Tag Archives: cozy mysteries

Occasional note: Postpartum Blues and Black Holes

29 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by in About the The House at Mt. Tabor, The House at Mt. Tabor

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

Finishing a novel brings on all kinds of feelings. It’s like postpartum blues overlaid with feelings of failure from repeated rejection. To finish is to momentarily silence the voices that propelled the work forward. After all that discipline, all that carving out space for work (after the other work I have to do is done) now what? That’s the post-partum blues bit.

The overlay of rejection is a natural process, too. Most of the rejections aren’t actual rejections. Nobody writes back and says, “This is really awful, get a life—and make sure it isn’t one that has you writing fiction!” It is more like a black hole in the universe. Your year of work is stuffed into the gaping black hole where it disappears forever along with the other stuff that is apparently swirling around in black holes. Because so many of us are out there writing, most publishers won’t look at a manuscript unless it comes in from an agent. Agents now do what editors did in years past. They groom authors, buff up their adjectives and adverbs, call attention to the 250 split infinitives, and suggest that maybe chapter four is rubbish and could be rewritten. So now, queries are sent to agents who don’t reply unless they are interested. And mostly, they aren’t.

I’ve been learning about how to write a pitch that makes an agent have another look instead of yawning and hitting the delete button. And I’ve been writing. I’ve finished off the draft of the second and am coming down the home stretch on the third book in the Mild Mannered series. The ideas compelling the characters forward in 190 Mt. Tabor Way are still exerting their pull.

Meanwhile, I’m looking at what other people are saying about how to evaluate your own work and whether to wait it out or self-publish. In the process, I ran across a website by Cliff Pickover. It includes a link to an excerpt from “How to Manufacture a Best Seller,” by Michael Maxen. The article appeared in the New York Times Magazine, March 1, 1998. I looked at it and thought, hmmm. So how does 190 Mt. Tabor measure up?

Oh, maybe it doesn’t! Perhaps I should jump into the black hole? Here’s how the self-talk went:

1 The hero is an expert. [Lets see: Carrie is an expert professor, that and $2.75 will get her a single ride on the subway in NYC. Maybe she should develop an avocation, like installing roofing tile or collecting small amphibians?]

2 The villain is an expert. [Expert at being villainous, I assume, or maybe at unusual forms of murder?—see below for unusual forms of murder.]

3 You must watch all of the villainy over the shoulder of the villain. [This makes sense. You can’t have the villain becoming the Protagonist and hogging the point of view.]

4 The hero has a team of experts in various fields behind him. [Lets see, Carrie has her daughter, Elizabeth, a graduate student in English literature; Katty, a registered nurse; Nita, a nun who heads a high school for boys; and Les, a volunteer patrol officer who walked away from the corporate world—reckon she needs a couple of tech support people?]

5 Two or more on the team must fall in love. [There is a hint of romance in 190 Mt. Tabor, but alas, it is unrequited all the way around, probably ought to think about requiting some love?]

6 Two or more on the team must die. [Better ponder this. Maybe the tech support team members die off before they are added to the plot, saving everyone trouble all the way around and solving the problem with chapter 4?]

7 The villain must turn his attentions from his initial goal to the team. [Woops!]

8 The villain and the hero must live to do battle again in the sequel. [Double woops! Question for those who kindly read the manuscript for me: should I consider a possible jail break? But then there are those trans-Atlantic crooks, perhaps they can rear their ugly heads again.]

9 All deaths must proceed from the individual to the group: i.e., never say that the bomb exploded and 15,000 people were killed. Start with “Jamie and Suzy were walking in the park with their grandmother when the earth opened up.” [Thank goodness I didn’t have the lighted American flag that spreads across the front of the Great Auditorium platform short out and kill the Auditorium choir in one psychedelic jolt.]

If you get bogged down, just kill somebody. [Thank goodness I killed off the tech support people in chapter 4.]

The good stuff was Retrieved November 28, 2014 from http://sprott.physics.wisc.edu/pickover/nytimes_bestseller.htmThe other stuff in brackets is unrequited postpartum black hole syndrome.

Another link suggested that the manuscript should have a key set of events every 1500 words, which seems to mean a murder or threat of murder. [May need to go back and leave a trail of bodies washing up on the beach. Should I enlarge the tech support team?] And yet another site suggests unusual forms of murder are more likely to get attention. [So I’m wondering if the murder in 190 Mt. Tabor should have been with a toaster oven instead of a lamp. A lamp is awfully prosaic. Or would it be more poetic if the victim slips on a newt strategically placed by the villain?]

 

Jay Ward Thomas–occasional note

10 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by in Characters, The House at Mt. Tabor

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

Jay Ward Thomas never appears as a character in 190 MOUNT TABOR WAY, but his influence is felt throughout. A completely fictional character, the senior Thomas draws on characteristics of several ministers of the 1800s and early 1900s, for example, the English preacher, novelist, poet and amateur naturalist, Charles Kingsley (1819-1875) and the Scottish teacher, evangelist, artist and musician, Oswald Chambers (1874-1917). Kingsley helped organize the Christian Socialist movement in England. He corresponded with Darwin, whose theories he accepted, and was friends with important writers of his time. Among his writings is the novel Westward Ho.   Chambers is best known for his classic in devotional literature, My Utmost for His Highest (1924). It was published after his death, has been translated into 39 languages, and hasn’t been out of print since it was first published.

We first hear about Thomas in chapter three when Carrie is looking over the program for a Sunday night service at the Great Auditorium. She remarks that the speaker, Jay Ward Thomas III “must be grandson of the famous Jay Ward Thomas who wrote My Life in His Hands, It was in nearly every evangelical household back in the 1920s—my grandparents had a well-worn copy.” Unlike Kingsley and Chambers, Thomas never married. Jay Ward Thomas III is the grand nephew.

We learn more when Carrie meets Sarah Lea Davidson. The senior Thomas was her uncle and stayed at 190 Mount Tabor for a couple of weeks every summer. One year he spent the whole summer. He kept peppermints in his pockets for the children, who adored him. His bedroom was the one Elizabeth occupies when she visits 190.

In chapter seven Elizabeth is thrilled to find that Sarah Lea has the complete collection of her uncle’s books. None of them are signed because “My uncle never even wrote his name in the books he owned! I suppose that was one of his quirks,” Sarah Lea explained. “He had his ways, as my mother used to say. He never wrote out his sermons, either. He had notes, but he wanted to be ‘present in the moment,’ I think that was the way he put it.”

Later, when Ward and his wife Melinda spontaneously stop by the house, hoping to have a look at where the senior Thomas stayed, we discover that Elizabeth did her Senior Paper in college on Jay Ward Thomas. She points out that he never intended that his sermons be published. According to Elizabeth, “Thomas preferred a quiet life. He didn’t want a following, he wanted to help people find God and care for those in need, not to point to himself. He didn’t like the large crowds and publicity.” Furthermore, “Jay Ward Thomas was a scholar. There’s real spiritual and intellectual depth to his writing”

Katty McCleary, Carrie’s long-time friend, hints at his Scottish roots in chapter ten when she points out “The senior Thomas studied at Edinburgh and served in the Church of Scotland before coming to the States. His Bible studies and devotional books were widely read there, as well as in the U.S.—still are.”

“Jay Ward Thomas was an intellectual,” Katty pointed out. “His ideas appealed to people across all social classes. And if you read his books, he never put anybody down. He certainly had respect for people of other religious traditions. His writing is so full of compassion.”

When she found the old wedding certificate behind the mirror in her bedroom, Elizabeth didn’t realize it was in the room where Jay Ward Thomas stayed when he was in Ocean Grove. As it turns out, the certificate tells us even more about the Thomas history.

 

 

 

 

 

Of Pie and Pimms–occasional note

12 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by in About the The House at Mt. Tabor, So why a cozy mystery?

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Of Pimms. In Chapter 12 things have been hectic. Elizabeth says, “I think I’d like a long evening-in with a nice supper and one of those lovely novels.” She’s thinking of the shelf of Grace Livingston Hill novels that Sarah Lea Davidson has made available to her.

Carrie agrees, adding that afterward she’d like “a nice after dinner Pimms and time to watch the sunset from the porch.”

Nearly twenty years ago I had my first Pimms No. 1 Cup at The Trout Inn on the Thames. The Trout is about a twenty-minute walk from the center of Oxford along a winding footpath through a meadow. It had been a warm afternoon in the city so the walk out into the countryside was welcome. It was just about sunset when we saw The Trout, a quaint old stone building. What a wonderful treat to sit outside at one of the wooden picnic tables watching the changing light overlooking the river. I was told I’d like “The Oxford Summer Drink,” described as “very refreshing.” I was not disappointed.

A few years later I was in Tokyo for the summer. It was terribly hot. A friend from the UK invited me to her apartment and asked if I’d like to try “The Cambridge Summer Drink.” A graduate of Cambridge, she described the drink as “very refreshing.” Out came a bottle of Pimms and another of fizzy lemon. (By this time I understood that lemonade, as I knew it, was referred to as lemon squash by friends from the UK and fizzy lemonade was carbonated.) She cut orange, lemon and lime, threw in a stick of celery and some mint, maybe a cherry or strawberry—I don’t remember. I just remember that it was the same drink I’d had at The Trout with slight adaptations. I learned later, this drink is referred to as the Wimbledon drink, too, perhaps because a Pimms bar was opened at Wimbledon. It must be just the thing to sip one’s Pimms and watch the matches.

The Pimms Cup or Summer Cooler, by whatever name, is reported to be second only to tea in popularity in the UK. Finding it here wasn’t so easy a few years ago (unless you were in New Orleans, I’m told). I recall a few years ago when I thought it would be fun to serve a summer cooler to friends who were visiting at the house in Ocean Grove. We went out into the surrounding area looking for a bottle of Pimms No. 1 Cup. An hour and a half, and I can’t remember how many puzzled expressions later, we found a store that carried it.

According to an article in The New York Times, the summer cooler is now becoming popular sate-side. When I was looking for it’s history I discovered that there is some discrepancy in reports of the date it was created. In any case, sometime in the 1840s, James Pimm introduced a tonic for digestion in his Oyster Bar on Poultry Street in London. It wasn’t bottled until the late 1850s. So it’s a Victorian drink. James Pimm didn’t share his secret ingredients. “The recipe is still a secret, and only six persons know exactly how it is made” Retrieved May 26, 2014 from http://www.webtender.com/db/ingred/150

See

http://recipewise.co.uk/pimms-cocktail-recipe

britishfood.about.com/od/drinkingtraditions/a/pimms.htm

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/13/dining/the-pimms-cup-grows-in-popularity-as-a-summer-cocktail.html

Of Pie. In Chapter 14, Carrie has one of her legendary lemon cream pie failures. It turns out to be an explosive event. We don’t know anything about her past failures except that one unfortunate episode was due to technical errors resulting in “an island of weepy and shriveled meringue on top of a runny filling.”

The difference between a lemon meringue pie and a lemon cream meringue pie depends on what one means by lemon cream meringue. There are lemon cream pie recipes that call for cream cheese or sour cream in the filling. In Carrie’s recipe, milk is used rather than water; otherwise it is similar to the traditional lemon meringue pie.

A good pie requires a good crust. Many people like to use a piecrust mix or buy pre-made crusts, but Carrie wouldn’t approve. Making your own is not so hard and worth the effort. Carrie’s recipe is pretty standard and may be used as an alternative to violence in working through frustrations.

 Pie crust for one 9” pie 

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit.

Mix together:

1 cup all-purpose white flour

½ teaspoon salt

pinch of sugar

1/3 cup shortening

1 tablespoon margarine or butter

Add half a tablespoon at a time:

3 tablespoons ice water (approximately)

Cut the shortening into the flour and salt using a pastry blender or two knives until the mixture is crumbly. (This is the opportunity to work out frustrations.) Lumps should be no larger than the size of a small green pea. Stir in the water, adding 1-2 teaspoons more as necessary. You should be able to gather the dough up into a ball without it falling apart or being sticky.

Pat the dough into a flat round shape and roll into a circle with a floured rolling pin. The circle should be a couple of inches larger than the pie pan (from the rim or turned upside down). Roll the pastry onto the rolling pin and position it over the pie pan. Ease the pastry into the pie pan and press it down against the bottom and around the pie pan side. Trim the pastry about an inch wider than the rim. Flute with a fork or by hand, anchoring the curst under the rim to discourage shrinkage. Prick the crust all over with a fork. Put a round of parchment paper or tinfoil on the bottom of the pan, fill it with rice or beans and set it on the middle rack of the oven. Reduce the heat to 400 degrees F. Cook for about 20 minutes. Remove from the oven. Remove the beans and return to the oven. Bake until the crust is lightly browned.

Set aside to cool while you make the filling.

As Carrie puts it: “A good pie crust requires a bit of effort. No matter how precise you are, you can never be sure the combination of ingredients will be right. Sometimes you have to add a bit more water; sometimes the measured amount is too much. So much depends on the weather. It’s never certain. . . But that’s why it’s fun! The uncertainty is what keeps it interesting.”

Carrie knows the lemon cream meringue pie by heart. What could be better than “a glorious, golden brown” pie filling “the kitchen with the incomparable smell of a fresh lemon meringue pie.”  Unless, of course, things haven’t gone right–but that is part of  the book and I don’t want to spoil any surprises.

Lemon Cream Meringue Pie

2 cups milk

2/3 cup sugar

3 to 4 medium-size lemons (juiced and strained to make ½ cup + 2 tablespoons juice)

1/4 cup cornstarch

4 egg yolks

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

In the top of a 2 quart double boiler (or over low heat), combine milk and sugar. Bring to a boil.

Mix lemon juice and cornstarch in a separate bowl. Beat the egg yolks into the juice and cornstarch. When the milk and sugar are boiling, whisk about a third into the lemon mixture, pouring in a small stream and beating constantly with a wire whip or whisk. Add up to another 1/3 of the milk and sugar. Then return this combined mixture back to the boiling milk and sugar, whisking constantly until all has been added and the filling boils and thickens. Boil for a minute or two, stirring constantly.

Remove from heat. Add butter and mix thoroughly.

Cool for a few minutes.  Spread the slightly cooled filling evenly in the crust. Set in a warm place where it will stay warm while making the meringue.

Meringue  “The trick was to have the whites stiff enough to turn the bowl upside down without them spilling.”

Oven set at 400 degrees F.

4 egg whites

pinch of salt

pinch of cream of tartar

1/3 cup sugar (some people add up to 2/3 cup sugar, but Carrie likes hers less sweet)

Beat egg whites, salt and cream of tartar until they form stiff peaks. Gradually beat in sugar a tablespoon at a time. Continue beating until the meringue is glossy and forms stiff peaks that don’t collapse. Add ¼ teaspoon of vanilla if desired. Spoon onto hot pie filling. Swirl the meringue over the pie, taking it out to the edges of the crust. Sealing it at the crust prevents weeping meringue.

“Carrie gently turned the meringue onto the warm pie, keeping her spatula upright to keep the volume in the large mound of white. She carefully swirled it out to touch and seal the crust. She liked a nice meringue, not the piles one found on most bakery pies, but a nice mound. The meringue browned in the oven while she tidied up.” It was a keeper.

Of Pie and Pimms. Lemon Cream Meringue Pie will go very nicely with tea. It will not go nicely with a Pimms Cup! A summer cooler is better paired with watching the sun set, if not over the Thames or from a front porch in Ocean Grove, then from some other lovely space.

Hope you like the recipes, by the way! They’re family recipes, handed down from a line of serious lemon cream pie fans.

Sarah Lea Davidson–occasional note

07 Wednesday May 2014

Posted by in Characters

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

In Chapter 5, Carrie meets Sarah Lea Davidson. Sarah Lea is not named for Sara Lea baked goods, “always delicious, always in season.” Her name and much of her temperament are borrowed from a wonderful woman of about the same era.  Names are important. A writer must make choices that are sensible and that fit the person he or she is creating.  Sarah Lea more or less emerged from the context and I knew her name was right from the first.

Sarah Lea’s one of the Grove Girls in the book—more about them later. For now, they’re a group of women who grew up together around their summers in Ocean Grove. Like my own aunties, who were forever known as “the girls,” they will always be girls to those who know them.

We first meet Sarah Lea in Chapter 5 when she notices that Carrie is walking along on the boardwalk, completely preoccupied. “You could miss seeing how beautiful the water is this morning, if you keep that up,” she cautions. Carrie ends up sitting with her on a bench overlooking the ocean and chatting. She learns that Sarah Lea’s grandmother owned the house at 190 Mt. Tabor Way. Many of her fondest childhood memories are associated with it. No small wonder that she keeps an eye on comings and goings.

Sarah Lea has a direct view of the house from her apartment in the upstairs of another lovely Victorian house, a larger one, diagonally across the street. She uses her view to full advantage, too. “I’ll bet you think all I do is sit and look out the window!!” she laughs. The thought has occurred to Carrie.

The house where Sarah Lea now lives is the childhood home of another of the Grove Girls, Betty Blakemore Hanks, who grew up in Ocean Grove. Betty and her husband George lived in the upstairs apartment when they were first married, moving away for a brief period when their family began to expand. They returned to take care of the house when Betty’s parents could no longer manage. They’ve lived there ever since. These details are all back story, but they are part of my thinking about Sarah Lea and her closest friends.

When we meet Sarah Lea, we learn that her brother Hugh is a retired lawyer, apparently of some influence. He made an unfortunate second marriage to a woman who was after his money. “She was a city girl, the second wife, Manhattan, East Side, old money—or so she said. I never was so sure about that.” Sarah Lea tells Carrie. “In fact, I think it may have been the opposite. Hugh was a prominent lawyer before he retired and very well off. You might say we came from old money. My Daddy was a doctor. We grew up in a very fine house overlooking the Hudson River. But that didn’t make us too uppity for Ocean Grove.” When Hugh sold the house, “along with every stick of furniture in it,” in the unending effort to please his new wife, there wasn’t any place for Sarah Lea in Ocean Grove except in one of the hotels or guesthouses. After Hugh’s divorce, he started returning to Ocean Grove and they shared a guest suite at one of the many lovely Victorian inns. But, while there are many charming accommodations in Ocean Grove, the Grove Girls couldn’t imagine Sarah Lea without a place of her own. Since she’s capable of getting up and down stairs without any problems, the upstairs apartment at George and Betty’s is a good match.

Sarah Lea’s uncle was the late Jay Ward Thomas (also fictional, as are all the characters), a noted speaker, writer, and theologian, who was a frequent guest at 190 Mt. Tabor Way. Sarah Lea speaks of him fondly, “Us kids adored him. He kept peppermint candy in the pocket of his suit coat and we had to find it.” But she isn’t close to her cousin, Ward, who is featured speaker at Camp Meeting. “His parents moved to California before he was born. I was glad to hear they were passing Uncle Jay’s name along. I always remembered Ward on his birthday and Christmas, well, up until he was through college. But they never came back to visit and we didn’t go there. California was such a long way off. And I suppose it was selfish on my part, but I never got so much as a thank you from the young Ward Thomas, so I quit trying to keep up with him.”

Webster is a frequent guest at Sarah Lea’s, so much so that Sarah Lea leaves her back window open so she’ll have a convenient entrance. “Webster would be welcome at my house. I’ve known her since she was a kitten, but she’s only good for short visits. She is attached to the house,” Sarah Lea acknowledges.

Carrie and Elizabeth first visit Sarah Lea with an ulterior motive (Chapter 7). Someone has broken in at 190 and they wonder if she might have been watching when it happened. They leave knowing nothing more about the break-in, Sarah Lea was entertaining Webster.  But they’ve begun a real friendship with someone who also appreciates a good cuppa and the old fashioned wholesome romance novel where everything turns out sunshine and roses.

I became very fond of her as the book unfolded. I was very sorry when it became apparent that not everything would come out sunshine and roses for Sarah Lea, but that comes later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So why a cozy mystery?occasional note

13 Thursday Mar 2014

Posted by in So why a cozy mystery?, The House at Mt. Tabor

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

I didn’t set out to write a cozy mystery, I had a story to tell. When it came time to label the story, cozy mystery seemed the best description.  Usually, a cozy mystery is a small town story featuring an amateur sleuth. Very often the sleuth is a woman who happens to be a keen observer and who has her wits about her—a Miss Marple, for example. The sleuth is able to fly in under the radar because she isn’t seen as particularly threatening.

Like other cozy mysteries, THE HOUE AT 190 MOUNT TABOR WAY is a wholesome story that deals with unwholesome motives and events without getting overly explicit about sex and violence.  But, caution to the reader: upon entering into the languid description of Ocean Grove and the house at 190, it isn’t a good idea to gear down with Carrie and her daughter Elizabeth.  Things aren’t going to be as uncomplicated and comfortable as they seem. There are details to be noticed along the way. Carrie and Elizabeth aren’t noticing them at first, to their regret and almost to their peril. But forewarned, the reader may notice them.

In a cozy mystery, there’s a puzzle that has to be solved.  One of the things I enjoy in a good mystery is trying to solve the puzzle first, before the author tells all! Maybe even before the sleuth. To get herself and Elizabeth out of harm’s way, Carrie has to grapple with two unrelated but interlocking puzzles. In the final chapter, Elizabeth tells her that in the ancient genera of the Chinese mystery, there are three unrelated plots that the detective must untangle. Carrie has untangled two. Elizabeth offers her opinion about the third, but I wouldn’t want to spoil your fun. Hopefully, you’ll have a chance to read the whole story. I am actively seeking a publisher. For now, I’m posting the first three chapters. I’ve also included links about the very real context, Ocean Grove, New Jersey.