Has William Kent Krueger Written a Cozy?

By Chester Campbell

I just finished reading Northwest Angle, Krueger's eleventh Cork O'Connor novel. It's the first one of his I've read. From comments I've seen on DorothyL, it isn't typical of his series about the former Chicago cop now dabbling in the PI business. Apparently the publisher wasn't sure exactly what to call it. The promotional blurb on the back cover of the Advance Reading Copy ends with this:

"Part thriller, part mystery, part exploration of the human heart, Northwest Angle is a dynamic addition to William Kent Krueger's critically acclaimed, award-winning series."

The title comes from the setting of the book, a remote area of Minnesota that juts out of Canada and includes islands in Lake of the Woods. That is one reason I question whether it could be called a cozy. The normal definition of the subgenre includes the setting in a small community where everybody knows everybody. Although the area of the Northwest Angle isn't really small, it's sparsely populated, giving the same effect as a small community. Everybody gets around on boats.

Cozies are supposed to be short on sex and violence. The only sex here took place before the story began, when a young Ojibwe girl got pregnant. Most of the violence comes about from the forces of nature, a destructive storm called a derecho. Other than that, there are lots of threats but only a couple of shooting scenes. There's no more actual violence than takes place in my Greg McKenzie series, which a few reviewers have called cozy.

Of course, I happen to disagree with that characterization of the McKenzie books and also would not hang that moniker on Krueger's latest. Northwest Angle is mostly the story of Cork O'Connor's family problems and how they are resolved. There is a mystery at the core of it, but the novel is heavily weighted on the characters. It is well-written and suspenseful. Makes me want to go back and read some of his earlier books.

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Revisiting The Catcher in the Rye

by Ben Small

A local bookstore held a Banned Books seminar to celebrate its twenty-fifty anniversary, inviting local authors to select a book and discuss it. I signed up for Salinger's classic story of a depressed sixteen year old boy describing his three day breakdown, which meant, of course, that I had to read The Catcher in the Rye again. I'd read it first during my high school days, when it was a kick to pick up a banned book. I raced through the thing, panting with the pressure of hormones, expecting passages like those found in Lady Chatterly's Lover.  Alas, I had to read it over again. It was not what I'd expected.

Then, twenty years later, I picked up The Catcher in the Rye when my son appeared to be going through some of Holden's angst.

And so, the third time.

And The Catcher in the Rye did not disappoint.

But this time, instead of trying to fully understand Holden Caulfield, I had different thoughts, wondering what would happen to him today, and what likely happened to him back in 1949, when the book is set (Note: Copyright date is 1945.)

In the last passages of the book, Holden won't tell us what happened after his three hellish days, just that he's seeing a psycho-analyst. This caused me to think about how mentally ill people were handled back then.

Electro-shock treatment.

I wondered how a sixteen year old boy, depressed because he's just been tossed from his fourth swanky college prep boarding school would handle electro-shock treatment. If anything, I'm sure such treatment would make Holden more unstable, would eviscerate his self esteem and assure him that he was in fact crazy, as he often tells us.

Holden's father is a high level corporate lawyer, someone who travels extensively and is paid well. Holden doesn't tell us much about his mother. But one can sense that Holden was sent to boarding school to get him out of the house, especially after Holden's little brother died of leukemia three years before. And the timing works. Four schools translates to at least two years at the very least, perhaps more. We don't know how long it took Holden to sink into the dark tunnels of depression. So, it's very possible his parents decided to send him away, perhaps to get him out of the house and avoid the constant reminders how close Holden and his dead brother had been. Perhaps for some other reason. We don't know if Holden's two brothers attended boarding schools.

The basic problem is that Holden didn't fit in at these schools. These are high powered schools, probably located in Connecticut, some of which cost $35,000 per year and brag of such graduates as George Schultz or Henry Kravitz. When Holden is challenged, he gives up, lest he fail anyway. He claims he's just not interested, while we, as readers, know he's covering up for fear of failure. Holden defends his angst by noting the phoniness of his classes, his schoolmates and everyone he meets.

But Holden's not mean. Holden shows compassion for little children and delights in watching them. One senses it's their innocence that he admires. And this innocence seems to inflame Holden because he knows he's lost his. His drinking and the vehemence of his unpopular opinions seem to increase after he's watch children play.

Yet, many of Holden's insights are valuable today. For instance, Holden's take on actors, their phoniness. I chose to read two pages of Holden's rant against actors as he remembers to buy theater tickets for his date with old Sally. I could have just opened the book and read any passage, because one can just about do that and find something meaningful, but I had heard some actor using his bully pulpit to mouth off about politics, something no doubt he knew little of, and something no doubt contrived just for publicity. I especially enjoyed the quote:

"I hate actors. They never act like people. They just think they do. Some of the good ones do, in a very slight way, but not in a way that's fun to watch. And if any actor's really good, you can always tell he knows he's good, and that spoils it."

But reading the book also caused me to wonder what would happen to Holden Caulfield today.

I suspect he may be on drugs. I also suspect he'd be diagnosed with all sorts of mental illnesses or learning disabilities, and would probably be secluded from other students under No Child Left Behind -- which may just increase his alienation, solidifying the notion that Holden doesn't fit in -- he's deficient. Holden would probably be on anti-depressants, maybe shot full of Ritalin or other drugs. He may be diagnosed as Bi-polar.

Would any of these diagnoses or drugs help Holden?

It's hard to say. Many of his problems relate to lack of a supportive family involvement, the feeling of being cast off and out. He misses his dead brother terribly, and there's no one to comfort Holden. He's sent away.

I could go on and on about this book, but this is a blog, not a study guide. I will read this book again and again, as it still has relevance today, with valuable insights and issues that haven't changed much despite the passage of seventy-some years.

And, oh yes, I had a red hunting cap when I was young, too.

Book Marketing For A Cause

by Susan Santangelo

Grettings from foggy Cape Cod MA. It's Sunday morning, October 2. As I'm sure everyone who's reading this post knows, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. The pink breast cancer ribbon is everywhere -- yogurt cups, cereal boxes, makeup. Everyone, it seems, is thinking "pink" this month.

I'm a 13-year breast cancer survivor, and very involved in a non-profit organization for survivors called the Breast Cancer Survival Center (BCSC). A portion of all sales from the Baby Boomer Mysteries is donated to BCSC, and I donate a larger percentage during the month of October. I also put the pink ribbon on books I sell through local retail outlets and at book signings/talks.

As writers, we all know how much time we have to spend marketing our books, when we'd much rather be, well, writing. But it occurred to me that this "cause marketing" idea might be a good one to share. After all, if we have to do marketing anyway, linking it to a non-profit would be a good deal for the cause itself, plus it might open up a whole new readers' pool.

Ah, Yosemite

by Jean Henry Mead

My husband and I traveled the length of Yosemite in July and were surprised to find so much snow in the mountains, which range in elevation from 2,127 to 13,114 feet. Some 3.7 people visit the park each year.

The park is not only breathtakingly beautiful, it can also be dangerous. The day we were there, three young people were swept over Vernal falls to their deaths because they had climbed over the guard rail to take pictures. We read the following day that 17 park visitors had died in the first seven months of this year.

Half Dome (in the background) attracts a great many rock climbers each year and we saw quite a few that day.

I was surprised to learn that the park encompasses 761,268 acres and three counties over the western slope of the Sierra Nevadas. It's a horticulturist's paradise with 7,000 diverse plant species and 160 varieties of rare plants that exist within the park. It's also a geologist's dream.

I once lived in the San Joaquin Valley for more than a dozen years and visited Yosemite a number of times, but each trip reveals something new to admire and photograph.

Poltergeist

By Mark W. Danielson

I’m well into the sequel to Writer’s Block, which is due out this November. Tentatively named The Insomniac, it is based on a real haunting within Fort Worth’s Scott Theater. The main culprit is a spirit that has been residing there since a young man hanged himself in 1970, a mere four years after the live theater was completed. As this suicide was a relatively recent occurrence, it became the perfect setting for homicide detective Maxx Watts to determine whether this was madness or a cold case homicide. Writing this story has involved some very interesting paranormal research.

I’m having fun playing characters who believe in the paranormal against those who don’t. While I haven’t seen any ghosts or experienced any odd phenomena, my wife Lyne has. Over the last few years while working in the backyard, the side gate has opened and closed with no wind or anyone around, she’s felt something touch her thigh when no one was nearby, and twice the running sprinkler has been shut off at the twist valve directly behind her with no one else in the yard. Such unexplainable events tend to run in the family, too, with relatives seeing manifestations and experiencing strange things.

Needing expertise, I contacted Long Island Paranormal Investigations for an explanation of what another paranormal team claimed to be photographic evidence of orb manifestations in the Scott Theater. LIPI is of the opinion that the white dots in the Scott Theater photos are actually dust spots on the lens. Interestingly, one such dust spot appears on LIPI’s web page crew photo. When I asked them about the peculiar events my wife had experienced, I was told that some people are more receptive to spiritual events than others. Ironically, it seems that those who desperately want to experience paranormal events are the least likely to. I see that as proof that spirits retain their sense of humor in the afterlife.

There is a significant difference between manifestations and poltergeists. Manifestations are spirits that show themselves in one shape or another, whereas poltergeists may create chaos while remaining invisible. What I have written into my story parallels what has actually been witnessed and recorded at the Scott Theater. Why would I reinvent ghosts when they are already dancing for you? I hope these spirits enjoy the story. I’m sure they can download it on their G-net. If they disapprove, I suppose Lyne can expect more “polter” events.

When discussing the paranormal, most people automatically envision the poltergeists invented by Hollywood. According to Wikipedia, a poltergeist is “a paranormal phenomenon which consists of events alluding to the manifestation of an imperceptible entity. Such manifestation typically includes inanimate objects moving or being thrown about, sentient noises (such as impaired knocking, pounding or banging) and, on some occasions, physical attacks on those witnessing the events. Since no conclusive scientific explanation of the events exists up to this day, poltergeists have traditionally been described in folklore as troublesome spirits or ghosts which haunt a particular person, hence the name. Such alleged poltergeist manifestations have been reported in many cultures and countries including the United States, Japan, Brazil, Australia, and all European nations, and the earliest recorded cases date back to the 1st century.”

Although Wikipedia’s explanation continues, it verifies that ghostly behavior is not always a figment of our imagination. I’m not one to say that poltergeists don’t exist, but the energy required for a ghost to manifest and actually move something is incomprehensible. Then again, that’s what makes ghost stories like this one fun – especially when it is set days before Halloween. Whatever follows is limited only by your imaginations. Sleep well.

Shazam and other transforming words

I scribbled the following on a plane last year as I flew home to Aberdeen. It was intended to be a happyish, light-hearted piece but it had a twist and, anyway, I can now see it in a different light.

Soon I’ll be home after a few days in London. Not my favourite city (Paris is way ahead in that race) but an exciting, fascinating place to be all the same. The impression everywhere is that things are happening, people are on their way somewhere.  Even the Trafalgar Square tourists and the Oxford Street shoppers seem purposeful. Actually, come to think of it, maybe that’s why I prefer Paris. Over there, they stop and sit sipping coffee and Pastis to watch the others go by. I know it’s a cliché but they do linger over seemingly endless lunches and, rather than try to catch up with time, they’re savouring it as it passes. It suits my preference for languor over action.

Having said which, one of the reasons for my trip was to meet with a publisher to discuss writing a 100,000+ word non-fiction book. It’s an interesting, challenging project and, unlike with fiction, there’s a guarantee of publication (unless I make a complete mess of it all). It means setting aside the languor and working full time to meet the deadline. I have no idea what’ll happen to the blogging, tweeting and all that stuff, but with days filled with solid writing, I think I’ll need some trivia to keep me going.

So this was supposed to be a relatively straight, informative posting, but the notion just came to me that this writing business fits into all the superhero stereotypes. People such as Billy Batson and Clark Kent live along their ordinary lives, lost in the crowd. Suddenly, duty calls and, with a quick detour to a phone box (harder and harder in these days of mobiles/cell phones) or a cry of ‘Shazam’, they’re transformed into an extraordinary being. And so it is with writers.

There they are tweeting, trying to remember the lead singer of some forgotten 70s group for a Facebook challenge and generally behaving like all the more or less adequate mortals around them when suddenly they get the tap on the shoulder from their muse, agent or publisher and Blat! they morph into creators of new universes, using their powers to help others escape the mediocre. Only when the job is done do they switch off their power source or put down their pen and disappear back into the humdrum.

Trouble is, it takes Captain Marvel and Superman maybe twenty minutes to stop Jupiter crashing into the McDonald’s where some 5 year old kids are celebrating a birthday party, whereas the poor writers have to keep it up (and you can choose any of the double entendres you prefer at this point) for months.

And that was it. But here’s the twist I mentioned. When I got home and opened up the emails, there was a nice, polite message from the publisher saying it would be good if the book could be finished by the end of the year. Instead of the eight months I’d expected, I had just under four. Needless to say, I indulged in self-pity, moaned about the demands placed on the artist nowadays, and all sorts of similarly precious stuff. But I finished the book in time, the word count was closer to 80.000, and the feeling of achievement was very satisfying.

It also shattered the idea of the comparison with the superhero. They don’t whinge. Did you ever hear Superman begging Lex Luthor to take a time-out?

There is a tide...

by Carola Dunn

In general, I enjoy research. It's fun, whereas writing is sometimes fun but sometimes sheer hard work. However, it's maddening when the information you need eludes you or is contradictory.

I've been trying to find out about ocean currents in this beautiful bay in North Cornwall:

 Facing west

(that's my sister striding towards the 300' vertical cliff!)

 Facing northeast

Somewhere in those cliffs is a cave, from which my victim is swept by the current into the inlet on the right of the second photo.

 The inlet, Rocky Valley

The main trend of the coast is southwest to northeast, and that's the way the main current flows between low and high tides, reversing between high and low. However, the bay and the inlet face north. Headlands, islets, and underwater rocks divert the currents in unpredictable ways. Maybe there's a lobster fisherman somewhere who knows the details...

On the other hand, what's the likelihood of him reading my book and telling me I got it wrong? Since I don't know the answer, I can make the currents in the bay swirl exactly as I want them.

As a writer of fiction, I have goddess-like powers in my fictional world.