Life of a Writer. #16. Reading mysteries!

Well, yes, you'd think to read mysteries would make sense in that I'm writing one. Or for many writers, it would be the time to stop reading the work of others so that one could concentrate and focus on their own book. I go back and forth between the two, either immersing myself in the work of a specific writer and trying to figure out not the solution to the particular mystery, but the techniques the writer has used to write it. Or I am writing and suddenly something flows because I think I have picked up a clue in the latest read, perhaps about structure. Or about character. Or perhaps something about police protocol.

In any case, the two writers I am reading at the moment are Donna Leon with her series set in Venice with Commissario Guido  Brunetti as the police investigator. One comes to like Guido and his family, to appreciate his perceptions of Venetian society, the Mafia, art. To enjoy his relationships with the various members of his family. I am also getting to know Charlie Salter in the mystery series of Eric Wright, an English born Toronto author. I confess I thought writing a mystery would be simpler than it is, knowing I had written other types of novels. But although one needs to develop a plot in any novel (or in most other than totally experimental ones), that aspect in a mystery is paramount. And certain aspects have to present themselves fairly quickly, almost as if a convention demands it. There must be a crime, usually a murder. Or more than one crime. There must be a victim or victims. Potential suspects. And a central character, likely the detective.

All of this probably appears fairly obvious, but although I might be able to analyze a mystery, I have not been able yet to create enough suspense at the beginning to sustain interest. Nor to find that I focus soon enough (whatever that is!) on a central character who will carry the weight of most of the plot. Only gradually have I recognized the need to make my detective, Alistair Cosser, the central character. So I have introduced him in the first chapter in my latest revision. I no longer have a prologue. And I am trying to figure out how to include the characters I was developing and not lose their unique perspectives while Alistair's point of view (pov) predominates. An ongoing challenge.

For now, I will only say...stay tuned! More to follow.

Life of a Writer: #15. Exploring Sedona, Arizona

So, another adventure, another journey, this time to the beautiful city of Sedona in the red rock peaks of Arizona. I went with a friend, Sally, to a Road Scholar program in this location. We spent our nights in the same place and went for trips and/or lectures each day to learn about the geology of the area, the culture of the Hopi, and took also a spectacular ride on the Verde Canyon Railroad. The highlight was naturally enough a trip to the Grand Canyon. How exciting to see such spectacular scenery again so soon after my journey to Morocco.

Life of a Writer. #14. Writer as Reader (continued). Sweet Tooth.

The latest book I've read was Ian McEwan's Sweet Tooth.  It seemed a peculiar title for an Ian McEwan book, but then the vast array of topics he has taken on is amazing. So why not something about my own struggle with a sweet tooth. Mine, of course, is mundane and refers only to the fact that if there is dessert or candy or something sweet around, I will eat it. The rationale is that if I get rid of it, no matter how much there is, it will be gone. Then it won't be able to tempt me. Yes, really! I used to think it wasn't such a bad thing, nothing like drug or alcohol addiction. Or smoking. But what a delusion, sugar being one of the main culprits in many diseases. So, I don't buy sweets and if I have them when I'm out, I am able to stick to one serving. 

You weren't interested in that diversion, I'm sure, so back to the book. It was the title that had me take a sidetrack. Maybe it will have that effect on you also.  Until you find yourself caught up in McEwan's literate prose and clever plotting, in the foibles of his characters. And the actual meaning of Sweet Tooth, a code name at M15 for an intelligence project given to the main character to carry out. The novel is told from her point of view, a young woman who seems to walk into situations rather than go looking for them. I was intrigued and kept reading, which you will also have to do to discover the intricate plotting and conclusion in another display of exquisite writing by McEwan. Yes, another good read. Another coup for McEwan who never ceases to amaze with his versatility.

Even so, I found the book just a bit too clever in a way that seems to create distance from the characters rather than a sense of compassion for them.  But that's me! Draw your own conclusions.

Another book to read. 'The City's Gates' by Peter Dube.

I recommend Peter Dube's  The City's Gates. Intriguing novel set in Montreal prior to a global conference. The story unfolds enigmatically as a researcher seeks to find out about the groups who might disrupt the conference. There is always an air of mystery that keeps the reader guessing, but this is no traditional mystery. Documents with names and/or dates blacked out. Why? The novel is based on a very deep political understanding. This author has a wonderful grasp also of language and how to use it and it is always a pleasure, with much discovery involved, to read his work.

I am also reading a more traditional mystery set in Venice by Donna Leon who has written over a dozen mysteries in the Guido Brunetti series. These are fast paced stories with an intriguing detective who holds the fabric together. One also learns about his family and various other characters, always with the Commissario's Point of View the predominant one. As I am attempting also to write a mystery, this is an interesting read from that perspective also. I am using more than one Point of View and trying to figure out how to do so without slowing down the pace of the story.

Maybe I ought to call this post 'The Mystery of Writing.'

Life of a Writer. #13. Writer as Reader.

So much to read out there, how to choose. Often a book just falls into my awareness, but also there are times when something a colleague has written rises to the top. At the moment, I have been doing less reading than usual. That has been true over the past year. There have been many distractions, such as downsizing and moving.

 But now I begin to have time again. So, I downloaded a couple of books to take to Morocco and have just finished one of them. Louise Erdrich's The Round House was a superb read. I had read a couple of her earlier books and went to hear her interviewed last fall at IFOA (International Festival of Authors) in Toronto (where I live) by Eleanor Wachtel. A terrific interview, which I listened to again when it was broadcast on the CBC. All of that made my reading experience of The Round House even richer, told movingly from the point of view of 13 year old Joe. As he witnesses the impact on his mother of a savage rape, cooperates with his father to find out who did it, only to find that the white perpetrator can't be prosecuted as the jurisdiction on reserve and other land limits the rights of the First Nations population, we follow Joe to conclusions and actions that will determine the rest of his life. And that leave me as the reader more aware of the tragedies of legal systems created by governments that need to be addressed for true justice to occur.

Life of a Writer. #12. Journey to Morocco.

“Welcome to Rabat. Welcome to Morocco. Welcome to Africa.” The words of our guide in Rabat. We had a guide for the full trip, Muktar, but usually had someone local in cities we visited. At least for some part of the visit. Sometimes for the souks. Or for a particular historical site, as with the Roman ruins of Volubilis. On the whole, Muktar officiated with splendid ease as he was well informed, articulate in English and had a lovely sense of humour.

It took a while to feel as if in Africa after landing at the airport in Casa Blanca and being whisked from there to our hotel in Rabat. North Africa, with its many similarities to southern Europe and the Middle East, reminded me of what I knew and might have seen of other places. But as we made our way south after Fes through the Atlas Mountains to the Sahara, the sense of being on another continent gradually coalesced.

There were sights and sounds and smells to satisfy the most demanding traveler. We went from a rainy day in Menkes to the Roman ruins at Volubilis with gradual sunshine emerging in Fes, then through the snow in the Atlas Mountains where there are ski resorts and chalets that look like Swiss or German ones. Beyond that, further south, the majestic Sahara.

My memorable moments include a streetcar ride in Rabat with my roomie, Zarina, out to the end of one line. We talked to students and learned about them and the university. Then returned on the same line to the stop nearest to our hotel. This was at the very beginning of a trip that took us over vast distances to explore the ancient history of this land as well as developments down to the present. There is, for instance, a monarchy which governs there. However, the king is very modern and has made many changes that have left people content with his rule. He is the first king to marry a commoner and she is the first wife of a king to expose her face in public. Apparently she has red hair and freckles.

I suspect my most memorable moment will remain a visit to the Berber family of one of our three personnel on the bus. Jamal, a young man of considerable good looks and quiet charm, was the assistant to the driver, Mohammed. Neither spoke English, but I managed to communicate with the two of them with my fractured French. Jamal kept track of the tour participants, counting and assisting us. He was often navigator for Mohammed, in and out of tight parking, for instance. The tour guide, Muktar, an educated, articulate man also had a charming sense of humour.

In any case, the visit to Jamal’s family home came after we left the Sahara. Jamal had left the tour for the day to share a religious feast with his family. The arrangement was for the bus to pick him up as we continued along our route the following day. As we approached his village, we were told arrangements had been made for our group to visit his home where we would also be served traditional Moroccan mint tea.

Four generations of the family were represented in a simple compound with the structures a mixture of clay/mud with various other materials such as something that looked like healthy bits of straw. Some of it was open to the sky. It was quite simple. In the large room at the front, which was covered, we were asked to sit around the room on benches. A table was spread with local delicacies such as dates and almonds and walnuts as well as tiny cakes/cookies. We watched while an uncle of Jamal’s went through the ceremony of making the tea, something not many people in Canada would have the patience for. We had been given six gifts by Muktar to present in what was presumably customary fashion. 

The tea was prepared with much ceremony and then passed around in small glasses either with sugar or not. By this time, I got up to go out into the courtyard as I had been sick the previous night and still felt vulnurable. Out there I found little children and a brother of Jamal as well as a place to lean and take photos. One of the little girls brought me a flower and was pleased when I learned her name. Then I tried to get the names of all the children and Jamal’s generation as well. They all beamed with pleasure.

Preparation of mint tea

Serving tea.

Morocco Images. January 2013