Honorable Heroes

Jan Grape

Despite what some in our country have said or even still say, and despite the public's lack of remembrances on D-Day and Pearl Harbor Day, the 7^th of December, I still like to remember and honor WW-II veterans. Maybe because it's been over 82 years since Pearl Harbor was bombed. While the wars afterwards, like Korea, Viet Nam are in the distant, 70 and 48 years ago, respectively, too many people think of them as ancient history. My children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren should all know of those historical days and learn about things that happened during my father's life-time and my life-time.

You should know heroes come in all shapes and colors and religions and backgrounds and perhaps even other planets. Sometimes it might be a family member of some person you know and love. Like even a best friend's husband.

Like this young man, Courtenay Wright who was born and raised in Canada.

He was 16 when Germany declared war on Britain and France. He immediately wanted to enlist, but needed his mother's permission. She refused, saying he must finish his undergrad studies first. He immediately enrolled at the University of British Columbia, attending around the clock and finishing with a degree in physics at age 19.

A week later Courtenay, joined the Canadian Navy and almost was immediately seconded to the Royal Fleet. Canada had agreed to provide engineering and physics students to the British Navy to train in the new field of radar and work on British warships.

Courtenay Wright

At age 20, Courtenay was the radar officer on the HMS Apollo which took Eisenhower and Montgomery to Normandy beaches. He was the officer on duty when the coded signal came in from the Admiralty. He was the first person in the world to know the exact time and destination of the landing as he translated the radar message and hand carried it to the head of the fleet. This historical day, is also known as June 6, 1944 D-Day. The troops landing at Normandy, which was the beginning of the end of Germany and WW-II.

The BBC once interviewed Courtenay Wright, former Royal Navy Lieutenant, long-time professor physics at the University of Chicago, and if you haven't yet guessed, he was husband of mystery novelist Sara Paretsky. The young interviewer wanted to know what had it felt like, the thrill, the awe, whatever emotion Courtenay could remember from that moment.

Sara Paretsky

Courtenay kept saying, "It was my job. I was doing my duty." That overrode any sense of being special. No hero or glory in this man's mind or being.

Sara says, "Courtenay had the highest sense of duty and the highest level of integrity and morality of anyone I have ever known."

I personally never met Professor Wright, sadly he passed away in 2018 age age 95, but he was a hero. He certainly was not "a loser or a sucker" as an ex-President once said about soldiers or military persons.

We don't just have war heroes. They may be law enforcement, fire-fighters, first responders, life-guards or your own dad or wife or signifigent other. They seldom ever talk about it and if you ask them they usually smile. "I was just doing my job. Or I just happened to be there at the right time."

Professor Wright worked with scientists of his day, including Enrico Fermi, and was one of the scientists who wrote to the president advising against using atomic weapons in Southeast Asia. Men like Courtenay Wright are honorable heroes because of their life-long work to keep all of us safe.

May all your heroes know you care for them this Christmas Day. May Santa fill your stocking with acceptance letters and royalty checks and may we all have PEACE from wars wherever they may be waging. And bring home all hostages NOW, please, Santa.

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Why Sara Writes

Sara Paretsky
© Steven Gross

Introducing Sara Paretsky…

In 1986, I read the first V I Warshawski private eye book, Indemnity Only. I also was writing a female P.I. novel when I learned women mystery writers at Bouchercon were meeting and forming a group called Sisters In Crime. One major objective of SinC was to raise publishing and public awareness of women mystery writers. This organization was the brainchild of V I Warshawski’s author, Sara Paretsky.

In 1988, I attended my first Edgars and Bouchercon. I quickly learned Sara was passionate about women writers getting a fair shake.

In 1990, my husband and I opened a mystery bookstore in Austin. Three years later, we hosted a mystery convention, Southwest Mystery Con. A small group of Austin mystery women formed a chapter we named Heart of Texas Sisters in Crime. Through that, Sara and I became friends. I’m proud our H•O•T chapter of SinC still meets monthly. I’m proud that Sara still fights for women mystery writers. And I’m honored to introduce Sara as today’s guest writer.

Sara Paretsky and her acclaimed P I, V I Warshawski, transformed the role of women in contemporary crime fiction, beginning with the publication of her first novel, Indemnity Only, in 1982. Sisters-in-Crime, the advocacy organization she founded in 1986, has helped a new generation of crime writers and fighters to thrive.

Among other awards, Paretsky holds the Cartier Diamond Dagger, MWA's Grand Master, and Ms. Magazine's Woman of the Year. Her PhD dissertation on 19th-Century US Intellectual History was recently published by the University of Chicago Press. Her most recent novel is Fallout, Harper-Collins 2017. Visit her at SaraParetsky.com

— Jan Grape

Why I Write
by Sara Paretsky

    Years ago, when I was in my twenties, I heard an interview with the composer Aaron Copland. The interviewer asked why it had been over a decade since Copland's last completed composition. I thought the question was insensitive but Copland's answer frightened me: "Songs stopped coming to me," he said.

I wasn't a published writer at the time, but I was a lifelong writer of stories and poems. These were a private exploration of an interior landscape. My earliest memories include the stories that came to me when I was a small child. The thought that these might stop ("as if someone turned off a faucet," Copland also said) seems as terrifying to me today as it did all fifty years back.

I write because stories come to me. I love language, I love playing with words and rewriting and reworking, trying to polish, trying to explore new narrative strategies, but I write stories, not words. Many times the stories I tell in my head aren't things I ever actually put onto a page. Instead, I'm rehearsing dramas that help me understand myself, why I act the way I do, whether it's even possible for me to do things differently. Where some people turn to abstract philosophy or religion to answer such questions, for me it's narrative, it's fiction, that helps sort out moral or personal issues.

At night, I often tell myself a bedtime story- not a good activity for a chronic insomniac, by the way: the emotions become too intense for rest. When I was a child and an adolescent, the bedtime stories were versions of my wishes. They usually depicted safe and magical places. I was never a hero in my adventures; I was someone escaping into safety.

As a young adult, I imagined myself as a published writer. For many years, the story I told myself was of becoming a writer. Over a period of eight years, that imagined scenario slowly made me strong enough to try to write for publication. After V I Warshawski came into my life, my private narratives changed again. I don't lie in bed thinking about V I; I'm imagining other kinds of drama, but these often form the subtext of the V I narratives.

I'm always running three or four storylines: the private ones, and the ones I'm trying to turn into novels. I need both kinds going side by side to keep me writing.

Storylines are suggested by many things- people I meet, books I'm reading, news stories I'm following- but the stories themselves come from a place whose location I don't really know. I imagine it as an aquifer, some inky underground reservoir that feeds writers and painters and musicians and anyone else doing creative work. It's a lake so deep that no one who drinks from it, not even Shakespeare, not Mozart or Archimedes, ever gets to the bottom.

There have been times when, in Copland's phrase, the faucet's been turned off; my entry to the aquifer has been shut down. No stories arrive and I panic, wondering if this is it, the last story I'll ever get, as Copland found himself with the last song. If that ever happens permanently, I don't know what I'll do.

So far, each time, the spigot has miraculously been turned on again; the stories come back, I start writing once more. Each time it happens, though, I return to work with an awareness that I've been given a gift that can vanish like a lake in a drought.

Wanted Mystery Readers

by Jan Grape

Mystery readers are a varied and particular group. The majority of them want what they like to read best and all you have to do is point them to their favorites are.
And exactly what are their favorites? Cozy, Private Eye, Legal, Medical, Historical, Soft boiled, Hard boiled, Noir, Police Procedural, Who Dunnit, Woman in Jeopardy Thriller, Paranormal Cat Mysteries, Dog Mysteries, Comic Capers? And what about True Crime?

Did you realize there are so many different divisions in Mystery? Only when I owned a bookstore did I really realize that there is a huge variety under the mystery umbrella. What's funny to me is many people say, "Oh, I never read mysteries." But when you ask who do they read, they say, "Oh, I read James Patterson, Michael Connelly, Lee Child, Charlaine Harris, Stephen King, Sara Paretsky, Sue Grafton, Janet Evanovich, Kathy Reichs, Tony Hillerman, Mary Higgins Clark, Jonathan or Faye Kellerman."

Okay, I guess these authors write what is considered suspense, not mystery. I personally would say all of those authors write mysteries. I don't understand why people don't consider these best selling books are mysteries. Are they ashamed and don't want too admit they read mysteries. Do they think mystery is low-brow. Or maybe they think if a book is on the New York Times Best Seller List it's not a mystery? Often when a writer says they are published and they write mysteries, someone invariably will ask (usually one of your off-side relatives) when are you going to write a REAL book. That's when I want to run away screaming.

What about Harlan Coben's books? They are usually high suspense but they also are mysteries. A crime is committed, usually someone is murdered and a man (or a woman) is caught up in a situation they have no knowledge of or how to solve the mystery. Sometimes they or their loved one is in jeopardy and the main character has to use everything they've ever learned or known to save the loved one or themselves.

Back to my original question, what do mystery readers want? I can only say what I want in a book. I want a character that I like and like to root for, although I don't have to have a perfect character. In fact, it's much better if the main character has vices or flaws. However, it's nice if you see the main character in one place and, by the end of the book, the main character is in another place, perhaps changed a bit. Becoming a better person, maybe or at least has a different outlook on life.

I like reading about a location that's new to me like Alaska or Iceland, Hawaii or Florida. Places where I can learn about a state or country, their customs, foods, peoples.

I feel that way about someone who has an occupation I'm not familiar with, like Fran Rizer's character who works in a funeral home. Her character is also from South Carolina and I've never been there so I enjoy reading about the coastal area of the Atlantic side of our continent.

I also enjoy reading about a place when I have been there and see a few things in the story that I've seen. Like reading The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, set in Sweden. I had two short trips in Sweden, but I had been to Stockholm and several of the other locations mentioned. That made the book more fun and interesting to me.

I enjoy reading good stories wherever they're set or the people who populate the mystery story. I like a story that begins with some action. I'll go along with perhaps fifty pages but something better be happening by then or forget it. It doesn't have to be a bloody murder; the murder can have taken place off scene, but I want to see the main character doing something to move the story forward. If you're a writer, write the best most intriguing book you can. Don't forget that if you are bored with the story then your readers most likely will be bored, too.

If you're a reader, proudly admit that you like mysteries. Some of the best writing is being done under the mystery/suspense umbrella. Trust me. Mystery writers cover the major issues of the day. And in about 98% of mystery books, the bad guy is caught and justice prevails, which doesn't happen in the real world often enough.

That's my opinion, what do you think, class?

A Week In The Glamorous Life...

Class, I'm not working on a particular writing project at the moment...have a couple of irons in the fire. But after this week, I need to get back to writing just to rest up.

On Monday, I had a horrible sinus headache, but managed my usual putting clothes in the washer, transferring same to dryer, folding and putting away. I did drive the 5 miles into town only to discover the major fact that I had forgotten...Columbus Day is a Federal holiday and the bank and post office were closed. The way I found out the bank was closed was I parked, jumped out and at the front door, I pulled. It was locked...why??? Then I saw the sign stating they would be closed for Columbus Day. I turned around and said out loud, "My first clue was no cars in the parking lot." This is a small regional bank and there's usually not many cars around. Back home to make dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, then shower and finally into bed, still nursing my aching head.

On Tuesday, I bowl in a bowing league. Now that probably doesn't sound too exciting to most of you, however, I have bowled once, twice or three times a week for over thirty years. Last year, the bowling center in my nearby town closed. Shortly after that I drove into Austin, 58 miles one way on a Thursday night to bowl. That wasn't fun.  This year a group of us bowling ladies started a league and are bowling in Fredericksburg, 39 miles one way. The best part is that one of my team members and I take turns driving. It's good fun and good exercise. We leave Marble Falls at 11:15am, bowl at 1:00pm and get home about 3-to-3:15p. Back in Marble Falls, I drive to the bank and PO and take care of a couple other errands that I missed out on the day before. I also called my primary doctor's office to see if I could get an appointment soon. The new federal law that went into effect on Oct. 6th says you must see your doctor and get a written prescription to get your Schedule 2 pain pills. Fortunately, they had had a cancellation and I could come in the next day at two p. Great, I say, put me in at that time.

On Wednesday, after showering and getting ready I head to Austin at 12:45p, this is for a 65 mile one way trip. I get 30 miles from Doctor's office and get caught in a huge traffic jam.  Finally, the traffic moves, but it's only 8 minutes until my appointment time. Never did see the cause for the jam but there is one of those over-size load trucks parked on the shoulder so guess that might have been part of the problem. I call the appointment person and am told they will informed the nurses in back. When I get to the doctor's office at 2:30, I wait a few minutes and discover that I won't be able to see the doctor but I can see the physician's assistant. That's okay because she can see me, then catch the doctor who will then write the prescription for me. But I do have to wait...and wait...and wait, for almost two hours. While I'm in with the PA we're talking about the new law and we agree it's necessary because too many people abuse it. And she said, with people like you, we know you and know you're not going out on the highway when you're caught in traffic jams and sell your pain meds. "You mean I could have done that? Darn I missed the boat." She almost fell off her stool laughing. With my precious prescription tucked into my billfold and inside my purse, I head west at 4:50p which is now rush-hour time in the city. This late I'll miss my music night out and dinner out so I stop and get BBQ to go and then stop and get gas for my car. By the time I get home it's ten to seven and I'm a bit draggy.

Thursday rolls around and I catch up on a little housework. Clean up hairballs from the cats and then get ready to go once again. I'm volunteering three hours (from 3 to 6p) at our little Cottonwood Shores library. Since I have a 5:30 committee meeting, I do manage to leave a little early for that. But I spent over two hours rearranging paperback books. We had a large number to add in, but not enough space where they were shelved. Some new shelves were added so it's a matter of adjusting them now and yet keeping them in alphabetical order. I'm getting good exercise however, bending up and down. Oh, my aching back. I get to my meeting only to find it's been postponed until next week. I hadn't checked my email in several hours.

Suddenly it's Friday. My male kitty, Nick (he and my female kitty, Nora, are 17 and a half) has been urinating in various and hidden places instead of the liter box.  Terrible for carpeting. I have an appointment with our vet who's been taking care of them for 9 years but is eighteen miles one way in Johnson City. Why don't you have Doctors and Vets that aren't so far away, Jan. Simple answer, when you find someone that you really like, it's just hard to change. So our appointment is at 2:30p and we leave at 2. Thank goodness no traffic problems. The attendant helps carry him inside and weighs him. He's lost about a pound since his visit back in the spring. That's not too good. Nick gets his yearly shots then they say they need to put him to sleep to draw blood. They do that and also give him some fluid IV because he's a bit dehydrated. No thyroid problems. Shall we do some testing for kidneys...we have enough blood for that but it will take about another 15-20 minutes and more charges. Go ahead, I say and start mentally adding up in my head what this will cost me. However, these cats are my fur babies. I've had them since they were 8 weeks old, they've seen me through a lot and I have to take care of them. Nick's back in his big carrier but complaining a bit and scrabbling in there. He's drunk from the anesthetic and acting goofy. Thank goodness, all the news was good. Nothing more than old age and perhaps a little infection that I get an antibiotic for and head home, after two hours. I did manage a quick stop for a couple of grocery items. When I got home I collapsed on the sofa and was happy I still had BBQ left over for my dinner.

On Saturday, I realized I didn't have to go anywhere for the next two days and I realized how tired I  was feeling. Thinking about my week was well, amazing. just full of adventure and glamour, like any other writer.  Don't forget, class I'm sixty-fifteen now and can only dance every other dance now. But at least I can still dance.

Until next time, don't forget to take out the garbage and all those other glamorous things we writers do. I'm off to watch a little TV, then to read a little more of Sara Paretsky's new paperback, Critical Mass before bedtime.

Things I've Learned at Sleuth Sayers

I had two or three ideas tumbling around in my head for my column, however, nothing seemed to jell. I decided to peruse every one's column for this past week and "Wah-la." I decided that "transformative use" information from John M. Floyd made good sense.

As I've mentioned before, the first novel I wrote in 1980-81, was a private eye novel. Since I was a voracious reader of that genre, I noticed that no one was writing books or stories with a female P.I. At the time, I didn't know Marcia Muller had published her first Sharon McCone novel, Edwin of the Iron Shoes," in 1977. She's been called the "Mother of the female Private Eye." Marcia modestly smiles and says the second McCone book wasn't published until five years later. Sometime she admits perhaps she's the "Godmother."

To be quite accurate, Maxine O'Callaghan wrote a short story, "A Change of Clients," which debuted, Delilah West, P.I., published in AHMM in 1974. Delilah didn't make it to a book, Death Is Forever until 1980. Sara Paretsky's V.I. Warshawski appeared in Indemnity Only in January, 1982. Immediately following was Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone in "A is For Alibi," in April, 1982. So I honestly didn't steal or copy their ideas because I had began writing my book in 1980. It was just that the idea of a female P.I. was definitely in the air. A friend handed me the Grafton book sometime later in '82, saying I know you're writing a female P.I. and think you might enjoy this book. A month or so after that I saw the Muller book and bought and read it.

The other idea I had when starting my book was a transformative use taken directly from Robert B. Parker of having my P.I., Jenny Gordon, work with a tough, smart, beautiful, black woman, C.J. Gunn. I wanted to show the interaction of the two women being close friends. He had Spencer and a black male friend who was tough and often helped. My naming my character came from the idea of Mickey Spillane having his character named Mike Hammer.  The Mickey and Mike were alliterative and I felt Jenny Gordon by Jan Grape might be memorable.

I published two short stories inspired by songs from singer/songwriters. The first was "Scarlett Fever," published in Deadly Allies inspired by a Kenny Rogers song. I didn't know him  personally but knew all of his songs. The second story was "The Confession" inspired by Thomas Michael Riley, a local Hill Country songwriter and published in Murder Here, Murder There.

The only short story that inspired me was one by Bill Pronzini. I don't remember the title of it, but there was a hit and run accident in it. My story, "The Man In The Red Flannel Suit" was published in Santa Clues, and has a significant hit and run scene.

Fran's definition of cozyesque is fantastic. My friend, Susan Rogers Cooper, writes what she calls, "grisly cozies." They are tougher than cozy but not hard-boiled. A few years ago when I owned the bookstore we called books either soft-boiled, medium-boiled, or hard-boiled.

When I was trying to get my Austin policewoman book sold, Ed Gorman of Tekno Books was packaging books for Five Star. At that time, the editor there was buying cozy mysteries only. Ed asked if I had a book for them to look at. I said, not really. Only thing I have is my policewoman book. He said, "Well, can you cozy it up a little?" I said, "I don't know, but I'll try." That wasn't working too well. As we all know, a bunch of police officers and most bad guys use rough language. I was trying to take out the bad language and checking for how much sex I could gloss over. I was about half-way through when Ed called back. "Our editor has moved up and she's now open to any genre of mystery. Thank goodness, I had a copy that certainly wasn't cozy and sent it to him. They liked it and Austin City Blue found a home.

None of my three novels are the Great American Novel, Eve Fisher, but I didn't try to write one either. I just wrote books that I liked and that I hoped others would like.

As far as researching, Dale Andrews, for the policewoman series, I actually took 10 weeks of classes of Citizen's Police Academy training in 1991. It was a program set up to help neighborhood watch folks learn all about the different aspects of the Austin Police Department. The accepted me because they knew I was a published writer of short stories. We had department heads or second in command come by and talk about SWAT, Fraud and Bunko Squad, Robbery Homicide, Firearms, Fingerprints, Ballistics, Medical Examiners, etc.

One night we all used the laser light, video training program called FATS. You watched a video on a huge screen and you held a laser gun. The scene would play out on the screen and you had to decide whether to "shoot or not shoot." It made you understand how few seconds an officer has to make a decision and to do the right thing. I did okay but I did "shoot" a bad guy in the behind. He was beating up a cop, then suddenly jumped up and ran away. My brain said to shoot and by the time I made the decision he had jumped up and turned to leave. We also did a "ride along" for a full shift with an officer in a squad car. That was fascinating and you soon realized every call could be a potential bad one. Dispatch said, "Check out a suspicious vehicle." At such and such address. We got there and it was a Winnebago vehicle, all dark. The officer didn't know if someone was inside or was gone. He wouldn't let me get out of the car. Turned out it was vacant.

For interesting searches nowadays I sometimes do online on my telephone, is for song lyrics. Not for
writing but for friends and for fun.

This concludes my article, and Leigh, you'll have to check this for commas. I'm sure I have too many. But I think I did okay with quote marks and such.

The Dissidents

by Louis A. Willis

From the introduction: Certainly one of the aspects that made putting this collection together so cool for us as editors and contributors was our respective  backgrounds in activism and community organizing. The lessons we took away from those experiences were not only about the need for a incisive power analysis and being aware that goals and objectives have to be constantly readjusted, but just how indomitable are the spirits of everyday working people, be they dealing with faceless slumlords, police abuse, rights on the shop floor or simply banding together to get a stop light erected at a street corner for their kids.

I’m reading my way through the many anthologies on my bookshelves, but not in any systematic way. I usually pick an anthology based on catchiness of the title. With Send My Love And A Molotov Cocktail: Stories of Crime, Love and Rebellion, I thought about how the versatile crime and mystery genre is often used to tackle social issues. These days I read fiction for pure enjoyment not profound insights on the human condition. So, as I began reading, I had to keep an open mind and not judge the stories based on the authors’ opinions toward the social issues. I chose three stories for this post based not on the issues but on the authors. 

I chose “Bizco’s Memories” by Paco Ignacio Taibo II because I need to read more stories by foreign authors, especially those south of the border. “Bizco’s Memories” is a  framed story about how political prisoners are treated more harshly than common prisoners in Mexico. As I read, I thought about the SleuthSayer posts on narrative voice. In framed stories there are, of course, two voices. In this one, the inside voice, Bizco, an unreliable narrator, tells a story to the outside voice of how the political prisoners exacted revenge on the common prisoners who had been harassing them. Bizco doesn’t end the story but merely stops talking. I sensed another voice or style, that of the translator and editor, Andrea Gibbons.

I chose “Poster Child” to see how social novelist (as I like to refer to her) Sara Paretsky handles the abortion issue in a short story. Antiabortion activist Arnold Culver is found dead on a park bench with antiabortion fliers stuffed in his mouth. Dr. Nina Adari is the prime suspect because she was seen arguing with the dead man earlier and because he had attacked her clinic several times. Rookie detective Liz Marchek and her partner, veteran Oliver Billings, are assigned to the case. When a picture of Liz entering the abortion clinic shows up in a batch of photographs Culver took, she is ordered off the case. Ignoring the order, she pursues and solves the case. My initial reaction to story: didn’t like it because Culver comes close to being an issue instead of a believable character. However, after thinking about it for a couple of hours, I decided Paretsky avoids preaching in her own voice about the rightness or wrongness of abortion but is, nevertheless, on the side of choice. To describe how she makes her point and avoids preaching would be a spoiler.

I chose Penny Mickelbury’s “Murder...Then and Now” to get a sense of what she is about before reading her novels, which I have on my shelf among the African American writers of crime and mystery fiction. In a town in the northeast, the KKK plans to march down the main street and burn an effigy of Black Power. To express their anger, five Black students from the unnamed university plan to throw Molotov cocktails on the roof of the police station where the KKK meet. In the “Then” section, before the students can carry out their plan, two of the them are murdered and a third is charged. In the “Now” section, forty years later, a fourth student is murdered. To describe the motive and method of the murders would be a spoiler. A good story that makes its point without hitting you over the head: beware of betrayal.

I commend the authors for avoiding forcing their characters to spout their creators’ opinions on the issues.