Pandemic Reading

One thing I have done during this pandemic is read.

Here are some of the books that I have enjoyed:

Black Notice by Patricia Cornwell

Zero Day by David Baldacci

Not a Creature Was Stirring by Jane Haddam

The Judas Gate by Jack Higgins

Parable of the Sower by Octavia E. Butler

The Drop by Michael Connolly

The Heckler by Ed McBain

Buried in the Stacks by Allison Brooks 

Reread North From Rome by Helen MacInnes

Reread Thunder on the Right by Mary Stewart 

Robert B. Parker's The Devil Wins by Reed Farrel Coleman

Strawberry Tail

"Patty, Mike, let's go for a walk."

This was the summer when I was four years old and my little brother Mike was not quite three.We were playing upstairs in our Oklahoma farmhouse.

"I guess we better go downstairs," I said.

I liked playing upstairs with Mike but sometimes it got very hot there. So I was glad when Mother called and suggested that we take a walk.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" I asked, running down the stairs.

"It's such a lovely day I thought a walk along the road a ways or maybe walk in the fields if the bull isn't around."

I didn't like the bull and was afraid of him. "Will we see Strawberry Tail?"

My mother smiled. "We might see him."

I loved Strawberry Tail. Yes, I knew that the bull was Strawberry Tail's daddy but that didn't make me like him. I liked Strawberry Tail's mother, though. Once in a while I got to sit on an upside down bucket in our ugly old barn and try to milk her with my father nearby telling me what to do.

Mother took our hands and led us outside onto the porch that wrapped around the western and southern sides of our farmhouse. It was nice to come out and sit on the porch after the sun had gone down.

But it was early afternoon and just a little bit warm. Mother said it was a good time to go for a walk. Soon, she said, we would have to go early in the morning before the day got too hot.

Sometimes we went for a walk in the woods, picking blackberries but today we walked down the path to the road and walked westward toward the farm of our aunt and uncle. We didn't always walk as far as their farm but sometimes in that direction.

Weeds grew along the side of the dusty road with little white wildflowers peeping through. The air smelled fresh and sweet except when the odor of fresh cow patties drifted by. Cows were grazing in the fields on both sides of the road and I soon spied Strawberry Tail.

"Oh, Mommy, can I go pet him?" I asked.

"No, honey, can't you see his daddy over there?"

I looked to where Mommy was pointing and saw that mean old bull looking at us. I knew I didn't want to crawl under the barbed wire fence if he was anywhere near us.

We walked on a while and finally turned back. Little Mike couldn't keep up as well as Mommy and I could. That was why we seldom walked on to Auntie and Uncle's house.

That evening after our father came home from work, I saw our parents whispering in the living room. I crept behind the stairs and tried to listen.

"But you know how fond she is of that calf with the brown and white stripes on its tail, the one she calls Strawberry Tail," my mother whispered.

My father whispered something back but I couldn't understand what he said. The only thing I was sure of was that they were talking about Strawberry Tail and I wondered why they would talk about him.

Suddenly they stopped whispering and Mother called out, "Patty, come here."

I left my hiding place and walked into the living room.

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Honey, we have something to tell you.."

"What is it?"

"Daddy is going away for a few days. He's going to take most of the cattle to market."

"What is a market?" I asked.

My parents exchanged glances and then Mother said, "The cows are going to a new home. They're going to ride on the train."

"Are all the cows going?" I asked. "Is that mean old bull going?"

"No, honey, the bull stays and so will the milk cows."

"Oh," I said, rather relieved. "Then Strawberry Tail's mother will stay."

"Uh yes, honey, but Strawberry Tail will have to go." My parents looked at each other again with that serious look.

"No, no," I cried. "Strawberry Tail is my calf. He can't go. He can't leave his mommy."

"That's the way it is, honey, in the cow world," said my mother. "Sometimes when calves get to a certain age, they go to market."

"Yes," said my father sternly. "Calves grow up faster than little girls."

"And," said my mother, "they go to market where people buy them and take them to their homes."

"But that's silly," I said. "Why can't they stay here at their real home?"

"I'll see that they get a bigger home," said my father.

For the next several days, I pleaded and pleaded for Strawberry Tail to stay here with his mother. But on round-up day, I knew my father was going to take him.

Again I heard my parents whispering. But this time I could hear my father clearly.

"By the time I get back, she will have forgotten all about that calf," he said.

"I hope so," said my mother.

I wondered why they wanted me to forget Strawberry Tail.

Every day that my father was gone, I worried and worried about Strawberry Tail.  Mike and I would go upstairs and talk about the little calf. Mike didn't really understand but he knew I was sad. 

Finally, one afternoon my father arrived home from the market. I couldn't wait to ask him about Strawberry Tail. After Mother greeted him at the door, she whispered something to him and then he called out to me.

I ran into his arms and asked about Strawberry Tail.

"I took him to live with another little girl," he said.

"Is she like me?"

"Yes, she's just like you."

My father hugged me and then called for Mike. For a few days, I continued to ask about the little girl who now owned Strawberry Tail. Finally convinced that he was happy in his new home, I began to think about him less and less.

Many years later, I remembered the calf with the brown and white striped tail that I had named Strawberry Tail and realized with great sadness what going to market really meant.

However, I told my granddaughters the story but did not tell them the meaning of going to market.

One evening my son, his family and I went out to eat. We placed our orders and my son ordered veal. While he was eating, he suddenly asked, "Just what kind of meat is veal?"

Sadly, I said, "Do you remember the story of Strawberry Tail?"

He put his fork down and said, "I can't eat any more."

Best Books of 2018

Although I only read 36 books last year, more than half were truly outstanding. Also, I reread some old favorites that were just as good now as in the past.

The top three best books of 2018 were:
1. The Winner by David Baldacci
2. Sleeping with the Enemy by Evelyn Anthony
3. A Wanted Man by Lee Child

Followed by, in no particular order:
4. A Chesapeake Shores Christmas by Sherryl Woods
5. Jack and Jill by James Patterson
6. Honeymoon by James Patterson
7.A Case of Need by Michael Crichton writing as Jeffery Hudson
8. White Death by Clive Cussler & Paul Kemprecos
9. Now and Forever by Jean Joachim
10. McNally's Caper by Lawrence Sanders
11. Divided in Death by J.D. Robb (Nora Roberts)
12 The Sunbird by Wilbur Smith
13. Make Me by Lee Child
14.To Have and To Kill by Mary Jane Clark
15. Avenger by Frederick Forsyth
16. Police at the Funeral by Margery Allingham
17.Manhunt by Janet Evanovich
18. The Third Option by Vince Flynn
19. Endless Game by Bryan Forbes
20. Secrets in Storyville by Patricia Gligor

Books from my past that I reread with great pleasure and were even better today:
1, Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart
2. Madam, Will You Talk? by Mary Stewart
3.My Brother Michael by Mary Stewart
4. Decision at Delphi by Helen MacInnes
5. The Venetian Affair by Helen MacInnes


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Best Books of 2017

• Because of illness and my laptop crashing, I am late posting the books I enjoyed the most last year. I read more Agatha Christie novels than any other author. One reason is that my Kindle crashed and I read paperbacks from our apartment library and there were actually some of her books I had never read before.
• The following books are in the order I read them, not in the order of whether I liked them best:
• 1. Mr. Parker Pyne, Detective by Agatha Christie
• 2. The Last Coyote by Michael Connelly
• 3. The Cat Who Saw Stars by Lilian Jackson Braun
• 4.The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie
• 5. The Mark of the Assassin by Daniel Silva--the first of his books that I've read and loved it!
• 6. Marnie Malone by Patricia Gligor--wonderful climactic scenes
• 7. Seldom Traveled by Marilyn Meredith--entertaining, intriguing and a great climax
• 8. Reread Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
• 9. The Beach House by James Patterson and Peter de Jonge

Tributes 2017

I always end each year with a list of authors who died. In 2017 three whom I admired very much left us: Colin Dexter, Robert James Waller, Sue Grafton.

I always looked forward to Colin Dexter's Inspector Morse and have read all the books except the last one in which the character died. Somehow I keep putting it off. 

Robert James Waller, the Author of The Bridges of Madison County, also died this year. I always admire an author who can capture the attention of a huge audience with a first novel. Perhaps that's every novelist's dream.

And last, just a few days ago, Sue Grafton died. Of the three, she inspired me the most. When she published her first novel in 1982, I was writing the draft of my first novel although it was not the first one I published. Grafton published an alphabet series that sadly ends with Y. One can only wonder how she was going to end the series. But her alter ego Kinsey Millhone will hopefully live on forever for readers who love a good mystery. I have not yet read W, X and Y. At least I can look forward to reading them.

The Life Span of a Cricket

The summer of 2001 I visited my mother at her home by Lake Texoma and she suggested that I stay there and use her home as a place to come to between my travels. Little did either of us know that I would stay for nine years! I did travel but not as much as I had planned.

Sometime in September of that year we heard a cricket chirping inside the house and although we looked everywhere, including in the basement and upstairs, we could never find it. And little by little, the chirps came less frequently.

One day after we heard one sad little chirp, I said, “I wonder what the life span of a cricket is. This one seems to be hanging on quite a long time for such a small insect.”

It didn’t occur to either of us to look it up in one of Mother’s reference books. The days went by and once in a while we would hear a chirp and wonder where it was.

Gradually we began to forget the cricket and life went on for us. One afternoon I went upstairs and as I started to enter my bedroom, I heard the cricket chirp loud and clear from the ceiling. I looked up and burst out laughing.

Mother yelled from downstairs and wanted to know what was so funny.

“I found the cricket,” I said.

“Where is it?” she asked.

“It’s on the ceiling but it’s not a cricket. However it is dying.”

“So, what is it?”

“The battery in the smoke alarm.”

(Just for reference, eventually I did google crickets and the life span of an adult cricket is three months.)

The Civilization (A Short Story)

The scientists were stunned. The planet was much older than they could ever have imagined. There was much discussion on whether to release the information to the public.

“Command Center will protest vehemently,” said one.

“But we mustn’t let them interfere,” said another. “They have prevented too much from being known.”

“For the time being, until we can figure out just what this discovery means, I think we should keep this to ourselves. When we can definitely pinpoint the origin of these things and what they mean, then we owe it to the people to inform them,” said a third scientist.

The argument progressed for a while but ended with a consensus that the discovery and meaning of the strange black objects should be kept secret among themselves until they figured out what they really meant.

The archaeologist who had discovered the objects in a dig on this remote spot of the planet was called in and informed of the decision. He immediately agreed not only with the decision but also to work with the other scientists to discover just what the significance of the black things were to an ancient civilization. Carbon dating had confirmed that the objects were over 500,000 years old. No one had ever imagined that human beings had lived so long ago, if, that is, human beings had indeed created such objects. Yet, what other kind of being could have done so?

The archaeologist, Pacquer Dymshi, went to his quarters in the scientific compound and studied the pictures he had taken of the objects, which were stored in a locked, climate-controlled, subterranean room. The bigger object had a square window and strange configurations below it. The window was dark and didn’t open onto anything. That an ancient civilization could have built something so sophisticated was mind-boggling. But the carbon tests had proved conclusive—they had tested over and over again. There were lines leading from the big object to the small one and a very strange tail-like appendage hanging loose from the big one. Pacquer thought he knew what the lines and tail meant but that, too, was incomprehensible. If human beings had lived on this planet 500,000 years ago, how had they had the sophistication to develop such an idea? Surely, any human from that period of time would have been more animal than human.

The other scientists soon summoned Pacquer to the subterranean room and a more extensive examination began, under the tightest security. Their secret must not be revealed too soon. There had to be a gradual public instruction regarding the discovery, preferably from the command center chief, who could persuade the less educated populace to believe him and only him, whenever a scientific discovery clashed with their beliefs.

The scientists had to tread very carefully in order to acquire and maintain the funding that they so desperately needed from command center.

Pacquer soon discovered that his theory regarding the tail and the connecting lines was correct and this led to even more astonishment at the breadth and width of the accomplishments of a people who should have been very primitive. Soon he and the other scientists were working the configurations and to their utter amazement the window soon revealed pictures of a civilization beyond belief. In fact there seemed to be a mixture of civilizations with people and even strange looking animals of all ages and both genders dressed in strange varieties of clothing. The hardest thing, and perhaps the most important, was deciphering the language of these ancient peoples. They finally settled on words that were repeated over and over, which seemed to be the main focus of the beings in the black object.

Months went by as the deciphering continued. Pacquer and the others would sometimes leave the compound and stroll around the remote area. It was an area that had been chosen, not only because of the discovery of the black objects there, but also because it was far from the other inhabitants of the planet and command center. Pacquer looked out on the desert mountains and thought of the pictures of the people and creatures in the window of the big black object. These people appeared many times in front of a strange-looking edifice but there were other pictures where they seemed to be inside of it. Pacquer wondered how the black objects came to be buried here in such a remote spot or had the terrain been completely different back then? Could this have been one of those exotic locales that had been destroyed by natural elements such as earthquakes or of the shifting of the planet’s axis or had early man participated in his own demise and that of his surroundings?

He was soon back to work and the deciphering of the words continued. The one phrase that was used over and over seemed to Pacquer and the other scientists as the key to deciphering the language of these strange people. However, it was that often-used phrase that confounded Pacquer the most. Finally, he thought he had it figured out but it appeared meaningless to him. Why had these people and creatures insisted on such insignificant words over and over again:

“Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?”

Best Books of 2016

In going over my list of the 44 books (my goal was at least 50) that I read last year, I discovered that there were 17 that I had given A+ or A++. They were the ones that gave me the most reading pleasure—the “I can’t put it down” award:

The A++ Books:

The Cain File by Max Tomlinson. I can’t say enough about his books—he blows my mind with each book he writes.

These Old Shades by Georgette Heyer. This shows how varied my reading tastes are. No two writers could be more different than Tomlinson and Heyer.

Guilt Trip by Ben Rehder. His Texas novels reflect a murderous humor similar to that of Carl Hiaasen’s Florida novels.

The A+ Books:

Indiscretion by Polly Iyer. I met Polly in a Suspense/Thriller Promotion group and was intrigued by the description of this book.

Buried for Pleasure by Edmund Crispin

Clammed Up by Barbara Ross, a superb cozy mystery

The Shadow Priest by D.C. Alexander

The Third Knife by Pamela Boles Eglinski

Unpredictable Love by Jean Joachim, a terrific romance novel

Rock with Wings by Anne Hillerman, Tony’s daughter continues his characters in a different but brilliant direction

Too Late to Die by Bill Crider, a new-to-me author whose books I will continue reading

Powder Burn by Carl Hiaasen and Bill Montalbano. Hiaasen never disappoints

The Pearl, The Red Pony and Other Stories by John Steinbeck, I have avoided Steinbeck since my high school days due to a teacher I didn’t like but a friend gave me a book with his stories and now I’m sorry I avoided him for so long

Lethal Dispatch by Max Tomlinson

The After House by Mary Roberts Rinehart, an American mystery writer who came before Agatha Christie

The Ritual Bath by Faye Kellerman, although I’ve read her husband’s books, I had never read hers. Now I will.

The Vanished Man by Jeffery Deaver, I haven’t read many of his Lincoln Rhyme mysteries but look forward to reading more.

Tributes 2016

2016 was a heartbreaking year considering how many celebrities died, people who gave so much of themselves by entertaining us. But my year ending blog always deals with the authors whom I’ve read and died. And this year only two authors fit that requirement: Harper Lee and Pat Conroy.

There isn’t anything I can add to all the accolades for one of the greatest American novels, To Kill a Mockingbird. It is a classic and will endure forever. It has been a long time since I read the novel and it’s the movie I remember best. I was thrilled when Gregory Peck won the Academy Award for his performance.

I only read one novel by Pat Conroy, The Great Santini. And like Mockingbird, it’s the movie I remember more than the novel and the performance by Robert Duvall. But unlike Ms. Lee, Mr. Conroy left behind a substantial body of work.

The deaths of Carrie Fisher and her mother Debbie Reynolds touched me immensely. I never read Ms. Fisher’s books and I don’t know if Ms. Reynolds wrote any or not. The reason I mention them is that Debbie Reynolds, my idol when I was a teenager, was the inspiration for a character in three of my own books. In my Tiger Sister trilogy, she was the oldest of six sisters and a rambunctious mischief maker who terrorized her younger sisters. But Debbie Tiger got her come-uppance with a surprise ending in one of the stories and would never have existed in my mind or my books if Debbie Reynolds had never existed.

Hooked from the Start—The Blurb, the Setting and Key Words

When I first encountered the novel Disappear by Iain Edward Henn, the blurb caught my attention immediately. A man had disappeared eighteen years previously and his body suddenly appeared—looking exactly as he had looked back then. That was a book I had to read! And read it, I did, plus all of Mr. Henn’s subsequent books.

The same happened when I came across Sendero by Max Tomlinson. In that novel the main character is a woman called Nina caught up in a war in Peru. She becomes an officer in Cuzco’s tourist police and goes in search of her brother. But it wasn’t just the blurb that caught my eye. It was also the Peruvian setting. I know very little about South America as my own experiences take place in Mexico and Puerto Rico. The troubles in Peru presented an alien world. And again I was hooked and proceeded to read all the novels by Mr. Tomlinson, including the ones not set in South America.

But there are key words that hook me also such as “tropical island”. That kind of setting will always catch my attention. But I have been burned by just buying a book because it’s set on a tropical island. Romantic suspense on a tropical island becomes a must read but it does pay to read the book’s blurb and reviews first.

Other key words that intrigue me are “time travel”. Years ago, I read House on the Strand by Daphne du Maurier and I was hooked for life with that genre. My own time travel mystery-romances were inspired by that novel (these are still works in progress although one short story has been published). And, of course, I had to read the recent novel by Marja McGraw--Choosing One Moment: A Time Travel Mystery. Time travel and mystery in one book? What more could I want?

A blurb, an intriguing setting and certain key words will grab my attention and the result is that I will buy the book, whether I know the author or not.

Hooked by a Title

The year was 1989, I lived in a small Texas town and I perused the local library for mysteries to read.  Suddenly one afternoon I spotted an intriguing title Death in Zanzibar by M.M. Kaye, an author I had never read. And a "faraway place with a strange sounding name" could not be ignored.

Fast forward to four years ago when I started a blog series titled Hooked from the Start and the fifth and last blog dealt mainly with first lines. I don't know why I put the series on hold but I did mention that Part Six would deal with titles, especially Death in Zanzibar by M.M. Kaye (M.M. stands for Mary Margaret). Obviously, I intended to continue the series but life got in the way and I forgot all about it. Hopefully now I'm back on track. 

Yes, I am a great lover of mysteries and of far away places and six of Ms. Kaye's books began with "Death in...." a faraway place. I read most of those books in 1989 and read one right after another. Later I discovered that not all of these titles originally began with "Death in" and must have been changed to indicate a continuity of sorts. She and her military husband moved 27 times and she used some of the places as inspiration for her novels.

 I learned, by reading her biography on Wikipedia, that she was born in India and her father was an intelligence officer in the Indian Army. Her grandfather, brother and husband all served in the British Raj, which was the rule of the British Crown in the Indian subcontinent between 1858 and 1947. Death in Zanzibar was the first of her mysteries that I read and as I said, I was hooked. The novels that I read next were all Death in a faraway place: Kashmir, Berlin, Cyprus, Kenya, the Andamans. She wrote other novels also but her most famous novel was The Far Pavilions.

In 1989 a public library was my sanctuary to search for mysteries. And certainly a series that began with "Death in..." suggested mystery. I discovered a lot of mystery writers that year just from browsing through titles. Of course the Internet later made it a lot easier to find mysteries or any genre, for that matter.

Part Seven in this series will continue not with titles or first lines but with blurbs that caught my attention.

A Tribute to my Father

Yesterday, June 18, my father, F.L. “Cotton” Chancey would have been 110 years old. My father loved to tell tales of family life on an Oklahoma farm in the early 20^th century. Unfortunately, I didn’t write them all down. One was about my grandfather when he was shot while riding his horse out in the woods. A man who lived alone in the woods found him and nursed him back to health, patching him up the best he could. Although the “patching” was amateurish, my grandfather lived until he was 90. There was more to the story but I can’t remember it.

The story I do remember was told to me by my father on a long car trip. It was about a time when he was quite small, maybe five years old. He had to go round up the cows for the evening but while he was riding his pony through the woods, a blizzard hit. He was completely lost.

And that story means more to me than all of the stories I’ve written. In early 2001, I submitted it to a magazine for boys. Two weeks later I received a letter from them. I knew that such a quick response meant a rejection and with great sadness I opened the envelope. Inside was a card that said my story titled Cotton would be published in the 2004 March/April Horse issue of Boys’ Quest Magazine. I couldn’t believe it. Tears streamed down my face. This was my first acceptance from a major publisher! If only my father could have lived to see his story in print. I had to wait three years for the story to be published but those three years passed quickly.

Of course, I can’t tell the story here because, as far as I know, that particular issue of Boys’ Quest Magazine is still available. But it had a happy ending and it is still the most thrilling of all the acceptances I have received since then.

Cha--a Tribute to my Mother

(My mother's nickname was Cha--rhymes with chat. The following is a true story.)

“Wake up, Cha, let’s hurry so we can beat the others to the river. For once let’s be first.”

Ten-year-old Cha Kennedy slowly opened her eyes and looked at her older sister.

“It’s morning already?” she asked. Then she remembered how she wanted to be the first to jump in and swim across the Chikaskia River to a sandbar on the other side.

During the ride yesterday from their home in Blackwell she had overheard her parents talking about the spring rains and how they hoped that the river hadn’t flooded. The family had arrived very late last night at Camp Phelps Grove in northern Oklahoma and had not had a chance to check out the river that ran in front of the cabins.

Springing into action, Cha, accompanied by her older sister and little brother who was also awake, crept out of the cabin with eager anticipation. Their parents and little sister were still asleep. Once outside they saw that some of the other vacationing kids had beaten them to the bank and were staring anxiously at the water. Cha had a sinking feeling when she saw how worried they looked. After all, none of them had jumped in yet.

As soon as the other kids saw Cha they began to challenge her to be the first one to take the plunge. She wondered why they were picking on her. They should remember I’m not a good swimmer.

“Come on, Cha, you go first.”

“Yeah, see if you can make it across.”

Cha looked at the river and saw why they had hesitated. The river was higher than normal and the racing current visible on the surface was quite intimidating.

The kids continued to egg her on and she was tempted to jump in. Could she make it across? The others seemed to think she could--or were they just goading her?

As the taunting increased she gave in and decided she could at least try. Surely the river wasn’t so bad. She had swum in the Chikaskia many times before. She plunged into the rapidly moving water—and was immediately swept away.

Overcome with panic, she began to scream. “Help! Help!” She gulped and sputtered as the water washed over and around her, pulling and tugging her further and further away from the shore.

The other kids began to scream too as they ran along the riverbank following her. At least one had the presence of mind to go for help.

“Mr. Kennedy! Help! Cha can’t make it to the other side of the river! She’s caught in the current—help!”

Cha’s father immediately stepped out of the cabin, surveyed the scene, pulled off his shoes and jumped into the river. To Cha’s great relief he was soon beside her. But to her distress he didn’t grab her and haul her back to shore. Instead, he swam alongside her, firmly urging her to swim onward.

She couldn’t believe that he wasn’t helping her. Was he just going to let her drown?

“Come on, you can do it,” he repeated over and over.

Disappointed and angry, she had no other choice. She continued with all her strength and swam downriver with her father beside her.

Despite the pull of the rushing water, Cha, impelled by her father’s stern, “You can do it,” struggled to reach the shore. She kicked her legs and moved her arms furiously over and under, over and under, with her father swimming alongside her continuously pushing her with his words. “You can do it! You can do it!”

She wanted so much for him to grab her and hold her as he swam to the shore but he refused. You can do it! You can do it!  The words became an echo inside her head as she frantically propelled her body onward through the water. All at once she knew she could do it—she had to.

And she did it—she reached the shore by herself. But she was still angry with her father for not helping her more. Standing up, she shook the water off and looked around, ready to complain to him. They had swum quite a distance downstream but they were safe. Suddenly she smiled, no longer quite so angry with her father who, she realized, should have been angry with her for so carelessly endangering herself.

However, as he waded onto the shore he said simply yet sternly, “I knew you could do it.”

Grateful that he had not reprimanded her more, she thought to herself, I did it but I’ll never do it again. By the look on his face she could tell that he knew she had learned her lesson.

No one else went in the river that day.

GRAHAM CRACKER DILEMMA--a Tribute to my Mother

This month and next month for Mother's Day I am writing about little incidents (among many) that occurred when I lived with my mother during the 2000s decade.

About fifteen years ago my 85-year-old Mother gave me a grocery list and I went to the grocery store to get the items, one of which was a box of graham crackers. I was surprised that of all the cookies that are available that she would want those specifically. She and her companion Fred always ate a sweet snack every night at 10:00, snacks that varied from snack cakes to ice cream to cookies but I never realized that she was so fond of graham crackers.

When I came to the cookie section, I found that I was facing a dilemma of sorts. Should I get the more expensive brand or go for the generic brand that contained twice as many crackers? I also noticed that both kinds offered two choices: honey graham and cinnamon graham. Finally, I decided on the generic brand, figuring that a graham cracker by any other brand was still the same and also the larger size box was half the price of the smaller brand box. But which would Mother prefer—the honey or the cinnamon? I finally decided that the honey was the traditional graham cracker and Mother would prefer that one. (Please note that this occurred before I had a cell phone so I couldn’t call her.)

So, along with my other purchases, I left the store with a generic brand of honey graham crackers, hoping that Mother would like them.

When I arrived home I gave her a detailed explanation on how I had worked through my dilemma of which graham cracker box to buy.

To which Mother replied rather nonchalantly, “Oh, they’re for Fred and he’s not picky.”

What? I had spent all that time worrying about a treat for Fred, her Cocker Spaniel?

Loved the Book, Hated the Ending

Now that may seem like an oxymoron but there are novels I loved until I got to the ending. But the journey was so intriguing I still count some of those books as favorites. I’m going to mention a couple without giving the story or plot away—just simply state the book was a great read in spite of the ending.

The first novel that comes to mind is House on the Strand by Daphne du Maurier. It’s a time travel and the inspiration for my future time travel stories featuring Dr. M.M. (Lynnie) Tiger, whose first time travel adventure occurred in a short story in my YA book The Happy Tigers. House on the Strand was a book I couldn’t put down. And although the protagonist was able to go back into the past by taking a drug, my protagonist will go back by touching ancient artifacts. The ending, however, was a downer but the fact I couldn’t put the book down until I got to the end still puts it in my all-time favorites list.

Another novel I loved until the ending was Sullivan’s Sting by Lawrence Sanders. This was a fun read all the way through until I got to the ending., which was a great disappointment but I still gave the book an A+. Sanders wrote some series that were fabulous (and I always looked forward to the sandwiches one of his protagonists ate). Other novels by him were great disappointments all the way through. Sullivan’s Sting was a fun read but, for me, the ending fizzled.

On an opposite note, I have read novels I hated until I got to the end where the ending was so good it made up for the rest of the novel. One novel that comes to mind is The Children of Men by P.D. James whose Dalgleish mysteries I love. But this is a stand a lone. For me the first half was beyond depressing but the ending more than made up for the rest of the book. It was even made into an award winning movie.

And in regard to my own writing, my novel Who’ll Kill Agnes? has an unexpected and not so happy ending. There were a few miniscule clues along the way but I doubt any reader saw that ending coming. In fact, I, as the writer, didn’t see it coming until I got to the end.

Interview with Mystery Author Patricia Gligor

      My guest this week is mystery author Patricia Gligor. I have read four of her books in her Malone mystery series and am looking forward to the next installment. Welcome, Patricia, and tell us a bit about yourself.

My name is Patricia Gligor (rhymes with “tiger”) and I live in Cincinnati, Ohio. I grew up in a big, old house with lots of nooks and crannies and a woods behind it as far as the eye could see, a fertile ground for a young girl’s imagination. My favorite books as a child were Judy Bolton and Nancy Drew mysteries and I started “making up” mysteries to entertain my friends at a very young age. So, I guess it was only natural that I would grow up to be a mystery writer. I love a mystery! 

1) What kinds of books do you like to read and is there one special book that is your favorite overall?

I read (and write) mystery/suspense novels. If I had to pick my favorite book, which is also the book that influenced me the most as a writer, it would be “Where are the children?” by Mary Higgins Clark. 

2) Who are your favorite authors, past and present?

My favorite author is Mary Higgins Clark. I had the pleasure of meeting her in person at a book signing in 2002. Not only is she a great writer but she’s also a wonderful, kind person who took the time to encourage me to “write that novel.” There are lots of other authors whose books I enjoy reading but the list is too long to mention here.

3) Are there any authors who have inspired you to write and, if so, who are they?

See questions 1 & 2.

4) How do you choose your characters’ names?

I have a “Name your baby” book and I frequently use that to come up with a name whose definition fits the character I’m writing about. For example, my main character’s sister loves the ocean. I named her Marnie, which means “of the sea.” And, although I’m not really “into” astrology, I do give my characters birthdays based on their astrological signs. My main character, Ann, is a Capricorn (a mountain goat,) and she is loyal and persistent, qualities that define her and are crucial to the story.

5) Are you a plotter or a “pantster”?

A plotter BIG TIME. Before I begin to write, I create a chapter-by-chapter outline, listing what absolutely has to happen in each chapter. The outline is subject to change, of course, but I need to have a guideline. I think of it as a road map when I’m taking a trip. As I drive, I may revise my itinerary a bit (take a few detours) but I want to end up at my designated destination.               

6) What kind of writing schedule do you have?

When I’m in the midst of writing a book, I write every morning for three to four hours. But it doesn’t end there. Throughout the day (and sometimes, the night), an idea will come to me and I have to jot it down. That’s why I keep a pad of paper and pen in every room, in my purse and in my car.
 

7) How do you choose your titles? Do you have a title in mind before you start writing or does something occur after you have begun to write or after you have finished?

       

When I first come up with the idea for a book, I seldom know what the title will be. As the story develops, the title usually suggests itself. For example, in Mixed Messages, my first Malone mystery, Ann is receiving mixed messages from several sources. I like to use titles that have double meanings whenever possible. Unfinished Business, the second book in my series, is a perfect example of that.

              
 8) Do you base your characters on real people or are they completely from your imagination?

Most of my characters have some personality and/or physical traits in common with a real life person but they are each their own “person.” Some are composites of several real people but they’re ultimately figments of my imagination.

9) Have you used real life experiences in your fiction or is everything from your imagination?

I draw upon anything and everything when I write. Experiences I’ve had, stories other people have told me. Somehow, it all comes together at just the right time. The whole process constantly fascinates me.

10) When did you realize that you wanted to be a writer?

When I was ten years old, I saw my “byline” on a poem I’d written for my Sunday school magazine and I knew instantly that I wanted (needed) to be a writer.

 

11) What books have you published and where can readers find them?

I’ve written four books in my Malone Mystery series and I’m working on the fifth. My books can be found online at Amazon and Barnes & Noble and they can be ordered from your local book store. Here’s the amazon link: http://tinyurl.com/8sd2cz4

Questions for fun:

12) What is your favorite color?

I love all shades of turquoise, from aqua to teal.

           

13) Favorite flavor of ice cream?

Milk Chocolate yogurt ice cream

           

14) Favorite cookie and/or candy bar?

 Chocolate chip cookies and Hershey dark chocolate candy bars

          

15) Favorite movie?

 Double Jeopardy starring Tommy Lee Jones and Ashley Judd

16) Favorite TV show?

 Castle

          

17)  Favorite place to write:

At home in my office in total quiet and solitude.

Patricia with her favorite author Mary Higgins Clark:

Thank you, Patricia for a most enjoyable interview.

New (to me) Authors of 2015

One of the most enjoyable things about reading is discovering new authors. In the past my goal was to read at least 100 books (mainly novels) each year. I rarely made that goal. Nowadays my goal is to read at least 50. A lot of that has to do with my poor eyesight. In 2015 I read only 45 books and out of those only three were new authors to me. But I considered their books to be outstanding and I wanted to share my thoughts about them.

They are not necessarily new authors just coming out. I simply had never encountered their books before. The following is not a list beginning with the best of the three but the order in which I read these books. I find new books that are recommended by Amazon Kindle Daily Specials or offered as specials by sites such as Bargain Booksy or posted on the Facebook site Saturday Self Promotion Extravaganza for Suspense/Thriller Writers. And one was given to me. But I loved each one.

1. Secrets in the Fairy Chimney by Linda Maria Frank. I loved this book so much I gave it a score of A++!!! It's a wonderful romantic, suspenseful tale of a dig near Istanbul, Turkey. The heroine and her soon-to-be fiancé become involved with evil smugglers who have stolen artifacts from Iraq. Two precocious children, a brother and sister, are involved also. This is my favorite kind of novel--danger, intrigue, romance and an archaeological dig!

2. Cinders' Bride by Kathleen Ball. This is a romance novel, Book One in the series Mail Order Brides of Texas. This novel was a welcome change from all the murder and mayhem type books I usually read. However, there is violence, which appeared in the beginning of the book. The heroine goes to Texas as a mail order bride and is stunned (to say the least) that the man who bought her was not the rancher she thought he was. But a good-hearted rancher does come to her rescue. The research for this book was very impressive. 

3. Spider Woman's Daughter by Anne Hillerman who continues the series started by her father Tony Hillerman (one of my all-time favorite authors). This is a Chee and Leaphorn mystery with Bernadette (Bernie) now married to Jim Chee. It begins when Bernie and Joe Leaphorn leave a café and he is shot. From there begins a search by Bernie and Chee for the person who shot him. The journey takes them through Indian country from Shiprock to Santa Fe. The climactic scene is one of the most terrifying I've ever read but Bernie overcomes all odds. It felt wonderful to be back in the world that the author's father created. 

It's a wonderful feeling to discover new authors and know that there are many of their books waiting for me to read.

  

Tributes: Ann Rule, E.L. Doctorow, Terry Pratchett, Colleen McCullough, Jackie Collins, Ruth Rendell

It's that sad time of the year again--saying goodbye to the authors whom I've read and have left us in 2015. For some of these authors I have read only one of their books: The Thorn Birds by the Australian author Colleen McCullough, Loon Lake by E.L. Doctorow and Mort by Terry Pratchett. 

I'm not sure how many of Ann Rule's books I read but I was always intrigued by her research into real life crimes and how she told those stories. Because I'm a fan of the mystery genre, I found her books fascinating in how they related to fictional mystery.

I read Jackie Collins many years ago and was impressed by her knowledge of celebrity lives. She went to California from England to live with her older sister Joan Collins but, after trying acting, she found her calling in writing scandalous, steamy romance novels, which were great fun to read. 

I read McCullough's The Thorn Birds and then watched the mini-series on television, which became the second most watched mini-series (behind Roots). She went on to write more novels.

Doctorow's tale is from the Great Depression when a young man finds himself alone and cold by a railroad track and sees a train go by with intriguing people inside two of the cars. He follows the track to an estate at Loon Lake. 

Terry Pratchett suffered from early onset Alzheimer's Disease, which eventually took his life. Mort, the novel that I read, was a rip-roaring ride of satire through an imaginary flat discworld. In fact, he wrote an entire series titled Discworld. 

Ruth Rendell was or still is one of my favorite authors. I have read quite a few of her Inspector Wexford mysteries. There was only one of her books, Master of the Moor, that I disliked intensely. That one was a standalone, which did not include Wexford. But at least I can look forward to reading many more of her Wexford novels. 

Food in Novels?

Since this is the season to eat and be merry and let the diets begin in January, I thought I might mention a criticism I received lately regarding food in one of my novels: Death by Salsa. Of all the things one could criticize me for, I thought that one was weird for this particular book. Granted my characters in most of my books do seem to eat a lot but I had no idea that there are readers who object to it. After all eating is one of the enjoyable perks of life and fictional people should enjoy it as much as “real” people.

But salsa is a central part of the plot of Death by Salsa and the fact that my two heroes spend most of their time looking for the best peppers, it never occurred to me that a reader might object. But object she did and complained about all the eating my characters did.

When I read her critique, I immediately thought of the culinary mysteries that are so popular these days and that many of those authors publish recipes at the end of their books. I also published recipes after each book in my (Human) Zoo Trilogy: The Pig Farm, The Pool Lizards, The Groundhog Lounge. Therefore I had no idea that eating was such a sin in mystery novels.

And then I remembered two of my favorite authors, Dick Francis and Lawrence Sanders, whose main characters actually found time to eat. In fact, Dick Francis gave me the idea for one of my favorite breakfasts: an egg scrambled with mushroom soup on toast. And in the Deadly Sin series by Lawrence Sanders, his protagonist is forever making delicious sounding decadent sandwiches. I have even copied those down and included them in my own personal recipe collection.

So will I let the person who criticized me for having too much food prevent me from feeding my characters in subsequent novels? Of course not. Besides, she (or he?) gave me the idea for this little essay.

My Favorite Things

When it comes to things I enjoy the most, I’ve been told that I’m old-fashioned. What difference does that make? I’m the one enjoying them, not my critics.

Over the years there have been a lot of TV shows that I have liked but none have come close to the enjoyment I’ve had watching Fawlty Towers—over and over again. And I laugh and laugh each time. John Cleese only made twelve episodes but, in my humble opinion, they are twelve episodes of pure hilarious genius.

My favorite movie is Charade starring Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn. I haven’t watched it in a long time but I can’t imagine any movie coming close to the mystery and excitement of that movie, not to mention the fabulous settings. Other favorite movies are The Seven Year Itch starring Tom Ewell and Marilyn Monroe, Local Hero starring Peter Riegert and Burt Lancaster, Bandits starring Bruce Willis and Billy Bob Thornton.

My favorite piece of music is Donna e Mobile from the opera Rigoletto by Verdi. The song has become such a part of our popular culture that nowadays it’s used to promote pizza! Other favorites are Jamaica Farewell as sung by Harry Belafonte, Hey Jude by The Beatles and listening to the Blue Tango played by almost anyone.

And then there are my favorite books and too many to list but I will mention the ones that have influenced my reading pleasure. I’m not sure how old I was when I first read Huckleberry Finn, probably in the 5^th or 6^th grade but I know I reread it in Jr. High and high school. A childhood favorite was the original Peter Pan and unlike everyone else, my favorite character in that book was Tiger Lily, simply because she was an Indian. I have no idea how many times I read and reread that book.

Gothic romance beginning with Mistress of Mellyn by Victoria Holt and Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier was my reading choice for a while. Then the Regency romances by Georgette Heyer captured my attention.

My Brother Michael introduced me to Mary Stewart and, in a way, changed my life. During my first year of teaching in Las Vegas whenever a new Mary Stewart came out, I would call in sick and read the book. I also discovered Helen MacInnes that year beginning with Decision at Delphi. International intrigue became my favorite reading, especially when a few years later I discovered Robert Ludlum.

And then humor entered into my reading foray: books by P.G. Wodehouse, Carl Hiaasen, Janet Evanovich, Elmore Leonard and Ben Rehder. But there were standalones: Savages by Shirley Conran (hated the ending and not too crazy about the beginning either but loved the pages between); A Cluster of Separate Sparks by Joan Aiken; The House on the Strand by Daphne du Maurier (I hated the ending of that one also but it influenced my Vv Tiger time travels-still to come). And I loved all of the books by Tony Hillerman.

And there are many more old favorites too numerous to mention here. Besides, I have already blogged about the ladies of the Golden Age of Mystery. I am continuously discovering new favorites but that would be another topic altogether.

And apparently books have always been my favorite things.