Gardening Can Be Murder

I was delighted to receive an advance copy of Marta McDowell's latest. Marta became a blog friend some years ago when I discovered her delightful prose. Marta's a professional gardener and an accomplished and best-selling author. I've talked about her books here before--wonderful mash-ups of literature and gardening lore like Emily Dickenson's Gardening Life, Unearthing the Secret Garden, The World of Laura Ingalls Wilder, and Beatrix Potter's Gardening Life.

Now Marta's turned her gaze to the role of gardens in mysteries. I was honored to have been one of the mystery writers she interviewed and profiled, though, as I told her, my days of serious gardening are past.

The book's not out till the fall but you can, of course, pre-order (always a blessing for the author.) It's a great read for anyone with an interest in gardening or mysteries, Though, as I said in the blurb that appears on Amazon, the book is dangerous--you may find your list of plants for your garden increasing exponentially; you may begin lusting after garden tours, and your To Be Read stack of mysteries may teeter dangerously after Marta introduces you to so many delights.

But wait, there's more! The book is illustrated by another blog/FB friend--the endlessly creative Yolanda Fundora. 

So many talented friends! I'll be talking about another on Monday.

 

What About the Cats?

In my post for the 27th, I revealed that I had promised a reader never to kill a dog in my books. In the comments, Victoria in California was quick to ask that I extend the same courtesy to cats.

It's a kind of unspoken rule among writers of cozies that you mustn't kill a cat -- or a dog or a child or anything cute and fluffy or any likable person.

But I don't write cozies -- I write psychological suspense. Sometimes bad things happen to nice people. . . or their animals. I'm not just trying to set up an interesting puzzle to be solved with some snappy repartee and zany hi jinks along the way --all done with a minimum of emotional involvement. No, I'm trying to make my characters real to my readers -- real people in real (well, except for the occasional touch of paranormal) situations where there is always some risk.
I'm trying to engage my readers' emotions . . . to move them to laughter . . . and sometimes to tears.

By making dogs, especially Elizabeth's dogs, immune to danger, I've lost a potential plot twist. I don't want to tie my hands any tighter by making more promises (next, the squirrel lobby will be pleading for an amnesty. And I like squirrels too; heck, I even like possums.)

I'm also very fond of cats. Ask Eddie and Miss Susie Hutchins. Even so, I've resisted, so far, giving Elizabeth one (in spite of Tammy of Fairlight Farm's encouragement that I do so.) Cats tend to take over mysteries, if given a chance.

In one of my books, there is a reference to a cat (or maybe two, I don't remember) that was killed in the past by one of the characters. Not, notice, a cat that we ever got to know. But I needed that reference to show the nature of a particular character. Remember, adult psychotic types often began by abusing animals when they were children.

I still can't see myself writing scenes of animal abuse. Indirect reference, though -- that could happen. Very indirect.

And, as always, I wonder why I (along with many readers) am more squeamish about the death of fictional animals (fluffy animals, it goes without saying) than the death of fictional people.