What Would You Do?
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Author's Note
New Releases (That I'm Excited About)!
Two Writers You Should Read
Events
It's Contest Time!
Other Writing
What Would You Do, Besides That?
It was after the Suffolk Mystery Author Festival (which was so much fun and so well run and you should definitely make a point of checking it out in 2024) had ended when a group of us were relaxing in the bar that the question came up:
If you had the freedom to do anything in your life, what would you do?
Of course, the obvious answer - among any group of writers - was to write full-time. That's the dream, albeit a worrisome one because, if it did happen, it would come with a lot of pressure. As I often say, this is a business without any guarantees of longevity, regardless of how successful someone is. Many bestsellers are forgotten a year later, much less five or ten years. Barely anyone remembers who won which award when. And the notion that certain books somehow stand the test of time assumes that time is some sort of magical judge of inherent quality.
So, while I would like the financial freedom to write full-time (even better if that freedom came from literary success), I know that staying published isn't something anyone can promise. Even with the freedom to write as much as you want.
Anyway, this question came up because one of the writers in this group has just opened a restaurant in Old Town Alexandria, and his hope is that, in addition to the restaurant doing well, it can serve as a sort of salon for writing groups and readings. That sounds really fun although, as Emily said in the opening of No Home for Killers, I'd rather gargle marbles than work in the restaurant industry.
But his good-hearted notion struck something in me, so I proposed the question to the group, with a caveat - this magical thing you could do had to be in accompaniment to writing. One person suggested running a writers' retreat (which, if you're interested, I'd recommend the retreats by Jess Lourey or Vanessa Lillie). Another person liked the idea of a podcast, which I've also thought would be fun, but I also think running a podcast seems deceptively hard and also I hate hearing my voice with the white hot passion of a thousand exploding suns. So there's that.
But there are things I've often considered:
A crime fiction festival in northern Virginia. Not that this area is wanting, with Fall for the Book in Fairfax and the Gaithersburg Book Festival in Maryland (along with festivals in Baltimore and Kensington and Annapolis), and not to mention the freaking National Book Festival put on by the Library of Congress, but it would be really cool to have a well-attended book festival for readers. And be the star of it and everyone to be all, "Eddie-Bear, you've truly outdone yourself."
An academic literary journal dedicated to genre. This idea sounds miserable, but I also think it's necessary. I've discussed this before, and at some point I should try and publish this thought (maybe in my academic literary journal!), but I'm of the firm belief that we're in a new literary movement based on identity, as opposed to style (as was the case with romanticism, post-modernism, etc.). This movement isn't really based in how a story is being told, but who is telling the story. People of color, queer writers, women, LGBTQ, neurodivergent, trans storytellers - all are contributing to a new wave of literature that's exciting and feisty and fearless, and I'd love to capture this movement and coin it "The New Truth." But, also, that seems like a lot of work. So, pass, probably.
The thing is, lately, I've been restless. No Home for Killers came out and I just finished the major edits of When She Left (more on that coming in a future newsletter) and, while I'm happy, I want to do more. I used to do a lot, and I think I had a good reputation for that - volunteering for organizations, running Noirs at the Bar on a frequent basis, serving on boards, trying to be a good member of the literary community. And then I got a bit burned out and, worse, I felt like people were seeing me as a facilitator, rather than a writer. But all I ever wanted was to write. If I could help others, that would truly be great, but I wanted to be known as a writer, foremost.
I still do a number of things for the community - I'm the bookstore liaison for Crime Writers of Color, I'm an active member of Sisters in Crime, I'm trying to help organize an anthology (with a small, dedicated, likeminded committee) to support LGBTQ causes. The Noirs the Bar still happen once or twice a year. But I'm also at the point where my writing finally has momentum...and I've fought for all this for so long that I want to sprint, rather than stroll. As my favorite musician says in a lyric, "don't want to slow momentum, afraid he might destroy it."
I was talking about this with my friend Eliza Nellums (you should check out her books, she's fantastic) and it occurred to me that the thing to do, the thing that would benefit me the most, would be to write. To write more, to write well, to write honestly and openly and smartly. To try to write books that people love to read, to try to write essays that provoke and support what I fervently believe, to try to write short stories that meet the high expectation I have for that form.
That was a surprising thing to realize - this idea that a dream is actually close. Sometimes you have these wishes, and the ones that are closest to your heart are the ones that have the highest chance of coming true.
EA
I mentioned above that information about When She Left is coming soon (I'm so excited about this book and love it so much and I think you will too)...but I have to mention how lovely it is that No Home for Killers reached FIVE THOUSAND REVIEWS! I've never had five thousand of ANYTHING! This is so exciting! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my book. And if you read it and enjoyed it and want to leave a review, just click the graphic below. And, of course, if there's anything you didn't like, just lie.
Psychology student Olivia Eriksen’s family is notorious among true-crime buffs. Faced with a legacy of psychopathy that spans generations, Olivia has spent much of her academic life trying to answer one chilling question: Nature or nurture?
Although she’s kept a safe distance from her blood relatives for years, Olivia agrees to attend a weekend reunion. After all, her fiancé is eager to meet his future in-laws, and the gathering may give her a chance to interview her elusive grandfather about the family traits.
But nothing is ever peaceful among the Eriksens for long. Olivia’s favorite cousin is found dead in a nearby lake. Then another family member disappears. As a violent storm isolates the group further, Olivia’s fears rise faster than the river.
And an uninvited guest is about to join the party. True-crime podcaster Birdie Tan has uncovered a disturbing mystery in her latest investigation—and she’s following it right to the Eriksens’ mountain resort. There’s a deadly twist in the family plot that even Olivia doesn’t see coming.
Secret Staircase Construction just finished their first project with Tempest Raj officially a part of the team—a classic mystery novel-themed home interior. Their client is now ready to celebrate her new life without her cheating ex-husband, famous mystery author Corbin Colt. First up, a party, and Tempest and Grandpa Ash are invited to the exclusive mock séance to remove any trace of Corbin from the property—for good. It's all lighthearted fun until Corbin's dead body crashes the party.
The only possible suspects are the eight people around the séance table—a circle of clasped hands that wasn't broken. Suspicion quickly falls on Grandpa Ash, the only one with actual blood on him. To prove her beloved grandfather’s innocence, Tempest must figure out what really happened—and how—or Ash will be cooking his delectable Indian and Scottish creations nevermore.
Murder, not pleasure, greets Jude Dillane when she takes a vacation from her East Village restaurant and embarks on a luxurious Mediterranean cruise. On board, a horrific death shatters her dreams of a romantic getaway, and a reconnection with her college friend, Monica Delmar, entangles her in a baffling investigation that leads Jude into stormy seas.
It's all hands on-deck as Jude helps to figure out who’s responsible for turning this opulent voyage into a death trap. Are the theft of a valuable diamond ring and the discovery of a cryptic notebook related? Jude makes waves as she looks into everyone, from Monica’s close friend, Chief Officer Damian Carstairs, to the ship’s photographer, to a smarmy casino host, to discover who is responsible for the crimes, all while finding herself in deep water. Will the shocking revelations rock the boat and sink it forever?
Some of the most iconic, hard-boiled Irish detectives in fiction insist that they are not detectives at all. Hailing from a region with a cultural history of mistrust in the criminal justice system, Irish crime writers resist many of the stereotypical devices of the genre. These writers have adroitly carved out their own individual narratives to weave firsthand perspectives of history, politics, violence, and changes in the economic and social climate together with characters who have richly detailed experiences. Recognizing this achievement among Irish crime writers, Babbar shines a light on how Irish noir has established a new approach to a longstanding genre. Beginning with Ken Bruen’s Jack Taylor, who rejects the detective title in favor of “finder”—a reference to Saint Anthony of Padua in the context of a traditionally secular form—Babbar examines the ways Irish authors, including John Connolly, Tana French, Alex Barclay, Adrian McKinty, Brian McGilloway, Claire McGowan, Gerard Brennan, Stuart Neville, Steve Cavanagh, and Eoin McNamee, subvert convention to reclaim their stories from a number of powerful influences: Revivalism, genre snobbery, cultural literary standards, and colonialism. These writers assert their heritage while also assuming a vital role in creating a broader vision of justice.
Boston might be white with snow, but there’s nothing but a winter’s darkness for Shane Cleary, a former cop, veteran, and reluctant PI. There’s an international war within the mafia over drugs, and he has been asked to find the nephew of the local crime boss. When federal agencies descend on the city and order the police department to stand down on a homicide, the BPD reaches out to Shane for answers.
Shane’s past in Vietnam comes to haunt him when the corpse of a veteran is found on Boston Common, frozen to death in front of the State House. Then, a former army buddy comes to town looking for justice. His presence endangers all that Shane holds dear.
Shane must come to terms with a side of himself he thought he had left behind. The mounting body count and circumstances compel him to play a game of Liar’s Dice. Can he deceive and detect deception around him? Protect those he loves, while he solves the cases?
November, 1942. Betty Ahern is doing her part for the war, working at Bell Aircraft while her older brother and fiancé are fighting overseas, but she really wants to be a private detective like her movie idol Sam Spade. When sabotage comes to the plant, and a suspected co-worker hires her to clear her name, Betty sees it as her big chance.
As her questions take her into Buffalo’s German neighborhood, Kaisertown, Betty finds herself digging into a group that is trying to resurrect the German-American Bund, a pro-Nazi organization. Have they elevated their activities past pamphlets and party-crashing?
When the investigation leads Betty and her two friends into a tangle of counterfeiting and murder, as well as the Bund, the trio must crack the case--before one or more of them ends up in the Buffalo River…wearing concrete overshoes.
Paloma has been watching the Grand Vespertilio Show her entire life. Grand, America’s most beloved horror host showcases classic, low-budget and cult horror movies with a flourish, wearing his black tuxedo and hat, but Paloma has noticed something strange about Grand, stranger than his dark make-up and Gothic television set.
After Paloma’s husband, a homicide detective, discovers an obscure movie poster pinned on a mutilated corpse on stage at the Chicago Theater, she knows that the only person that can help solve this mystery is Grand. When another body appears at an abandoned historic movie palace the deaths prove to be connected to a silent film, lost to the ages, but somehow at the center of countless tragedies in Chicago.
The closer Paloma gets to Grand she discovers that his reach is far greater than her first love, horror movies, and even this film. And she soon becomes trapped between protecting a silent movie that’s contributed to so much death in her city and the life of her young son.
After her role in taking down a well-placed mole inside the CIA, Agent Lyndsey Duncan arrives in London fully focused on her newest Russian asset, deadly war criminal Dmitri Tarasenko. That is until her MI6 counterpart, Davis Ranford, personally calls for her help.
Following a suspicious attack on Russian oligarch Mikhail Rotenberg's property in a tony part of London, Davis needs Lyndsey to cozy up to the billionaire's aristocratic British wife, Emily Rotenberg. Fortunately for Lyndsey, there's little to dissuade Emily from taking in a much-needed confidante. Even being one of the richest women in the world is no guarantee of happiness. But before Lyndsey can cover much ground with her newfound friend, the CIA unveils a perturbing connection between Mikhail and Russia's geoplitical past, one that could upend the world order and jeopardize Lyndsey's longtime allegiance to the Agency.
Istanbul, 1926: After her archeologist father makes a clandestine journey abroad, Jane and the dapper Mr. Redvers trace his footsteps while signs of danger loom back home in the United States. They’re greeted at their destination by Aunt Millie and unsettling news: Professor Wunderly was on a mission to locate the lost heart of Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent—a legendary relic from the Ottoman Empire said to possess potent mystical powers—then vanished completely, leaving behind his unpacked luggage, a perplexing riddle, and an eerie mystery Jane must solve to keep her loved ones safe.
What starts off as a clear-cut investigation becomes an intercontinental game of cat and mouse as Jane realizes a gang of nameless figures have been stalking her every move from Turkey to Hungary. And it seems even helpful friends can’t be trusted for long when a man is stabbed to death on the Orient Express to Budapest. With Redvers by her side and few clues to rely on, Jane’s desperate search for her father leads to centuries-old secrets and an unidentified enemy who could make her disappear like the missing Sultan’s heart . . .
It seemed like everyone in crime fiction was excited for Anjili Babbar's first book, Finders, a study of Irish crime fiction. Partially we were excited because Irish fiction, in general, has informed so much of our studies and direction in American literature, but also because Anjili has been a force for good in the crime fiction world. In addition to a stalwart supporter of so many writers, Anjili runs the Dashiell Hammett Society, which brings writers to students and readers to discuss their work. She has that wonderfully rare mix of an academic's eye for literature, coupled with a fan's enthusiasm and the flair of an accomplished writer, and I'm happy to welcome her to this edition of "2 Writers."
And the writer Anjili Babbar recommends?
It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of Gerard Brennan’s work—I have written about it and taught it, and my students appreciate it so much that they have invited him to speak at Dashiell Hammett Society events—twice. Brennan’s ability to create atmosphere is second to none: he fully immerses readers in the fear and claustrophobia associated with poverty and historical violence. There is no easy solution in his books, but there is always a note of optimism for a better future and a gentle but persistent suggestion that the history of conflict in Northern Ireland can provide universally applicable lessons about the dangers of tribalism and anesthetization to human suffering.
To learn more about these authors, click on the photos above. And, as an FYI, Anjili Babbar will be moderating a panel at the Washington Writers Conference featuring S.A. Cosby, Alma Katsu, and me!
Malice Domestic
Malice Domestic is the premiere writing conference for traditional mysteries, which is not the kind of thing I write, but it's full of fun writers and great people, which is the kind of thing I enjoy. I'm moderating a panel at the conference on Friday on historical fiction. If you live in the DC region and are interested in traditional mysteries, come check it out!
It's contest time! The monthly contest winner wins copies of the books listed in my "Two Writers You Should Read" segment. And the winner is...
lori___0@yahoo.com
Congrats, and keep your eye out for a separate e-mail from me!
Earlier this month I reviewed Kwei Quartey's Last Seen in Lapaz for the Washington Post, which was a dak novel (books about sex trafficking are rarely lighthearted) but a necessary one.
And I also had the fortune to do a podcast with the lovely folks (Torie Clarke and David Aldridge) on Chatter on Books! Which is absolutely one of the best book podcasts around. Although another podcast I did, the Bookshop Podcast, gave it a run for its money. Good times! I talked a stupid amount.
Until next time, much love and happy reading!