For the Love of Crime Fiction

 by: Nina Milton

 

When I tell people I write crime fiction, the one thing I’m not hoping to hear is, “Oh, I neverread crime fiction.”

Not because I want them to buy my books, but because I simply don’t believe them. Of course they read crime fiction. They just don’t know it. No way would I admit what I’m actually thinking, which is, “that’s a whole heap of baloney, pal – the literary equivalent of the excrement of the male cow.”

I belong to a local reading club, ten or fifteen of us discussing the books we’ve loved, and sometimes I get that sort of response when introduced to a new member. “A crime fiction series? That won’t interest me, I never read it.” The second part of their little speech hangs in the air, unsaid but perfectly clear– “Crime fiction is way below my reading standard.”

Even when I overhear whisperings in the reading club shadows, “ah, Nina Milton, she’s a novelist with a big US publisher, you know…but it’s onlycrime fiction…” I don’t bite. I don’t want to be accused of being a “precious author” who can’t take a critique of their work, I just wait, like a cheetah, poised at the edge of the Savannah eyeing up the wildebeests, for the moment they start talking about books…“I love the work of Charles Dickens…” Or, “I’m very into William Faulkner.”

 

 

Then I point out, the smile plastered over my face, that Charles Dicken’s Oliver Twist was a story of street kids abused and corrupted by gangs of professional criminals.

 

 

 

 

 

Bleak House was a legal thriller that Grisham would have probably been proud to write and The Mystery of Edwin Brood…well, it’s in the title, you fool. As for Nobel Laureate Faulkner, not only did he work on the screenplay of The Big Sleep, but wrote a thriller called Sanctuary.

Edgar Allen Poe

Then there’s Dicken’s friend Wilkie Collins, who’s every novel was a mystery thriller, plus Patricia Highsmith, Edgar Allan Poe and Graham Greene, all writers now studied at college. 

Donna Tartt produces something criminal every ten years or so, to delight serious readers and crime fans alike, recently winning acclaim across the world for The Goldfinch, the story of a stolen painting. And, as if to prove my point, Scottish novelist Kate Atkinson recently won literary prizes for her surprising and memorable book,Life After Life, straight after publishing  her “Jackson Brodie” series about a DI turned private eye. These have already been adapted for British TV as Case Histories, and Shonda Rhimesis developing a pilot called The Catchfor the US market.

And did you know that Mark Twain’s Huck and Tom solved a murder and collected $2000 in Tom Sawyer, Detective? Twain was also the first writer to use fingerprints in his short story, The Thumbprint and What Became of It.

We haven’t even got started on the many crime novels which have been showered with accolades from the literary giitterati; writers like Dashiell Hammett, Elmor Leonard, Raymond Chandler,  Steig Larsson, Peter Hoeg, Georges Simenon. And of course, P D James, who, in her latter years, also wrote a mystery sequel to Pride and Prejudice, Death Comes to Pemberley.

In fact, it is difficult to write a book, even one that is likely to reach literary heights, without there being an element of mystery within it, without it being thrilling, and without, underneath all of this, some sort of dark secret. I believe it’s the crime writer who best reflects their society, and all shades.

In any case, it’s hard to define exactly what makes a book “good literature”, but I think most people would go with the books which raise questions for the reader, especially about the validity of society’s morals, which is written with style, so that every sentences gets you thinking, and yet is beautiful in its own right.

I don’t pretend to be a literary writer, but I do attempt, right from the start of plotting each of my “Shaman Mystery” novels, to explore the themes I’ve chosen with some depth, and within that, to examine what it is to be human. I do that by choosing crimes that are deeply evil in some way, and observing how people cope, react. In the Moors examines the appalling crime of pedophilia. Unraveled Visionslooks at how desperate people seek a better life in a new country to only become exploited. Beneath the Tor,due for release in December 2015, will investigate the “legal hi” problems and mental health issues. Because my heroine is a shamanic therapist with a big heart, I always feature the victims and their families in my books, as well as the law enforcers and the criminals. These are the people Sabbie Dare is interested in helping.

I think P. D. James put it well; A detective story can give a much truer picture of the society in which it’s written than a more prestigious literature…crime fiction confirms our belief, despite some evidence to the contrary, that we live in a rational comprehensible and moral universe.

 

                                                            Ends.



 
 
 
 



 

 

 

The 1st Shaman Mystery, IN THE MOORS -“Sabbie Dare is the most compelling protagonist I’ve met this year...Milton’s tale is riveting.”—Library Journal (starred review)

The 2nd Shaman Mystery, UNRAVELED VISIONS

“[A] thrilling tale.” —RT Book Reviews

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"The depictions of shamanic journeying are vivid and authentic. Reading BENEATH THE TOR kept me up at night much later than I wanted, because I could not bear to miss the next bit."—RONALD HUTTON, AUTHOR OF THE TRIUMPH OF THE MOON, SHAMANS, AND PAGAN BRITAIN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nina Milton (Wales) has been publishing short stories and children’s books for thirty years. She’s won many literary competitions, including the Crossroads Competitions, Kent Festival Prize, and the Wells Literary Shirt Story Competitions. She enjoys exploring the magical landscapes of Britain with her husband, James. Visit her blog at http://KitchenTableWriters.Blogspot.com

 

 



Expose Yourself

Last night I made spicy Thai chicken curry and served it over quinoa. So what, you ask? For one thing, I am definitely not a foodie and even more assuredly, not a great chef. B) My mother was a terrible cook whose idea of a gourmet meal involved ground beef smothered in a can of Campbell’s vegetable soup. And thirdly, I spent my formative cooking years in Nebraska. For the uninitiated: most indigenous Nebraska meals involve a slab of meat, a copious serving of potatoes, bread and gravy, Jello to represent the fruit/vegetable group and anything with sour cream, cream of mushroom soup and/or Velveeta. Finish it off with thick hunks of cake or pie.

In other words, cooking low-calorie, high-nutrition, spicy, delicious, ethnic meals doesn’t come naturally to me. So how did I reach this gastronomic pinnacle? Completely by accident.

Several years ago I escaped from rural Nebraska to Boulder, Colorado. I can’t quote the vegetarian to carnivore ratio in the Republic of Boulder but we’d be safe to say it’s higher than in Nebraska. I experienced Indian restaurants, vegetarian deli’s, Vietnamese and even, gasp, sushi.

A string of (fortunate or unfortunate depending on how I feel on any given day) events brought me to Flagstaff where I spend my days working for an environmental non-profit. I’ve gone out in the field with real, live vegans. Exposure involved more than the weather. They’ve fed me soyrizo and scrumptious hummus burritos. One of them even gave me my first jar of curry paste. Without noticing it, my palate and recipe list expanded. It now seems natural to serve eggplant stuffed portabella mushrooms with sun-dried tomatoes and call it a meal.

And so it is with writing. (Did you wonder when I was going to get around to that?) Surprisingly, I didn’t start out with the knowledge to write a publishable book. I didn’t even know what ingredients a person might combine to make a good novel. My first attempts resembled a dried up flank steak with a side of canned peas and overly sweet bread pudding smothered in heavy cream.

I started going to conferences, reading books on writing, experimenting, entering contests, going to critique groups. I exposed myself to all manner of writing influences. I’m now getting ready to serve up a savory read with a blend of spices far more interesting than the salt and pepper I limited myself to previously.

I’m no Wolfgang Puck in the kitchen and any time I get a meal on the table it’s still a minor miracle. I admit I’m not an Ann Patchett, Barbara Kingsolver or John Irving. But if I keep exposing myself (not THAT kind of exposing—mind out of the gutter, please) maybe I’ll keep producing an ever more tasty dish—uh--book. Who knows, I might even try fried tofu next time.

What about you? What kind of silly extended metaphors can you come up with for your writer’s journey?

Ageless Fiction?

My son Nate came home for a visit in June and was surprised to learn that I've never read The Fountainhead.

Truthfully, I couldn't really believe it either. It's one of those books everyone has read at some point or another, right? One of those books I'd always planned to tackle, along with War and Peace.

"You really ought to read it." It's funny when your kids start talking like this. Echoes of all the things you've told them for the past twenty-one years circle back. You want to do a little happy dance, because here is your middle kid -- the one who was a wee bit challenging there for a while -- and he wants to discuss a book with you.

Nate went back to Burlington, Vermont, where he goes to college (and works in the summer) and a few weeks later I found myself there unexpectedly. We had dinner together and he again asked me about The Fountainhead. When I confessed I didn't have it yet, he insisted on making me a copy of the first ten chapters to listen to on the ride home to Maine. "This will get you started," he said, handing me a disk.

The next morning I began my journey east on Rt. 2, the sounds of The Fountainhead filling my Toyota. Ten minutes into it, I was hooked. I listened for the whole six hour ride and then grabbed the book out of the library the minute I got home.

I'm only about halfway through, but I can safely agree with Nate's assessment -- The Fountainhead is astounding. I could probably blog about nothing else for several years and still have plenty to say about the strongly drawn characters, riveting story lines, and complex philosophical themes. The language is rich (these are the kinds of sentences you want to read out loud to someone else, just to savor how finely crafted they are) and I can't begin to describe the author's use of metaphor. Clearly Ayn Rand was a masterful storyteller.

What fascinates me (and Nate as well) is how Rand managed to write in such a timeless style. Despite the occasional reference to a "speakeasy" or a "switchboard," her story of two architects struggling to succeed in Manhattan feels as if it is happening right now. Granted, no one is using a cell phone, writing a blog, or stopping at a Starbucks, and yet the setting seems contemporary and fresh.

Why is that?

Is it precisely because there is so little technology integral to the story? Or is it because she focused on universal human truths and questions? Do we, as writers, care about how our novels age? Is that even something you can think about while writing a book?

How will your mysteries age, and does it matter?

WE ARE WHAT WE WRITE… REALLY?!!

Darrell James

A neighbor of mine recently read my collection of short stories, Body Count: A Killer Collection. When I saw her some days later she commented that she liked the stories but that they made her wonder about me (the author)—the inference being that because I write about murder (sometimes from a somewhat dark perspective) that I must somehow be as secretly deranged as the characters I create.

Moi? I’m a guy who walks around ants on the sidewalk so as not to spoil their day.

In my introduction to the book, I did offer this defense: “I am less intrigued by murder itself, than I am with the premeditation that leads to it. In other words, at what point in the course of human conflict does murder become the solution of choice.”

Ahhh, but, then, perhaps, it was no defense at all, but yet another clever attempt by the author to conceal his darker, more devious, intent.

I know I’m not the first writer to be held in suspicion of his work. In Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir Of The Craft, he indicates that the he is often ask why he chooses to write horror (given such obvious talent for writing). His answer is: “What makes you think I can write anything else?”

Perhaps, good Stephen has looked inside himself and glimpsed the demon that conjures the work.

But I doubt it.

In real life, I abhor violence of any kind. And find it uncomfortable to even be in the presence of an argument.

And, if it were so, one of us (Stephen or I) would have already been caught skulking through some dark alley or climbing through some unlocked bedroom window.

So, what’s behind the fascination for writing stories of murder? And what does it say about the readers who love to read them?

Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts. (I’d truly like to know who among you to be on the lookout for.)

YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST

Darrell James

I am often asked how I came to be a mystery writer. The assumption is usually that I must have wanted to be one all my life. Truth is, it never occurred to me, until late in life, and until someone else brought it to my attention. (Though I always admired those who wrote the stories I loved).

I suppose I have to say that I had always been in search of something. Just what, I was never sure.

Then, sometime in the mid-nineties, on a whim, my wife and I took a community college class on acting. “It was something to do,” we told ourselves.

As part of our course assignment, each of us was given the task of writing a one page monologue on a southwest character that we were to perform on the last day of class. I went about it without a clue what I was doing, creating a character named “Necktie”.

Necktie was the old west equivelant of a modern-day skid-row derelict. He lived under the wooden boardwalks and porches in a fictional mining town called Last Hope, Arizona. He panhandled the street and worked odd jobs to pay for his daily drink. And was known to be good with knots. Often preparing the ropes for the gallows, whenever the need arose. His name was derived from the hangman’s noose he wore around his neck, to showcase his talents.

Darrell as Necktie


On the last day of class, we all came in costume and delivered our monologues with all the skills we’d derived from eight weeks of diligent study. After class everyone told me that my character, Necktie, was definitely the best. More imaginative and interesting than all of the others. Whether it was true or not, the accolades afforded me a great deal of pride.

I can’t say that I immediately jumped into writing. (All great ideas need time to percolate, you know.) I went on to perform in numerous community theatre productions, and eventually my wife’s skill and interest in acting took us to Los Angeles and Hollywood. (But that’s another story.)

What stayed with me was the swell of pride and thrill of achievement I got (and still get) thinking about my first character, Necktie. Little Necktie, with all his foibles and antics. And, on some daydreaming afternoon, when the time was right, the kettled-idea of becoming a fiction writer finally came to a boil.

I have written numerous characters since that time. Some thirty short stories, four novels and an original screenplay to date. My story of the little priest, Father Vega, comes to mind. So does the, not so little, Little Earl from Motherhouse. And there are more favorites. And will be more to come.

My novel, Nazareth Child, scheduled for release in September of this year, features the determined, young, missing-persons investigator, Del Shannon. Del is my latest secret love. But, no matter how many characters I have created, or might create in the future, none will completely hold the same place on the mantle as Necktie.

Necktie was my first and for that he will always be remembered fondly.

What about you? As a writer, still remember your first character? As a reader, still remember the first character to capture your heart?




No, not Shakespear!
Darrell as extra in
film Posse, Mardi
Gras scene.

Nazareth Child is forthcoming in September from Midnight Ink. This debut novel sends Del Shannon on a quest into the clannish hill country of Kentucky to find the mother she’s never known. There the infamous faith healer, Silas Rule, seems to hold the secrets to the past. Is her mother alive or dead? And can Del survive the truth? Look forward to a lasting relationship with the girl who doesn’t back down from danger.

National What Day???

Are you ready for the big day? No, I’m not talking about Christmas. I’m talking about a national holiday coming up in just two days. December 16^th is National Chocolate Covered Anything Day. What? You never heard of it? To tell the truth, neither did I until the other day when I was flipping through the pages of a women’s magazine.

So I decided to do a bit of detective work. After all, I write mysteries. I should be able to find out who came up with the idea of a Chocolate Covered Anything Day and who declared it a national holiday. I struck out, though. After extensive Googling, all I could find is that no one seems to know who started the holiday or who nationalized it.

Finding no answers, I did what any mystery writer worth her Milk Duds would do -- I made up a plausible scenario:

Hard times had fallen on the Willie Whatsit’s Chocolate Factory. Sales were down. Stocks were plummeting. All because some upstart had opened up a jelly bean pizza operation across the street. People were stuffing themselves full with jelly bean pizzas, to the point that no one had room for chocolate any more.

So Willie Whatsit locked his marketing people in the conference room with nothing but a white board, their brown bag lunches, and a chocolate fondue. He told them they’d have to stay there until they came up with a way to make people put down their jelly bean pizzas and gobble up chocolate once again.

There they were, seven morose men and women, nibbling away on their sandwiches while trying to save both their jobs and the company. No one had a clue how to make chocolate more appealing to the masses. After all, how can you compete with jelly bean pizzas?

“We might as well give up now and trudge over to the unemployment office,” said Neville Bottomworth, the most morose of the morose marketers.

“You have mayo on the side of your mouth,” said Helen Harrowsmith, tossing a napkin toward Neville.

But Helen was no all-star when it came to pitching napkins, and Neville had to reach across the table to retrieve the napkin. That’s when it happened. A slice of bacon fell from his BLT -- right into the fondue pot!

Not knowing whether Willie Whatsit would give them a dinner break, Neville wasn’t about to forego his bacon, chocolate-covered though it now was. He fished the slice out of the fondue pot and popped it in his mouth.

“Eww,” said Helen.

“No, it’s really not bad,” said Neville.

With that, Orville Tessmacher dipped a corner of his bologna sandwich in the melted chocolate and took a bite. One by one the others followed, dipping a bagel, a pickle, a potato chip, even a forkful of Ramen noodles into the melted chocolate.

“By George, we’ve got it!” shouted Neville.

Thus was born Chocolate Covered Anythings. And since Willie Whatsit was good friends with Congressman Calvin Crudrupp, a generous donation to the congressman’s upcoming campaign secured a congressional act, declaring December 16 ^th as National Chocolate Covered Anything Day.

Hey, it could’ve happened like that!

And since I know you’re all probably dying for some chocolate covered bacon, here’s a recipe:

Chocolate-Covered Bacon

Ingredients

8 slices thick cut bacon

1 bag semisweet chocolate chips
4 ounces white chocolate chips

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F.

2. Place the bacon on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake 20 minutes.

3. Let bacon cool for 5 minutes, then transfer to a plate lined with paper towels to absorb the extra fat.

4. Melt the chocolate chips in the microwave, stirring until smooth and completely melted.

5. Using tongs, dip the bacon into the melted chocolate, coating all sides. Place on wax paper covered cookie sheet.

6. Melt white chocolate in microwave. Drizzle over bacon.

7. Refrigerate bacon until chocolate is hard.