Writing Wednesday- Setting

We the readers contribute our imagination to that of the writer, willingly entering his world, participating in the lives of it's people and forming from the author's words and images our own mental pictures of people and places. The setting in any novel is therefore an important element of the whole book.

P.D. James

My novel Rubato takes place on an island similar to the place where I live. Island living has oddities which add to the plot line and give ample opportunity for beautiful descriptive language. 

"Stepping through the entrance her eyes took in the view from the waterfront home. The sea shimmered silver with the afternoon sun. Sections of the water looked like panes of glass, smooth and transparent. A single dark line of crayon scrawled a lazy trail across the expanse." 

Perhaps the oddest aspect of the island in Rubato is the need for ferry transportation, to and from. The detectives are bound by the ferry schedule, but then so is the murderer. 

"Stevie pushed back her irritation. This was the first suspicious death on an island she had investigated. The ferry system felt like a hindrance. Reggie Watts, her partner, told her to come quickly as the medical examiner wanted a homicide team to investigate. The examiner told Reggie that he found indications of foul play but did not want to make a definitive statement until the autopsy. She glanced at her phone and noted the time was almost 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Maybe it was early enough to avoid the worst ferry traffic. She had priority boarding which meant she was the first to drive off the ferry. The highway climbed up a steep hill from the water. She noticed a few people on bicycles alongside the road, laboring in what seemed slow motion. Bicycling had once interested her and she tried bicycling from West Seattle to the police precinct. It was an activity that quickly lost it’s novelty."

In detective fiction I love the descriptions of "home" for the detective. For Jacqueline Winspear's Maisie Dobbs it is the flat she buys for herself with the garden outside the living room, for Poirot it is his fancy apartment, and for Duncan and Gemma, in Deborah Crombie's series, it is the house they rent in London where Gemma has her grand piano. 

  "When they arrived in West Seattle Reggie took a few minutes to look at the house where Stevie lived. He tried not to gawk, but her house was several steps, no triple digit steps above the apartment where he lived. She must be living with someone or could it be she was living with her parents? That was not a negative idea but it would be a long time before he took her to his dingy digs. The house was older but well preserved and gave the impression of gracious living. It reminded Reggie of a Frank Lloyd Wright house called the Meyer May House. He had always liked looking at American architecture. Three stories of windows faced the street. The top floor window looked like a small attic room. The second floor had four leaded colored glass windows side by side, tucked under the eaves, which stood out from the house similar to bay windows. A covered porch area had boxes filled to the brim with greenery. 

    “This is a great house.”

An unseen aspect of the setting I picked are the many references to the lack of parking space. My daughter-in-law pointed that out and even suggested that it is one of my themes. 

"The address for Mr. Chavez was a half mile further north. The highway twisted and turned as it started going down towards the water.

  “There are never any places to park at these waterfront homes.” Reggie made a u-turn and carefully moved his car in front of what looked like a garage. “That trail there looks like the way to the house.”

   “The pathway seems steep. I wonder how fun it is to carry groceries up and down.”

    “It would get old fast.” Reggie answered." 

Lack of parking space is very much part of our modern dilemma. It is fun for me to see that it affects my story and adds credibility to the plot. As Jeffrey Deaver said,

Rule one: Write about settings you're familiar with. 

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My novel Rubato

A riveting murder mystery about a morally compromised woman’s resolve to protect her musical discovery. 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Questions

What does it mean to me to Umkehr, or return, to habits that bring me happiness?

My life has a pattern of change and retreat. I find a new way to navigate and set a course only to notice that some time later my ship is veering off the path. 

    1- The first question is should I go back to a path I cleared before? Was it effective? Where did it take me? What was the outcome?

   2- Do I desire the return with all my heart or am I just returning to the path because I don't know where else to go?

  3- I have used a habit tracker before where I mark a daily chart at the end of the day. Did that prove useful?

  4- Is it worth returning if there is a chance I'll go off track again anyway?

   These are the burning questions this month if April. I will ponder and seek for guidance. Of one thing I am sure, Umkehr is a human condition, a blessing, a hope, and a much needed experience to growth.

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My novel Rubato

A riveting murder mystery about a morally compromised woman’s resolve to protect her musical discovery. 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Release

 A great feeling of dread enveloped Judith’s first waking thoughts. What was she dreading? Did she make a serious mistake in removing the autograph manuscript from The Liszt Museum? Should she have presented it to the director that very day?

My head is very wrapped up in my novel. I am doing editing,  again. When I saw the prompt for this morning's writing I thought of my main character, Judith. She did not release. She held on tightly even when her conscience told her to let go. Wanting something is very dangerous when it clouds your moral code.

“Can I keep these a while? She did give them to me.”

Stevie looked with compassion at this woman who cared very much for her colleague and friend. She explained that the book and music autograph would now go into the custody of the police department and be instrumental in convicting ....................... of murder. 

“We can’t keep them, even overnight. I learned that lesson.” Stevie said very seriously, trying to comfort herself as much as Linda. “The autographs have an indefinite future, as well as Judith’s book. We can monitor their safety but the prosecutor will make decisions about when they will be released and who will receive them.”

  “Can I show my son the pictures?”

  “I won’t tell. How is Jon?” Stevie remembered the young man from the first day. 

 “He was a little freaked out. We talk about it often. It still all seems a little unbelievable.” Linda handed Stevie the box.

 “Are you disappointed in Judith?” Stevie asked.

    “Disappointed? In her decisions? Maybe, but I learned so much from her about music. I am more resolved to be an inspired musician because of Judith.”

   Can't give everything away, but you can read the whole book online for a limited time for free.

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On an island in the Pacific Northwest a piano teacher is found dead and a lost autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt is discovered. Who wanted that document enough to kill? 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Writing Wednesday- Themes

You can't tell any kind of a story without having some kind of a theme, something to say between the lines.

Robert Wise

By choosing the title Rubato for my book I knew the theme of robbery would reoccur. Rubato comes from the Latin meaning 'to rob'. It is a musical tempo word and in the words of my character Stevie Dangerfield, “Rubato is a musical term which means temporarily leaving a strict tempo to allow an expressive quickening or slowing, usually without altering the overall pace." Robbing a fraction of a beat in a measure of music isn't the only robbery that happens in my story. A more subtle example of this theme is the attempted robbery at Detective Dangerfield's home. Unfortunately her mother comes home in the middle of the crime. She becomes a traumatized witness.

Stevie found Angelika waiting in the hall with a piece of paper in her hand, her head bowed down. Stevie embraced her and felt the shudder in her mother’s body as tears erupted.

    “I didn’t remember enough to make a likeness.” She gave Stevie a sketch of a dark haired man who looked very tall. “Is he likely to return?”

  Stevie took the picture and checked to see if he looked familiar. No one came to mind.

   “I don’t think……..that he will come back since he didn’t find what he was looking for. Thank you, Mom. I know this ordeal has worn you out. Why don’t we go home. It’s Friday and the detectives are all hoping they don’t have to work tomorrow.”

   Reggie came down the hall and Stevie showed him the sketch. He nodded and she knew that he understood Angelika’s problem. Trauma robs the clarity of memories.

The autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt may also be a stolen  object. The murder of Judith revolves around this piece of music. But, where did it come from originally? Was it stolen or found innocently and not revealed? 

To her amazement and delight she found the autograph manuscripts of both Hungarian Rhapsodies. An intense inward struggle ensued. She described how she knew she should immediately report her findings, but the joy of seeing Liszt’s hand written music overcame her rational thinking. Her actions left the rigid tempo of law and she acted from her feelings instead of her head. She robbed justice, just like a pianist robs a measure of its strict beat by holding on to certain notes intentionally longer than prescribed. 

Having an overarching theme gives structure to the plot. I hope it gives the reader a thread to tie the story together.

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On an island in the Pacific Northwest a piano teacher is found dead and a lost autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt is discovered. Who wanted that document enough to kill? 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Routine

The secret of all victory lies in the organization of the non-obvious.

Marcus Aurelius

Dear Writer Friends,

She time ago, longer than I thought, I joined FMF to take an online writing class from Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. We read their book On Being A Writer together. I still read the blogs of those of you who took the class. You are still writing which means you have a routine in your life that includes the written word. If there was one thing that I have treasured up in my study it was to arrange my life so I can write a little bit every day. Now that is obvious.

What wasn't so obvious was the importance of place. I write in two places; on the couch, with my computer on my lap or at the kitchen table. I installed a lamp that casts a soft glow on the space, which I really love. The space must call out to you. Come, come tell your story (w)right here. My routine for starting "the write" is to make some tea, stash a small snack near by, and open my computer to the Scriverner App. The app alone makes me feel like a professional. Thank you Kate Motaung for the suggestion.
   

"These rituals create space and rhythm"

On Being A Writer

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A piano teacher is found dead and a lost autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt is discovered. Who wanted that document enough to kill? 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Writing Wednesday- Physical Ways That Ground A Scene

Your character communicates who she is through her physical actions.

I just finished a writing class and one of the critiques I received many times was to "show not tell". That seems obvious but not easy. Another level of observation starts when I imagine how my characters are moving or how they are physically responding. In Rubato, my mystery novel, I have a pragmatic, logical thinking male homicide detective who is more smart than macho. He is working with a right brained, feeling partner who once aspired to be a concert pianist. They have a case where her knowledge of the music world gives her an upper hand. Below is a scene where they are together eating dinner after a long day. Do I have enough description of their actions to show you more of who they are?

           Stevie continued through to the kitchen and he heard her open a fridge. He walked through the living room and beyond into what was surely a music room. Open french doors with gauzy curtains separated the two spaces. He was drawn to the piano and gently touched the black and white keys. There was a grandeur to the shiny black instrument. He moved his hands across the smooth surface. The black body seemed to be longer than his car.

      “This is a big piano.” he said, hearing Stevie come in.

       “It is my mother’s six foot concert grand.” She joined Reggie on the piano bench. He could smell her light citrus perfume. 

       “What is a trouble clef?” he asked.

       “You mean the coat rack?” Stevie laughed. “It isn’t trouble but treble and it's a musical sign that indicates higher notes on the staff. My mother had the large wooden one made to amuse her piano students.”

       A blue music booklet entitled, Consolations by Franz Liszt, lay open to view on the stand in front of them. 

       Reggie reached up and touched the book."Have you been playing his music?”

       “I have. These pieces called Consolations have been rumbling around my head throughout the last few days.”

       “Does this Liszt guy offer consolation to the nasty work of murder?”

       “Surprisingly, he does.” Stevie stood and took his arm firmly, nudging Reggie to his feet. “Come on into the kitchen. I’m reheating some lasagna from Sunday.” 

        The kitchen had bright yellow walls and frilly patterned curtains. A round kitchen table was nestled into the bay window which looked out to the garden. Reggie thought that his mother would have loved a kitchen just like this. The garden outside was barely discernible as dusk fell. 

       “I can’t get used to the fact that it’s dark at 5:00 o'clock. It feels like the middle of the night.” Reggie said. 

       Stevie handed him two placemats and two white china plates. 

     “Can you grab two glasses out of the cupboard there?” With her head she motioned to the cupboard by the sink. She balanced a steaming platter of noodles with sauce and cheese in her hands. 

       He carefully brought the glasses to the table and seated himself across from Stevie.

      “You look hungry. Let me dish you up a big plate.”

      “Looks really good. Thank you.” He suddenly felt a little self-conscious eating in front of his work partner. Reggie picked up his fork and without further hesitation commenced devouring the food. It was delicious and it’s warmth made him relax. 

     “You have a tiny splat of tomato sauce on your lip.” She picked up her napkin but Reggie saw her stop herself from bringing the napkin to his face.

       “I’ve got it.” he said,as he brushed the napkin across his mouth. 

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A piano teacher is found dead and a lost autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt is discovered. Who wanted that document enough to kill? 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.

Umkehr and Starting Fresh Everyday

"Getting a fresh start doesn't mean starting over--it could mean simply seeing the current project with new eyes, trying something different, or coming at the story from a different angle."

Shawn Smucker, author of The Day The Angels Fell

When doing something everyday there is a risk that the doing will become stale. If you are exercising the routine may become boring, if you are eating differently, the foods you made with gusto in week one may be suddenly too blah. Writing everyday certainly has that risk. I come to my book everyday knowing my weaknesses in the story and trying to look at them with new perspective. 

The quote above is by a writer who sends an e-mail out every weekday with motivating words from his own writing desk. He is currently writing a novel and his e-mails demonstrate the everyday struggle. I can relate to all his words. I find the promise of seeing anew very captivating. I can't control it, but I will be working on a paragraph which is not right and an idea will come which brings a new energy to my vision. Suddenly the words almost write themselves. I love that moment! 

I see on my chart that Thursdays are not working as writing days. That's fine. My day begins when I leave the house at 6 am and when I'm home from work it just doesn't happen. Seventeen out of twenty is just peachy and I feel satisfied. What are you trying to do everyday? Is it working? Could you look at it from a new perspective? 

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A piano teacher is found dead and a lost autograph manuscript of Franz Liszt is discovered. Who wanted that document enough to kill? 

Click here to read the book for free for a limited time.