November 2022

Monday, Nov. 21

The deadline for the 2023 Minotaur Books / Malice Domestic Best First Traditional Mystery Novel Competion is November 30. I have 1cm more pages to get through until I’m DONE inputting my edits for When the Osprey Cries, and then it will be ready to submit.

I am eager to get this finished so I can go back to writing my new story, which has the working title of What the Eagle Sees.

I sent the first draft chapter to my WIP-book club last week, and their feedback has been positive. They’re excited to work through another murder together.

What is my WIP-book club? It started as a Patreon community of subscribers, but after a year or so I decided to eliminate the monthly payments and now we are a private group of 14 people on Facebook. I share excerpts as I write them, ask questions to help me finesse the plot, and update the members on my progress. They are a wonderful group of cheerleaders, editors & mystery readers. 

Tuesday, Nov. 22

I kept at it until 11pm last night and finished updating my Word file with all my edits and revisions. DONE!! If it weren’t so late I would have celebrated with sparkly wine and a cigar … This morning (after two cups of orange pekoe) I reviewed my list of changes and submitted When the Osprey Cries (aka book #2) to the 2023 Minotaur Books / Malice Domestic Best First Traditional Mystery Novel Competion.

Two of my Canadian mystery writer heroes, Louise Penny and Alan Bradley, had their big breaks via writing contests, so submitting my manuscripts to “unpublished crime novel” contests has always been part of my strategy.

There’s one more contest on my list this month: the 2023 Minotaur Books / Mystery Writers of America First Crime Novel Competition, with a deadline of Dec. 16. How interesting that the same publisher is part of both of these almost identical competitions …

I spent most of today getting back into the headspace for my third book, reviewing the timeline and making notes on my plot cards. I have learned MANY lessons after completing two novels, one of which is that the more planning and thinking I do at the start, the fewer issues and plot gaps I’ll face when writing (or, worse, when revising).

Wednesday, Nov. 23

I don’t like my 2nd chapter. It is forced and boring. I’ve faced this challenge before and it’s fixable. I’ll review my “how to craft a great scene” notes tomorrow, and often it helps to “talk” through the issues by writing them out, ideally with a flowy ink pen and an unlined, white-paged notebook … 

This is one of those times when I’m grateful for my age, for all the years I’ve prepared for this writing career: my creative writing degree, the writing guides I’ve studied, the webinars and workshops. I have a very large toolbox to open up.

Today after school my kiddo and I returned to Kinsmen Beach (our normal hangout in the winter months). This is where my opening chapters take place, on frozen Lake Windermere on the south end of Invermere, BC. I imagine the scenes, pace out distances and pay attention to the sensory details.

One of my favourite parts of writing mysteries is being in a gorgeous place like this, and then paying attention to all the scary, suspenseful aspects. There’s a wholesome family playing hockey … and underneath their feet is frigid ice water that would kill them with hypothermia. How fun!  

Thursday, Nov. 24

During a BC Federation of Writers’ webinar on social media today I remembered that NeWest Press had invited me to submit my second manuscript to them, back in 2021. So I did that this afternoon.

I met my friend A.J. Devlin at the awards gala for the 2019 Crime Writers of Canada awards in Toronto, where he took home the prize for best first crime novel. His wife (aka A.J.’s lucky charm) allowed me to hug her for good luck. A.J. and I became long-distance buddies, he read my first book, and ever since he’s tried to matchmake me with his awesome publisher, NeWest Press.

I love that they love Western Canadian writers.

I think they need a female mystery series writer who can produce a novel a year, and I should be that writer. So: all fingers are crossed that they agree.

Nov. 25 & 26

When I first read Stephen King’s On Writing, I was baffled by this line:

“Life isn’t a support-system for art. It’s the other way around.”

I was twenty-something, and the idea of living a writing life centred around writing was too appealing.

Now in my forties I better understand this idea of balancing life and writing: I love this quote from Julian Barne’s Flaubert’s Parrot (which I discovered via Gail Bowen’s Sleuth):

“The writer must wade into life as into the sea, but only up to the navel. … It isn’t the drunkard who writes the drinking song; on the other hand, it isn’t the teetotaler either.”

 I remind myself of this critical balance every time I’m pulled from my writing by a Real Life to-do or opportunity. This weekend it was my son’s first judo tournament, which required 9 hours of driving, a hotel stay in Lethbridge, and spending my Saturday cheering on kids from the bleachers.

It’s not just the physical distance from my writing desk that’s the challenge: it’s the emotional distraction too. When my kiddo was the only one not to receive a medal due to math logistics, and he was super sad and embarrassed, I waded into that sea of life up to my eyebrows to empathize with him mentally and emotionally, and help us both through the feelings.

It’s hard to focus on a chapter rewrite when your kid is sad.

BUT: as per Barnes, King and Bowen, now I know how sports tournaments sometimes work, I’ve seen the tears and brave 9-year-old faces of the competitors, and someday that new knowledge and understanding will manifest in a scene.

Sunday, Nov. 27

The problem of chapter 2 has been percolating in my brain for a few days and I woke up this morning with a possible solution.

I used the same scene planning template for every scene/chapter in When the Osprey Cries, but have since read/learned other aspects of scene writing that aren’t part of the template. So this morning I created a new template (pictured) that better reflects where I am as a writer with this book.

It’s a small change, but I think it will help me re-focus on what I want chapter 2 to accomplish.

First: I need to wash all these dishes.

Monday, Nov. 28

Writing mysteries has made me aware of how little I know about RCMP procedures and Canadian law.

There is an annual event in the USA where crime writers can learn about police procedures. If only we had such a resource for Canadian writers!

I’d almost completed my first draft of One for the Raven when I realized I could ask my local RCMP detachment for help. A very kind constable answered my detailed questions for an hour (presumably after deciding I wasn’t planning a real crime spree).

For When the Osprey Cries, I asked an old friend’s partner for help. We spoke for a long time on the phone, and then he was available for questions by text as they came up during the writing.

The RCMP have now arrived at the scene in book #3, and I have to write this chapter. Despite my pages of notes & everything I’ve learned since book #1, these are my least favourite scenes to write.

Tuesday, Nov. 29

One of my favourite writing resources is The Emotion Thesaurus, by Angela Ackerman & Becca Puglisi.

If a scene feels flat (*cough* my 2nd chapter of this third book), I figure out the main emotions of my characters and then use the thesaurus to dive into the mental states, body language and key words for those emotions.

This emotion research often leads me to new insights: for example, my lonely protagonist probably finds validation and comfort in her social media followers’ likes and positive comments. The online persona she’s created might be quite different from how she is in real life: friendlier, perkier, more relateable. 

I’d already planned a plot twist that will arise from this discrepancy, but now I understand WHY that twist makes so much sense.

Wednesday, Nov. 30

Virginia Woolf argued that a writer requires “a room of one’s own” to express her creativity: a literal and figurative space for writing and other art forms.

At age 42 I have the physical space to write: there’s my computer set up at the counter, the kitchen table, multiple drawers and shelves for filing, and a massive bulletin board in the hallway.

But it’s still a daily internal struggle to allow myself the figurative space, to give myself permission to write instead of doing paid work or chores.

And, strangely, now that I have the physical space to work in, I’m often more productive when I leave it, without the distraction of dishes or laundry.

I LOVE writing in cafes. In 2001, I filled multiple Hilroy notebooks in a Starbucks on Sparks Street in Ottawa. That summer is still one of my “happy place” memories.

The second half of One for the Raven was written in Kootenay Coffee Works here in Invermere, where I’d park myself for hours while my son was at preschool.

During the quiet season in our tourist town I can camp out at a table at my boyfriend’s pub, settling in before it even opens. I’ve spent two days writing here this week and have conquered chapter 2. Boom.

There’s something about choosing to go somewhere to write, packing up my notes and pens, that validates the writing. By occupying a public table and spreading out my notes, I create a walled-in space where I am a writer: where writing can happen.

Book #3 update: It’s the end of November and I’ve written 4,127 words / 2.5 chapters.