In Praise of Cocktails.

RHYS BOWEN: As you found out yesterday, I’m in Hawaii for a few days of rest and relaxation (which I’m now getting after a traumatic first day: bags took an hour and a half to arrive. Fire alarm went off at two in the morning at the hotel. Strong winds dropped black stuff from the ceiling vent onto my counter etc etc)

One of the treats in Hawaii is COCKTAILS. I love the look of that pretty tall glass with colored liquid inside, an umbrella on the top with a chunk of pineapple and a cherry. So fun. So festive. So far I’ve had a mai tai (naturally), a passion fruit something… (forgot the name) and a pina collada. And I love the cool fruitiness of a long drink (with a touch of alcohol, of course)

And the good thing about cocktails is that they have now become fashionable at home. When I first arrived in America drinking was all about hard liquor. Men at business lunches had a martini or two. (I shudder to think about the deals made)

Then it was all about wine. America became a country of wine lovers. We went from white Zinfandel to boutique Sauvignon Blancs. And that was fine with me.

But now every good restaurant has a fun cocktails list with interesting and different ingredients. I’m a fan of the lavender mojito, as well as classics like the Moscow Mule.  Recently I had a Dark and Stormy, which was a dark rum with ginger beer and lime juice. Good.

I don’t make cocktails at home apart from margaritas or bloody marys in the summer, but as I’m writing this I think that I should try and invent my own. Yes, that will be my quest for the summer. A signature cocktail to be served at future Rhys Bowen signing events!  The Rhys’s Piece?

Or how about the Jungle Red? What ingredients would go into that? It could be a twist on a bloody mary, couldn’t it? But if we wanted sweet? Marachino cherries definitely. Cassis? Passionfruit juice?  Suggestions, please?

Are you a fan of cocktails? If you invented one what would it contain?

Traveling Dreams

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: I've been thinking and dreaming much about traveling lately. Part of that is usual for this time of year - as you may have gathered from Monday's conversation, January and February in Maine is no picnic. I've reached the point in life where, if I had more cash and fewer obligations, I would happily up stakes and seek out warmer climes in winter. But part of it, of course, is the fact that I (and most of the rest of the world) haven't been able to travel. 

 I've gone places, yes, absolutely. In the summer, when infection rates were down and we could all spend plenty of time out of doors, the girls and I drove to Norfolk to spend some time with the Sailor. I spent a week in the Philadelphia region with my dear friend Rachael. I went twice to my dad's place in upstate New York. It feels a bit like nineteenth century travel: trips to relations and close friends, nothing that takes more than a long day, and you stay at least a week. 

I know I'm luckier than many during this pandemic. Honorary Red Celia Wakefield and her husband have barely been out of their house since last February. But still. I yearn for real travel. To head out for foreign climes and experience a new culture, eat new food, learn new things. Or to revisit favorite destinations from years past. I'm coming up with a list, dear readers, and I swear, I'm going to check each location off sooner or later (because if I don't I will really have wasted a lot of time looking up hotels, flights and lists of "best things to see and do." Where am I dreaming of?

 

 

1. Tahiti. Yes, I know it's cliche. But I also know it's 85F/29C today in Papeete, and along with white and ebony beaches, they have luxe resorts with swim-up bars. I don't pretend to be going to Tahiti for culture. I want to lay in the sun, splash in the water, and overindulge in coconut-flavored drinks.

 

 

 2. New York City. So much closer that French Polynesia, but it feels as far away right now. In the Before Times, I went often enough that I kind of took it for granted. The last time I was in NYC was a little over a year ago. Youngest and I stayed at a funky hotel, saw an amazing Broadway show, ate Chinese and toured the UN (that last being her passion.) I want to do it all again.

 

3. The Winter Carnival in Quebec. As we noted, it's possible to enjoy cold weather when you're out and doing things. Le Carnaval de Québec has some aspects of New Orleans' Mardi Gras: parades, great food and drink, a jolly crowd - but with much less public emesis and nudity. (You can strip down to your bathing suit and take a snow bath with Bonhomme Carnaval, but that takes some real dedication.) Despite living only a five hour drive away - the same distance as New York - I've never been.

4. Kosovo and Albania. Youngest went to Kosovo in the summer of '19, and had so many wonderful experiences, it made me want to see it for myself. And I've been interested in Albania for some years now - the gorgeous Adriatic coast, the food (a delicious blend of Greek, Turkish and southern Slavic influences) and some of the best-preserved Roman sites in all Europe.

 

 

5. The Big Island of Hawaii. Also, not a novel destination. The beaches, Volcanos National Park, the food (oh, lord, the food) the gardens, the history... Hawaii is definitely my happy place.

How about you, dear readers? What destinations are you dreaming of, in the days-to-hopefully-come when we can meet and mingle again?

To Hawaii and Back Again

This is truth the poet sings: That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.

        Alfred, Lord Tenneson; Locksley Hall

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: As I sit here in Maine, writing this, we are expecting a bomb cyclone to turn a regular Nor'easter into a day-long blizzard, with up to fourteen inches expected in my town. After the snow passes, the Polar Vortex descends on us with a vengeance: Saturday's high will be 3F/-16C and the nighttime low is predicted at -20F/-29C. So it is bittersweet that I am here to tell you about my awesome Hawaiian vacation.

 Here are the girls and I about to take off on our flight from Boston. We were somewhat less chipper when we took off from O'Hare at 11pm (midnight, according to our body clocks) and positively staggering when we reached LA at 1:30am PDT (omgwhattimeisit EDT.)

Fortunately, we were traveling with the Sailor, and were able to bunk down at the Bob Hope USO, along with roughly 50% of the US armed forces and their families. Seriously, I slept on yoga mat beneath the piano in the reception area. We bounced back on the long flight to Kailua-Kona, and by the time we arrived we were fully able to appreciate the gorgeous heat and humidity - and the amazing drive to Hilo on the Saddle Road, which rises to over a mile above sea level and traverses the high lava desert between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea.


We stayed on the Puna coast, which- as we were to discover - is the neo-hippie center on the Big Island. You have to go to Burning Man to see more white guy dreadlocks, Indian-print sarongs and nose rings. These free-living souls were a bit underwashed, but kind and accepting. In fact, at one beach a colorful fellow named Benjamin offered me a kiss and a joint. I declined both.

We were staying at a perfect house we had gotten from AirBnB (anyone heading to Hawaii? Email me and I'll hook you up.) It was inside a forest preserve, which in practice meant that every time we drove down the (dirt) road to the place, we felt like we were extras in Jurassic Park. It had a comfortable cabin style second floor and a ground floor that was really the ground - covered in pea gravel and open to the balmy air. I made breakfast and packed lunches every day while the neighbors' chickens wandered through. 



 We took our time and relaxed. We slept late (for different values of late. I would arise at 9:30am, the Youngest would join me around 11, and the Smithie and the Sailor, aka The Creatures of the Night, sometimes didn't make it out of bed until 1pm.) 

I discovered the many delights of traveling with twenty-somethings with real jobs: they each took turns paying for dinner (we intended to eat home-cooking as we did for breakfast and lunch, but somehow every evening we wound up at a restaurant or ordering take-out. They both drove and were both capable of loading the Jeep Wrangler with the necessities for a day out with minimal instruction. (those of you who are parents are impressed, right?)

Youngest was our DJ, as she's the only family member with a Spotify subscription. I honestly think one of the highlights of the trip for her was the chance to wear Lily Pulitzer clothing every single day. 

So what did we do besides sleeping and watching the chickens?



We spent Christmas Eve Day at Volcanoes National Park, where we were able to stand near natural steam vents, see the caldera of Kilauea, the most active volcano in the world, and travel down the Chain of Craters to see the collapsed cones of past volcanoes. They looked ancient, but the entire island is one of the youngest places on the planet, only a million years old.































We went to see The Last Jedi together! I know, go to Hawaii to sit in a cinema? But we all love Star Wars and have been waiting for TLJ, and we wanted to experience it as a family. There were VERY long lines at the only movie theater in Hilo. We missed one night, and came back much earlier the next. Also the girls and I all have massive crushes on Adam Driver. (Mark Hamill is more my age range, but apparently he's been happily married to the same woman for 40 years, so there you go.) 

We had some fabulous meals, including Pacific fish fresh enough to satisfy the most stringent Mainer's taste, grass-fed beef from the Parker Ranch that was so good I may never eat grain-fed beef again. Seriously, we have a lot of grass here in the continental US! Let's use it for better burgers! On Christmas Eve, instead of our traditional Chinese take out, we had...drumroll...Thai take out. And of course we enjoyed many tropical rum drinks. If you can't put the lime in the coconut and drink it all down in Hawaii, where can you?

On Christmas day, the kids were amazed to see Santa had flown their stockings all the way from the mainland and left them stuffed with books and dvds (and pocket-sized hand sanitizers, little tubes of Eucerin, and lip balm. St. Nick believes in prepping for winter weather.)




We spent Christmas Day at a nude-friendly beach. Bet you never thought you'd see me writing that, didja? The girls and I didn't actually know about the clothing-optional aspect until we were there, at which point the Sailor swore he had already informed us. We kept our suits on - mine is a particularly old-New England-lady number with a skirt - and Youngest took her glasses off, so everyone in the distance became a bit blurred. We read our new Christmas books, picnicked on tuna salad sandwiches and leftover Thai food, and swam in the warm Pacific waters. 

You bet we wore sunscreen. The sun can kill you, you know.

We saw the Waipio Valley and the high country beyond it and drove the ridiculously scenic Old Māmalahoa Highway, which climbs and turns past waterfalls, deep chasms and heart-stopping gulches. We visited with old friends who have retired to the island. We shopped for tourist kitsch and lingered through a museum on the geology and history of the island.

My favorite part was on our last day. Our flight wasn't until almost 9pm, so we packed up and picked up in the morning and spent the whole afternoon at the thermal pond in Ahalanui Park. Cool water surged in from the ocean through a winding channel to meet up with hot volcanic spring water. It was the perfect temperature, shallow enough so almost everyone could walk comfortably on the bottom (covered in sand and smooth lava) and the county of Hawaii had improved nature by providing a safe walkway all the way around and rock steps with handrails to get in. 

Here at home, the drains in the downstairs bathroom AND the kitchen have cracked from ice. I'm trickling water into a ten-gallon tub set in the sink, in the hopes we won't lose H2O completely downstairs. When it fills up, I have to empty it off the side of the porch, because the downstairs toilet is frozen. Literally.

Is it any wonder, dear readers, that in my head I'm still floating in the thermal pool, with the sun filtering through palm leaves and a breeze keeping things from getting too hot? I'll rub a little coconut-scented hand lotion on between tossing water into a blizzard, and remember warmer times.

On Mahu Fire

"I love the contrast between light and shadow, metaphorically, good and evil. . . . Graham Greene wrote that there was something about shady characters in sunny places. You're isolated down here, and there's a certain type of person who gravitates to these edge communities. You find the same thing in Hawaii. And I love the cultural mixing we have here, the multicultural melting pot."
Neil Plakcy quoted in the Miami Herald

We're all going to Left Coast Crime in Hawaii, right? Right? Here's the guy who knows all about it.

And we've always wanted to say Book'em, Dano. But we can say it to Neil, because his books are set in Hawaii. (And he's probably really tired of hearing it.)

Neil Plakcy is the author of Mahu, Mahu Surfer, and Mahu Fire, mystery novels which take place in Hawaii. He is co-editor of Paws & Reflect: A Special Bond Between Man and Dog (Alyson Books, 2006) and editor of the gay construction worker erotica anthology, Hard Hats. A journalist, book reviewer and college professor, he is also a frequent contributor to gay anthologies.

On Neils website, http://www.mahubooks.com/ we found this fascinating and useful stuff.

Lolo means crazy in Hawai'ian. Mahu means gay.

As you might know, every syllable in a Hawai'ian word must end in a vowel. Neil says he's sure that this, plus the fact that there are only fourteen letters in the Hawai'ian alphabet, was a real challenge to the first missionaries, who sought to translate the Bible into the native language. And here's what you really need toknow: By using the next available letter, and adding vowels to the ends of syllables, "Merry Christmas" became "Mele Kalikimaka." Now you can go to Hawaii at Christmas.

How intimately do you know your characters? Neil's been thinking about this...and wants us to, too. Welcome, Neil!

Recently, my friend Nancy Cohen sent me some character development tools she’d built to help her with her Bad Hair Day mysteries. The tools asked a lot of questions about your characters, things like their favorite speech phrase, ruling passion, and dominant trait.

It was all interesting, especially thinking about the dominant trait, which Nancy defines as a non-physical adjective + decision-making noun–i.e. protective guardian, charming nuisance, compassionate caretaker, restless homemaker. I feel that if you’re going to write about a character, at least a main character such as the protagonist or antagonist, you should know this stuff.

When I was discussing this with Christine Kling, who has written four mysteries about tugboat operator Seychelle Sullivan, she sent me an even more detailed list of questions to ask, including things like the character’s body language and mannerisms, birth order, diet, grooming, and romantic history.

It’s all great—but it didn’t help me when I got my favorite (so far, at least) question from a reader. He’d read my first two mysteries (Mahu and Mahu Surfer) and wanted to know if my protagonist, Honolulu homicide detective Kimo Kanapa’aka, had a hairy body.
I’ll bet the big names in literature and mystery don’t get that kind of question. (Well, maybe Janet Evanovich does.)

It made me stop and think. You can fill out all the character questionnaires you want—but how intimately do we really know our characters? And how intimately do we need to? Should we know everything about them before we start to write? Or is writing about someone the same as starting to date someone—a process of getting to know them?

Of course, no matter how long you and your character (or your significant other) are together, there’s always something new to learn. In my case, I sat down to consider my fan’s questions. Kimo is part Hawai’ian, part Japanese, and part haole, or white. Since neither the Hawai’ians nor the Japanese are known for much body hair, there was my answer. Kimo’s pretty smooth. I didn’t want to totally alienate that fan, though, so I assumed he’d have a little hair here and there.

Since I’m writing about Kimo’s coming out process as well as his investigation of the cases, sex does play a part in the books. In describing his first experiences, Kimo says that denying his attraction to other men was like standing outside a candy store with his nose pressed against the glass. Once he accepted himself for who he was, he was able to open the door to that candy store and start sampling the wares.

So I guess I do need to get more intimate with him, and I’m glad that my fan raised that question for me to consider. The results may never show up on the page, but at asking and answering those questions helps me get to know Kimo better. Going back to those character questions that Chris and Nancy gave me, I’m still working on figuring out what his most treasured object is. Maybe that will show up in the next book.

Not so fast, Neil. Before we say aloha, Time to take: the Jungle Red Quiz!

Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot?
Miss Marple

Sex or violence?
Sex!

Pizza or chocolate?
Chocolate

Daniel Craig or Pierce Brosnan? (We won't even include Sean Connery because we know the answer. Don't we?)
Pierce Brosnan

Katherine Hepburn or Audrey Hepburn?
That's a tough one. Audrey, I guess.

First person or Third Person?
First person

Prologue or no prologue?
Prologue. Sometimes you have to set the scene before the story starts.

Making dinner or making reservations?
Making dinner (and dessert.)

And Finally: The Jungle Red Stump Your Readers Quiz:
Tell us four things about you that no one knows. Only three can be true. We'll guess.

My "nom de porn" is Dirk Strong
I am a very distant descendant of the Russian royal family
Only as an adult did I discover that my father's nickname for me, Noodnik, meant 'pest' in Yiddish.
I was "Mr. Flag" in my second-grade class play and sang "You're A Grand Old Flag" to thunderous applause.

JRW: Oh, Neil, we hope you were really Mr. Flag....and we demand to see the photos.

And by the way, Aloha nui oe.

Tomorrow: Another wonderful author! And this one: hunted rats on a first date! Some fun.

And she'll--oops! a clue--will be giving away a free book or two!