MAYHEM ON MONDAYS

Home Sweet Homicide

Of course, I’m sick with jealousy about the mysterious French cathedrals and scenic Newfoundland shots that have been popping up in the blog lately. Wouldn’t I love to bump someone off in these fabulous and exotic locations. But for once, I have been staying home, with occasional jaunts to the cottage. I’ve been asking myself, how can I possibly manage to plot murder under these banal circumstances?

Then I realize home is Ottawa, Canada, surely a city with many places that people can be done in against a gorgeous and even patriotic backdrop: high escarpments, fast moving rivers that are foggy with jagged ice in winter, lonely bike paths, you name it.

And the cottage sits on a typical chunk of Canadian Shield: remote,rocky,surrounded by dark water one hundred feet deep in places. Who would hear you if you screamed or splashed? The fog often rolls in just before dawn. If I were you, I would not be out and about then, not even tonight when the moon is full.


One of the negatives of spending time at a cottage is that on those dark nights

with only the moon to light the inky lake and black looming trees, a person with a lively imagination might hear paddles sliding in and out of the water at three in the morning. A kayak? Canoe? But who would be out and about at that time?


The very Canadian sound of rifle fire in the distance doesn’t say ‘local target practice’ to me. No, it says, they’re coming for you (or for someone). In that way

of writers, I do tell myself to finish that last chapter before fate intervenes.


My point, and I do have one is that our country is gorgeous, not always easy to live or stay warm and dry in, and it definitely serves as a spectacular backdrop for the kind of drama we love to create.


As for you, what scares you in your favourite place?


Mary Jane Maffini rides herd on three (soon to be three and a half) mystery series and a couple of dozen short stories. Her thirteenth mystery novel, The Busy Woman’s Guide to Murder, which hit the bookshelves this spring, is brimming with names, no two the same.

CRIME ON MY MIND

Getting back to reality...

I'm through stashing bodies. It's been fun, alright, in a ghoulish kind of way, but also very enlightening. When you travel through a new city it's easy to be blown away by the awesome sights -- the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the incredible beauty of the cathedrals -- but that's only one level of the city.

It pays to look beyond and deeper. If you're playing tourist with a writer's eye to locations, you notice a different aspect of the place. The carved caverns on a hillside, the stillness of a turn in the river even with traffic zooming past only a few blocks away, the innate detail of a passageway beckoning the viewer into the unknown.

The mind takes flight, the ideas flow, and the city becomes a more complete entity.

Of course, there's also that urge to toss someone into that river or through the passageway...on paper, of course.

I doubt I'll ever set a novel in France. Well, certainly not my current series anyway. Ashton Corners, Alabama will never meet Lyon, France. However, the images are stashed in the brain and might surface in a short story or perhaps a flight of fancy for a protagonist in the future.

Time to get back to work and start in on book #3, which is due in 9 months. Yikes! I'll leave the travel and those inquiring thoughts until the next trip. Or, maybe not. It's to the Dominican Republic and I'll be there as the mother-of-the-groom. The two might not mix.

Or maybe they will.

What far away places are beckoning you?


Linda Wiken/Erika Chase
A Killer Read coming April, 2012
from Berkley Prime Crime

LADIES' KILLING THURSDAYS

Where yu to, me bye?

I’m a great proponent of travel. Not only does it provide constant novelty and excitement, but it broadens one’s perspective and increases one’s understanding of others. You can’t stare out over a canola field in Alberta, yellow and empty as far as the eye can see, or brace yourself against the swirls of Toronto’s Kensington Market, without getting at least a glimpse into what life is like for people there. My current trip to Canada’s Maritimes has been full of insights and serendipity.

Prince Edward Island is perhaps Canada’s best known island, chosen by the Royals on their recent visit as their only Maritime destination. This is thanks to L.M. Montgomery and her tales about a little red-headed orphan named Anne. PEIslanders are proud of their distinctly different way of life – gently rolling terrain, picturesque villages clustered around sandy coves, white houses with green roofs and window boxes, and a speed limit that puts your average mainlander to sleep.

But Newfoundland is truly a place apart. Whereas PEIslanders are as gentle and agreeable as their island, Newfoundlanders are rugged, independent, feisty, and right proud of it. After five hundred years of isolation and hardship, durability and fight are bred into their bones. Even the little trees stick stubbornly up out of the clifftops, half their needles blown off by the wind but new tufts of fresh growth sprouting from their tops. Newfoundland is ragged bluffs, stony ground and jumbled villages clinging to the edges of tiny coves. Roads are narrow, bumpy and full of twists and hills as they try to follow the torturous outline of the coast. The speed limits are set at 80 to 100 km./ hour, a suicidal notion for your average mainlander which Newfoundlanders manage it with ease.

For centuries, Newfoundlanders lived by and off the sea. Each village had a unique origin and history, and travel between them was limited to boat. Goods, services and mail were delivered by boat too, subject to the vagaries of ice, storm and tide. Accents, words and customs emerged unique to each area. It’s impossible to

describe a Newfoundland accent without reference to the region. In the farthest outports of the east coast, a local could speak to me for five minutes without my recognizing a single word. In St. John’s, the sin capital of The Rock, hints of an accent remain only in the occasional flattened vowel or quirky preposition.

Getting the accent and words right will be a challenge for any writer but that’s another trait of Newfoundland. Nothing comes easy on this island and by god, why should it be easy for anyone else? But what a sense of triumph at the end of the road.


Barbara Fradkin is a child psychologist with a fascination for how we turn bad. In addition to her darkly haunting short stories in the Ladies Killing Circle anthologies, she writes the gritty, Ottawa-based Inspector Green novels which have
won back to back Arthur Ellis Awards for Best Novel from Crime Writers of Canada. The eighth in the series, Beautiful Lie the Dead, explores love in all its complications. And, her new Rapid Read from Orca, The Fall Guy, was launched in May.

WICKED WEDNESDAYS

The hunt continues!

Continuing on yesterday's theme, I mentioned all the cathedrals we sang in, but we did the tourist thing through many more. Majestic is the only word to describe them. While we do have wonderful catherdals in Canada -- Notre Dame Basilica in Montreal comes first to mind -- there's something about the knowledge that these buildings in France are centuries old that makes it such an awesome experience.

It's easy to get drawn in by the ghosts past. Especially if some classical music is

being played or the organist is practicing. Gazing at the many tableaux in a cathedral, the echoes of centuries can be heard. The artwork is amazing. The frescos that adorn the walls, the carved dark woodwork, the massive columns of walls and of course, the numerous stained glass windows and domes that leave one speechless.

A cathedral we wandered through in Nancy was a mass of stained glass windows supported by thin columns of stonework. An amazing structural feat.

Another aspect the cathedrals have in common is the darkness, especially when wandering around the apse, or peering into one of the many recesses along the sides. What better place to hide a body? Or perhaps displayed in the busyness of a tableaux. And if no one's looking, you might be able to wander through a dark doorway, climb narrow stone steps, and find all shapes and sizes of rooms. One wonders if the caretaker checks each of these areas each night.

Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris is NOT an ideal site to stash a body. The long

line-up to enter and walk through is watched by keen eyes. Our choir when it sang there, was kept waiting at a side locked gate until we were all accounted for -- all 70 of us. We were then swiftly ushered inside the fenced outdoors and encouraged to swiftly move into a side entrance. When we'd all reached the change rooms, we were given a strict number of minutes to get ready, all were accounted for, then guided once again up the stone stairs to the main cathedral area. When the concert was over, all was done again in reverse. No side excursions were allowed, everyone had to be ready to exit at the same time and out we went.

I've never encountered that before but then again, this is Notre Dame! Besides, there were so many churches and cathedrals around, one would not be at a loss. That is, unless you got caught up in all the beauty of the place...and got caught.

Have you encountered any unusual spots in your travels that would be ideal for the deed?


Linda Wiken/Erika Chase
A Killer Read coming April, 2012
from Berkley Prime Crime

TUESDAY BRINGS TROUBLE

Do travel & murder mix?

But of course! Not only do they mix, they're hard to separate when you're a mystery writer on holidays. Especially if those you're travelling with know of your penchant for viewing new sites with a mind to murder. They keep asking, "Well, did you find the perfect spot to hide the body?" Often the answer is, yes.

That in a snapshot, is my two week singfest through France. As part of the International Choir, which is our name when the four sister choirs (mine is the

Ottawa Classical Choir), 3 from Quebec, are on tour. This year's amazing trip began with an invitation to sing at the anniversary celebrations for the 800 year old Cathedral in Reims. Our repertoire was two masses by Theodore Dubois, a 19th century French composer and a former organist at that church. These two masses have not been heard before. It's a wonderful plot for a mystery -- the scores being discovered by the grandson and his connection to our director.

The Cathedral in all it's ancient splendor was packed. Our performance earned a standing ovation, rare we're told. That was our final concert of the tour but we'd received much the same reception in each of the other cities: Montpellier, Metz and Paris. Even at the famed Notre Dame Cathedral!

But I digress. Each of our stops, including two days in Lyon, allowed for many

hours of sightseeing. In steamy hot weather we walked for hours, exploring parts of the old cities (each of these thoroughly modern cities has an old section), drinking in the ambience, enjoying an espresso at a sidewalk cafe, searching for memorable items to bring home. And of course, body dumps.

Waterways are always a great spot to hide a body. And with any luck, decomposition can make it more difficult to ascertain a time of death. With two rivers running through the city, the Rhone & the Saone,there are numerous hidden opportunities. My favourite was at a less active portion of the Saone, with a massive rebuilding project taking over several city blocks on one side and a forested hillside on the other. Few houses across the way but several openings from the traboules, or secret underground passageways where silk, once the largest export of the city, was transported to waiting vessels. These routes were also used by the resistance during World War II. Although many are now populated by tourists, some of those less traversed would be a writer's delight.

And then there are the numerous wonderfully decorated river barges that are now homes on the water. With many gaps between the boats, a little luck, and a body might become entangled and submerged for a useful amount of time.

I'm afraid I'll be submitting you to a travelogue this week. Hope you'll enjoy these marvellous locations and maybe next time you're travelling, a few ideas will pop into mind. After all, a mystery writer's mind is never on vacation. But oh, what a glorious way to do research!

Have you already spotted some ideal locations to hide bodies at your holiday spots?


Linda Wiken/Erika Chase
A Killer Read coming April, 2012
from Berkley Prime Crime

MAYHEM ON MONDAYS

Where do I get my what?

Oh. Ideas. Yes. Well, funny you should ask, especially today as I contemplate the terrifying blank screen on this and several other projects. Authors get asked that all the time. I once heard the amazing and prolific Harlan Ellison say that he got his ideas in Schenectady. Picked them up in six packs. If only.

But seriously, getting ideas is no kind of problem. Ideas are everywhere, popping out of the newspaper headlines or even ads, waving at you from the street, peering out from the racks in stores, filtering out of your dreams. I have thousands of ideas. Seems like every casual conversation, obituary, crime report, wedding announcement, lost cat poster and community bazaar announcement contains the seeds of the best new book ever. Sometimes, when you are minding your own business, someone will approach you with their very own terrific idea, a winner, which they are willing to share and all you have to do is write up the book.

Too bad, ideas are the easy part. That’s right.

The tricky bit is turning that brilliant idea into something that resembles a completed story. Here’s the thing: it’s not just a matter of typing. Those stories that authors crank out, they didn’t actually happen. The story didn’t pre-exist; the characters didn’t do what transpired in the tale; and none of the dialogue was ever uttered. If the sun shone, the author decided it would shine and described what that looked like (yellowish) and felt like (hot). If it rained, the author decided how it would sound slashing against the window. You see, a novel doesn’t simply assemble itself neatly in the author’s brain and then flow out down the arms and out through the fingers to the keyboard after which it is just a short hop to the bestseller list. Hard to believe, but trust me, there’s more to it. There’s all the tossing and turning at night, the pacing, the napping in the afternoons, the talking out loud when no one is there, not to mention the dozens of distracting household projects.

Are your spices in alphabetical order? If not, you may not be really writing a book.

Then there are dogs to be cuddled, walks to be walked, not to mention long chats with friends, visits to blogs (sad but true) and endless wanderings through Facebook and other social labyrinths.

Ideas? You can keep them. Me? I’m working on the eighty thousand words that turn my latest nifty idea into a story worth reading for the next Camilla MacPhee book. But first, I think my bookshelves would look better if the volumes were sorted by colour. I’ll be back shortly. Save my place.


Mary Jane Maffini rides herd on three (soon to be three and a half) mystery series and a couple of dozen short stories. Her thirteenth mystery novel, The Busy Woman’s Guide to Murder, which hit the bookshelves this spring, is brimming with names, no two the same.

LADIES' KILLING THURSDAYS

When you read this I will have climbed into a zodiac and left the shore at

Kugluktok (once called Coppermine) in Nunavut to board the Clipper Adventurer for a 17 day cruise out of the Northwest Passage, north along the coast of Ellesmere island to Grise Fiord, our most northerly civilian community, across Davis Strait and Baffin sea and down the coast of Greenland stopping in at several sites. I love the Arctic and am lucky enough to be able to afford to be making my third visit. Will I set a mystery here? Given my past record it seems unlikely and I don’t know why.

Three years ago I visited Spitzbergen, one of the most northern communities in the world, a place where every individual who leaves the townsite of Longyearben is legally obliged to carry a rifle to protect herself from polar bears. In the hotel a sign instructs everyone to park their rifles in the hotel safe as there is no danger of bears within the building. I wondered if this focus on the danger of bears might be an exaggeration until recently when a bear attacked a number of young men from the UK and killed one of them. I did attempt a short story about this wonderful island and to do it I did internet research and discovered all kinds of interesting things that made me want to return but not necessarily to write any more about it.

This summer the regular contributors to this blog are travelling to far flung parts of Canada and abroad. The question - will these trips influence their writing?

It’s a good question. I think everything in your life contributes in one way or another to your writing. You may not refer directly to what you’ve seen in an outport in Newfoundland, the food you’ve eaten in a French bistro, the chill of the sea you’ve felt swimming in the North Atlantic or the smell of a convivial pile of walrus snorting and socializing between dives for shellfish.

But you will internalize the experiences. If you’re an author like Vicki Delaney, Barbara Fradkin or Robin Harlick you will capture the essence of your trips in a book. In her short stories set in the Rideau Lakes Sue Pike reveals her detailed knowledge not only of the flora and fauna but also her love of the area. Early next year we’ll look forward to learning more about Alabama when we read the first in Linda Wiken’s trilogy.

Books must be set somewhere and the degree to which location influences the ambiance and plot development vary from writer to writer. Each author must decide how important location will be to the work. Whether or not I will ever set a short story or book in the Arctic remains a mystery. My question - does foreign travel stimulate you or do you prefer well known, non-exotic locations?






Joan Boswell is a member of the Ladies Killing Circle and co-edited four of their short story anthologies: Fit toDie, Bone Dance, Boomers Go Bad and Going Out With a Bang. Her three mysteries, Cut Off His Tale, Cut to the Quick and Cut and Run were published in 2005, 2006 and 2007. In 2000 she won the $10,000 Toronto Star’s short story contest. Joan lives in Toronto with three flat-coated retrievers.