MYSTERY REVIEW

DEATH OF A LESSER MAN
by Thomas Rendell Curran
Boulder Publications

It's been a couple of years since Inspector Eric's Stride's last outing in The Rossiter File, and his long-awaited return was well worth waiting for. That same sense of place, St. John's, Newfoundland, just after World War II but still prior to joining Confederation, is here. Stride is the justice-seeking cop we know, driving his sporty MG around town, his married lover still in the picture, a thorough, meticulous guy who goes the extra distance to get the job done.

In this, the third Stride novel, the body of a veteran of the Great War is found late one night in the park, close to Stride's residence. The circumstances are puzzling -- Stride himself heard two shots but three bullets are found in the body during the autopsy. And, given the forensic evidence (such as they were at the time), did Harrison Rose, the victim, know his killer?

Stride follows the trail to the government offices, that's Her Majesty's representatives in the pre-Confederation Newfoundland. And from there, to Rose's business affiliations and his former comrades in arms during the war. The details of the various battles and the contributions of the Newfoundland Regiment add texture to the novel. There's much secrecy and apparently lots of motives abound. And to add to all the confusion, Stride also has to contend with upheaval in his personal life plus the arrival of the deceased's daughter.

The ending is a bittersweet one, justice is tempered with compassion, and old secrets are viewed and laid to rest.

Curran has a wonderful writing style, at once descriptive and sparse. If labels are needed in this genre, then Death of a Lesser Man would be a Literary Mystery. The pacing, the suspense, the puzzle are present...the writing, engaging. Readers who enjoy history along with their police procedural will not be disappointed.

If you want to start back at the beginning, the first Eric Stride novel is Undertow.

The Ottawa launch for Death of a Lesser Man is being held at Collected Works Book Store, 1242 Wellington St., on Wed., May 18th at 7 p.m. All are welcome!

MYSTERY REVIEW

SHE DEMONS
by Donald J. Hauka
Dundurn Press

The incomparable Mister Jinnah is at it again. In She Demons, the second book in this imaginative series, ace crime reporter Hakeem Jinnah is pit against a cult--the Millenial Magic or MiMis -- and even worse, the Yaksha, a drug running killer organization from the U.S.

The first body is that of a cult "prophet", Thad whose be-headed body (albeit, the head is resting in place complete with signs carved on the cheeks) signal that sinister things are taking place in Vancouver. This is not news to Jinnah, who on the continual search for a page one story, is ready to tangle again with cult leader Lionel Simons, a shock-rocker star to whom Jinnah once had to print an apology, something he still smarts about.

The carving signals the first sign of the Yaksha across the border. But no one believes Jinnah. Not even his friend, police Sergeant Craig Graham whose career is threatened by this murder. He's out to do damage control, enlisting Jinnah.

Jinnah teams up with for Miss Wreck Beach beauty Jassy Singh, another person with reason to hate Jinnah for past stories. But they share a common goal -- to rescue another cult member, Andy Gill from deep within the clutches of the MiMis. It doesn't help that Andy is the son of an acquaintance and Jinnah has promised to find him.

Things get very dicey when Jinnah's own son, Saleem, gets cult-struck and starts attending raves and "meetings" at the drop-in centre. Jinnah's wife is non too pleased with him for trying to use Saleem for some recon on these outings.

It's all getting to be too much for the brash-mouthed, wise-cracking Jinnah and he truly believes it's the end when he's captured and ear-marked to be part of a mass cult murder.

This fast-moving plot takes the reader on a tour of Vancouver, from it's grungy under-belly to the classy West Vancouver mansions, with Jinnah in his Gucci loafers and his van, known as the "satellite-guided Love Machine". There's grit and violence along with humourous dialogue and memorable characters.

The first Jinnah, Mister Jinnah, was adapted for television, followed by another television adaption a couple of years later. No doubt, She Demons will soon be on the tube, too.


Linda Wiken

WICKED WEDNESDAY

Music to write by.

I have to have music on all day. I awaken to the radio playing classical music, switch over to CBC Radio One for the local morning show until I start working, and then it's back to music. Fortunately, CBC Radio Two obliges me with 5 1/2 hours more of classical music. Then I usually switch to CDs.

However, when I'm deep into writing, I like something more in keeping with what's happening in my mind. I went through a Baroque period, which lasted quite a long time actually. Now days, since my mysteries are set in Alabama, I've made another switch.

I started by playing, over and over, the soundtrack from The Big Easy. Wrong state but it got me thinking southern, especially on cold northern winter days. I also found Quincy Jones to be a big help.

With this second book, I'm more into Aaron Copland. Today, I have Appalachian Spring in the background and then I'll move on to Rodeo.

Music moves me. It always has. It deeply affects my mood and is great for elevating it when I'm feeling down, consoling me in time of pain or grief, calming me before bedtime after a hyper evening, as well as hugging me in a cherished memory.

It can also be inspiring. I had no idea earlier this morning what I'd write for this blog, until Copland came on. Aha! A blog about music and its many powers. As such, it's one of the many elements in my writing. Along with the research, the plot, the characters, the setting, the dialogue...there's music.

Is it a part of your writing or do you prefer silence?


Linda Wiken/Erika Chase
Book Club Mysteries coming April 2012, from Berkley Prime Crime
Murder By the Book

LADIES' KILLING THURSDAYS

Freedom Road

Spring is coming (I’m assured), the days are getting longer, and the usual frenetic pace of life is about to go into overdrive. This winter, everything seems to have multiplied. I started the winter with one sedate, elderly dog, then acquired a puppy, and have been playing catch-me-if-you-can ever since. Last year at this time, I had one series, and one book to worry about. Now I have three. Three different types of books, three different areas of research, two different publishers. Launches and readings and tours… Oh my.

Over the next three months, I will be flying to Albuquerque and Santa Fe, flying to Halifax and back, then out to Vancouver and Victoria, and in between, making at least two road trips to Toronto. At least on those, I get to take the dogs. And this is all before the planned six-week road trip to the Atlantic provinces and Newfoundland to research Project #3. On this trip too, I get to take the dogs. I will be traveling with my sister, who is co-authoring Project #3 and who has a 95-pound golden retriever that is also coming along. My puppy loves him, a good thing (perhaps) since they will be sharing the backseat together, along with my sedate, elderly dog who would rather be anywhere else.

Being on a tight budget, since no one ever said this writing gig was lucrative, we are taking a tent. We are hoping to find cabins and motels willing to take three dogs which are all well over the preferred 25-lb limit, but these may be thin on the ground. They call Newfoundland “The Rock”. How hard can the ground be? As a Plan C, my sister and I hope the back of our rented van can sleep three dogs and two middle-aged women who may have lost considerable weight by the middle of this trip.

Along the way, while researching Project #3, I hope to find some opportunities to promote my two recently released books, BEAUTIFUL LIE THE DEAD and THE FALL GUY. That should appease the taxman. With any luck, I’ll have time at least to think about the sequels to both those books. One being the next Inspector Green novel, which at the moment is little more than a title and a twinkle in my eye, and the second being the next Cedric O’Toole Rapid Reads novella from Orca. Will I get a spare moment, do you think?

Meanwhile, people from my former, hectic, full-time professional life keep asking me, with a touch of envy, how much I’m enjoying retirement. Uhuh. That would be when I’m sitting in a rocking chair on the porch knitting mittens for my grandchildren?

To quote the non-geezer generation… As if.


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, which explores love in all its complications, is hot off the press.

MAYHEM ON MONDAY

Maybe there should be a forty-eight hour day!

There’s a lot of responsibility to writing a book. For one thing, you have to take care of all those characters. That’s right. You think it’s easy? Never mind, keeping them from being killed, you also have to make sure they eat and, trust me, most amateur sleuths are light on kitchen skills and never seem to keep to a schedule. They can miss meals for days.

You may even have wake them up in the middle of the night to go skulking after clues and you should encourage them to upgrade their skills (firing range, computer hacking, and running, always with the running). Their dogs have to be fed and walked. Who do you think remembers that? And if the dogs don’t get out often enough, you will get mail. Believe me.

It’s like being a mom to a gang of kids who will never become adults. You’re always going to be getting notes from their teachers.

Worse, you have to meddle in their love lives. Can’t have a mystery character be too happy. Or too lonely. Too anything really.

But one of the most time-consuming tasks is making sure they’re dressed properly. Remember Kinsey Milhone’s all-purpose black dress? Most people do. Readers notice these things.

My point is that, aside from the time it takes to keep your own wardrobe and closet in order and make sure you don’t show up at a business meeting in cargo shorts, now you have all these other people to worry about. I have to make sure Alvin Ferguson’s nine visible earrings are shiny enough to twinkle in the light. Mrs. Parnell still hangs on to her CWAC uniform. It’s hanging in her closet. That’s my responsibility too. As for Camilla MacPhee, she’s impossible. Couldn’t care less about clothes. I leave managing her outfits to her three perfectly groomed sisters.

But I do have to replace Fiona Silk’s one good outfit when it gets ruined by some villain in each book. I still mourn the loss of that periwinkle suede skirt and matching blouse. Then there’s Charlotte Adams, that little fashion plate. If it wasn’t for InStyle magazine (now a tax-deduction), I wouldn’t have a hope of having her look her spiffy best (with just the right shoes) as she gets chased on the I-90 or tossed into a dumpster. A lot of those outfits have to be discarded after a book! They’re ruined.

Her friend Jack Reilly is easier, except for bike racing gear from time to time, he’s always with the Hawaiian shirts and the unsuitable cargo shorts no matter what the weather. Even so, the patterns on the Hawaiian shirts have to vary. Jack may be in a rut, but he does change his clothes. Can’t have potential love interest being too grubby you know.

All to say, when I started out in this business, I had no idea there’d be all this work keeping other people dressed. Maybe that’s why I’m behind on my own laundry. There’s not enough time in the day.

What about you? How do you like a sleuth to be dressed? Do you care about that sort of detail as a reader or as a writer?



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 (April 5, 2011), is brimming with names, no two the same.

MAYHEM ON MONDAY

Excuse me, but is that a ….?!?

While reaching for a ream of printer paper today, I dislodged a pair of neon yellow water pistols that had been nesting happily in that drawer. They were souvenirs of a conference. Of course, I should have given them to children to enjoy on a summer day, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that because, well, I liked them too much to part with them. At that moment it crossed my mind that we are not like other people. By that I mean mystery writers develop a few quirks on the way and are not likely to ditch those quirks in a hurry.

A glance around my office confirmed this. For one thing there was the skull candle sitting on top of the small bookcase. For another, that bookcase was shaped like a coffin and held the Ladies Killing Circle collection. The bookcase coffin was built by Susan Gates’s father for the launch of Going Out with a Bang. And how about that boa? Hmmm?

The skull candle was a good match for the skull flask that adorns the shelf by my desk. I’m quite attached to that flask and I know it will come in handy someday if I’m making a quick getaway and need a snootful of something to help with the extraction of, say, a stray bullet. We like to be prepared. For whatever.

I do remember my grandson asking me why I had a pair of handcuffs on my desk. I had to weigh the answer carefully and also to move those handcuffs as the key hadn’t been seen for a while.

Not so unusual really. Doesn’t every office have a roll of crime scene tape and a skeleton yo-yo? No? Well, what about a Derringer clock then?

These are the trappings of my working life. They’re all connected in some way with crime or death, but bringing a light-hearted touch. None of us really find death amusing or crime and criminals too cute for words, but somehow these small totems remind us that, whatever else, death is fascinating and solving murder mysteries remains a valid and intriguing pastime for reader and author.

During the long and rocky road to publication, these totems kept me going, potent symbols of the genre I wanted to write in. Since then, they also recall memories of book launches, conferences, and special events with readers and writers and friends from the mystery community. My friend Audrey Jessup’s dramatic black hat will always have a place of pride on top of my shelf.

Despite the whimsical ghoulishness of much of my collection, it reminds me of the crime writing community and the kind, collegial and (okay, I’ll admit it) slightly off-centre characters who fill the world with fabulous stories.

It’s a strange but wonderful club we belong to, and one I wouldn’t leave for the world. Oh, is that my fedora? The one I wore to the Festive Felons launch with Barb Fradkin years ago? Excellent. I was wondering where that was hiding.

So what small or large totems keep you writing or energized? Do they bring back any special memories?


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 (April 5, 2011), is brimming with names, no two the same.

WICKED WEDNESDAYS

An Orderly Mind?

I never win anything. But the call had come. Salvation for my closet chaos was at hand.

My Closet Confidential reader’s prize basket was delivered by Charlotte Adam’s creator herself --- the indefatigable Mary Jane Maffini. As a lucky, ‘local’ fan, the visit included MJ’s canine pals Daisy and Lily ― bundled up in their matching pink puffy parkas against the bitterly cold, Ottawa day.

In preparation, I’d studied up on the handy tips headlining each chapter. I was psyched. We’d taken our tea and cookies and I was assessing where to put each of these professional organizer’s tools to use in my small-space flat.

"You seem like a woman with an orderly mind," my guest said.

Mary Jane’s statement floored me. How’s a pack rat to reply?

If I had such an organized mind, why had I not yet written my novel? The one I’d
researched, nurtured and brought to life in my brain, lo these many years. Strong evidence to the contrary for Ms. Maffini’s intended compliment, wouldn’t you say?

MJ had just been in my kitchen while I made our tea, hadn’t she? Seen the miscellanea taking up real estate on the counters? Surely her never-misses-a-detail, snapping eyes had spied the milk crate in the living room --- the one holding the dog’s brushes, my address book, an atlas and the dictionary that have no permanent resting place near my recliner.

I mumbled something. Maybe it was, "Well, I do have an MBA." or "I was born with a photographic memory." I stifled, "which I outgrew about thirty years ago."

"What do you think of my new cushions? Home Sense specials," I brag. "Don’t you think my empty walls need some real art?"

I employed --- successfully I hoped --- these social tricks of misdirection and illusion to divert my charming guest’s sharp observations away from the room’s trouble spots and onto other topics of conversation.

Eventually our time together wound down. I offered MJ the use of my 50’s retro loo before my visitors ventured back out into the biting wind. Meanwhile, I hustled my dog and our canine company out into the back yard for their quickie constitutional. Kind hostess? Not in the least.

This was all part of my nefarious plan: to prevent Mary Jane from seeing the jumble of hats, gloves, boots and doggie towels by the back door; or the clothes hanging from the bedroom and closet doors jambs; or attempting to open the closed door to the disaster room (part office/part library/part laundry room). Eeeekkk! Talk about dark, shameful secrets.

An orderly mind? All around me ― evidence to the contrary devoured every cranny!
Crime writers need order, right? Names, places, time, scenes and suspects must be kept straight. The social injustice righted.

But let’s be honest. How would you feel if your favourite author got all her facts straight and failed to provide you with the thrill of the chase, the workings of the criminal mind, a revolving slate of suspects and a challenging puzzle? Would you close the back cover with a sense of satisfaction for time well spent ― or with a bored yawn?

A crime writer needs to be able to dissemble, misdirect, create illusions and plot detours. They need to know where and how to bury the evidence so the reader races ahead, wondering, positing. She needs to know when to shut the door on a line of inquiry and when to reveal the story’s deep, shameful secrets.

These skills I call nefarious thinking ― an ability to think in circles and undulating waves, to weave scenes and layer detail, the willingness to manipulate the readers’ senses so they experience a thrilling outcome.

Shortly after my prize arrived, I managed to fit in a half-hour to tackle my linen closet jumble. In the light of day, I tossed stained towels and frayed facecloths. Only the sheets and pillowcases deployed in the past year are allowed back into the closet. Beautiful stacks of folded linens were corralled ― by size and function ― within sturdy, wooden-handled sea grass baskets and returned to their shelves for easy access.

Weeks passed. Yesterday I opened the linen closet to replace a clean towel. Somehow I’d completely forgotten my organizational stint. I experienced disproportionate feelings of contentment and satisfaction at the sight of my neat, tidy and ordered closet. Its transformation was both thrilling and satisfying. Just the way you feel at the end of a great novel when the bad guy is behind bars and justice restored.
I yearn to experience the same satisfaction and thrills when my novel is written, sold, published and in my hand.

It can happen. For I now realize I have the right crime writer’s tools lurking within the four walls of my home --- an orderly mind and nefarious thinking.

Now, wish me discipline.


Susan C. Gates is a reformed banker and a recovering policy analyst living in Ottawa. Her works of short crime fiction are published in recent editions of the Ladies’ Killing Circle anthologies. A member of Capital Crime Writers since 2000, Susan has served on its executive. Her first novel, Paper Daughter, has gestated longer than an elephant’s embryo. Well overdue, its delivery promises to be an arduous one.

MAYHEM ON MONDAY

Perils of procrastination: Part 2

Linda’s latest blog struck a cord with me. Procrastination: it has to be the greatest enemy of the productive writer. Not only that the writing doesn’t get done, but it hangs over your head when you are being distracted by, well, it doesn’t matter what. Anything. I would like to add … wait is that a cardinal in the tree outside my window? Gorgeous. I’ll be back!

Where were we? Oh yes. Procrastination. My grandmother used to say, “Never do today what can be put off until tomorrow.” She really did. I don’t think she intended me to take her seriously, but it happened. I’ve spent my life dodging deadlines and dreaming of writing.

The problem with writing and actually selling books is that when the dream come true it also comes with a deadline. Dead. Line. That would be two (!) four-letter words sent to torment.

Thirteen books and two dozen short stories and nothing’s changed. The massive task of writing a book is so overwhelming that it sends many of us to the sofa to watch endless reruns of CSI. Would you like blowflies with that order, sir?

Even if you’re not procrastinating, the task can get hijacked by the gazillion business and promotion tasks (yes, Miss Facebook and Mr. Twitter, I’m talking about you). What about you? Are you procrastinating about promo if you’re writing or putting off writing if you’re scribbling updates for your shamefully outdated Webpage? You claim you would have done that earlier, except you were scrambling to get your mailing list up to date and your newsletter ready. But wait, your blogs are due! All at once? Eeep.


What do you mean you need to have a bubble bath?

There is a tiny glimmer of hope for the worst of us. It came in a blog post from my friend Elizabeth Spann Craig (also Riley Adams) a while back and stuck with me. She’s a busy writer, bloggeuse, and mom with at least two mystery series going. Who knows what else is up her sleeve? In an interview Elizabeth revealed her secret of seizing writing time in fifteen-minute (and even smaller!) segments wherever she finds it: in the car at stoplights, in coffee shops on the way to errands, in waiting rooms and at kids’ sporting events. In the same interview, Elizabeth said that for pleasure and escape, she was in the middle of In the Shadow of the Glacier, by our own Vicki Delany. You can check out Elizabeth’s writing tips on http://mysterywritingismurder.blogspot.com/

This fifteen minute idea stuck with me. It does the trick. I think it works because writing under those circumstances seems like time stolen from duties. It’s a bit like when we first got started, when writing was a stolen pleasure rather than a requirement. Me? I’m all for going back there, at least in my attitude.

How about you? Do you write at stoplights? In the shower? While being arraigned for writing at stoplights? Any tips to share? We need ‘em!


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 (April 5, 2011), is brimming with names, no two the same.

TUESDAY BRINGS TROUBLE

It's all research!

As my writing group delights in saying, "It's all research". You're walking along the slush-covered street and a bus splashes you -- IAR. You get lost on a long drive and find yourself along some unfamiliar, unusual country road -- IAR. You get thrown in jail (although I hasten to state, none of us have) -- IAR.

So, that's the attitude I took the other morning when I leapt out of bed after checking the alarm clock, without glasses. I quietly donned by walking outfit, went into the kitchen for a glass of water, and noted that the clock on the stove hammered home the point that it was an hour earlier than I'd thought. No wonder it was so dark. Oh well, since I was all ready to hit the streets of Fort Myers, just keep going.

I love being out early in the morning when there are few others foolish enough to greet the dawn. Mainly dog walkers and they're a friendly bunch, often to the point of muddy paw prints on my black jogging pants. But that's what washers are for. I didn't meet any of that morning group though. Too early. Just one older gent doing a fast walk along the road, a tiny red light flashing from where it hung from his neck on a chain. We said 'Hi' as we'd done every morning and then I thought, why is he out so early? For the next few blocks I gave him all sorts of drama happening in his personal life. He'd had a late night argument with his wife and was still steaming. He would sometimes awaken in a sweat from a nightmare dealing with his past. He was searching for someplace to hide the body. My point -- IAR.

I decided to cut through a portion of the golf course, a part of my brain remembering tales (possibly tall ones) we'd heard the first time visiting Florida -- stories of the gullies and ponds saturating the course, that had to be culled for alligators. They'd even been spotted climbing the banks. Now, the only gator I've seen is from an airboat in the Everglades, but of course, I was certain that noise in the underbrush was a hungry alligator about to pounce. I never did find out what it was as I gamely continued my walk.

Then I thought, HDSF, another of our invaluable sayings. How Does She Feel? How did I feel at the point of dread -- could I describe it...could I remember it to add to my novel? IAR.

By the time our home base came into view, the Floridian sky glowed a muted pink. Breathtaking when viewed as the backdrop to a variety of palm trees. Remember the beauty, remember the feeling of awe -- IAR!

Many mornings when my walk is ended, I will have worked though a sticky plot point and/or moved my story ahead, at least in my mind. No such luck today. But I do find there's nothing like an early morning walk to stimulate the imagination.

What gets your brain in over-drive?


Linda Wiken/Erika Chase

MAYHEM ON MONDAY

What’s in a name? Baby, you have no idea! This is one of the pivotal decisions for me in setting up a series or a new book. Even a short story or a necessary fib. Oh, if only if it was easy. I swear that it took less time to settle on names for living breathing children than to find the right moniker for a character. Doesn’t matter if it’s the protagonist, the sidekick, the villain or an occasional walk-on part, names are a challenge. Seriously, even dogs and cats need the right name (Mrs. Parnell’s Calico Cat is the exception to this rule). Truffle and Sweet Marie, Charlotte Adams’ miniature dachshunds are named for a rich chocolatey treat and a Canadian chocolate bar. Appropriate.

Having said that, I collect names. I am scouring the news, the papers and idle conversations for the right sounding name to add to the list. If I’m staring at you, perhaps I’m thinking of stealing your middle name. Stranger things have happened.

Practically, though, my favourite tool is the all important baby name book. The thing is that the names have to fit the character’s age, gender, and temperament. There aren’t many seniors called Britannee or Taylor. The baby name book will have the most popular names for 1925, 1950, 1975 and so on. A good book has people of all ages and the right choice makes a big difference. Sure, I know that many people also get this information online, but I still like to feel the pages. No wonder I have a name from the distant past, that is now synonymous with a popular and illegal herbal ‘relaxant’.

But back to topic. Besides the baby book, I troll through the phone book, the obituaries and Google. Google’s great for answering the questions: Does a person with this name exist? Is she a lawyer/doctor/cop/victim like the character in my book? Will he or she sue me?

Then, the names have to work together with each other. Is there anything worse than having every character’s name start with A or E? Say: Alan aimed the gun at Aileen who took a dive behind Aaron nearly decapitating Alison who collapsed leaving Ashley to take the bullet. I mean really. Please don’t make it hard for people. Or what about those books where everyone’s name is two syllables, beginning and ending with a consonant? It won’t take long before the reader is flipping back to see which police officer is speaking now. Or the reader may opt to simply move to a book where the characters are easy to tell apart. Who can blame our readers for this?

In an ideal world, the character names will suit the personality, often in a comic way. Donald Westlake used to have a large, lumpy criminal type known only as Tiny.

The character names should be appropriate for the setting too. Using LA? Better have a Sanchez drop in now and then. Paris? Cherchez Pierre. Fiona Silk mousing around West Quebec meets Irish and French in equal measure. Benedicts are tripping over Marc-Andrés. In my Charlotte Adams stories, I favour Dutch and Irish names because there are lots of people with those names in that part of upstate New York. I do think all those ‘Vans’ add a touch of class. I have to watch myself because it’s easy to overdo it.

I keep a grid of first, middle and last names for all characters in each book. I toss in their birthdays just for good measure. I try not to use the same letter of the alphabet for two characters names (first or last) in any book and to vary the length of the names and the ethnic groups too. I grew up in a community where half the phone book read MacDonald, and another quarter McDonald. It was hard to tell people apart without extra information. I was forced in Little Boy Blues to call someone Donald Donnie MacDonald, to distinguish him from all the other Donald MacDonalds. Of course, in real life that wouldn’t be enough.

I work hard on this name task and people tell me that they find it easy to keep the characters straight in my books (and that is not just because I bought them a drink).

The protagonist is the most important, of course: An Inspector Banks mystery. An Inspector Green mystery. An Inspector Gamache mystery. I am suffering from Inspector envy. Doesn’t that inspector thing give a bit of gravitas to a guy or gal?

It’s also good to be memorable and just a wee bit different. Lisbeth Salander, anyone?

Now, over to you!


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 (April 5, 2011), is brimming with names, no two the same.