Five copies sold! Woot-woot! This Saturday I'll bring some copies to the Atlanta Writers' Club meeting and give one to Michael Brown, the club president who has offered some publicity. And I'll have a box full in the back of the car, just in case...
Even better, as far as I'm concerned, is resuming work on the next story. It's way too early to have even a working title. The first half is outlined well enough to actually WRITE; I'm trusting that the story will write the rest of itself after a certain point. Yes, sometimes the characters tell the author what to do.
I've set this one in December in New Orleans. All the others take place in (usually) non-specified warm weather. New Orleans cold is different from what I deal with in Atlanta: stuck between Lake Pontchartrain and the Mississippi River, New Orleans is very humid, which makes 45 degrees fahrenheit feel a lot colder. My first trip to Mardi Gras, in the late 19th century, was a surprise -- how cold it was on Canal Street after the crowds dispursed. I don't know how or if this will impact the story. NOLA doesn't get hurricanes in December, and it doesn't get blizzards ever.
I don't yet know how many days/weeks/months the story will cover, but it's likely to include Christmas. That may be an excuse to bring back Amy's parents, and her sister with a husband and three kids. Maybe even her MeMaw, whom you haven't met yet. Also would be a likely time for Amy and Cody to, uh, consumate their budding relationship. Of course, if that happens, they will have to be awakened by something like a Molotov Cocktail crashing through the window.
I am thinking that I will continue Amy's concern through The Wedding Fatality that she and Paul are drinking too much (Cody has some health issues and will be a teetotaler, but not prissy or obnoxious about it). I'm not going to make her a wino because I have no experience, internal or external, with that. But she'll probably do a few inappropriate things because of alcohol. She'll be 36 in this story. And, unless Cody Locaviche is missing a heart, Amy will find a boyfriend. Don't know how that will affect Christine. If Amy won't let Paul marry Christine, eventually Christine may leave him; in The Wedding Fatality she admits to Amy that her mother keeps telling her she needs to settle down. Actually, I'd love for Amy and Paul and Christine and maybe Cody to live happily ever after, but that doesn't make for a compelling mystery novel.
A reader pointed out that Amy and Paul are all the time eating. I don't think that's true; like most people, they sometimes eat breakfast and then have lunch and dinner. But I include the meals in my narrative (insert juvenile joke about Robinson Crusoe and 'My good Master Bates' here) where most writers don't bother. I do it because I weigh a lot more than Amy's 109 pounds and I like food. I'm thinking a recipe or two might be in order, maybe in a footnote like I did about the deep fried bread pudding po-boy in The Wedding Fatality, or maybe in an aside, or maybe even in a afterward. Somebody's got to carry on now that Paul Prudhomme has died!
I assume Paul -- Paul Dominic Owens -- will continue to sing bits of rock songs from the 60s and 70s. I used to be a radio announcer, and my head is stuffed to overflowing with pop and rock music of the hit and obscure varieties. Indeed, there was a time when I would quote the Beatles about absolutely everything happening around me. I'm told it got very old. I don't do that anymore. And Paul only does it a little.
Be sure to tell your friends that The Wedding Fatality is available!
Even better, as far as I'm concerned, is resuming work on the next story. It's way too early to have even a working title. The first half is outlined well enough to actually WRITE; I'm trusting that the story will write the rest of itself after a certain point. Yes, sometimes the characters tell the author what to do.
I've set this one in December in New Orleans. All the others take place in (usually) non-specified warm weather. New Orleans cold is different from what I deal with in Atlanta: stuck between Lake Pontchartrain and the Mississippi River, New Orleans is very humid, which makes 45 degrees fahrenheit feel a lot colder. My first trip to Mardi Gras, in the late 19th century, was a surprise -- how cold it was on Canal Street after the crowds dispursed. I don't know how or if this will impact the story. NOLA doesn't get hurricanes in December, and it doesn't get blizzards ever.
I don't yet know how many days/weeks/months the story will cover, but it's likely to include Christmas. That may be an excuse to bring back Amy's parents, and her sister with a husband and three kids. Maybe even her MeMaw, whom you haven't met yet. Also would be a likely time for Amy and Cody to, uh, consumate their budding relationship. Of course, if that happens, they will have to be awakened by something like a Molotov Cocktail crashing through the window.
I am thinking that I will continue Amy's concern through The Wedding Fatality that she and Paul are drinking too much (Cody has some health issues and will be a teetotaler, but not prissy or obnoxious about it). I'm not going to make her a wino because I have no experience, internal or external, with that. But she'll probably do a few inappropriate things because of alcohol. She'll be 36 in this story. And, unless Cody Locaviche is missing a heart, Amy will find a boyfriend. Don't know how that will affect Christine. If Amy won't let Paul marry Christine, eventually Christine may leave him; in The Wedding Fatality she admits to Amy that her mother keeps telling her she needs to settle down. Actually, I'd love for Amy and Paul and Christine and maybe Cody to live happily ever after, but that doesn't make for a compelling mystery novel.
A reader pointed out that Amy and Paul are all the time eating. I don't think that's true; like most people, they sometimes eat breakfast and then have lunch and dinner. But I include the meals in my narrative (insert juvenile joke about Robinson Crusoe and 'My good Master Bates' here) where most writers don't bother. I do it because I weigh a lot more than Amy's 109 pounds and I like food. I'm thinking a recipe or two might be in order, maybe in a footnote like I did about the deep fried bread pudding po-boy in The Wedding Fatality, or maybe in an aside, or maybe even in a afterward. Somebody's got to carry on now that Paul Prudhomme has died!
I assume Paul -- Paul Dominic Owens -- will continue to sing bits of rock songs from the 60s and 70s. I used to be a radio announcer, and my head is stuffed to overflowing with pop and rock music of the hit and obscure varieties. Indeed, there was a time when I would quote the Beatles about absolutely everything happening around me. I'm told it got very old. I don't do that anymore. And Paul only does it a little.
Be sure to tell your friends that The Wedding Fatality is available!