What Happens When You're Alone on an Island Paradise

Photo by Thanasis Krikis (Mykonos Confidential)

Jeff—Saturday

I can’t believe how quickly the summer’s flown by!  My Texas granddaughter and grandson already are back in school, and my New York granddaughter is gearing up for her entry onto the Long Island kindergarten scene.

Over here on Mykonos, the tectonic shift in tourists is underway. The hard partying young Southern Europeans have moved on, the Gay XLSIOR Festival crowd has moved in for a week, and all the island awaits September with its promise of returning old Mykonos hands lingering on into October.

I’ve spent many an August on Mykonos, and to be honest, I no longer feel affected by the dreaded August madness—other than incidentally impacted by the choking traffic, late night marauding crowds, and steeply escalated prices.  No doubt that’s because I rarely leave my writing garrets.  That’s plural, because I have several, depending on my mood. 

Outdoor office #1

View from OO#1

Outdoor office #2 

Outdoor office #3

Indoor office #1

Indoor office #2

Deadlines must be met.  It’s a curse I’ve labored under since my days as a lawyer, and mine always seem to fall at the end of summer.  This year, I started writing Kaldis #10 during the last week of May, aiming for a stride of 1000 words per day.  I hit that mark, and once Barbara abandoned me to the island for August (see above for reasons why), my output increased considerably.  After all, what else could there possibly be for me to do on Mykonos without her?

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. For example, I bet you can’t imagine the sorts of responses I received to this simple research question: “What are high season rates this year on Mykonos for prostitutes?”  Trust me, it’s integral to my story line.

One would expect such a question to raise an eyebrow or two, but each person I asked answered matter-of-factly, as if I’d asked for the time of day.  Was that reaction indicative of how islanders have come to accept the sex industry, and all it represents, as part of a new island normal?  Or were they simply treating it as just another of Jeffrey’s “crazy writer questions.”

Whatever their reasons, I obtained the information I needed, wrote my book, and two days ago, transferred it from the screen to hard copy pages for the next stage in the process. 

I’m comfortable in knowing that the book will meet its deadline (puh, puh, puh), and all I’ll have left to worry about is whether this is the Kaldis novel that will have me “swimming with the fishes.”

No matter, once Barbara returns, we’ll be off for a bit of vacation among the Greek Isles.

Ah, the joy of being a crime writer living on an island paradise.  You get to fictionalize its intriguing warts, while enjoying its honest pleasures.

—Jeff