Coming Soon!

I’m so pleased to announce that I am re-releasing Book One of my Italian Kitchen Mysteries, Murder and Marinara on June 21—the first day of summer and just in time for beach reading! For new readers, it’s a cozy mystery set in an Italian restaurant at the Jersey shore. Though the book is a slightly updated new edition of Murder and Marinara, the story, setting, and characters remain the same as the original, but with a fresh new look.

The book will be available for pre-order on Amazon later in the week, so stay tuned!

Role Models and Influences: Agatha Christie

My pleasure reading often involves re-reading favorite works that help me clear my head for my own writing. In the case of Agatha Christie, I get the added benefit of learning from a master of the genre while I read.

I just loaded a bunch of Christie on my Kindle, and discovered to my delight that there was a Miss Marple I'd somehow missed: 4:50 to Paddington. The "4:50" of the title is a time, and refers to a train on which a murder occurs, witnessed by an elderly lady from a passing train on the opposite tracks. The authorities, of course, chalk it up to her age and an overactive imagination, but her friend Miss Jane Marple believes her, and sets out to solve the case.

Jane Marple, like Christie's other famous detective, Hercule Poirot, is an amateur sleuth. Both tend to be one step ahead of the police, and both have a way of getting witnesses to talk to them. But here's what Christie understood so well about her two characters: they were outsiders, and as outsiders occupied a unique position--that of observer.

Among the English upper crust, Poirot is a foreigner. His slicked-back hair and waxed mustache are a joke, as is his accent. Those around him--including the various murderers he foils--don't perceive him as a threat. He's not one of them, so they ignore him. They don't reckon on the fact that nothing escapes his notice.

I'm a Miss Marple fan, but I wasn't always. As a young reader of Christie, I had no interest in an elderly lady who sits in a corner knitting, and therein lies her power. Then, as now, elderly ladies are all but invisible in society; they usually hold little power, and they are easily dismissed by others (as is the case of the woman in the book I'm reading now). But they sure as hell pay attention, something I appreciate much more as I get older. Miss Marple, with little to do except watch people, has an understanding of human behavior beyond that of the various Scotland Yard inspectors she foils.

When I set out to create an amateur sleuth of my own, I made her a mystery writer. (In fact, Victoria's main character, Bernardo Vitali, might be considered the Italian version of Poirot.) As a writer, Vic is also an observer. She takes in the small details of physical appearance and personality that others might miss. And as a writer of mysteries, she's conversant with the why and how of murder. But unlike Poirot and Miss Marple, she makes her share of mistakes.

As does her creator. . .

Hats Off to Mary

She was the reason I got interested in journalism. She was the reason I lived alone in a fourth floor walk-up as a single professional. She taught me that there's strength in kindness and that you can be a feminist and still retain your femininity. Mary Richards, immortalized by the lovely Mary Tyler Moore, was a beacon for all of us. I will always be grateful to her and to the talented woman who brought her to life.

Role Models and Influences: Shirley Jackson

Is there any one of us who hasn't read Shirley Jackson's iconic story, "The Lottery"? I don't think there's any better depiction of the dark undercurrents that usually remain hidden in small communities. My favorite of Jackson's works is The Haunting of Hill House, with its much-better-than-average Hollywood adaptation, The Haunting. 

I think Jackson has been a subconscious influence on my work as a mystery writer, particularly in the way that she skillfully evokes atmosphere. (And like her, I adore creaky old houses with plenty of secrets.) So I was thrilled to find that there's a new biography of Jackson, with the compelling subtitle, "A rather haunted life." Perfect reading for this time of year.

Publishers Weekly gave a small taste of the book is this article. 

I Confess. . .

That I stole my tagline, “Cozy mysteries with romantic interruptions,” from Dorothy L. Sayers. Sayers was the author of the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries; published primarily in the 30s, the Wimsey mysteries are prime examples of the “Golden Age” of British detective fiction.

Wimsey is an aristocratic sleuth who takes up detecting as a hobby after he returns to England after World War I. While I love all the books, in the early ones Wimsey is a bit of a flat character. It isn’t until the series introduces Harriet Vane, a mystery writer wrongfully accused of murder, that he becomes fully dimensional. Though Sayers swore she’d never have her sleuth involved in a romance, she spins out a wonderful one over several books that culminate in the marriage of Harriet and Peter. In fact, Sayers got so enthusiastic about the love story that she was accused of having a crush on her own character, which given Wimsey's charms, seems perfectly natural.

The last book in Sayers’ series, Busman’s Honeymoon, carries this subtitle: “A Love Story with Detective Interruptions.” So with a little tweaking, it became a way for me to define my stories. But let’s call it an homage, shall we?

I don’t know about you, but I really need some romance in my mysteries. (I need some mystery in my romance, too, but that’s a post for another day.) Providing your detective a love interest humanizes him or her, and it gives readers something else to wonder about—will they get together or not?—besides the murder. And it keeps us turning pages. As much as I respect Sayers’ formidable skills with a mystery, it was the love story that kept me coming back to the books.

Beauty in a Bag

This summer's beach tote!

If you're like me, you're a sucker for those special "purchases" featured at the high-end of the cosmetics counter. You know the ones I mean: spend X amount on a pricey brand, and you get a cute little (or not so little) bag filled with goodies. The bag pictured here was my latest seduction, offered by one of the oh-so-classy old school lines--hence the vintage fashion image:

I have to say, this promotion was a goodie. There were two full-sized lipsticks and some sample sizes of their skin care line. But here's the issue--the price point is almost always a number that requires you to buy more than one thing. So I found my lightweight foundation with sunscreen (a must for summer) but still had to spend 7 bucks to reach the magic number. There is NOTHING for 7 bucks at this particular counter, where the littlest lip gloss starts at $23. Let's just say I went a little over budget, which is, of course, the purpose of these things.

But the bag rocks, doesn't it?

The Love of Reading. . .

is alive and well! As an inveterate bookworm myself,  I am grateful every day for  the opportunity to tell stories of my own. Many, many thanks to those of you who have signed up for my newsletter, written reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, liked my Facebook page, or just reached out to say hello. I wouldn't be here without you! 

If you love a book. . .pass it on!

public domain image courtesy wikimedia commons

"Hey, Boo. . ."

Scout Finch utters these words at a turning point in To Kill a Mockingbird. It's a moment of recognition, understanding, and catharsis. After being disillusioned and saddened by the death of Tom Robinson, she and Jem are nearly victims of violence themselves. But the ghost she had feared as a little girl has turned into their savior and friend. When Boo appears at the Finch home, Scout sees him--literally and figuratively--for the first time. 

Like the reclusive Boo Radley, Harper Lee fiercely guarded her privacy. She has said that the overwhelming response to Mockingbird "knocked her cold." She was a modest woman who thought she was telling a modest story, not one that would become ingrained in American culture--beloved, argued over, dissected, and taught for more than half a century. 

I have taught To Kill a Mockingbird for 20 of the 25 years I spent in the classroom, and each time I found something new in the story. Like the gifts that Boo leaves in the old tree for Scout and Jem, Harper Lee has given us a story that symbolizes who she is. I feel her loss today as though she were a friend. As though I, in some way, knew her. But I realize it is only with her passing that we can know her. That we can finally say, "Hey, Nelle. Thank you for everything."

Not Stranger Than Fiction

So often when friends and family read an author’s books—particularly one written in the first person—they make the assumption that the author and the narrator/main character are one and the same. When my mom read my first book, an unpublished romantic comedy, she learned that the main character’s dad had died, and that the young woman’s mother was dating a man who owned several car dealerships. As she was reading, she turned to my father with a satisfied air and said: “Hah! She’s killed you and given me a rich boyfriend.”

Um, no, Mom. That’s not how it works.

In interviews though, I am often asked how much of my own experience informs that of my main character, Victoria Rienzi. Like Victoria, I worked in Italian restaurants. I appreciate good food. I love the Jersey shore, listen to Bruce Springsteen and Frank Sinatra, and share her terror of boardwalk rides. But that’s about it. Here’s where my amateur sleuth and I part ways:

• ·         I do not, under any circumstances, chase down murderers. That’s why God gave us 911.
• ·         I am a bit—okay, quite a bit—older than Victoria.
• ·         My father does not have a gambling problem and my mother does not have big hair. At least not now.
• ·         I do not, alas, have two hunky guys vying for my attention. Those days are long gone, gentle readers.
• ·         Her jokes, her real estate (a seaside cottage) and her legs are all much better than my own.

When I’m in the process of writing, however, in some ways, I become my narrator. I live inside her head, think her thoughts and feel her feelings. I get afraid when a suspect is on to her. I’m triumphant when she works out a piece of the mystery. And yes, I get a little vicarious thrill when those cute guys are fighting over me…I mean her.

But after I hit “save” and shut down that computer, the spell is broken. It’s something of a relief to go back to being Rosie, whose only puzzle to solve is the crossword and whose biggest mystery is that ever burning question: What am I going to make for dinner?

Good-Bye to the Boardwalk

Last night on a visit with my sister and my best friend, we got our last taste of summer on the Seaside Heights boardwalk. Many of the stands were closed, but there were still people strolling and enjoying the last gasp of the season.

To me this shot captures the boardwalk perfectly, in all its honky-tonk glory. So as summer's heat gives way to autumn's chill, the boardwalk stands will close. 

But there's always next summer, and that's the beauty of the Jersey Shore.