BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--MYSTERY AUTHOR CAROLYN J. ROSE ON WRITING WHAT SHE DOESN'T KNOW

Carolyn J. Rose grew up in New York's Catskill Mountains and emerged from the University of Arizona with a degree and a tan. Following two years with Volunteers in Service to America, a series of coincidences and chance encounters led her to TV news and 25 years as a researcher, writer, producer, and assignment editor in Arkansas, New Mexico, Oregon, and Washington. Her substitute teaching experiences and her sometimes rocky relationship with dogs led to the Subbing isn’t for Sissies series and the creation of the canine character called Cheese Puff. Other than writing, her interests are reading, swimming, walking, gardening, and NOT cooking. Learn more about Carolyn and her books at her website.

Taking a Literary Leap and Writing What I Don’t Know

For many years I took the advice “write what you know” to heart. I set mysteries in the Catskill Mountains where I grew up, and on the Oregon Coast where I often vacationed. During my 20 years as a high school substitute teacher, I wrote a 13-book humorous mystery series featuring a younger, smarter, thinner, and more catastrophe-prone version of myself.

 

But last year, as winter closed in and the lockdown continued, I considered writing about what I didn’t know. The choices were almost limitless. I don’t know how to pilot a jet or perform brain surgery. I don’t know about life in Haiti or Honduras or Hungary. I don’t know much about physics or pastry or pottery. I know next to nothing about alchemy or actuarial tables or advanced algebra.

 

Now, I like to think I’m a fairly bright person. But I’m in my seventies, and brain cells seem to be departing from the interior of my skull at an alarming rate. Could I learn enough about a fresh topic or skill to write in a credible manner? Or would I be called out by readers who know far more than I do?

 

For the record, as a reader I often feel a guilty thrill of pleasure when I spot a protagonist displaying ignorance about a subject I grasp. But, as a writer, I cringe when I receive an email from a reader who caught me with my smarty-pants down.

 

To avoid that shame and embarrassment, I decided to pick a topic that would allow me to fictionalize for 400 pages without doing more than a lick of research. The topic I hit on was ghosts. The book I wrote is The Three Shades of Justice: Never Give Up the Ghost. It centers around three elderly women killed in a car crash who return as ghosts to help their friend Emma Preston oust the shady assistant administrator of their senior residence.

 

But first they have to learn how to develop their powers so they can get more than a few feet from Emma. It’s a steep learning curve and they’re easily distracted by the disposition of their worldly goods, the selection of their urns, the dog and cat now in Emma’s care, their desire to don outfits other than the ones they died in, and Emma’s growing friendship with Spencer Rutledge.

 

Although glad her friends are still with her, Emma is not so delighted when they read her thoughts and invade her privacy. She’s even less pleased when they bicker, quibble, butt in on conversations, badger her to eat their favorite foods, and persuade her to take in an orphaned parrot.

 

Writing this book let me play a months-long game of What If? and speculate wildly about ghosts, their potential powers, and whether the personalities they had in life would carry over to their afterlives. I asked myself who they might haunt, who might be able to see them, and whether their time as ghosts might be limited. And then I made up the answers.

 

But, although knowledge and accuracy weren’t issues when it came to ghosts, there were other things I wanted to get right. So I pointed and clicked my way to sites with information about meringue, night-vision goggles, funeral urns, what parrots eat, and the full names of four former First Ladies.

 

In the process I learned a lot. Will I remember it next week? Doubtful. Like I said earlier, too many brain cells are, well, giving up the ghost.

The Three Shades of Justice: Never Give Up the Ghost

Emma Preston’s best friends are dead.

 

But not departed.

 

Killed in a car crash, they return to their senior residence to take care of unfinished business—getting the goods on the malicious assistant administrator. Sadye Connor has been stealing supplies and skimming accounts; now she’s upping her crime game.

 

Stubborn and opinionated in life, Eddie, Ida, and Loren are no different in their afterlives. Instead of honing their haunting skills, they bicker about strategy, blow off training, belittle teamwork, and badger Emma about the quality of their urns and the care and feeding of their entitled pets. Worse yet, they read her thoughts, butt in on conversations, and allow her no privacy to pursue a budding romance.

 

Can Emma wrangle the wraiths in the direction of detection in time? Do the Three Shades of Justice have a ghost of a chance of stopping Shady Sadye? Or will the ectoplasm hit the fan?

 

Buy Link 

MYSTERY AUTHOR CAROLYN J. ROSE SAYS A FOND FAREWELL TO A SERIES AND ITS CHARACTERS

Author Carolyn J. Rose credits her experiences as a substitute teacher and her sometimes rocky relationship with the dogs in her life to the creation of her Subbing Isn’t for Sissies Mystery Series and the canine character of Cheese Puff. Other than writing, her interests are reading, swimming, walking, gardening, and NOT cooking. Learn more about her and her books at her website.

I Love You, But Please Don’t Bug Me

 

Recently I published the thirteenth book in the Subbing isn’t for Sissies series. When I started the series, I didn’t intend to end it on thirteen. It just turned out that way. Twined stories seemed to come to more-or-less logical conclusions, and I found it more and more difficult—given early organizational failures compounded over time—to keep track of tiny character details. That’s important because many readers are far more alert than I am and are quick to spot unexplained changes in hair color or style preferences.

 

Thirteen has a reputation of being an unlucky number, so I spent some time wondering if I could dredge up a plot for a fourteenth book without scraping too far into the bottom of my mental barrel. I’m not overly superstitious—although I don’t walk under ladders and I’ve been known to toss a little spilled salt over my shoulder—but I also spent time wondering whether readers would decline to buy the thirteenth installment of the adventures of substitute teacher Barbara Reed, her entitled mutt Cheese Puff, and all her pals. I decided to go with the Doris Day approach and sang “what will be, will be” as I typed. I also reminded myself that not every book or series is for every reader.

 

And I spent a whole lot of time wondering about whether the characters will feel they can buzz off and let me sleep through the night without appearing in my dreams. Characters, especially those with whom a writer has a long relationship, often do that. They enter the dreamscape to offer suggestions for plotting and even act out scenes. But now that the final scene has been written, I’d prefer either dreamless sleep or—dare I hope?—appearances by a fresh crop of characters with exciting ideas for their adventures.

 

But I don’t say this out loud because the primary characters in the Subbing series have been good friends for a decade now, and I don’t want to hurt their feelings. And the other thing is—and you’ll know this if you’ve read any of the books in the series—some of them can be a little, well, pushy. Others occasionally go beyond pushy to aggressive or overbearing. And a few have been known to cross the line into obnoxious.

 

So each night, after checking to make sure my husband is asleep and won’t think I’ve gone completely around the bend, I have a little chat with them. I remind Barb about issues resolved in the final book and the happy future I wrote for her. I tell Mrs. Ballantine her wealth is fictional, and I can’t be bought and paid to write another book for her. I tell Dave I’m the one who pinned on his badge and therefore I can’t be arrested on trumped up charges of dereliction of duty as an author. I inform Dario that I’m not intimidated by the bear-like physique I gave him. I remind Big Chill and Tremaine Scott that they’re in charge of an imaginary high school and taking me off the sub list won’t force me to tap dance on street corners for change. I tell Iz and Allison the fictional kitchen is closed, and they should find another place to snack. I inform Bernina that I made up the condo complex she manages in such a slipshod manner and she’d better find another job.

 

Then I assure them they’ve all made remarkable contributions to the books in the series. I remind them they kept me entertained and amused for almost a decade—including recent months of quarantine. I swear I’ll never forget them. And then I turn out the light.

 

No Substitute for Matrimony

A Subbing isn’t for Sissies Mystery, Book 13

 

When substitute teacher Barbara Reed turned wedding planning over to her wealthy neighbor Muriel Ballantine, she knew the event wouldn’t be what she and Dave asked for—small, simple, and sane. What she didn’t know was that murder would block her path to the altar.

 

As Dave races the clock to find a killer and free a friend from suspicion, Barb struggles to free herself from makeup artists intent on changing her casual appearance. Meanwhile, her overbearing sister offers unwanted advice about men and matrimony, and an ardent admirer hopes she’ll ditch the groom before she reaches the end of the aisle.

 

With time running out, Mrs. B offers a mammoth reward. Will the cash bring a witness out of hiding and solve the case? Or will delivering the dough dump Barb in deep danger?

 

Buy Link 

MYSTERY AUTHOR CAROLYN J. ROSE ON SAYING GOODBYE TO A SERIES

Carolyn J. Rose emerged from the University of Arizona with a degree and a tan and stayed on for graduate school. Thanks to boredom and a public service announcement on late-night TV, she abandoned literary studies for two years with Volunteers in Service to America. From there she entered the land of TV news, spending twenty-five years as a researcher, writer, producer, and assignment editor She’s now a high school substitute teacher, which led to her Subbing isn’t for Sissies mystery series. Learn more about her and her books at her website.

In Search of a Soft Farewell

Many readers have been left longing for more when a writer (Sue Grafton, for example) dies and a series comes to a sudden stop. Many TV viewers have been devastated when a series is cancelled by a network or a production company and ends without resolution or, worse yet, ends with a cliffhanger. You may have wondered, as I have, if writers had crafted more of the abandoned story. You may also have thought about trying to find those writers and slipping them a few bucks in exchange for summaries of those “missing” episodes. 

With that in mind, as I labor through revisions of No Substitute for Matrimony, my task is to figure out how to let readers down gently. It’s the final book in the Subbing isn’t for Sissies series, so I need to tie up the loose ends of storylines and character arcs so nothing is left hanging. My goal is to leave characters poised to walk toward the horizon and the adventures they might have next.

It’s not easy.

But neither is getting a series—even an “accidental” series like mine—underway.

Crafting the “right” words to begin a story can be a torturous process. Unless an amazing first line has flashed into my mind, I take care of that pesky starting-off problem by writing “Something incredibly brilliant goes here,” drawing a line, and then launching my new project with the second sentence or paragraph. When the first draft is complete, I know more about plot and character and theme. I know how the story unfolds, and I know the “seeds” I should plant in the first few lines to engage readers.

The ending is a product of what I plant. It’s the ripe fruit at the end of the vine. It should be satisfying, and its taste should linger. But it should also leave a reader wanting more.

But what if there won’t be more?

That’s the question I’m asking myself as I complete the final adventures of substitute teacher Barbara Reed, her scruffy and entitled mutt Cheese Puff, her wealthy neighbor Muriel Ballantine, her fiancé Detective Dave Martin, and a host of others.

I’ve enjoyed writing the books in this series and I could probably write more. I’m in decent health (so far, but with COVID19 out there, who know?) and the characters have plenty of ideas about what could happen in a fourteenth book. I know this because they “speak” to me—mostly in the middle of the night. And no, I’m not worried about my mental health because I’ve talked with many other writers who experience the same thing. We can’t all be crazy, can we?

I’m ending the series for several reasons. First, the characters seem to be at good places in their lives, so I don’t feel guilty about leaving them.

Second, keeping track of all the tiny details of character and setting has become a chore. I confess! I created some of this hardship myself by neglecting to keep careful notes. (If you look up “slipshod” in the dictionary, you might find a picture of me.) My (self) defense is that when I wrote the first book, No Substitute for Murder, I had no idea I’d hear from so many readers who felt it should anchor a series.

Third, I think there’s a limit to how many murders and other crimes I can inflict on the fictional town of Reckless River, Washington. I don’t want readers to accuse me of having Cabot Cove Syndrome.

And fourth, I have ideas for other stories involving other characters.

I hope I’ll succeed in crafting a soft farewell at the conclusion of No Substitute for Matrimony. I hope I’ll be able to end the series by opening doors for characters instead of slamming doors on readers. Perhaps, when the book comes out in the fall, a few of you will let me know how I did. 

No Substitute for Mimes

Subbing Isn’t for Sissies Mystery, Book 12

Suddenly, mimes seem to be everywhere in Reckless River, Washington. Their antics amuse residents at first. Then street theater gives way to street crime. Fast, organized, and armed with cream pies, mimes avoid capture. And they baffle police by delivering stolen items to the cop shop.

Barbara Reed suspects the thefts are designed to frustrate and misdirect authorities, increasing the success of a major heist. Crime reporter Stan Stewart agrees, but his investigation gets nowhere. Mimes aren’t talking.

Barb would like to help track facts, but she has a bad cold and a new assistant principal is making her subbing life miserable. On top of that, Mrs. Ballantine is pushing her to set a wedding date, and she’s been guilt-tripped into helping at an outdoor holiday market.

When mimes set their big plan in motion, Barb and her tiny mutt Cheese Puff are in exactly the wrong place. Or are they?

Buy Links

paperback 

ebook 

AUTHOR CAROLYN J. ROSE ON HOW A MAJOR LIFE CHANGE LED TO A MYSTERY SERIES

Carolyn J. Rose grew up in New York's Catskill Mountains, the setting for her Hemlock Lake mystery trilogy. She emerged from the University of Arizona with a degree and a tan, and joined Volunteers in Service to America where chance encounters led her to the land of TV news and 25 years as a researcher, writer, producer, and assignment editor in Arkansas, New Mexico, Oregon, and Washington. She’s now a high school substitute teacher in Vancouver, Washington where she reads, swims, walks, gardens, and refrains from cooking. Today she joins us to discuss how a major change in her life led to the creation of a mystery series. Learn more about Carolyn and her books at her website.

Change, Chaos, and Conflict Build Characters

Confession: I’m not a full-blown control freak, but I am the kind of person who prefers to keep both hands on the wheel and my foot in the vicinity of the brake. If I’m heading for unfamiliar territory, I want a map, a GPS, or at least a solid set of directions describing landmarks, hazards, and possible alternate routes.

But if I hadn’t taken a leap beyond my comfort zone—not that TV news producing was all that comfortable a zone—I might never have created substitute teacher Barbara Reed. And without Barb, I wouldn’t have created her scruffy orange dog Cheese Puff, or the quirky residents of fictional Reckless River, Washington.

I didn’t leap by choice. Dreading a mind-numbing commute, I abandoned TV, dug out my teaching degree, and went back to high school. The landing from my leap wasn’t soft. More than thirty years had passed since I did my student teaching. Things had changed. A lot.

Sure, the basic elements were familiar—hallways, rooms, desks, books, principals, teachers, students—but that was about it. Rules had relaxed. Dress codes were a joke Boundaries were blurred. Expectations seemed lower. And conversations I would have had only in a whisper with a close friend were often held in outside voices.

My first day was nearly my last. I kept at it only by reminding myself that 1) I had a mortgage, 2) the old saying that what didn’t kill you made you stronger might actually be true, 3) if I took enough subbing jobs, I could afford to spend the summer writing, and 4) the experience would make me more aware of kids’ problems and more involved in the community.

I kept a journal, recording the outlandish, the humorous, and the heartbreaking. I jotted down details of successes (few) and failures (many). The notes were aimed at making sense of my experiences and finding my way toward better classroom control and less chaos. It wasn’t long, however, before I realized the chaos journal was a gold mine yielding idea nuggets for plot and character. So far I’ve mined ideas for ten books in the Subbing Isn’t for Sissies series, and have an eleventh releasing soon.

Of course, I had to hammer and melt and shape and polish the idea nuggets. I changed names and character details. Because the teen years are filled with drama, and because teens often blow things out of proportion, I did the same. The band at fictional Captain Meriwether High School is not just loud; it’s so loud Barb needs earplugs when she subs. A history teacher dresses as General Grant, complete with a cigar, and sets off the fire alarm. The cooking teacher specializes in bizarre recipes featuring eels.

Keeping chaos in mind, I populated Barb’s life outside of school with characters I’d like to know and others I’d drive miles to avoid. I gave her a wealthy and generous neighbor with a shady background. Mrs. Ballantine believes the bigger the problem, the more strings of pearls she’ll need to wear to deal with it. For a touch of romance with complications, I paired Barb with a drug cop raising a drama queen daughter. For conflict, I gave Barb a philandering ex-husband she can’t seem to shake, a domineering sister with definite ideas about life choices, and an arch enemy in the form of the woman who manages her condo complex.

When I wrote the first book in the series I had two small dogs. Both were cute and cuddly and full of personality. Both were also extremely stubborn and despite months of training, seldom obeyed. I rolled them into one entitled mutt and named him after my favorite snack.

To generate plots and provide crimes for my amateur sleuth to investigate, I populated Reckless River with characters ripped from the headlines—politicians without scruples, drug dealers, the wealthy and entitled, striking teachers, and even Bigfoot.

Why not? The Footster is a Pacific Northwest icon. And, once I went over the top in terms of character development, it was easy to keep going.

No Substitute for Murder

Subbing Isn’t for Sissies series, Book 1

Divorced from a philandering con man and downsized from her job as a talk radio show producer, Barbara Reed is desperate. She’s got a mortgage, a college loan, an aging car, and a ten-pound dog named Cheese Puff. But when she signs on as a high school substitute and finds a history teacher strangled with his own outdated tie, her stress level soars.

The list of suspects is a long one, but police put Barb at the top. When she discovers a second body, the noose of circumstantial evidence tightens. With help from the showgirl widow of a reputed mobster, a trash-scavenging derelict, and members of the Cheese Puff Care and Comfort Committee, Barb struggles to keep a grip on her job, her sanity, and her freedom.

Buy Links

paperback

ebook 

THIS WEEK'S BOOK GIVEAWAY WINNER

Thanks to all who stopped by Killer Crafts & Crafty Killers this week and special thanks to our Book Club Friday guest author Carolyn J. Rose who graciously offered a copy of No Substitute for Money to one of our readers. The winner is Gemma Juliana. Gemma, please contact me at anastasiapollack@gmail.com so I can put you in touch with Carolyn.

BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--GUEST AUTHOR CAROLYN J. ROSE

Carolyn J. Rose is the author of several novels and has also written one with her husband Mike Nettleton. Carolyn logged two years in Arkansas with Volunteers in Service to America, and spent 25 years as a television news researcher, writer, producer, and assignment editor. She founded the Vancouver Writers' Mixers and is an active supporter of her local bookstore, Cover to Cover. Learn more about Carolyn and her books at her website. – AP 

High School Mysteries

Unlike some, my high school years weren’t filled with glory days. Nor were they packed with torture and torment. They were mostly boring.

I went to high school in the age of lectures, blackboards, chalk dust, vocabulary drills, pop quizzes, essay tests, and homework every night. Monotony was broken only by tedium and ennui.

As we wallowed in the educational doldrums, my friends and I were always on the lookout for something different, something mysterious. We wanted to decide on our own what to wonder about instead of being told we should be curious whether x +145 really equaled 139, what the theme of a particular story was, or if political alliances laid the foundation for World War I.

The four major things I wondered about in high school were: What did teachers wear when they were off duty? What did they do on weekends and over the summer? What was the teachers’ room like and what went on in there? Did teachers have emotions like we did—specifically romantic ones?

This was back in the day when male teachers wore suits, conservative ties, and white, beige, or gray shirts. Female teachers wore dresses or skirts, blouses, and sweater sets. They always had on stockings and heels.

To answer question number 1, my friends and I considered the clothing our parents wore around the house. Then we ruled out the ratty and casual—cut-off jeans and T-shirts, shorts and sandals. Bathing suits, of course, were unthinkable. Our imaginations wouldn’t stretch that far.

As for their vacation time, we knew some of our teachers traveled. There would be postcards on bulletin boards in September and sometimes a souvenir on a desk. Once we spotted an embroidered blouse acquired in Mexico. We knew at least one of our male teachers worked a summer construction job—he’d been sighted in the company truck. But as for the rest, we imagined they passed the time reading textbooks and taking fiendish glee in developing tricky quiz questions designed to lower our grades.

We were forever detouring past the teachers’ room, hoping for a glimpse inside. Occasionally the door opened, but only wide enough for a teacher to slip out. Some kids claimed to have peered through that narrow gap and spotted a refrigerator and a sink, even a sofa, but they said the view was obscured by a dense cloud of cigarette smoke. Did teachers have a television in there? A record player? A vending machine? Reclining chairs? (For the record, when I finally got invited inside a teachers’ room while student teaching at Tucson High School, I wondered why I’d spent so much time wondering. The room was small, shrouded in stale cigarette smoke, and packed with cast-off furniture. The teachers inside were grading, snacking, or comparing notes.)

In an attempt to answer question number 4—the big one—we watched male and female teachers when they interacted. If we discovered that Mr. X and Miss Y smiled at each other a lot and both signed up to chaperone a field trip, we debated whether they were right for each other and (with giggles and blushes) what they might do on a date. We would be surprised or disappointed if the next year found Mr. X smiling at Miss Z. We would be stunned if we learned that Miss Y was engaged to someone who wasn’t a teacher, someone she met outside of our school, outside of our world. How was that possible?

When I went back to high school as a substitute 35 years after I graduated, I was amazed by all that had changed. But, despite computers and videos and interactive white boards, kids still battle boredom and still wonder about their teachers’ private lives. Often that curiosity isn’t limited to simply watching and wondering as it was back in the day.

I’ve had kids stop me in the supermarket to inspect the contents of my basket and question my choices. They screech their cars to a halt if they see me walking my dogs or raking the lawn. They ask me what kind of car I drive and how much money I make and which movies I like and whether I dye my hair and how long I’ve been married. Sometime they ask even more personal questions that make me squirm and rush to change the subject.

I’ve channeled a few of those uncomfortable moments into my cozy mysteries set at fictional Captain Meriwether High School in Reckless River, Washington. In No Substitute for Murder, sub Barbara Reed deals with a question about drugs by intentionally misunderstanding and stalling until the bell rings. In No Substitute for Money, she wrestles with speculation about the state of her love life.

What did you wonder about when you were in high school?

Share your memory in a comment and get into the drawing for a copy of No Substitute for Money.

No Substitute for Money

Substitute teacher Barbara Reed knows better than to say the word “perfect.” Using the P-word is a sure way to jinx romance, finance, and circumstance.

Despite a chronic shortage of funds, things are looking up for Barb after the events of No Substitute for Murder. She’s completing grad school and hoping for a job at Captain Meriwether High School in Reckless River, Washington. Her drug-cop boyfriend, Dave Martin, wants to move in and his daughter is all in favor. Even Barb’s tiny dog Cheese Puff has no objections—undaunted by size, he’s infatuated with Dave’s partner Lola, a drug-sniffing Golden Retriever.

Then Dave uses the P-word. And Barb’s luck leaves town.

Her car breaks down, her domineering sister comes for a visit, the condo manager plots to ban dogs, her jailed ex-husband begs her to be a character witness at his trial, a computer hacker creates chaos at the high school, and a hulking thug threatens violence.

Just when it appears things can’t get worse, Lola sniffs out a package in her car and a drug dealer decides Barb and Cheese Puff are his tickets out of trouble.

Buy Links

(paperback) (ebook)

Readers, remember, if you'd like a chance to win a copy of No Substitute for Money, leave a comment. The winner will be announced on the blog Sunday, so don't forget to check to see if you've won. You'll need to contact me so that I can put you in touch with Carolyn.--AP