What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you completely finished the piece of fiction? My newest release, coming out April 1, is a cozy mystery called The Unwelcome Wagon, Book 1 of the Book & Mug Mysteries. It started out as a romantic suspense series, tied together by a search for a number of Venetian glass heart lockets, and to unlock the clues hidden inside them. I pitched it, a publisher said to send the first book, but my agent at that time never sent it in. About a month after I sent her the book, she asked me to consider turning it into a cozy series, rather than following the romantic suspense angle.
So the long answer is that I started transforming the romantic suspense a cozy in 2019. I brainstormed the small town where everything took place, revamped the characters, changed the backgrounds of some, and reworked the timeline of different events planned for the romantic suspense, which is now background for the cozy stories. In between other publishing projects, including running two small presses, I took Wagon out from time to time to polish and tweak.
Fall of ’21, I agreed with my co-owner of Mt. Zion Ridge Press (Tamara Lynn Kraft) to launch Book & Mug this spring … so after going through edits and final tweaks (because you always find stupid glitches while narrating a book for audio) the official, set-in-stone version of the book was completed at the end of February ’22.
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https://www.mtzionridgepress.com/
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https://tkrafty.wixsite.com/tameralynnkraft
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Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work? And please describe in detail. And can you please include a photo? Most of my writing is done on my notebook computer at a drafting table I inherited from my father, in my office at home. Umm, no, you do not want to see my messy cave! It’s lined with bookshelves and piles on the floor with different projects in different stages of organizing and completion, files, an old stereo, milk crates holding files, a love seat for reading. And a map of the town of Camden Township, the site of the Book & Mug Mysteries, sketched out on a dozen sheets of graph paper taped together and hanging on the wall.
What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? My regular schedule for writing is to get up around 5:30/6am, have my devotions and breakfast, and try to get an hour of rough writing in before I go help my physically handicapped brother start his day. Then when I get back home, write/revise a different project until maybe noon or 1pm, on my notebook computer. I usually use the Songs section of iTunes and let it run from one album to another, all soundtracks from movies and TV shows. Lots of fantasy and SF, a few classical pieces, some New Age stuff. Vocal music gets in the way of my focus. Didn’t have that problem when I was younger!
I switch back and forth between water with a splash of cider vinegar in it and tea. Lots of different flavors. I’m a tea snob and prefer loose leaf tea. I’ve been experimenting a little, creating a tea blend to go with my SF and fantasy small press, Ye Olde Dragon Books, that I call dragon tea: lapsang souchong with a dab of fresh ginger and a tiny pinch of cayenne pepper.
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Then in the afternoon I have office work to do — either editing a book for one of the two small presses I’m involved in, or freelance editing, or narrating an audiobook chapter, or editing an audiobook chapter, or trying to do some promotional work. Or errands. If I’m not braindead, after dinner (and Jeopardy) I open up my computer and try to get some more writing done.
Please include just one excerpt and include page numbers as reference. This one excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer.
Pages 51-53
She had just walked past the school buildings on her way home down Longview Road when a dark green sedan slowed a little as it passed her. Since it turned left at the next corner, only a hundred feet or so ahead of her, she didn’t think anything of it.
The car reappeared almost immediately, turned right, came back down the street, and slowed again as it passed her.
She counted under her breath, waiting for the car to return. There were several shops ahead on the next section of street, in among the houses, as the business district of Cadburn gave way to residential. She crossed the street at the intersection and saw the lights were out in the first one, Cadburn Hardware. Seriously? How could they justify closing a hardware store before 7pm?
The next business was a landscaping supply store. The lights were on, but there were no cars in the parking lot.
When the green sedan hadn’t returned, Saundra relaxed and told herself she was being stupid. She stopped counting after 100.
“Paranoid, anyone?” she muttered but picked up her pace. Just a little. Those clouds moving in had gotten darker and were nearly overhead now.
A car slowed, and she looked without thinking. When would she learn not to let the creeps know she knew they were there?
Her gaze locked with Cigar Man. She caught her breath.
At least, she thought it was him. He was wearing a baseball cap, and he hit the accelerator as soon as their gazes met. Saundra shivered and thought about turning around. Take shelter in the landscaping business, or take her chances that the next business, the art supply store, was still open? She had to go past six houses to get there.
She kept walking, despite knowing that brought her closer to the green car, which meant less time for it to come back and chase her down. Maybe run her down and steal her purse while she was stunned?
“You have got to stop watching those Investigation Discovery episodes,” she scolded herself, and managed a slightly shaky laugh. Aunt Cleo had gotten her addicted to the channel that covered one mystery, disappearance, and horrific murder after another. They teased each other that all those shows accomplished was to encourage people never to trust anyone and make home security systems installers and self-defense trainers rich.
Why did it suddenly seem like no one was traveling this street?
Saundra caught movement in the doorway of the art supply store. Just three more driveways ahead of her. Someone walked out and toward a car sitting in the parking lot. There were two more cars in the lot. Okay, that was a good sign. She just hoped she wouldn’t need —
Movement beyond the store caught her attention. A car pulled out from behind those other two cars, onto the street, and headed toward her. A dark car. Too far away to tell the color, but instinct insisted that was the green sedan.
“Discretion is the better part of valor,” she told herself and turned around. Was anyone home in any of these houses? She didn’t see any cars in the driveways. Saundra strained her ears for the sound of the green sedan coming up behind her.
“One of these days,” a familiar voice said, coming from the shadowy front porch of the house ahead of her, “you’re going to listen to me and invest in a taser. A can of pepper spray, at least.” It was low, rich with laughter, and her memory supplied the smirk that went with that lazy, teasing tone. “Keep walking. I want to see what this guy will try.”
“I don’t,” she retorted, fighting down a bubble of laughter that was partly relieved and partly a scream of frustration.
Nic West, Aunt Cleo’s protégé and sometime investigative partner, peered out between the thick, luxurious grape vines covering the trellis that cast the deep front porch of the Victorian house into shadows. He winked and tipped his head in the direction of the car she heard coming up behind her. Then he ducked back into hiding.
Chances were good part of that sensation of being watched today came from Nic spying on her. That was just how he operated. He showed up and watched her for a few hours, checking out her situation, before he made contact. Half the time, she wanted to accuse him of being terrified of running into the Mulcahys. Now what was his excuse? Testing her self-preservation instincts? Probably. Nic delighted in teaching her little tricks guaranteed to save her neck if she ever got into a really tight situation. Saundra hoped she would never need them, but she was grateful for the lessons. Not that she would ever tell him that.
Gravel crunched under tires. Cigar Man was pulling off the road, onto the berm. Saundra calculated how far he was behind her. She kept walking, straining her ears, focusing to block out the thudding of her heart.
Well, at least she was wrong. Cigar Man wasn’t going to —
Instinct screamed. Saundra leaped forward, off the sidewalk, across the ditch, angling up the front lawn of the next house. Behind her, the car’s engine roared into life and tires crunched and shot gravel behind them.
Bang — the car thudded. The engine screamed. Saundra turned, swinging her arm back, ready to sacrifice her groceries by flinging the bag into the windshield. She nearly pulled herself off her feet with the momentum of the bag.
Cigar Man shrieked curses and scrambled out of the car, now tipped sideways, with the front tires trapped in the ditch. Nic leaped out of hiding, trailing a few grape leaves behind him. Cigar Man fled across the street and up the driveway of the creepy-looking pink house with a yard full of gnomes.
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Why is this excerpt so emotional for you as a writer to write? And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt? Honestly, most of my emotion when writing this was a mixture of having fun showing that Saundra was one tough librarian, and frustration at all the scenes where heroines and heroes make stupid mistakes. Like in the movies when the creepy music starts and you just want to Gibbs-slap them for going into the haunted house or derelict mansion or dark forest despite all the warnings. Use some common sense, people. I wanted a heroine who analyzed and prepared herself, who paid attention to her surroundings, and got frustrated — without depending on superpowers or guns or totally unbelievable acrobatics. Or the villain made really stupid mistakes. Well, yeah, Cigar Man did mess up, going into the ditch … don’t worry, he gets himself killed very soon.
Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? And can you please include a photo of your marked up rough drafts of this excerpt. Sorry, I work entirely on my computer, so I don’t have printed drafts with notes, and I don’t use Track Changes when I’m revising. I do keep all my old drafts, but going back and comparing is just too nitpicky, and usually each draft has tiny changes, unless I’m adding entire scenes. I went through the file my editor sent me, with Track Changes and all her comments, but most of her comments were either asking for more background or description, or nagging me to give some of my characters guns. Umm, NO! All nitpicky stuff that didn’t change the big scenes or the flow of the story.
Click on the link below to read what Track Changes is and how it works.
Which, when you think about it, is a good sign that the book is in good shape. Nothing to change, nothing big to fix. Just the nitpicky stuff, and a lot of stylistic issues, rather than the mechanics and plotting and characterization.
I’m excited about this book coming out, and it’s already getting some good responses from reviewers. Next up is Brighten Your Corner, about two elderly ladies introduced in Book 1, who face some opposition when they want to open a candle store, and are the first suspects when the former tenant of the store space is found dead, mostly because he was so danged nasty to them.
Michelle L. Levigne
www.MichelleLevigne.blogspot.com
@MichelleLevigne
Most of the INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links can be found at the very end of the below feature:
http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2021/03/stephenson-holts-arranged-marriage-is.html