Is there anything better than a pajama party with fun girlfriends?
That's exactly what my Dangerous Dames tour of North Carolina has felt like this past week. My pals and fellow mystery authors, Julie Compton and Joanna Campbell Slan have been fabulous traveling partners. North Carolina resident Molly Weston, our escort, den mother, and psychological counselor, has gone above and beyond the call of duty. Not only has she put us up (and put up with us), she's told funny stories, stuffed us full of wonderful, fattening food, and brought in wonderful readers from all over North Carolina's Triangle to share in the fun. What else could you ask of a pajama party planner?
The PJ party comes to mind as Julie and I sit here on the last morning at Molly's house.(Joanna left yesterday, and we miss her!) We're both in our pajamas, clicking away on our little netbooks, sipping our hot beverages of choice (tea for me; coffee for Julie). Writers spend half their life in their PJs. The other half, they spend gussied up, going out to book signings and events to talk about the book they just spent a year writing.
The picture above features the gussied up Dames, Molly at the left, Joanna, me and Julie. I'll spare you the photo of us in our PJs, robes and fuzzy socks, sans make-up, hair products or glamor. That's the image, though, that I'll remember: gathered around Molly's kitchen table, the Dangerous Dames in their natural state. Just a quartet of gal pals throwing a PJ party.
Somebody's got to help me remember where I'm supposed to be guest-blogging (it's clear I haven't remembered to blog here, at home room, for a good little while!)
Today is the official release date of MAMA SEES STARS, the fourth book in my funny, Southern-fried Mace Bauer Mystery series. All the kids are doing blog tours, so I thought I'd try one, too. But I'm old, and kind of lazy ... so not only am I not making that many stops, I've also screwed up the scheduling through failure to plan and memory lapses.
Hence, I have lots of days with no stops, and a few days with too many stops. Sigh.
Anyway, I'm putting a list here of where I'm supposed to be, and what I'm supposed to write about (either as the fictional Mama character or the relatively real me). I think I can remember my way back to Mystery Gal to check from time to time to see if A, I'm who I thought I was, and B, at the tour stop where I'm supposed to be.
Do check out some of the wonderful bloggers so graciously hosting me:
Do you think Sue Grafton is running around her house today, trying to find something dressy to wear on Saturday night, along with a pair of black pants that don't make her look fat?
On the eve of Malice Domestic, an annual conference for fans of mystery novels, I'm still wading through piles of clothes in my bedroom trying to choose the least hideous things to pack. Don't get me started on shoes. Comfy = ugly. Cute = tortuous. I usually opt for comfort. I'm packing a pair of bright pink Nike sneakers. 'Nuff said.
Grafton is the author of the zillion-seller Kinsey Millhone series (From A is for Alibi, all the way to U is for Undertow, so far). On Saturday night at the conference, which annually draws some 500 mystery aficionados, Grafton will receive a lifetime achievement award from Malice Domestic's board of directors.
I can't wait to see what she's going to wear.
I myself may have gone a bit overboard on the Saturday sparkle. Witness the jacket pictured above, a little number I unearthed for $15 at a thrift store. I always like to imagine who might have worn these ''gently used'' frocks before I found them. My husband is convinced this jacket belonged to a magician's assistant. When the stage lights bounced off those green, purple and silver sequins, all the better to distract -- or maybe blind -- the audience from his magical sleight of hand. Either that, or it was a cast off from a performer who rode horses in the circus.
"Maybe the former owner wore it on an exotic cruise,'' I said. "Yeah, that would have to be Carnival Cruise Line,'' he said.
What a kidder.
I know the jacket is a bit (okay, a lot) over the top. I know it fairly shouts ''Come to the Carnival! Look at me!'' But, hey, I have to do something to stand out from the crowd of a couple hundred mystery authors who will be at Malice Domestic. If I had a whole alphabet worth of titles like Sue Grafton, that jacket would have stayed on the rack at the thrift store and I could show up in jeans.
But I need a little sparkle power, a little sleight of hand since I've only managed this far to write four books. If you're asking, here they are: Mama Does Time, Mama Rides Shotgun, and Mama Gets Hitched, are already out. Next up, in September: Mama Sees Stars.
Midnight Ink's design for Book #4 is another home run for my Mace Bauer Mystery series, featuring Mace's wacky Mama. Over at her advice column on the Wide World of the Web, Mama quibbles a bit about the number of bullets lodged in the movie marquee. (''There weren't THAT many people who got shot!'') But all in all, even the notoriously hard-to-please Mama gives the new cover two thumbs up.
Oh, yeah ... and Mama's creator does too.
Mama Sees Stars comes out Oct. 1, 2011. I swear, I'll try to get back to visit my sadly neglected blog before then.
In the meantime, here's a quick peek at the plot: When a Hollywood movie company comes to little Himmarshee, Mama becomes the star she's always known she was destined to be. The Hollywood folks are out of their element in the Florida wilds: sweltering heat, mosquitoes the size of Gulfstream jets, and no decent place to order a half-skim, heavy foam vanilla latte. When moviemaking turns to murder, just about any member of the cast or crew could be the culprit. The aging action hero. The troubled teen diva. The director who tries to lure Mama to his casting couch, and winds up duking it out with Sal, Husband No. 5. If daughter Mace can't stop the killer, this movie might be Mama's final act.
Mama takes Manhattan, y'all. I got the chance to go on the Today show and talk about my latest funny mystery, MAMA GETS HITCHED. Anchor Tamron Hall couldn't have been nicer, and I got to sit next to country star Martina McBride in the make-up room.
I kept feeling someone was going to tap me on the shoulder and say, "Hey, you! You're not supposed to be here!''
Big news! The first novel in my funny, Southern-fried mystery series just hit the shelves .... in JAPAN! My U.S. publisher, Midnight Ink, nicely mailed me a couple of copies so I could add them to my collection of international volumes. (Right now, it's a pretty meager ''collection,'' consisting of ... the Japanese edition.)
I love the anime-style, cartoony cover. A Japanese friend says they've translated the title as ''Don't Look in Mama's Trunk.'' Pretty good advice, since a corpse lurks inside.
I'd wondered how in the world they'd handle the colloquial ''Mama Does Time'' title, not to mention all the Southernisms sprinkled throughout the book. I hope someone who reads Japanese will tell me how they translated what the owner of Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor says in Chapter 7: "Honey, why don't you sit right down and relax? You look like a pair of pantyhose been put through the spin cycle.''
I was pleased to see they show an alligator on the Japanese cover (or, his head at least), as there are PLENTY of 'gators in Himmarshee, Fla. They also have Mace's eyes as blue, and Mama's convertible as turquoise, both correct.
Pretty cool, huh?
Now, since I was raised up right, I'm going to give a little *bow* here and say: Domo Arrigato, Hayakawa. That's ''Thank you, (Japanese publisher) Hayakawa.''
Y'all come back now, hear? Remember, there are three more titles in the Mace Bauer Mystery series, just itching to be translated!
Considering the fatal flaw of my main character, Mace Bauer, is that she can't fall in love .... have to wonder what I'd have to say to the Southern Magic Romance Writers. But they nicely invited The Great MAMA GETS HITCHED blog tour today anyway: http://romancemagicians.blogspot.com/2010/07/meet-deborah-sharp.html
Thank goodness Mama knows a lot -- too much -- about romance.
This character is out of control! She hijacks Stop. No. 3 on the Great MAMA GETS HITCHED Guest Blog Tour . . . and manages to tick off all of New Jersey in the process. Check it out:
Oh, how I love to see all five of those little gold stars filled in on Amazon's ''Average Customer Review.''
Average rating for MAMA GETS HITCHED? Five stars, y'all! What's that I hear? Must be the sound of a champagne cork popping.
Of course, only one reader has thus far reviewed Hitched. The book just came out officially July 1.
Thank you, Ruth B. Ingram, of East Texas, USA, for making my night.
Others will invariably weigh in. My golden stars may end up with a slice of their shine shaved off. But tonight, MAMA and I will revel in our All-Star status. Who needs Oprah's couch when you have a 5-star ranking on Amazon?
Maybe you've heard writers say the people they put in their books ''speak'' to them. In some cases, the characters demand to be heard. Authors Cricket McRae and Deborah Sharp decided that giving in is better than going crazy. They allowed two particularly insistent characters from their series to sit down for an interview. To have their say. Meet Anna Belle Watson and the newly married Rosalee Provenza.
Interviewer: Welcome, ladies. It's an honor to get the chance to talk with both of you.
Rosalee (Mama): Well, all I can say is it's about time. Miss Fancy Pants Author grabbed all the glory for putting out my first two stories. At last, someone has finally noticed that my name is in all the titles: Mama Does Time, Mama Rides Shotgun, and now, the latest one, Mama Gets Hitched. I'm thrilled to be here with Anna Belle, too. My understanding is her daughter, Sophie Mae, can be just as headstrong as my middle gal, Mace.
Anna Belle: I'm delighted to be here, especially with Rosalee. Even though her father was a journalist for years, these days it's usually Sophie Mae who gets all the press in our family. True, in the last two years she did find two dead bodies and prove a case of fatal botulism was really murder. But let's face it: Behind every great woman is another great woman. Sophie Mae is the strong, smart person she is mostly because of me. And Rosalee, headstrong is too mild a term for Sophie Mae. She's managed to almost get killed four times now. Mace seems to show a bit more common sense.
Interviewer: You know, your daughters are actually a good place to start. Anna Belle, why don't you go first? If you could change one thing about Sophie Mae, what would you change?
Anna Belle: Oh, I would definitely change her propensity for finding dead bodies and then feeling like she needs to dig out the truth. I say leave that sort of nonsense to the professionals. And it's not like her new husband, Barr, isn't a perfectly capable police detective. I must admit, though, I tricked her into coming back home to Spring Creek after I discovered her brother's suicide note precisely because I knew she'd get to the bottom of what happened two decades ago. But now that she's done that in Something Borrowed, Something Bleu, I wish she'd settle down and concentrate on her business and her marriage.
Mama: The one thing I'd change? I'd definitely have Mace be hitched by now. That ''will they-won't they? Are they-aren't they?'' rigmarole with her detective beau, Carlos, is purely exhausting. It's obvious they have the chemistry. Mace thinks I don't know what went on between the two of them the day of my bridal shower. Maybe she shouldn't be so willing, if you get my drift. I always told my girls: A man won't buy the cow when he can get the milk for free.
Interviewer: Rosalee, you appear in Deborah Sharp's ''Mace Bauer Mystery'' series. Anna Belle, you're in Cricket McRae's ''Sophie Mae Reynolds Home Crafting Mysteries.'' What role would each of you say you have in the books?
Mama: I believe that snippy author would say I'm the comic relief. As far as I'm concerned, though, I'm the star. Honey, there wouldn't be any books without Mama! For example, the latest one is all about me getting married to Sal. He's from the Bronx, in New York City -- a Yankee! -- but I love him anyway. Everyone in Himmarshee, Fla., said it was the Wedding of the Century. My girls wore sherbet-colored Scarlett O'Hara gowns, complete with ringlet curls and ruffled parasols. My sweet little Pomeranian, Teensy, was the ring bearer. We found him the cutest little satin vest and doggy top hat off that Wide World of the Web on the Intra Net. Of course, it did put a crimp in things when the caterer's corpse turned up in the kitchen at the VFW, even before the first pig-in-a-blanket was passed.
Anna Belle: My, Rosalee, your wedding sounds ... very Southern. Do you know how hard I had to work to keep Sophie Mae from going to the courthouse up there in Cadyville, Washington where she lives? So what if she'd already had one big wedding -- her first husband died several years ago, you know. So I guess I'd say my role is twofold. On one hand I was the reason Sophie Mae came back to find out why her brother killed himself, and on the other hand she was in desperate need of a wedding planner.
Interviewer: Both of you are originally from the South. Can you tell us a little bit about where you' come from?
Anna Belle: I'm originally from Franklin, Tennessee, a little town outside Nashville. It's infused with Civil War history, and my family has lived there since way back then. I earned my undergraduate business degree at Vanderbilt, and then went on to Tulane for my advanced degrees in marketing. Soon after, I moved to Spring Creek and began my teaching career at NorthernColoradoUniversity. I'm currently the dean of the marketing department, and my husband, Calvin, is a tenured journalism professor there. I've become quite westernized over the years, but can still turn on the southern charm as needed. I love where I live now, but oh my stars, I miss good barbecue something awful! And every time I go back to Tennessee for a visit I have to go to Puckett's in Leiper's Fork for a dose of their sweet potato fries.
Mama: I was born on the Fourth of July (we don't mention exactly what year) in Himmarshee, Fla., which is barely a bump on the road north of Lake Okeechobee. When folks think of Florida, most of them think of the beaches or Disney World. Well, we're sixty miles from the nearest ocean breeze, and far enough south of Orlando to be out of Mickey Mouse's big ol' ear-shaped shadow. We're the rodeo-and-ranching part of Florida -- all sweet tea and Southern drawls; citrus groves and church barbecues. I do aromatherapy at Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow beauty parlor; I teach Sunday School at Abundant Forgiveness church; and I indulge very occasionally in a box of sweet pink wine from the Booze 'n' Breeze drive-thru liquor store. And ya'll, I am happier than a pup with two tails to call Himmarshee home.
Interviewer: Both Mace and Sophie Mae have unusual professions. In fact Sophie Mae would probably like to sit down with you, Rosalee, and talk about aromatherapy. What do you think about what your daughters do for a living?
Mama: Mace works in a nature park, and traps nuisance critters on the side. She gets calls from newcomers who think they want country living, until the country comes to call. Now, I haven't always thought that was much of a job for a female. But the fact that Mace once hauled an alligator out of the pool of a northern transplant who didn't picture an 8-foot reptile with razor sharp teeth as a guest at his pool parties . . . well, let's just say Mace's particular skill set came in handy when I came up against a 'gator in Mama Does Time, and I'll always be grateful.
Anna Belle: I'm proud of Sophie Mae for having her own successful business. I know she works her tail off and has made a lot of sacrifices, but she was never happy with her job at the school administration building, or even in that bookstore. After her first husband died she was at such a loss. Thank goodness her best friend, Meghan, swooped in and asked her to come live with her, and then offered to let her use the basement as her workroom. Now, I don't know that I would have chosen for her to make soap for a living, but she seems quite happy about it. After all, she always was strangely curious about the ins and outs of colonial home crafts.
Interviewer: Whether it's preparing it, eating it, or using it as a weapon, food plays a large role in both series. What, if anything, do you think that says about your authors?
Anna Belle: My husband is a wonderful cook. I'm no slouch in the kitchen. My vegetable garden is one of my greatest joys, and we eat from it all summer. Sophie Mae and her housemate, Meghan, are both skilled in the kitchen and, yes, a bit obsessed about food. So what does Miss Cricket expect? She's the one who decided to write about home crafts. Something Borrowed, Something Bleu is a cheese making mystery, for heaven's sake. It's no wonder we're all interested in food, and Miss Cricket has no choice but to go along with it. I kind of wonder whether she's a good cook, though. For all I know she puts the good stuff down on the page and then eats a bowl of cereal for supper.
Mama: Food is one of the joys of life, isn't it, Anna Belle? Of course, I don't approve of the way Miss Fancy Pants Author always has us rolling around and fighting in the food in the ''Mace Bauer Mysteries.'' In real life, that doesn't happen all that much ... well, there was the time that the girls' Uncle Teddy got drunk and wound up in a vat of Ida's potato salad at one of our family reunions. Of course, if you'd ever tasted Ida's potato salad, you're realize that was no great loss.
Interviewer: What's coming up for the two of you next?
Mama: Sal and I haven't had a proper honeymoon yet, what with all the excitement at the wedding. The big news in Himmarshee is that a Hollywood movie company is coming to town. Not to sound immodest, but I've told my girls this is the chance I've always known I'd get. I hear tell that Ms. Author is coming along for the ride, and she's fixin' to write something about the whole shebang. She's calling it Mama Sees Stars. If you ask me, I think Mama BECOMES a Star would make a better title. But since when has she ever asked me?
Anna Belle: Well, after finally discovering the truth about my son's death and then attending Sophie Mae's wedding, my marriage has taken on new life. I've tried to tell Sophie Mae about it, but she always shies away from the gory details, bless her heart. Anyway, Calvin and I are going to Mexico for a second honeymoon. When I get back I'll start working on Sophie Mae to have a baby sooner than later. She's my only shot at becoming a grandmother, and she's not getting any younger. But from what I understand she's involved with another one of her "cases." At least this time she's tryng to prevent a murder before it happens instead of stumbling across corpses left and right.
Interviewer: Thank you both. I understand Mama Gets Hitched and Something Borrowed, Something Bleu will be officially released tomorrow, July 1st. With mothers like you in them, they're sure to be well received.
Anna Belle: It's been a lot of fun. And Rosalee? If you're ever out in Colorado, give me a ring and we'll have dinner.
Mama: Well, thank you, too, honey, for finally giving us our say. Anna Belle, I'd sure like to come by for dinner. You sound like my sort of gal. I'll bring my famous butterscotch pie for dessert.
Not sure if this is going to work, but Mama insists I TRY to spread the word about her getting married (It's Husband No. 5; you'd think she'd be used to it by now). Here's the link for the newsletter, I hope:
I shopped for wedding doo-dads today. Not favors for my OWN wedding, understand. Favors for a woman who doesn't really exist, and a ceremony that won't ever happen. The things authors do for their fictional characters!
With the launch of MAMA GETS HITCHED right around the bend, I've got weddings on the brain. And why wouldn't I? I just spent a year writing a mystery novel set around the Wedding of the Century in tiny (fictional) Himmarshee, Fla.
My Mama character loves weddings. So much so that she's tying the sacred knot for the 5th time. But what's a Bridezilla to do when her caterer winds up dead in the VFW kitchen even before they pass out the first pig-in-a-blanket? Daughter Mace must find the killer, or Mama's Special Day could turn especially deadly.
At some signings, we'll do fun, book-and-wedding-themed events -- women in fashion-mishap bridesmaid frocks, men in pastel tuxes and boutonnieres. I haven't actually found a Pomeranian ring-bearer, complete with satin tux and top hat, like the book's Teensy. Give me time, though. Mama would insist on nothing less.
I keep reading all this angst over how Facebook is mining details of users' personal lives. The social networking site is supposedly studying its zillions of 'bookers with cyber-microscopes, all the better to target us with smart-bomb niche marketing.
Well, I have proof that Facebook doesn't really know me after all.
An ad just popped up on my profile page from a company offering discounts in Fort Lauderdale. They got it half right: I do live in Fort Lauderdale, and I do love a bargain. But I'm way too lazy to click on a link, download an ad, and run upstairs to my printer to print out some lame discount. So, that's a big strike out, advertiser who is paying Facebook to market to me.
But here's even more evidence that Facebook doesn't get me,. Guess what the ad was touting. Pole-dancing lessons. As in, Let's pretend to be a stripper. Hello? Don't you have my date of birth, Facebook? Do you really think a 56-year-old woman wants to swing around a stripper's pole wearing scantly nothing? Plus, have you not seen my marital status? My husband of 21 years would probably bust a gut laughing if I ever put a pole in our bedroom. Either that, or he'd pull a muscle indulging his own fantasy of being a fireman.
So, I'm going to put off worrying about Facebook being an all-knowing Wizard of Marketing until I get some proof they REALLY know how to target me. When I see ads popping up promoting ibuprofen and hair coloring, AARP and retirement communities ... well, then I'll know that Facebook REALLY gets me.
Have you ever had a moment where you just knew you were going to screw up?
It happened to me the other day, at a presentation at the St. Lucie (Fla.) Family Reading Festival. The event was at the Digital Domain Stadium (A.K.A. Mets Field, where the New York Mets hold spring training). I was scheduled to speak at 1:30. The day was warm, and a brisk wind whipped through the upper breezeway of the ballpark, where the authors were.
Just as I took the microphone, the wind gusted. It lifted my little note cards off the seat where I'd stashed them. I watched as the cheat sheets for my presentation danced away and over the balcony, tumbling end over end toward third base on the field below.
I just knew I was going to screw up. I felt a gnawing in the pit of my stomach. I heard a buzzing in my ears. And then, amazingly, I felt free.
"Just wing it,'' my husband had advised, when I began doing these book appearances a year and a half ago.
"No way in hell,'' I'd answered. "I am not a just-wing-it person.''
The funny thing is, it's been a long time since I really needed the notes. I'm talking about my books, and my own life. I know this stuff, cold. But I always wanted those little note cards nearby, for safety. Suppose I forgot where I was going, heading off on some wild tangent? Suppose I never found the point I was trying to make?
I could always count on the notes to lasso me back. Until I couldn't. Until I saw them fluttering away like fallen leaves against that green ball field. It was scary. It was exhilarating. After a year and a half of never knowing whether I could get up and speak without those notes, I discovered I could.
Suddenly, I was winging it. I was working without a net.
Always one to elevate the tone of literary discourse, I did a radio essay today about cow patties.
Yep, you can count on me to really step right up --- SQUISH --- and reveal the truth about the glamorous life of book-touring.
Check it out if you have a minute (Two minutes and 11 seconds, to be exact.) Here's the link, from my favorite NPR station in Tampa. for Finding Old Florida.
What kind of a shameless, self-promoting author am I?
Not a very good one, apparently. It's been months since I've gotten around to updating my blog. In my defense, I HAVE been writing. I'm about halfway through my fourth Mace Bauer Mystery, MAMA SEES STARS. Woo-hoo!
But the big news tonight ... the reason I felt compelled to post ... is that the galleys are ready on No. 3, MAMA GETS HITCHED. It's up and available for pre-ordering with a simple click at Amazon or my publisher, Midnight Ink (Ah, yes ... there's that blatant self-promotion coming out: BSP, for short.)
The cover's another winner. I've been so lucky: Incredible designs for each of my three titles. They just keep getting better. Take a look at the cover, pictured above, and tell me what you think. (Nice touch: My name on the whiskey bottle!)
So forgive me a bit of BSP this evening. I'm a bit like ''Mama,'' who is convinced it's not at all tacky for her fifth trip down the aisle to have a Gone With the Wind-themed wedding -- complete with parasols and Southern belle gowns for her bridesmaid-daughters, and satin top hat for the Pomeranian bearing the rings. Like Mama and her nuptials, I've deluded myself into thinking it's not at all tacky to be out here in cyberspace, blowing my BSP horn.
I'm as nervous as a high school girl before the big prom. I'm going to Indianapolis this week for Bouchercon, a huge conference for all things mystery.
How's my dress? Will I get a corsage? Please, please tell me this little bump on my nose is not turning into a pimple!
I'll be among 400 or so other authors and more than 1,000 fans in attendance. I'm sure I'll feel lost in the masses, a nameless face in a bustling crowd. If I believed in the power of positive thinking or those self-affirming exercises, I'd be standing in front of the mirror right now repeating these words: ''You're a wonderful author. You'll be discovered. People will form long lines for the chance to buy your books.''
(OK, I actually DID say those words this morning ... just hedging my bets)
I got a slot on a panel, so that's the good news. 1:30 pm on Thursday, Southern Voices, with my friend and fellow author Vicki Lane, and the wonderful, funny Cathy Pickens moderating. The bad news: We're on against a program by the head guy for author relations with Amazon.com. So I know where all my writer friends are going to be, especially if Mr. Amazon is giving anything away. (And it's not sitting and listening to us drawl, y'all).
I'm looking on the bright side, though: Bouchercon gives me the chance to connect with people I might not have met otherwise. Indianapolis will be a nice break from the never-ending summer swelter of south Florida (It's October, for crying out loud. Can we get some relief from temps in the 90s and 2,000-percent humidity?) And, since there won't be a prom date with a powder blue tuxedo and a low tolerance for alcohol, I won't wind up with throw-up on my dress.
Who needs the New York Times? Publishers Weekly can go pound sand. And Oprah? Who'd want to sit on that stinkin' couch of yours anyway?
I have something even better than anointment from that Holy Trinity of book arbiters: A Happy Folder.
Recently, I had one of those days when I couldn't write a thing that didn't suck. When I pouted that PW hasn't reviewed my books, even though they've sprinkled their stars upon some of my fellow Midnight Ink authors. When I pondered hanging up fiction and returning to journalism.
Then I remembered that newspapers are sounding a death rattle, that nobody's hiring, and that friends and former colleagues in the media are losing jobs right and left.
In other words, not a happy day.
Until I got an email from a reader, telling me she loved my book. I thought back to why I left the news biz. I wanted to make people laugh, to bring some levity to a post-9/11 world that felt sad and deadly serious. And here was somebody writing to tell me I'd managed to do just that.
That's when I got the idea of sifting through my emails to create a feel-good folder. I'd fill it only with nice notes from readers. Here's one, from a woman in Birmingham, Ala:
My doctor had been concerned about my rising blood pressure, from stress of constant terrible news on TV. Your book was the perfect antidote: I laughed, felt like I actually knew your very real characters, and was so thoroughly relaxed that my blood pressure went down!
Here's another, from a reader who discovered the Large Print editions of my Mace Bauer Mystery series:
I get migraines from eye strain. It has been a long time since reading was fun for me until your books.
And another one, from a woman who said she's eagerly awaiting Book 3:
I couldn't wait to write and tell you how much I loved your book... funny, clever, LOL, great read ...
After paging through my Happy Folder, the day didn't seem so depressing after all.
PS to Oprah, if you're reading this. I didn't mean it about your couch.
My mama used to say, ''Never toot your own horn, honey. It's tacky!''
But I can't resist just a tiny bit of horn-tooting today. Fresh Fiction, a fun website devoted to bookish pursuits, named my second mystery, MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN, as a Fresh Pick.
I'm particularly pleased because SHOTGUN was a pick of the day during the same week the almighty Charlaine Harris was honored for Poppy Done to Death, and my good friend Peggy Webb was noted for her latest funny mystery, Elvis and the Grateful Dead. (Elvis is a basset hound who believes he's the King reincarnated ... and I thought the Mama character from my mystery series was wacky!)
Hear that musical sound in the background? That's me, tooting my horn like Louis Armstrong. What a Wonderful World!
Mystery author Deborah Sharp's personal blog on life, writing and otherwise
Welcome!
Thanks for visiting Mystery Gal, my oft-neglected blog. I do drop in from time to time, when the demands of writing and life let me. Mama Gets Trashed, the fifth book in my funny, Southern-fried mystery series, officially comes out Sept. 8, 2013, from Midnight Ink Books. You can read a short excerpt by clicking on each title's link. In order, my previous books were:
Check out DeborahSharp.com for way too much info about me and my Florida-set books. The ''Mama'' character in my mysteries runs my life; why not let her run yours, too? She dishes advice at Ask Mama
I love to hear from readers. Email me (spelled out to thwart the spammers): debsharp13 (at) yahoo (dot) com
Or, click here to follow Mama's adventures on Facebook.
A former reporter for USA Today, I left the news biz to write funny mysteries because I was tired of covering real-life, sad stories. Now, I get to say how the endings turn out.
I'm a native Floridian. My books are set in a down-home slice of the state most people don't even know exists.
Book One in my ''Mace Bauer Mystery'' series is MAMA DOES TIME (2008); Book Two is MAMA RIDES SHOTGUN (2009). MAMA GETS HITCHED came next, in 2010. The latest is MAMA SEES STARS (2011. Book No. 5, MAMA GETS TRASHED, will be out in 2013.
I've been married forever to Kerry Sanders, a TV reporter for NBC. No pets. No kids. We had goldfish once. Turned out badly.
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