Mystery Writer Meets Mystery

Several years ago a friend and I had to put our detecting skills to work. After all, we write mysteries and we’d know how to do that.

I have two close friends, who for privacy reasons I’ll call Brenda and Jackie, who also write mysteries. The three of us live in different states and we’re spread from the west coast to the east coast. Brenda was moving to a new home and Jackie and I knew we’d be out of touch with her for a few days. Not a big deal, right?

Well, a few days went by, and then a few more days, and still no word from Brenda. We tried to call her on her cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail. Jackie and I began to worry, which is something we do well. We’ve had plenty of practice.

 Where's Brenda?

It suddenly struck Jackie and me that we write mysteries for a living. If anyone could track Brenda down it should be us, because after all, we know how to do these things. We write about them. We research them. We lined up our facts and moved on from there. We knew that Brenda had hired a moving company that was owned and run by women. We knew when and where she was moving to, although we didn’t have the new address yet. And we both knew how to use the Internet. It would be a piece of cake. Uh huh.

I checked online for moving companies in the area we were interested in that were owned by women. I found one, and only one. Remember, this was a long time ago and not every company showed up online. Well, I called the company, but they said they’d never heard of Brenda and they said that they were the only female-owned company in the area. It never dawned on me that they might say that because they didn’t want me checking with the competition. That was one of my bigger Duh Moments during this caper.

I checked a map and the Internet for the small town that our friend was moving to, and called both the local police station and the county Sheriff. They couldn’t help me because I didn’t have enough information.

Then Jackie hit on something. She’d saved some emails from Brenda and she thought maybe the recipients of those notes could help us locate friends or family. She was right. The address line held names that had become familiar to us from stories Brenda had shared.

We began emailing people who’d probably never heard of us. As it turned out, Brenda had mentioned us, so they were great about helping with the search. A friend had received a phone call from Brenda, but the connection had been terrible. At least she’d heard something.

As it turned out, Brenda didn’t have good phone service at the new home, and no Internet connection was readily available – the woes of living in a rural area. On top of that, her electricity had gone out during a storm.

Where did we get our information? Her ex-husband had received one of our emails. What a guy! He’d been in touch with her.

So Jackie and I ended up feeling pretty good about our deductive reasoning skills, and maybe this little exercise would help us in telling some of our stories. In the meantime, we were grateful that our friend was okay.

The point of this story? Sometimes it takes a writer’s mind to figure out a mystery without the aid of a private eye or the police. If this had happened today, you can bet we would have taken even more steps to find our friend, but in the meantime, we patted each other on the back – figuratively speaking, since we lived in different states.

Until next time, wishing you a fun little mystery of your own and the skills to solve it.

CLICK HERE to visit Marja McGraw’s website (To be updated soon)

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About a Diary Snob

When I started writing, I didn’t want to include diaries in my stories about old crimes. It seemed too cliché to use them. Instead, I used things like old letters, photographs and word-of-mouth. I have those things. My grandmother was a pen pal to a few soldiers during World War I. She kept all the letters. She also left me a huge trunk filled with old photographs. We had several conversations about what things were like for her as a child and the things that changed her life. When she was fourteen or fifteen, she was in an industrial accident and lost her arm below the elbow. That was definitely life-changing, but she dealt with it. The letters and our conversations were quite revealing. We talked about what things were like in Old Los Angeles. I won’t bore you with more, but you get the idea.

I figured I could get by without the use of diaries and journals for information in my mysteries.

How wrong I was. Well, using things other than diaries was fine, but diaries were a large part of people’s lives. They chronicled what was going on, even if it was simply to write about what they had for dinner on a particular night. In among the references to meatloaf, there are often little jewels of knowledge. There are insights into what life was like during certain periods of time. They’re also a good way to learn the slang used at the time the diary was written.

 

I’m not sure if diaries are used as often today as they used to be. With the Internet, I guess people use other means for keeping track of their lives. If we were to suddenly lose the use of the Internet, a lot of memories would be lost forever. The written word will last forever, assuming the diaries aren’t thrown away like mine were. Mine were just too corny to live.

Diaries and journals have existed in one form or another all through history. Think Dead Sea Scrolls. They’ve chronicled ocean voyages, trips across the country in wagons, people’s reactions to historic events, and some have even been known to hold deep, dark secrets.

So was I a diary snob? I guess I was. What brought me out of this was my cousin finding many diaries that one of my grandmother’s had kept. Many years ago I found one lonely little diary that my other grandmother wrote in, and one that my mother had kept her thoughts in when she was a teenager.

Now I’m working on Gin Mill Grill and I’ve introduced some old diaries. Since this story is based on a crime from the 1930s that needs to be solved today, and most of the characters are either dead or very, very old now, the diaries may be invaluable. Honestly? I haven’t decided just how they’ll play into the story, but in one way or another they will have a part.

I’ve mentioned this before, but one of my own personal mysteries is a photo I found in that big trunk I mentioned. In among the old family photos dating back into the 1800s, I found a picture of a firing squad doing what they do. You can even see smoke coming out of the rifles. This is not a photo you’d expect to find with pictures of great-great-great-grandma. I sent it to a Naval historian who had a few ideas, but I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure what was going on. My grandfather (much older than my grandmother), was in the Navy from 1904-1907. I have a photo album with pictures he took around the world, and the firing squad photo looks very similar to the quality and type of pictures he took. I wish he’d kept a diary.

So, while I started out with letters, photos and word-of-mouth (meaning memories), I’ve now added diaries and journals.

Is there something that you think is too cliché? Are you a snob about something used in mysteries? As for me, I need to keep an open mind.

Until next time, read some of those old diaries stashed away in boxes in the attic or garage. You just mind find something interesting.

CLICK HERE to visit Marja McGraw’s website (To be updated soon)

CLICK HERE for a quick trip to Amazon.com

A Personal Mystery

One day last week a van with a logo pulled up across the street and parked. A man climbed out and looked busy, and yet it didn’t seem like he was really doing anything. He was there for a couple of hours and finally took off.

The next day a pickup truck with a different logo pulled up across the street and parked, and again, a man climbed out and fiddled around, not looking like he was really accomplishing much. He left after a few hours.

On the third day a larger truck (again with a different logo) pulled up and parked across the street. Surprise, surprise, a man climbed out and looked busy without seeming to do a darned thing.

Okay, they had my attention. My office is in the front of the house and my windows are placed so that I can see everything that goes on across the street. This went on for the rest of the week, with trucks or vans always parking in the same spot and leaving after some time had passed.

I joked to my daughter that I felt like Big Brother was watching. She laughed and said, “Oh, you’ve got to do a blog about that.”

I suppose these trucks could inspire a book, or my story might make you think I’m nuts. I’d rather think in terms of having an overactive imagination.

Of course, I’m positive that each of these trucks was here for a legitimate purpose. I’m not really nuts. I’ve just read too many mystery and suspense novels, and watched too many television shows. Yeah, that’s probably it.

Come to think of it, there was one driver who got out and stood between the two houses across the street. All he did was look up, from one roof to the other, before he… Well, he didn’t do anything else except stand around – for quite a while. Hmmm. I might have thought he was going to give them a roofing estimate, but he never wrote anything down.

Almost everything we observe can be a basis for a book. Life has a way of handing us interesting situations. What we do with those is what makes us writers. It’s what entertains readers.

In my mind, observation and research are two of the most important parts of writing, and sometimes they’re one in the same.

The trucks reminded me of another story. Many years ago I lived in an apartment complex. I came home late at night and there was a man in the alley between the buildings. When he saw my headlights he started banging on some meters. Being the suspicious sort, and having had prowler problems in the area, I called the police. They came out and checked, and later told me he was a meter reader. I couldn’t imagine reading meters at ten o’clock at night. I called the electric company the next day. Uh, they didn’t have anyone out reading meters in our area the night before, or any other night. Repairs were sometimes done at night, but not meter reading. Fodder for a story?

I’d be willing to bet that you, both writers and readers, have observed some unusual things. Can you imagine these incidents in a book? Sure. Why not?

Until next time, have a good week and keep your eyes open. Don’t miss any of the good stuff. You might need it for a story the next time you think, “I’m out of ideas. Now what?”

CLICK HERE to visit Marja McGraw’s website

CLICK HERE for a quick trip to Amazon.com

Black Butterfly – A Bogey Man Mystery and Having a Great Crime – Wish You Were Here, A Sandi Webster Mystery, might brighten your day. Give them a try.

Humor is the Spice that Makes Life Easier

 

In Memory of all of those who have loved and protected us throughout the years

~~~

 

I learned many years ago that if you can find even one piece of humor in a traumatic situation, you need to glom onto it and savor it. Humor can help you through some rough times.

Remember, when writing fiction, the same applies.

I’m going to relate a personal story about how a bird has helped me through my own recent tragedy – with humor.

My husband recently passed away, suddenly and unexpectedly. I was devastated, and that’s putting it mildly.

The morning after he passed I took a cup of tea and settled outside on the patio. We have a small pond with a waterfall, and it was filled with a dozen goldfish. A remote is used to turn on the waterfall, and the sound is so soothing that I immediately stood up and tried to turn it on, but it wouldn’t start. However, that’s not the gist of this story.

I sat down, and looking up I saw a crane/heron, I’m not sure which, on the roof of the house behind us. I know they turn up occasionally at the nearby lake, but I’ve never seen one around my home. Feeling a little sappy at the time, I thought, Oh, that’s Al and he’s letting me know everything is going to be okay. The bird hung around for about half an hour, just sitting and staring at me. I grabbed my camera and took his picture, but I haven’t had the film developed yet or you could see him.

End of story, right? No. The next day the crane/heron returned. This time he climbed down the neighbor’s roof, a little closer to me, and sat and stared at me again. Oh, my, how I thought my husband really wanted me to know things would be okay.

The third day the crane/heron returned and I was amazed. My heart leapt, knowing how much my husband cared for me. That is, until I walked over to feed the fish and they were gone! The bird had eaten all of the fish.

Now it’s the end of the story, right? No. Some friends came over to help me with things and one of them threw a pebble into the pond. Two fish came rushing out from under a rock overhang. Oh, my gosh! The stupid bird had missed two of the fish! I ran for the fish food and tossed them some pellets.

In the meantime, my daughter tried to turn on the waterfall and it started right up. Uh, my husband always turned it on in the morning, and I always turned it off at night. It seems I’d been pushing the Off button out of habit. Problem solved and at least two fish had survived.

Now it’s the end of the story. No it’s not. On the fourth day I got out the fish food – enough for two fish – and strolled over to feed them. Six fish had finally worked up the nerve to come out from under the rocks. Mr. Crane/Heron didn’t get to fill his belly on his recent pond raid.

So what’s so funny about all of this? My husband had a wonderful sense of humor and this felt like something he might have orchestrated. In my own way, I still feel as though he’s been telling me to pull myself up by my bootstraps (not the way he would have worded it) and take care of business.

Yes, I honestly believe that in life, and in fiction, sometimes you have to let humor do a little healing.

Until next week, look for the humor in what life throws your way.

CLICK HERE to visit Marja McGraw’s website (Recently updated)

CLICK HERE for a quick trip to Amazon.com

Interesting note, at least to me. My husband came up with a few of my book titles. How Now Purple Cow was one of his best ideas. The story has to do with purple cows and elderly spies. Great title!

Whatever Happened to the Forties?

Here we are in 2015, and I hope the year is starting out well for all of us! The holidays are over and things have calmed down. Right? Nope. Still busy, busy, busy. So, with your indulgence, I’m reposting an older blog that I think/hope you’ll enjoy.

What’s one of the best things that can happen to a mystery writer? Well, to come up with your own personal mystery, of course.

Thanks to some book trailers I made some time ago, I needed to find photos from the 1940s. Not an issue because I have a huge old trunk my grandmother gave me, and it’s chock full of old photos ranging from the 1800s through the 1970s. This trunk has three layers and enough photos to last a lifetime. You can find a photograph to suit just about any occasion.  The trunk also includes vintage greeting cards dating back to the early 1900s and plenty of vintage postcards.

In addition to family photos I’ve found pictures of a train wreck, vacation photos, and to my horror, a photo of a firing squad shooting people. (How would you like to find that stuck in the middle of your family photos?) Since the officers are on horseback, it’s a pretty old photo. There are even “posed” photos of a fight and a marriage proposal. Anyway, I even have an entire album of pictures from my grandfather’s service in the Navy from 1904-1907. Fascinating photos from around the world. He served on the Elcano and he was part of the Yangtze River Patrol.  By the way, Grandpa was quite a bit older than Grandma, so draw your own conclusions as to my age. (Good luck with that.)

This trunk is so full that every time I go through it I find things I’ve missed before. I found a small diary, and a pad of paper on which my grandmother tried her hand at writing poetry. I’m very family-oriented so these things are important to me.

By this time you’re probably wondering what the big mystery is, right? I was looking for candid photos from the 1940s to use in book trailers, remember? I found some group family photos, but that’s not what I was looking for. Eventually l found an old family album resting in the bottom of the trunk. It was full of old greeting cards from the forties and I knew I’d found what I was looking for. Eureka! Oh, really? The cards were followed by page after page of those little black tabs people used to use to hold down the corners of photos – and that was it. There were lots of tabs, but no photos. They’d all been removed.

Picture me looking perplexed.

Now, I come from a family of photographing fools. They took pictures of everything they could aim a camera at, including a buggy being pulled by an ostrich and my great-aunt trying to look sexy in a woolen bathing suit (1915 or so). This is an aunt I mentioned in an earlier post whom I saw drinking out of a perfume bottle on Thanksgiving one year. Yes, she had a bit of a drinking problem and hid her, um, liquor in the bottle.

Okay, I had group shots from the forties and pictures of my siblings and me, but that wasn’t what I needed. So what happened to the 1940s? Why are all the other photos gone? Most of the people who could answer that question are gone. Those who are left don’t have an answer. A whole era is missing. How can you lose ten years of photos?

Maybe I’ll never know the answer to this little mystery. Or maybe I’ll find something informative in the trunk the next time I go through it, although I have overwhelming doubts. Or maybe I’ve just stumbled on an idea for a new mystery. Ideas come from the darnedest places.

You’d think a mystery writer could figure this one out, wouldn’t you? Not necessarily.

Until next time, I wish you a New Year of good health, prosperity, and… Well, maybe a little mystery of your own to solve. They can be so much fun.

CLICK HERE to visit Marja McGraw’s website

CLICK HERE for a quick trip to Amazon. com

CLICK HERE to see some of the book trailers on my website. Scroll down The Books page.