Sunday, January 26, 2020

Realistic Characters



Last week my friend Mary shared a tale. She’s an avid reader and has enjoyed both of the Jefferson Chene novels. In conversations, Mary has told me a number of times that she found this character to be very realistic, to the point where she expects to bump into him someday. 

It turns out that Mary was with friends in Detroit for the weekend. They went to see the Red Wings hockey game and explore parts of the city. Along the way Mary insisted that they find the intersection that gave Chene his name. She even got her picture taken in front of the sign post. 



Although she didn’t find him, Mary is determined to track Chene down the next time she’s in town.

That’s one of the greatest compliments a writer can receive. To create a character that readers believe is real, one that they can relate to and connect with. The idea of searching the city to find him is priceless. That’s why it’s part of my ongoing effort to make a character an individual, not something out of a cookie cutter, with real traits that readers can recognize. 

So whether it’s a main character or a sidekick, you want to make them memorable.


It’s just as important to me that supporting characters are well designed. Here’s an example from “Fleeing Beauty” the third book in the Jamie Richmond series.

    In this scene, Jamie is with Ian, the teenager who is Malone’s unofficial little brother. He has been helping Jamie with the project of opening the crates in her late father’s studio and building a catalog. Ian has been smitten by Brittany a young girl who lives in Jamie’s neighborhood.



A few days later Ian was at the house with Brittany. I was just finishing up some work on the computer when I remembered the sketchpad. Taking it from the bookshelf, I walked out into the backyard. Brittany and Ian were at the picnic table with glasses of lemonade. Her dog, Lucy, was lounging in the shade. The kids were sitting close together. As I set the sketchpad on the table Ian’s eyes widened in disbelief.

      “We bumped into Krip the other night at the studio. He happened to see these and encouraged me to bring them home.”

      Ian started to reach for the pad, but Brittany was faster. She snagged it and flipped it open, His sketches of her were right on top. She carefully studied the first one, then moved it aside to look at the next. Soon all three were spread out on the table before her.

      “I can explain,” Ian said. His voice was soft and meek.

      Brittany raised a hand to silence him. She kept staring at the drawings.

      Ian turned his gaze to me with a pleading look on his face. I shrugged. There was nothing I could say to diffuse the situation. We waited. A minute later Brittany turned to Ian and placed her hands on his shoulders.

      “Did you draw these from pictures?”

      He slowly shook his head. “No.”

      “So this is how I look in your head?”

      “Don’t be mad. I know you’re even prettier in person, it’s just that Malone challenged me and I…”

      He never got another word out. Brittany raised her hands to his face and drew him to her. She planted a deep kiss on his lips that left both of them blushing. The fact that this happened less than three feet from me may have occurred to them only after they separated.

      “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Brittany said. “You think I’m pretty?”

      Ian shook his head. “No, I think you’re beautiful.  Pretty was all I could do from memory.”

      Was Malone coaching this kid in more than just baseball? The thought brought a smile to my face.

      “So you think you could do even a better job if I was right in front of you?”

      “Brittany, I don’t know, but I’d like to try.”

      She pushed the sketchpad toward him. “Well, let’s try.”

      Ian scrambled into the house for pencils. Brittany looked at me as if suddenly remembering that I’d been there all along. She glanced at the sketches spread out before her.

      “He really did these?”

      I nodded. “Yes. And Mr. Krippendore thinks he’s very talented. Krip is a painter. He wants to talk with Ian the next time we’re at the studio.”

      “Would it be okay if I went to the studio sometime?  Ian’s told me all about it, but I’d like to see it firsthand.”

      “Sure, we can go next week.”

      Ian returned with several pencils and a big gum eraser.  Brittany moved to the grass and pulled the dog with her. She knelt down and coaxed the dog to sit beside.

      “Okay, Rembrandt, let’s see what you’ve got.”

      Ian picked up the pad and started to draw. I took that as my cue to leave.

Buy Links:

Music this week is from The Rolling Stones.


Sunday, January 19, 2020

Telltale Signs


Last week I got a message from my friend Jerry. He was at a doctor’s appointment and his lovely wife, Jane, had accompanied him. While they were sitting in the waiting room, Jane pulled a book from her bag.  Curious, he leaned over to see what she was reading.  It was “Your Turn to Die”, the second book in the Jefferson Chene series. 




Jerry had a moment of concern that she was looking for ideas that might be used on him. I suggested he show that book to the doctor, just in case anything strange ever happened to him.

It was just another example of a sign. There are days where they pop up with frequency, if we’re paying attention.  As a writer, it’s part of my nature to notice things that could find their way into a story.  Sometimes it can lead to be a significant part of the book, having an impact on the character’s interactions. Since I don’t work with an outline, anything is possible.





It’s the middle of January and I’ve spent the weekend digging out from a heavy snowfall.  It’s a perfect time to share an excerpt from “Vanishing Act” which takes place in the same time period.
In this scene, Jamie and Linda find a way to address the winter blues.




“Grab your wallet and your workout gear,” Linda’s voice was way too excited for my serenity. “It’s time to hit the gym. We can sign up for classes tonight and start getting back in shape.”

It was the third day of January and I had been writing most of the day. Now I looked up and realized it was almost dark outside. Malone had cooked French toast for brunch with crispy bacon on the side. Before he left for work, he’d put together a big garden salad for dinner. There was also half of a roasted chicken from last night’s meal in the fridge. “What’s wrong with the shape I’m in?” I asked, standing up and checking my reflection in the window.

Linda laughed warmly in my ear. “Nothing’s wrong with you. But we could both use a little muscle toning. And if you want to keep Malone’s attention, you need to get some physical activity outside of the bedroom.”

“Does wrestling on the sofa with Malone count?”

“Only if you can sustain your heart rate for sixty minutes,” Linda said.

“But it’s so nice and warm and cozy here. I don’t want to go out in the cold.”

“Stop being a wimp. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

It was pointless to argue with her. I’d be the first one to admit how stubborn I was. But Linda can take stubbornness to a whole new level. When she made up her mind, there was nothing that could talk her out of it. And deep down, I knew she was right. I had gotten lazy and the workout would probably do me some good.

After switching off the computer, I dashed into the bedroom for my gear. All I needed was a quick change into yoga pants, an exercise tank top, sweat socks, and gym shoes. Then I pulled my hair into a ponytail and dug out a hoodie. I grabbed my down jacket, wallet, and keys just as Linda pulled up in the driveway. It took only a minute to lock the doors and run out to her car. She was bundled up against the chill as well, her curls pulled back with a wide headband. In the rack on the dash were two water bottles.

“Check out the schedule on the seat,” she said as she focused on driving. I dug the listing out from under my leg and looked at the classes she had highlighted.

“So you’ve narrowed it down to these three,” I said, “Yoga, kickboxing, and Latin dance. I don’t know what the last two are. Which one are we going to take?”

A devilish smile crossed her face. “We’re taking all three.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am definitely serious. The new gym offers a variety of classes and they have a lot of equipment available that we can use as well. There’s also a pool, in case you want to swim.”

“But three classes are too much. Are you planning on working out daily?”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Get real. Each class only meets once a week. But in order to really get the most out of the season, we can go more often. The best schedule for me is Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Saturday morning. There’s no way I want to work out Friday night and we’ll consider Sunday to be off limits. So this makes perfect sense.”

I had no response to that. Despite my protests, I knew she was right. It would be easier to get into the habit of working out now, to keep the figures we had, rather than waking up one day and discovering my clothes were too tight. I also had an ulterior motive. I wanted to maintain Malone’s interest. He seemed to like my body the way it was, so I had every intention of keeping it that way.


Buy Links:


Music this week comes from a favorite rock and roll tune by The Faces.


Sunday, January 5, 2020

Happy New Year


The New Year began a couple of days ago.  Due to some other commitments and preparations for teaching the new college semester, I’ve fallen behind in my blog. Blame it on the holidays, football, too much food and wine, or tackling too many issues simultaneously.  As Chuck Berry would say C’est la Vie. 

There are several projects I’ve been working on, including revising an old short story in preparations for submission, working on a new novella in a different genre and doing some research for the next Chene book.  It’s just a matter of which one is going to be finished first, so I can move on to what’s next.

I’ve also been considering creating a monthly newsletter.  Several authors I know currently have one and it may be a good method to share more information, insight about writing and bits regarding any new releases.  Once that plan has been finalized, I’ll post details on the blog.

So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.  I hope that everyone had a fantastic New Year’s Eve and that 2020 will bring us all success.  May our days be filled with laughter and love, shared with family and friends. And peace.




New Year’s always makes me think of “Vanishing Act” the second Jamie Richmond mystery.  Here’s an excerpt from that book.  In this scene, Jamie and Malone are going out with to welcome in the New Year with her best friend Linda and a surprise escort. 




The limo made our next stop and picked up her date. He looked splendid in his tuxedo, almost as good as Malone. They greeted each other warmly. I got a kiss on the cheek. His aftershave was subdued, but sexy. We chatted quietly until the limo arrived at Linda’s house. He stepped out and moved quickly to her door. She opened it just as he reached the porch. Malone had put the window down so we could see her reaction and hear their conversation.

    “Linda, you become more beautiful each time I see you.”

    There was a moment of hesitation in her eyes before her face broke into a wide smile. “Vince. You are the perfect date.”

    Linda flashed me a dazzling smile as she slid into the limousine. Vince sat beside her. I nudged Malone lightly when I saw Linda slip her gloved hand into Vince’s and lean back to enjoy the ride. We chatted about the holidays and what to expect for the evening while the sleek car cruised through traffic. I felt like a fairy tale princess as our carriage pulled up in front of the glamorous hotel. There was a flurry of activity as the valet raced to open our doors. I watched Vince and Linda move out, and then I took Malone’s hand and followed them.

    The lavish hotel was beautifully decorated for the holidays. The ballroom was enormous. We were escorted to a cozy table for four near the center of the room. From here we could see the dance floor and the orchestra. But before dancing, there would be dinner. The Westin has a history of featuring some of the most renowned chefs in the area. I had no doubt they would have spared no expense to put together a scrumptious dinner.

    And I was right.

    The courses flowed smoothly, from appetizers, to soup, salads, and entrees. There were two wine buckets beside our table. One held a bottle of chardonnay for Linda and Vince. The other had sparkling white grape juice for Malone and me. Since I found out he’s an alcoholic, I haven’t had a drink of alcohol either. Although Malone said it doesn’t bother him to be with other people who drink, I decided I could do without it, too. We all opted to hold back on dessert, needing some time to let our gourmet meal settle. At one point between courses, Linda crooked a finger at me. We went to powder our noses.

    “Jay Kay, you could have told me Vince was going to be my date,” she said with a laugh. “I probably wouldn’t have objected.”

    “Are you kidding? I wanted to surprise you. He looks quite dapper in his tuxedo if you ask me. I even made sure he knew you were wearing red, so his tie would match.”

    “How did you ever con Doc Schulte into this?” she asked, leaning toward the mirror to touch up her lipstick.

    “There was no con. It took me all of a minute to tell him what I had in mind. He agreed immediately. He even insisted on paying Malone for the tickets. And I know for a fact he’s an excellent dancer.”

    Vince Schulte has been my doctor for the longest time. While he may not be as physically fit as Malone, he was nearly as tall, which would work well with Linda and her high heels when they got on the dance floor. I’ve always thought of him as a Dutch uncle. About once a month since I graduated from high school, we’d go out to the theater or for dinner. His presence has always been a good stabilizer for me.

    “Look, I know Vince isn’t as young as Malone, but with only three days to find you an appropriate date, I thought he was a good choice.”

    We turned away from the mirror, heading out of the crowded ladies room. Linda looped her arm through mine and leaned close to my ear. “Don’t worry, Jay Kay, he’s not that old.”


Buy Links:

Music this week comes from Don Henley.