Recovery

A friend underwent the same surgery I did but a week before. Recovery requires, she said, “sitting quietly in a chair.” During my own time of “sitting quietly in a chair,” friends and family brought in meals and books, each sustaining in vital ways.

My daughter shared Drag Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk (translated from the Polish by Antonia Lloyd-Jones). She suggested it might be a cozy mystery. The book incorporates elements of that genre—picturesque setting, quirky characters, amatuer investigators—but it veers from this well-trodden path into deep territory. This who-dunnit conceals ethical and moral questions like spring loaded snares.

I acquired Boys Weekend (Mattie Lubchansky) myself, after reading a review. The idea of a newly out trans artist attending an old friend’s bachelor weekend as “best man”? How would that work out? But when the book arrived, I was a bit startled to find I’d ordered a graphic novel. How did I miss that key fact?

Obviously I am not the target audience for Boys Weekend. AARP is not reviewing graphic novels. I had to think hard about this book. I was not prepared the gore or the depictions of rapacious capitalism. Reading the reviews posted on GoodReads helped me see how these layers worked together and reinforced the personal side of the story.

The friend who brought We Have Always Lived in the Castle (by Shirley Jackson of The Lottery and The Haunting of Hill House) had been trying to convince me to read it for a long time. And there I was, “sitting quietly in my chair,” ready for another book. This edition is wrapped in a dramatic cover by Thomas Ott that might be scratchboard. Every one of the one hundred forty-six pages was a bit unsettling or creepy or even made my skin crawl. Perhaps a portrait of folie a deux?

From Dr. Linwood “Little Bear” Custalow and Angela L. Daniel “Silver Star” we now have The True Story of Pocahontas: The Other Side of History . This slender book also made my skin crawl. This is a first hand account from the sacred oral history of the Mattaponi. Who are you going to believe? John Smith, who wrote his version to sell to his countrymen all too willing to swallow sensationalized tales that glorified one of them? Or Pocahontas’ own people?

My disgust with the long dead John Smith may be partially responsible for my rejection of Spare by Prince Harry. Harry’s bearded face dominates the cover. This stunning jacket design by Christopher Brand is as far as I got with this book. My friend brought it to me because she enjoyed it but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there’s something unsavory about it. Is Harry a reliable narrator? What’s his agenda in publishing this book? Why should I care?

Though I haven’t cracked the book, don’t feel bad for Harry. His handsome volume will not stay long in our LIttle Free Library. Another reader will be happy to find it.

I started reading Deja Noir (by Robert Bailey*) in my chair, moved to my bed to keep reading, and closed the book at 1 a.m. when my eyes started to itch. In the morning, again “sitting quietly in my chair,” I continued reading until I ran out of pages.

Though Hard-nosed PI with a Big Heart is not my usual genre, the slew of distinct characters, colorful descriptions, and a tangled plot that comes together in the end. It kept me guessing until the next-to-the-last chapter. Lots of fireworks and surprises but was the ending a little trite? Come to think of it, so was the opening. Deliberate irony? Definitely amusing, and, after all, this IS a Hard-nosed PI with a Big Heart. I should have seen it coming.

So I’ve had good company while “sitting in a chair quietly” (and if you are tired of the phrase you can imagine how tired I got of sitting in that chair). These books saved me from having to start every conversation with “According to an article in the Washington Post . . . “

*(Years ago, when I showed up, at the Rich Writers critique group, Robert Bailey welcomed and encouraged me, as he had done for other newbies. Bob is much missed.)

More Books

I devour historical romances. The historical details and events may be carefully researched, but the plots are not moored to reality. This is perfect because I am not looking for reality when I read historical romance.

One of my favorite authors is Georgette Heyer. Heyer wrote for an earlier generation so her books never impose 21st century norms on the heedlessly rich of the past. Her fictional lords and ladies reveal their character through their treatment of lesser beings — like servants or shopkeepers. However, none of them apologizes for obscene wealth acquired from cotton, indigo, or sugar plantations or extracted, with the help of the British military, from China or India. In real life, these are ill gotten gains. In Heyer’s books, the wealth just IS and the source is never examined. The plots are light-hearted with clever banter and amusing characters. No mental exertion required.

I like a romance that glosses right over such concerns so, as the reader, I am as untroubled as the heroine is when accepting a glass of champagne from a liveried footman. When I want challenging reading, I know where to look.

Some contemporary authors feel compelled to create heroines who found orphanages, schools, or hospitals for the indigent. Or heroes who are exemplary landlords and lawmakers on the right side of history, right along with their wise investments. Often, this kind of main character, one who could stand up under modern scrutiny, will pull me right out of a story. It’s a tricky goal for a writer: a main character with access to unlimited wealth who is one of the good guys. (It is nice when anyone recognizes injustice, but it ruins escapist fiction when the reader can’t escape.)

Lately, I’ve set aside my historical romance. I now read with ulterior motives. Submissions to literary agents often require a list of “comp” titles, published books whose readers might also buy the manuscript under consideration. So I’m reading lots of cozy mysteries to find comp titles for my unpublished novel, Thrift Store Daze,  which is also a cozy mystery.

Mostly, I am not entertained.

The ones I toss aside after ten pages or three chapters, resemble Mad Libs — just fill in the blank for your plot and start writing your scenes.

Example: (Obnoxiously nosy but thoroughly lovable main character) and her (quirky animal companion) move to (picturesque town) where she opens (cute shop or trendy service). She meets (Gay or POC friend) and (hunky neighbor) who is a (cop or carpenter etc.). She eats (tasty sweet thing: recipe included) and stumbles onto a murder scene. Body is of (person nobody liked). Incredible coincidences allow her to untangle the motive and nail the killer.

Historical romance novels are also predictable and trite. I think fantasy is easier for me to swallow when it’s set in the past. I get annoyed with the main characters in contemporary cozy mysteries who are too much like people who annoy me in real life.

Do I even like cozies? Oh, yes.  I like the Agatha Raisin and Hamish MacBeth series by M. C. Beaton. But I would never claim my book could sell like Beaton’s books do. Arthur Nersesian’s Mesopotamia is a ride you don’t want to miss, though it starts out a bit dark. Food of Love: A Comedy About Friendship, Chocolate and a Small Nuclear Bomb by Anne R. Allen is not exactly a cozy mystery but it’s close and it’s funny.

The right books are out there somewhere. I am still on the hunt.

Please! Point me toward a cozy mystery that I will happily read all the way through — if you can.