Billy Strayhorn at 110

Annamaria on Monday

I am updating this post on the day after Billy Strayhorn's birthday. As of yesterday, it is 110 years since he was born. My original post begins with a complaint about how little-known and how under appreciated has been Billy's contribution to American culture. All of those omissions are still true. When it comes to appreciating the brilliant man Billy was, the United States is worse off now than it was 10 years ago.

Nowadays, powerful people in the US speak about people like Billy as if they are despicable and unacceptable. They think it is okay to treat them as second class citizens.  Who are these people who take pride in their superiority over people who are black and people who are gay? Here below is my ten year old description of Billy Strahorn's contribution to American culture. As far as I can see, and I pay a lot of attention, almost everything that is great in American culture comes from people like Billy. Here below is the evidence. I dare the haters to show me their evidence.  What are the valuable things that they have contributed? 

William Thomas “Billy” Strayhorn was born on 29^th of November 1915.  He was the greatest composer of American jazz music ever.  Many of you will not recognize his name.  Spellcheck doesn’t even know it.  It recognizes Ellington, Armstrong, Gillespie, Basie, Gershwin, certainly—but not Strayhorn.  But Billy is the one who gave jazz its greatest measure of elegance and emotional subtlety.  He wrote songs that told stories of regret, resignation, temptation, loneliness—with melodies, rhythms, and lyrics that communicated with perfect unity of effect.  All beautiful, urbane, restrained, stylish, refined.  Yet exciting.

Billy was born in Dayton, spent his early years falling in love with music at his grandmother’s house in North Carolina and, back with his mother, went to Westinghouse High School in Pittsburgh, an institution that also gave us Erroll Garner and Ahmad Jamal.  By age nineteen, Billy was a professional musician.  With no hope of making it in the white world of classical music, he was brought to jazz by Art Tatum and Teddy Wilson.  Fate had done jazz a favor.

And an even greater act of serendipity occurred in December of 1938, one that brought together Billy and Duke Ellington.  Billy Strayhorn had a hand in, was a moving force in all the greatest songs we now associate with the Duke: “Take the A Train,” “Chelsea Bridge,” “Lush Life” are all Strayhorn compositions.

Some people accuse Ellington of hogging all the credit for Billy’s genius.  That’s a complicated subject.  It is true that Strayhorn never received royalties for the songs that he wrote that Ellington published.  On the other hand, Ellington gave Billy a musical home par excellence.  And at a time, in the 40’s and 50’s when Billy, who was openly gay, would have had a hard time making it on his own.  Strayhorn got to write for and work with the greatest jazz musicians of his era.

And the Duke did credit him.  Saying things like “Billy Strayhorn was my right arm, my left arm, all the eyes in the back of my head, my brainwaves in his head, and his in mine.”  And “Strayhorn does a lot of the work, but I get to take the bows.”

Next time you watch “Anatomy of a Murder,” listen carefully to the soundtrack.  Strayhorn and Ellington composed it, and it was a landmark of film music composition.

Billy Strayhorn was an early civil rights activist, with close ties to Dr. Martin Luther King.  He was Lena Horne’s best friend.

Now I’ll let his work speak for itself:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtYvGJaIRn0

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfnx0H2q2XM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ld3yny1yCXM

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mub-gyuPFlw

I am writing this on Sunday, the hundredth anniversary of Strayhorn’s birth.  He died in 1967, an early death of cancer at the age of only fifty-one.

But he is immortal.  

Writer’s Digest on How I Reclaimed My Rights from Multiple Publishers

 

Jeff–Saturday

The Odyssean challenges I faced in my decades-long quest to see my entire 14-book Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis series back in print would try the patience of a saint.  But I’m no saint, I’m a crime writer, and after more than a dozen years of back and forth with a half-dozen publishers, my journey has proven overwhelmingly worthwhile. I have my rights back and my complete Greece-based series is back in print in spanking new covers as of November 20, 2025.

Let’s start at the beginning…

Forty years ago, a friend suggested I visit Greece. She said I’d love it. She was right and for the past twenty years I’ve lived there longer than any other place on earth.  My love for Greece led me to abandon my life as a name partner in my own New York City law firm to live and write amid the laid-back lifestyle of Greece’s legendary Aegean island of Mykonos, a place I consider home and its people family.

When I started writing about Andreas Kaldis, I didn’t intend on becoming a chronicler of Greece’s trials and tribulations.  My original goal was to write a stand-alone novel telling the story of an island I knew intimately.  I wanted to talk about its people, culture and politics and chose the mystery-thriller format because it struck me as the best vehicle for exploring how a tourist island might respond to a threat to its new-found economic glory. 

My plans changed when Andreas effectively turned my debut novel, Murder in Mykonos, into Greece’s #1 best-selling English-language book, followed by attaining bestseller status across much of the United States. I’ve now published fourteen books in the series (more to come) and been honored by The New York Times as Greece’s thriller writer of record.

I owe a lot to Andreas, a second-generation cop and honest observer of his times who perseveres despite all that life and the system throw at him.  He’s intelligent, determined, shrewd and professional, with unfettered access to all levels of Greek society, be it the seamy underbelly of its degenerate bottom rung or the glittering lifestyles of its movers and shakers; a fearsome force in my collage of fast-paced novels probing Greece’s rich cultural heritage and enormously colorful present.  

Little did I realize in fashioning Andreas’ character and experience how much I would later call upon his fictional perseverance as inspiration in my real-life efforts to preserve his life story and my body of work in print.

 

In 2008, my debut Kaldis novel was published in Greece followed by the US, UK, and Germany; with a different publisher in each locale, some small, some behemoth.  By 2025 I had published fourteen Kaldis books with six different publishers, each with its own contractual form of “out of print” reversion clause. 

Those pesky clauses often lead to unhappy authors and serious differences of opinion with their publishers. Authors who claim their books are out of print want their rights back to go it alone or shop them elsewhere, and publishers are reluctant to give up their claim to potential streams of cash that require little if any further investment on their part.

As a lawyer I understand both positions. As an author, I JUST WANT MY RIGHTS BACK.

You might think my legal training offered me an advantage in negotiations.  I’m sure it did in some instances, but a far more significant factor in reaching a fair resolution proved to be each publisher’s institutional attitude toward the reversion of rights. 

In my case, all but one publisher agreed to revert its rights to me relatively soon after my incessant but courteous prodding led them to verify the facts I’d offered in support of my request. As for the one holdout, its intransigence for over a dozen years was a frustrating but minor inconvenience until one day it became a major one. That situation required a different approach.  One that had me seeking out someone higher up on the publisher’s decision-making chain of command who promptly saw the wisdom in avoiding a public kerfuffle.

Today, my entire series has found a new home and new life with Severn House.  It’s been quite a journey. But I’m happy where Andreas and I have ended up. Thank you, Severn House, soon to be part of Joffe Books … subject to due diligence.

––Jeff

 

Stacking the Zeds

 

What on earth is stacking the zeds I hear you ask. Well I could if I was close enough.

On this side of the pond, we say Zed not Zee  so stacking the zeds is….sleeping!

No doubt a phrase coined from seeing this kind of thing.

 

So it’s been a difficult year and I’m way behind in my CPD, so to catch up we went to the coldest hotel in the world ( IBIS in Birmingham) and attended two days of therapy Expo where I felt very old, and very out of touch.

                                               

                                                           I wasn't going in this room!

I couldn’t even use the headphones- they glowed a different colour depending what lecture you were listening to.  Or you could look at the graphics for one lecture while listening to another, get double CPD points and a migraine.

                                           

                                               

                                                       This looks good - World Duty Free.

And that didn’t take into account the farting elephant.

One of the lectures I  did attend, and listened with my ears, not headphones was the healing power of sleep, or as I think of it, how the body goes out of synch with lack of sleep. That’s called Disruption Of The Sleep Architecture. Seemingly.

So if you’ve been at the bar until 3am at Bouchercon, you don’t look awful the next morning because of the drink, it’s just the disruption of your sleep architecture.

Seriously though, it is a big problem with patients so I thought I’d pass on The Ten Golden Rules of a good night’s sleep.

Firstly, pay attention to your smartwatch and the sleep monitor. Ask yourself how you feel when you wake up? Good and ready to face the day- enough sleep. Dopey? That’s not enough sleep.  There’s a thing called the Pittsburg sleep index. I’m not putting the obvious joke in here.  A human being needs between 7 and 9 hours sleep.

Secondly, humans are dimmer switches not on/off switches. Good sleep requires a wind down.  So, no exercise three hours before bed. No internet or work two hours before bed. And no screen one hour before bed. Blue light supresses melatonin by 50% and that can delay sleep onset by 1.5 hours.

Blackout blinds are good and use the night mode or sleep mode on the phone.

Thirdly, bedroom should be cool between 16 and 18 degrees but your extremities should be warm. So what does that mean? Sleep naked but with gloves and socks on?

Fourthly, there is a 65% improvement in sleep quality if somebody does 150 minutes of moderate exercise per week, and it’s best if that is in three sessions. Movement is medicine but timing is everything. Exercise in the morning increases sleep at night. Exercise at night decreases sleep as the body is still in adrenaline mode.

Five, bad sleep can decrease your pain tolerance by 30%. And pain interrupts sleep so the vicious circle there is obvious. Patients up at three AM and spending money on QVC is no good for anybody except QVC. If you are sore, take a  paracetamol last thing at night as chronic pain severely disrupts the sleep architecture for a long time. People in pain wake during the night and catastrophize, mostly about the pain and the perception of the pain then escalates.

Six, human beings have a 90 minute sleep cycle. If you wake up after a complete cycle and before the next cycle begins, you will wake refreshed. If you wake mid cycle you will wake very groggy. Short wave sleep makes you happy and that’s an early event in the 90 minute cycle. This could be the secret of the power nap. And don’t nap after 3pm, as that could steal night time sleep.

Seven, caffeine has a 6 hour half life. So if you have a coffee at 3pm, 50% of that caffeine is still in your system at 9pm. There should really be a caffeine curfew. (Mine is 10 am). Tea, chocolate and many medications also contain caffeine.  Caffeine really disrupts an important chemical in the going to sleep chain.

Eight, no stressful situations after 7pm as REM sleep is adversely affected by stress. No arguments after 7pm, no stressful discussions after 7pm. The advice is to park it for the weekend. Hmmm, I really see that working with the whose turn is it to take the bins out debate.

Keep a notepad by the side of the bed and write down important things so it’s out your head, it’s on the page, and you can relax. Also, you can make a note of who is taking the bins out next.

Nine, consistency trumps duration. Go to bed and get up at the same time. Pay off sleep debt by going to bed early, don’t try and sleep in.  This is one of golden rules of a long life, getting up at the same time if you are at work or not.  Early birds catch the worms and all that.

Ten, you can’t pour water from an empty cup. All self care. The burnout rate of Health Care Professionals in the UK at the moment is at crisis levels, and that was reflected in the nature of the lectures available at the Expo. You can’t care for others if you don’t care for yourself first.

I think that was what was said. I couldn’t really hear all of it because of the noise of the farting elephant through the curtain. Now, I have to say that I have no idea what a farting elephant sounds like. This is the expertise of Stan and Michael.  But I suspect it sounds very similar to a portable hyperbaric oxygen chamber deflating.

I am determined to get that into a novel somehow.

A friend from Englandshire sent me this, just in case you could do with a laugh...

Sleep well.

Thanksgiving, Birthdays & A Question that Might be Too Personal for a Blogpost

Karen Odden -- every other Thursday 

When I was growing up, in Rochester, New York, November was (T.S. Eliot notwithstanding) the cruelest month. It was also my birthday month, and a dreary one because it marked the beginning of up to six months of winter, with snow and sleet and lowering clouds, black skies and frigid blasts as I walked to the bus stop every morning, trying not to slip because even when the plows came, they left an inch of packed ice on the streets, and afternoons of standing in the cold, waiting for the city bus to take me to my shift at the salad bar or the cash register at Ponderosa Steakhouse. (And you wonder why I moved to AZ.)

It's Thanksgiving today – and as we consider things to be grateful for – I’m thankful that living in Arizona means that November is the least cruel month, the start to our best weather. Second thing I'm thankful for: my family has lived in Phoenix for twenty years, which is long enough to accumulate a nice group of friends. A third thing is I turned 60 on November 11, and I received some cards that made me laugh. (I'm always grateful for a chuckle!) I've left the off-color ones aside, but just for fun, I'm going to share some here:

This last is the perfect one for a mystery writer, isn’t it? (Inside, my friend wrote, “Between your writing research, BBC, Britbox, and Acorn, we could do it!!”) 

While I’ll probably never be asked to hide a body for anyone (!), I have been meditating on friendship and loyalty for the past year, as I wrote this book about an all-women thieving gang. At one point, my protagonist Kit says, “There is a certain thickness to us thieves,” but the book is not only about loyalty among thieves; it's also about loyalty between friends, sisters, and lovers. 

Indeed, this year, I've spent considerable time (when I probably should be doing something more productive!) wondering, in a philosophical, looking-back-on-my-life-from-60 sort of way, What does loyalty look like, and how does it differ, depending on the kind of relationship? Is honesty the most important factor? A willingness to put someone else’s safety ahead of our own? A mutual acceptance of each other, with all the faults and “rag and bone shop” elements of the heart? Small, daily kindness? Steadiness of affection and behavior? A verbal commitment? Or something else? 

Coincidentally, I just finished reading a pretty remarkable (#1 NYT Bestseller) book by Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength: Finding Success, Happiness and Deep Purpose in the Second Half of Life. (Thanks to my friend Karen Greenberg for gifting me a copy.) Brooks is a social scientist, and I found this a thoughtful, compelling read. At one point, he talks about how vitally important our deep friendships are -- that they are "the single most important trait of Happy-Well elders" (in a study begun at Harvard in 1938 and carried forward). I love the metaphor he finds for these friendships -- so much so I'm going to share it here:

"The redwood, which can grow to 275 feet tall, has remarkably shallow roots--often only 5 or 6 feet deep. It seems to violate the laws of physics that they can stay upright for hundreds--even thousands--of years. That is, until you know one more fact: the redwoods grow in thick groves because their shallow roots are intertwined and, over time, fuse together. They start out as individuals and become one with others as they mature and grow." (p. 112)

I feel like loyalty is an aspect of our lives that has about a hundred facets, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. (Is this too personal and/or serious for a blogpost? I hope not.) If you're game, toss your thoughts about "what loyalty is" into the pot. And if you'd like to say something you're thankful for today, that's welcome too!

Spain’s National Disgrace: Smoking in Parks, Terraces, Café Doorways, and Around Children — Where Is the Law?

 Kwei--Wed

Friendship shouldn’t come with secondhand smoke

These moments that say it all

Oviedo, early morning: a boy—sixteen or seventeen—walks past me, taking long drags on a cigarette. No hesitation, no stigma. For him, it’s ordinary. For the rest of us, it’s secondhand smoke on a narrow street.

Sidewalk café, same week: a parent sits beside a stroller, cigarette in hand. The smoke drifts over the child. No one blinks. 

Inside a restaurant one day, trying to enjoy a meal, cigarette smoke wafted in from someone smoking in the doorway, because in Spain, not smoking “inside a restaurant” translates to “you can smoke in the doorway."

These aren’t outliers; they’re the daily texture of life in Spain in 2025. And teenagers and young parents are exactly where the country is losing time, money, and opportunity: stop smoking before it starts.

Spain’s policy says one thing. Daily life says another.

The man seen in the short video smoking in Oviedo’s San Francisco Park is, of course, gripped in nicotine addiction, which is itself a tragedy. However, that doesn’t excuse the secondary tragedy that I, and others around him in a public park, have to breathe the smoke from his cigarettes.

Spain has a national tobacco plan (2024–2027) and a draft law to extend smoke-free spaces outdoors (terraces, beaches, bus stops, playgrounds, stadiums) and to tighten rules on vapes. On paper, fine. In practice, non-smokers still inhale smoke at doorways and on terraces, and kids still see cigarettes as normal. Until rules are passed, implemented, and enforced, “policy” is paperwork.

Why Spain trails France, the UK, and the Netherlands

Make outdoor spaces truly smoke-free

• Campaigns people actually notice: France’s Mois sans tabac, England’s Stoptober, and the Dutch Rookvrije Generatie keep quitting visible year-round. Spain’s messaging is patchy and easy to miss.
• Outdoor protections you feel: France applies national outdoor restrictions with fines. Spain’s stricter outdoor rules are pending or uneven.
• End-game urgency: The UK is pushing a “smoke-free generation” (age of sale rises every year). Spain has goals, but no comparable end-game law.
• Price + packs (the big levers): Netherlands/France/UK pair higher prices with plain packaging (logo-free, standardized packs) that kills tobacco’s “cool.” Spain still allows branded packs and keeps prices comparatively low—exactly what sustains youth uptake.

Plain packs: Spain’s litmus test

Standardized, logo-free packs with ample warnings reduce appeal and nudge teens to quit. France/UK/NL do it. Spain doesn’t. As long as branding sells from the shelf, we’re recruiting the next generation.

What would actually protect non-smokers (and kids)

1. Pass + enforce smoke-free rules outdoors—terraces, beaches, bus stops, stadiums, playgrounds.
2. Adopt plain packaging and end branding at the point of sale.
3. Raise prices and restrict retail access (fewer outlets; supermarket bans).
4. Fund a national, annual quit drive with pharmacy coaching, apps, and hard-to-miss media.
5. Resource enforcement to enable municipalities and health inspectors to act.

If you live here—practical steps

Crosswalks stop cars, not smoke

• Terraces/doorways: ask staff for their no-smoking policy; choose venues that actually protect clean air and tell them that’s why you’re there.
• When smoke drifts indoors: request the hoja de reclamaciones and file a municipal health complaint—polite, documented pressure works.
• Family/friends who smoke: pharmacies carry NRT and can point to local cessation support.
• Vote with your feet and wallet: reward smoke-free businesses.

Bottom Line: Smoking in Spain, 2025

Non-smokers shouldn’t endure the tyranny of a minority. Until lawmakers remove tobacco’s marketing gloss, raise prices, and enforce outdoor bans, impose smoking bans on terraces, Spain will keep failing a basic public-health test: clean air for everyone—especially children.

Feeling thankful

With Crime in the Spotlight-er Allison Meldrum, Belinda Bauer
 and Elly Griffiths after our terrific Bloody Scotland event

Craig every second Tuesday.

Kia ora and gidday everyone, I hope you’ve all been enjoying some fabulous reads as we hurtle towards the holiday season and new year, whether new books or older ones. 

There are so many good and great crime and thriller fiction tales out there, including several terrific fresh voices that have joined the genre we love in 2025; plenty of cool authors to discover as well as enjoying old favourites.

THE VANISHING PLACE alongside some award-winning
Kiwi crime debuts, in Waterstones in London. 

An example: recently I read an outstanding debut from Scottish-Kiwi author Zoë Rankin, The Vanishing Place, a thriller which takes readers deep into the rugged, deadly magnificence of the New Zealand bush. It’s a compelling, atmospheric tale set on the ‘wild West Coast’ of Zoë's adopted homeland’s South Island, entwined with smalltown secrets, past sins, atypical upbringings, and religious fervour. An exceptionally strong sense of people and place. 

I got to meet Zoë several years ago at Rotorua Noir, our first-ever New Zealand international crime and thriller writing festival (sadly, our only one thusfar - due to COVID killing the planned sequel in 2021). A aspiring crime novelist, Zoë won a short story competition we ran, and was able to read her story onstage before our local and international authors and attendees, including Guests of Honour Alex Gray (Scotland), Kati Hiekkapelto (Finland), Lilja Sigurðardóttir (Iceland), and Michael Robotham (Australia). 

So it's terrific to see Zoë's debut hit shelves late this year - and even more so, for it to be so bloody good. Last week it was included in the Washington Post's Best Books of the Year lists, in some very fine crime thriller company including SA Cosby and Laura Lippman. I really loved both of Shawn and Laura's books too this year, King of Ashes and Murder Takes A Vacation. Very different kinds of crime novels, but exceptionally written. 

It's strange to think that we're already at the 'Best of the Year' time of the year. Hasn’t 2025 flown by? 

So much going on in the world, but still plenty to be grateful for, including the enjoyment provided by – and sometimes transformative power of – books and reading. I've certainly felt that recently, with a few less-than-ideal thigs going on in terms of  few relative's health issues and workplace/financial pressures. Like going for a long walk, especially in nature, diving into a good book has a remarkable calming or recentring effect for me. 

nature - it's pretty cool, even on grey London days

Walking in London has been fun lately. While the weather has been very average at times (Kiwi euphemism), the autumn, or Fall for north American pals, leaves have been in vivid colour for several weeks. Though they've started to all go the last week or two, turning into 'skeleton trees' as my 10-year-old has called them since she was little. 

No matter what's going on in life I always feel better after a good walk, especially in nature. Plenty to be grateful for. 

On that note, on Thursday my many American friends will be celebrating Thanksgiving, a holiday we grow up in New Zealand hearing about through books, TV, and movies, but is not traditionally part of our annual holiday or celebrations calendar. Having said that, I did participate in a big Thanksgiving Dinner for more than a dozen people in New Zealand back in 2012, as I had an American flatmate (housemate or roommate for US pals) at the time. 

An Auckland Thanksgiving

My flatmate Leah had a good group of friends who were fellow ex-pats (Americas working in Auckland), who I'd met and hug out with a bit that year, and we ended up hosting. Somehow even though it was mainly her friends and their visiting relatives, guess who ended up having to cook the large turkey? The Kiwi guy. Fortunately thanks to some orange slices, butter and seasonings under the skin, and no doubt a fair bit of beginner’s luck, and we got there. 

Even though it’s not a traditional holiday for me or my family, I do really love the explicit ‘giving thanks’ element of Thanksgiving. Gratitude is a vital thing, especially in turbulent times. Like walking and reading, it can re-centre us. 

So in keeping with the season, I’m certainly very thankful – among some more personal things – for books and reading and the many unexpected opportunities a childhood love for the crime and thriller genre had grown into and has brought me over the years. Just in the past few months alone I’ve got to be involved onstage with some terrific festivals in England and Scotland, interviewing outstanding writers from several continents (some onstage in front of enthusiastic audiences, some backstage for magazines and newspapers). I've got to catch up with old friends and hang out with some cool new people, and even had a few readers kindly buy and ask me to sign copies of books I've written or edited, Southern Cross Crime (which came out in 2020 to some lovely reviews and later awards recognition but strangled distribution and a string of cancelled 

I'm still not used to signing books myself, but
it is kinda a cool feeling (Bloody Scotland)

events during the height of COVID), and our Dark Deeds Down Under anthologies of Australian and New Zealand crime and thriller short stories. 

I've got to chat with some other really cool authors from all over the world for podcasts, which in the last few weeks includes: fellow Kiwi RWR McDonald, whose superb Ngaio Marsh Award for Best First Novel-winning debut, The Nancys and the Case of the Missing Necklace, was published in the UK last week; Icelandic star and fellow Rotorua Noir alumnus Lilja Sigurðardóttir, and the modern-day Queen of Crime herself, Val McDermid. 

I’ve also got to see, from afar, the Ngaio Marsh Awards, which I helped start in my home country of New Zealand back in 2010, recently celebrate its fifteenth anniversary at a fabulous event in Dame Ngaio’s hometown of Christchurch, complete with an improv murder mystery performed by a famous theatre group. It's been so cool to see New Zealand crime and thriller writing, aka #yeahnnoir, has grown in leaps and bounds since our awards began. I'm very grateful to everyone involved, as it has really been a passion project built on goodwill and the 'smell of a oily rag', as my Mum would say. I'm thankful for all our authors - both Kiwis and international authors who've read and supported our #yeahnoir storytellers and events, or even presented our awards in the case of the likes of Val McDermid, Denise Mina, Michael Robotham, and others. I'm grateful for all our judges who've given their time and expertise, all the libraries and librarians around the country who've hosted events, our long-time partners WORD Christchurch, and all the readers, critics, publishers, bloggers, media, and others who've embraced or spotlighted #yeahnoir. 

Kiwi authors Jared Savage, Claire Baylis, Denise Fitzpatrick
and Zoë Rankin at a Rotorua Mystery in the Library event

This year we also surpassed 120 free ‘Mystery in the Library’ events put on by the Ngaios for audiences all across Aotearoa (occasionally overseas) over the past decade, highlighting hundreds of local authors in local communities, and promoting the value of libraries to society. It's a fun full circle thing for me, given how much I loved libraries (my primary school and high school ones, and the local public library) growing up - I'd alternate my free time in the holidays between sports fields, home or friends' places, and the library as a youngster in Aotearoa.  The Ngaios were also sparked by visits in 2008 to two libraries thousands of miles apart, Vancouver and Papatoetoe. 

Christchurch City librarian Fiona with the first 
Dark Deeds Down Under anthology

I also worked on good chunks of both Southern Cross Crime and the first two Dark Deeds Down Under anthologies in a few local libraries in SW London, along with enjoying fun times and many cool activities there with my daughter over the years, from preschool Wriggle & Rhyme sessions, to meeting authors, to books clubs, and arts & crafts. 

So yeah, very thankful for libraries. 

How fortunate I feel to get to be involved in various ways in many wonderful book-related things, all over the world, from interviewing authors to judging awards to putting on events to helping authors get published, and more. So I’m thankful for all the wonderful authors out there, my fellow Murder is Everywhere columnists, and also and especially to the many, many  readers who love mystery and thriller fiction. Happy holidays, everyone. 

Until next time. Ka kite anō.

Whakataukī of the fortnight: 

Inspired by Zoe and her 'word of the week', I'm ending all my MIE posts by sharing a whakataukī (Māori proverb), a pithy and poetic thought to mull on as we go through life.

"Ehara taku toa i te toa takitahi, engari he toa takitini"

(My success should not be bestowed onto me alone, as it was not individual success but success of a collective)

Bringing booklovers together - our "Nefarious Newtown" event earlier this year
with Jennifer Palgrave, Carl Shuker, Jennifer Lane, and Helen Vivienne Fletcher