please everyone. The only thing a writer can control is the writing. The rest is up to the universe and even then, you still need a good deal of luck and magic.

Monsters are real. At least, the ones in my head are, but I put them to good purpose.

A GOOD MAN

Decades after a brutal childhood trauma, a famous novelist finds his life shattered once again, in this unsettling psychological mystery thriller.

After years of turmoil, Brooks Anderson is sober and has a stable life with his wife and two kids. He should be enjoying life, but the persistent nightmares and sleepwalking tell a different story.

As hard as he’s tried, Brooks can’t run away from the defining event of his life: the senseless murders of his mother and brother during a vacation in Montauk. An eight-year-old Brooks was the sole survivor of the carnage, which left him in a catatonic state. He buried his pain and eventually overcame his demons. Or so he believed.

Now an unscrupulous journalist is threatening to write about the deaths. Fearful that the truth will be twisted to suit sordid ends, Brooks decides to write his own book, despite the grave misgivings of his agent, wife, and father.

However, when the journalist is brutally killed, Brooks finds himself in the authorities’ crosshairs. To prove his innocence and exorcise the past, he digs deeper into his psyche and that fateful summer. His relentless pursuit of the truth soon leads Brooks down a slippery slope that challenges everything—and brings him face-to-face with the real monster of Montauk . . .”

“‘A Good Man’ provides the kind of insolent first-person narration that is reminiscent of John Self’s in Martin Amis’ ‘Money’ or Mickey Sabbath’s in Philip Roth’s ‘Sabbath Theater’. . . . Perfectly entertaining and well-crafted . . . McIlvaine writes with a ferocious wit and great breadth of knowledge. ‘A Good Man’ offers all the surprises and shocks that a mystery should.” —Newsday

Buy link: https://geni.us/AGoodMan

PJ McIlvaine is a prolific best-selling author, screenwriter, and journalist.

PJ is the author of the twisty adult contemporary crime psych thriller A GOOD MAN (Bloodhound Books, August 2023),  THE CONUNDRUM OF CHARLEMAGNE CROSSE  a YA alternate history adventure set in Victorian London(Orange Blossom Books, September 2023), VIOLET YORKE, GILDED GIRL: GHOSTS IN THE CLOSET a MG historical supernatural mystery (Darkstroke Books, 2022), and the picture books NO SUCH THINGS AS DRAGONS (Roan & Weatherford, 2024) illustrations by K.M. Brown, and  LITTLE LENA AND THE BIG TABLE (Big Belly Book Co., 2019), illustrations by Leila Nabih.

PJ’s Showtime original movie MY HORRIBLE YEARwas nominated for a Daytime Emmy. Her writing has appeared in the New York Times, Newsday, Crime Reads/Lit Hub, Writer’s Digest, and elsewhere.

PJ lives in Eastern Long Island with her family along with Luna, an extremely spoiled French Bulldog/couch potato. Also, she’s distantly related to the French philosopher/feminist/writer Simone de Beauvoir (PJ not Luna).

Website: https://pjmacwriter.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pj.mcilvaine

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PJMcIlvaine

Instagram: @pjmcilvaine

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19256202.P_J_McIlvaine

Amazon Author Profile: https://amazon.com/author/pjmcilvaine