Mitchell and Webb say Watch Your Language

 My favorite British sketch comedians are back with  some advice for office workers.

Schrodinger's Finalist

 

"Well, Mickey, it's an exciting day here in Robert Lopresti's house."

"It sure is, Ray.  Maybe we better tell the people why."

"Good idea.  This is the morning of May first, when the winners of the Derringer Awards are announced.  And as you know, Lopresti has been nominated for best novella."

"Which of his stories was that for, Ray?"

"'Christmas Dinner.'"

"That's right! I believe it was his third story about Delgardo, the beatnik detective--"

"Beat poet, Mickey.  The character hates being called a beatnik."

"Right you are, Ray. And we are here waiting to find out whether Lopresti won the Award or bombed.  Say, isn't he usually awake by now?"

"I believe he is."

"So why is he sleeping late on today of all days?"

"Maybe because this is the big day.  I mean, he might be the winner or he might not.  As long as he doesn't check his mail you might say both states are possible. (Chuckle.) Sort of like Schrodinger's cat."

"I've always felt bad about that cat.  Somebody ought to call the Humane Society."

"There was never a real cat, Mickey.  It's just-- Wait! Here he is. Lopresti has left the bedroom.  I see he has his phone in his hand and he's scrolling down the screen."

"The suspense is incredible, Ray.  When is he going to--"

"And there it is!  You can see it in his face.  That's a man who just lost."

"You know what he'll say, Ray.  It's an honor just to be nominated."

"That's true, it is. What's he doing now?"

"It looks like, yes, he's making a cup of tea.  That's quite a bold move."

"What do you mean, Mickey?"

"If I had just lost I would be drinking bourbon."

"At seven o'clock in the morning? Are you out of your--  Well, never mind.  Go in and interview him."

"Right.  Will do.  This is exclusive, folks. The first interview after the big loss.  Excuse me, Rob, I wonder if you have a few minutes--"

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"I'm a fictional construct."

"Oh. Another one. I swear, I'm gonna hire an exterminator."

"The fans were hoping for your thought on losing the Derringer Award."

 "Were they? Okay.  It's an honor just to be a finalist."

"I thought you were going to say to be a nominee."

"The Short Mystery Fiction Society tries to avoid that word, because any member or editor can submit a story for consideration. Some people call that a 'nomination,' which leads to all kinds of confusion."

"I see. But about your losing, that must be a great disappointment."

"Well, sure, I'd rather win -- which I have three times, by the way -- but I am delighted that Stacy Woodson, a friend and fellow SleuthSayer, took the prize. She turned in a great story. There's no shame in losing to the best."

"That's very big of you."

"Thanks. Oh, and don't forget that the SleuthSayers book Murder, Neat won the Best Anthology prize, and that's pretty special.  And I found out today a story I submitted was accepted for the New Orleans Bouchercon anthology."

"So, you aren't retiring."

"Hell, no."

"And what's next for Robert Lopresti?"

 "Tea. Probably a Danish, too."

"And after that?"

"I have to write a SleuthSayers essay for next Wednesday."

"What will it be about?"

"No clue.  I'll think of something."

"And there he goes, folks. A true professional.  With a Danish. It's apricot, I think. Back to you in the studio, Ray."

And the Derringer Goes To…

As you may have already learned, Murder, Neat: A SleuthSayers Anthology (Level Short, 2024), which I co-edited with Barb Goffman, earlier this month received the Short Mystery Fiction Society’s inaugural Derringer Award for Best Anthology.

Unlike some of my colleagues, I don’t view an anthology award as an editor’s award; I think of it as similar to the Academy Award for Best Picture, in that it requires the work of an entire team of people—editors and writers, primarily, but the publisher as well—to succeed.

In the case of Murder, Neat, we had quite a team. SleuthSayers, as a group, selected the theme, and Paul Marks had barely begun work as the original editor before illness sidelined him. Barb and I stepped in, solicited and selected stories, and worked with all the contributors to create the final manuscript.

We were working without a net. There was no publisher attached to the project—the first and only time I’ve edited an anthology on spec!—and we pitched the finished manuscript to a handful of publishers.

Verena Rose and Shawn Reilly Simmons of Level Best Books stepped up, and Murder, Neat launched Level Short, the publisher’s new imprint specifically for anthologies.

The end result, as we recently learned, is an award-winning anthology.

So, thanks to my fellow SleuthSayers for all you did to make our group’s first anthology a success!

SLEUTHFEST AND SHORTCON

A hurricane postponed last year’s SleuthFest in St. Petersburg, Florida, and the conference was rescheduled to May 15-18. At 4:00 p.m. Thursday, I’ll present “Writing Short: How to establish and maintain a long-term career as a writer of short crime fiction.” This is a variation of my presentation at last year’s ShortCon, and I provide invaluable information about the business side of writing and publishing short stories.

Speaking of ShortCon, the one-day conference for writers of short mystery fiction returns Saturday, June 7, for its sophomore outing at Elaine’s in Alexandria, Virginia. In addition to presentations by SJ Rozan (“Short Fiction—What’s the Point?”) and Jeffrey Marks (“Crafting Your First Collection”), I’ll present “Writing for Anthologies: How to Slip Between the Covers” and Stacy Woodson will lead an end-of-day panel discussion with all the presenters. ShortCon is limited to 50 attendees and was approaching sellout the last time I saw the registration numbers, so register now if you wish to attend.

Stand up for your rights.

There’s no topic more likely to enflame people than the First Amendment.  That’s because it protects free speech, and thus the freedom to write what you wish. But there are limits that have been imposed by law over the years, and not everyone agrees on what those limits should be. 

            A classic example is the freedom to yell fire in a crowded theater. That’s just the beginning.

            I’m not going to get into all the exceptions, because it would take up the whole essay, but suffice it to say there’s a lot of speech, and written expression, that’s not protected.   Most people would agree that these limits are necessary and common sense, and thus we have prohibitions against slander and libel, hate speech and incitements to violence, though even those charges have to be proven in court, and not easily. 

            I worked in advertising and was once informed by a commercial speech attorney (the most prominent in the country, I’ll have you know) that the truth was an absolute defense against a libel charge.  Consequently, I was able to use the name of a branded product in a print ad because I simply stated something about the product the company itself had published (the list price of a new Porsche).  There was no defamation or disparagement.  Just the facts, ma’am.

            He also told me on another occasion that I could use a photo my wife took of a house, without permission, as part of a book cover design.  As long as I didn’t make a claim that the owners were doing something illegal I couldn’t prove, like running meth out the backdoor, I could do it, since it’s not against the law to use a photo of a house.

            My lawyer friend makes clear that political speech and commercial speech are different in the eyes of the law, and commercial speech is where most rules against slander and libel are enforced.

            Political speech has a much higher bar, which is why Trump and his sycophants can lie through their teeth every second of every day and be immune from prosecution, but copywriters and publishers have to be more careful.

            This is why I’ve always changed the names of restaurants and retail stores easily identified by people who live in the Hamptons, where most of my books are set.  And never use the real names of characters I’ve lifted directly from life.

            The likelihood of a lawsuit is beyond distant,but why take the chance.  No publisher wants that kind of exposure and I don’t blame them. When I worked as an editor, I made this point to a writer who insisted on naming an actual company, unfavorably, in his novel.  We said sorry, we won’t publish you.

            As a fiction writer, the possibility of getting into legal trouble is about as remote as it can get.  Your publisher will know if you’ve drifted into dangerous territory and will advise you accordingly.

            If you’re self-published, I’d run your book by someone like my lawyer friend.  The odds are very low you’ll have to make changes, but they’re not zero.

            In this political environment, legal dangers have increased, for sure. Especially for non-fiction writers.  Ironically, fiction writers can portray a public figure committing all sorts of venal and carnal sins, and be fine as long as his or her identity is disguised behind a change of name and light variation in circumstances. But if you’re representing this as truth in nonfiction, and you can’t prove it, be careful.

        

            Hysteria has begun to set in within the arts community, and I don’t blame anyone.  There are real threats to our freedom of expression. But as for now, the First Amendment is holding, and we have a responsibility to exercise it with abandon. The worst thing would be to self-censure for no good reason because of reckless threats from the benighted and dictatorial.

            I’m not a lawyer. I might be wrong about some of the things I’ve written here. I’m just sharing my experience.  Yours might be different.  So please, consult an actual attorney if you have any concerns at all about your work.

How to Dye Your Husband

Wifey Sympath-O-Meter
aka Wheel of Misfortune

I’m just Wild about Hairy

The other day, a good friend who admits her taste in men is deeply flawed, told the funniest story in her best deadpan style. Husband № 3 was ‘hair-challenged’, i.e, balding. He believed dying his hair and eyebrows jet black would make it seem he had more, fuller hair. The opposite appears to be true, but he didn’t know.

Instead of asking for advice and assistance (thus acknowledging characteristic presence of Y chromosomes), he attempted the process by himself. Soon enough, his wife heard him yelling and cursing.

Yes, boys and girls, he had dyed his flesh. His entire forehead had taken on the complexion of a Goodyear tire.

In times like this, I picture an often brutal Wheel-of-Fortune^® device called the Wifey-Sympath-O-Meter™ where ‘sympath’ may relate more to ‘symple and pathetic’ than sympathy. Wifey wheel segments might contain such phrases as: “You poor thing,” to deep Southern “Bless his heart,” to Great Northern “You nincompoop!” As if pretending it mitigates the sting, we even hear foreign phrases, such as the French inspired “nicodème,” which means, well, nincompoop, or the German “dummkopf,” literally dumbhead.

Nitrogenic Mustard Gas Formula
The situation was more dire than they realized.
Chlorine and ammonia were principal ingredients
in WW-I’s chemical warfare compound, the
vesicant (blister agent) nitrogenic mustard gas.
Naïve housekeepers have died mixing the two.

Doofus husband begged his darling to google for a solution. Unbeknownst to her, he didn't wait. A man of ill-considered action instead of patience, he applied household bleach.

Meanwhile, Google found a couple of dye removal suggestions combining ammonia and an oil. She returned and started rubbing the oleaginous solution on his head, whereupon a sizzling “Sssssssss” and a scream rent the atmosphere. The concoctions chemically reacted into a substance resembling battery acid.

God love her. At one point, she was working on future ex-husband № 5, but may have reconsidered. She’s now found a guy who treats her well and has a full head of hair.

In the meantime, may crime lovers carefully mind their household chemicals, especially in the presence of those with uncluttered minds, who have less in their heads than on it.

Well, That's a Different Story

  

Like most writers who've been at it for a while, I've gravitated toward certain kinds of stories. I wander off the path pretty regularly--any route you follow too often gets old--but I find that most of my stories these days involve (1) mystery/suspense, (2) a Southern setting, (3) a protagonist who's a regular, average person, (4) a handful of named characters (no more than four or five), (5) either a murder or a robbery, (6) a third-person POV, and (7) a plot with at least a couple of twists.

If you consider two of my latest published stories, you'd find all these elements, but you'd have to look at both to find them all. Each story veers some distance away from my norm, and that's something I didn't even realize or think about while it was being written. I only noticed it later.

Here's what I mean.

My latest story in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine went on sale a few weeks ago--"Heading West" appears in their May/June 2025 issue. In some ways, that story fits right into my comfort zone: mystery /crime, robbery, less than half a dozen named characters, third-person viewpoint, several plot reversals, etc. But in other ways I varied the template a bit. For one thing, this story is set in the Old West, which I have done often in the past but rarely at AHMM. Out of my 28 stories there, two have been Westerns.

NOTE 1: A quick word about writing in the Western genre. I've often heard writers say they like to do mystery stories because those always contain a crime. Why's that important? Because a crime story means conflict is already there--it's built right in--and we all know that conflict makes for a good story (usually the more the better). I think the same can be said of Westerns. Almost every Western story I can think of, except maybe Old Yeller, contains gunfights and violence of some shape or another, so . . . well, you see my point.

This story also contains some conflict that goes behind human vs. human. Much of the agony in "Heading West" is human vs. nature. Not only the rough environment, but the gradual buildup and arrival of a powerful tornado. (Living where I do, I know a bit about tornadoes, and the one in this story scores a 10 on the Wizard-of-Oz scale.) When you mix a terrible storm with a band of crazed outlaws who want to kill your protagonists, that makes things tough for the home team. It also makes things fun for the writer. If you happen to read the story, I hope you'll have half as good a time as I did, writing it.

The other recent publication I wanted to mention is my story "Redwood Creek" in Michael Bracken's anthology Sleuths Just Wanna Have Fun: Private Eyes in the Materialistic Eighties (Down & Out Books). It appeared about the same time as my new AHMM story did, and features 13 other stories, each of them based on something memorable from that decade. I picked (naturally) "Movies of the '80s," so I dutifully made sure the early clues to the identity of the villain came directly from the movies that won Oscars for Best Picture, Best Actor, etc., during those ten years. Putting together a plot puzzle based on Academy Awards trivia turned out to be great fun. 

Some of the things (besides the 1980s theme) that made this story a bit different from most of my creations were that it was a PI story (I don't write a great many of those); it featured 16 named characters, which is a lot for a 5100-word story; its crime was a dognapping; and it was written in first person. As for POV, I've actually found myself writing more first-person stories than I once did, especially if there's a detective working a case that I want him/her to solve along with the reader.

I also made sure my private eye was far different from the Spenser/Mannix/Spade/Marlowe stereotype. Here's an early paragraph from the story:

    My name, by the way, is Ryan Grant, and I'm a retired private investigator. I was not, however, a movies-and-novels kind of PI. No downtown office with a bourbon bottle in the desk drawer for me, no pebbled-glass window in the door, no ceiling fan, no overflowing ashtray. I didn't even smoke. For twenty years I worked out of an office that was once the guest bedroom in our home while my college-professor wife earned most of our income. I was a liberated man.

NOTE 2: Another different--and, to me, special--thing about this particular anthology is that all the other contributors are friends that I've met in person or via Zoom. That doesn't happen often, and makes me look forward even more to reading all their stories.

How about the rest of you? Do you find yourself leaning toward the same kinds of stories, the more you write? Do you find yourself breaking the mold now and then? When you do, how much do you vary your settings, plots, POVs, characters, etc.? Do you ever hop from one genre to the other, or mix them up? How often? Has that been successful? Let me know, in the comments section below.  

As for me, several more "unusual" shorts are coming up later in May--but, hey, that's a different story.

See you then.

More Musical Legal Advice

Here are those Texas attorneys, Hutson and Harris, back with more legal advice. (Do they hire new associates based on what instruments they play?)