The Name Game by Donna Andrews

Donna Andrews was born in Yorktown, Virginia and now lives in Reston, Virginia.  The Real Macaw, (July 2011, Minotaur), is the thirteenth book in her Agatha and Anthony winning Meg Langslow series. She has also written four books in the Turing Hopper series from Berkley Prime Crime. For more information:  http://donnaandrews.com.

Donna is participating in "The 365 Project," which is a photography project where you document a year of your life by taking a daily photo.  Here's one of her recent pieces:

You can see more of her work for this year here:  http://365project.org/donnaandrews/365

 

The Name Game

by Donna Andrews

I once heard an anecdote about Bruce Springsteen. Possibly apocryphal, but who cares? The audience is waiting for him to come on stage, and a couple of rock journalists are listening to the crowd chanting "Broooooooce! Brooooooce!"  One of the journalists turns to the other and asks, "What would they do if Bruce's parents had named him Irving?"

Names matter.  Especially character names.  Sometimes I find that a character doesn't really take shape in my mind until he or she has the right name. In the book I'm working on now--provisionally titled SOME LIKE IT HAWK--there is a falconer.  Right now, he's going by the name of Mr. Falconer.  I've had him try on a couple of real names for size, but so far none have really fit.  Maybe I'll ask Andy Straka, who has provided some of the hawk information I needed, if he wants to suggest a name.  That might be easier than trying to think of a good name myself.

My last several books have usually contained a couple of characters named by people who won the naming rights in a mystery convention auction.  I know some writers resist donating character names because they fear they'll get stuck with a name that they feel doesn't fit into their fictional world.  In fact, I thought that way myself for a while. 

But I liked the fact that the money raised went to a good cause--usually a literacy organization.  Like most writers, I'm big on literacy--I figure it's job security for all of us.  And I came to realize that figuring out how to use the names I was given was an interesting technical challenge.

Take the Blankes, who appear in COCKATIELS AT SEVEN.  Their daughter, Annette, who won a character name in an auction, would have been satisfied with my including only her father, Dr. Henry Blanke, but asked if there was any possibility that I could also include her mother, Phyllis.  I didn't tell her at first that I wasn't at all sure I could possibly include her father--because the book already contained the character of Dr. Montgomery Blake, Meg's grandfather.  I couldn't change his name--he had already appeared in the previous book.  And having two people named Dr. Blake and Dr. Blanke would be too confusing for the reader.

But that kind of confusion happens all the time in life. So I decided to embrace the similarity, and have some visiting FBI agents interrogate Dr. Blanke, under the mistaken impression that he was Dr. Blake.  It actually helped me figure out how Meg could uncover a bit of the information she needed to solve the crime. And several times since the book came out, I've heard from old friends of the Blankes who are surprised and pleased to find that they have made their way into a mystery book.

At one Bouchercon auction, Chris Grabenstein was auctioning off a character in SWAN FOR THE MONEY.  "Tell them what they can be if they buy this character," he ordered.  I mentally surveyed the characters who weren't recurring ones who already had names.  "Well," I said.  "The winner could be a rose grower . . . or a rose grower . . . or rose grower . . . or a grower of roses . . . or a belted Tennessee Fainting Goat."  One bidder was charmed by the notion of being a goat.  She bid aggressively and won the bid, and would hear nothing of being anything but a goat. I was a little worried, because most people don't give their goats first and last names and I didn't want my use of her name to sound stilted.  She assured me I could just use her first name--she'd know it was her.  But I believe in giving good value to someone who has donated a nice chunk of money to literacy in return for naming rights, so I found a way to use her full name.  After all, when do we as parents or pet owners use our darlings' full, formal names?  When they misbehave.  I found an opportunity where her namesake could do something that would cause her owner to exclaim, "Marguerite Johnson!  You naughty goat!"

Marguerite reported that she was delighted, although her husband found the whole thing passing strange, and now refuses to let her go alone to auctions, lest she be inspired to buy another character name.

Of course, I wouldn't have given Marguerite's name to a goat if she hadn’t liked the idea.  I try never to kill off my namesake characters, or make them the bad guys . . . unless the person who bought the naming rights WANTS it that way.  So when you see regular Malice attendee Sandy Sechrest shuffling off this mortal coil in SWAN FOR THE MONEY--I hasten to mention that she liked the idea.  And unlike so many of the victims in my books, her namesake wasn't a creep--I almost felt sorry at not being able to revive her at the last moment.

SinC newsletter maven Molly Weston appears in the same book not because she bought a character at auction but because she had a disappointing experience when another writer whose auction she won hung her name on a character who was not only unpleasant but morally objectionable and, well, downright icky. And by the time Molly found out about it, the book was in print. "Would it make you feel any better if I name a character after you?" I asked. "I'll make it someone you'll like."  I think Molly liked the rosegrower to whom I gave her name. Before deciding to name her after Molly, I was referring to her as Sensible Rosegrower, which gives you an idea what some of the other rosegrowers were like.

One of my favorite people, both in Meg's world and in my own is Caroline Willner.  I met her when one of my friends, her daughter Dina, brought her to the first Mayhem in the Midlands in 2001, and Caroline and I became friends.  I always looked forward to celebrating her birthday each year at Mayhem.

Caroline was rather put out that one of her friends at home didn't believe she knew me. Dina and I were trying to arrange a suitable form of proof, and I suggested, "Hey, what if I put her in one of my books."  So the fictional Caroline Willner, proprietor of a wildlife refuge, made her first appearance in WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE PARROTS--she brought the tiger.

A few years later, while I was working on SIX GEESE A-SLAYING, I heard the sad news from Dina that Caroline had been diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer.  I asked Dina if she thought her mother would mind if I brought her character back.  "Mind?  She'd love it."  I was imagining a walk-on part--in the book, Meg is organizing a holiday parade, and Caroline was going to show up just long enough to deliver the elephant for the Diwali float.  Heck, I was even going to give her a few lines of dialogue. But as soon as she showed up, I realized that the fictional Caroline Willner had much of the charm and feistiness of her real life model, and instead of a bit part she became a featured player.   In fact, a recurring character.  She won't be in every book, but she does tend to show up from time to time.  In THE REAL MACAW, which comes out this month (July 2011), Meg's father and grandfather burgle the local animal shelter to protest the county's decision to change the shelter.

Of course Caroline shows up to help out with the animals--and with the ensuing murder investigation.  And in SOME LIKE IT HAWK--

But that would be a spoiler.  Let's just say that Dina and I like to think the real Caroline Willner is looking on from somewhere and applauding her namesake.

--
website: http://donnaandrews.com/
blog: http://femmesfatales.typepad.com/
http://donnaandrews.com/mailinglist.shtml

Publishing Now Versus Thirty Years Ago by Thomas H. Cook

Thomas H. Cook is the author of 25 novels and three works of non-fiction.  He has been nominated for the Edgar Allan Poe Award numerous times in numerous categories.  His novel, THE CHATHAM SCHOOL AFFAIR won the Edgar for Best Novel in 1996.  He is also the recipient of the Barry Award for Best Novel for RED LEAVES.  He has twice won the Martin Beck Award of the Swedish Academy of Detection, the only author ever to have done so.  His works have also been nominated for the Anthony, the Macavity, the Hammett Prize, the Silver Dagger of the British Association of Crime Writers, and the Grand Prix Litterature Policiere in France.
 

Publishing Now Versus Thirty Years Ago

by Thomas H. Cook

I have lately been pondering the difference between publishing now and thirty years ago, when I published my first novel. I was published in hard back for the first time by Houghton Mifflin.  The book was called THE ORCHIDS, and it was a small, literary novel.  Even so, the head of the company, Austin Olney, a true Bostonian, took me to lunch.  "We don't publish books," he said.  "We publish authors."
 
By this statement I was to understand that as long as I wrote well, I would be published by Houghton Mifflin, that as a company, Houghton Mifflin believed in and stood by the few authors it selected.
 
I have no doubt that Mr. Olney meant this, and that other publishers at that time were giving similar assurances to their first novelists.  No such assurance could be given today. Now, a new author is given one chance, perhaps two, and if the books fail to meet commercial expectation, the promising novelist will find himself or herself without a publisher.   What this means is that the careers of writers who might have gone on to greatness are being snuffed out.   Down the road, the inevitable result of this will be the loss of a mature literature.  For who but more seasoned writers can address literature's most universal  themes?  What young writer, for example, can have an inkling about regret, surely one of life's most searing experiences   In lieu of a literature whose richness only accumulated experience can provide, are we to have nothing more than a series of flashes in the pan, writers who, for one reason or another,  burst upon the scene, find favor for an instant, then vanish, never to be seen again?   Conrad was in his forties when he published his first book.  Most young writers in America today will be very, very lucky if they're still publishing at all by the time they are in their forties. 

My 25th novel, THE QUEST FOR ANNA KLEIN, has just been published.  It is not a book I could have written in my twenties for the simple reason that I could not have brought to it the same measure of knowledge and experience.  My fear is that those writers now in their twenties - coming as they are into a much changed publishing industry - will not be as lucky as I have been.

The 2011 Thriller Awards Announced

From The International Thriller Writers website:

During a gala banquet and celebration held on Saturday, July 9 at the Grand Hyatt in New York City, the International Thriller Writers announced the winners of the 2011 Thriller Awards. 

They are:

Best Hard Cover Novel:
BAD BLOOD, John Sandford

Best Paperback Original Novel:
THE COLD ROOM, J.T. Ellison

Best First Novel:
STILL MISSING, Chevy Stevens

Best Short Story:
THE GODS FOR VENGEANCE CRY, Richard Helms

Also receiving special recognition during the ThrillerFest VI Awards Banquet:

R.L. Stine, ThrillerMaster
in recognition of his legendary career and outstanding contributions to the thriller genre

Joe McGinniss, True Thriller Award

Karin Slaughter, Silver Bullet Award 

 Congratulations to all the winners and nominees of the 2011 Thriller Awards.

The Dreaded Author Bio by Alafair Burke

The Dreaded Author Bio

by Alafair Burke



Thanks for having me here today.  I was wondering what to blog about when I got to the accompanying request for a short author bio.  It’s the kind of request I receive and respond to a few times a month, more now that I’m in the frenzy of publication time.

Here’s my usual bio, from the cover of my new book, LONG GONE:

“Alafair Burke is the bestselling author of six previous novels, including 212, Angel’s Tip, and Dead Connection in the  Ellie Hatcher series.  A former prosecutor, she now teaches criminal law and lives in Manhattan.  Long Gone is her first stand-alone thriller.”

Go ahead, say it: Yawn, Snore, Zzzz....

I was once asked by the Mystery Writers of America for something a little more snazzy.  Borrowing in part from my website, I allowed myself thirty minutes to hammer out something that would give those who hadn't met me yet some sense of who I am and where I've been.

As I wrote, I couldn't stop thinking about the sterility of those book jacket author bios, scrubbed clean of all personality.  As writers, we're committed to exploring the human stories that lurk beneath the superficial, but when asked to describe ourselves: Yawn, snore, zzzz.....

I've spoken a few times during author appearances about a hypothetical world in which books (like the law school exams I grade as a professor) would be published anonymously, their authors known only by a randomly assigned number that readers could use to "identify" the authors they consistently enjoyed.  After all, what separates reading from television and film is the active role of our mind's eye.  To read books without knowing an author's age, gender, race, religion, region, education, attractiveness, or work experience might truly unleash our imaginations.

Despite my musings about a utopia of anonymous publishing, I've come to realize why publishers emphasize (and readers desire) personal information about authors.  The most delightful unexpected benefit of writing has been meeting some of my favorite authors.  I already read these folks religiously before I met them, but I'll admit that I read them differently -- and more richly -- now.  I recognize the wry winks in Laura Lippman's most leisurely paragraphs.  I hear Michael Connelly's quiet voice in Bosch.   I think I really know what Lisa Unger means when she writes on Ridley Jones's behalf that she's a "dork."  And those short, little, maddeningly frustrating sentences from Lee Child are now sexy as hell.

But I didn't get any of that from the book jackets.
As the traditional print media and personal appearance opportunities for authors to introduce themselves to readers continue to dry up, many of us have taken to the Web.  We do that not only to get our names out there, but also because we recognize that readers are more likely to experience our written work as intended if they come to it with a sense of who we are. (For example, an online reviewer once dissed a line of Ellie Hatcher's, something like "kicking it old school."  The fact that it's corny to talk that way is of course precisely why she'd say such a thing. And if the reader "got" Ellie or anything about my work, he'd know that's -- ahem -- just how we roll.)

So as we writers are knocking ourselves out to convey our souls to readers, maybe we should take another look at book jacket bios.  The publishers are going to type something beneath that favorite photo: It may as well be interesting.  And so I’m sharing  this unsanitized bio that I first wrote only for internal MWA purposes:

Alafair Burke is the author of six novels in two series, one featuring NYPD Detective Ellie Hatcher, the other with Portland prosecutor Samantha Kincaid.  Although reviewers have described both characters as “feisty,” Alafair might accidentally spill a drink on anyone who invokes that word to describe her or anyone she cares about.

Alafair grew up in Wichita, Kansas, whose greatest contribution to her childhood was a serial killer called BTK.  Nothing warps a young mind quite like daily reports involving the word, bind, torture, and kill.

From Kansas, Alafair dreamed of fleeing west.  Fearing their daughter might fall prey to a 1980’s version of the Manson Family (um, Nelson?), her parents prohibited her from attending school in California.  Ironically, she ended up at Reed College, where the bookstore sold shirts that read "Atheism, Communism, Free Love," and Alafair found herself (lovingly) nicknamed Nancy Reagan and The Cheerleader.

From Reed, Alafair went to the decidedly less hippy-ish Stanford Law School. Although she went with dreams of becoming an entertainment lawyer so she could make deals at the Palm and score seats at the Oscars, she eventually realized she had watched "The Player" one too many times, and instead decided to pursue criminal law because she was obsessed with the Unabomber.

Most of Alafair’s legal practice was as a prosecutor in Portland, Oregon, where she infamously managed to tally up a net loss on prison time imposed during her prosecutorial career.  (Help spring two exonerated people from prison to put a guy called the Happy Face Killer behind bars, and it really ruins your numbers.)  As hard as it is for her to believe, she is now a professor at Hofstra Law School.

When Alafair is not teaching classes or writing, she enjoys rotting her brain.  She runs to an iPod playlist with three continuous hours of spaz music (think "It Takes Two" by DJ Rob Bass, "Smooth Criminal" by Alien Art Farm, and "Planet Claire" by the B-52's). She insists that Duran Duran, the Psychedelic Furs, and the Cure hold up just as well as the so-called classics. She watches way too much television, usually on cable.  She wants Tina Fey to be her BFF.  She likes to drink wine and cook.

She discloses TMI on the Interwebs, blogging regularly at Murderati and logging teenage-territory hours on Facebook.  She will golf at the drop of a hat even though she’s bad at it.

Most importantly, Alafair loves her husband, Sean, and their French bulldog, The Duffer.  She also loves her parents, but if you ask her about them, she’ll ask you about yours.

Should all authors let loose on their jacket flaps?  Would it affect that crucial decision of whether to purchase?  Would it change how we read?  If you're a writer, what should your author bio REALLY say?  And if you're a reader, what would you like to know about some of your favorite writers?

 

The Book Reads You by Megan Abbott

Megan Abbott is the Edgar award-winning author of the crime novels Queenpin, The Song Is You, Die a Little and Bury Me Deep. Her writing has appeared in Wall Street Noir, Detroit Noir, Best Crime and Mystery Stories of the Year, Phoenix Noir, Storyglossia, the Los Angeles Times Magazine, The Believer, Queens Noir and L.A. Noire: The Collected Stories.

This week marks the publication of her new novel, The End of Everything, the story of a 13-year-old girl in the 1980s suburbs whose best friend disappears. 

The Book Reads You

by Megan Abbott

I always associate summer with the freest reading of all. I was an avid reader as a kid, and never limited myself to “official school books,” but there was always something liberating about the kind of reading you could do in the summer, books you could take to the community pool, curl up in your beach bag, leave on the picnic table, tuck in the thick burlap bag I used to fling over my bike for my summer newspaper delivery route. I remember epic, punishing car trips to Ocean City, New Jersey, my brother and I in the backseat, swapping from a stack of Archie comic books when were very little, graduating eventually to fat biographies—especially mass market tales of moviestars and the Kennedy dynasty.

Sometimes, summers meant returning to well-worn favorites, Lois Duncan’s Stranger with My Face, S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders and Judy Blume’s Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself, which was set in the 1940s, my most favored era, even then. I still remember its strange cover, a collage of braided, gaptooted Sally, Esther Williams in a sarong and ….Adolph Hitler. Often, though, summer meant digging through the humid depths of used bookstores with my parents, hands clamping over the blaring, blood-lettered covers of true crime books by Ann Rule and Shana Alexander.

Later, in high school and college, I would usually tear open the first book of the summer at the peak of finals, needing its escape, so it would usually be an enormous, engaging, intensely readable tome, like John Irving’s Hotel New Hampshire or any of a number of Joyce Carol Oates books. I remember one late June beginning Executioner’s Song on a Friday evening and barely looking up until Sunday. These books seem somehow to know us. To know what captivates, moves and enthralls us. It’s like hypnosis. You succumb and only wake up when the book decides to release you.

Somewhere along the way, though, I lost this sense of summer books. In large part through spending so long in graduate school, reading books for my own studies, or later reading the books I was teaching for a course, or later still reading mostly as research for one of my own books. Mostly, my reading is consistent year-round and feels very orderly. I’ve lost that sense of abandon. That immersive summer reading experience seems to have drifted away.

But this summer I vow it will be different. I’m going to devote myself to true summer reading. To that deeply pleasurable experience of surrendering myself to a very long book chosen utterly for pleasure and barely taking a breath until I’m finished. Stopping my life and letting it sink into me. Maybe a phonebook-thick book I’ve read before and have no excuse at all to read again other than that it’s a place I want to revisit, a past self with whom I’d like to acquaint myself again. Or maybe something I can’t even guess, found at the bottom of the stack at the “to be shelved” pile at the Strand, tucked in a corner shelf at Oxford's Square Books, it sits there, waiting for me.

Random Thoughts on the Writing Life by Shirley Wetzel

 

Shirley Wetzel is a librarian at Rice University, an archaeologist, a fifth-generation Texan, a reader, a fan, a reviewer, and a writer. She started her first novel back in the Paleolithic, and one day she will finish it. In the meantime, she's counting the months until retirement, when she can do even more reading, writing, and reviewing.

Random Thoughts on the Writing Life

by Shirley Wetzel

It is almost time for my yearly entry in dear Kaye's magnificent blog, and my head feels completely empty. Life has been interfering with writing, and even thoughts of writing, but I can't let my buddy down. What to do?

At first I decided to turn to my trusty file of inspirational quotes. Here are a couple of my favorites, and they are meant to encourage me to say "to heck with writer's block, just sit in the damn chair, put fingers to keyboard, and let the words write themselves down." They usually do. But there is one stumbling block, one thing I cannot seem to finish -- can't even get started on finishing. My first book just refuses to cooperate. I know I must, or my life won't feel complete.  Listen to these folks, they know what I mean:

"Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you did not do than the things you did. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

- Mark Twain, writer/humorist

"There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, "Yes, I've got dreams, of course, I've got dreams." Then they put the box away and bring it out once in a while to look in it, and yep, they're still there. These are great dreams, but they never even get out of the box. It takes an uncommon amount of guts to put your dreams on the line, to hold them up, and say, "How good or how bad am I?" That's where courage comes in."

- Erma Bombeck, humorist

Then I decided to ignore that stack of pages and files containing various forms of the Book and go read DorothyL.  There I found a much happier subject to write about: the fun parts of the writing life. The inspiration came from Jeffrey Cohen's blog for June 26-27. To quote this comedy genius (hi Jeff!):

"Here's the theory: Authors aren't like other people. In order to test said theory, we need to see ourselves from another perspective."

To test his theory, he interviewed his wife, who must be a saint with a great sense of humor. I realized he is correct.  Writers, even those who haven't finished their first novel, are different than other people.

And in the fifteen years or so since I got the courage to put a few of my dreams on the line, and become part of the writing world, I've come to appreciate and love that difference.  Whether I ever finish that first novel or not, my life has been enriched by taking that leap. Some things I've written did get published, and that was a thrill, but the best part of leaping into the strange and wondrous world of writer has been the writers I've come to know and the experiences we've shared.

As well as I can remember, Jeff Cohen was the first "real" author I reached out to, and I've never regretted it. I'd started doing reviews for overmydeadbody.com, and one of the first books I received was "For Whom the Minivan Rolls." The protagonist (I got to learn lots of cool new words, too) has a son with Asperger's Syndrome. My beautiful granddaughter had just been diagnosed with autism, and I was searching for answers, and comfort. I got both from Jeff. He literally wrote the book on how to parent a child with autism, and through the years he's been there whenever I needed him to be. It was a thrill for both of us (it was, wasn't it, Jeff?) when we finally met in person at Houston's fabulous Murder by the Book. It was his first, and probably last, visit to Texas, but as we say down here, I was mighty proud to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cohen.

I didn't mean to go on so long about Mr. Cohen, but you never forget your first.

Author, that is. Eons ago, when I was looking for something else in the Rice University library stacks, I came across a mystery called "The Texas Capitol Murders," by a guy named Bill Crider. I liked it pretty well. At some point I met Bill, who writes the kind of books I aspire to write: small town Texas, where, aside from the occasional murder, the biggest crimes involve wild hogs and cranky alligators. Bill and his lovely wife Judy have become dear friends.  He always reads my wip and always has only good things to say, even when I tell him to be brutally honest. Bill couldn't be brutal, though, even if he was surrounded by a mob of wild hogs and feisty gators and love-struck romance writers.

Another topic on DorothyL that got my attention was how authors interact with their fans. I've met a good many mystery writers over the years, and each and every one has been gracious and kind. My one true love, Lee Child, is a case in point. At his signing for "Hard Luck and Trouble," he held a drawing for five sheriff's badges. I didn't win one, but the guy next to me did. I offered to buy it from him for five bucks, and he taunted me, saying it would be up on e-Bay that night and I could bid on it. He was in front of me in the signing line, and I told on him. When it was my turn, Lee stealthily reached (yes, reached, like Reacher) into a bag beside me and slipped a badge into my hand. Now THAT'S class!

There have been some happy surprises. Mary Reed wrote to overmydeadbody.com asking if she could quote my review of one of the John the Eunuch books, and I was so proud that somebody was reading my reviews and even liked what I had to say. Another time, I opened an ARC of one of Gillian Robert's Amanda Pepper mysteries, glanced at the acknowledgments, and saw MY NAME. Looked again, and it was still there. In a previous review, I'd said something about a wedding that gave her an idea for a plot. I miss Amanda, Judy, and I know a lot of others do too. The day Jeff Cohen came to the MBDB signing, one of the staff commented on a blurb on the back cover. It was by ME!

I'm going on too long, but so many memories are surfacing. I've come to know so many other writers whose work I enjoyed. "Cousin" Lillian Stewart Carl (my mother was a Stewart, so we've adopted each other as cousins whether we are or not), also writes the kind of books I aspire to write. The hilarious Cornelia Read, who, like me, is a fan of Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger, also shares my sense of humor and evil.  She posted a photo on FaceBook of three young cigar- smoking friends she'd met on an Alaskan cruise, and described how beautiful the scenery was. I commented that it was the perfect setting for a murder, and she wrote right back that they'd just been discussing that very thing. That's another thing about writers: we're always on the lookout for a good place to kill somebody. When writers get together, at lunch or while hiking around Machu Picchu, their topic of conversation garners some strange looks from people nearby. I love it!

Susan McBride, you are fabulous, gal, and I still have a galley of one of your first Debutante books. I expect it'll be worth big bucks pretty soon. Earl Darlin' Staggs, you give the best hugs ever!

James Benn, or as I call him now, Jim, your first Billy Boyle mystery came out when I was immersed in all things WWII, and it is my favorite series ever.

Stuart Neville, James Benn, Peter Lovesey at Murder by the Book

Chris Grabenstein, I often ask myself WWCD? Well, maybe not often, but I plan to buy the t-shirt.

Rhys Bowen, I shared with you the story of how my mother's first husband died in that war when his B-26 crashed into a mountain in Wales, and you said there's a book in that story, and I will write it. Jacqueline Winspear, when I told you how kind the English were to my half-sister, whose father is buried in the Cambridge American Cemetery, you shared a story about the GIs who gave your mother chocolates and silk stockings when they learned it was her birthday. Tim Hallinan, sawadee khah, my friend, I have enjoyed talking to you about Thailand, where I spent two memorable years during the Vietnam War. Your Poke Rafferty series is also my favorite- a tie with Jim. And with Lillian's Jean and Alistair series, and Rhy's Evan Evans and Lady Georgie ... not to forget Jeff's Haunted Guesthouse series. Dang it, I love all of them the best! And Dean James, I am so proud of how well your new series is doing, it's about time your talent got proper recognition! I could go on, and on, but I'm supposed to be working.

Being a member of this very special bunch means there are some sad times too.  Barbara Burnett Smith, another talented Texas writer whose books I loved, died trying to save a dog who'd wandered into traffic. Lynn Hamilton and I became friends via e-mail. She wrote a book based on an unpublished manuscript from a Thai kingdom, a manuscript I typed for the professor who translated it when I was in graduate school. Way cool! She came to Houston and I gave her my copy of "Motel of the Mysteries" -- a classic for archaeologists and mystery fans. A few years later she wrote and said she loved it, but wanted me to have it, and she sent it back. A few weeks later I learned of her death. I still get chills remembering that. Even though she was so ill, she took the time to think of others.

On that note, I'll wrap this up. There are many other names of writers, readers, reviewers, and other assorted members of the writing world who are special to me. You know who you are. And in case you think I forgot, dear Kaye Barley, you are at the top of my list. Thank you for hosting your blog and letting us muse and meander to our hearts' content. You are one classy lady!

Smith Island Cake

Maryland's Eastern Shore has long been known for its extraordinary tasty crabs - steamed crabs, soft shell crabs, crab cakes - yum!  Heaven!

But - There's a newer tradition.  One I'm every bit as wild about.  

Smith Island Cake.  

This sinfully delicious dessert was declared "The Official State Dessert of Maryland" by the Maryland State Legislation in October, 2008. 

From the Original Smith Island Cake Co. webpage:

"Smith Island Cake History

Smith Island, Maryland’s only inhabited island in the Chesapeake Bay, is located 12 miles west of Crisfield, Maryland. The 8 x 4 mile island has a total population of just 400 people. Smith Island is made up of 3 unique communities- Tylerton, Ewell and Rhodes Point- all located on small areas of high ground which exist among the large estuarine marshes characteristic of the Chesapeake Bay.

Originally settled in the 1600’s, Smith Island has been home to watermen and their families for centuries, whose primary livelihood comes from the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. These watermen harvest blue crabs, oysters and fish, shipping them to markets throughout the world. Accessible only by boat, passenger only ferries connect Smith Island to Point Lookout, Maryland to the west and Crisfield Maryland to the East. Make a trip to Smith Island to experience a step back to simpler times.

Many people enjoy the beauty of the Chesapeake Bay, however the majority do not realize that the bay’s beauty is deceiving…below the surface there has been great damage to the precious watershed as a result of abuse and poor use of our natural resources. The Original Smith Island Cake Company is dedicated to the restoration of the bay’s ecosystem. As such, a percentage of our proceeds are earmarked toward environmental restoration initiatives, such as the Coastal Bay Foundation, that are helping to ensure that the splendor of our bay will be preserved for our children and future generations. Visit the Coastal Bay Foundation website at www.mdcoastalbays.org.

“THE SMITH ISLAND CAKE”
This decadent cake from Smith Island has been known as “Frosting with the Cake”, containing between 6 -12 pencil-thin yellow cake layers with rich chocolate fudge icing in between!! Imagine nine of the most delicate layers of spongy yellow cake separated by the thinnest layers of an old fashioned cooked chocolate icing that sets like fudge.

No one is quite sure who developed the concept of the “Smith Island Cake”. Some people believe it can be traced to an English torte, brought by Welsh settlers who came to the Smith Island in the late 1600’s. Many residents of Smith Island say, “It has always been here”. The recipe for the Smith Island Cake was first published in 1981 in a cookbook called Mrs. Kitching’s Smith Island Cookbook. Women of Smith Island started to stack layers as a form of competition, and it eventually grew to as many as a dozen layers. 

Effective October 1, 2008, the Smith Island Cake and its unique island received the recognition that it deserved. The Maryland State Legislation established the Smith Island Cake as the Official State Dessert of Maryland."

While the original recipe (shown below) was for chocolate layer cake, the Smith Island Cake has evolved into cakes of all flavors.  If you can imagine it, someone out there is baking it.

If you've suddenly developed an urge to try one of these oh so delicious cakes, here are a few websites that might be able to help you out by delivering one to your front door.

www.smithislandlayercakes.com

www.smithislandcakes.net

www.classicsmithislandcakes.com

www.cakesbydavid.com

www.mysmithislandcake.com

www.smithislandbakingco.com

http://www.originalsmithislandcakeco.com

Or - here's Mrs. Kitchings's recipe if you'd like to bake your own (from the Somerset County, Maryland website:):

Smith Island Ten-Layer Cake-Mrs. Kitching's Original Recipe

2 cups sugar

2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into chunks (1 cup)

5 eggs

3 cups flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 heaping teaspoon baking powder

1 cup evaporated milk

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/2 cup water

Cream together sugar and butter. Add eggs one at a time and beat until smooth. Sift together flour, salt, and baking powder. Mix into egg mixture one cup at a time. With mixer running, slowly pour in the evaporated milk, then the vanilla and water. Mix just until uniform.

Put three serving spoonfuls of batter in each of ten 9-inch lightly greased pans, using the back of the spoon to spread evenly. Bake three layers at a time on the middle rack of the oven at 350° for 8 minutes. A layer is done when you hold it near your ear and you don't hear it sizzle.

Start making the icing when the first layers go in the oven. Put the cake together as the layers are finished. Let layers cool a couple of minutes in the pans. Run a spatula around the edge of the pan and ease the layer out of the pan. Don't worry if it tears; no one will notice when the cake is finished. Use two and three serving spoonfuls of icing between each layer.

Cover the top and sides of the cake with the rest of the icing. Push icing that runs onto the plate back onto the cake.

Chocolate Icing for Ten-Layer Cake

2 cups sugar

1 cup evaporated milk

5 ounces unsweetened chocolate

1 stick unsalted butter

1/2 to 1 teaspoon vanilla

Put sugar and evaporated milk in a medium pan. Cook and stir over medium-low heat until warm. Add chocolate and cook to melt. Add butter and melt. Cook over medium heat at a slow boil for 10 to 15 minutes. Stir occasionally. Add vanilla. Icing will be thin but thickens as it cools.

Aside from this scrumptious bit of heaven, Smith Island itself, the only inhabited off-shore island in the Chesapeake Bay, and accessible only by boat, is quite fascinating.  You may enjoy reading a little about it.  I'd recommend the following websites:  Wikepedia, SmithIsland.org, BayDreaming.com, along with "An Island Out of Time - A Memoir of Smith Island in the Chesapeake" by Tom Horton, 1996 - Random House, New York - Non Fiction.

Dream Vacations

Vacations can be many different things.

Everyone has their own idea about their dream vacation.

My dream vacation is really pretty simple in the big scheme of things.  I want to be with Donald, of course - and we both want Harley with us.

And we want someplace nice we can get to without flying.

After having worked in the airline industry in the late '60s, and the 70s, I remember when flying was fun.  It is so not fun these days that I really don't care if I never fly again.

And we want lots of down time with nothing planned.  The planned events we do do are definitely going to be things we're doing because we want to do them and not because we're expected to do them.  We've become a bit selfish with our time, realizing it's one of the most treasured things we have. 

I have always thought Robert Orben had it right when he said "A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in."  Not too many of us are going to actually spend the day doing absolutely nothing - but knowing we have that option is lovely, I think.

Some people seem (in my humble opinion) to underestimate the value of vacations.  I agree that a stay-at-home vacation is great, but . . .  there are too many opportunities to forget you're supposed to be on vacation and get side-tracked into doing the things that you might really need to just get away from for a little while.  We're sooooo guilty of doing that.

Donald and I love vacations.  And they've become more important to us in just the past year.

We both love the water and usually plan beach trips.  Since we live in a gorgeous spot in the mountains - our mountain get away is taken care of most of the year, so those beach trips are at the top of our list.

Going "home" to Cambridge is my idea of the perfect vacation.  And Donald, being Donald, is the perfect good guy husband about this.  Fact of the matter is, since Cambridge is a lovely little town on the water, and since some of our best friends are there, he loves these trips home too.

This year marked my 45th high school reunion in Cambridge, which was not to be missed (including a pre-party party).  There was also a Wilkinson family get-together; also not to be missed.  And we had some other things we were celebrating - our 25th wedding anniversary, my retirement and - the biggie - the fact that Donald is still with us a year after his heart attack.

So special plans were called for, and I felt the need for some special pampering; and not just for me.  Donald and Harley too!  So, honestly, only one spot popped into mind - a place we've been wanting to go for awhile, but which is financially beyond what we usually are able to do.  The Chesapeake Bay Hyatt.  It could not have been lovelier.  AND - they welcomed Harley with open arms (when we got to our room there was a doggie bed, along with china doggie bowls).   And - the best part - with some careful planning, it didn't break the bank.  We were even able to get two nights for free, and free breakfast every morning.  (AAA can be your best friend when planning a vacation.  Along with those hotel memberships; they really do add up and can be a huge help).

All in all, I have never stayed anywhere this accommodating.  Granted, it is, a Hyatt, but, as a lot of us have learned, an expensive name doesn't always guarantee a pleasant experience.  This trip though, I can honestly say  -  every single day was, indeed, another pleasant experience.

So this was our home away from home for a week.

Surrounded by beautiful gardens, sculptures and fountains.

 

 

Surrounded by nature walks all along the hotel grounds on which we were able to enjoy some of the natural beauty of the Eastern Shore.

(can you spot the heron?)

The staff was profession and friendly, without fail.  Our room was perfect.  We were on the ground floor (perfect for walking Harley), in the doggie wing (yes - really, we were).  We had a corner room with glass sliding doors on two walls with a water view from both sides.  And if anyone ever says to you again that all hotel food is expensive, but inferior, don't believe everything you hear.  Being fans of good food, we have always come home from a trip talking about how well (or not) we ate.  This trip - we ate well.  Too well, actually (as I sit here munching on a container of fresh lump crab meat we brought home with us from my favorite seafood house - Kool Ice, in business since 1972).

We had a wonderful breakfast every morning.  

Doesn't this look like a nice breakfast for a growing girl??  And grow I did!

And most evenings we finished our days with a late evening dessert from The Regency Room. 

Just what this growing girl needed.  Back to the gym tomorrow!!

 We fell in love with The Regency Room and the staff.  It was always available for a snack, or a cup of coffee; all gratis.  Even juice, soda, or bottled water.  Just like having our own private kitchen (only much better stocked than our own private kitchen at home).  Even truffles!  Those white chocolate truffles with lemon cream centers were quite addictive.  

We caught a couple of pretty spectacular sunsets sitting on this balcony -

The fact that we had our buddies close by was the icing on the cake.   They came for visits and we were able to relax with a drink by the pool, or at any of the comfy spots inside the hotel with coffee and/or ice cream.

Final Tally?

THE nicest, most fun, most relaxing vacation ever.  (Do I say that every year?  I think I do.  And as it should be).

Your turn - let's hear about your dream vacation - either one you've taken, or one you're still dreaming about.