Welcome Ausma Zehanat Khan!

INGRID THOFT

Last fall in Toronto I sat waiting for the opening ceremony at Bouchercon to begin.  I don't like to wait, but in this instance, I hoped the delay would continue given that I was sitting next to Ausma Zehanat Khan.  Ausma and I first met through social media and then were on a panel together at the Tucson Festival of Books.  Everything that I had surmised about her from her books was born out in person:  Ausma is smart, talented, kind, and funny.  She also has a Ph.D. in international human rights law with a research specialization in military intervention and war crimes in the Balkans and writes fantastic, thought-provoking mysteries.  I'm so happy she is joining us today on Jungle Reds!

INGRID THOFT:  I love your protagonists, Inspector Esa Khattak and Sergeant Rachel Getty, who are members of Canada’s Community Policing Team.  What is it about these two characters in particular that made you want to tell their story?

AUSMA ZEHANAT KHAN: Thank you, Ingrid! I wanted to write Esa because I hadn’t seen a character like him in crime fiction before—he’s a devout Canadian Muslim, and I’ve portrayed him in ways that people don’t expect to see someone of his background. He’s handsome, charismatic, thoughtful—a bit reserved, because I have always loved the archetype of the sexy, brooding detective—but it’s his faith that grounds his actions and his view of his job. In the real world, there is a lot of prejudice against a person like Esa, and writing him as I have was a way for me to tackle bigotry head-on.

With Rachel, there’s nothing I love so much as characters who have suffered adversity but find a way to push through. Rachel comes from this truly dysfunctional family background, and she’s in a male-dominated field where she’s faced setbacks and been diminished in ways that her male colleagues haven’t experienced—ways that speak to this #metoo moment. But though Rachel is far from perfect, she doesn’t give up on herself—through trial and repeated error, she’s been getting herself on her feet. And then she’s so different from Esa, that creatively it’s been really rewarding to figure out the parameters of their relationship.

IPT:  The latest book in the series, "A Dangerous Crossing,” focuses on the refugee crisis in Europe, specifically on the flight of Syrian refugees to the Greek Islands.  How did you choose this particular issue as the focus of the book?

AZK:  My cousin, who has quite a globe-trotting job, introduced me to an amazing young volunteer who’d been on Lesvos.  I did a long interview with this volunteer that made me realize that no matter what I’d been seeing on the news, I wasn’t even close to having the full picture of conditions in the camps on the islands, or of the overwhelming scale of the crisis. The Greek islands are a perfect microcosm of the different dimensions of the refugee crisis: the many dangers of the journey, the kindness or cruelty of strangers, the inadequate response by both international organizations and national governments, and the very human moments that spring up in these extreme circumstances that we may not expect. 

One thing that struck me when my first book, “The Unquiet Dead," came out, is how many readers responded to the book by telling me that they knew very little about the genocide that followed upon the dissolution of Yugoslavia. Now we’re seeing atrocities on a much greater scale in Syria. I wanted to write about these crimes while they were ongoing to try and provide some context to the refugee crisis, and to clarify the realities we often find difficult to grasp. I hoped I could do my small part to engage on these issues with some immediacy.

IPT:  You have a Ph.D. in international human rights law with a research specialization in military intervention and war crimes in the Balkans.  How did you make the transition from academia to fiction?

AZK:  It wasn’t easy to give up teaching, which I loved, but I felt the administrative side of my job was keeping me from focusing on the things that were important to me about my work. And the academic point of view often insists on this perceived sense of neutrality as a code for objectivity—I couldn’t fit my research or my point of view into that paradigm. I wanted to write more boldly and without that equivocating language. I also wanted to reach a broader audience. I’d been writing fiction all my life, and there finally came a period where I was able to make the decision to make it my priority. But because I’m writing about the issues that concern me, I’m still doing the work that matters most to me.

IPT: What has surprised you most about being a published author?

AZK: In a really great way, I’ve been surprised by how supportive and generous the community of crime writers is. So many writers have taken the time to educate or encourage me—it’s been such a tremendous help, and I’m truly grateful.

IPT:  Some readers may not know that your first fantasy novel, “The Bloodprint” was recently released to rave reviews.  I’m a fan of the tagline on the front: “The only defense against the ignorance of men is the brilliance of powerful women.”  Is there a wannabe book lurking in the back of your brain, something you would write if you didn’t have to consider agents, editors, and fans?  A romance?  Non-fiction? 

AZK:  Thank you so much for that nod to “The Bloodprint”. There is a book I have always wanted to write about a human rights crisis I won’t name. A war of aggression broke out and during the course of an attack on civilians, an entire extended family was destroyed. Its only surviving member was a nine-year-old girl. I want to write the story of that girl. What happened to her after her family was murdered? Who did she grow up to become—and how does she view the world after her experience of tragedy and exile? I don’t think I’m done with the subject of the politics of borders or the horrors of ultra-nationalism. I write about these things, but this little girl lived them. I’m not sure yet if this would be fiction or non-fiction. 

Isn't the UK cover gorgeous?

PS: I would also love to write romance. I write romantic scenes for my books all the time that never make it into the final version because they distract from the story too much. But they’re buried somewhere in the files on my computer!

Ausma will be here to answer your questions and is giving away a copy of "A Dangerous Crossing."  Join us in the comments!

"A Dangerous Crossing"

For Inspector Esa Khattak and Sergeant Rachel Getty, the Syrian refugee crisis is about to become personal. Esa’s childhood friend, Nathan Clare, calls him in distress: his sister, Audrey, has vanished from a Greek island where the siblings run an NGO. Audrey had been working to fast-track refugees to Canada, but now, she is implicated in the double-murder of a French Interpol agent and a young man who had fled the devastation in Syria.

Esa and Rachel arrive in Greece to a shocking scene, witnessing for themselves the massive fallout of the Syrian war in the wretched refugee camps. Tracing Audrey’s last movements, they meet some of the volunteers and refugees―one of whom, Ali, is involved in a search of his own, for a girl whose disappearance may be connected to their investigation. The arrival of Sehr Ghilzai―a former prosecutor who now handles refugee claims for Audrey’s NGO―further complicates the matter for Esa, as his feelings towards her remain unresolved.

Working against time, with Interpol at their heels, Esa and Rachel follow a trail that takes them from the beaches of Greece, to the Turkish–Syrian border, and across Europe, reaching even the corridors of power in the Netherlands. Had Audrey been on the edge of a dangerous discovery, hidden at the heart of this darkest of crises―one which ultimately put a target on her own back?

Ausma Zehanat Khan is the author of the award-winning debut novel The Unquiet Dead, the first in the Khattak/Getty mystery series. Her subsequent novels include the critically acclaimed The Language of Secrets and Among the Ruins. Her latest mystery in the series is A Dangerous Crossing. The Khattak/Getty mystery series has been optioned for television by Lionsgate, and Ausma is also the author of a fantasy series for Harper Voyager. The Bloodprint, Book One of the Khorasan Archives was published in October 2017. Ausma holds a Ph.D. in international human rights law with a specialization in military intervention and war crimes in the Balkans. A British-born Canadian and former adjunct law professor, she now lives in Colorado with her husband.  

Jeffrey Siger: Crisis in Greece

INGRID THOFT

I'm so happy to welcome today's guest, Jeffrey Siger, to the blog.  You may know Jeff from from his terrific series featuring CI Andreas Kaldis set on the Greek Island of Mykonos (his latest adventure "An Aegean April" is out now) or from his leadership roles in Bouchercon.  Jeff lives on Mykonos part-time, and although his books are a great source of entertainment, they also provide readers with some insight into the challenges facing Greece and the rest of Europe.  When I invited Jeff to be a JRW guest, we talked about potential subject matters.  The one I found most intriguing isn't necessarily an easy topic, but I thought it was perfect for the engaged and thoughtful readers of Jungle Red.  Thanks, Jeff, for sharing your insights with us.

From the Lips of Joseph Stalin

Joseph Stalin is attributed to have ruthlessly said, “The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic.”  Whether or not he actually said that, or did so in quite that way, from his actions few would doubt he didn’t believe it.  And from the way our world continues to abide mass deaths and suffering, but is drawn to action by the image of a single lost life, we should not delude ourselves into thinking we have evolved far, if at all, from Stalin’s image of our world. 

Perhaps we’re not wired to consciously process so many deaths as anything more than a blur, yet in a single death we see the potential end of our own time on this earth. Or is it something else?

What prompts me to raise such an upbeat subject on this fine Sunday morning, is an ongoing catastrophe that many forward thinking minds on all sides of the issue consider the severest challenge confronting the West.  But for many it’s a hard one to get your head around because of the large numbers, and many strange names and distant places associated with it.

I began thinking seriously about it when Greece became its new ground zero, for I live on a Greek island half of each year, and write a mystery-thriller series exploring issues confronting contemporary Greece in a way that touches on its ancient roots.  The result is my new CI Andreas Kaldis thriller, "An Aegean April," in which I seek to humanize the many aspects of that tragedy, one far too often summarily described and dismissed with the simple phrase, “the refugee crisis.”

The long simmering issue of refugee migration into Greece via Turkey came to a boil in 2015, when over a matter of months, more that 600,000 men, women, and children fleeing the terrors of their homelands (mainly Syria), flooded out of Turkey across the narrow Mytilini Strait onto the largely pastoral northeastern Aegean Greek island of Lesvos.  They came in the hope of making it from there to northern Europe.  Another 400,000 refugees found their way into Greece along other routes, bringing the total number of refugees descending upon Greece in less than a year to nearly ten percent of its eleven million population.

Are your eyes glazing over from the numbers yet?  Just wait, there’s more.

At 600,000 refugees, we’re talking about seven times the population of Lesvos.  That’s the equivalent of more than 60 million people landing by boat in New York City or 28 million in Los Angeles.

How could Greece, a country in the throes of its own Great Depression, deal with such massive numbers unaided, much less how could the inhabitants of Lesvos? 

Hello, EU.  If ever there were a crisis befalling one EU member that should be shared by all members, this would seem to be the one. But despite Germany’s promise to open its arms to a million refugees—a decision many argue triggered the flood into Greece—Greece found little more than platitudes coming from the EU.  Perhaps because the EU considered Greece, Italy, and Spain its refugee filter traps, and this was simply Greece’s turn for shielding the rest of the EU from unwanted immigration.

Whatever the reasoning, as often occurs when governments cannot get their acts together, there are those who will profit off government inaction. In this instance, it turned people-smuggling into a multi-billion-euro industry in Turkey.  The smugglers, their sex-and labor-trafficking colleagues, ancillary businesses, and, of course, those protecting them, all became very rich.

But even as armadas of dangerously overloaded refugee boats made their way across treacherous seas toward a waiting frenzy of media, NGO and celebrity attention, for much of the world all remained business as usual.

That is, until the day when a single photograph of a lone child lying dead on an isolated stretch of beach galvanized world attention, and sent governments scurrying to act.

We can't show you the actual photograph due to copyrights issues.

Cue the Stalin quote.

Years have past since then, but the refugee crisis continues in Greece with 50,000 still detained in relocation centers—as they’re officially called, though some refer to them as hotspots, and others as concentration camps.  Worldwide, more than 65 million refugees remain displaced and in dire need of protection and care.

It is a crisis that shall not go away, certainly not as long as there are leaders who regard Stalin’s words an action plan for dealing with their own populations.

Refugees arriving on Lesvos

So, what is the civilized world to do?  How about looking at refugees as individual human beings, not statistics, and building an overall plan up from there.  That might just work.

At least that’s my take, and why I wrote "An Aegean April."

Jeff is joining us today to answer your questions, big and small.  Thanks, Jeff, for educating me this Sunday morning!

Gorgeous Mykonos

About Jeff Siger
I am an American living on the Aegean Greek island of Mykonos. A Pittsburgh native and former Wall Street lawyer, I gave up my career as a name partner in my own New York City law firm to write mystery thrillers that tell more than just a fast-paced story. My novels are aimed at exploring serious societal issues confronting modern day Greece in a tell-it-like-it-is style while touching upon the country's ancient roots.

Some Mykonian friends told me if I started sprinkling murders with a message across my adopted country's tourist paradises, I'd likely be banished, if not hung. No one was more amazed than I when my debut novel, Murder in Mykonos (a sort of Mamma Mia setting for a No Country for Old Men story), became Greece's #1 best selling English-language novel (and a best-seller in Greek, as well).

As of September 2017 I have eight Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis novels out there with a ninth coming in January 2018 and receive no more than the customary number of death threats. I'm diligently trying to improve my percentage in that regard with posts about Greece each Saturday on the Murder is Everywhere blogsite I share with nine renowned mystery writers from around the world.

It's been a remarkable journey, punctuated most notably by The New York Times selecting the fourth in my Andreas Kaldis series (Target: Tinos) as one of its five "picks for the beach" while calling the entire series, "thoughtful police procedurals set in picturesque but not untroubled Greek locales;" Left Coast Crime's nomination of the fifth in the series (Mykonos After Midnight) in 2014 as Best Mystery in a Foreign Setting; a 2016 Barry Award Best Novel Nomination for my seventh in the series (Devil of Delphi); starred reviews and official government citations; and this quote from Fodor's Greek Islands Travel Guide under a section titled "Mykonos After Dark," which colleagues say I should consider the equivalent of winning an Oscar: "Some say that after midnight, Mykonos is all nightlife—this throbbing beat is the backdrop to Jeffrey Siger's popular mystery, Murder in Mykonos."

My work is published in the US, UK, Germany (German), and Greece (Greek and English), and I'm honored to have served as Chair of the National Board of Bouchercon, the world's largest mystery convention, and as Adjunct Professor of English at Washington & Jefferson College, teaching mystery writing.

You Can't Go Back Again

RHYS BOWEN: I have just returned from a wonderful trip that took me to Turkey, Egypt and Greece. Turkey and Egypt were new to me, places I had long dreamed of visiting.  Istanbul seemed to me a delightful city with a grand bazaar right out of the thousand and one nights (too bad that it has now erupted in rioting and unrest). Egypt was a sad and sorry place, one that the tourists now shun increasing the poverty and desperation there. Piles of garbage line the streets, half built buildings everywhere, no traffic rules, no jobs and presumably ripe for Islamic extremists.

But Greece was another matter. I was visiting it for the first time in 50 years. Fresh out of high school, naïve and idealistic, I had spent three months wandering around Greece with my friend Ruth. We took local buses, rusty ferries and slept in private houses or tiny hotels. Two girls alone in a land where they kept their women firmly at home. When we ate in cafes we were always the only females. We got used to men propositioning us and old women inquiring why we weren’t married yet. I don’t know why I had resisted going back for so long. Perhaps because I had been told that it had changed so much and become so commercial that I would be disappointed.
So it was with apprehension that I watched Mykonos as our ship steamed into the port. But there were no giant Sheratons or Hiltons to be seen. The town looked as it always had—small gleaming white buildings, blue water in the tiny harbor. True there were many more stores and more cafes but it was still enchanting. We had spent two weeks there on my previous trip, buying warm bread and cheeses and grapes before catching the rickety bus to a deserted beach on the far side of the island. No deserted beaches these days—our beach is lined with umbrellas and chairs.
I was even more worried about seeing Athens again. I had heard it was dirty, smog ridden and the Greeks were always having dangerous protests against austeries. But it was still magical with the Acropolis sparkling in sunshine and the evzones parading outside parliament with their “ministry of silly walks” and pom poms on their toes.  And the Greeks were still charming, friendly and laid-back. Everyone wanted to chat, to ask where we had come from, how we liked it there and interested that I had been to Greece so long ago. True the main square was shut for a demonstration once, and we saw a parade of far right black shirts that was scary, but I would go back again in a heartbeat.
So I’m wondering, fellow Reds, have you ever dared to return to a place of your youth? Were you disappointed?

HALLIE EPHRON: A few years ago we went back to Venice - and I felt just that apprehension since it had seemed like such a magical place when we were there on our honeymoon inn 1969. We were not disappointed. This time we steered clear of the Piazza St. Marco which has become ridiculously crowded. The shopping is still extraordinary, the city a work of art, the food fabulous, and there was even a Vaporetto strike like there was the last time we were there.


RHYS: Hallie, I also went back to Venice for the first time since my childhood and found it as entrancing as ever! One of my favorite places.


HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: My mother used to say "Never return to the scene of a former glory." I suppose that was her way of preventing us from trying to recapture something wonderful--that the memory and the experience of a thing is singular--and that new is better. However, my 89-year-old father and his dear wife have just departed for Paris. For the millionth time. They're off to have a birthday dinner for Juliet at the same restaurant where they celebrated 10 years ago, Les Bookinistes. Dad said, when I called him to say bon voyage, "Paris is always wonderful."
I'm trying to figure out what we can learn from this.

LUCY BURDETTE: Hooray for your father, Hank, that's amazing. This is timely because my husband and I are going to the Provence area of France in October. I spent a semester there during my junior year of college. It wasn't a happy time because I was terribly homesick, and my roommate and I were living in cramped quarters with a family who wasn't very hospitable. (counting toilet paper and showers, just for example.)

But we did meet another family who whisked us around the gorgeous countryside every Sunday--Les Baux, La Camargue, Aigues-Mortes, and lots more. John's never been to this area of the country and I'm truly looking forward to going back. I can't imagine being disappointed....

ROSEMARY HARRIS: My husband and I love to go to new places so I suppose we only return to those places we know we still love. Recently that meant Florence, Rome...and Gettysburg, PA.

I'm more likely to have the "you can't go back" experience with books or movies. The first that leaps to mind is The Adams Chronicles. I remembered loving it and in 2013 it was pretty tough going..

DEBORAH CROMBIE: I've never been disappointed in London or Paris. It's been years since I've been to Italy or the south of France, however, so I do wonder if those places would hold up to the memories. I adored Germany on a book signing tour a couple of years ago, much more so than on brief trips in the late 70s.

I was talking to a friend the other night who had spent much time in Mexico City on business, and wondering how I would feel now about Mexico City and Guadalajara, cities where I spent much time from childhood into my twenties, and loved.

And then there's Edinburgh... It's been more than thirty years now since I lived there. I made a very brief visit when my daughter was six, and have passed through Waverley Station a few times on the way to the Highlands. Would I still love it as much as I did then? Now, if I could just think of reason to get my detectives there, I go visit as a research trip...

RHYS: So, dear friends, have you ever gone back to a place that was special for you? Were you disappointed or glad that you did?

On Getting Away

JAN: I've been rewriting a novel that I first wrote at a time when I was doing a lot of sailing and it has a lot of sailing scenes that bring me back to that time in my life. I was never very mechanical and had no natural instincts for sailing. And I sure as hell couldn't find my way home in a storm, as they say. But I loved sailing anyway, and I loved it for this reason.

On a sailboat, you have to be both spare and neat. You only bring the things you really need, and everything, from the winch to the corkscrew, to the pots and pans, has to go back in its place immediately after use.

That I found this so appealing is odd because I'm not a put-it-back-in-its-place kind of gal. I'm much more likely to get distracted halfway through any task and leave all important tools on the counter. I make big messes and clean them up afterward.

But NEVER on a sailboat.

So I've come to think, what I like most about travel -- whether its on a sailboat in Buzzards Bay, an apartment in Aix-En-Provence or a hotel room in Manhattan -- getting away from my stuff. I'm not sure whether it's the stuff itself, or the excess of stuff- but I'm pretty sure that's part of the appeal.

So that's what I think I'm getting away from, but I'm curious, about the rest of you going off on vacation; What is at the heart of your "getting away?"

HANK: Oh, first let me just say. Sailing. I really wanted to do it, so I took lessons in Boston Harbor.

Okay, the instructor said. Point the bow of the boat into the wind.

How do I know which way that is?I asked.

The guy looked a little baffled. You don't know how to tell which way the wind is blowing?

Hank: Well, if it's from the north, say, does that mean its blowing FROM the north? Which to me would mean it's blowing south. Or does it mean it's blowing TO the north? Like, from the south?

Guy: Huh?

Hank: Besides, the wind is all around us, right?

My lessons did not last long.

Getting away? Ah. Very difficult for me.

ROBERTA: Ha, ha Hank you're hysterical. That may have been the last lesson that guy ever taught! I don't mind riding on a sail boat, but don't put me in charge. And only in good weather, which I think kind of defeats the purpose for real sailors, right?

This is not what you asked, but Jan, I have to speak to the luggage/stuff question. I recently bought a new suitcase because the carry-on luggage rules are getting so strict. Nothing worse than trying to jam a too-large suitcase into the overhead compartment with the whole airplane watching. And I'm short so I have to be sure I can hoist the weight overhead--you simply can't (and shouldn't) count on some other passenger to do it for you. Anyway, this new bag is small enough to fit any regulations. I tried it out when I went to visit my family in Florida recently--oh I felt so smug in comparison to the travelers with too much baggage. I don't know how it will work on our real vacation, which is coming up in September. Maybe if I adhered to the "six items of clothing" rule that we've been reading about recently.

And I'm looking forward to getting away--it's very hard to have a real break in this day and age of super-connectedness!

RHYS: Sailing--love it in good weather. I'd never make a round-the-world race. I like being dry and warm. I had crewed on and off but never taken a bota out alone. I did that in Cancun once. Ah, the feeling of power and accomplishment knowing that I was in charge of tis boat, I could go where I wanted and I brought it back safely to the harbor. It was a huge confidence booster.

But what am I getting away from? I'm afraid it nearly always comes with me. I'd like to take a break from writing but on my current schedule there is never time so the computer is on my desk in Nice today and I have to find time to do my five pages. And I can't seem to get away from email either. And have you noticed--whenever you're away the most importnat, compelling emails start arriving. The kind that says, "We must know today whether you'd like to speak at this incredicbily prestigious event and what your topic will be!" When I'm home it's days of boring emails. Vacation and it's stress filled emails every day! I think they just wait and hold them up for my vacations.

HALLIE: As someone who learned the meaning of "Coming about!" the hard way, I am so not into boats. Terra firma, all the way for me. But what an interesting question - do we like to go on vacation to get away from our stuff. Uh...I like to get away from everyone else's stuff (which they leave ALL OVER THE HOUSE except where it belongs), but not mine (which is always in perfect order). It's an "eye of the beholder" thing.

We just got back from Greece and I have to say I loved getting away from the all things telephone and Internet because day to day I am so addicted.

JAN: Hank and Hallie, it doesn't sound as if you got to the part of sailing when you reach the next harbor at sunset and have cocktails in the cockpit and fresh lobster boiled in seawater after. That makes it easier to put up with all that hauling up lines and coming about.

And although I've sailed a Sunfishes by myself, Rhys, it sounds like you have superior sailing skills.

ROSEMARY: I'm so used to my telephone not working that staying connected is not really an issue for me. I do love to check emails though. It's as if I think Russell Crowe is suddenly going to get in touch. "In town for the weekend..fancy a pint?"

On driving vacations I throw as much stuff in the car as I can. Think Thelma and Louise ("but we might need a gun...") Driving from one place to another it's comforting to have that box of cereal or extra jacket in the car. On most other trips I pride myself on packing light. Anyone who's ever met me at a show can attest I don't mind wearing the same outfit a few times. If I change my shoes or earrings I can convince myself it's different.

When I go to Africa I bring very little since I'll be hauling my bag all over the back of beyond. That's liberating. Interestingly enough the Blackberry works in the hut where I usually stay. No electricity, no running water, but if Russell emails, I'm ready.

I'm packing now for a hiking/camping trip to Montana next week. I've managed to convince my husband that we don't need to pack the water purification kit or the campstove. That's getting away - although Leslie W., one of my NE sisters in Crime will be in a cabin not far away so we'll try to connect. What are the odds, right?

JAN: So it sounds a little like Rosemary might be getting away from her stuff, too. How about the rest of you out there, when you are getting away, what are you getting away FROM?