Pitching

No, not throwing a ball. A pitch in the publishing world means delivering a pithy witty one-minute spiel on your book to the agent or publisher of your dreams, in person, without stuttering or referring to notes. It has to capture the essence of the story, the main character, the setting, without being boring or including way too much detail.

A snap, right? Not! The fabulous and award-winning Avery Aames, who writes the cozy Cheese Shop Mysteries (and who has just had her series extended), produced a video on how to pitch and how not to pitch. It entertains as it educates. Thanks, Avery.

Why am I concerned with pitching? It so happens that this weekend is the New England Crime Bake. More than a half-dozen agents and several publishers will be in attendance. One might encounter them in the hall, at lunch, in the proverbial elevator. Plus there is a pitch session, where each attendee who signed up (including yours truly) gets five whole minutes with an agent. Gulp.


I have drafted a pitch for my second Speaking of Mystery series book, Bluffing is Murder. I'm not happy with it, despite getting some excellent feedback from the Guppies AgentQuest group. I have 62 hours left to revise the heck out of it. Gulp.

When Lauren Rousseau finds one of the secretive Trustees of the Bluffs murdered on the coastal Holt estate north of Boston, police at first suspect her of the murder because she had been seen arguing with the victim earlier in the day. After Lauren goes on a date with her flirtatious karate instructor, she digs up not only local clams but also the truth about the actual killer. A Linguistics professor, Lauren’s abilities to analyze text on a social-networking site lead her to the murderer. She solves the Holt killing and uses her Quaker contacts to unveil the mystery of her own father's death by the same killer nineteen years earlier.

Whaddya think?

A Year's Celebration and Accomplishments

It's my birthday. Nothing wrong with that. I love hearing from old friends and new. I scoop up news and best wishes from my sons and my siblings. I luxuriate in being treated to special meals and special treatment from my beau.

I fully admit to being a full-blown Scorpio. A double Scorpio, if you want to get particular, since I was born at sunrise, so my rising sign is also Scorpio. I am an extremist. In appetite, in love, in going after what I want, even sometimes in temper.


I am amazed by how many other Scorpios I have in my life. My closest friend. Other dear friends. A clutch of linguist friends (in grad school we used to hold the annual Scorpio Linguist Birthday Bash). A bunch (a murder?) of mystery-writer friends. Several relatives. A couple of influential (former) lovers. My first best friend from childhood. I guess we find connection, although it can involve fireworks, too.

One of the online writer groups I follow was started a year ago by Diane Vallere. She wanted to start a conversation and resource for fellow mystery writers who were seeking publication with a small press. It's been a great group. While I personally haven't yet succeeded in placing Speaking of Murder with a publisher, I get a lot of support and a lot of information from this group of Sisters (and Brothers) in Crime.

On this anniversary of the group, Diane suggested we all list our writing accomplishments for the year. Since for me this coincides with my birthday, I jumped right in. I was kind of surprised at the list, so I thought I'd share it here.

• I finished finishing SPEAKING OF MURDER, and worked hard to find an agent or a small press. Still working on that.
• My story "Reduction in Force" was published in THIN ICE by Level Best Books.
  
• I attended the Crime Bake and Malice Domestic conferences, the latter for the first time.
• My story "Stonecutter" was accepted for the FISH NETS anthology.
• I wrote 45,000 words on BLUFFING IS MURDER.
• I blogged weekly here. Posts possibly disappeared unread into the ether, but still it was good practice.
• I did some tweeting as @edithmaxwell.
• I participated in an in-person writers' group on Monday nights, meeting every other week or so, with excellent critique partners.
  
• Last month I wrote a proposal for a new cozy series involving a farm and locavores. Excited about that.
  

I guess that's not a bad year, considering that I have a nearly full-time job with a long commute, and am also on the board of SINC-New England, my local Democratic Town Committee, and my Friends Meeting. And I try to exercise daily, cook fresh foods, socialize, garden in season, and read. Okay, this is all making me tired!

Still, I look forward to another full year. Writing makes me happy, and that's always good. Thanks to all of you who have stopped by here and commented. Bloggers crave feedback, it turns out!

Thoughts Turn to Farming

Late-breaking news: The remarkable Aine Greaney graciously invited me to guest post on her blog about writing with a day job. Thanks, Aine. Anybody out there who hasn't read Dance Lessons and her other work, you should. And we'd love you to stop by and leave a comment. How do you integrate your day job with your creative work?

Now, about farms. Farms, you say? Sure. Think organic. Think local foods. Think Community Supported Agriculture. Think the Five Star Organic Farm in the early nineties in my former town of West Newbury. It was the smallest organic farm in Essex County, Massachusetts. It was certified organic by the Northeast Organic Farming Association (NOFA) and I was the farmer.

Nestled up against the Merrimac River, our small piece of land enabled me to grow and sell vegetables and fruits. My (now-ex) husband hauled manure and turned compost, and we were co-owners, but I was the full-time farmer. I was home with our little children after leaving a job in hi-tech when they wouldn't offer part-time work or flexible hours. I'd always wanted to grow more food on a larger plot than a small kitchen garden. The chance arose and we seized it.

Farming is really hard work, and it's drudge work. Aerobic exercise, it's not. But you get to be outdoors with the seasons and the birds and the earth. As a day job you can do a lot worse. I sold at the Newburyport Farmer's Market. I put up an honor-system farmstand out on the road. And I started a Community Supported Agriculture program in 1993, an early bud in a now-blossoming trend.

When I started writing mystery fiction during the last year of my farming life, my first book featured a female organic farmer and the intrigues of her life. I didn't finish that book. Looking back I realize how much of a novice writer I was then.

I'm now dusting off and updating that character for a possible new series, and I'm having a blast. Cam Flaherty has a CSA that includes a Locavore Club, the leader of which has read Barbara Kingsolver's book, Animal Vegetable Miracle. The farm has a Facebook page. The potential for mayhem on an organic farm seems without limit.

Stay tuned! Let me know your ideas for locavore lunacy, your experience with CSAs, what organic means or doesn't mean to you.

Aftertaste

I won a book on the Jungle Red Writers blog recently that I want everybody to read. It's Aftertaste, by Meredith Mileti.

The story is not technically a mystery, but mysteries do arise as we follow chef Mira Rinaldi through her anger-management classes, cooking at her acclaimed New York restaurant Grappa, and returning with her baby daughter to her family and roots in Pittsburgh. Will her husband acknowledge his daughter? Will Mira be able to hang onto her temper? Will Pittsburgh keep her from returning to New York? Will she follow her passion in work and love?

This is a wonderful book. Great characters, intriguing plot, beautiful writing. I particularly liked experiencing the inside scoop on what the life of a chef is like. Mileti's writing about food - its preparation and enjoyment - made me hungry page after page, although I don't think I have it in me to work the long hard hours of a professional chef. I asked Meredith how she learned so much about the restaurant business. This is what she was gracious enough to share with me:

"I actually did a fair amount of research for the novel. Oh, it was a tough job! I love to travel and eat out--food stands, greasy spoons, as well as more "serious" restaurants, and everything in between. So, for the years I spent writing the book we certainly did quite a bit of that. Many chefs were kind enough to answer my questions and some were kinder still in allowing me to peek into their kitchens. And, I cooked lots of Italian food, which I love. I learned to roll out homemade pasta with a rolling pin, an accomplishment I'm really proud of. (My husband jokes he gained twenty pounds during the writing of this novel!) I also read a lot. In particular, I found Michael Rhulman's series of books (The Making of a Chef, The Soul of a Chef, The Reach of a Chef) very enlightening. Bill Buford's Heat was helpful as well, not to mention tremendous fun."

Lucy Burdette (aka Roberta Islieb) at Jungle Red interviewed Meredith here, which is where I learned about her. It was fitting for Lucy to interview Meredith, since Lucy's first book about a restaurant reviewer will be out shortly.

I hope you'll find time to pick up Aftertaste and let me know what you think. And what's your favorite chef story? Best restaurant meal?

25-Word Fiction

The Guppies (the Great Unpublished) online subgroup of Sisters in Crime, of which I am an active member, has been soliciting 25-word flash crime stories to celebrate Sisters in Crime's 25th anniversary.

Sisters in Crime (SinC) is an international organization founded in 1986 to promote the professional development and advancement of women writing crime fiction. The early founders, notably Sara Paretsky, saw that female crime and mystery authors weren't being published or reviewed in any of the same numbers as male authors, despite the past influence of blockbusters like Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers (and many others).

SinC is now 25 years old and has made a huge difference in the professional - and personal, most likely - lives of countless women who write crime, mystery, and thriller fiction.

Here's what I submitted to the Guppies solicitation for 25-word stories:

"Just like prison, Doc," George quavered.

Dorothy administered her husband's final dose, winked at Brigitte.

"Death is like prison, too."

The plane to Rio awaited.

Fun, right? Some of the other entries have been very intriguing, to say the least. And I thought 150-word and 600-word flash fiction ( the last entry on my Publications tab) were a challenge!

Our New England chapter of Sisters in Crime threw a gala luncheon In Concord, Massachusetts a couple of weeks ago to celebrate the 25th anniversary. We were honored by several New England chapter founders and early active chapter members - Kate Flora, Linda Barnes, and Margaret Press, as well as past presidents Ruth McCarty and Pat Remick. Current president, Sheila Connolly presided. Our intrepid photographer Mo Walsh's photographs are here (she's here on the right!).

All our Goddess-Luminaries shared their memories of the early days of Sisters in Crime and what being part of a local chapter meant to them as budding writers. (Mo's photo of the Goddesses at left in thumbnail.)

Multiple dozens of writers consumed a tasty lunch, schmoozed, and networked all afternoon. Nobody offered up 25-word flash fiction on the spot, (but then, that was a different contest). Some then adjourned to visit the local bookstore or Louisa May Alcott's birthplace.

SinC New England is a large and active chapter. For the non-writer readers out there, we have a vibrant Speakers Bureau that provides libraries, book clubs, and bookstores with writer panels for all occasions. For writers, we hold workshops and subsidize courses by big-name teachers.

Who would you like to hear talk about writing? Who would you like to learn about writing from? If you're a writer, have you joined Sisters in Crime and the New England chapter? Most important, what's YOUR 25-word crime fiction? Share it here!

Retreating to Write

When life gets busy, a writer's thoughts can turn to getting away from it all. Finding a quiet room somewhere with a desk, a chair, a light, and a bed. One that won't break the bank. Maybe even one where simple meals are delivered a couple of times a day. No phone, no laundry, no Internet.

In such a setting, I dream of being super productive. Writing furiously for days on end, broken only by a daily long walk and a nap. Completing the last 100 pages of the work in progress. Doing an entire edit. Starting a new idea. Crafting a short story start to finish.

In reality, as Aine Greaney points out in Writer with a Day Job, there's often a few hours or a day at the beginning of adjusting, of settling in. Still, I think I'm gearing up for carving out some time. Aine recommends the Wellspring House in Western Massachusetts (whose room is pictured here), a retreat house for writers and artists. Or perhaps my friend Deb's beach house is empty for a weekend. Anywhere away from home where I can have more than 5 hours of uninterrupted time would be superb.

There are established artist retreats where scholarship winners can stay for weeks, even months. MacDowell in NewHampshire. The Norman Mailer Center in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Oregon Writers Colony. Dorland Mountain in California. They are competitive to get into with a long application lead time, though, plus then you need to be able to take the time off work to actually work there.

Possibilities for the future, sure. For now? Which weekend in the fall can I just claim?

And how about you? What kind of writing retreat works the best? Have you found a good one?

My Mother's Birthday

I can't be with my mother, Marilyn Ruth Flaherty Maxwell Muller on her 86th birthday tomorrow, so I thought I'd write a brief biography of her, instead, so you all can know what an awesome woman she is.

Marilyn Flaherty was a shy girl who grew up in Piedmont, California, a hilly small town across the bay from San Francisco. Already a third-generation Californian, she went sailing in the bay and in the Pacific with her father, roller-skated down steep hills, and put on gloves and a hat to go shopping in the city with her mother and younger sister.

As an undergraduate in history at the University of California, Berkeley, she met my father at a sorority dance. He was a shy Army recruit enrolled in Italian classes. They dated, fell in love, and wrote letters several times a week during the years he was stationed elsewhere in the States and then in the far reaches of India during the war. When he returned, they were married (see her guest post about her first car).

According to both of them, they talked ahead of time through all their plans for being a couple and being parents. They gave birth to four children, all less than two years apart (I'm #3). Mommy participated in a playgroup cooperative associated with a local college. She was home with us until we were in high school, and was a devoted Girl Scout leader (Leader of the Year in 1963) and Cub Scout den mother for my younger brother.

Our home was filled with books of all kinds. Mommy loved to read mysteries and my first Agatha Christie reads were her books. As a child when I couldn't sleep, I would sometimes make my way back into the living room where she sat reading, and if I was lucky (or if she chose to let me, more likely) I'd get some cherished time reading my own book next to her.

My mother was always creative. She made a puppet theater for us by painting a refrigerator box, sewing and mounting a curtain, and fabricating puppets out of old socks, buttons, paint, and fabric. She sewed intricate ballet costumes for my two older sisters and me every spring, four per girl, and taught the other mothers the patterns. She took a cake-decorating class and made roses (roses!) out of frosting. She sewed most of our clothes and knit us sweaters.

She also paid attention to our nutrition. Although she never really enjoyed cooking apart from baking, we always had balanced meals. She read Adele Davis and tossed things like dried milk into the Bisquik to give it more protein.

On our annual two-week camping vacations in the Sierras, she taught us about birds and plants. We'd lie on our backs at night in an open area with her and learn about the stars (yes, using the Rey book). She let us run loose within certain boundaries on vacation, making sure we checked in (with a code word - "I'm going to visit Mrs. McGillicuddy") when we headed off to the bathrooms. At home I could go off anywhere on my bike as long as I stayed within a certain square of blocks. We were self-sufficient at home, too. We kids made our own breakfasts and lunches as soon as we went to school. She wasn't into short-order prep for four picky eaters.

In their fifties my parents divorced. Both of them remarried happily. My stepfather Fred Muller and my mother moved north out of the LA smog to Ventura, California, where they spent many sweet years together. They'd drive the few hours to Las Vegas and take advantage of the many senior discounts on food and lodging. They'd gamble a little for a few days and then drive home. Mommy took up quilting, making numerous beautiful quilts for her children and grandchildren. She won awards at the County Fair and made some good friends in her quilt group, Stitch and Bitch. She and Fred played games every afternoon: Scrabble, cribbage, cards. (I didn't beat her at Scrabble until I was 50...)

My father had passed away by then, and Fred was a perfect step-grandfather to my sons. Mommy was and still is a devoted grandmother, suitably admiring and indulgent. She now has many great-grandchildren. All of her grandchildren and great-grands (as of 2007) and all but my brother are pictured at left.

Fred passed away from Alzheimers several years ago, and my mother no longer quilts. She's still a superstar with words, though, and loves to read her beloved Dick Francis.

Happy Birthday, Mommy!