Favorite Authors

/ Lisa / 6 Comments

There are some authors that I wish could write really, really fast, as I anxiously await their next book. When a new one does come out, I delay reading it, choosing instead to let it sit beside my bed while I read thrift store paperbacks, overdue library books, favorite blogs. Not only to delay gratification, but because the longer I wait to open that new book, the less time I have to wait until the next one comes out.

Several of us chatted before about Elizabeth Peters, so I thought I would like to bring up another author I like, who, by the way, is nothing like Elizabeth Peters.

Carol O’Connell has a mystery series out with a main character named Mallory. I won’t tell you her full name as that is one of the mysteries and a subplot in one of the books. Mallory was a street urchin picked up by a police officer and eventually adopted by him and his wife. She’s grown up to also be a police officer. She’s strong, independent, has a very small circle of people she trusts, and solves mysteries. Oh, and she’s a sociopath.

I first picked up a Mallory book because I was bored with protagonists who were beginning to all sound alike. I’ve stayed with this series because Mallory is so flawed, so injured from her past, so vulnerable. In spite of being one of these super strong female protagonists. I root for her while reading because I want her to find happiness. And yet I don’t want her to change because her sociopath behaviors not only give her strength but also, oddly enough, give her empathy for others who are also injured. She’s the classic hero of the underdog, even if she doesn’t realize it, and her methods are usually illegal. There is also humor in the things she does, and I have laughed often reading these books. O’Connell writes with a wry humor that catches me unawares.

You don’t have to read these books in order, but it does help to understand the character of Mallory if you do. Chalk Girl is the newest in the series, and I have finally given in and opened it. There’s nothing like the smell of a new book, the feel of pages not yet dog-eared, the sound of a book spine being cracked open for the first time.

Chapter One. A little girl, hundreds of rats, Central Park, a sunny day. Now there’s a combination to make me want to know what’s going to happen, where Mallory fits, and what she’s going to do. Excuse me while I go turn a page.

Life In A Small Town

/ Lisa / 8 Comments

This has nothing to do with writing other than it’s a story so hopefully you won’t mind.

Five days ago a resident of the tiny town I live near was out hiking with his dog. Some people from ‘down below’ showed up to target shoot in an area locals hike. The shooting terrified the dog, who bolted for the woods.

He’s been missing through four nights of freezing temperatures, with some snow still on the ground, and we live in an area with a lot of predators. You can imagine, if you are a dog owner, the sleepless nights these people have had. But being in a small town, everyone got involved. Locals decided it was a good time of year to go hiking. People not only hiked, they bushwhacked off trail. One group thought it was a great time for a full-moon hike in the woods. Many of us were calling out day and night. Where I live is mid-point between where the dog disappeared and town, so I spent a lot of time seeking. Of course signs were posted, animal shelters called, etc. But really, this is the story of community.

A few years ago my son’s dog ended up stranded on ‘the Wall’ which is a sheer granite wall famous for rock climbing. She was stuck on a boulder and my son couldn’t get to her and by the time he got home for help, it was dark and pouring rain. Again, locals jumped to the rescue and at five in the morning rock climbers and friends found her still waiting patiently for rescue on her rock. If you go to the ‘About’ tab you’ll see some photos of the area these dogs were lost in.

Two years ago we were startled one day when hiking to find an injured, terrified dog in the woods. She was too scared to come near us, and locals named her ‘Cedar’ since she was hiding in cedar trees. For a few weeks that hot summer, several of us hiked food and water to the dog twice a day (she was too canny for a live trap) until she grew brave enough to limp out one day and follow me down the logging road. She had been neglected before this adventure, and had a broken leg when she finally was rescued. She ended up in a good home, by the way.

So, back to the first dog. This morning, he found his way out of the woods. Very sorry for himself, very exhausted, beautiful fur dirty. And smelling a bit fishy, which none of us will complain about because it was probably the dead salmon in the creek that helped him survive. There was a happy ending here, with the dog managing to rescue himself. (By the way, I know some of you will be thinking about the dangers of dogs eating dead salmon. But in this case, I believe it was a matter of survival so yes, I’m sure he’ll be watched for parasites from the fish.)

But, what really warms my heart is that I think it’s unusual to find people who pull together like this to help not just animals, but each other. I’ve just mentioned animal stories, but there are many more where people here have jumped in to help others, too.

Sure there are disadvantages to little towns (gossip comes quickly to mind) but in the end, I think this is a community rare and fine.

Degree of Separation

/ Lisa / 4 Comments

I belong to a mystery book group on the Shelfari website. We just finished a discussion on Val McDermid’s book, The Mermaid’s Singing. One of the discussion points was around the difficulty of reading scenes of torture. My response has continued to nag me, so I’m going to broaden the response, here.

I read the book, and also watched the television show based on it. For the discussion group, I said that reading a torture scene troubled me a lot more than watching it on TV. I felt it was because watching something allows a greater degree of separation than reading.

Reading allows no separation between the reader and the story. We’re up close, physically and mentally. Our imagination allows us to be more deeply involved because we picture everything the way we need or want it to look. We have the tactile experience of holding that story in our hands, either in print or within an e-reader. The outside world is held at bay because we are within our own mind, even though we are reading the words of another.

With television, we have the physical separation, nothing to touch but the remote, and distance between the couch and the box. We are also not so intimately involved because there are others around us in the form of the actors. We are observing only, not engaged because our imagination isn’t needed. The scene, setting, and characters are chosen for us. And the emotions conjured by the scene are only those emotions the actor shares with us. In contrast to the emotions a character is given by a writer, that I, as a reader, can project on to and picture the way I want that emotion to look.

So, watching a torture scene in a thriller on TV may be disturbing, but reading it, for me anyway, was so unsettling I considered not finishing the book. I love Val McDermid’s writing, and a testament to her strong skill is her ability to raise very strong reactions and emotions in me. This is one example of her skill. She pulls me into her story and eliminates all barriers between me and the characters.

Television just isn’t the same.