Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Author Lilian Jackson Braun

Some of our blog readers might remember Lilian Jackson Braun, author of the Cat Who cozy mystery series. Sadly she passed away in 2011. 

Her books sometimes drew mixed reviews, as is the case with most book reviews. Some thought her work was simplistic and formulaic, with scanty plotting. Other reviewers praised their warmth and charm. Personally, I enjoyed them. I knew exactly what I was going to find between the covers. And what made Lilian Braun’s books come alive were the cats. For cat lovers, these books were the cat’s meow. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.)

For anyone who hasn’t read the series, the protagonist was former newspaper reporter, Jim Qwilleran. But his cats, a set of Siamese named Koko and Yum Yum, were the stars. Each book was full of details about cat stuff--purring, eating (lobster, amongst other high class food), playing, and, of course, the cats helping Qwilleran solve his mysteries. Koko and Yum Yum usually did this by being slightly naughty--like pulling a book off the shelf at a most opportune time to give Qwilleran a clue.

Lilian Jackson Braun, was born in Massachusetts in 1916 and began her writing career as a teenager, when she wrote sports poetry for the Detroit News. For years she wrote advertising copy for Detroit department stores. Between 1966 and 1968, she published three novels that gained critical acclaim: "The Cat Who Could Read Backwards," "The Cat Who Ate Danish Modern," and "The Cat Who Turned On and Off." In 1966, the New York Times labeled Braun “the new detective of the year.” She was a hit. What author wouldn't love that? But then she disappeared from the publishing scene for 18 years. That’s a long time to be away from writing novels. Braun said she stopped writing the mysteries because the genre had begun to include more sex and violence. Also, she had a full-time job with the Detroit Free Press that she found satisfying.

When she retired from her job in 1984, her husband encouraged her to write novels again. In 1986, the Berkley Publishing Group reintroduced her work with the publication of "The Cat Who Saw Red." In the next two years, Berkley released four new novels in paperback and reprinted her first three from the sixties. Her series once again rose to the top of the best seller list. 

Braun was an admitted technophobe and wrote all her books in long hand, then typed them herself. She was married twice. Her first husband died. She had been married to her second husband for 32 years when she passed away. 

As an author, I respect another author who writes a successful series that spans so many years. The fact that Braun made a comeback after 18 years of not writing novels is also encouraging—it’s never too late to start again. And she stuck to her guns--there was never any gratuitous sex or violence in her novels.

After Jackson passed away (of a lung infection), her second husband, Earl Bettinger, said her one regret was that her failing health prevented her from finishing her last novel, “The Cat Who Smelled Smoke.”

“She regretted it most of all because so many fans wanted another book,” Earl Bettinger said.

Now that is a true author!

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Growing Old With Grace


This doesn't have a whole lot to do with books but I thought with my 60th birthday passing by on May 25th this would be a timely post. I wrote this about the time I had my first book published and I want to keep on writing as long as I can. Yes, I still feel melancholy sometimes, but most of the time I don't even think of my age.  I want others to know you can achieve your goals, too, no matter your age. You just need the passion and perseverance.


Growing Older with Grace or


I Thought I was still Fourteen until I Looked in the Mirror


     I had arrived at my Aunt Helen’s funeral. I looked around the old wooden church building, one I had visited many times as a child, in hopes of spotting my cousins. There they were! I was shocked! Someone had stolen my cousins and zipped them up in old people’s bodies. I couldn’t believe it.


     They weren’t supposed to have gray hair and wrinkled faces. And what was Uncle Bill doing sitting up front? Uncle Bill had died many years ago – oh, that’s not Uncle Bill that’s my cousin Billy.


     Then the realization hit me. I was the same age as my cousins. Did I look old to them? I must have because everyone kept saying I looked like my mother.


     I made it through the funeral with many tears shed. I loved my Aunt Helen. She was my Daddy’s sister and she understood him and loved him even though he could be stubborn as a mule. While they were showing the pictures slides of my Aunt Helen and her family, memories came flooding back.


     There was Uncle Bill and Aunt Helen together as I remembered them. We would go to Phenix City, Alabama often to visit my Daddy’s other sister Aunt Maudie. When we did we never failed to go out to the old home place and play with our cousins and have an evening meal. After the funeral I visited the home place and the old farmhouse where we had many wonderful times that weaved a blanket of memories was no longer there.


     The barn was, though. As we drove up the long sandy driveway I spotted the barn. Memories literally flooded my mind. The tears flowed and would not stop. They lasted all the way home – a four hour drive, and for three more days. I had so many mixed emotions. Why was I crying?


     I called my friend and asked her was I going crazy. She assured me that I wasn’t – I was already there. With that being said she told me she had gone through similar feelings.


     I felt a loss for that little girl who used to play barefooted for hours at a time with her cousins and then when she was worn out be called in to have a family meal. We were all seated around one long wooden table with benches on both sides. The table, spread with home grown vegetables, was a place to visit and talk with those you loved at the end of the day. After supper, Aunt Helen served the best apple turnovers ever made.  


     I longed for the time when things were simpler. A time when we didn’t have any and everything electronic to occupy our minds. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my computer and cell phone, but that simple time will never return. A time when children used their imaginations during play. I missed my mother. I missed my daddy and I missed my childhood.


     I think the hardest realization to deal with was my own mortality. Out of eleven children there is only one of Daddy’s sisters still living. On my mothers side there is only a brother. I am in the next generation that will start to pass away into a better life. And even though I knew there is a better and everlasting life that awaits me the thought of my own mortality hit me like a ton of bricks.


     I didn’t know what to do with the emotions. I had a decision to make. To give up and decide I was too old to do the things I love or find a way to keep the negative thoughts at bay and make the rest of my life count.  Three books later guess which way I chose?





    




    







Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Cozy Kozar's New Release--That Wasn't Chicken


Murder, mystery meat and morning sickness! Hudson and Lovita are expecting and she’s having trouble keeping food down for the first time in her life. Her best friend, Sue Jan is busy juggling mommy-hood. And the Crown of Glory Beauty Salon and Boutique is busier than a one-toothed man in a corn-on-the-cob-eating contest. Things are great until a handsome law intern disappears after an argument with their top stylist’s once-upon-a-time wayward son. So Lovita and Sue Jan put down their forks and pick up the trail to solve the mystery before Jolene’s son has to trade in his chef’s uniform for prison stripes.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

#Snippet Time!

Like a book lover with a whole day to spend at Powell's City of Books, I am faced with a few too many options right now. That is to say, I have too many books going at once! Last week I finally decided which I would focus on, so hopefully I can make better headway in the next two months than I did in the previous.

Much of what I have recently written won't be real books until almost Christmastime, or even later, the poor dears, so I thought it would be a good time to share a sample.

Have you ever seen Renovation Realities on HGTV? I love that show. They follow hapless (sometime not so hapless) homeowners as they fix up their homes. The families have realistic budgets, realistic skills and abilities, and realistic time constraints. None have those crews of twenty working day and night you see on other HGTV shows. It's hilarious, and comforting, if like me, you have a tendency to tear your house apart and put it back together when you are bored.

So when I thought it might be time for a Mitzy Neuhaus novella, I thought of renovation realities. Something short and funny, and maybe with no dead bodies, a little more like Foreclosed, if you will, but a tad shorter.

So, without further ado, here is what may well be the intro of the next Mitzy Neuhaus Mystery.




The Neuhaus Job

The renovation you are about to see is real…

The shoemaker’s children go shoeless, and the developer’s wife lives in an unfinished home. But that’s about to end for Mitzy Neuhaus and Alonzo Miramontes. Alonzo, a local developer has just completed a warehouse renovation and has taken the week off to finish the basement of his 1970’s custom home with his wife, Realtor Mitzy Neuhaus. They have seven days and a maximum cash budget of three-thousand dollars, but are their eyes bigger than their wallets? We’ll find out as the Neuhaus-Miramontes family takes the next week to make their old house…as good as new.

“My name is Alonzo Miramontes. My wife Mitzy and I are turning the wasted storage area in our daylight basement into a workout room. We’ll be ripping out the drop ceiling, plumbing a drinking fountain, adding mirrored walls, a ballet bar, a TV and surround sound. I’m a licensed contractor and my wife isn’t completely useless, so I think we can get this done in a week.” Alonzo nudged Mitzy with his elbow. “You’d agree, right?”
Mitzy smiled for the camera. “I’m far from useless, and we’ll get it done in three days or my name isn’t Mitzy Neuhaus!”
“It isn’t. It’s Mitzy Miramontes, remember?”
Mitzy laughed. She looked away from the camera and fanned herself. “Can I get a retake on that one?”
“No way. We’re keeping that one, right guys?”
The guy with the mic nodded silently, a grin plastered on his round face.
Mitzy drained her coffee mug and checked the time on the microwave clock.
It was five in the morning, but the television crew had already filmed their breakfast sequence.
Now they had to walk around the house explaining the job they were about to undertake.
Alonzo led the way downstairs. He sniffed and tipped his chin at the camera.
“Ready?” The camera man asked.
Mitzy appreciated that the crew wasn't chatty in the morning. She was chatty in the morning, and wouldn't have minded a bit of cheerful company herself, but she had to live with Alonzo, and getting him to film the intro sequence with a smile had been hard enough.
“Sure.” Alonzo shrugged.
The camera man waved to get their attention again. “Okay, you’re live.”
Mitzy smiled for the camera, “Alonzo is a professional. Finishing our basement should be a snap.”
“I usually have a bigger crew than this.” Alonzo grunted. “But we can probably get this done if you can keep your mind on the job.”
Mitzy laughed. “Drink your coffee.”
Alonzo sniffed. “I’m getting a cold, so I don’t want to mess around. Get in, get done, get out.”

Mitzy rolled her eyes. “He’s much nicer by noon, I swear.”

***
In the mean time, if you haven't read any Mitzy Neuahuas, Foreclosed, the first in the series, is always free, for Kindle, Nook, iTunes, Kobo...you get the picture! (The linked Title above takes you to my blog's book page where you can find links for the book at all available outlets.)

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Hilarious Real Life Excuses For Speeding.

I follow a blog called The Graveyard Shift (a must follow for anyone writing in mystery/suspense) and his post today was humorous. Enjoy! - Cynthia Hickey

http://www.leelofland.com/wordpress/13-wacky-statements-made-to-me-by-speeders/

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

New Cookbook Brings Old Memories

Buy on Amazon.com
Kindle eBook
In 2001 after I'd written a few chapters of  "Murder in Half Moon Bay," I attended a literary conference with a guest speaker by the name of Camille Minichino (AKA Margaret Grace) who was writing the Periodic Table mysteries at the time. Camille graciously signed one of her books for me, wishing good success with my writing. I was in awe! Today,  13 years later, we appear in a cookbook together called "Cozy Food." What could be more special?  
      
Another author, Sandra Balzo, has contributed a recipe to the new cookbook as well. Years ago when I asked a question on a forum, this lady also encouraged me with a few words. I'll be forever grateful. 

The third author I want to mention is our very own Traci Tyne Hilton. Traci, like the rest of our CMM authors is a sweetheart and a wonderful writer. I'm anxious to read what she added. 

In case you're wondering, I wrote recipes for Raisin Scones and Mock Devonshire Cream epitomizing "Queen of Afternoon Tea."  Check out the back cover for a complete list of cozy mystery authors and see if your favorites are included. You may want to purchase a copy to discover more cozy authors. Links are included with each recipe.
                                                       
I hope you enjoy the collaboration by author Nancy Lynn Jarvis, another friend of mine. Until next time, I'll see you in my books.

 Cheers!

~Nancy Jill 

Nancy Jill Thames was born to write mysteries. From her early days as the neighborhood story-teller to being listed on Amazon Author Watch Bestseller List, she has always had a vivid imagination and loves to solve problems – perfect for plotting whodunnits. In 2010, Nancy Jill published her first mystery, Murder in Half Moon Bay, introducing her well-loved protagonist, Jillian Bradley, and whimsical Yorkie, “Teddy.” She’s written seven books so far in The Jillian Bradley Mystery Series and is working on her eighth.

When she isn’t plotting Jillian’s next perilous adventure, she travels between Texas and California finding new ways to spoil her grandchildren, playing classical favorites on her baby grand or having afternoon tea with friends.

Member of Leander Writers’ Guild, American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW CenTex Chapter), and Central Texas Authors

To learn more about Nancy Jill visit these sites.
Twitter @mystriterdva






Wednesday, May 14, 2014

The Woolly Weegie The Way My Daddy Told It...Mostly





Now that The Woolly Weegie is with the Beta Readers I decided to share with you the original tale the way my Dad told it. Mostly. Okay it's been Cindyfied a bit, okay a lot, but Dad tended to vary it himself so I'm sure he would approve.

Yes the story will be included in the book, but I thought I would share a sneak peak. Prepare to be horrified! Or just entertained, whatever. So here it is, The original Woolly Weegie as told by B.W. Ragsdale. Enjoy...

One full moon night in the deep, dark woods…
“Will you stop,” the boy just shy of his 13th birthday grouched at his sister, “Why are you such a scardey tonight?”
 His sister, who had just turned 10 bit her lip, looking around the small cabin as if she saw danger everywhere.
“I can’t help it, there are noises.”
“It’s the woods, there are always noises. Raccoons, foxes, rats, even a bear on occasion. You should be used to it.”
“It’s different when Mama and Papa are here. I wish they hadn’t gone.”
The boy snorted impatiently. Truth be told he hadn’t exactly been happy himself to be left in the middle of nowhere with only his young sister for company. Also, there was a lot noise outside in the dark, and with only one loan light source it was unnerving.
But he wasn’t going to admit he was nervous. Not to his baby sister.
So he snapped, “Daddy had to take Mama to Laura Crabtree’s place because she was ailing. He thought he would be back before dark, but didn’t want to chance it with us along. He thought it would safer if we stayed here secured in the cabin. That wheel that broke last week must have given him…what was that?’
“Don’t scare me.”
“Shh,” the boy admonished.
Immediately his sister lowered her voice and asked, “What’s wrong? I don’t hear anything.”
“That’s what I mean. It’s quiet and it shouldn’t be. It’s like everything ran away, but why?”
The boy looked at the heavy wooden door and started towards it. His sister grabbed for him and held tightly to his arm shaking her head vehemently as she knew what he planned. Her brother released himself from her grip, and as she opened her mouth to protest he put his finger to his lips to shush her.
His sister obeyed, but she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
The boy walked towards the door and looked at it as if seeking reassurance. It was made of heavy wood with iron hinges keeping it in place. It should offer maximum protection, so why was he afraid it would not be good enough?
He put his ear to the portal but still heard nothing. Finally he squatted down and looked through the keyhole. For a moment he saw only darkness. Just as he was about to pull away, IT suddenly appeared!
The one-red eye of The Woolly Weegie!
The boy sprang back but knew he was too late. He had been seen and nothing would keep the monster out now. He and his sister were doomed!
The two children clung together as the thing began pounding on the door with ever increasing force. They watched helplessly as the heavy nails holding the door hinges in place began to come away from the wall.
They should have run and hid, but in the one room log cabin there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The door was the only way in or out.
Inevitably, the door fell forward, and the rushing air caused the loan candle flame to blow out. From the brightness of the full moon the children could see the huge hulking form which filled the doorway blocking their only hope of escape.
In a vain attempt to protect his sister the boy thrust her behind him, but it would all be for naught. The Woolly Weegie’s one red eye glowed in the darkness, and it looked directly at the children. There would be no mercy and no escape.
The monster lumbered forward and reach out towards the children with huge clawed hands.
The little girl screamed…

 (Cliffhanger Intentional)

Don't worry, I'll tell the way my Dad ended it. Eventually. If you are interested that is...