MYSTERY AUTHOR NANCY NAU SULLIVAN ON CHARACTER INSPIRATION

Nancy Nau Sullivan's Mission Improbable: Vietnam is the third installment in the Blanche Murninghan mystery series—the first, Saving Tuna Street was nominated for best mystery, 2020, at Foreword Reviews. Nancy, a former newspaper journalist, taught English in Mexico, Argentina, and at a boys' prison. Learn more about Nancy and her books at her website where you can also find links to her at various social media sites. 

That Favorite Guy

My characters are a mix of people I've read about or seen on the screen—and know personally—with a great deal of imagination thrown in.

 

This week, I was reminded of how remote this dive into imagination can go—I turned on the television one early morning, and there was The Lone Ranger. I'd watched this show every day as a twelve-year-old, and now here was the masked man with Tonto riding away before my eyes more than fifty years later. Did they have anything to do with my Blanche Murninghan, a do-gooder mystery sleuth, and her sister-cousin, Haasi Hakla, a Miccosukee Indian? Oh well, I'd never thought of it until now. Blanche is on to her third adventure – this time in Vietnam.

 

Creating characters is awfully fun, and strange, and while each book has at least half a dozen saints and troublemakers, there always seems to be one who emerges as my favorite—the one who is allowed to say and do the craziest stuff. 

 

Lately, the flavor du jour is Stick.

 

And he's no “stick.” Walter Winchell “Stick” Dahlkamp is a hulk of an Army vet who stayed behind in Vietnam and opened a bar called “The Follies,” so named for the erstwhile news conferences that falsely reported the casualty of war. It's Blanche Murninghan's great luck to happen upon him in Saigon as she and her friend Jean are on a hunt to find Jean's mother. (Haasi stayed home for this one.) The search is the crux of the third installment in the Blanche Murninghan mystery series, Mission Improbable: Vietnam, now available for preorder.

 

I had a lot of fun inventing Stick. Firstly, I couldn't plop Blanche down in Vietnam without some sort of compass to solve her problem. Enter Stick. Blanche and Jean meet up with him at The Follies one night, and he gamely offers to aid in the search for Jean's mom. And so the adventure ramps up. Stick has a super-duper motorcycle, and he knows his way around Saigon and a rice paddy or two. He's also friends with a cast of Vietnamese—which aids in Blanche and Jean's search. In addition to helping Jean, Blanche is determined to find out the truth about what happened to her father during the Vietnam War. He is MIA.

 

In the invention of Stick, I drew upon my three brothers and four sons. They have college degrees and professions (business owners and managers and salesmen, one's a doctor and some have military backgrounds). And they're funny, profane, and good natured, for the most part. Stick's attention to getting business done and his do-right philosophy are based on my guys. But I have to admit, the real capper on this character comes from my love of Skink and Clete. 

 

Skink is a Florida ex-governor who runs away and lives in the Everglades, subsisting on roadkill and righteousness. He's the invention of Carl Hiaasen, my go-to, all-time favorite Florida writer. Clete is James Lee Burke's crazed NOLA character, an ex-con who doesn't stand for the shenanigans of lowlifes, especially when they meddle with his bestie, Dave Robicheaux, an ex-cop, recovering-alcoholic good guy. Clete is not above putting sugar in the fuel tank of a bad man's airplane to exact revenge and save the day. There is something compelling in honor among thieves and rascals.

 

I will not say good-bye to Stick with “The End” of Mission Improbable: Vietnam. I like him too much. I will have to figure out a way to bring him back into Blanche's life on Santa Maria Island. Stick loves the water, beer, and surfing. Good-bye, Saigon—at least for a while—and, hello, Florida? Here comes Stick.

 

Mission Improbable: Vietnam

A Blanche Murningham Mystery, Book 3

 

It’s 2003, nearly 30 years after the Vietnam War…

 

Blanche “Bang” Murninghan is sitting on the dock of the Peel ‘n Eat Pier on Santa Maria Island, sipping an excellent draft. She doesn’t see the woman eyeing her—not until she appears at Blanche’s side and forever disrupts Blanche’s peaceful idyll in this quiet Gulf coast town. Blanche's reputation as an amateur sleuth has gotten around...

 

The woman is Jean McMahon, the daughter of an American soldier and a wealthy Vietnamese beauty. Jean needs Blanche's “determination.” Will Blanche go to Vietnam and help Jean look for her mother? The request hits Blanche hard. Her father was killed in Vietnam, and she’s never gotten over it.

 

In Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Blanche and Jean meet ex-pat “Stick” Dahlkamp. The adventure ramps up. They board Stick's motorcycle and cross rice paddies, the old stomping grounds for Stick, a former Ninth Infantry Division Riverine and now owner of The Follies, a popular bar in Saigon. He’s got friends in jungle towns who might help, and indeed they do. And don’t. Shady characters keep hampering the search, and Blanche can't figure why. 

 

They race on—to all the places Jean's mother met Hank McMahon, a former infantryman. Blanche is wondering if things will get better – now that they've gotten worse. But her stubbornness beats down the door. She is helping Jean, and she's following her father’s trail. He left without a trace. Or did he?

 

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#COOKING WITH CLORIS--CHILAQUILES AND MYSTERY IN MEXICO WITH AUTHOR NANCY NAU SULLIVAN

A former newspaper journalist, Nancy Nau Sullivan taught English in Argentina, in the Peace Corps in Mexico, and at a boys’ prison in Florida. Now she spends her days writing mystery. Nancy now lives in Northwest Indiana and, often, anywhere near water. Learn more about her and her books at her website. 

Trouble (and Adventure) Down Mexico Way

 

If you ever get to Mexico City, be sure to pack good walking shoes. I’d head to the bakery and end up wandering into an exhibit, or start off down the Paseo de la Reforma toward Chapultepec Park and find myself at the Castle overlooking the city. In 2013, I joined the Peace Corps and taught English in Queretaro, some three hours north of El Distrito. And every chance I got, I rode the bus to the famous capital, bustling with color and flavor, a delight at every turn.

 

It was an exhibit at the Palacio Nacional that gave me the idea for Blanche Murninghan’s second adventure in Trouble Down Mexico Way, Book 2 in my Blanch Murninghan Mysteries. The 500 or so artifacts assembled at the famous cultural center were the first showing of these ancient Mayan pieces, gathered from the Yucatan, Belize, Guatemala, and Honduras. A whole civilization of clay figures glowed under soft lighting with intriguing and ghostly lines—dogs and crocodiles laughing, ancients playing ball (with a skull?), mothers and children, replicas of houses, dishes, dress. The stage was set in my head. I had to throw a mummy into the mix, and the story took off running. 

 

In the mystery, Blanche, a part-time journalist and Florida island girl, heads to Mexico City with her cousin, Haasi. She’s usually along for the adventure, pulling Blanche back on track, calming her down. Trying to talk some sense into that girl.  

 

They visit an exhibit and the mummy on display doesn’t seem quite right to Blanche. So, she makes up her mind to investigate, and drags Haasi along. This shriveled woman in the floor under glass with leathery skin and hay-like hair becomes, to Blanche, our mummy. Haasi reminds Blanche that the mummy is not part of the family, but the two cousins soon fall in together and begin an adventure in and around Mexico City to find the creator of this fake mummy. Along the way they stumble into an art theft ring, a couple of kidnapping attempts, and a diverse cast of flavorful characters.

 

Since I’d toured Mexico City numerous times, it didn’t take much poking of my imagination to come up with menus, attractions, and settings for the book. I purchased a Fodor’s of that period (the story takes place around 2002), got out my maps—and my old class lists to shuffle up the names for my characters. It also helped that I had tons of pictures. 

 

One of my best memories of Mexico City is the food. What these cooks can do with the basics that have been around since the Aztecs—corn, tomatoes, peppers, squash—is boggling. I discovered the tlayuda, an oval-shaped blue-corn crispy tortilla laden with nopal (cactus), black beans, and onions, available from a street vendor. In a hotel restaurant, I ordered huevos divorciados—a pretty plate of fried eggs with salsa verde(green sauce) covering half the dish and tomato (red sauce) on the other. 

 

But my favorite treat of all time appeared at a crowded stall in the market: tacos chamorro—pork cooked all day, on the spot, in a vat the size of a small bathtub—and served with a side of salted, blistered serranos. For a dollar or so, and an orange Victoria soda, there is nothing better. 

 

I ate pumpkin flowers and cactus and corn fungus (a sort of mushroom delicacy that grows on corn) and fruits I’d never heard of (cherimoya anyone?). The beer is worth a trip, and so is the Tres Leches cake with three kinds of milk, whipped cream, and fruit. Of course, these delicious treats are available in the US, but there is something lost in the translation.  

 

Here’s a recipe for chilaquiles (corn tortilla, salsa, and fried eggs), a kind of deconstructed enchilada—great for breakfast or any time:

 

Heat a generous measure of two cups of salsa (green or tomato, or both) in a large flat pan. Add up to three dozen thick, crunchy fried corn tortilla wedges, or chips, to the salsa and heat through until softened. Fry four eggs in another pan. Plate salsa-chip mix, put eggs on top, and finish off with dollops of sour cream, avocado slices, minced cilantro (or epazote, if you can get it), and onion. 

 

Suggestion: shredded chicken or beef or chopped chorizo may be added to salsa mix. Don’t forget the lime wedges and Valentina sauce, ubiquitous additions at every Mexican meal. Serves two or four.

 

Salud!

 

Trouble Down Mexico Way

A Blanch Murninghan Mystery, Book 2

 

When Blanche “Bang” Murninghan visits an exhibit of ancient Mayan ruins in Mexico City, she sees that all is not ancient. One of the mummies has a pink hair clip embedded in its hay-like do, and the texture of the skin is not quite right. Blanche, a part-time journalist, starts to dig for some answers and gets tangled in the mystery of the mummy at the Palacio Nacional. Her cousin and traveling companion, Haasi Hakla, aids and abets—and puts the reins on Blanche. All the while, the two eat and drink their way across the city, following one hunch after another with a cast of colorful characters that include a prescient elderly chilanga, an amiable overworked detective, and a stunning doctor of shady deeds. The cousins are willing to risk kidnapping and attempted murder to get at the truth—but first, Blanche stops for another excellent beer and Haasi delights in one more taco al pastor.

 

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BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--AUTHOR NANCY NAU SULLIVAN ON WHAT MYSTERY READERS LIKE (AND DISLIKE)

Nancy Nau Sullivan’s first mystery in the Blanche Murninghan series, Saving Tuna Street, launches June 23. It's a series with a suitcase--next installment, Mexico, then Vietnam, Ireland, Argentina, and Spain. A former journalist, Nancy taught English in Argentina, Mexico, and at a boys’ prison in Florida. Learn more about Nancy and her books at her website.

It’s a Mystery to Me

I asked some critique groups I belong to for comments about likes and dislikes of the mystery genre: 

First off, one reader jumped right in to put mysteries into two camps: A mystery is suspense (the reader knows who did the deed but is held in abeyance with the author’s sleight of hand) and the mystery is thriller (the reader doesn’t know the perpetrator and there’s a thrill around every corner until the end). One reader mentioned that many writers combine both—He offered Lisa Unger and Greg Iles as examples. 

Agatha Christie is right up there on the lists of most popular mystery writers. In her books, the reader doesn’t know whodunit until the puzzle pieces are put together at the end. Agatha has four on the list of the top 100 mystery stories, according to Mystery Writers of America. (Strangely enough, To Kill a Mockingbird is number 60--for its suspense? Rosemary’s Baby comes in at 100. Isn’t that horror?)

The lines are blurred, and waver all over the genre. Carolyn Keane, the pseudonym for Nancy Drew, is probably single-handedly responsible for inspiring a generation of mystery writers, even though Nancy did not deal in dead bodies. She was busy finding out who stole the heirlooms and driving around in that fabulous little roadster. I got hooked early.

Other notes in my unscientific survey:

·   Clues. “They shouldn’t look like clues until the end,” said Dawn. Lisa likes “delicious, well-place clues.” Rachael likes “a mix of subtle and obvious clues.”

·   Murder. “Most people don’t understand it, and they want to know why someone would do such a thing,” according to Yvonne. It’s “intriguing and, usually, the stakes are high.”

·   Design. A good mystery should be like “a puzzle, like a locked room, and it’s fun to finally get in,” says Jacquelyn. 

Some readers object to the lack of diversity in mysteries and a tendency toward misogyny and sexism. As regards the latter, Melissa was turned off by the writer who was obsessed with breasts. He had breasts “winking” and “smiling” in nearly every scene with a female.  

A couple of readers said they don’t like the killer to come out of left field, or the evil twin to show up with little explanation, or the cop to always be a bumbling idiot. 

Julienne does not like “shock at the expense of logic.” I recall my addiction to Perry Mason, and wonder why out of the half a dozen suspects the least likely was the one to usually jump up in the back of the courtroom at the last minute. I cry, foul.

Some readers don’t want a lot of clues and say they are smart enough to figure it out. They are unhappy with books that hand over the outcome too soon. Nonetheless, the story does need to wrap up nicely. Melissa put the capper on it: “I love the moment it all comes together, when the disparate threads make sense.” For each reader, that moment may be different, but most agree it does need to happen. Mystery writers should not leave their thread hanging…

What is it for you? Why do you like mysteries?

Saving Tuna Street

A Blanche Murninghan Mystery, Book 1

Blanche “Bang” Murninghan is a part-time journalist with a penchant for walking the beach on her beloved Santa Maria Island. Gran left her a cabin on Tuna Street, and she’s got her friends and family. All is well. Until the land-grabbing goons arrive. Blanche finds herself in a tailspin. Her friend, Bob Blankenship is found murdered, and she suspects the slick, handsome land developer Sergi Langstrom and his company of chaos are behind it all. Blanche keeps digging. All the way to hell. The goons, it seems, are a front for a drug cartel.

The harder Blanche pushes against the source of trouble, the more she is sucked into the vortex of greed, murder, drug runners, and kidnapping (hers). Who can look away? It’s like watching a hurricane, which, literally, comes straight for Tuna Street.

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BOOK CLUB FRIDAY--AUTHOR NANCY NAU SULLIVAN'S INSPIRATION FOR HER MEMOIR

Nancy Nau Sullivan’s memoir The Last Cadillac won two Eric Hoffer awards. Her first mystery, Saving Tuna Street, will be released in June 2020. She has a master’s degree in journalism from Marquette University and worked at newspapers in the Midwest. Learn more about her and her books at her website.

Writing a Memoir

My memoir started with an explosion of sorts: My mother died, my marriage crashed, and my father announced he was leaving Indiana and coming to live with me and the kids on an island in Florida. It wasn’t an easy time. My siblings accused me of “kidnapping” Dad. He had a number of health problems, and I had no idea how to deal with illnesses of the elderly, particularly cancer and dementia. But my dad and I were close. I couldn’t disappoint him. I wanted to take care of him – and at the same time do the best for my two kids still at home. And so began my memoir The Last Cadillac …

As a newspaper journalist, I was drawn to writing it all down. On occasion, I’d written feature articles about the “sándwich generation.” Now, suddenly, I was in the sándwich – in the middle between caring for my elderly parent on one side and the young ones on the other. I began to see that whether planned or not, most of us end up being caregivers, or being cared for.  Many of these caregivers told me their stories, and I had to tell mine.

There is no manual for this sort of family adventure, and it was not my intention to write one. But I felt strongly I had to write about what I did right and what I did wrong, and there was plenty of the latter.

Even as I was driven to write my book, the effort seemed doomed from the start. For one, I hardly had time to think straight about what was happening one day to the next. Dad would wake up hobbled with leg or back pain; the kids had all sorts of activities: cheerleading, soccer, birthday parties. And all along, I jotted down events and bits of dialogue as we went “down life’s path” (Dad).

Getting to the heart was essential.  I trained myself to stay focused on the message – about care giving while juggling life:

I knew where my story would begin – with Dad’s announcement that he was coming to live with us – and I knew where it would end. With his death. It took me a long time to write that ending. The middle was a never-ending series of mishaps and discoveries about how to stay on my feet. (Loving mostly every minute, as it turned out.)

The message kept me going and moved me along. I had a point and I stuck to it. I was writing a warning, of sorts, but I tried to be encouraging, and some of it was pretty funny. At least, that’s what they tell me, and I have to look back on some of it and laugh.

  

One standout from all of it was that much of the drama, disappointment, and sometimes disaster could have been averted with better planning and communication. I blame all of us for not cooling off, sitting down, and really communicating (especially the listening part).  As a family, we did nothing to prepare for any of it.  My parents didn’t talk about money – “How vulgar!” And my mother never used the word “cancer” when she got sick. It was “The Big C.” We talked a lot, but we did not communicate very well. With the divorce, and the kids, and then Dad and all my personal problems, I didn’t take into consideration that my siblings had just lost their mother – and now they were going to lose their father to Florida some 1200 miles away.

 But we got through it. I wrote the story, which now has been dubbed “a must-read for caregivers” and “a common sense and humorous guide to surviving family relationships.” I hope it helps some people. Most of us have parents and relatives we are concerned about, and we will need to take care of them. I didn’t see it coming, nor did I do anything to prevent it when the situation presented itself almost overnight. I tried to enjoy it, and learn something from it. I did see, finally, that humor and love worked in our favor. But I didn’t have to write a book to know that. A lot of love was always there.

The Last Cadillac, a Memoir

Middle-age is challenging enough, but when Nancy Nau Sullivan suddenly finds herself caring for two children, grappling with her mother’s death, and caring for her ailing father while at the same time navigating a contentious divorce and dealing with long-simmering sibling rivalries, she wonders how she can keep herself sane. Things get even more complicated when her siblings accuse her of “kidnapping” their father and carting him and his Cadillac off to Anna Maria Island, Florida, where they are greeted by Hurricane Josephine. In this gripping memoir, Sullivan guides the reader through the chaotic whirlwind of unexpected and unwanted change and offers a common sense and humorous guide to surviving family relationships.

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