COZY MYSTERIES: My Brief Journey Down the Rabbit Hole

I don’t want to grow up.  And you can’t make me.

I write middle grade novels with fantasy elements.  In the past I’ve written high fantasy and dabbled in science fiction.  I’ve considered and rejected writing for young adults, because I’m not comfortable being responsible for teen-aged girls engaging in romantic relationships.  And frankly, adults are boring.  However, when it was time to seriously nail down what I wanted to write my next novel about, I hit upon a new idea (for me): The cozy mystery.

I work in a bookstore on the weekends, and I had the opportunity one day to spend several hours working with the cozy mystery shelves.  I’d never taken a hard look at those books before, and the first thing that struck me was the titles.  For the most part they are funny and whimsical, which immediately made me think about how fun it would be to write one.  If you are not familiar with the genre, they all tend to feature a main character with a certain hobby or vocation — baking or farming, running an antique shop or a dress shop. Many of them feature dogs or cats, and quite a few involve food of one kind or another.  These main characters are never professional crime fighters, such as police detectives or criminal lawyers (like you would find in traditional mysteries).  These women (about 90% of the protagonists are women) are all accidental sleuths.  Think Murder She Wrote.

As I scanned the shelves I encountered titles like, Tart of Darkness, Seams Like Murder, The Quiche and the Dead, Italian Iced, No Farm, No Foul, and Murder, She Barked.  I founds books that featured pretty much any kind of occupation a middle-aged woman might find interesting.  There were books about a glass shop, a seafood restaurant set in a lighthouse in Maine, a bed and breakfast, a tea garden, a bridal shop, a chocolatier, a cheese shop, a caterer, a florist, a bakery, a sewing circle, and a beauty parlor.  There were books where the protagonist loved crossword puzzles, beading, crochetting, candlemaking, quilting, scrapbooking, journalism, gardening, or one of any number of crafty diversions.  And they almost always take place in a small colorful town, full of quirky recurring characters.

But here’s what really made me sit up and take notice, as I researched the cozy mystery genre. They are formulaic, of course.  But unlike children’s books (or almost any other kind of novel), nobody expects you to be original.  There aren’t just several books about baking, there are a lot of books about baking, and every one of them is part of a series about baking.  Sure, some are about cakes and others are about muffins and still others are about bread, but nobody is going to tell you there are too many cozy mysteries about baking.  A pretzel stand by the beach would fit right in.  The heroes are all very similar, too: 20-40, female, usually single, a tiny bit ditsy, maybe struggling to run a business with money inherited from a deceased aunt, and caught up trying to solve a murder they had nothing to do with.  The deaths are almost always off-stage and “clean” — no gore, little blood, not much violence.  Their best friend’s or neighbor’s brother is the chief of police or a clerk at the local courthouse, so there are plenty of ways for our hero to get official information.  People are constantly coming and going to their little shop so there are a million opportunities to pick up clues, but as the owner they can drop everything and close up shop any time they need to chase down a juicy lead.  Romance is light, and expected to take several books to kindle.  Yes, these are written specifically to be series.  In fact, it’s pretty much a prerequisite.

All of these things attracted me: a simple formulaic plot, a fun hobby to research and write about, some humor, a small-town setting, and an expectation that the publisher will want more.  I started thinking about a divorcee running an antique bookstore in a snowy northwestern town tucked in the mountains.  I started filling the town with characters….

But ultimately, I have decided to write another children’s book.  A historic fantasy set in 16th century Ireland.  Think Freaky Friday meets Brave.  This book will be more difficult to write — more research, convincingly portraying an utterly alien world with it’s long-forgotten speech and modes of dress and local superstition, creating complex characters that will appeal to a young audience, and being original all at the same time.  With no guarantee of any interest in a possible sequel.

Why?  One reason: it excites me more than the alternative.  And without that spark, that drive, that eager motivation, I would probably not get very far.

Working with an Editor – part 5

This is where we start the actual “editing” part of the writer/editor relationship. During our phone call, I took extensive notes. Because while I had my editor’s edit letter — which  was efficiently organized by plot, pacing, world building, character development, and writing style — it was during our phone call that she was able to elaborate and we had time to discuss possible solutions.

In the past I have done several major revisions to this full manuscript, including a Revise and Resubmit for an interested agent.  In those cases, many of the changes were global and required that I trace each thread through all of the chapters, keeping a careful eye on consistency.  In most cases, several of these threads were in effect simultaneously — such as changing my main character’s motivation throughout while also adding a new source of tension.  Or I may have cut a major scene altogether which was referenced a number of places later on, while at the same time adding a new scene elsewhere to replace some of the missing elements.  This required a lot of planning and outlining.  All of the changes had to work in concert, so everything I revised had to be part of this master plan.

Not so much, this time. The changes my editor suggested were all specific and fairly contained.  Which, to my unending delight, means I can tackle each of them in turn. For example, my favorite suggestion is to change the setting for the novel.  Not every setting, but the main setting, where the key action takes place.

Most of the scenes take place at home, at summer camp, at a sleep-over, etc.  There is a scene at soccer practice, another at the mall, yet another at a restaurant.  None of these have to change, or not much. But the main action takes place at the family business — a booth at a local craft fair and farmer’s market, where the family spends their weekends and makes their living.  This is where the story starts, where the inciting incident happens, where the villain makes his moves, and where the climax takes place.  Aside from the family’s booth, several other important characters also reside at the fair, and our hero learns about her destiny and works toward her goal by visiting — sometimes secretly — these other characters.  It’s important that there are lots of people and activity.  But in my ongoing efforts to streamline the beginning of the book and strip out every superfluous word or sentence, my descriptions of the scenery fall a bit flat.  There is no real sense of “place.”  And no weather or seasons.  It’s just a backdrop.

I immediately saw what she was talking about, and based on our conversation I settled on a brand new setting.  Before, the book took place in the made-up town of Rockford, in no particular state — or even region — of the United States.  I thought it might be good to let my readers imagine the story took place near their own town.  Now, it’s going to take place in Rockford Harbor, Maine.  This is still a made-up town (which my editor and I agree is best, since I’ve never been to Maine, and would never be able to accurately describe a real place).  It is on the southern coast of Maine (near the real towns of Rockport and Rocklin).  Specifically, it will take place on the Ferry Beach Boardwalk and Pier, which is modeled after the real Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

This is where the family business will be — on the boardwalk, tucked in among the amusement rides and crab shacks.  And the old lady who tells our hero her destiny will have her shop at the end of the pier.  There will be the sounds of rides and arcade games, the smell of the ocean and lobster rolls, crying seagulls will fly overhead, and there will be tourists and sand everywhere.  It will snows in winter when business is slow, and the crowds will come when school lets out for the summer.  My setting will come alive.

And I can go through the book, scene-by-scene and revise the settings where needed, leaving many of them — home, mall, restaurant, camp — exactly the same.  Then when I’m satisfied with these changes, I can move on to the next item on the list.

I’m in no hurry.  Eager, but not rushed.  First I need to research the Old Orchard Beach Pier, as well as the state of Maine. It needs to feel real, especially to people who have been to these places. But I am more excited about this change than any other I have made so far.  Because without having to alter the story (much), I will be adding a rich, new layer that will be evident from the very first sentence, and will give readers a whole new reason to want to turn the page.

Working With an Editor – part 4

If other freelance editors are like Michelle Millet of Write On Editing, the writing community is in good hands.

Not only did Michelle offer me exactly the level of feedback I needed for my project, but her turn-around was remarkable.  I already outlined in part 1 and part 2 of this series, how and why I chose Michelle from all of the other freelance editors out there, and some of the feedback she gave. But the best part of the whole experience was the follow-up phone call, which was part of the editing package.

First of all, I was nervous.  I’d paid for this call and I’m not going to be able to afford to pay for another, so I was nervous about getting all of my questions answered.  But I was also nervous because someone I trusted was going to tell me to my face (well, to my ear) what was broken about my book.  Unlike advice from beta readers or friends and family, when you pay hard-earned money for a professional critique, it is not easy to dismiss if you don’t happen to agree with it.*

I had no need to worry. Michelle was friendly, well-prepared, and had a slew of questions of her own. We methodically went down her list of items she felt needed work, and was happy to listen to my reasons for why I had made the choices I’d made. This was not me making excuses; it was a conversation about my book.  That was something I’d never really experienced before.  With the beta readers and critique partners I’ve interacted with, there is little back-and-forth.  I’ve gotten some outstanding advice, but sometimes you’ve simply explained something poorly or not emphasized something well enough, and your reader fails to get something important.  These are the times when you feel perfectly justified ignoring certain advice, because you know what you’re written is right, maybe just not clear. On my call with Michelle, I was able to discuss such instances, and found in many cases she agreed with me — “It’s okay to leave that in, then, just as long as you make this other thing more clear in the beginning.” Or, “Oh, that makes perfect sense, now that you point that out.  Maybe you should add in a bit of clarification so the reader gets what you intended.”  With advice I’ve gotten in the past, I’ve had to live with comments that simply say “Cut that thing because it doesn’t make sense,” and having to decide whether or not to accept or reject that advice.

Believe me — this is better.

Our 45 minute call stretched to an hour and a half (your results may vary). She was not willing to end the call until I had asked every question I could think of — several not precisely related to her critique.  Such as query etiquette or career advice.  Did this bargain-priced editing experience find everything wrong with my manuscript? Was it a silver bullet?  I won’t know until I study the extensive notes I took along with her comments, and dive into the revision process.  I will be making several substantial changes.  Because I went with a less expensive editor, I am not getting a second read-through after my revision (unless I pay again). That’s a big advantage with the more expensive, more thorough package deals out there.  Like me, you have to weigh your priorities.  For me, it was find an editor that fit my very limited budget, or do without altogether.

I highly recommend Michelle and Write On Editing.  They have many different packages available, depending on the kind and level of feedback you’re looking for. And more broadly, if you can afford it, I highly recommend hiring an editor in general. If you do, I hope your experience is as satisfying as mine has been. You know what to look for, now.

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*This is not to say you can’t dismiss the advice of a professional editor.  You certainly can, and I would even say in some cases you should.  But it is like throwing away money, so t’s harder to do.

Putting the “Life” in Daily Life Writing

There is a growing trend to set books in unusual times and places – gothic woods, outer space, another county, another century, etc. This kind of thing has actually been going on for as long as there have been books. What I think is happening more and more often these days is putting ordinary people from ordinary walks of present day life in those settings.

In my experience as a reader there are two distinct versions of this: those that are believable, and those that are not. And for me, this believability factor is really all about one thing – Does the writer make e feel like the character is really there?

I read a book recently which takes place largely in free-fall. Where it fell short for me was in the details that were missing. The author told me it was free-fall, made things float around, had characters navigate themselves around the habitat by pushing off of things, and so on. And maybe that would have been sufficient if the characters were raised in free-fall. But these were characters new to the experience. And what was missing for me was how did life in free-fall feel different from the life they were used to? How did it feel to swallow? What was it like trying to go to sleep with no “down?” Did it annoy them to have their hair floating around them like they were under water all the time?

Are these details important to the plot? Not necessarily (although an of these could be the perfect thing to hinge a plot-turn around), but that’s not the point. These kind of little details anchor your reader in your setting, in your character’s head, and in your story. This worked for Harry Potter; everyone at Hogwarts had grown up with pumpkin juice, but for Harry it was a brand new experience. Being in Harry’s head we got to be introduced to this new taste sensation. If we had been in Ron’s head, this would have been glossed over, like what it feels like to put on socks.

In the book my daughter and I are writing now (about to be writing; we’re plotting), the contemporary main character is transported to Ireland in 1507. Broadly speaking, everything is going to be vastly different. It would be overwhelming to dwell on every detail. There will be a period of reverse future-shock (“past-shock?”) when she realizes nothing about this world is familiar, but after that, after we move on, we must find ways to make the experience of daily life in sixteenth century Ireland seem real. And this is where we must put the “life” in daily life.

Not in the big things – traveling everywhere on-foot, no telephones, everyone talks funny – but in the small things. What is it like getting dressed when you don’t understand how the clothes work? What does it feel like after you haven’t had a bath in week? How does the air smell different? What does the water taste like? Why does everyone keep looking a me funny?

The thing about future-shock (and past-shock) is not the big changes – you expect those. It’s the little changes. Hair styles. Food. Popular music. Think of it another way: what if you only travelled ten years into the future? You wouldn’t expect to suddenly see hovercars or countries with completely different borders. But remember, the iPhone is only eight years old. If you arrived here from 2005, you would be astonished to find everybody walking around with mobile devices that respond to voice commands and that can make video calls in the middle of nowhere. If you told a story about that time jump and only mentioned that we now have a black president but didn’t mention mobile devices, you would be missing a huge part of the daily life experience.

The problem as a writer, of course, is that in this particular case, most history books deal with only the very big things, and do not give you a lot of details about what beds felt like 500 years ago. Or what shoes felt like, or what soap smelled like. And those are the details I need most of all.