This has not been an easy blog to write.
Not because of topic or lack of inspiration, but for this reason:
What this means is that I’ve been away, and
now I’ve returned the cat is determined not to let me out of her sight – or
reach – for long. It’s very sweet, but a bit of a bugger when it comes to
typing.
I’ve been to Raleigh before – a fact which
seemed to surprise many Americans. I did some photoshoots there, back when I
was still a photojournalist. It’s a clean, safe-feeling city, with a great
choice of restaurants, although I confess I spent the majority of my visit this
time inside the conference hotel.
I’ve been to quite a few of these events since
my first Bouchercon in Toronto in 2004, but this time was particularly special
for me because I was privileged to be one of the two International Guests of
Hono(u)r. (Ably interviewed, I might add, by our own Jeff Siger.) The organisers even gave me this beautiful hand-turned oak bowl just for turning
up. I wasn’t expecting anything, so was glad I’d dragged out a frock for the
Anthony Awards anyway.
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| pic courtesy of John Thoma Bychowski |
It was a weekend of highlights, including
getting to spend a little time with one of my literary heroes, Dr Kathy Reichs.
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| pic courtesy of Ali Karim |
Another was being present at the official
launch of the Bouchercon short story anthology:
Murder
Under The Oaks, edited by Art Taylor. Around eighteen of the contributors
to the anthology were attending Raleigh, so Art decided we would each read a
very short extract from our story to make up the panel event.
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| pic courtesy of Gigi Pandian |
My story, called ‘Kill Me Again Slowly’ is
a Charlie Fox tale, but a little out on a limb compared to my usual fare. Just
let it be said that the opening scene takes place in Rick’s Café Americain in Casablanca, where Charlie and her
principal are at a table for six with Dorothy Parker, Groucho Marx, Marilyn
Monroe and Oscar Wilde. This is the bit I chose:
As we weaved back toward our table, I
murmured into my client’s ear, “If it all goes bad, you know what to do.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I let my gaze wash across the patrons, the staff and
the musicians. Nobody was watching us too closely, or trying too hard to avoid
doing so. Nobody’s attitude had changed. But I was only too aware that I was in
a situation where nothing could be trusted.
“If you want to know what God thinks of money,” Dorothy
Parker was saying to the table at large as my host politely handed me into my
seat, “just look at the people he gave it to.”
Marilyn Monroe gave a breathy giggle and said, “Oh, I
don’t want to make money, I just want to be wonderful.”
Dorothy Parker rolled her eyes.
Airily sipping his champagne, Oscar Wilde said, “Who,
being loved, is poor?”
Groucho Marx rested his elbow on the table, his chin
on his cupped palm, and gazed at Marilyn Monroe. “Marry me and I’ll never look
at another horse.”
“Oh!” Marilyn Monroe glared at him, threw down her
serviette and leaped to her feet. “Respect is one of life’s greatest
treasures.” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I mean, what does it all
add up to if you don’t have that?”
She leaned down for her purse, but when she
straightened there was a bolo machete with an eighteen-inch blade in her right
hand and she held it like it wasn’t her first time.
And let me just say that all the dialogue
for those ‘real’ characters was taken from things they are quoted as actually
having said. It was huge amounts of fun to put together.
From Raleigh I went up to NYC, where I got
to spend a little time with the charming Lee Child and his wife, Jane.
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| pic courtesy of Linda Shockley |
And also to hang around with Linda Shockley and
enjoy the view of the Hudson from the roof of her apartment building; and
deliver a lecture at the Center
For Fiction as part of their Master Class series, at the kind invitation of the delightful Jonathan Santlofer.
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| pic courtesy of Linda Shockley |
Then it was down to Daytona Beach in
Florida to stay with a very dear friend. Why Daytona? Well, this is one very
good reason:
And this is another:
Daytona in October is home to BiketoberFest, and if you
like to watch people cruising round on hot-rodded Harleys, that’s the place to
go. I could not believe the size of the chrome front wheels on some of those
bikes. Nor could I imagine how they would go around corners, but that’s another
story …
And just in case I was getting used to all
that sunshine, my last day in Florida was a fitting preparation for a return to
the UK.
This week’s Word of the Week is Gardyloo, meaning the act of discarding
waste substance from a height. It was used as a warning cry often heard in medieval
Scotland as slops were emptied out of upper floor windows into the street
below. The word is a corruption of the French, “Garde à l’eau!” – “Mind the water!” but may possibly where we get
the word ‘loo’ from to describe the lavatory. It was still in use as late as the 1930s and ’40s when many people still had no inside toilet.
From the village the story develops and leads to Paris. Paris in 1989, and the links to an old crime reverberating in murder. In her investigation Aimée explores the 8th arrondissement. You know it for the Champs Elysée, the Arc de Triomphe and the haute couture and shops de luxe near Etoile. But Aimée, who's supposed to be studying and hitting the books in a competitve medical course sees the seamier side of le jet set clubs behind the Champs Elysée.
I'd never intended to write a prequel, at least consciously, however at the end of Murder on the Champs de Mars life changing things happened to Aimée Leduc and to someone close in her life. I couldn’t see much further ahead for her except from the Emergency room in the hospital where this person close to her, who betrayed her (she believes) and had shot, is fighting for their life. Conflicted, heartbroken, all I knew was that Aimée was at a crossroads. I didn’t know where she’d go from here. My editor asked me what would happen to Aimée, I think I mumbled I hadn’t much of a clue where Aimée’s life would take her now. Perfect segue for a prequel, my editor said in that brilliant way she has. She said she’d always wondered about Aimée’s origin story, on her younger days, what made her into the private detective (apart from inheriting the agency from her father) she’d become. Where did her dog, Miles Davis, come from and how did she find her partner, René Friant, and how did her vintage Chanel style emerge. Also, she asked, couldn’t we have a chance to meet Aimée’s father, Jean-Claude who we’ve heard about for 15 books and see him together with her mother and glimpse that love and attraction that drew these two very different people together. So in Murder on the Quai, we get to meet her father whose death has affected her in the rest of the series. We also meet her grandfather, Claude, who I’ve sort of fallen in love with - he’s a bon vivant, loves good food and haunting the art auctions and has a mistress.
I hope if I'm in a bookstore or library near your 'ood on the book tour please drop in - love to see you. PS Anna Maria will be grilling moi and Lisa Brackmann at the Bryant Library in NYC! Can't wait AM!
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