Blog posts about the Rabbi Aviva Cohen Mysteries and their author Rabbi Ilene Schneider

Archive for the ‘WRITING’ Category

BOOK SUMMARIES AS HAIKUS

I just posted an invitation on Facebook for writer friends to join in a game I made up. Or maybe I read about it somewhere and plagiarized it. If so, apologies, and let me know so I can give proper attribution.

Describe your book(s) in a haiku.

I’ll start with CHANUKAH GUILT:

Rabbi finds herself
Enmeshed in suicide case.
Or was it murder?

And I’ll continue with UNLEAVENED DEAD:

Why did couple die?
Who killed man with hidden past?
Rabbi uncovers all.

And my new (yet to be released) book YOM KILLER:

Mom found unconscious.
Accident or planned attack?
Family finds truth.

FIRST 381 WORDS

Now that the fate of YOM KILLER, the 3rd Rabbi Aviva Cohen Mystery, is in the hands of my publisher, it’s time to think about book #4. I’m undecided about the title: High Holy Daze? Purim Plotz? Simchat Terror? Shabbat Whine? Plenty of holidays, but I’m running short of puns.

Being a pantser (one who writes by the seat of her pants), I have no idea how I’m going to get from point A (below) to point Z (figured out in my head). If you’re interested in Point A,  read on.

I love mysteries. I always enjoy trying to solve an enigma, whether it’s a word puzzle, a jigsaw puzzle, a whodunit, or a real life dilemma.

I often try to figure out what motivates people to act the way they do. I read history and wonder how such cruelty could have existed. Then I read the news and wonder how such cruelty could still exist.  Some people go out and do terrible things, with no signs of remorse or conscience or even realization that what they’re doing is wrong. And then, when I despair about the human condition, others go out and put themselves in danger to help strangers.

I marvel at the human mind. What inspired someone to take an unappetizing creature like a lobster, throw it into a pot of boiling water, crack the shell, remove the “meat,” and dredge it through melted butter? What motivated someone to look at a prickly pineapple and think, “Gee, I bet there’s something juicy and sweet under the rind”? Who decided to chew the bark of a willow tree to cure a headache?

And the workings of the minds of geniuses – the Descartes and Galileos and Newtons and Lovelaces and Einsteins and Marconis and  Edisons and  Hoppers, and all the others  who thought up math and technology and science – are completely baffing to me.

They’re all grist for the mill. Or maybe I should say they’re all impulses to get the synapses in my brain to fire and keep me young. If it’s true that solving puzzles helps delay the aging process, I should live forever.

The past few years, I succeeded in solving a couple of real life mysteries. Why did a young woman commit suicide? What happened to the carbon monoxide detector that should have saved a couple’s life? Why did my mother have a contusion on the back of her head when she accidentally fell forward? What was I going to do about my first ex-husband? But my newest “case” proved to be the most baffling of all: how did human bones wind up under a pile of discarded Judaica books being stored in a trunk in the attic of a condemned synagogue building?

And what quirk of quantum randomness caused me to be the one to find them?

 

WHY I WRITE

You can see/hear this presentation on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMpyXvGQ8BE

 

Hello, Literary Gladiators. My name is Ilene Schneider, and I thank Josh Caporale for inviting me to post the inaugural entry in the Guest Contributor Series. My claim to fame among Literary Gladiators is as Ari Schneider-Gans’s mother, but I am also a published author, with two mystery novels and a nonfiction book to my credit, along with various contributions to academic anthologies and newspaper opinion columns.

Whenever I do presentations and book readings, I am asked questions about my writing process and publishing experiences. I’ve collected the most frequently asked questions to answer for you today.

I’m often asked when I began writing. I have always been a writer, beginning with my parodies of nursery rhymes when I was about 8. At camp, I hated sports, so I volunteered to run the camp newspaper during the free period. I fell in love with journalism. I was 12. My first nationally published work was a eulogy of John F. Kennedy accepted by Ingénue Magazine when I was 15. I was a communication major in college, concentrating on journalism. I was an editor of my college paper, and a founding editor of a Jewish student paper in Boston. My goal was to be the first woman editor of the New York Times. Even though I got sidetracked, and instead became one of the first women to be ordained as a rabbi in the US, I still continued to write. I was the editor of a Jewish student paper in Philadelphia while I was in rabbinical school. After that, my writings were academic or curriculum design or reports or other forms of nonfiction.

About 10 years ago, I found myself temporarily underemployed. In case you’re wondering, that’s a euphemism for between jobs, also a euphemism. I’ve been a voracious reader since first grade – it would have been earlier if my mother hadn’t been afraid the teachers would be angry with her if she taught me to read before I started school. For quite some time, I had wondered how certain books had gotten published, let alone made the best seller lists. But I also believed it was dishonest of me to criticize books if I hadn’t written one. So I did. It took a while, and it took even longer before I stopped trying to find an agent and concentrated instead on looking for a small publisher who did not require an agent and was willing to take a chance on an unpublished author. Eventually I did.

Which segues into the next question: how I got published. In all three cases, it was a matter more of whom I knew rather than what I wrote. For my first book in the Rabbi Aviva Cohen Mystery Series, Chanukah Guilt, I queried a woman I had been chatting with online after she mentioned she had recently started a small independent press. So many months had passed between when I had submitted  my manuscript and when she emailed that she wanted to publish the book that I had forgotten I had written to her.

The second book, the nonfiction Talk Dirty Yiddish followed a similar path, but with one difference: the publisher queried me. Again, I had met someone online who was the acquisition editor for a large nonfiction publisher. She emailed me that they were starting a new line of books called “Talk Dirty …” and wanted to know if I would be interested in writing the Yiddish version. She didn’t consider my lack of fluency in Yiddish to be an obstacle, as I am experienced in doing research. I realized that if I didn’t write the book, they’d hire someone else. I would read the book and think, “I could have done that,” so I accepted.

By the time I had finished the second book in the mystery series, Unleavened Dead, my first publisher had closed down. For the third time, I contacted an online acquaintance who was acquisitions editor for a small press. Her response was, “I was hoping you’d ask. I love accepting books from people I know.” I’ve been with that publisher, Oak Tree Press, ever since. I am currently editing and proof reading the manuscript of my third mystery, Yom Killer – you can credit Ari for the title – and am about to send it off to Oak Tree.

And that leads to the next question: what is my typical writing day.  I don’t have a typical day. For almost eight years after the publication of Chanukah Guilt, I still had a day job, as a chaplain for a hospice, which can be emotionally draining. I often found myself reading, my favorite way to unwind, when I should have been writing. Now that I have retired, I find other ways to procrastinate – volunteer work, gardening, birding, traveling, knee replacement surgeries, surfing the ‘net under the guise of research, and, of course, reading so I can keep up with the so-called competition.

I cannot write at home, so I take myself off to a Dunkin’ Donuts or Starbucks or some other location that doesn’t mind people using them as an office and has wall plugs to recharge laptop batteries. I find I can concentrate when there is ambient noise I can ignore because it has nothing to do with me. At home, my unwashed laundry and unwatered plants, not to mention telemarketers who ignore the Do-Not-Call list, are always interrupting my train of thought.

And I need to keep track of those thoughts, as I am not a plotter – a writer who outlines and plans every plot twist and scene and nuance of character – but a pantser – one who writes by the seat of her pants. As such, my characters are in control. They tell me what is going to happen. I have a general idea of the story, but the characters often take me in different and unexpected directions. I am then forced to figure out how to get the characters out of whatever corner they’ve made me write them into.

Because my characters tend to take on a life of their own, I sometimes discover that my readers see things in them that I had never intended. For example, I had written the character of Aviva’s first ex-husband – she’s been twice married and divorced – so she would have a close contact in the police department after he was appointed the temporary Director of Public Safety for her town. I had expected him to be an important albeit fairly minor character. But readers kept asking me about Aviva’s relationship with him and how it was going to develop. I hadn’t planned anything further, but did explore their interactions in the second book and expanded it even further in the third.

Another example is when readers tell me they were on the edge of their seats during certain scenes, which I had not considered to be all that suspenseful. But, of course, I knew what the outcome would be.

Which brings up the issue of whether my characters are based on people I know. No, they’re not. My main characters are never based on real people. At the most, they are composites. But I do observe people, so some of my secondary characters are based on strangers, people I see at bookstore cafés or restaurants or stores, and my idle speculations about them. I am also an unabashed eavesdropper, and sometimes overhear conversations, particularly one-sided cell phone ones, that I include in my books.

I am often asked what advice I would give to aspiring writers. I have four bits of advice for aspiring writers. They’re not original with me, but have stood me in good stead.

  1. Don’t give up. If you can’t find an agent – and remember, it takes only one who believes in you and your book – or if the agent can’t find a publisher, try querying small and midsized publishers that do not require agent submissions and are willing to take a chance on an unknown. And if you still are not successful and are sure your book is publishing-worthy – and has been ruthlessly edited, preferably by strangers, and formatted by a professional, and read by people who recognize and appreciate good writing – then self-publish.
  2. Grow a thick skin; but don’t get overly confident. There will be critics who will hate your book for the same reasons others love it. Accept all of it – the good and the bad – with equanimity.
  3. Don’t expect to get rich. The reason there are news articles about writers whose blogs are optioned for Hollywood or writers who sign seven-figure multi-book contracts is because those occurrences are so rare.
  4. Get out there and push yourself. The days of the reclusive writer slaving away in an attic garret – or, more likely these days, parents’ basement –are over. As are the days of publisher-financed book tours and advertising blitzes, unless you’re a bestselling author who doesn’t need the extra hype. If you don’t have an internet presence, if you don’t spend part of your writing time on social media, if you don’t participate in Listservs, if you don’t attend writer and fan conferences at which you participate on panels, your book, no matter how good, will remain unknown and unread.

And finally, why do I write? It’s so I can answer the question “What do you do?” by answering, “I kill people.”

But, of course, there is a much more important and serious answer: the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when people tell me how much they enjoy reading what I write, the chance to entertain others. When UNLEAVENED DEAD was published, a woman who serves with me on the board of our local library bought the book. She was a big fan of CHANUKAH GUILT, and had been waiting patiently for book #2. Her husband of many years had died just a few months before, and she was still mourning the loss. When she came to my book launch party a few weeks after she had bought the book, I asked her if she had read it and enjoyed it. She said, “Enjoyed it? I got home and began reading it in bed. I went to sleep with a smile on my face for the next three nights.” That to me is not just satisfying, but a symbol of success. It was the best praise I could have received.

I know there are a lot of questions I haven’t answered. You can always reach me by email at rabbi.author@yahoo.com. And please follow my blog at http://rabbiauthor.com or friend me on FaceBook at http://www.facebook.com/rabbi.author.

Thank you for joining me on Literary Gladiators. And keep reading.

 

NEW MEXICAN RECIPES

Ten days ago, Amy M. Bennett, author of the Black Horse Campground mystery series, wrote about imbuing her books with local flavor. As a follow up, here are three of her New Mexican recipes that appear frequently in her books.

 

In the Black Horse Campground mysteries, campground owner, Corrie Black, hosts an enchilada dinner on alternate Fridays at the campground.

RED ENCHILADAS

This is Corrie’s recipe for red chili enchiladas, as handed down to her from her mother, who was born and raised in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. Corrie uses whole dried chili pods, but the frozen puree is easier and just as good!

Red chili sauce for enchiladas:

2 containers (14 oz. each) Bueno brand frozen red chili puree, thawed (I use one hot and one mild, just to balance it, but be as daring or cautious as you please!)

2 tablespoon oil

4 tablespoon flour

2 containers of water (14 oz. each); or 1½ containers if you prefer a thicker sauce

4 cloves garlic, minced

½ teaspoon oregano

1 teaspoon salt

 

Heat oil in large pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic and flour and stir to make a roux, about two minutes or until golden brown. Add chili puree and water gradually, stirring well after each addition to eliminate lumps. Add oregano and salt and stir, bringing it to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for 20-25 minutes while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.

2 dozen corn tortillas (Any brand is fine, as long as the tortillas are not too thick.)

4 cups shredded mild or sharp cheddar or Monterey jack cheese

1 cup finely chopped onion

Oil

NOTE: Corrie and I both hate to clean up a big mess, so we usually tape sheets of aluminum foil to the walls and cabinets above the stove where we are making the enchiladas. Clean up is easy!

Pour sauce into a shallow pan and allow to cool slightly. Set up a large skillet or griddle (with a raised edge) on a burner over low heat, oil it well, and allow it to warm up. Mix cheese and onions together (or you can keep them separate) and have handy. Dip each tortilla into the chili sauce. Let excess drip off tortilla, then fry briefly in the oiled skillet, about 5 minutes for each side until they sizzle. (You will be thankful you lined the walls and cabinets with foil!) If the skillet is big enough, you can do three at a time. Remove to a large shallow pan and roll up a good-sized pinch (sorry, this is best measure I can think of!) of the cheese and onion mix evenly in each tortilla. Lay the rolled up tortillas side by side in a baking dish. When all the tortillas are fried, filled, rolled, and placed in the pan, drizzle the remaining sauce evenly over the enchiladas; then sprinkle the leftover cheese and onions over them as well. Bake at 350 degrees for about 10-15 minutes (just to heat through and melt the cheese). Serve with rice and beans. Top with sour cream if the heat is too much for you!

Makes 8 servings of three enchiladas each.

 

BONNEY COUNTY POSOLE (RED OR GREEN)

Posole is a traditional New Mexican stew made with pork, hominy, and chili (not to be confused with menudo!) and is often used to serve a crowd at church or community gatherings. You can use either red or green chile, pork or chicken, and the variations are given below. Serve with white bolillo or French rolls.

2 cans (29 oz. each) white hominy, drained (I know, I know, but this is faster than the traditional kind!)

2 quarts water

3 lbs. pork (for red) or chicken (for green), cut in 1-inch cubes

1 medium onion, chopped

1 or 2 cloves of garlic, minced

1 to 2 cups chopped green chile, roasted and peeled, to taste

OR

1 to 2 cups red chile sauce, to taste (see recipe for Corrie’s red enchiladas)

Optional: 1 can (16 oz.) chopped tomatoes (for green chile)

finely diced radishes and thinly shredded cabbage (for red chile)

 

Combine water, pork or chicken, onion, and garlic and bring to a boil. Boil about one hour or until meat is done. (At this point, you can cool and chill the soup overnight, if you want to remove the hardened fat from the top.) Add hominy and chili (usually green for chicken, red for pork, but there’s no law that says you can’t switch it around!). If you want to cut the heat from the green chili, add the tomatoes. Serve the red chili posole with a garnish of radish and cabbage.

Serves 12.

 

MIGAS

What do you serve a couple of hungry, tired lawmen on short notice? In my third Black Horse Campground mystery, No Vacancy, Corrie whips up her favorite comfort food for Rick and J.D. While traditionally served for breakfast or brunch, migas make a great quick supper as well!

2 tablespoons oil

4 corn tortillas, cut in half and then crosswise into ¼ inch strips

1/3 cup chopped onion

1 or 2 chopped or sliced fresh jalapeno or serrano peppers, with stem, seeds, and vein removed

3 eggs, beaten with a splash of milk, salt and pepper to taste

½ cup shredded cheddar cheese

 

Heat oil in skillet over medium heat and add the tortilla strips. Fry until almost golden. When they are starting to crisp, add the onion and jalapeno or serrano. Fry until tortilla strips are crispy, then add beaten eggs. Stir gently until eggs are almost at the desired doneness, then remove from burner. Sprinkle cheese over top and cover skillet until cheese is melted. Serves one, but you can double the recipe if you have a big enough skillet!

NOW AVAILABLE ON NOOK

Oak Tree Press PR Director par excellence Jeana Lynn Lomprez just let me know CHANUKAH GUILT is now available on Nook. Buy early and often:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/chanukah-guilt-ilene-schneider/1100069857?ean=2940157769185

GUEST BLOG BY AMY M. BENNETT: ADDING LOCAL FLAVOR

AMY M. BENNETT

AMY M. BENNETT

I always enjoy hosting guest blogs by fellow Oak Tree Press writers. And not only because it saves me from having to come up with a topic, but because their posts are just as entertaining and enjoyable as their books.

Amy Bennett’s debut mystery novel, End of the Road, started as a National Novel Writing Month project in 2009. It went on to win the 2012 Dark Oak Mystery Contest and launched the Black Horse Campground mystery series. It was followed by No Lifeguard on Duty and No Vacancy, both of which have been awarded the Catholic Writers Guild Seal of Approval. At the Cross Road is the fourth book in the series. (Be sure to scroll to the bottom of the page to read a description of and excerpt from At the Cross Road+.)

When not sitting at the laptop actively writing, Amy works full-time at Walmart of Alamogordo (not too far down the road from fictional Bonney County) as a cake decorator and part-time at Noisy Water Winery in Ruidoso (where you can find some of the best wines in the state of New Mexico, including Jo Mamma’s White!) She lives with her husband and son in a small town halfway between Alamogordo and Ruidoso. Visit her website at www.amymbennettbooks.com and The Back Deck Blog at http://amymbennettbooks.blogspot.com

Here are Amy’s thoughts on one of my favorite topics: food. And I am in complete agreement with her first three sentences! (And salivating at the rest of her post.)

One thing that always bothers me is reading a book in which the characters never eat.

While I’ve never been a huge fan of books or series that revolve around recipes, I do enjoy reading about characters that are human. And humans eat!

I’ve never been one to go on in great detail about food—and you will rarely find food photos on my Facebook page—but what your characters eat can tell a lot about them and their setting. Stories that are set in coastal areas will, most likely, have the characters enjoying seafood. My stories are set in New Mexico and there are some things that New Mexicans eat that are unique to the area.

Chile peppers are a staple in the diets of many New Mexicans. The official state question is “Red or green?” and many New Mexicans, due to the fame of Hatch green chiles, have a definite preference for green and it goes into everything… even apple pie! It only makes sense that the residents of Bonney County enjoy the flavor and heat of green chile. Some characters, most notably J.D. Wilder, the transplant from Houston, Texas, feel that too much of a good thing can be overdone!

Another New Mexico favorite is the piñon nut from the state tree, the piñon. This nut has a particular flavor that melds beautifully with coffee to make a distinctive addition to the courtesy table at the Black Horse Campground and is Corrie’s favorite morning beverage.

New Mexico is also the oldest wine producing regions in the United States. The New Mexico wine industry has flourished in recent years and the area where fictional Bonney County is located, Ruidoso, is home to Noisy Water Winery, which produces up to thirty wines all made from only grapes grown in New Mexico. Because I love their wines—and I love working there!—it only made sense to me to include Noisy Water wines as a particular element of life in Bonney County!

So while I won’t be including recipes in any of my Black Horse Campground novels, you will read about my characters enjoying a cookout with green chile on the burgers, a bowl of posole at a church function, a plate of migas as a comfort food, and Mexican sweet breads (pan dulce) and breakfast burritos. After all, solving mysteries requires energy and there’s always room for one more around the table in Bonney County!

DESCRIPTION OF AMY M. BENNETT’S LATEST BLAK HORSE CAMPGROUND MYSTERY, AT THE CROSSROAD:
At the Crossroad
Trouble often comes in threes. It’s no different at the Black Horse Campground.

On his first day as detective with the Bonney Police Department, J.D. Wilder finds three cold case files on his desk—three women who have disappeared over a fifteen year period at five year intervals. It seems that no one has ever taken the cases seriously… or even properly investigated them.

Then J.D. receives a visit from two former colleagues who inform him that he’s about to receive another visitor; a woman from his past who is in trouble and needs his help. Again. The timing couldn’t be worse, since he’s finally about to ask Corrie on a date, but then Corrie also has a visitor from her past show up… someone who’s hoping for a second chance with her. In the meantime, Sheriff Rick Sutton has his hands full dodging his ex-wife, Meghan, who insists on discussing personal business with him… business that has to do with digging up a painful past.

When three bodies are discovered that prove the missing women were murdered, J.D.’s investigation reveals that all of their visitors have some connection to the victims. But which one of them killed three women… and is prepared to kill again?

When trouble comes to Bonney County, Corrie, Rick, and J.D. band together to protect each other and their community. But can they solve the mystery before the murderer strikes again?

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 14:

J.D. returned to the Black Horse more wide awake than he had been in days. Amato’s words rang in his ears, while a voice in his head warned him that if he didn’t get some rest, he was going to be completely useless when the time came to have his wits about him and his energy. Still, a night spent in mostly inactivity wasn’t going to allow him to rest. He went into his cabin and changed into his running clothes. He needed to release some tension and energy if he was going to rest at all.

He slipped out of the cabin, casting a glance toward the campground store. It was almost six thirty a.m. and Corrie’s apartment light was on but the store’s lights were still out. He had missed the Friday night fish fry dinner, but he hoped to be back once she was open and be able to talk to her more. And get a decent breakfast.

He started out, following the path he’d taken a couple days earlier. The cool morning air was amazingly refreshing, helping clear his mind while invigorating and relaxing him at the same time. His breathing eased as his strides became more purposeful. He was near a breakthrough in the cold cases. He could feel it. Officer Amato had information that could help reveal the truth about what happened to the three women. After that… he’d have to wait and see.

He rounded the curve where he had seen the small cemetery the last time he had run this path and he slowed to a stop. He had pushed it to the back of his mind and had all but forgotten about it until this moment. Now was as good a time as any to pay his respects. His run had already accomplished its purpose. He knew he’d be able to sleep when he got to his cabin and he’d probably stroll back to the campground after this. He allowed himself a grin as he left the path, picking his way through the tall grass and brush to where the grave sites were.

Unlike most small cemeteries he’d encountered, there was no fence surrounding this one. In fact, there were only three wooden markers, crosses, all of them uniform but in different stages of weathering. He stopped when he got close enough to make out the lettering and suddenly the breath rushed out of him, leaving him feeling weak and dizzy with shock.

The first marker, the most faded, bore the name Carla Sandoval. The second, Rosalie Edwards. The third, the one with the least amount of weathering and the least faded lettering, read Benita Rojas.
Beside the one for Benita Rojas was an open grave. A plain wooden cross lay nearby. Both looked recent. Only a few days recent.

J.D. stumbled back, afraid that his eyes were playing tricks. He fumbled for his cell phone and let out an expletive when he realized he’d left it in his cabin when he changed his clothes. He reached the path and took off at a dead run back to the Black Horse Campground.

He’d been right; there had been more to the disappearances than what was common knowledge.

He hated it when he was right.

NEW REVIEW!

I don’t check Amazon all that often, and serendipitously did today. A new 4-star review was posted on Sunday. My heartfelt thanks to Dindy Robinson, former publisher at Swimming Kangaroo Press, for being the first to have faith in me. After receiving her email accepting the manuscript of CHANUKAH GUILT (10 years ago!), I knew how Sally Fields felt when she gushed, “You like me! You really like me!”

“I used to read a lot of cozies, but in recent years have gone more for police procedurals. However, Unleavened Dead has everything I like in a cozy: a strong heroine with a sense of humor, a believable plot, an interesting premise, and zany characters. Unleavened Dead is the second Aviva Cohen mystery (full disclosure, in another life I owned a publishing company that published the first Aviva Cohen mystery, Chanukah Guilt).

“Aviva is a rabbi of a fairly small congregation, surrounded by lots of colorful characters, including her former husband, the interim police chief, her niece and her niece’s partner/soon-to-be wife (Sherry), and members of the congregation. When Sherry comes under suspicion of driving the car that hit and killed the director of the department of the local college from which Sherry had just been fired, Aviva goes into full sleuth mode to find out the truth.

“The book is a fun read, told with lots of humor and a believable plot. Rabbi Aviva Cohen may not be Rabbi David Small, but she comes pretty close!”

CAN YOU LEARN SCIENCE FROM A THRILLER?

I’m pleased to welcome J. L. Greger to my blog once again. She is celebrating the publication of her latest Sara Almquist thriller, I Saw You in Beirut.Read on as Janet explains how you can learn a little science as you read and enjoy I Saw You in Beirut.

So, can you learn science from a thriller?

Cover Photo

Cover Photo

Yes, you’ll learn a bit of science when you read I Saw You in Beirut. Sara Almquist, the heroine, and several of the supporting characters are scientists who have worked in the Middle East. But don’t panic: the science tidbits in this thriller aren’t boring. They’re perfect for Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuits.

For example, did you know?

• In 1971, the U.S. shipped seed grain treated with methyl mercury fungicide to Iraq during a drought. Peasants in the northern provinces of Iraq ate the grain because the planting season was over. When the mistake was recognized, the farmers dumped the remaining grain and polluted the streams. The net result was thousands suffered permanent neurological symptoms.

• In the early 1960s, scientists identified zinc deficiency in Iran. At that time, 2-3% of the villagers in some regions of Iran didn’t pass the physical for the army because of stunted growth. Dr. James Halstead, Sr. who was married to President’s Roosevelt’s daughter, Anna, headed the research team.

• Camels are a reservoir for a virus that causes Middle Eastern Respiratory Syndrome (MERS). About a third of the rare reported cases during the last three years have died.

Why were these science tidbits included in I Saw You in Beirut?
They advanced the plot and gave me a chance to “show not tell” readers about my characters. As you may have noticed, most thrillers are filled with muscle-bound men. I think you’ll find the smart, active characters in this thriller are a lot more believable, but granted not as sexy as Daniel Craig as James Bond.

Are all the characters stodgy scientists?
No, and who says scientists are staid? The romance between Sara and Sanders, a secretive State Department official, is non-traditional. The incident in the third chapter where a female graduate student threatens a fellow (but very annoying) male graduate student with a knife, which she was using to cut a birthday cake, really happened in my research laboratory at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. The rest of the details are changed, but I couldn’t resist including the real “knife incident.”

Don’t the facts slow the plot?
No, the whole story occurs during a forty-hour period. Yet, Sara manages to travel from Washington, D.C. to Chicago to… Wait! I don’t want to give too much of the plot away. You’ll have to read this novel to learn where she travels in the Middle East. When you finish the book, you’ll feel like you’ve really been to the exotic locations, and only Sara suffers from jet lag.

How could science enhance a plot?
In I Saw You in Beirut, a mysterious source of leaks on the Iranian nuclear industry, known only as F, sends an email from Tabriz: Help. Contact Almquist. Intelligence sources determine the message refers to Sara Almquist, a globetrotting epidemiologist, and seek her help to extract F from Iran. As Sara tries to identify F by dredging up memories about her student days at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and her work in Lebanon and the Emirates, groups ostensibly wanting to prevent F’s escape attack her repeatedly. She begins to suspect her current friendship with Sanders, a secretive State Department official, is the real reason she’s being attacked.

How can I obtain a copy?
I Saw You in Beirut is available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1610092201.

NEWS FLASH: GoodReads will give away free copies of this thriller from January 9-15, 2016. https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/166390-i-saw-you-in-beirut

Janet and Bug

Janet and Bug

Bio: JL Greger’s thrillers and mysteries include: Malignancy (winner of 2015 Public Safety Writers’ annual contest), Ignore the Pain, Murder: A New Way to Lose Weight, Coming Flu, and I Saw you in Beirut. Bug (shown in the picture) rules their house and is a character in all her novels. Her website is: http://www.jlgreger.com

BLUEBERRIES IN HAMMONTON IN 1920? DOUBTFUL – Oct. 3, 2010

The other day, I finally got around to watching the first episode of the new HBO series “Boardwalk Empire.” There’s a shot of a sign that says “Hammonton, Blueberry Capital of the World.”

While it’s true that Hammonton does accurately call itself the Blueberry Capital of the World, was it true in 1920? I had my doubts. After all, it wasn’t until 1916 that Elizabeth White, after working for five years with Frederick Coville, of the US Department of Agriculture, to develop a commercially viable blueberry, succeeded in hybridizing one that was large enough, durable enough, and tasty enough to be marketed. Four years later, when “Boardwalk Empire” takes place, it wasn’t Hammonton that was the blueberry capital of anywhere, it was Whitesbog, the cranberry operation begun by White’s grandfather and still (to this day) owned by his descendants.

But maybe I was wrong. Strange as it may seem, and as much as I hate to admit it, I have on occasion been mistaken. So, I did what I am best at, and researched the topic. I already knew that Hammonton, in Atlantic County near its border with Camden County, was nowhere close to Whitesbog, at the border of Burlington and Ocean Counties. What I didn’t realize was how far apart they are – thirty-seven miles and, at today’s speeds, a fifty-two minute drive. In 1920, what was the likelihood that Elizabeth White had traveled to Hammonton to transplant their high bush blueberries? Consider, too, that in 1920 the roads in the Pine Barrens were not paved, and the predominance of congestion and traffic lights today are not enough to make the trip longer than it was then.

But I could find nothing about when Hammonton began to call itself the Blueberry Capital of the world. Nothing, that is, until I came across a posting on http://www.genealogybuff.com with the obituary of former Hammonton mayor George A. Mortellite. The relevant passage: “During his tenure as Mayor he signed a proclamation on March 28, 1987, proclaiming the town of Hammonton as the Blueberry Capital of the World.”

Talk about anachronisms. It was sixty-seven years after the events portrayed in “Boardwalk Empire” that the first “Hammonton, Blueberry Capital of the World” was erected.

Anachronisms bug me. I’m not sure why, as I’m generally able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy even the most absurd premises. (I am a huge fan of British science fiction TV series.) And so I try to avoid anachronisms in my own writing.

CHANUKAH GUILT takes place the end of November-beginning of December, 2002. UNLEAVENED DEAD, the next book in the series takes place the end of March-beginning of April, 2004. Trying to keep track of movies, weather, TV shows, is easy – I have bookmarked several sites which give me the information. More difficult is trying to remember what technology was in common usage.

Facebook, I know from the release of the recent movie “The Social Network,” was just getting started. But what about texting? I’ve been trying to remember when my husband and I first started. I know it was after our older son had been doing it for a while, and he got a detention his senior year of high school (2006) when he had forgotten to turn off his phone and my husband sent him a text. But how much earlier were we texting? I decided to take the easy way out and not mention texting.

Generic MP3 players and DVRs? Brand specific IPods and TiVo? Safer not to mention them.

I did find references to Internet cafés by then, but not to free wifi. I have my protagonist Aviva and her niece, the computer whiz, in such a café, but avoid the issue of how Trudy connected to the ‘net.

I checked on the status of same sex marriage in 2004 and what the current regulations were then. Some have changed since then, but at least it is accurate (I hope) for the time. The same is true of local laws about carbon monoxide detectors in private homes.

I’ve tried my best to avoid anachronisms in my books. I just wish HBO had done the same. I know – it’s called fiction because the writer can make things up. But it still bugs me

BOOK TOUR? VACATION? BOTH? FUN! – July 28, 2010

SEE PHOTOS OF THE TRIP ON MY FACEBOOK PAGE: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/album.php?aid=32564&id=1675915483

Is it a book tour when the author is going to be in an area anyway and arranges some readings and signings herself? And combines the “tour” with a vacation? And does it matter? (Besides, of course, to the IRS, but I’ll leave it to our accountant to figure it out.)

On July 13, I presented a program on Talk Dirty Yiddish at the annual conference of the International Association of Jewish Genealogical Societies in LA; the next day, I repeated the program at the Orange County JCC in Irvine, and appeared at the Mystery Ink Bookstore in Huntington Beach for a signing of Chanukah Guilt. I sold books throughout the conference (and at the JCC and the bookstore). And I reread what I had already completed of Unleavened Dead and rewrote entire sections. But here’s the context of the “tour”:

When Gary and I were both asked to present programs at the IAJGS, we decided to take advantage of our temporary empty nest and go a week early so we could have a vacation. A real vacation, no agenda, no plans, no chores, no cooking, no cleaning, no laundry (that awaited our return home), no kids. It was the longest we’d gone away together, minus kids, in, oh, about 22 ½ years. (Natan is 22. Do the math. We did.)

We were in full tourist mode, sightseeing and eating our way through LA and environs. We took a “hop-on, hop-off” bus tour (no celeb houses, though – we figured we’d only see gates and lawns – but lots of tourists looking for celebs), went to Grauman’s Chinese Theater and LaBrea Tar Pits and Santa Monica Pier (2 birds I’d never seen before , aka “lifers”: Heermann’s Gull and Western Gull) and the Grammy Museum and the Paley Center for Media and “South Pacific” (where we bought Ari a t-shirt, since he was in the play at camp) and Olvera Street . . . and ate . . . and ate . . . and ate. We even experienced an earthquake. (Epicenter 150 miles away, but the hotel swayed. Fun only because there were no injuries, no damage, and it lasted only a few seconds. Felt longer.)

The highlight of our eating adventures was the Mexican ice cream festival at a restaurant next to the hotel. Even without the kids to witness our transgression, we felt guilty eating dessert for dinner, so we had a guacamole appetizer first. Then the ice cream. Mexican chocolate (cinnamon made it different) and blueberry and Mexican cookie (cinnamon again) dough and sweet cream and, my favorite, the most intensely flavored mint I’d ever tasted, laced with ribbons of Mexican chocolate and topped with pomegranate sauce. I’d better move on to another topic before I short out my laptop from the drool.

After the conference began, Gary was busy attending sessions. So, the ever devoted spouse, I rented a car and took off on my own. I went up to Griffith Park, home not only of the iconic Griffith Observatory, film location of the observatory scenes in “Rebel without a Cause;” not only of a bird sanctuary, where I saw a lifer black Phoebe; but of the newly (to me anyway) iconic Greek Theatre. I had no idea the pseudonymous site of “Get Him to the Greek” was an actual place. It was, unfortunately, closed, so I had to look elsewhere for an Infant Sorrow t-shirt for Natan.

I continued down the hill (mountain? Earthquake-created mound?), around the corner, and up the hill to the LA Zoo. (Another lifer in the rushing water feature at the entrance: American Dipper. Don’t ask why I didn’t take a picture. Truth: I didn’t think of it.)

Then it was off to Franklin Canyon, where I discovered the joys of driving a car on 1 ½ lane switchbacks with cars coming in both directions. It’s also where I discovered that a GPS with spoken directions is much safer than trying to look at a printout from Google Maps (often inaccurate) while driving on said switchbacks. For once in my life, I drove with both hands on the wheel, my foot hovering over the brake, and my eyes firmly on the road. Fortunately, I made it; unfortunately, the nature center (but not the grounds) had closed 10 minutes earlier and the ranger wouldn’t unlock it for me. But I did get another lifer: an Anna’s hummingbird. Two, in fact, flittering around a tree. Not even at a feeder.

I ended the day at the Milky Way, a Kosher dairy restaurant owned by Lea Spielberg. Yes, the mother of that Spielberg. She greeted me at the door, showed me to my table, was very gracious, asked me about myself and then told the other patrons (no celebs, alas; at least none I recognized) that I was a rabbi from New Jersey. She was particularly tickled when I told her I lived near Haddonfield, where the family lived when Steven (may I call him “Steven”?) was growing up. I gave her one of my cards with info. about my books and fantasized for about 2 minutes about getting an email from her son. I told her how much Ari likes Schindler’s List, which he saw as part of his class on literature of the Holocaust, and she told me proudly how Steven had taken her with him to Poland. She said she every now and then looks in the mirror and thinks, “I’m WHOSE mother?”

Oh, did I mention that we ate a lot of great food?

On the way back east, we took the redeye to Minneapolis, a puddle jumper to Rhinelander, WI, rented a car, drove to the middle of nowhere, turned left and kept going until we reached Camp Ramah in the North Woods (aka Conover), WI. We had missed visiting day because of our LA trip and came for Shabbat instead.
It was a wonderful experience, unhurried, uncrowded, peaceful.

But hot. It’s supposed to be cold, or at least chilly, up there. It wasn’t. So we didn’t need all the sweaters and long pants we’d brought (bringing our individual bags to just under the 50 lb. limit for each). We did, however, need insect repellant. Ten days later, and I’m still scratching.

Best of all, of course, was seeing Ari and witnessing for ourselves what a terrific and successful summer he’s having.

Worst of all was getting home again. The trip was fine. And Natan picked us up at the Philadelphia airport. It was great to see Natan, who had not only kept the plants on the back deck alive but had planted new ones on the front porch. We could tell he hadn’t taken advantage of our absence (not that we expected him to) and had a wild party, because the house was as messy as we had left it. (If he’d had a party, he would have had to straighten up first and his friends would have left the place in better condition than we had.) It was the transition back to “real life” that was tough. I may have been away from work for 2 weeks, but it then took another week to get caught up.

Ah, well, it was fun while it lasted. But Unleavened Dead won’t write itself.

PS
Did I mention we ate our way through LA?