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Pau hana (quit work) is here! We’re almost done. No, really!

It’s been an embarrassingly long time since we posted here. We’d like to think our silence is due to the amount of effort we’ve been putting towards our third book. Unfortunately, that’s only partially true. You all know that Life Happens in complete disregard to any plans we may have. The vagaries of making a living and making a life have limited the time we have devoted to writing. Also, we’ve been working on two short stories (that is, “expanding our literary horizons”). The good news is that the book, now officially titled With Murder You Get Sushi, will be published later this summer. Remember: summer doesn’t officially end until September 23rd. The plot and characters sing (figuratively: we haven’t written a musical, yet) and it is time for a very sharp red pencil, thesaurus, The Chicago Manual of Style and the Delete key to be dusted off and put to work.

Now for more about our short stories: we placed a short story in an anthology last year. However, the group editing and publishing the anthology had “creative differences” (the snobby literary term for “falling out”). We could have left our story with one of the editors (who did a fine job in eventually publishing the anthology); instead, we pulled the story to submit it to a different anthology more attuned to our style of writing (like italicizing the sex scenes. Okay, we made that up). We developed a second short story and submitted it, as well. We will know by next month if either story made the cut (they won’t take both).

While some authors can dash off a short story in weeks, our effort was more like a half-marathon than a dash. It took us several months to write the second short story and edit it to our standards (meaning, we both felt the victim definitely deserved what happened to him and so will the reader, hee hee).

In writing a short story, every word is important. There is no time for Jamesian flights of fancy that take the reader away from the main thread (in one of Henry James’s books, one character wanders around a room for nineteen pages or so contemplating the meaning of life, which is at least fifteen pages too many, yeesh). After writing two short stories, we feel we’ve honed our honing skills and have applied those assiduously to With Murder You Get Sushi. The good news for you, the reader, is that this mystery is crisper and clearer than the first two.

(Should I mention about how we cut nearly 20,000 words from the book and then had to amend the plot with more action so we could ensure it was long enough?)

No, don’t go into it or you’ll run on for paragraphs and bore our readers.

(Can I talk about our recent trip to O’ahu and Kaua’i to finalize our research?)

You can do than in the next blog.

(But the Mai Tai market research is critical to the plot.)

Any more market research and one of us will need a liver transplant.

(How about sharing pictures?)

Sigh. If you must. But no selfies.

Our artist, Sarah Perez, is busy developing ideas for our cover and we are eager to see what she has in mind.

(I like the one below.)


Nope, ain’t gonna happen.

So set your watches and begin the countdown to the next Miss-Information Technology Mystery. On second thought, you’d better use a calendar. Only 101 days, or less, until publication!

Books don’t write themselves, but there are occasions where books take a turn – during writing – that you as a writer didn’t expect, such as a minor character insisting on being front and center or a subplot taking steroids to become A Major Plot. In some cases, this is a welcome development, particularly where you are stuck for minutes, hours – OK, days – wondering “Why did Colonel Mustard use a lead pipe in the library when untraceable poison in the garden (where you could use the body for mulch) would have been so much tidier – and you’d get points for recycling?” It’s often a relief when a minor subplot bulldozes an unknown and previously unthought-of trail. Through a minefield. Without anyone losing any really important body parts.  Good riddance, lead pipe, hello untraceable poison (especially when lead is so environmentally harmful, eew).

We’ve recently experienced this whilst chugging along in Book 3, With Murder You Get Sushi. One of our characters (Edvard-the-crazy-Belgian, who made his appearance in a previous book) is a Designated Eccentric. His job as a minor character and Professional Paranoid is to espouse wild conspiracy theories, which get even wilder in Book 3 because he is working on a consulting engagement for a government customer (creates automatic dramatic tension when THEY are in the cubicle next to you and THEY are using the new darling of the tech world, Big Data).  When we began Book 3, the entire issue of government surveillance (which Edward is obsessed with) was background noise but has recently become front page news. 

We should add, “not merely government surveillance” because, it turns out, everybody wants a digital piece of you and me. Retailers want to use your cell phone to a) triangulate your position (in front of the lingerie counter, the shoe section, etc.) to determine b) exactly what you are looking at buying and c) target ads your way – and they are willing to trick your cell phone into coughing up that location information to do it.  Real-time, salacious (or should that be “solicitous”) advertising – a new market segment. (Except one of us really does not want to see a real time ad featuring someone younger and thinner whilst in the bathing suit department – way to pressure the customer, you idjits!)  The medical community is looking at having patients swallow pills that are really digital transmitters relaying the state of your gastro-intestinal tract. (Begging the question, “Does my colon look fat in this picture? Tell me the truth!”) No, we aren’t making this up.  Not only is truth stranger than fiction, it is more imaginative (depressingly so in many cases) than fiction.

Our paranoia began echoing Edvard’s once we began researching all the ways THEY (THEY being pretty much anybody you don’t want to know your business) can – and are – tracking you. The surveillance cameras that oversee so many doors, stores, intersections, ATMs and more. The collection of massive amounts of data – often without knowledge or consent – to try to slice, dice, parse and predict your life.  The dumbness of Connecting Stuff to the Internet that has no goldurn business being there (like, I dunno, putting household appliances on a network so THEY know when you open the refrigerator at 1 am to finish up the rest of the red velvet cupcakes which, as everyone knows, go bad if they are in the fridge overnight, so there).  So many people are willingly making their lives digital and therefore hackable – it’s news, but it is a surprise? Heck no – one of us has been predicting headlines like “family of five starves to death: locked out of their refrigerator by geeky neighbor” for years. Alas, it is all coming true.

And thus, one of the unintended consequences of technology is all the ways we can get digitally screwed. One of the unintended benefits – at least for us – is that we see no end to Edvard’s paranoia and the delightful and demented lengths he will go to so THEY can’t track him (fake ears, tin foil hats – in attractive styles, of course).  And, by-the-way, if you are reading this, “WE know where you are.” (Somewhere in the digital ozone, of course; what did you think we meant?)

Lest you think that Edvard is merely a clown in the proceedings, hopping into chapters to give the readers a laugh before the real action continues, let us assure you he is not. As a complete character, Edvard demands a more substantial role in the story. He may be a crazy Belgian, but Edvard comes through for his friends in the clutch. You’ll have to read the book to find out more.

Having named our current series “Miss-Information Technology Mysteries,” we’ve created a certain amount of pressure on ourselves to stay au courant with technology. This presents a problem, inasmuch as at least one of us is technophilic, or perhaps “technobarfic” would be more accurate, on account of having experienced (within a week, no less) her hard drive croaking, her digital phone going to bit heaven, and all the contacts on her iPhone mysteriously vanishing.  She attributes this bad byte karma to her abject failure to appease Karapola (pronounced “CRAPOLA”), the Hawaiian technology god, on her last trip to Hawai’i. She should have wrapped a microchip in a ti leaf and left it on the wall of the nearest heiau (temple) as a sacred offering of appeasement.


Back to our topic du bloggy jour, the conventional wisdom among fiction writers is to avoid mentioning issues or circumstances that might date one’s book. Perhaps this maxim arose because of the length of the traditional publishing model: a year to write a book, two years for the editing, marketing and publication work before the book launch, then six months to being remaindered.  Ouch. Perhaps some writers, aspiring to write great literature, confuse timelessness with the setting in time of a novel. Since we’ve chosen to self-publish and are clearly NOT writing literature – our characters do not have enough angst for that and in fact probably don’t know how to pronounce ‘angst’ – we’re free to toss ye olde conventional wisdom down the privy hole. (Those who know us realize we’re not much given to following conventional wisdom, anyway.)


So how much of a role does the latest and (not-so) greatest technology play in our stories? We’ll let you be the judge. Certainly we have a plot, character development and actions that are not technology dependent. However, the use and misuse (should we say “miss-use?”) of technology provide a nearly inexhaustible supply of humor. Edvard, introduced in Outsourcing Murder and returning for book three, is a consultant with a decidedly paranoid view of the world. How could Edvard not be aware and react to the fact that the NSA wants to read our minds while drones are counting the hairs on our heads? (Oop, another five grey ones today, or were before one of us plucked them. The other one relies on “better living through chemicals” to erase the predations of the Grey Hair Fairy.) Does that date the book? Yes and no. Edvard’s paranoia is an enduring feature; it does not depend on technology, but does feed on technological innovations as used in the invasion of privacy.


Similarly, our short story, “Heartfelt”, uses technology as a novel method of murder. Yet, the theme, revenge of the weak, is enduring. Were the story set in the 1890s, the killing might have been accomplished through an “accidental” application of a cattle prod. Move the story to France in the 2nd century AD and a screw wine press might by the weapon of choice. Once the author decides the victim needs to die a painful death (and trust us, our protagonist’s rotten ex-husband deserved everything he got and then some – literarily speaking, of course), technology in any age can provide the answer.


Since we’re not writing historical fiction, you won’t see cattle prods, screw wine presses, AOL accounts or Dell computers in our stories. (Okay, we’re only 98% sure on that last one.) You might find Google glasses, Recon Jets (Google glasses for athletes (1)), smart watches, drones and iPod toilet dock (“Did your predecessor flush? There’s an app for that!”) “


We should mention that “Heartfelt” has been accepted into Broken, an anthology of short stories to be published by Static Movement. We’ll let you know when the book is out. Also, and in the category of further embracing technology – even if keeping it at arm’s length seems safer and wiser – we’ve established as a domain name and you can email us at that address (


Lastly, in a momentous decision that may alter the orbit of earth and eliminate the scourge of climate change, we’ve also decided on a title for the third book. We’ve departed from the technology-inspired titles, as we realized that if we planned to write 20-30 books, we’d have trouble finding that many technological terms to match. So, say hello to With Murder You Get Sushi. As for its publication date … we’re not there, yet. All we can say is it will not be in 2013. Unless the gray hair fairy gets offed by our Muse, and the remaining 30,000 words or so all get delivered by a really, really cute FedEx guy, gift wrapped for Christmas. Good luck with that one!




We’ve all had the experience of reading a book about which we’d developed some expectations and being unpleasantly surprised by the content and/or outcome, like reading Hansel and Gretel and being shocked when the children killed the kind, old woman who had given them shelter and food. This after they destroyed her property by licking the frosting off her windows. Ungrateful snots.

One of us had a similar experience lately in reading a biography of a woman who played an important role in the 1989 Tiananmen Square uprising. The book covered her childhood, political activities in China and the aftermath of her flight and development of a new life in the US. And spent several chapters promoting a non-profit she founded, stopping just short of: “Join now! If you call us in the next 15 minutes, you’ll also receive a gen-you-wine turnip twaddler – absolutely free! Call 1-800-POORSAP! Operators are standing by.”

A detective-centered mystery by a grande dame was similarly disappointing when the conclusion, supported by 150 pages of development, proved not to be the correct one. The last forty pages revealed a different solution supported by facts the reader couldn’t possibly know – like the poison was a type found only in a remote part the Congo where killer’s plane had made an emergency landing ten years earlier en route from Cape Town to London. Puhlease! (Besides, with the Internet, everybody knows you can order murder material online from or

Then we have the “more than you really wanted to know” read like the 700 page Pulitzer Prize-winning biography of a person who really wasn’t worth more than 350 pages, especially when the writer devolved into “Noted Biographical Subject had a cup of tea at 11:35AM. He added a second lump of sugar at 11:43AM. He washed his cup at…”. TMI and it’s enough to make you wish Noted Biographical Subject had kicked the bucket 20 years (or the aforementioned 350 pages) earlier.

The point of these ramblings is about how easy it is as a writer to forget the reader’s perspective and thereby deliver a rotten reading experience. We’re all familiar with the parable of the six blind men, each feeling a different part of an elephant, coming to divergent conclusions on what it was. The one holding the tusk thought it was a spear, the man at the tail was sure he had a rope, and the blind man feeling the leg thought he had a column in his hands, and so forth. From a different vantage point, we see that the creature is an Indian elephant. As with a story, one needs to ensure all parts are covered, and that the whole presents a coherent story, consistent with the various parts. And in our case, consistent with the Miss-Information Technology Mystery series.

 How do we do this? Once way is to have early readers. In a draft of Denial of Service, we’d included some profanity. Not by Emma, of course! She’s limited to “gosh darn,” “by our lady,” “goldurns” and the like. This profanity was limited, and fit the character and or situation in the book. Still, it was negatively commented on by someone who read the draft, the implication being that our readers expected not to see any profanity. Consequently, we removed all the profanity and merely implied or mentioned its use by the character. While a mantra for authors is to “show, don’t tell” this was the time for the opposite approach: tell, but don’t show.

Other expectations that we believe we’ve set with our readers are that the books will be humorous, the mystery will be solved with the help of friends and family and technology will play a part in the story if we don’t get too far into the nerdy weeds. Also, we don’t do serial murders, the victim isn’t entirely a nice person and the murder is not a beloved character, either. Most importantly, no animals are harmed in the telling of the story. (Seriously, one of us will not read books where pets get hurt. Except perhaps a rap on the nose after being told for the eleventieth time Don’t Chew Mommy!)

As we labor away on the third book, we are conscious of what our readers expect, and yet, also concerned about not becoming formulaic. Okay, not entirely formulaic. We’ve added a few twists:

  • Characters revealing new facets of their personalities
  • The victim is not someone Emma knows
  • The murder weapon is a laser-guided pterodactyl
  • Emma becomes engaged and Stacey becomes pregnant
  • The locale for most of the action is Hawai’i, not San Francisco

 Okay, not all of the above is true; we have to have a few surprises, don’t we? First Clue for Our Devoted Readers: we can state categorically that no actual pterodactyls will be harmed in the writing of this book.



We’ve been kind of silent on the blog front recently, mostly because we are making a big push to write Book 3 (oh, and we just submitted a short story for publication which, while it doesn’t feature our protagonist Emma, nonetheless has a technological base and – we think – a good use of humor). Book 3, as I think we’ve mentioned, takes places in Hawai’i so, in addition to other arduous tasks, we are busy planning some market research (i.e., another surf trip to Hawai’i, kupaianaha (yippee!)).

It hasn’t all been long hours at the PC or Mac. One of us recently attended a nerdy security conference  (is there any other kind?) at which, in addition to seeing a lot of old friends, she got to sign a lot of books (her employer graciously bought a number of copies of Outsourcing Murder and Denial of Service as giveaways in the corporate booth). Book signing was a lot of fun and thus far, the recipients of the books seem to like them (at least, if anybody hates them, they haven’t emailed, called, or posted on Facebook to say what an icky read either of them were).

The conference was inadvertently another opportunity to do market research, some of which will likely end up in Book 3. Any conference typically contains people breathlessly talking about the New Cool Topic and conference papers have a surfeit of references to New Cool Topic.  New Cool Topic, 95% of the time, is just a Boring Old Topic dressed up in new duds. Think “the look that is being pushed in Fashion Week, which everyone exclaims is Simply Marvelous even if the average woman wearing whatever the In Thing is looks like a tulle-covered toilet.” At the nerdy security conference, the New Cool Topic was Big Data. Big Data, for those who don’t already know, is – well – Big. Really Big.

Big Data, for those who are not acolytes worshipping at the altar, is not merely Data that has taken too many steroids, oh no. It’s the idea that you collect every possible piece of information you can – “if you can collect it, you should, because gee, you might need it some day, so just collect simply everything!” – analyze it for trends, and predict who is going to pick his nose at 2PM next Tuesday based on your analysis and will need your brand of Kleenex at 2:01PM. (Ok, I made that last bit up.) But the premise of Big Data is that you can Detect Big Trends based on it or, in the security context, which is what the conference focused on, you can do stuff like determine you are under attack by Bad Guys or (to be inclusive) Bad Girls. Big Data is interesting to us not only because it is one of the new technological religious cults (“On the sixth day, God created Big Data, and saw that it was Good”) but also because the combination of Big Data and cheap sensors makes for a lot of potential humor.

For example, what if a company … attached sensors to their employees to determine what they did every moment of the working day (the ostensible justification is so the company can continuously improve, rightsize, achieve six sigmoid – er, six sigma – or any other buzzword of corporate goodness)? What if they correlated things like, oh, what an employee ordered in the cafeteria with the activities the sensor tracked like … say … time in the bathroom. And what if the company decided that the cafeteria shouldn’t serve so much fiber (because employees were spending too much time … you know … and were thus less productive – unless you measure productivity in units of fertilizer, eww). See what we mean? Big Data, we hope, will lead to Big Laughs in Book 3.(1)

A minor character who has made appearances in our earlier books will feature more prominently in Book 3. He is a conspiracy nut (no, not “who shot JFK?” type-conspiracy, but “THEY know too much about you” conspiracies). And in fact, the combination of Big Data, the Internet (especially people blabbing too much on it) and the surveillance society makes for a lot of small seeds from which big conspiracies can grow. We’re counting on it.((2)

(1) You think we’re making this up, don’t you? We’re not. Companies that have used sensors include Bank of America, Cubist and Kimberly-Clark; one of them did redesign the cafeteria based on their findings.

(2) For conspiracy believers everywhere, try stealth wear:




We were raised to be respectful, law-abiding citizens. I won’t say that we’ve never criticized our government, vociferously, to all who would listen, nor that we haven’t broken a few laws along the way, such as the speed limit and running a dark orange light. (Okay, maybe the light was pink, but it wasn’t red, really.) But, we’ve never been concerned about being on the government’s radar as a ‘persons of interest’ ­­– until recently. 

One of us was on an authors panel last month explaining to the audience that Maddi seeks to ensure that the technology and science the Miss-Information Technology Mystery books and (soon to be published) short story are “plausible.” We are not trying to write a “how-to” manual on hacking or murder (however angry we are at former boyfriends, the worst we have contemplated is using their name in a book, adding fifteen pounds and a bad comb over – oh wait, we did that. However, we’d like to be accurate in the portrayal of the workings of science and the potential of technology. It’s that striving for authenticity which is, frankly, now making us nervous. Our research is becoming hazardous.

Put your mind at rest; we’ve not actually killed anyone using the methods in our first two books. Let me rephrase that: we’ve not killed anyone, period. True-to-life research has been within the bounds of proper behavior: shooting guns (no assault rifles, except M16s that the Navy made us shoot and a couple of trigger pulls on an M60), trying out tropical drinks, surfing, getting tattoos … oops, scratch that last one. Researching hacking, murdering and other illegal activities has been conducted through consultations with experts (not the perps, but those who capture them) and searching the Web. 

Our third book – nowhere near completion – includes a scene involving the cultivation of cannabis or, as it is known in Hawai’i, pakalolo. As neither of us grows such a crop in our gardens (nor do we know anyone who does), one of us spent a great deal of time online researching strains that grow well in Hawai’i, visual and olfactory characteristics of those strains, how and where to cultivate, and the best ways to hide the illicit garden from the government. We’d be surprised if our Internet travels were unknown to the authorities. And we wouldn’t be surprised to be met at Honolulu airport on our next trip by members of Operation Green Harvest, Hawai’i’s cannabis eradication program. They won’t be bringing us leis. Though a fresh lei of pakalolo leaves would celebrate local culture. 

By virtue of her day job, one of us has a legit reason to be searching online for information about hacking. Supplemented by a little Internet work and talking with colleagues in the security business garnered what we needed for the first two books. However, bereft of contacts in the spy business, we searched online for information about bugs, er, listening devices (used in Denial of Service.  Our story is that we were looking for baby monitors that we could hide from inquisitive infants. Really!) 

We’ve been searching for novel ways to use “killer technology,” so to speak. Why use a firearm if you can just hack into a self-driving car (like the one driven by that annoying neighbor who won’t turn his headbanger music down after nine at night) and with a few remote commands, “oopsie” – now how did that car go over the guardrail on a really steep curve? And how about implantable medical devices, like insulin pumps, pacemakers and the like? For our short story, we’ve been researching how to hack these medical devices to cause, er, um, severe discomfort.  One of us even emailed a technologist, who published a paper in the field, asking if he’d answer a few questions. Does no response mean he’s ignoring the request, or that he’s already reported us to the authorities? (Honestly, any real malefactor would research murder methods in a library she doesn’t usually frequent.) 

And if these little research projects aren’t enough to cause concern, then maybe our recent probing into how to make an explosive device is. Using search terms such as “fertilizer as explosive” should put us on someone’s radar, shouldn’t it? More frightening than the specter of being considered a threat is what one finds in such a search: videos that show, step by step, how to make a bomb. (No, we DID NOT watch them).

One can also watch videos of explosions using varying levels of explosives. Yes, we watched those; we wanted to know the size of the explosive needed to cause appropriate destruction so we could determine how to disguise it in the story. However, after this research experience, we’ve decided to draw a line in the sand: no nuclear explosions in our stories. A few characters may “go ballistic” but only descriptively speaking. 

Naively, we at first thought our military service (no silver stars, but no court marshals, either) would prove that we were loyal Americans and no threats to the government. But have you noticed lately how the U.S. Government has come out and said that ex-military are a potential terrorist threat? Was that a signal that they’ve noticed our research? And do they know that one of us lives in Idaho (you can buy makeup and ammunition at the same store – how convenient) and the other drives a car with a Virginia “Don’t Tread On Me” license plate? 

I’m not saying we will, mind you, but just in case, if it comes to that, are any of you willing to illustrate Maddi Davidson’s line of children’s bedtime stories? C3PO meets C4? Or Chicka Chicka Boom Boom BOOM!?


Like many writers, we seek literary escapism in the writing of … other writers. (Wow, that was recursive, wasn’t it?) To restate in English, reading your own work multiple times isn’t much of an escape. It’s more like a trap. For one thing, you already know whodunnit, which significantly diminishes the suspense. Secondarily, and given the amount of work that goes into getting a book out the door, reading your own work ex post facto can be a nightmare, one in which you dream that, despite reviewing your work 18 times or paying a professional to do the same, you found a typo only after publication, such as using “grizzly” instead of “grisly” to describe a murder scene. (Note: the former only works if the killer was an ursus arctos horribilis (grizzly bear). One of us actually did find that mistake in a murder mystery that she finished reading last weekend. She notes that no grizzly bears – or teddy bears – appeared in the mystery, which takes place in England in the 1930s.)

There are many mystery writers whose work we enjoy as a pleasant escape from the grind (dark roast, of course) of writing and whose protagonists we reference in our book, e.g. Hercule Poirot (Agatha Christie), Amelia Peabody (Elizabeth Peters) and Nancy Drew (Carolyn Keene) Without further ado, we therefore tip our (warning: shameless reference to Denial of Service follows) obnoxiously lime green tam o’shanter to a few of our favorite mystery writers.

When we just need to laugh-out-loud we turn to – no surprise – Janet Evanovich. We particularly enjoy the Stephanie Plum series (beginning with One for the Money and sequentially “numbered” to the “just out but we haven’t read it yet” Notorious Nineteen). Regardless of how many times a “shtick” appears in one of her books, she finds new ways to make it funny. For example, her heroine, skip tracer Stephanie Plum, has an unfortunate tendency to have her cars explode, at least once a book on average. Not to mention, Stephanie’s sidekick Lula, a former ‘ho who thinks nothing of shoving her ample frame into brightly colored (and many sizes smaller) spandex is a hoot. Lula’s idea of a diet is leaving the whipped cream off her second helping of pie, a sentiment we relish (whipped cream counts as serving of dairy, right?) We look forward to a new Plum mystery the same way we enjoy finding a new kind of M&M’s. (And just like M&M’s, a Plum mystery is to be devoured voraciously and without a smidgen of guilt.) We enjoy Ms. Evanovich’s work so much that we found it a particularly nice compliment when a reviewer of Outsourcing Murder compared Emma Jones to Stephanie Plum.

When we’re in the mood for gentle humor, we read Alexander McCall Smith, author of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series (the first of which is The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency and the most recent of which, the 13th, is The Limpopo Academy of Private Detection). The series has become immensely popular and has recently been made into a perfectly wonderful HBO series. His main character, Precious Ramotswe, a “traditionally sized lady,” is the founder and owner of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency in Botswana. The mysteries are less “dead body in the den” than missing person or husband’s suspicious behavior (did the wife really want to know the truth?) The subplots are as interesting as the main mystery, involving as they do matters of the heart, or matters of heartbreak. Other characters are stalwartly drawn, from Mr. J.L.B. Maketone of Tlokweng Speedy Motors (who keeps Precious’s tiny white van running) to her secretary (who scored 97% percent on the Botswana Secretarial College exam – a record! – as she often reminds other characters). Each book is a charming gem, teaches you something about Botswana and leaves you singing “Africa Africa Africa Africa” in your heart.

We can’t claim direct, tangible inspiration from Jacqueline Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs series but only because Emma hasn’t mastered time travel yet. Maisie Dobbs, the protagonist of the series, is a former ambulance driver in the Great War who later becomes a psychologist and investigator of sorts. Ms. Winspear manages to do something very difficult for mystery writers or even most writers: the resolution (“who shot John?”) is secondary to the writing. You want to reread her books, even after you know whodunnit, because of the quality of her writing and the human face she brings to the Great War and the years thereafter. While our education barely touched on the 1920’s except for flapper fashion and Jazz Age music, Jacqueline’s books improve our understanding of the difficult time in Britain during those years. She explores everything from the horrific injuries many servicemen experienced (e.g., the aftereffects of chemical warfare (mustard gas)), to the shortage of marriageable men, to the rise of Nazi Germany (and the many people in England who admired Hitler, before they didn’t).

Far from the riotous humor of Janet Evanovich and the gentle renderings of Alexander McCall-Smith and Jacqueline Winspear is the suspense-filled world of C.J.Box. The Joe Pickett series comprise many of his books. Joe is a Wyoming game warden and the series showcases the wilderness, those who inhabit it and love it, and those who attempt to protect it. Wild mountain men? Check. Eco-terrorists? Check. Poachers after trophy animals out of season? Check. Jurisdictional arm wrestling among law enforcement agencies? Check. Humor? Not deliberately. After finishing a Joe Pickett novel, you feel you’ve experienced everything the wilderness has to offer except mosquitoes and black flies. Oh, and litter from tourists who won’t pack it out. And serious amounts of elk doo-doo, which the one of us who lives in Idaho knows a lot about. The first rule of hiking: watch out for the umgawa.

We appreciate our devoted fans (we believe we have developed a few besides out mother who is, after all, somewhat partisan). We hope someday to have the breadth of enthusiastic following that the above writers have. In the meantime, we thank them for many hours of unapologetic escapist pleasure and hope our readers will discover and love them, too.

Next blog: Mystery writers envisioning murders at every turn

Both of us are taking a small breather after the publication of Denial of Service. The breather is for at least three reasons. One, we are, for the moment, heartily sick of reading Denial of Service, as much as we like the book (it’s like eating turkey for five straight days after Thanksgiving: no matter how delicious the bird, enough, already!). Two, we are concentrating on marketing activities for DoS (e.g., readings at book stores). Three, one of us has been doing market research for book 3, the working title of which is Murder Mo’ Bettah and which takes place in Hawai’i.

Truth in advertising: “market research” is a slightly grandiose term for what was, in reality, a desperately needed vacation for one of us, who booked 7 days in Hawai’i because she can operate on “autopilot” when there and because she wanted to surf her brains out. (Being a blond, surfing her brains out admittedly did not take all that long.) The other of us gave the vacationer some pointers on “needed market research” for book three in terms of finding background material, getting a feel for local color, and the like, much of which was ignored in the interests of “market research on who makes the best Mai Tai on Waikīkī Beach.” (Whee.) Note: the answer to that question is indubitably the Halekulani for a multiplicity of reasons, including the fact that pineapple juice – which most watering holes on Waikīkī insist on adding to their Mai Tais – has Absolutely No Place in a Mai Tai. (The Halekulani also has a delightful concoction known as a Liliko’i (Passion Fruit) Daiquiri that is not only delicious but counts as a serving of fruit. As everyone knows.)

No matter how familiar someplace seems to you if you go there a lot – and both of us have been to Hawai’i many times – writing about a place is different than visiting it. More to the point, you can go to the same place many times, yet not really see it. The request was for specific “background/color” for the book and this, the vacationer spent time actually looking at what she had experienced so many times.

One of the more colorful aspects of Waikīkī (besides the frequent ‘anuenue – rainbows – as showers move over the Ko’olaus – is the evening “street scene.” Kalākaua Avenue – the closest thing to a “main drag” in Waikīkī and the street that fronts most of the hotels as well as Kuhio Beach before it peters out around Kapi’olani Park – is always active but never more so than at night. For starters, you have a slew of people handing out pamphlets for everything from going to the gun range (an indoor shooting range on Waikīkī) to how to find Jesus. (Hint: He’s not lost: you are!)*

Then, there are the “living statues” (maybe there is a more au courant term for them but we do not know what it is): the folks who dress up in silver (or gold or black) painted clothing with silver (or gold or black) body paint, who don’t move for – a long time. (Donations welcome.) There are also street musicians (e.g., an 11-year-old kid playing Hawaiian music on a trumpet, for something completely different). (Donations welcome.) There are street artists – either caricaturists or those who do chalk drawings on the pavement. (Donations welcome.) There are also street vendors of lei (Hawaiian flower garlands) or practitioners of lau hala (the weaving of fronds of the hala tree into hats, bowls and the like). To set the scene for all these characters, we have the chain of “tourist paraphernalia and kōkua (help) known as ABC Stores. Whatever you forgot to pack or need to enjoy the water, prevent sunburn or recover from sunburn because you picked a wussy SPF, you can find it at an ABC Store, and there is one every 65 feet or so on every street beginning with a ‘K’ in Waikīkī.**

There is more, much more, in the area of background material that we have both catalogued for book 3. One of them may not make it into the book, but it is the reason we continue to love Hawai’i and makes it so special: the air. As soon as you get off the plane, whether it is in Honolulu or Kona or Līhue, you are bathed with air that is the perfect (not too hot, not too cool) temperature, that has moisture (but isn’t disgustingly humid) and is scented with plumeria. The air in Hawai’i is like nowhere else: the fabled trade winds caress you and your ‘uhane (soul) feels refreshed and restored.

*One of us notes that these street scene participants are all welcome upgrades from the slew of Hare Krishnas in years past (whose endless cymbal clanging and near frantic jumping around made one want to rush up and direct them to the nearest men’s room to relieve their obvious distress) and “extremely well dressed ladies of the evening” that used to frequent Waikīkī in the years when we first started going there.

**That’s a joke. In Hawai’i, with the exception of a few “grandfathered” English names, all streets have Hawaiian names and most of those begin with ‘K’ on account of the direct article in Hawaiian begins with a ‘K’. So we have (just in Waikīkī): Kalākaua, Kuhio, Koa, Kapuni, Ka’iulani. Kapahulu, etc.

The above title is not a reflection of the imminent election on November 6. Maddi has her – should I say ‘our’ – electoral preferences but is apolitical for literary purposes, and rightly so. We think enjoying a good murder mystery is a distinctively non-partisan activity and we want fans who enjoy our writing, not our political opinions.

Ergo, the above title is a not-so-subtle way of announcing, for those who did not hear our collective “yeehah!” from three states away (excepting Alaska and Hawai’i), that the second book in our Miss-Information Technology Mystery Series, Denial of Service, is now available in print and ebook versions. Phew.

Before we hoist a collaborative glass of something interesting (I’d say “champagne” but my co-writer is less than enthusiastic about it and would prefer a good mojito), it’s time for accolade awarding. Producing another book is a joint activity, but it is fair to say that one of us spent the majority of our collective energy reviewing, in painstaking detail, the final proof, then the final final proof, then made the edits to the final final proof, and so on, which constitutes “above and beyond” not only the call but the font and grammar of duty. Therefore, the Award for Most Eyes Glazed goes to the ‘D’ part of Maddi: thank you and well done. A new pair of reading glasses are yours along with an engraved bottle of White Out.

A second award goes to the fastest order of the new book……a one Art C., who ordered a book a scant three or four minutes after we announced on Facebook that the new book was available. Thanks for being a loyal fan, Art, and the payoff money should arrive soon … er … ”our appreciation is boundless.”

A third award, for Ripping Retail Sales, goes to Cheryl Thomas of Chapter One Bookstore in Ketchum, Idaho. One of us had barely dropped off 25 copies of our book (they were still on the counter), when she sold two of them. Aside – there is a new book, entitled My Bookstore that chronicles writers’ favorite independent bookstores. (Yes, I know it is ironic to show a link to Amazon regarding a book about independent bookstores. Do your independents a favor – read the book reviews on Amazon and then buy or order from your local bookseller. Nobody else lets you browse through books – nothing like actually holding a book in your hands – remembers you and what you like or can rhapsodize (and quote from) A River Runs Through It.) Anyway, Chapter One Bookstore is mentioned in My Bookstore, another reason we like shopping there. Cheryl has been a one-woman marketing machine for our books (she’s also invited one of us to do a reading in conjunction with an event for My Bookstore and is a wonderful person, besides). A bottle of champagne is in order and will be delivered soon: yes, indeedy.

A logical question to ask exhausted authors is “What next?” If it’s not too early to start shilling, we are at work on book three (though, admittedly, it’s not really a book yet but an outline, a plot, a few draft chapters and a gleam in our collective eyes.) It is set in Hawai’i and one of us is about to go surfing…er…go do market research in Hawai’i. Working title is Murder Mo’ Bettah. Though we think it is entirely possible we can come up with a mo’ bettah title than that. One of us has been busy suggesting specific market research the other can do in HI (the other thinks it is critically important that descriptions of tropical drinks are accurate and plans on checking out different samples at multiple watering holes to ensure that our descriptions are giggly…er…glib). The research we will not be doing is related to exactly how a body looks after the car it has been in is blown up. Though one of us is feeling slightly hostile after the 6th call in one day seeking funds for a candidate or polling for the election, grrr, we both believe that violence doesn’t solve anything. (Unless, of course, there is a dispute over the last pair of really cute sandals in my size that are on sale in which case, I saw them first and no holds barred.)

We also have a short story in the queue that we are still considering how to put in the hands of our devoted readers. Or even vaguely interested readers – at this point in our budding (which is at least better than “wilting”) literary careers, all readers are welcome, though we admit that the kind who like our book and add favorable reviews (hint, hint) are readers we particularly like.

There’s another activity we are doing post book 2– looking at ways we can find other potential readers, otherwise known as “marketing.” We decided to take a low-key approach to this essential activity after our first book was published, and concentrate instead on completing the second book. Now that we have the series underway, it’s time to get out there and sell, sell, sell! Already, we’ve discovered that two books are easier to sell than just one. One of us just spent a couple hours at a mystery authors event, signing books, and sold a goodly number of both books.

Even amidst moving from publishing to pushiness … er … promotion, we will take a brief moment for the other “p” – no, not “pooped,” but “proud.” The book isn’t perfect, but we are pretty dang happy with our efforts. Now, off to find a fresh lime for that mojito, and we hope you enjoy Denial of Service.

Plotting a murder mystery requires answering a few basic questions, starting with who dies, how and why. One is tempted to choose the idiot in the black Lexus (who tailgated so closely, you could see the whites of his eyes in the rearview mirror), swerved into a merge lane to drive past the crawling traffic and then cut right in front of you, nearly clipping your bumper and who then gave you the finger when you beeped your horn. Visions of his battered Lexus lying at the bottom of a ravine (recently filled with cow dung) whet your literary juices … but we digress. Back to the question at hand: whom to kill and how? (“Colonel Mustard in the library with a wrench” has been done. Mrs. Mustard had nagged her husband to fix the plumbing for the eleventeenth time that morning while he was in the middle of working the crossword puzzle, so, really, who can blame him?)

Recently, one of us spent some time at the gun range with other mystery writers engaged in “field research.” No one was killed at the range, tempting as it was to eliminate the competition in our target market segment (no pun intended).  We had the opportunity to handle a weapon that is responsible for more than half the murders in the United States: the handgun. (Another ten to fifteen per cent of murders are from rifles.) Both of us served in the military, where we learned to fire a semiautomatic weapon in the interests of national defense, but given the difficulty of fitting an M16 into a purse – even a really big purse – learning to wield a handgun is something both of us have separately given a whirl to, for different reasons. (Not to make light of learning to use a deadly weapon, which really is a serious responsibility.)

As a murder weapon, handguns are pretty straightforward. The question of caliber needs to be decided, as not all handguns are created equal in terms of stopping power and accuracy. We don’t want to get too graphic here, but killing someone with a .22 caliber requires a high degree of accuracy while using a larger caliber induces more damage but necessitates carrying around a heavier weapon.  As one of us explained to another woman contemplating a handgun purchase, “A .38 doesn’t have enough stopping power, a .45 has too much recoil, but a 9MM, as Goldilocks would say, is just about right. Oh, and you can’t go wrong with a black one – always a good fashion choice.”

Your choices in literary gun-related deaths – other than “point, aim, shoot and hide the body” are limited. Yes, you could have an accident while hunting rabbits (is it really an accident? “Wabbits are vewy, vewy twicky,” as Elmer Fudd reminds us). A forgettable minor character could be felled by a trick shot requiring a richochet off a steel beam. A detective could be puzzled by an interesting pattern of holes (twelve shots in the back forming the border of Albania).

 In mysteries set in the world of police, criminals and professional detectives, it is easy to explain away a panoply of armed suspects. However, our protagonist, a 20-something female technology consultant living in San Francisco, does not spend her life in this world and doesn’t conveniently subscribe to Murderers Monthly and isn’t conversant in rifling patterns, blood spatters, and other arcane elements of death-by-bullet. Not that we are ruling out guns for future murders, but for the novels we’re currently working on, we’ve chosen other means of eliminating characters (no, not WhiteOut – we prefer modern methods, such as the search and replace function in Word – tee hee!). Enjoying as we do a well-placed send-up of technology, we are trying to figure out how someone can die during an upgrade. (Heaven knows many end users have been viciously tortured during them.) Considering how much software and hardware now permeates our world, including medical devices, cars, “smart” meters and other types of devices that used to be “unwired and a lot more reliable,” there is almost no place for Joe-Bob or Janey-Sue to hide from technology these days, so much of which can be turned to the dark side – we have reason to know.

After Guns, Cutting and Stabbing is the next most popular murder method (ten to fifteen percent), followed by Personal Weapons (hand, feet, fists) and Other (poison, explosives, narcotics, etc.), each of which accounts for five to ten percent of murders. Completing the list are Blunt Objects (~ five percent) and Fire.

Readers of mysteries know that many authors gravitate towards these less popular forms of murder as they provide an opportunity for some originality, e.g., the cricket bat (Blunt Object) used in Outsourcing Murder. In all honesty, we don’t know if the cricket bat is the most commonly-used Blunt Object since FBI statistics did not provide further category detail. (Is running a car off the road a Blunt Object or Other? What if the car bursts into flames after running the victim off the road, does it qualify as Fire? Again, we don’t know.)

Using a less common form of murder also allows the author to develop a mini-mystery about the specific item used. For example, in the case of a blunt trauma to the head: what object was used? Of what significance is the object? Who has it and is that person guilty? Why hit someone over the head instead of inserting the weapon in an interesting orifice? (“Ear,” of course, what else would we mean?)

In Denial of Service (available October, 2012) the murder weapon falls under Cutting and Stabbing. No further details at this time – you’ll have to read it – but the murder weapon is not just any old knife and is personally significant to the victim. And in book 3 – underway but not named – the weapon of choice is Other.

Certainly the choice of the murder weapon is not independent of the killer’s motive and frame of mind. In simple terms, was this a planned murder? If so, then the killer is much more likely to use a gun or poison, rather than the antique silver candlestick on the mantle (does anybody know why there was a wrench in the library for Colonel Mustard to oh-so-conveniently use?). But an impulse kill … well, the possibilities are endless: knocked unconscious and stomped to death by camels; hit over the head with a Stradivarius and thrown off a twenty-story building; pushed into an exhibit of hungry sharks; or all of the above. We get giddy just thinking about it.

Regardless of how the victim was done in, in a comic mystery there is one other factor that is illustrated by an anecdotal story about Franklin Roosevelt, who surmised that nobody actually listens to the polite mutterings that take place in a reception line. He decided to test his theory by saying, as he shook the hand of countless people at a reception in the White House, “I murdered my grandmother this morning.” The story goes that nobody heard what he said, except one reporter who nodded, smiled back and responded, “Well, she certainly had it coming, didn’t she?” Murder is serious business, but in at least a few cases, we admit to thoughts of “Well, he certainly had it coming, didn’t he?” as we plot a character’s demise.



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