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NOTES FROM JOAN -- July 2007 Gentle Readers: Well, it’s been a rocky couple of months. I turned in MUMMY DEAREST in a reasonably timely fashion, and headed north to meet Dorothy Cannell for our invasion of Michigan. We were scheduled to meet in the Detroit airport. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and mystery writers. Her supposedly direct flight was canceled, naturally, and chaos ensued. Barbara Mertz kept her composure and handled the Damage Control Center as Dorothy and I left each other messages for six hours. I did have enough sense to rent a car with GPS, since we had no maps or directions the entire trip. A rather stern voice I named Monique did her best to navigate us, although she was not attuned to new highway construction. Minnesota may be the land of 10,000 lakes, but Michigan is surely the land of 10,000 orange cones and closed exit ramps. Whenever we were obliged to ignore Monique's increasingly frantic directions to turn, there was a slightly acerbic edge to her voice as she said, “Recalculating.” In May I did not go to Malice, for reasons mentioned in the previous newsletters. (If you didn't read it, don’t worry about it.) I did go to Mertz Manor in Maryland for the annual post-conference house party, and had a lovely time with Ms. Mertz, Joe and Margaret Maron, Dorothy and Julian Cannell, Parnell Hall, Sue Dunlap, Nancy Pickard, and Daniel Stashower. Conversation was witty, even while sipping beverages in the gazebo. It’s always entertaining to talk about people not present, as well as politics, literature, and the decline of civilized society. It had an unnerving resemblance to such a gathering in a traditional British mystery, but there were no corpses left buried in the rose garden (as far as I know). I spent the last two weeks of the month in Florida, near Tampa. The condo was on a lagoon, with the Caribbean beyond it. My daughter and I watched dolphins from our deck, and went to a state park to see manatees and a lonely hippopotamus. I read a great deal, which was nice since I read very little when I’m working on a book. Which now I am, by the way, when I’m not composing sarcastic comments about cover sketches for MUMMY DEAREST. I have what’s called “cover consultation,” a far cry from “cover control.” Expect to see pyramids on the cover, although there’s not a single one in the book. I rarely win these skirmishes. Remind me to have the clout of Stephen King or Mary Higgins Clark in my next life – or at least the sales figures. The book-in-progress is THE MERRY WIVES OF MAGGODY. It’s nice to go back after several years. Arly has a tough decision to make, and so does Ruby Bee when someone from her past arrives in town. Mrs. Jim Bob has decided that Maggody should host a charity golf tournament to raise money for golf widows. It will not go well, but nothing ever does in Maggody, does it?
Regards,
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