Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring - The Mammogram!

The winner of THE LESSONS WE LEARN by Liz Milliron is C.D. Moulton, and the winners of BATTER OFF DEAD by Maddie Day are Pat D. and Alicia. Contact me at Julia Spencer Fleming (all one word) at Google mail, and I'll hook you up!

 

 

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Yes, today's title refers to the Bananaphone song, which was a longtime favorite on my mother, who liked to hold a banana against her ear and say, "I can't hear you, I've got a banana in my ear." Good times. We always used to sing the song - substituting "the mammogram" for the edible handset - when one or the other of us was talking about, well, mammograms.

 

 

No, this isn't Breast Cancer Awareness month (October, if you don't remember football players wearing pink stuff,) and guys, this post is for you, too. You can remind the women in your life to schedule their appointments, and you can learn how to do a simple breast examination - yes, you! It's fun and helpful; just about a year ago, my daughter's boyfriend noticed she had something that didn't feel quite right in her embonpoint, and she had it checked out. Thankfully, it was just a harmless cyst... but what if it hadn't been? He could have saved her life.

 

 

 

 

 

Here's the thing - caught early, when tumors are still localized, breast cancer has a 99% five-year survival rate. I'm pretty sure those are better odds than my survival rate if I keep living through Maine winters. (Someday I'm going to totter down the ice-covered driveway and whoops! They won't find my body until spring.) Forty-five years ago, that survival rate was only 74%. Thousands of women are living as breast cancer survivors instead of dying as breast cancer victims because of early screening. 

 

And mammograms are available to everyone. The ACA mandates that all insurance plans include a free screening mammogram every one or two years for women over the age of 40. Which, let's be honest, is probably most of the readership of this blog. If you're low income or uninsured, yep, there are plans and places for you to get checked out as well. I'm not yet eligible for that sweet, sweet socialized medicine ( I wish!) but both Medicaid and Medicare have extremely generous coverage.

 

 

Now, I realize a mammogram isn't the most fun thing to do on your average day. Nobody calls up their girlfriends to say, "Hey, gal, lets go grab a mammogram and lunch!" And there are people who just don't want to know, in the same way little kids hide under the blankets with the idea that if they can't see the scary thing under the bed, it can't see them. 

 

But as someone who sat with a loved one through two rounds of cancer treatment, I can promise you that nothing - not the discomfort, not the fear of "finding out," not the weirdness of having a nice lady named Cheryl maneuver your boobs around while talking about her childcare difficulties - is as uncomfortable, scary and weird as surgery and chemo/radiation/immuno therapy. And if you do have a positive test? If there's a problem? The sooner you get to that alarming and strange medical treatment, the more likely you are to be one of that awesome 99% survival statistic. 

So, dear readers, check your calendar, check in with your doctor, and if you're overdue for a mammogram, make that appointment today. Be sure to remember to sing the Mammogram song - Cheryl will definitely appreciate it.
 

The Perils of Pantsing, a guest blog by Maddie Day/Edith Maxwell

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: What can I say about the Agatha-nominated, incredibly prolific Maddie Day, especially since, as Edith Maxwell, she's a long-time and well-loved member of our Jungle Red community. 

I always assumed Maddie/Edith was a disciplined outliner when it came to writing her books, since she routinely has several books out each year and her short stories are regularly featured in anthologies. Other highly productive authors I know are confirmed plotters, and to be frank, this makes me feel better, because it gives me an excuse for taking sooooo long to write my own books. Because I write by the seat of my pants.

Imagine my chagrin in discovering Maddie doesn't have a set plan when she sits down to write! Another rational gone by the wayside. Maddie, how could you do this to me?

 

 

Hi. My name is Maddie, and I’m a pantser. There, I said it.

 

But first, thank you to Julia for hosting me on the front side of the blog. It’s always an honor and a delight to flip onto the main page and be able to celebrate a new book – my twenty-seventh! – with the Reds and all my fellow regular commenters.

 

When I started writing my first book-length mystery back in 1994, I knew nothing. I’d never studied creative writing. Was clueless about point of view. Had no idea about pacing. And nobody ever told me I should plot out my book ahead of time. Anyway, the word “outline” would have conjured nightmares of high school and those nested Roman numerals and letters that were supposed to summarize an essay or article. I still shudder at the thought.

 

So I plunged in and began to write a mystery set on an organic farm, start to finish. Except I got about two-thirds through the story and realized I had no idea which of my suspects was the bad guy. I also didn’t know how to decide. I was reading exclusively mysteries at the time – by Sue Grafton, Katherine Hall Page, Sara Paretsky, Diane Mott Davidson, and others (sorry, Debs, your books weren’t on my radar until you joined this blog) – but I didn’t understand how to finish my own.

 

Life got in the way, and I didn’t return to that story until eighteen years later. I proposed the premise of the unfinished book as the first in my Local Foods Mysteries and landed a three-book contract with Kensington. A Tine to Live, a Tine to Die was my second published mystery in 2013. I guest-posted about the farming life – and writing full time – right here back in 2014.

 

Fast forward again to when I turned in No Grater Crime, the ninth Country Store Mystery, which released last summer (I was a guest here for that release, too). My editor at Kensington read the manuscript. Toward the end, police lieutenant Buck Bird casually mentions that his mother had been murdered when he was a teenager.

 

 

 

My editor said he assumed I added that bit because I would be addressing the old (and unsolved) murder in the following book.

 

“Yes, John, of course,” I wrote back. What? I hadn’t dropped that little bombshell on purpose. But this is what happens when, like me, you follow your characters around and write down what they do, say, and think.

 

And address it, I did. When your editor is the top dog at the publishing house, it’s prudent to heed his suggestion. In fact, it was a quite good one.

 

Also, I’m never going to be an outliner. Just saying.

 

Readers: What suggestion has someone given you that turned out well? Do you have advisors whom you smile at, say thank you, and disregard completely? Writers: Where do you fall on the pantser-plotter continuum?

 

I’d love to send two commenters a signed copy of Batter Off Dead, which came out two days ago.

 

In South Lick, Indiana, fine foods and classic cookware can be found at Robbie Jordan’s Pans ’N Pancakes. Unfortunately, her country store also seems to stock up on murder . . .

 

Robbie and her new husband Abe O’Neill are enjoying a summer evening in the park with fellow townsfolk excited for some Friday night fireworks. In attendance are senior residents from Jupiter Springs Assisted Living including Roy Bird, father to South Lick’s very own Police Lieutenant Buck Bird. Despite his blindness, Roy is a member of his group home’s knitting circle, spending quality time with some lovely ladies.

 

But when the lightshow ends, one of the knitters who sat with Roy is found dead, a puncture wound in her neck. The poor woman’s death echoes that of Buck’s mother and Roy’s wife—an unsolved homicide. To help find the killer, Robbie’s going to have to untangle the knotty relationships deep in the victim’s past . . .

 

Maddie Day pens the Country Store Mysteries and Cozy Capers Book Group Mysteries. As Agatha Award-winning author Edith Maxwell, she writes the Quaker Midwife Mysteries, the Local Foods Mysteries, and short crime fiction. Day/Maxwell lives with her beau north of Boston, where she writes, gardens, cooks, and wastes time on Facebook. Find her at EdithMaxwell.com, wickedauthors.com, Mystery Lovers’ Kitchen, and on social media:

Twitter

Facebook

Instagram

Making it to the End...of Winter, a guest blog by Liz Milliron

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Jungle Red Writers has been around since 2007 (Yes! Our fifteenth anniversary is coming up on March 22nd!) and one of the things we're proudest of has been the number of folks in our commenting community who have gone on to become published writers. One of them is Liz Milliron. If you hang around the backblog, you already know what a sharp, funny writer she is, and if you haven't tried her Home Town mysteries, set in the early days of World War Two in Buffalo, NY, you're in for a treat. One lucky commentor will win a copy of her latest book, THE LESSONS WE LEARN!

Now I have a particular affinity for this series, because my family moved to Syracuse when I was fifteen, and I spent the next six years learning to endure love Lake Effect Snow. Winter lasts a looooong time in Syracuse and Buffalo, and you'd think those of us who grow up there and move away would choose Arizona or Florida, but no, we wind up in places like Maine (me) and Pennsylvania (Liz.) Maybe it's because we've honed our winter survival skills, several of which Liz shares with us today.

 

 

 

Thanks, Julia – and all the Reds – for having me back on the front of the blog. It’s always nice to step around the “curtain.”

I remember a cartoon about winter; I’ve seen it a few times. The first panel is all bright lights, happy snowmen, and sparkles. The caption reads, “Winter before Christmas – a happy, magical season.” The second panel is the same snowman looking a little worse for wear. The sky is gray, there are no sparkly lights. The caption reads, “Winter from January on – a great big gray ball of suck.”

Readers, we are in the suck.

As I type this, on February 16, it is eleven degrees (that’s Fahrenheit, for those of you outside the U.S.). The projected high is 37. Last week at this time, it was single digits. Around Thursday, it went to 60. It’ll be back up to 60 by Thursday the 17^th. Then back down. Then up.

You get the picture. In other words: Go home, Mother Nature. You’re drunk.

At least the sun is out. So there’s that.

The groundhog promised six more weeks of winter, but honestly? There’s always six more weeks of winter here in southwestern PA. This is the worst time. When spring teases, but we know there’s a bit more to go.

To combat the feeling of, “Can’t it just be over already?” I offer a list of good things about winter. This list is in no particular order because honestly? The order changes depending on my mood.

1. Roaring fires

We fire up the wood stove in November. But it really proves it’s worth right around now.

Not only does the stove provide warmth, it changes the entire atmosphere of the house. Things are cozier, more hospitable. Plus, the fire is entertainment. You aren’t just sitting staring off into space, you’re “watching the fire.”

 

 

 

 

2. Snow zoomies

Okay, this one isn’t mine. I don’t zoom at any time of year, especially not in the snow. But Koda looks like he’s having fun.

When he came to us from Florida, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the cold and the white stuff. Clearly, he’s had a change of heart. Not my idea of fun, running barefoot in the snow, but hey, he likes cutting it up and throwing snow everywhere. Bonus: I don’t have to wash mud off of his feet (and the rest of him) like I do in the spring.

 

 

 

3. Hot chocolate

Another thing that can be enjoyed practically any time. Although something’s a little off about drinking hot chocolate in July, at least to me.

I convinced The Hubby to spend a little and invest in these not-really-fancy-but-with-some-interesting-flavors cocoas. Choices include mint, caramel, cinnamon, Irish crème, double-chocolate, and salted caramel. We’re partial to the cinnamon.

 

 

 

 

4. New workspace

I love my work nook in the sunroom. The windows are big, I get a lot of light (even when the sun is hiding) and I can watch the wildlife. However, somewhere around mid-January, when we were stuck in a long string of days when the high temperature didn’t reach double-digits, I went to The Hubby and said, “I can’t take it.” Even the space heater was not enough.

Bless his heart, he helped me disconnect all the cables and we moved my desk into a corner of the dining room, right under the secondary heating unit (which is also our A/C, but I digress). It’s very comfortable. The bathroom is farther away, but the kitchen is closer. It’s a trade I’m willing to make in exchange for not freezing my tuchus off.

 

 

5. Cozy reading nook

This is another thing that can be enjoyed year ‘round, if I’m being honest. But in warm months I prefer reading on the front porch or in the sunroom. This space is built for winter.

A comfortable chair, a thick fleecy throw, a footstool, a table for my cup of hot chocolate (see #3 above) or tea, surrounded by books. There’s even a space for Koda. What more can you want when outside feels like the dark side of the moon?

 

 

 

6. Bubble baths

Okay, okay. Lists are supposed to end on five, or ten, or twenty – you get the picture. But I couldn’t resist throwing this in.

No, I am not going to show you a picture of me in the bathtub. You’re welcome. But there is nothing like being submersed to your chin in hot water and lavender-scented bubbles on a cold night. We have a reasonably deep claw foot tub, although it’s not quite long enough to stretch out. Regardless, I take a cup of tea, a book, and, well, see you in a couple hours.

There you have it. My attempt at making the best of a dreary season. I’d love to hear what gets you through the cold, dark, dank days of winter. (Come back in August and I’ll be listing the things that get me through the hot, humid, dog days of summer. Where is that place in the world where it’s always sunny and 70, with a playful breeze?)

THE LESSONS WE LEARN

March 1943. As the Buffalo winter ends, the father of Betty Ahern’s friend, Lee Tillotson, disappears. At first his absence is a relief, providing Lee, his mother and sisters refuge from the man’s frequent drunken rages. But when Mr. Tillotson is discovered drowned in the Buffalo River and the police charge Lee with the murder, the family’s newfound peace shatters.

Worse, Lee becomes secretive and unwilling to cooperate with Betty or the police. Betty is certain of Lee’s innocence, but there she has very little time to investigate before he must enter his plea in court. To prove Lee’s innocence, Betty digs into Mr. Tillotson’s life, discovering a seamy and dangerous underside to Mr. Tillotson, and to Buffalo itself. With time running out, Betty soon learns who her friends really are, how much Lee loves his family and friends and is loved in return, and just how far the corruption leaking from Buffalo’s City Hall has reached. But can she prove Lee’s innocence before it’s too late?

Liz Milliron is the author of The Laurel Highlands Mysteries series, set in the scenic Laurel Highlands of Southwestern Pennsylvania, and The Homefront Mysteries, set in Buffalo, NY during the early years of World War II. She is a member of Sisters in Crime, Pennwriters, and International Thriller Writers. A recent empty-nester, Liz lives outside Pittsburgh with her husband and a retired-racer greyhound. You can find out more about her and her writing at her website, friend her on Facebook, and follow her on Instagram.