I Am Graduating Still

 

It’s the season of Dads and grads. My phone has blown up recently with pictures of young people in caps and gowns, sent by their proud parents. On a rainy weekday early this month I found myself in an auditorium watching a member of our family receive her hood for a PhD she’d been working on since the pandemic.

It had been a long time since I’d attended such a ceremony, so I was surprised to find myself become emotional. That’s something you’d expect to do at weddings and funerals. I forgot that education—the yearning to strive, learn, get better—is a powerful trigger for me.

In this case, I was struck with a memory from my past.

Freshman year of journalism school. I’m sitting in the seminar portion of my larger COM107 class—the first course every journalism student takes—when the professor makes a bold statement.

He says that journalism as we know it, as we’ve practiced it since the turn of the century, is on the ropes. Thought leaders now say that a person who enters the profession can expect to make seven significant career pivots in their lifetime.

We were kids. We knew nothing. His statement went right over our heads.

Then he broke it down.

I am not saying that you will have seven jobs in your lifetime. Doing the same thing seven times in a row. No.

Oh—I thought. That’s exactly what my baby brain thought you meant.

In the course of your lifetime, he went on, you will shift to radically different careers. Maybe you start out as a reporter for a newspaper, but eventually you will write press releases for an electric company, you will run marketing for a huge bookstore chain like Barnes & Noble, you will start your own public relations firm, and by the time you retire you’ll be running the fundraising arm for your local theatre company. That’s what I mean.

This happened in a classroom in the early 1980s, which meant that even Prof. Babcock—who was then and remained for decades after, a towering figure in communications research—could not foresee the impact the Internet would have on journalism. Newspapers began their death spirals when Craigslist arrived in 1995. Suddenly people had a free or free-ish place to take their classified ads, which newspapers had monopolized and charged through the nose for since the dawn of print. The loss of that revenue, and the revenue from display ads, cost newspapers dearly.

Back in 2026, as I waited for the graduation ceremony to start, I ticked off the jobs I’d had. I’d gone to school for magazine journalism. I knew I couldn’t hack daily journalism. I was a features writer at heart. I would write for the glossies, thought I.

If you squint at my resume, you would see a career that probably defied Professor Babcock’s thesis.

I wrote for children’s magazines for my first two jobs, then I jumped to a dot-com (undreamt-of in Babcock’s philosophy), then went freelance and wrote for a string of magazines before segueing to books and ghostwriting. Aside from the blip represented by that website, my career did not at all conform to a seven-career shift.

At heart I am still a writer and editor.

Babcock’s prediction came true only in the new skills I was forced to master. By the time I had books to promote and clients to woo, the practice of typing up a resume and dropping it off at the neighborhood printer to be—ha!—expensively typeset and run off on fancy paper was laughable.

The early 2000s I had to learn how to design a website. By 2009, when my wife and I published a book on the signers of the Declaration of Independence, we were designing t-shirts. (One for every signer! Collect all 56! Geez, was that a crazy idea).

Social media meant learning how to shoot photos, add text to them, and send them out into the world, often with appended music.

You know—to do the job most publishers had stopped doing.

When publishers ran a quick 'n' dirty ebook sale of one of our titles, we dropped everything and designed a promo ad to distribute on social media, the way an advertising director might do.

We learned how to pitch our books to bookstores and non-stores, landing new accounts the way sales reps would.

We learned to approach radio stations and book reviewers, the way publicists would.

Today, if you look at the website of the school I attended, they announce with some puffery that they are preparing students for careers in digital journalism. They have stopped the charade that they are teaching for a one-track career. Graduates, they say, must be ready to tell stories across multiple platforms.

Every year, when I do our taxes, I am amazed by the sheer number of software programs our household subscribes to. And I’m sure you, my fellow 21st Century scribes, are in a somewhat similar situation. Some more than others, no doubt.

It is only when I step back and recall that I entered my freshman dorm toting an electric typewriter…

It is only when I recall that the journalism school taught us to set type by hand, just to give us a feel for the origins of that quaintly ancient technology…

It is only when I recall that the journalism school later ditched that very same type lab—sold off all those wooden trays of backwards lead letters to the art school across the street, retired the elderly pressman who ran the hand-cranked press…and filled the lab space with gleaming IBM personal computers in my senior year…

It is only then that I can appreciate the shift in time.

This came to me in a flash, all at the start of that graduate school ceremony, and I could not shake the grateful thought that I am graduating still.

A while back, I decided to build an online store for our books and stories. Many writers have done this, and it felt like a good, long-term goal. If nothing else, it would be a place to refer all those people who ask, “What’s the best place to buy your books?” (They say this as if they haven’t wandered into a bookstore in ages, which—sigh—they probably haven’t.)

It took me two years, but the store is finally live. It took that long because I needed to learn or relearn a lot of new skills. Guess what? (The Declaration Signer t-shirts are back!) Next up: I am teaching myself to record my short stories. I have bolted the microphone to the dining room table.

Why would anyone want to stop learning?

A person my wife interviewed for her first narrative nonfiction book arrived in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, in the 1940s to work as a lab chemist on the Manhattan Project. Few employees in the Secret City knew what they were working on, but Virginia, a trained scientist, surmised the truth. How could she not?

I miss Virginia. I enjoyed getting to know her during the writing of that book. She was kind enough to let us live at her home while Denise conducted her research so we didn’t have to keep shelling out for hotels.

By then Virginia was in her late eighties, walked with two canes, was partially blind, and wore two hearing aids. Each morning she headed to her office to wake her Mac. She had her screen zoomed to the highest setting so she could read the news in 120-point type. She prized her e-reader because the technology allowed her to do the same with books.

On one of those visits, she told us that she had enrolled in an exciting new class for the coming semester at the senior center. The instructor was a young physicist from the national lab.

“What’s the course?” we asked.

“The history of transuranic elements,” she replied.

God willing, I will be like her someday: Approaching my ninth decade and still learning. The only way to be, as far as I am concerned.

* * * 

See you in three weeks!

Joe

josephdagnese.com

It's Still a Mystery

At a signing in a bookstore years ago, a lady (a.k.a. potential buyer) stopped at my table, picked up one of my books, pointed to the word STORIES on the cover, and asked me, "How many?"

"Forty," I said.

"Are all of them mysteries?"

"Well – they're all crime stories."

Which, thank goodness, turned out to be what she considered a satisfactory answer. But I realized later that I could have just said– and been truthful in saying– "Yes, they're all mysteries." Why? According to most of the editors I know, certainly those of the bigger mystery magazines and the best-of-the-year mystery anthologies, any story that contains a crime can be labeled a mystery. Which makes sense. After all, both Columbo and Poker Face are considered mystery series even though not a single episode involves a whodunit, and crime novels like The Talented Mr. Ripley, Mr. Mercedes, Get Shorty, A Simple Plan, The Day of the Jackal, etc., are always found in the "mystery" section of the bookstore even though they're not traditional mysteries. I re-read Elmore Leonard's Out of Sight recently, which reminded me that Leonard, who was named Grand Master by Mystery Writers of America, once said – and I'm paraphrasing – that he had never in his life written anything in which the identity of the villain was concealed until the end.

My point is, we who write crime stories, whether they involve a murder or not and whether they're whodunits or not (most of mine are howcatchems or howtheygotawaywithits) can safely call ourselves mystery writers.

Now, having said that … the mystery genre has a number of subgenres:

Cozy

These stories usually feature a protagonist who has no professional experience but is drawn into the plot by chance. The setting is limited – a bakery, an antique store, a coffeeshop, a small town, etc. – and there's no graphic violence, sex, strong language, or controversial topics. The murder, robbery, or whatever crime it is, takes place off-screen, the title is punny and/or catchy, and the tales are often "series" stories or novels featuring recurring characters. I've had almost 150 of those lighthearted mysteries (mine are probably more "amateur sleuth" than "cozy") published in Woman's World magazine.

Example (novel): The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie

Hard-boiled

These gritty stores feature tough but good-hearted detectives with a strong personal code of honor and justice, who happily bend the rules and reject authority while fighting to do the right thing in a corrupt system. This subgenre is sometimes combined with the noir or PI subgenres and – unlike cozies – usually include plenty of violence, sex, and profanity.

Example: LA Confidential by James Ellroy

Police Procedurals

The protagonists here are official law enforcement folks who investigate a case and use technology, legal procedures, and forensic evidence to track down criminals. These stories are sometimes whodunits and – like hard-boiled stories – feature violence, drugs, street language, etc. They focus more on the investigation than on the criminal, and creating them usually requires a familiarity with, or a great deal of research into, the daily workings of a police department. A possible hint, here: In the procedural short stories I've written, I've attempted to hide my ignorance by setting them in fictional cities, since fictional cities have fictional police departments whose rules might differ a bit from the real world.

Example: The Black Echo by Michael Connelly

Locked-room Mysteries

These feature "impossible" crimes committed in an enclosed space with no obvious solution. Sometimes they're murder mysteries, but they might also be robberies in which there's apparently no way the robber could accomplish the theft. The fun for the reader is in the puzzle, in trying to figure it all out before the big "reveal" at the end.

Example: The Three Coffins/The Hollow Man by John Dickson Carr

Private Eye

The protagonist here is a professional private investigator, not a police detective, though he or she is often an ex-cop or ex-military. This subgenre frequently overlaps with noir and hard-boiled. I've written a few of these, beginning in 2020, in response to a submission call by Michael Bracken for a special PI issue of Black Cat Mystery Magazine. I was fortunate (and amazed) to later have that story win the 2021 Shamus Award (thanks, Michael!), and it introduced me to a new and fun kind of mystery writing. Not that it matters, but my favorite PI writer is probably the late Robert B. Parker, author of the Spenser novels.

Example: The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett

Noir

Noir stories and novels have protagonists who are usually deeply flawed in some way, and easily manipulated. I've heard it said that a noir story just means a dumb guy's smart girlfriend talks him into committing a crime, and that's probably a pretty good description. I've said myself that it's any crime story that includes a dark room crisscrossed with the shadows of Venetian blinds. (If you've seen those movies, you know what I mean.) I also like neo-noir, as in the movie Body Heat.

Example: Double Indemnity by James M. Cain

Caper

Caper stories are usually told from the POV of the crooks, and describe the planning and execution of a crime, like a kidnapping or a bank heist. I've written lots of these, and I love 'em. Sometimes the bad guys win, sometimes the good guys, and little attention is given to the solution to the crime. My story that was included in the recent SMFS anthology of Derringer-winners was sort of a humorous caper story, and I can tell you they're great fun to write.

Example: The Hot Rock by Donald Westlake

Traditional

Traditional mysteries feature a crime committed in a closed setting by an unknown antagonist, several possible suspects, and a detective (either police or private) who figures out and reveals the identity of the villain. I've heard these described as fair-play mysteries because enough clues are provided for the reader to try to identify the villain before the protagonist does.

Example: The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle

Mystery/Thriller

I've seen this listed as a subgenre but I think it's also sort of a catch-all to describe suspenseful mysteries that don't fit easily into other categories. They're crime stories with more action and tension and anticipation than some mysteries offer, and they also have faster-moving plots with lots of twists and reversals. In fact, this kind of story is mostly what I write: tales of ordinary folks, not necessarily cops or PIs, who wind up in dire situations and have to find/fight/shoot their way out.

Example: Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn

Paranormal

Paranormal mysteries involve otherworldly or supernatural elements. My favorites of these – as a lifetime Twilight Zone fan I have written many of these stories – often feature some kind of time travel or fantasy/telepathy/magic element. An interesting point: If a crime is involved, there are usually a few mystery magazines and mystery anthologies around that might be receptive to them, and – like humor or caper stories – they're truly fun to write.

Example: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Historical

Historical mysteries are generally set at least fifty years in the past. That of course includes the fascinating (to me) years of gangsters, prohibition, organized crime, etc., in the mid-20th Century, an era which has served as the backdrop for many of my stories. (It also includes the Old West – I've written a lot of Westerns, some of them featuring a San Francisco-based private detective – but for some reason I don't think most editors consider Westerns to be historical fiction; the Western is a genre of its own.) One thing I've heard about historical fiction that I consider interesting: Historical mysteries must be written by authors who are not contemporaries of the time in which the stories are set. In other words, the Sherlock Homes stories are not considered to be historical fiction because they're set during the time in which they were written.

Example: The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

As mentioned earlier, there can be considerable overlap between these subgenres: the dividing lines get blurry pretty fast. Also, there are more subgenres that I didn't list because they're self-explanatory: courtroom, mystery/romance, humorous, whodunits, solve-it-yourself mysteries, etc.

My questions for you are:

If you're a mystery/crime writer, what kinds of subgenres do you write? Which give you the greatest pleasure to write? – have you specialized in those? Which do you like most when it comes to your reading? Have you intentionally mixed any of these subgenres? Can you think of others I've missed? Which do you think are the easiest to write, and the easiest to sell to an editor/publisher?

One final hint. If you've written a mainstream story that you can't seem to sell, insert a crime someplace within it and send it to one of the remaining mystery magazines, or a crime anthology. I've done that, and it works. Well, sometimes it works.   

Sherlock Holmes Actors

Recently I have been thinking about immortality, not the human and aspirational kind, typified by one of our billionaires who apparently wants to sleep his way to eternity, but the curious immortality of certain literary creations. What mysterious secret ingredients has kept folks like Oedipus and Antigone, David and his rival Goliath, Medea, and Orpheus, and the notables of the Hindu epics evergreen and ever present?

New Young Holmes series

Sure, a strong connection to an historic religion is a big help, but not essential, considering the continuing presence of our genre's Sherlock Holmes. Not content with retelling his adventures in every medium except dance and opera, we have retired him, married him, gifted him with a daughter and saddled him with multiple bee hives.

He's been treated for addiction – by Sigmund Freud, no less; brought into the 21st century with Sherlock, and just recently restored to callow youth by Young Sherlock, wherein he works as domestic help in Oxford, crashes parties with a louche undergrad named Moriarty, and gets acquainted with a Chinese princess who is a master of both armed and unarmed combat.

Is anything new possible? Well, yes. In The Final Problem, Arturo Perez-Reverte has come up with an angle that I confess I exploited nearly a decade ago: a mystery employing not the great man himself, but one of his impersonating actors. Together, The Final Problem and my own Holmes Impersonator stories provide two more ways to exploit the great detective.

I did not have ambitions to enlarge Sherlock's already expansive realm when I ventured into Holmes territory. I had hopes of breaking into a lucrative weekly supermarket tabloid, and I had come up with what I thought was a clever plot. In the service of this idea, I needed a detective and for reasons unknown, the Holmes Impersonator arrived.

A journeyman actor, employed by regional theaters and the dinner circuit with occasional voice- over or advertising work, my detective makes some extra cash with a regular gig at The Sherlock Holmes Museum, a small private Connecticut outfit with a slim budget and a constant need for donors. I thought he was ideal; the tabloid editors thought differently.

But the Impersonator was resilient. He found a home at Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine where he proved to be a clever guy, a useful narrator for six outings, and surprisingly observant. His flaw is his appearance. As child visitors to The Sherlock Holmes Museum invariably observe, he doesn't look like Sherlock. Indeed, tapped for a PBS revival of Sherlock Holmes, the famous play that made star William Gillette rich enough to build Connecticut's one and only castle, he gets cast as Watson.

The Profile

No such troubles for Perez- Reverte's Basil Osmond, who has the hawk nose and elegant physique of the famous Sidney Paget illustrations. Basil has instant credibility, because he not only looks the part but has played it in over a dozen immensely popular films.

Clearly based on Basil Rathbone, the famous 20th century Sherlock, Perez- Reverte's detective comes with an encyclopedic knowledge of Conan Doyle stories, an almost instant recall of Holmes' famous lines, and the savoir faire of having temporarily been rich and famous and on intimate terms with both London's West End and Hollywood royalty.

Such a character clearly deserves a mystery, and The Final Problem soon sets one for him. Basil has been sailing with a producer who may cast him in an upcoming television series. A storm strands them on a Greek island, one conveniently equipped with a luxury hotel inhabited by other temporarily stranded visitors.

Long time mystery fans will recognize that this setup is far from the atmospheric fogs of Baker Street. We are, in fact, in Agatha Christie territory with nine visitors, the hotel proprietor and three in staff, and very soon we have a corpse, a lot of questions, and no way to get help from the police.

Granted the authority to conduct an investigation, Basil, at first reluctantly and then with considerable flair and enthusiasm, sets to work, assisted by a fawning Spanish mystery writer and fellow Holmes buff.

The plotting, more clever than plausible, gives Basil scope, even if the somewhat awkward epilogue makes clear why Agatha Christie favored dramatic revelations before the assembled suspects.

So, here are our two alternative performers. The low- budget Holmes Impersonator, modest but effective in the compass of short fiction and a small locale, and a famous Sherlock in a luxury setting and the Christie- type plot suitable for a full length novel. Are there room for more such characters? I suspect so.

And what of the secret ingredient, the source of such characters' longevity? I am still far from a solution, but part must be the presence of what the great Scottish philosopher David Hume declared essential to knowledge: a clear and distinct idea.

Sherlock provides that in spades: the pithy phrases, the investigative dictums, and, of course, the instantly identifiable costume. Put a dog or a cat in a deer stalker and an Ulster, hand them a meerschaum pipe and either is instantly recognizable as a detective of this very special type. With a brand like this, no wonder other writers are tempted to enlist him in their literary ventures.

Location, Location, and... What Was It?

 I was looking at A Textbook Case this week, the SleuthSayers page I created as a sort of informal manual on writing fiction. It consists of about sixty essays I wrote here and at other blog sites.  

I noticed that I had only one piece about settings, and  that one was about imaginary places.  This didn't really surprise me because I am not a big fan of descriptions of setting.  Elmore Leonard famously advised us to leave out the parts people don't read, and that is how I tend to feel about those descriptions.  But I admit they have their place - sometimes.

You can find some excellent essays on setting here at the SleuthSayers website.  In one of them I found this comment from O'Neil DeNoux:  "Setting is not just the name of a place or time period, it is the feeling of the place and time period. It includes all conditions – region, geography, neighborhood, buildings, interiors, climate, time of day, season of year." 

Good starting place.  I began thinking about descriptions of setting that really stood out for me and a few came to mind:

* The beginnings of Chandler's novels.

* Elizabeth Peters' descriptions of Luxor and the Valley of the Kings  in various Amelia Peabody novels.

* Doyle's descriptions of  Dartmoor  in Hound of the Baskervilles.

* Tony Hillerman's description of the Navaho Reservation.

* Hong Bay in William Marshall's Yellowthread Street novels.

Personally I am much more interested  in interior settings: descriptions of houses and rooms.  How many full size reproductions have been made of 221B Baker Street?  Rex Stout provided a detailed plan of Nero Wolfe's famous office but that doesn't prevent people from arguing with it or (very common)  picturing it in mirror image.  

If you want a real master class in describing interiors in an interesting manner open any of Mick Herron's Slow Horse novels.  Near the beginning of each one you will find a description of Slough House; each version is different, and each is intriguing. 

All this came to mind because I have a story in the current issue of Black Cat Weekly and setting is important in it.  All the tales in my "Bad Day" series take place in Brune County, which is fictional, but "A Bad Day For Good Samaritans" centers on a park which is very much based on a real one in my city. 

 Well, here is a little report I wrote on Facebook in 2020 about something that happened to me: 

The pond this week

My story begins with a similar situation except the mother is nasty (conflict is the kernel of fiction).  So I went to some trouble to describe the place.  But the other scenes in the story are afterthoughts, with hardly more than a few words of description.

The pond in 2020

I suppose the point I am making is that you don't go deep into setting unless it is crucial to the story.  That could mean it is part of the plot (as in mine) or part of the mood.  But as always in short stories, the rule is not one word  should be included that doesn't move the story forward.

Now over to you: what are your favorite fictional settings?


 

  

How to Maintain a Career in Fiction Writing

 Today, I'm combining the wisdom of two authors I much admire, Benjamin Stevenson and John Floyd.

Two nights ago, I hosted/interviewed Australian author Benjamin Stevenson on stage at the Centennial Theatre in Burlington, Canada.  To say I was 'outnumbered' is an understatement:  Benjamin's book "Everyone in my Family has Killed Someone" has sold a million copies!  I don't believe I've sold even half that if you were to combine all my books, short stories, and comedy pieces put together.  (Okay, the newspaper columns had audiences in the millions, but that wasn't fiction.)

It was an electric night on stage with Benjamin, as we both got our start writing standup.  Lots of fun!  But some of the things we talked about have really resonated with me after the event.

Benjamin said it takes him two years to write a book.  (It takes me one year.  I sit in awe of cozy writers who can write three a year, frankly.)  We both agreed on one thing:  We have to be really excited about a book project to sit down, bum in chair, and write every day until that one project is done.

Excited.  I've thought back to my own career as a novelist, and can see that this drives me as well.

I didn't start as a novelist.  I began life as a short story writer.  But when the short story market began to shrink, I started to think about meeting the challenge of writing a novel. 

My first series is still my bestselling individual series.  Rowena Through the Wall was epic fantasy, or what they would call Romantasy these days.  It was featured in USA Today some years ago, and took off (a top 50 Amazon bestseller, all books.)  That series was great fun to write, but once I finished it, it felt that fantasy was kind of done for me.  I looked around for something that would excite me. 

This brings me to John Floyd's column from a few weeks ago, The Old Genre Switcheroo, about moving between genres or subgenres.  I realized that this is what I've been doing.  It's how I've stayed excited, while continuing to write novels.

My next series was The Goddaughter mob caper series.  You can't get more different from dark ages fantasy than that!  A contemporary mob goddaughter in Hamilton doesn't want to be one, but keeps getting dragged back in to bail out her family.  

Totally different genres with different rules.  What they did have in common?  Both series were high comedy.   

When that series ended, I looked around for another genre or subgenre that I could get excited about.  Something that would challenge me, and provide a host of fresh ideas.

Which led to The Pharaoh's Curse Murders (out this week!) and the historical Merry Widow Murder series.  Still humorous, but with the challenge of a 1929 setting and - new for me - classic mystery plotting requirements.

Challenging and therefore exciting, for this writer. 

What does all this prove?  This is what I've learned:

The secret to having a multi-decade career in fiction writing is to be versatile.  Move where the market goes.  Keep yourself fresh by exploring new genres or sub-genres.  

Versatility.  Which begs the question, what's next for this writer, after The Kennel Club Murders, out April 2027?

I'm excited to see.  

Melodie Campbell is the winner of ten awards, including The Derringer and the Crime Writers of Canada Award of Excellence, for her 21 novels and 60 short stories.  She didn't even steal them.

NOW AVAILABLE AT B&N, AMAZON, CHAPTERS/INDIGO AND INDEPENDENTS! 

 

 

Avignon and All That

"During a January closed-door meeting at the Pentagon, a Trump administration official reportedly warned a Vatican ambassador that America had the military power to do whatever it wants in the world, and that the Catholic Church had better take its side.
While the sourcing is limited, the American government confirms the meeting happened (if not the wording used) and Christopher Hale confirms that “some Vatican officials were so alarmed by the Pentagon’s tactics that they shelved plans for Pope Leo XIV to visit the United States later this year [for the celebration of America’s 250th].” All of which certainly puts the Pope's comments against American violence in Iran in a different light.
But what’s getting a ton of attention is both the worst sourced, and most intriguing, piece: that an American official in that meeting invoked the Avignon Papacy." (LINK)

Why does that matter? Well, bringing up the Avignon Papacy to a Pope – any Pope – is pretty much a direct threat.

Back in the High Middle Ages, before the Calamitous 14th Century (and thank you, Barbara Tuchman, for one of the greatest histories ever written), i.e., the 1300s, there was only one official church in all of Western Europe, the Church, catholic and Catholic. Everyone was born into it, and it was integral to everything. The Church told you what was right and what was wrong, how to get to heaven, how to love your fellow man, how you should work, how you should live, how you should treat each other. All the social services that government and various non-profit organizations do today were then done by the church and the (often forced) largesse of the wealthy: welfare to widows and orphans, hospitals, asylums, orphanages, schools, etc.

The Church was like breathing, it was all around you. And that was fine with most people. The High Middle Ages, from 950 to 1300, has been called the Great Age of Faith. Cathedrals were built. Crusades were fought. And it helped that it was what's known as the Medieval Warm Period, a/k/a the Climatic Optimum: perfect weather, good harvests, often great harvests, fat bellies...

And then it all went to hell in a handcart, thanks to the Hundred Years' War (between England and France), the Black Death (where a third of the world OR MORE died, and that was just the first go-round), and the Avignon Papacy (a/k/a the Babylonian Capitivity of the Church) and the Great Schism. These three things shattered everything.

AVIGNON AND WHAT CAME NEXT

The papal palace in Avignon

Jean-Marc Rosier from http://www.rosier.pro

So let's start off with a problematic Pope, Pope Boniface VIII (r. 1294-1303): He was from the Gaetani family, wealthy Italian nobility. (Back then, it was pretty normal for a Pope to be elected from among wealthy Italian families and would be so for a very long time.) And it had been expected that he'd be elected to the papacy, but it didn't happen.

Instead, a monk named Pietro Angelerio, a hermit monk was elected by a fluke of frustrated cardinals (who were tired of wealthy noble Italian families running everything, and this was way before the Borgias). Pope Celestine was extremely holy, and wept when he was dragged from his cell to Rome. He was easily persuaded to resign a few months later, probably by Boniface, who was immediately elected Pope.

NOTE: Celestine had been promised he could return to his hermitage, but instead Boniface had Celestine arrested and imprisoned until he died.

Pope Boniface accomplished a lot, including the Regulae Iuris, a collection of legal principles, which is still used as a source for deciding matters of canon law. But his most infamous achievement was the papal bull Unam Sanctam – which declared the pope's jurisdiction over both temporal and spiritual powers: "We declare, announce and define that it is altogether necessary to salvation that every human creature be subject to the Roman pontiff."

This wasn't new: it was pretty much believed throughout Western Europe. Not in Eastern Europe, where the Orthodox Church still considered the Bishop of Rome as just another Patriarch among many. The Catholic/Orthodox schism over papal authority goes back a very long way...

The King of France was Philip IV a/k/a "the Fair" (apparently he was handsome), and did his best to expand French lands. He spent a lot of time at war with England, also with Spain, Flanders, etc., while setting up an alliance with Scotland (the "auld alliance" began with him), conquered Flanders, and made contact with the Mongols with the idea of future military alliances. The trouble is, all that cost money. He was always scrambling for money, and got it a variety of ways, such as arresting bankers and seizing their money.

(Later, under the next Pope, Philip IV pitched a huge fight with the Knights Templar, who had financed most of his war with England, and sent troops to arrest all the Templars in France, accusing them of sacrilige, idolatry, homosexuality, financial corruption, fraud, and secrecy. And seized all their large assets…)

But then Philip IV levied taxes on the French clergy of one-half their annual income. Neither the Church nor the papacy would put up with that... Pope Boniface VIII issued the bull Clericos Laicos, forbidding the transference of any church property to the French Crown.

So between the two bulls, Philip IV of France saw a threat, and held a little assembly of his own in Paris in April 1302. Nobles, burgesses and clergy met to denounce the Pope and pass around a crude forgery*, Deum Time ("Fear God"), in which Boniface supposedly claimed feudal suzerainty over France, an "unheard-of assertion". Boniface denied the document and its claims, but – insanely – reminded Phillip that previous popes had deposed three French kings. (Also a few English ones, including John Lackland.)

*I know, you thought social media and fake news were modern, right?

And that ticked Philip IV off enough to call for a council to depose Boniface on charges of heresy, blasphemy, murder, sodomy, simony, and sorcery. Boniface prepared to excommunicate Philip, and in order to stop him, Philip hired some thugs who attacked Boniface and imprisoned him for three days without food or water. Boniface was rescued by a group of Italian nobles, but the pope died of his treatment within a month.

Depiction of the death of Boniface in a
15th-century manuscript of Boccaccio's De Casibus

Pope Clement V (r. 1305-1314)

With Boniface's death, King Philip IV promptly bribed the college of cardinals, and Boniface's successor was a Frenchman who revoked Unam Sanctam. And in 1309 King Philip IV moved Clement and the papacy to Avignon, France. Clement brought with him all the French cardinals, papal bureaucracy, etc. In exchange, Philip promised him protection from anything like what happened to poor Boniface.

And there the papacy stayed, at Avignon until 1377, a period that's known as the Babylonian Captivity of the Church.

In case you're wondering, this was a disaster for the Church, because the church expenses skyrocketed. Why? Well, they're in France, and the papal states are in Italy, and the papal states are where a lot of the papal wealth comes from. And the money isn't flowing regularly, so papal taxes went up even more. And, since the pope and his court were in France, and dependent on French support, they rubber-stamped all of the French king's policies and decisions. Especially since, of the 134 cardinals that were created during these 70 years, 113 of them are French.

But it really helped French royalty. A nice, tame Church that could pretty much be controlled…

Gennadii Saus i Segura

A map of Rome, showing an allegorical figure of Rome
as a widow in black mourning the Avignon Papacy

But that's medieval history - why does it matter that someone brought that up to today's representative for the Pope?

The big deal is that the Avignon Papacy began with a king sending a bunch of thugs to capture the Pope, and then setting up his own pope on his own land and controlling the church for 70 years.

Anyone in the Vatican would, and probably did, see "mentioning" it as a threat.

BTW, back in the day, things got worse. Eventually a pope returned to Rome, but instead of things getting back to normal, the French contingent elected yet another Pope in Avignon. So now there were two Popes, one in Avignon, one in France, each excommunicating the other, and all of the others' followers...  Eventually there were three popes...  Briefly... But that's another story, for another time.

Some Great New Books

Books. Books. Books.

I read a lot. Last year, for instance, I finished more than 200 published books (and many short stories and unpublished novels and short story manuscripts). One thing I enjoy as much as reading is telling people about books I love. And since today, March 31, is the last day of the first quarter of 2026, this seems a good time to talk about my favorite mystery/crime books published in the last three months. 

 

 Finlay Donovan Crosses the Line

Elle Cosimano's wonderfully funny and fresh Finlay Donovan series is back with its sixth book, Finlay Donovan Crosses the Line. I think it's the best one since we were first introduced to Finlay and her nanny/best friend/unintentional partner in crime, Vero (short for Veronica), in Finlay Donovan is Killing It. The series begins with Finlay--a romantic-suspense author and single mom juggling two small kids, an annoying ex-husband, money problems, and a book deadline--being mistaken for a hit woman. 

Each book is madcap and fun, this newest one especially. It has Finlay, Vero, and friends trying to clear Vero of charges that she stole a lot of money that her old college sorority raised from illegal poker games. The story is engaging, with tons of twists, strong characters, a great voice, and clever, interesting writing. I laughed out loud often. If you haven't checked out this series yet, don't wait. The first novel is being adapted by Tina Fey for a TV series on Peacock. Take my advice: read the books first. While you could start with the sixth book, you'll get much more enjoyment by reading them in order. 

 The Bookbinder's Secret 

There are a bunch of books with this title. I am talking about the one written by A. D. Bell. This is a debut novel, but it doesn't read like one. It is set in England at the start of the twentieth century. The main character, Lily, is an accomplished bookbinder (she is technically an apprentice but it is in name only). While repairing a book, she finds an old letter hidden in the binding, and it leads her to a dangerous mystery that she is compelled to investigate. 

This novel has wonderful characters, a well-drawn setting, and an intriguing story. The voice is melodious, and the writing is strong. Plus you get an inside look at bookbinding. What reader wouldn't like that? I did have a quibble: Lily didn't quickly figure something out that seemed obvious to me. But a book needn't be perfect to be recommended, and I definitely recommend this one.

  

Murder Will Out

This is another debut, and I have to thank Kristopher Zgorski for talking about it recently and thus bringing it to my attention. Jennifer K. Breedlove's Gothic-ish novel, set on an island off the coast of Maine, won the Mystery Writers of America/Minotaur Books First Crime Novel Award last year, and I see why. 

The story opens with Willow returning to the island where she spent summers as a child. She has come back to attend the funeral of her beloved yet long-estranged godmother, Sue. It turns out that Sue recently inherited a mansion (a haunted mansion--but it's not scary-haunted), and her death--occurring the day before she was supposed to get married--looks awfully suspicious to Willow. With the help of new friends, including a resourceful librarian and a smart, brave, charming corgi, Willow is determined to find out what happened. 

This book has strong writing and an engrossing, complex story. The author makes great use of the setting, especially the house and the ghosts. I appreciate how the main character grows by the end and finds her place in the world. And of course I love the dog. I did find the large cast of characters a little hard to follow at times. And I have a problem with a legal issue affecting the plot that the author (and her editor) overlooked. It could have been resolved with an additional sentence or two. Nonetheless, this is a book I enjoyed and recommend.

A Field Guide to Murder

The final book I'm recommending is also a debut. Written by Michelle L. Cullen, A Field Guide to Murder has two main characters, Harry--a sixtysomething anthropologist who's no longer traveling the world thanks to his broken hip--and Emma, his twentysomething nurse. When one of Harry's neighbors calls him begging for help right before she dies (murdered, of course), no broken hip is going to keep him from finding out whodunit. And Emma, dissatisfied with her life, is happy to help him. 

I enjoyed how both characters grow throughout the book. And I loved watching them learn to lean on each other as they investigated, developing a sweet father/daughter-type relationship. The book has a slow start and a lot of characters, but once I got into it, I was invested in the mystery and especially in Harry and Emma. The writing was good and, at times, funny. A solid debut. 

 

Overall, all four of these books are recommended. As I said, the Finlay Donovan series is up to book six, and the other three books are the first in their series. I'm looking forward to the next book from all of these authors. I hope they are released sooner than later.

Before I go, I don't usually mention here the release of books I edited. But today happens to be the publication date of Let Nothing Astonish You by Lauren Opper. This intricate whodunit is set in part in a Gothic mansion in small-town Connecticut. It is Opper's first novel, and it comes with a blurb from none other than Meg Gardiner: "A lively mystery rich with atmosphere, a vivid cast of suspects, and some delicious twists. Enjoy!" I couldn't say it better myself. 

Happy book birthday, Lauren! May your writing career be long and bright.

 

 

 

 

 

A Sleep or A Scrape

As part of an irregular series of blogs looking at notable trials from this month in history, I'd like to enter Mr. Peabody's Wayback Machine. Let's revisit 1845 and the murder trial of Albert Tirrell. Although old, the case offers an opportunity to consider the roles of defense attorneys, prosecutors, and novel defenses. 

Twenty-two-year-old Albert Tirrell was no paragon of virtue. The scion of a wealthy Weymouth, Massachusetts family, he left his wife and two children to maintain a relationship with Maria Bickford, a prostitute living in a Boston brothel. Although they traveled and were constantly together, she refused to abandon her profession. Maria was successful in her work; she could afford a maid and expensive clothing. The relationship between Bickford and Tirrell was described as volatile. Maria reportedly said that she enjoyed quarreling with Albert because they had such a good time making up.  

In September 1845, local authorities charged Albert with adultery for cohabiting with Maria while married. He surrendered, posted a bond, and returned to Maria.

Albert visited her at her disreputable boarding house after her last customer on October 26^th, 1845. Late that evening, the proprietor saw and heard the couple arguing. The next morning, the proprietor and his wife heard a scream and a heavy thud from the upstairs room. They heard someone running down the stairs and out the door. Maria was found on her back, a neck wound nearly cutting off her head. Someone had set fire to the bed on which she lay. At the foot of the bed was a bloody razor. A man's walking stick and vest in the room were found spattered with blood. The landlord also found a letter addressed with the initials, "A.J.T. to M.A.B."

National Police Gazette

At about the same time, Albert Tirrell arrived at a nearby stable and requested a horse. He had gotten into a little scrape, he reported. When the police tried to find Tirrell, they discovered he had fled. From Weymouth, Tirrell traveled through Vermont to Canada. There, he boarded a ship bound for Liverpool. Bad weather forced the ship back to port. He journeyed to New York and booked a boat for New Orleans. He was arrested in Louisiana.

Tirrell hired Rufus Choate to defend him. A protégé of Daniel Webster, Choate is considered one of the great American lawyers of the 19^th Century. An outstanding orator, he was famous for delivering the “longest sentence known to man.” (1,219 words)

The prosecutor presented a strong circumstantial case, relying on the abovementioned facts. The witnesses, however, all resided in the brothel, and no one was beyond impeachment. Additionally, no one witnessed the murder. Still, robust evidence pointed toward Albert Tirrell.

Then Rufus Choate began his defense. His strategy was three-pronged. Maria may have killed herself, the defense argued. Choate’s associates impugned Maria’s character and suggested that suicide was “almost the natural death of persons of her character.” This theory suffered, however, from the violent nature of the injury to her neck. The defense team also presented evidence of Albert’s good character before he was ensnared by the lascivious Maria. Choate suggested another resident of the boardinghouse might have done it. And finally, the defense argued that if Tirrell had killed her, it was while he was sleepwalking.

A parade of friends and family testified to his sleepwalking habit beginning as early as age six. They elicited testimony that the somnambulism had increased in frequency and manifested bizarre behaviors. These episodes, according to his family, included window-smashing and threatening his brother with a knife. The dean of the Harvard Medical School testified that a person in a somnambulistic state could rise, dress, kill, set a fire, and escape.  

It is an essential element of most crimes that the defendant intended to commit the offense. As a society, we criminalize behavior that a person knows or should know is wrong. But if they don't understand, then punishment serves no purpose. Usually, this applies to young children or to the insane.

Harvard Art Museum

On March 27th, 1845, Rufus Choate gave his closing argument to the jury. He began by telling them he did not intend to take up much of their time. He then talked for five hours non-stop. The court recessed for a meal, and when the court resumed, Choate continued for another hour and a half. He spent much of the postprandial argument focused on somnambulism.

The jury deliberated for two hours before acquitting Tirrell.

The strategy worked again when the prosecutor tried to convict Tirrell of arson for setting the room on fire.

Tirrell later wrote to Rufus Choate asking the lawyer to return half his legal fee. He argued that he shouldn't have to pay so much for a case where it had been too easy to persuade the jury of his innocence.

I do not want to leave the blog with the impression that somnambulism serves as a get-out-of-jail card. According to an internet search, the defense has been tried perhaps sixty times. Most of the time, it has not been successful. Sleep scientists say it would not work today; Tirrell's behaviors, especially the flight, cannot be explained by sleepwalking. Even Tirrell did not get away completely. He went to prison for the original adultery charge. The judge refused to dismiss the case and sentenced him to three years.

Besides an interesting fact pattern, the case highlights the roles of the prosecutor and the defense. The government must prove each element. The government needs a clear message to explain the defendant’s actions. It has a problem, even today, when a victim comes from a marginal or ostracized part of the community.

The defense, meanwhile, succeeds when it undermines even one necessary element of the government's case. To do this, sometimes an astute lawyer presents a unified theory; other times, he or she scattershoots. Sometimes, the defense merely picks at the government's case, testing its reliability and challenging the credibility of the witnesses on which it rests. In other cases, the attorney prosecutes the defense—putting forward an alternative theory that explains the evidence and exonerates the client.

Choate tried all of the above. He picked at and maligned the government's evidence. He highlighted matters the prosecutor had not brought up--chiefly an eyewitness. He also put forward several alternatives. Choate's chief theory, the one that keeps the murder case of Albert Tirrell in the public eye, was the defense of somnambulism. A novel defense that in this case worked. 

Albert Tirrell's murder trial is the March Trial of the Month.

Now go get a good night's sleep.

Until next time. 

Pulpwood Fiction

I like that term. Pulpwood Fiction isn't an established genre, but it's a definite--and different--area of storytelling, one that focuses on the gritty, blue-collar people of the rural South, where the setting plays a central role. I've also heard it called Redneck Noir, and Grit Lit. A blog I found a few years ago refers to it as "good old-fashioned noirish pulp fiction with a Southern twist."

One reason I like those kinds of stories is, of course, that I grew up in that part of the country, with all its weird food and scenery and characters and traditions. As I said in one of my private-eye stories a few years ago, the Deep South is like the song: fish are jumpin', the cotton is high, and the livin' is easy. At least usually. Everyone moves at a slower pace and many things get done at a slower pace, including talking. Most of us sound like Billy Bob Thornton, or Holly Hunter, or Walton Goggins.

Some of my short stories that were the most fun to write are set in that world, both past and present--partly because it's familiar ground and partly because it's just easier. I don't have to do as much research. 

I think the best writer of so-called pulpwood fiction is Joe R. Lansdale. Most of his novels and short stories are set in East Texas, in and around the fictional town of LaBorde (often compared to Nacogdoches, the author's hometown). My favorite Lansdale books are standalones, but I also love his series of novels and stories featuring Hap Collins and Leonard Pine. 

A quick description of those two: Hap is a white, straight, liberal redneck who doesn't like guns and Leonard is a gay black Republican who doesn't like much of anything except Dr Peppers and vanilla cookies. They've been best friends since childhood, and despite mostly-good intentions they wind up in deep trouble at every turn--and often have to shoot their way out. 

So far, three movies have been made from Lansdale's novels and novellas. Bubba Ho-Tep (2002) with Bruce Campbell and Ossie Davis, Cold in July (2014) with Sam Shepard and Don Johnson, and The Thicket (2024) with Juliette Lewis and Peter Dinklage. All are worth watching, and The Bottoms, which won an Edgar for Best Novel in 2001, is supposedly under film development. There's also an excellent TV series appropriately called Hap & Leonard, starring James Purefoy and the late Michael Kenneth Williams. The first of the three H&L seasons is the most fun, but all of them are good.

Another thing worth mentioning: We've talked a lot at this blog about humor in fiction writing--and Lansdale is one of the best at this. I've learned a lot from him, and I think any writer can.

Here are some of my favorite Lansdale standalone novels:

Edge of Dark Water

Sunset and Sawdust

The Bottoms

Paradise Sky

A Fine Dark Line

The Thicket

And my favorite Hap & Leonard novels:

Savage Season

Mucho Mojo

The Two-Bear Mambo

Vanilla Ride

Rusty Puppy

Hatchet Girls

The Elephant of Surprise

If you're interested, Lansdale has also written plenty of short-story collections, my favorite of which is Driving to Geronimo's Grave.

That's all I can think of, for today. If you haven't read Joe Lansdale, I hope you will. I believe I have everything he's written right here on the shelves of my home office, and I've read several of his novels and many of his stories two or three times each.

And why not? I can identify with these folks.

When They Stop Teaching the Classics...and Cursive

I heard recently that the school district I am in has decided to stop teaching Shakespeare.  That alarms me for so many reasons, but also for a personal one.

Quite simply, I'm having a hard time finding books to use as examples in teaching fiction writing.

I used to have a lovely example, when trying to show what was meant by 'plot'.  I'd ask my class:  "What is the plot of Gone with the Wind?"

Several people would put up their hands, and say, "It's about the Civil War." 

And I would say, "No it isn't.  You've just described setting.  The SETTING of Gone with the Wind is the civil war.  The PLOT is something like this:  Scarlet O'Hara falls in love with a man who does not return her love, and she spends the entire civil war chasing after him.  Until in the end, she decides other things are more important."

Lots of Ohs! and Ahs!  Smiles all around.

Flash forward to my last term. I ask the same question of the class (all adults):  "What is the plot of Gone with the Wind?"

Not a single hand went up.

Nobody had read it or even seen the movie.

Me:  "Come on, people!  I can't use Harry Potter for EVERY example!"  (lots of laughter)

Yes, Harry Potter seemed to be the only book everyone in the class had read.  And - dare I say it - most had seen the movie Twilight (but not necessarily read the book.)  This does not leave a lot for me to reference as examples.

Further gripe: 

So here we are today, taking Shakespeare out of the school system.  Does anyone honestly think kids will read Shakespeare on their own?  Are we honestly to face a world in which no one knows the lessons learned in The Scottish Play, Hamlet, The Merchant of Venice, The Tempest, the Richards and Henry's?  And so many more.

A world in which I could say, "He would make a great Caliban" in a business meeting, and no one would know what I meant?  (I made the mistake of saying that once.  Probably not my best political move...)

So this leads me to my latest fear:

I hear they are no longer teaching Cursive.  Which means, in a few years, only a very very few people will be able to read any historical documents.  Any manuscripts in the original.

In fact, I was told today that a California town is asking people who know Cursive to apply for town jobs. 

Does this not scare others?  When only a few can access original text, I worry that everything will be 'as interpreted' by a central body.  

We already know how Homer's work was translated and tinkered with by men centuries ago to change and sometimes diminish the role of women in it.

Dammit, I'm worried.  I want a world where everyone is given the chance to be exposed to ideas.

Not a world where only a few can refute the masters (AI or other) who control the narrative.

Melodie Campbell worries and writes on the shores of Lake Ontario.  Her latest book (available for pre-order everwhere) was given the following review by BOOKLIST (we're permitted to post one sentence in advance of issue date):

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sixteen Lives

Launched in 2017, BCMM
lasted 16 issues.

Black Cat Mystery Magazine—not to be confused with Black Cat Weekly, though it often is—lasted sixteen issues, the final issue releasing September 16, 2025. I had hoped to convince the publisher to continue through issue eighteen, so I held onto the stories already accepted for issues seventeen and eighteen far longer than I should have, not notifying the writers of the magazine’s demise until early February of this year.

My excuse for the delay, lame as it is: I was unable to accept the magazine’s demise, especially during fall 2025 when so many other publishers and publications had announced closure, hiatus, restructuring, new ownership, and other negative news. The market for short crime fiction was collapsing and I didn’t want to share one more bit of bad news in the midst of the shit-storm.

UNOFFICIAL HISTORY

Perhaps someday someone will write the official history of Black Cat Mystery Magazine but, as someone associated with every issue of the magazine, I can share some unofficial history.

I first heard about the impending launch of Black Cat Mystery Magazine when another writer shared inside information mid-2017. I contacted the publisher for more information and was invited to submit. Carla Coupe and John Betancourt were co-editors and they accepted my stories for the first six issues.

After the fourth issue, Carla announced her retirement from the magazine (she didn’t stay retired; she now edits Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine and co-edits, with John and me, Malice Domestic’s annual anthology), and I joined the editorial staff. I co-edited issue five with Carla and John and became the sole editor with issue six.

Many of the stories selected for issues five and six—including mine—were acquired by Carla and John, so my influence over the content didn’t take full effect until issue seven, the special private eye issue.

While the magazine was—much like Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine and Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine—open to all sub-genres of crime fiction, we produced two-more themed issues. Issue twelve was the cozy issue and issue sixteen was the historical issue.

I believe the content of the first issue was solicited, but I’m uncertain how Carla and John found the content for the next few issues. While John selected the classic reprints each issue, I acquired the original content for the issues I edited via open submission calls.

And that lead to the situation mentioned earlier. From the hundreds of stories submitted, I accepted more than I could publish in a reasonable amount of time given the magazine’s publication schedule.

BCMM's final issue was
published in 2025.

LEGACY

Though BCMM lasted only sixteen issues, it published many great stories, including several that were recognized by awards and best-of-year inclusions:

“Rhonda and Clyde” by John M. Floyd (issue 5) was selected for inclusion in The Best American Mystery Stories 2020.

“Blest Be the Tie That Binds” by Michael Bracken (issue 6) was selected for inclusion in The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2021 and was named one of the Other Distinguished Mystery and Suspense stories by The Best American Mystery and Suspense 2021.

“Mustang Sally” by John M. Floyd (issue 7) received a Shamus Award.

“Show and Zeller” by Gordon Linzner (issue 7) was short-listed for a Shamus Award.

“The White Calf and the Wind” by Mike Adamson (issue 11) was short-listed for a Derringer Award and was included in the Honor Roll for The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2023.

“Real Courage” by Barb Goffman (issue 14) was nominated for Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity Awards.

“El Paso Heat” by Peter W.J. Hayes (issue 14) was selected for inclusion in The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2024.

SUPPORT 

While I am dismayed at the loss of Black Cat Mystery Magazine as an ongoing publication, all back issues are still available from the publisher and at various online booksellers. If you didn’t purchase copies when they were first published, you can certainly purchase them now.

Additionally, there are several crime fiction magazines still publishing and a few new ones have recently launched. So, while you’re picking up back issues of BCMM, spend a few dollars supporting the remaining and new publications. Your support helps ensure their continued success.

* * *

“Store-Crossed Lovers” was published February 4, 2026, in Cold Caller.

“Takes the Cake” was published February 5, 2026, in Micromance.

* * *

I’ll be at Left Coast Crime later this week and will be joining the “Short But Usually Not Sweet” panel at noon Thursday in the Seacliff CD room with Tom Andes, Vera Chan, and David Hagerty. Brian Shea will moderate.

* * *

ShortCon, the Premier Conference for Writers of Short Crime Fiction, returns to Alexandria, Virginia, on June 6. Join acclaimed crime fiction professions for an immersive one-day event and learn how to write short crime fiction, get your stories published, and develop and sustain a long-term career writing short. Session leaders include Gary Phillips, Art Taylor, and Michele Slung. Learn more and register at https://www.eastcoastcrime.com/#/.

* * *

Spend four weeks in South Carolina this summer learning to write crime fiction from some of today’s masters: Joe R. Lansdale, Cheryl Head, Michael Bracken, and Warren S. Moore. The Newberry Crime Writing Workshop is an intensive, in-person, one-month workshop focusing on fundamentals particular to the writing of crime, mystery, and suspense fiction. It takes place July 6-31, on the historic campus of Newberry College, in Newberry, South Carolina.

A different professional writer or editor conducts the workshop each week. About fifteen participants are housed in college apartments, and classes are held in seminar facilities. Lunch and dinner are provided and continental breakfasts with coffee will also be available. The writers-in-residence live nearby and are continuously available to students. Mornings are devoted to critiquing manuscripts in a workshop setting. Afternoons, evenings, and weekends are devoted to individual writing, conferences with the current writer-in-residence, social activities, and the completion of class assignments.

Learn more and apply at https://www.newberry.edu/academics/academic-experience/crime-writing-workshop.