#writing – Ladies of Mystery

Ten years ago, we moved from the suburbs of an urban area in Pennsylvania to our vacation home on the south shore of Lake Ontario in New York state. Figuring out what to take and what to leave, combining two homes into one – each with its own distinct personality – was challenging, to say the least.

We knew our life at the lake would be far more casual than the one in a city suburb; we didn’t need the silver serving dishes, warming plates, crystal pitchers and elegant tablecloths that we regularly used before we retired and were entertaining a lot.

As difficult as it was, we got rid of boxes and boxes of books we donated to the library; kept only those that had absolute meaning to us. We sold numerous LP records, something I will always regret now that record players are back in favor. The couple who purchased our house bought much of the furniture; the rest we either sold at a consignment shop or brought with us, just in case we decided to use it.

We kept other items we weren’t sure we’d need but couldn’t bear to part with, storing them in our lake house attic and in Rubbermaid closets in our garage. There was a 40-cup coffee urn, three crockpots, an assembly of pots and pans for cooking and jars for canning, flower vases, a Lazy Susan, bedspreads, throws and decorative pillows; area rugs. And lots of glassware.

Because we’ve never used most of the items we stored away in the ten years we’ve been here, and we are certain our grown children don’t want them, we decided to participate in our village’s community yard sale this year. While I’m glad we did it, it was a lot of work. We chose what we could part with and a storage shed that houses our porch and deck furniture in winter served as a holding center. We determined ahead of time what to charge for each item and affixed a sticker with the price on it. On the day of the sale, we lugged everything out to our front yard in a wheelbarrow and placed compatible items with each other on tables, ladders and drop cloths on our grass.

It turned out to be a good experience. We met nice people who liked what we had to offer, and it felt good to clean out the clutter. Now our attic contains suitcases, a wicker chair that we may use at some point, and our Christmas decorations. There’s not much left to sell for next year’s sale, except for some of those Rubbermaid closets that now stand empty in our garage.

Karen Shughart is the author of the Edmund DeCleryk cozy mystery series, published by Cozy Cat Press. She has also co-written two mysteries; two non-fiction books and is a monthly contributor for Life in the Finger Lakes magazine. She is a member of CWA, N.A., and F.L.A.R.E. (Finger Lakes Authors and Readers Experience). Her books are published in multiple formats and available at local gift shops, bookstores and at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BZF9TC3W?ref_=dbs_p_mng_rwt_ser_shvlr&storeType=ebooks

I’ve just finished the second draft of Murder at Freedom Hill, the next book in the Edmund DeCleryk cozy mystery series. Draft one is the rough draft, where I have a general idea of the plot, the main characters and whodunit, but there are a lot of gaps between the beginning and the end

Draft two is the one that takes the most time, because it’s at the point where the disparate threads of the book must be woven together, the pieces of the puzzle must fit, and the story becomes cohesive. My brain almost never shuts off. I keep a notepad nearby to write down ideas as they occur to me, sometimes in the middle of the night and often when I’m multitasking. These are the ideas that help to fill in the gaps in the story and where the rough draft evolves into something smoother.

I write the introduction, dedication, and acknowledgements in draft two. I add or delete characters, expand the number of suspects, and accordingly change the story line. Now’s also when I check for timeline inaccuracies, chapters that aren’t listed in order, cut and paste sections of the book and rewrite, rewrite, rewrite: the prologue, the epilogue, chapters with missing pieces.

Then there’s what I call “wordsmithing”, changing some words to others whose meanings are more precise. Inside a folder on my desk is a sheet of paper with an extensive list of words to substitute for “said” and another of overused words. Draft two is when I make those changes, too. It’s also the time for eliminating redundancies and paring down too much dialogue.

Paying attention to detail is tantamount to having a coherent finished product, and draft two is where that occurs. Recurring characters from previous books must age accordingly- a baby can’t be a teenager three years later- and someone who is described as six-feet tall can’t suddenly shrink to five-feet seven inches. Unless they’ve changed careers, they can’t be teachers in one book and truck drivers in the next or say they were born in Rochester but in another book, Buffalo. A character with blue eyes can’t also have brown eyes . It goes on and on, I’m sure you get the picture.

After spending weeks rewriting, cutting and adding chapters, and rebuilding what I destroyed to make way for what I believe will be a better story, I’m finally comfortable with draft two and ready to move on to the final draft.

Draft three is when I polish, spend lots of time copy and proof editing, re-read recipes that appear at the end of the book, and verify that all the ‘i’s’ are dotted and ‘t’s’ are crossed, at least as much as I’m able. It’s at this point that I’m finally ready to send the book to my publisher.