Lea Wait's Blog

Kate Flora: Here’s a short Thanksgiving story you might enjoy:

I had exactly thirty minutes to buy everything I needed to cook dinner for twenty, so naturally, navigating the store was like playing bumper cars. As I snatched items off the shelves and shoved my overloaded shopping cart past two tarted-up moms blocking the aisle while they consoled about hair color gone wrong, their sleek heads bobbing and voices cooing like pigeons in the park, that famous line from Tolstoy popped into my head: Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. I don’t know anything about happy families, but I know plenty about unhappy ones, and one thing I’m certain about is that holidays bring out the worse in mine. In them and in me.

I didn’t even need to be there to script the whole thing. It was consistent every year. Mom and Dad would arrive together but not speaking. She would bustle, tight-lipped, into the kitchen and proceed to get in my way, while Dad would pop his first beer and sit down on the couch to watch football. Baby brother Jesse, who’s living with us since he lost his job, would already be on the other end of the couch, and his silent, cadaver-white girlfriend, Alyse, whose life work is either sleeping or painting her nails black, would be sitting at his feet. Next to arrive would be the “successful brother,” Jared, with his wife Molly and their three barely housebroken children, followed shortly by my oldest brother Jason, his wife Sheryl, and their two hostile teenagers.

Desserts–Before

Molly and Sheryl would come into the kitchen and unload their offerings onto the counter. Molly’s was always, and only, wine, and her first helpful act would be to open a bottle and pour a glass for herself without offering one to anyone else. Sheryl was toying with being a vegetarian, and she’d take up much of my small counter space with the containers of her own special food—only enough for herself, of course. As dinner grew imminent, with a loopy smile and a “you don’t mind, do you?” she’d move in and start her own personal prep, ignoring the fact that I was making gravy, cooking the peas, and mashing potatoes on the crowded stovetop.

By then I would have asked Sheryl if she’d have Ariel and Jonah set the table, a request she’d blithely ignore, so I’d be rushing back and forth trying to do that while not cooking the peas to mush, occasionally tripping over mom, who liked to stand in the middle of the room, muttering darkly about my dad.

 When my husband Charlie got back from hunting with his Uncle Bob and our widowed neighbor, Tom, they’d sit down in front of the TV, too, and send one of the kids out for more beer. When I’d holler to Charlie to come take the turkey from the oven, he’d pretend not to hear me because he was tired from four hours of hunting, and anyway, a working man deserved not to be disturbed. Bob and Tom were both deaf as posts, so they really didn’t hear anything, and my brothers think my poor husband is henpecked, so they’d stay put in a gesture of solidarity.

When I would finally give up and drag the turkey from the oven, I’d find the space I’d cleared for it on the counter now was occupied by two six-packs, and I’d have to stand there, all five foot nothing of me, holding a steaming twenty-four-pound turkey. I’d holler for someone to come and move the beer. If I got lucky, Mom would stop her muttering long enough to do that; otherwise, I’d be yelling until someone in the other room finally gave up and came to my aid. More likely than not, it would be Jared and Molly’s six-year-old, Annie, the most civilized person in the whole lot.

Charlie and I had no kids, and therefore, according to family reasoning, I had fewer demands on my time, which was why everyone thought it was such a great idea for us to host the holiday dinner. Of course, I worked full time, while Sheryl had a part-time job and Molly was a homemaker, but no one seemed to think that counted for anything.

Okay. Yeah. I know. Ann Landers says that nobody can make you do anything that you don’t want to do. All I can say in response is: Ann Landers must have never met my family. As the only girl with all those brothers, I’ve been expected to wait on guys almost since I could crawl. My mom was no different, which may be why she’s gone all weird now. With her, except when she bickers with my dad, it’s like someone’s turned her dial to somewhere between two stations and she’s so busy trying to make sense out of the noises in her head she can’t hear anything that’s happening out here.

Waiting for someone with a carving knife

Maybe if Charlie were on my side, that might help. I’d met him because he was Jonah’s best friend. I should have known better but at the time, I was running on hormones and not good sense and so I married him. I was knocked up when we got married, which I’ve never heard the end of, never mind that Molly and Sheryl both were, too, but I lost that baby and have never gotten pregnant since. And now here I was running through the grocery store like buying food was a 5K, when I’d sworn that last year was going to be the last time I let them do this to me.

The simple fact was that I couldn’t get anyone to listen. I’d planned it all out. Sometime around September, I’d talk with my sisters-in-law, everyone would get assignments, and we’d share the work. But even though I’d done that, and they’d all nodded and agreed, last week when I called to make sure they remembered their jobs, they’d all somehow forgotten and were just too busy add it to their schedules now. They said they were sorry.

Well, I was too busy to add it to my schedule, too, but look where I was. Back in the grocery store, making a martyr of myself because I couldn’t think how to do it differently. Maybe if I just burned the whole dinner? Or forgot to make the dressing? I’d never hear the end of that, but they were all such lazy slugs that they’d be bound to want to give me a second chance. A chance I did not want.

Once I’d loaded it all into my car, I headed for home, and it’s when I passed the CVS that I got the great idea. Everyone in my family, except the little kids, is big on stuffing. Or dressing, as my husband’s family calls it. I don’t eat it, but they’re so passionate about the stuff that they call me days ahead of time to remind me to be sure and make enough. These are the same people, mind you, who can’t find the time to do anything to help, but they’ve always got time to remind me about the dressing, which has to have cornbread and oysters. That and the pumpkin pie. There’s got to be pumpkin. And apple. And pecan. And Uncle Tom doesn’t think it’s a holiday unless there’s mincemeat. And me working late every night because we’re going into the holiday season.

I was so tired I was about in tears, trying to figure out how I’d do it all, when I passed that CVS. And it must have been the devil on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, because I found my car turning right into the parking lot and next thing you know, I was coming out with a couple family-sized packages of laxatives. They’d crush up nice in my mortar and pestle, and mix just fine in the dressing and the pumpkin pie. The way everyone gobbled, no one would notice a thing. Hopefully not until they were safely home.

I stared into my car, at all the bags of food awaiting my attention, but now I felt different. I still had a lot of work ahead of me, but for the first time in a long while, I had found my smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” I whispered, as I headed for home. Good thing I’d thought to buy extra toilet paper.

As part of our Writing Tips Wednesday, we are resharing this post from waayy back in 2012, offering some of the writing advice we’ve gotten over the years.

Kate Flora here, starting a discussion with my fellow writers about the advice we’ve been given along the way. What are some of the things other writers, or writing teachers, have told you, that stick in your mind and inform your writing? For me, two bits of advice immediately come to mind. First, from my favorite writing teacher, Art Edelstein, a man I followed through a succession of church basements and nocturnal classrooms. Art’s advice? Presence your characters. Give them attributes and actions and attitudes and voices that make your readers see them. Art wasn’t talking paragraphs. He was talking a cant of the head, a style of speaking, an indelible world view. A way of making the character come to life in the reader’s mind.

The second came from mystery writer Jane Langton, a woman who could speak about washing the dishes and I’d hang on her every word. Jane read one of my early, unpublished books, and said, “Don’t give you. This world is hard, but you ARE a writer. And then she urged me to be sure that I made scenes. Until she said that, I’m not sure I understood what a scene was. Now I tell my students: make scenes, they are the building blocks, the jigsaw pieces, that you put together to build the whole picture.

Lea Wait:  I’m envious of you, Kate!  When I was starting to write fiction I was basically on my own — no critique groups, no writing classes, no writer friends, so no real advice except in the books I read. I learned most about writing from reading books by the authors I most admired. I think I took most seriously classic pieces of advice like, “show, not tell,” and “define your characters by what they do.” Setting is very important to me, so (in my mind) I made it a character, too, and found that worked for me, as long as I kept it a background character. I started out trying very hard to obey all the rules I’d read about. Now I gleefully break many of them. But I’m still reading; still learning from the authors I admire. But advice?  Keep reading, and keep writing.

Kaitlyn Dunnett: Like Lea I was operating on my own when I started writing fiction, but I did have access to The Writer and Writer’s Digest and I’m pretty sure that it was in one of those magazines that I found a tip that I follow to this day: Start with the day that is different.

This is sound advice. Take it from one who fumbles around every time I launch into writing a new book, trying to find the right place to begin isn’t easy. It always takes me awhile, because that “different” day isn’t always the most obvious. In Kilt Dead, the first Liss MacCrimmon Scottish-American Heritage Mystery, the day that was different in the most significant way for Liss wasn’t the day she found her neighbor’s body in the stock room at Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. It wasn’t the day she returned to her old home town of Moosetookalook after ten years away. The day when everything changed for her, and the place this novel needed to start, was the day she blew her knee out during a performance, ending her career as a professional Scottish dancer. That’s why she returned to Moosetookalook. And because she returned home, she found a body. And because she found the body . . . well, you get the idea.

 

Kate: Despite following Art through those dusty church basements for a few years, I, too, was mostly on my own. I tried writing groups, but though I loved my fellow writers, they weren’t for me. I was very (and am) very solitary. And I wrote three entire novels before I wrote one that got published. A lot of writers give up long before that. But those words of advice, and encouragement when I did emerge, made a big difference. Now that I teach writing myself, I often wonder if anything I said remains and resonates in my students’ heads.

I really like Kaitlyn’s idea of starting with the day that is different. I also often share another piece of advice that is rather similar: Arrive late and leave early, meaning start as close to the necessary action as you can, and leave quickly when the story is tied up.

Barbara Ross: It’s the moldy oldies that sustain me. Anne Lamott’s “sh**ty first drafts.” I repeated that one to myself just yesterday. And whoever said, “You must write as if your mother is dead.” That’s another one I turn to whenever I’m inhibited about putting something on the page. To be clear, it’s not my actual mother who inhibits me–Hi, Mom.

Kate, I love “enter late and leave early.’ Works for scenes, chapters and whole books!

As for writing instructors, I have to acknowledge Barbara Shapiro who quite literally changed my life. She taught me all about scenes–how to structure them and how to get them on the page. She taught me how to workshop a piece, and through her I met the members of my writers group. She’s teaching a Master Class at The New England Crime Bake this year and I heartily recommend it.

Kate: Of course, the absolutely best advice came from my mother, the late A. Carman Clark, who was a newspaper columnist, journalist, home and garden editor, nature writer, mystery writer, and all-around amazing person. Her advice was simple, and I know we all follow it: Put your seat in the seat, and keep it there.

Readers, what advice did you get?

And then there’s this: Someone who leaves a comment on one of our posts in November will win a bundle of cozy mysteries. Let’s hear from you

By Kait Carson

As I write this, I’m waiting for the sun to come up so I can shovel our very first accumulating snow of the year. Shoveling snow is not one of my favorite things, but I don’t mind it too much. Yet. I live in The County. Snow’s a given, so I look at it as a home exercise program. Which is necessary this time of the year because baking is one of my favorite things.

This morning the house is full of the scent of pumpkin bread, chocolate chip cookies, puppy peanut butter drops, and Christmas cutouts. By the time this blog appears, I’ll have added the scent of cranberry sauce, pumpkin pies, and a concoction a friend and I made up that goes by the name of apple do da dey—an apple, walnut, cranberry pie with a butter crumb topping. It’s as delightful as it is decadent, and one of my favorite things.

You might have guessed that reading is another of my favorite things. November is the season of new book releases. Two of my very favorite authors have books out this month. Julia Spencer-Fleming’s At Midnight Comes the Cry, the tenth in the Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyen series, releases November 18th. It’s set in the Adirondacks during Christmas, and you won’t want to miss it. The perfect read in front of the fire for the holiday season.

Annette Dashofy’s The Devil Comes Calling released on November 7th. It’s the third of the Detective Honeywell mysteries with the fourth to follow next month. Set on the shores of Lake Erie near the ‘other’ Presque Isle in Pennsylvania, its complex plot will keep you turning the pages. Guaranteed, I read it in one night.

The Friday after Thanksgiving my house will be filled with another of my favorite things. The scent of pine from the boughs I cut before the snow flew. They’ve been hanging in the garage waiting to be turned into wreaths. Last year’s wreathes lasted well into summer.

And feel free to remind me in April, when I’m shaking my shovel to the sky and channeling the language of my sailor ancestors, that I said I didn’t mind shoveling.

Happy holidays. May your home be filled with the joy of friends and family.

 

 

When I’m writing a mystery novel, which seems like all the time now, things that I read about or see on TV often spark ideas. Sometimes I feel compelled to add whatever it is to the book I’m writing. I don’t question this, I go with it. I always figure it’s my writer brain working in the background (like one of those apps on your phone compiling data even when you’re not using the phone). The interesting thing is sometimes later discarded, but more often becomes part of the book and adds to plot.

Some feedback that’s surprised me since the publication a year ago of my latest Bernadette “Bernie” O’Dea mystery novel, Dying For News, concerns one of these things. While I was writing the book, I read an article about ice swimming — the practice of swimming during the winter in freezing water without a wetsuit or any protection. It’s not something I’d ever do, but as I was reading the article it occured to me it’s something Pete, the secondardy protagonist in my books, would do. I plunged into research on ice swimming, because as much as fiction is fiction, I like it to be as accurate as possible.

As with much of the inspiration that comes my way through reading or watching TV, Pete’s ice swimming ended up becoming part of the plot, not just some detail that pops up. It has to, right? Otherwise, it’s like tinsel on the Christmas tree — an annoying distraction that shows up in the cat’s vomit or stuck to the bottom of your sock, but doesn’t do much else.

Another important writing rule — at least one of mine — is to not over-explain or go into super-wonky detail about extras that end up in my book. Action and dialogue should explain how it works. Pete reassured Bernie about the ice swimming — how he wouldn’t freeze to death or have a heart attack — but she still fretted about it. Through their interactions and her anxiety, I figured I’d explained how it worked pretty well and addressed potential reader questions about whether it’s really a thing and if people who do it freeze to death or have a heart attack (most don’t, but some do).

So, imagine my surprise when I began getting pushback from readers about the ice swimming. Much more than anything else in the book. One email expressed disappointment that I’d have something so outrageous in one of my books. Usually, though, it’s gentle probing at author events from people trying to be polite. “Wouldn’t Pete get hypothermia?” people ask, brows furrowed with concern.

I’m always grateful that people read my books and care enough to ask me questions. So, I, too, try to be polite. I explain that ice swimming is a real thing. People do it. I add that the negatives and positives are discussed in the book. After the question kept coming up, though, my writer brain began to question itself. Did I not explain it enough? In walking that line between too much exposition and making sure readers would understand, did I fall off the side of not enough information?

The reason this is coming up now for you, dear reader, is that it came up for me again at a book group I spoke to last week. A very nice group of women who’d obviously discussed the ice swimming issue previously. When I said that yes, it’s a thing, one of the women said triumphantly to the others, “See! I told you!”

After a year of hearing about it from readers, that whole book group scene didn’t throw me off at all. It may have a year ago, but I’ve had plenty of time to acclimate to it. I’ve reread the book several times [something I do when I’m writing the next one to keep the vibe consistent], and am satisfied that I walked the line as well as I could. I’m glad it’s in the book and I’m happy with the way it’s written.

Still, it’s remarkable to me in a book that has so many things going on — some of them that could raise big conversational points — the ice swimming is such an issue. It’s funny — in a ha ha way — that mystery readers will take all sorts of carnage for granted, but they won’t buy that an athletic man struggling with his mental health who’s desperately trying to find a way to feel better would resort to an extreme physical solution.

I’ve had plenty of time to form a theory about it. I believe that readers would not cut a hole in the ice and swim in the lake in the middle of a Maine winter, so the idea of someone else doing it and not dying just doesn’t compute. Of course, they also wouldn’t murder someone, or engage in the other criminal activity in mystery novels, either. At least most of them wouldn’t. The difference is that they expect those things in a mystery novel, so they’re not a problem.

When I first included the ice swimming in the book, part of me wondered if readers would think it was just some bizarre thing I made up. I liked it, though. I wanted it. I figured I’d do the best I could to make it real for them. Writing is fun largely because we’re free to take the stuff in our heads and form it into something that actually interests other people enough that they’ll take time to read it. The bottom line is,  though it’s not fun, or even worthwhile, if the stuff in my head has to be made so generic or sanitized that everyone who reads the book is comfortable with every element.

In the end, as I frequently tell readers, fiction is fiction. Does it matter if ice swimming is real? It is, but that’s not even the point. If you’re reading a book, take the plunge, no matter how icy, and enjoy the experience.

Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Maureen Milliken (Monday), Kait Carson (Tuesday), and Dick Cass (Friday), with a Writing Tip post on Wednesday.

In the news department, here’s what’s happening with some of us who blog regularly at Maine Crime Writers:

A reminder: One lucky reader who leaves a comment on one of our posts this month will win a bag of cozy mysteries. What could be better than that?

Matt Cost was on the Saucy Dames and Cool Dudes podcast with Bonnie Graham this past Monday talking music, odd news, and, of course, books. Check it out here. On Tuesday, Cost had the honor of being the judge for the fiction category of the Joy of the Pen writing competition at the Topsham Public Library. Check it out here. Have a happy Thanksgiving to everybody who celebrates. A fine time for family. Write on!

 

An invitation to readers of this blog: Do you have news relating to Maine, Crime, or Writing? We’d love to hear from you. Just comment below to share.

And a reminder: If your library, school, or organization is looking for a speaker, we are often available to talk about the writing process, research, where we get our ideas, and other mysteries of the business, along with the very popular “Making a Mystery” with audience participation, and “Casting Call: How We Staff Our Mysteries.” We also do programs on Zoom. Contact Kate Flora

It depends. That seems to be primary answer when researching this question. This in an artistic endeavor that seems to love hard and fast rules. Proper grammar. Don’t start with the weather. Show don’t tell. Active is better than passive. Write what you know. And, of course, break any of these rules that you want and if the book sells you will be considered a genius.

So, I am going to pose the question to you, dear reader? What do you think?

I am currently writing 1956, the second in my Jazz Jones & January Queen historical PI mystery series. This is told through the eyes of Jazz, occasionally January, and from the perspective of four potential baddies as well. Not to mention the two mysterious henchmen who work for whichever suspect turns out to be the villain. These perspectives are only gently sprinkled in as Jazz Jones takes the lead for the bulk of the book. Jazz has five people, friends and family, who he interacts with and are reoccurring from book one. There are also three clients who have hired Jazz to investigate for them. Of course, there are fleeting characters who might have a name but don’t deserve a credit at the end of the movie.

By my count, the tally has reached sixteen characters in 1955 that the reader must identify with and keep straight in their head. Too many? Too few? Just right? What says you, Goldilocks?

I am also in the process of editing my third in the Chronicles of Max Creed series, Max Creed Takes the Spice Road. In this contemporary international thriller, Max has put together a vigilante band of justice seekers not unlike Robin Hood and his Merry Men. His team includes five regulars, John, Scarlett, Marian, Tucker, and Scads. Their clandestine government liaison, Sevyn Knight, is also the romantic interest. The initial target is Alex Bergmann, but other potential enemies include Bart and Coen Vos, Cleo Dearlove, Pandora, Director Morris, and General Dawson.

By my count, the tally has reached fourteen characters in Max Creed Takes the Spice Road. This is right in line with 1955. Perhaps I have a sweet spot? Fourteen to sixteen?

How Danger Got His Bark

I am also looking for a home for Bob Chicago Investigates, who also happens to be the protagonist. We then adorn him with a cast of colorful characters that include Mandisa, Giggles, and Junko. And we can’t forget his sidekick, Danger, the supermutt. In this mystery, we weave in a spectrum of six potential villains and a mysterious Japanese samurai warrior on horseback.

It appears that the sweet number for Bob Chicago Investigates was twelve. This expands the range slightly, but not much.

 

 

Do you, the reader think, that twelve to sixteen characters with significant roles in a mystery or thriller is a good number?

 

About the Author

Matt Cost was a history major at Trinity College. He owned a mystery bookstore, a video store, and a gym, before serving a ten-year sentence as a junior high school teacher. In 2014 he was released and began writing. And that’s what he does. He writes histories and mysteries.

Cost has published six books in the Mainely Mystery series, starting with Mainely Power. He has also published six books in the Clay Wolfe Trap series, starting with Wolfe Trap. There are two books in the Brooklyn 8 Ballo series, starting with Velma Gone Awry. For historical novels, Cost has published At Every Hazard and its sequel, Love in a Time of Hate, as well as I am Cuba. The Not So Merry Adventures of Max Creed began a new series this past April. Glow Trap is his eighteenth published book.

Cost now lives in Brunswick, Maine, with his wife, Harper. There are four grown children: Brittany, Pearson, Miranda, and Ryan. They have been replaced in the home with four dogs. Cost now spends his days at the computer, writing.

Living in a small town while writing about a small town has its challenges.

The questions and concerns about my novel swing from “Am I in it?” to “Where did this take place?” — and the inquiries have been pouring in since its January publication. Most times, it feels like a compliment that my neighbors want to be in my books and truly hope I’m writing about our town. Other times — and this must be when my self-doubt creeps in — it feels like they don’t believe I could actually make up all that I do.

There’s a reason novels and movies have disclaimers stating: “This is entirely fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or localities is entirely coincidental.”

Or is the resemblance truly coincidental?

The old adage “Write what you know” comes from somewhere. Of course we’re influenced by our past, our surroundings, our travels, and our speculations. I walk through life constantly saying “What if?” when I hear information as benign as a boat stranded on the beach or a broken-down car at the bottom of a ravine.

Like many writers, I’m inspired by pieces of my personal journey, news stories “ripped from the headlines,” a possible twist on history, and my own warped imagination.

In my Midcoast Maine series, my mind’s eye sees my version of Maine — my town and the region — as my fingers type. But the map in my head is mine alone, nothing a reader will ever find in the Gazetteer. In Blaze Orange, the only true part of my town that’s exact is one small segment when the protagonist, Raven, walks away from her house, with the cemetery on her right and the Secretly, Maine, Post Office on her left. When I wrote that piece, I was definitely walking beside her on Route 130, going south, reading the tombstones.

New Harbor Cemetery

Readers forget that we also have to create a structure to allow the mystery to unfold and that the landscape has to fit the story more than it fits the real-life area. When Raven and Betty pull over to allow Raven to catch her breath, it’s loosely located by the Rachel Carson Preserve on Route 32. However, I saw the space as much larger, a true scenic turnoff, not just a shoulder on the side of the road. This is partially because of the story’s needs.

Rachel Carson Preserve, Chamberlain, ME

There are characters whose traits are influenced by people in my life, and lines of dialogue lifted from others. Tom, the Deputy, is described to look exactly like my Tom but has his own characteristics. Howard loves his ham radios like our former neighbor in Damariscotta still does. Of course, some of my own philosophy creeps in, and when I’m sitting in the seat, writing, it all meshes together.

When I wrote this novel, it was my seventh. My first six manuscripts — completely different storylines and plots — hadn’t sold. So I wrote Blaze Orange without much thought about the consequences of using a location or a name. Of course I wanted it published, but what were the odds? When my contract surprisingly arrived, I had to face the choices I’d made.

For example, my murder victim’s name is Charles Kearns. That’s the real name of my oldest friend. I’ve known him as long as I’ve been alive, and we grew up next door to each other in a different small town. Over the years, I’ve written other similarly named characters — a Charlie and a female Charley — into many of my stories, especially when the protagonist needs a really good friend. Suddenly, with a book contract in hand, it hit me: the manuscript would become a living, breathing book, and I had a few decisions, and perhaps changes, to make.

I reached out to the real Charles Kearns and asked him if he wanted me to change the victim’s name. He said no but asked if I could make it ‘Charles E. Kearns’ as a nod to his great-uncle. There was one place where a middle initial would work, and thus, the name was no longer about my friend but his long-passed uncle.

I know famous authors auction off the prize to include your name as a character in their books. Perhaps, in that spirit, I shouldn’t worry about names and inspirations or locales in mine. More often than not, it appears to be a compliment to be included. Let’s hope the neighbor I ‘kill off’ in Book Two thinks so too.

***

Allison Keeton’s debut novel is Blaze Orange, Book One in the Midcoast Maine Mystery series. Arctic Green, Book Two, hits the streets (and snowmobile trails) in February 2026. She can be reached at http://www.akeetonbooks.com

 

Wednesday Writing Tip/Jule Selbo

DOUBT KILLS CONFIDENCE

Maybe someone’s got the provenance on the above observation, it’s often listed with Anger Kills Wisdom and Ego Kills Growth and a few other syllogisms that are bandied about on a ‘kill’ list appearing on self-help sites and Instagram posts (most we ignore, I know).

For lots of reasons of late, this particular ‘kill’ opinion has been plaguing me. I assume many of our brains work alike – some days our gray cells are strong and steady and act as cheerleaders, other times they are determined to make us question our every move, idea, determination, dreams and confidence.

Creative types have a history of falling into the pits that ‘doubt’ creates. Why? We’re building from our imaginations, our intellects, our points of view, our experiences (as we experience them) – plus, we want readers to buy in, enjoy, and consider our work worthy of a steady perusal. So we are, in essence, naked and unmasked and wanting to please.

Which can put us in a precarious, dangerous mindset. Even Stephen King, the beneficent and gentle friend-to-all-writers admits: I’m afraid of failing at whatever story I’m writing… or that I won’t be able to finish it. Another of his admissions: I have spent a good many years—too many, I think—being ashamed about what I write.

How to control that mindset? The ability to do so  is one of the most important parts of our craft.

Sidenote: When I was a prof at Cal State University in the Film Department, as chair of the department and head of the MFA in Screenwriting Program, I walked across campus from our relatively modest building to the huge new shiny Kinesiology Building to talk to the Sports Psychology profs. I wanted to add a course to the MFA in Screenwriting program – similar to the one that the college athletes and wanna-grow-up-to-be-coaches were taking. Basically, a course about how to get out of your doubts and fears of non-success and pave the way to a healthy commitment to doing what you love and enjoying the ups and downs of challenges.

Some of the mantras that the sports pysch profs recommended that their athletes and students use on a daily/hourly basis when workouts or events got tough and doubt crept in: “This is what I came for” .  “I am comfortable with being uncomfortable”   and  “I can do hard things” . 

I wanted to help the MFA writers in our program get over the DOUBT hurdle, the FEAR-of- finishing-hurdle and the THIS (I) SUCKS hurdle and reach the I AM, I CAN, I WILL, I DO bright yellow finish line.

DOUBT will be around, always, for many of us. It will creep in to snatch CONFIDENCE away. But we can recognize it and – at the best of times – boot it out of our brain. Some signs that sneaky “doubt” creepers are tapping on your shoulder:

Are you  asking yourself: who cares if I write this book?Maybe the most debilitating thought of all. ANSWER: YOU DO. That’s enough. YOU DO. Are you asking yourself: Am I smart enough to work out this mystery… what if the reader is so ahead of me that the book falls out of the mystery genre into the fait accompli genre by page twenty? Of course you are smart enough . You read and write and think and come up with characters and reasons and only YOU can write this story and create these characters and their motivations because it’s YOUR story. YOUR way of seeing life. It will always be original because it is YOURS.Sure, you argue. It’s “genre” fiction. Someone gets murdered. Someone is the murderer. Someone figures it out and (usually) the bad person is caught and needs to pay a consequence because a form of justice is part of the genre norm.  Remember, there are nearly 20 million crime mysteries sold every year. And new fans of mysteries that feature Nancy Drew or Holmes or Marple or Reacher or Kinsey Malone are born every year. The book will live on.  The same genre conventions are in work in each tale – but they are wrapped by the WRITER’S ORIGINAL takes and point of views. If you LOVE THE GENRE, WRITE THE HELL OUT OF IT. Some of the sports psychology advice that the Kinesiology Department shared with my MFA Writing Students – when you doubt you can finish (hit a a story block), keep telling yourself: “This is what I came for”.“I am comfortable with being uncomfortable” and “I can do hard things”. Do you ever asking yourself: Since I’ve written myself into this hole and can’t see a way out, why shouldn’t I just eat a bag of cookies and watch a Hallmark movie or a baseball game or football game or….Eat the bag of cookies. Watch the movie or sporting event. Your brain won’t stop. It’ll keep solving the puzzle (and the ah ha moment will come). That’s the mystery writers’ talent and their curse. WE CAN’T LET IT GO!If this eating and viewing crap binge goes on longer than one day – see a doctor. (Meaning a fellow writer that will give you a kick in your ass.)Kinesiology profs advice? Keep telling yourself: “Do or do not. There is no ‘try’”.

5. Do you ever asking yourself: Why are I so  hypersensitive to criticism? Why do I always focus on my shortcomings?

Shrinks/science says: The brain has a negativity bias – it’s an evolutionary leftover that prioritizes potential threats, causing us to pay more attention to negative information to ensure survival. To help us prepare for the worst.Blah blah blah, you say. It looks to me like some people just believe they are great and just race ahead – all the time. Are they just the better pretenders? Who’s to say we can’t show every negative neurosis (proudly) and still produce?No one.Sport profs advice: 100% effort is just as important at 100% attitude . Embrace the suck. Just keep running/writing.Ask yourself: Am I more engaged in other-people-pleasing or I am engaged in pleasing myself?Do you have days when you’re in the pit of people-pleasing and days you are not? (I know, I know, it usually depends on publishing deadlines).We need to get in the habit of making those “writing to please myself” days grow. Agree? Disagree?SIDENOTE: Watch the new Martin Scorcese documentary (October 2025). He went through variations of these questions and came to some strong conclusions. (Basically, the movies he made to please others did not ultimately resonate with him or the audience.)Do you ever ask yourself: Why do I compare my work and my career to others’ working in my field? No need to. YOUR work is YOURS. Someone else’s success does not diminish yours. Someone else’s creative misstep does not make you any better.Humility is a good thing. Let others be great too. Keep the head down, enjoy being part of your “genre” group, enjoy all the successes around you.Sport shrinks will say: Break your own limits. Create your own destiny. Ask yourself: Do I surround myself with supporters or negators? Is it time to shift to a new writing group? Is it time to NOT let Negative Nelly be one of your beta readers?Curb all career-masochist tendencies.Focus on surrounding yourself with a solid, supportive peer support.Find the people who appreciate your voice and your thought process, your personal quirks and interests. Find those who admire your stick-to-itive-ness and your love of getting a story on paper.Sport Psych’s words: “High-quality coach-athlete relationships, characterized by mutual respect, trust, and appreciation, are associated with lower rates of athlete burnout and a reduction in psychological fatigue and depressive symptoms. Supportive coaches contribute to an athlete’s overall mental health. This, in turn, boosts intrinsic motivation and self-confidence, key components of peak performance.”Take a good look and ask: Am I acting as my own supporter or as my own negator? Am I a good and supportive critic of my own work or am I a Debbie Downer who will never let myself off the hook?Rewriting and rewriting and rewriting…??? Is it healthy?  As we age, as we grow, our work will change. FINISH ONE THING and move on before YOU CHANGE. Let each piece reflect who you are AT THE TIME you came up with the idea and characters.Celebrate completion.Let it be done. Celebrate starting a NEW book.

According to The Synergy Whisperer, 97% percent of people who start to write a book NEVER finish it. That means that out of every 1,000 people who start a book, only 30 people completed one.  Another statistic that popped up: 81% !!!! of Americans “want” to write a book. We all know these people and love them because we see the respect, the curiosity, the desire to use that part of their brain – but it does not happen for them. What’s missing? Discipline? Inability to get beyond the idea into a story?

REMEMBER: WE ARE DOING IT!  COMPLETING WORK!  LETTING IT BE OUR OWN! KICK DOUBT TO THE CURB TODAY!

 

For those of you who want to comment/share/agree/disagree –  please do so!  You will be automatically entered into a FREE E-BOOK AWARD – book of your choice!  One of mine (or if you have read them (thank you)   –  it can be any crime/mystery you have been wanting to order (your choice). I will be send it to you via this wonderful computer thing we’ve got going!

Best – Jule

Kate Flora: When I was a book-loving little girl and imagined what the author’s life must be like, it was full of fabulous events with swooning readers and booksellers and libraries thrilled to be in an author’s presence. It was a fantasy, of course. The reality, which began for me in 1994, was far different. Doing my own PR. Driving for hours to an event only to learn that publisher had failed to send the books or given them away prior to my arrival. Once, driving through a growing snowstorm to Camden only to have the bookseller say, as soon as I arrived, “I’m sorry about that review. I had a chance to stop it but of course I didn’t.” Nothing like learning your newest book has been trashed by a reviewer in the local paper—and that the bookseller was proud of herself for not saying anything.

But that rather harsh and daunting reality has been punctuated along the way with magical moments. Among the best? The night I got to interview Tony Hillerman on stage while he was touring his memoir. I was a huge Hillerman fan…always had been, and it had been made greater by meeting him just before my first book came out, having a private chat, and getting his advice. But this night was truly special. A pair of armchairs, a little coffee table to display his books, and a conversation. At the end, when I was asking him questions the audience had submitted on index cards, I wasn’t even daunted when one of the questions was: What is the name of the woman who is interviewing Mr. Hillerman? I had forgotten to introduce myself and I really didn’t care.

An amazing and illuminating encounter was at the Writer’s Police Academy. I was on a ride along. It was a very quiet night and we were in a rural part of the city. At one point, I asked the officer I was riding with why he had stopped and questioned a lone man walking down the road. He pulled over, told me about another such night when the man he’d stopped to speak with had nearly killed him. Then he showed the dashcam video of the entire event and shared how his supervisor had reacted, how his pregnant wife had, and how the department had supported him after the event. It was one of those special opportunities to get behind the “us vs. them” curtain and understand the huge emotional impact such an event has on everyone involved. Along the way, there have been several times when the officers I was speaking with shared intensely personal information that has made me a better writer of crime fiction.

Full house on Vinalhaven

Another great event was last summer when three of us, myself, Jule Selbo, and Maureen Milliken, were invited to do a “Making a Mystery” presentation at the Vinalhaven Library. They gave us ferry tickets, put us up in a lovely house, treated us to a cocktail party, and provided a full house for our presentation. Later, there was dinner in the fridge, and wine, and we could sit for hours and talk about writing. It was absolutely perfect!!

And then there was this. Back in 2017, I had a story in a collection from Three Rooms Press called The Obama Inheritance. I got an email from the publisher that the book was going to be reviewed by Maureen Corrigan on Fresh Air. This is what she said, and my story, Michelle in Hot Water, was singled out for attention. I stood in my kitchen and listened and it felt like a thousand pats on the back.

Maureen Corrigan: A truly fabulous story kicks off this collection. Remember all those loud whispers, sparked by a fist bump, that Michelle Obama was a covert black power separatist? In “Michelle in Hot Water,” crime writer Kate Flora takes that conspiracy fantasy about the first lady and runs with it. Here’s how the story opens:

The big man with the Russian accent wore an expression somewhere between a smirk and a smile. Not a pleasant smile, but the smile of someone who likes to inflict pain and was about to do just that . … Michelle wasn’t afraid of him; bullies had been common in the part of Chicago where she grew up. Her years in the White House had shown her plenty more, even if they did hide behind expensive suits and artificial courtesies. No. … What scared her was the predicament she had gotten herself into and the trouble it was going to cause for her team: Faiza from State, Leela from the Surgeon General’s office, Charisa from the Pentagon, Lourdes from the FDA, and Alice from Justice.

Michelle, dressed in full combat gear and a Mission Impossible-worthy disguise of fake skin, has gotten caught by that Russian enforcer in the middle of a vigilante mission. It seems as though she and her team of high-level government gal pals have banded together — under cover of being in a women’s book group — to pressure pharmaceutical kingpins to lower the cost of cancer fighting drugs for kids.

When, as always, the drug makers initially refuse, first lady Michelle and her sister Amazons devise ways to inject these fat cats with a drug that temporarily renders them impotent, incontinent and bald. Part of the fun of this story is the repartee that Flora conjures up between Michelle and Barack. Like FDR, Barack realizes that his wayward activist wife can’t be reined in.

https://www.npr.org/2017/10/09/556571413/collection-puts-a-playful-pulpy-twist-on-preposterous-stories-about-obama

Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, thinking about horses. I have no idea why, but when I was contemplating possible blog topics the other day, this one popped into my head. First let me say that, no, I never wanted to own a horse. I did, however, for several years in my early teens, very much enjoy going on trail rides run by a family in nearby town. I usually went with friends, most often with my gal pals, Leslie and Lisa. Unfortunately, I don’t have a photo of the three of us. This one shows me with another good friend, Cheryl, and my next-door neighbor, Billy. We were up on the hill where the trail ride made a regular stop. The other tradition was a full gallop for the last stretch back to the barn.

My favorite mount for the trail rides was Shadow. Don’t tell the current Shadow. Cats like to feel they have exclusive rights to their names.

I vaguely remember reading a few “horse books” like Black Beauty but I was much more into girls’ mystery series and biographies of famous women like Clara Barton, Elizabeth I, and Nellie Bly. I think I had a couple of ceramic horse figurines, but I have no idea what happened to them.

Once I found other teenage interests, the horses were pretty much forgotten . . . with two exceptions. When I attended a Novelists Inc. conference in Santa Fe and the resort we stayed at offered trail rides, of course I had to sign up. It was a great way to see the scenery, but a lot harder on creaky old bones.

The other exception came from giving one of the characters in my Face Down Mysteries a love of horses. I fell down a rabbit hole researching horses and riding in the sixteenth century, and found a treasure trove of useful details in one particular book, Anthony Dent’s Horses in Shakespeare’s England. I now know a ridiculous amount of related trivia, including how long it would take to ride between various English towns. And I had the pleasure of vicariously owning and caring for a horse without the cost or the hard work. Win-win, right?

Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett has had sixty-four books traditionally published and has self published others. She won the Agatha Award and was an Anthony and Macavity finalist for best mystery nonfiction of 2008 for How to Write Killer Historical Mysteries and was an Agatha Award finalist in 2015 in the best mystery short story category. In 2023 she won the Lea Wait Award for “excellence and achievement” from the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. She was the Malice Domestic Guest of Honor in 2014. She is currently working on creating new editions of her backlist titles. Her website is www.KathyLynnEmerson.com.