Roz Advises: Don’t Try This If You Share a Bedroom with Your Little Sis

When we were growing up, I shared a bedroom with my little sister, Jill. Every night, as the bedtime hour approached, I began lobbying my mother for permission to stay up at least thirty minutes longer than Jill (thirty was an arbitrary number that seemed to encompass the rest of the evening and might get me through till morning). The main thrust of my argument emphasized that Jill was only three, but at six I was much more equipped to handle the night life. However, my genius mother out-negotiated me every time with her devious plan. She suggested that we should go to bed at the same time, but then, as soon as Jill fell asleep, I was free to get up and join the wild nightlife that I was so sure my parents were relishing while watching the nine o’clock news in the living room.

It was too late when I figured out this plan had holes in it. For me—not my mother. I usually fell asleep before my sister, or we both dropped off around the same time. When I woke the next morning, I was once again a victim of my mother’s evil plot. And Jill was left wondering how many times I was going to fall for it. Yep, my little sister was, and still is, smarter than me.

We’re all grown-up now. But that’s the thing about good sisters: mine is still always there for me and ready to explain what I don’t get. She’s my tower of strength, my totally biased supporter, my hero. Plus, she’s the soundest sleeper I know. She hits the mattress like a statue and wakes up eight hours later fully refreshed. I, on the other hand, grab as much shut-eye as I can between old episodes of Columbo and Murder, She Wrote. And it’s not much.

In our soon-to-be-released Palm Desert Killing, the latest in The Val and Kit Mystery Series, we introduce Nora, Kit’s sister. Nora has no problem sleeping, despite the alarming circumstances surrounding her life. But like me, Kit loves her sister, and there’s nothing she won’t do to help her out.

Jill and her husband, Alan, looking well rested.

We Come As We Are

How can we coauthor The Val and Kit Mystery Series and other novels when we live 1300 miles apart, you ask? (At least many of you do.) It’s easy, really! And communicating via Skype doesn’t hurt a bit. We meet regularly in our respective “offices,” Roz in her kitchen in Texas, Patty in her spare bedroom in Wisconsin.

First, we spend many months taking turns writing ten pages or so at a time. These are e-mailed back and forth, always with an aim to paint each other into a corner, and always edited and tweaked by the other (which we think accounts for the reason y’all so kindly marvel that we write with one voice). Then we’re ready to start a first read-through of the work in progress. We don’t need to dress up or put on makeup (as the photos below attest). We just connect via Skype and get right to it. It goes kinda like this:

Good morning.

Good morning. Your hair looks really nice.

Nah . . . okay, thank you.  I just got it cut. Your nails are gorgeous.

Revlon Gel.

Oh, let me write that down.

Should we take a break?

Yeah. I’m gonna heat my coffee.  See you in five. 

Five minutes later we’re back at our respective screens, Roz still wearing her Houston Astros T-shirt that doubles as sleeping attire, Patty in her pajamas. Thank you, Skype.

What’s that you’re eating?

Fiber One Lemon Bar. Delicious.

Let me write that down.

Ooops, my cell is ringing. Oh . . . it’s my dentist. I’ll call him back.

We have our manuscript loaded on our Kindles (thank you, Amazon) and take turns reading aloud—one page at a time, to ensure we’ll stay awake and alert. Thus we carefully maneuver (and hopefully destroy) the minefield of potential plot gaffes: What happened to that character in Chapter Three? He seems to have disappeared. How come Val and Kit had breakfast twice in Chapter Four? Shouldn’t the second meal be considered lunch by now? And why do they need to eat so much, anyway?

Wow, this is a really good book. Don’t you think?

I love it.

Are we sure we know who the murderer is?

I was thinking that dude in Chapter Fourteen.

You mean the one who fell down a mine shaft early in Chapter Twelve?

Oh, right. Couldn’t he have been rescued?

By his blind, one-legged dog?

Could the dog—

Forget the dog.

Okay.  Wanna take a break?  See you in five.

And so it goes. Much more laughing than plotting. After a few more all-day Skype sessions, we finally have a manuscript that makes sense (so we think), one where no character undergoes a change in hair shade, eye color, height, or age. We’re finally ready to pass along our precious baby to our beta readers. Right now we’re eager to see what they think about Palm Desert Killing (due out this summer).

Here we are, in all our Skyping glory.

Roz Says: Don’t Beam Me Anywhere, Scotty—I Want to Stay Right Here

Passenger Log from Emerald Princess . . . Cruising Western Caribbean, Stardate April 2015

Agendas for days 1 through 7 of the cruise are pretty much the same: wake up with plan to walk around the promenade deck, have a sumptuous breakfast, find a perfect spot to relax at one of the three pools on board, have a sumptuous lunch, go ashore when we are in port, and then have a sumptuous, dressy dinner and see a show. In between all these activities there should be naps.

I love cruising. I love floating around the Caribbean with approximately two thousand complete strangers. And even with so many fellow passengers, I am impressed that there are many times when I feel like the only other people on the ship besides me are the captain and a poolside waiter from Slovenia (or Latvia, or Moldova) who brings me fruity drinks with paper umbrellas and bunches of cherries. It’s amazing to be served dinner in an Italian specialty restaurant by a Russian girl named Anastasia, overseen by a maître d’ from Pompeii. It’s delightful to chat with a real live Cuban in, of all places, the cigar bar. It’s interesting to be seated for dinner between a defense contractor who just returned from Saudi Arabia and a high school principal from Columbus, Ohio.

A word about the captain. Even though we had at least three written invitations left in our cabin to join him (and a few hundred other people) for cocktails, we never did quite make it. But I heard him make several announcements (in an attractive Italian accent), and I saw his photograph at various points around the vessel. His bio on the website said his hobby was boating. So I figured that since he apparently couldn’t get enough sailing, he must know what he is doing up there on the bridge.

Although I’ve cruised before, there is always something new to learn. This time I learned you should forget about using Wi-Fi on your cell phone unless you plan to send AT&T or Verizon, or whatever service provider you are indentured to, a check for about a thousand bucks. You are in the middle of the ocean, people; there are no towers close by. And, as a comedian at one of the shows pointed out, if you miss your peeps back home so much, you should have brought them on the cruise with you.

Going ashore is totally optional, of course. Many passengers like scuba diving, or dolphin watching, or getting their hair cornrowed. We prefer to save our energy for that walk around the promenade deck and mainly go ashore only to shop. We’ve even been able to reduce that activity to a bare minimum, since all the islands we visited sell similar stuff. About being docked: there is something magnificent about seeing four or five ships anchored in the azure water like giant behemoths spewing forth hundreds of tourists into tender boats, or directly onto the pier of those islands that are accommodating to their guests.

The evening entertainment on our ship was fabulous, crammed with singers and dancers who would be at home on Broadway. One of our leading lady soloists could give Alicia Keys a run for her money any day. On one past cruise, I was awed by an illusionist, from India, who stopped by our table at dinner and briefly introduced himself. A few seconds later he moved to another table, from where he waved my watch in the air at me. How’d he do that? What was even more amazing was that the lady at the next table who had witnessed me getting ripped off still managed to be relieved of her own watch.

Inevitably, day 7 rolls around. It’s far too quick and we haven’t accomplished all we planned, particularly that walk around the promenade deck. But it’s back to dry land for me, my focus now on the desert as Patty and I begin our wrap-up of Palm Desert Killing, our latest Val and Kit mystery. Reluctantly, I say good-bye to the beautiful Emerald Princess and all who sailed on her. I take with me fond memories of the nice people we met, all the laughs we had, and eating enough food to sink a cruise ship.

Roz and Mike on the Emerald Princess, giving the sign of Quatro Strong for a dear young man and close friend.

How NOT to Get Away with Murder

As we finish up the fifth novel in The Val & Kit Mystery Series—PALM DESERT KILLING—we find ourselves toying with ideas for No. 6. And, believe us, ideas aren’t hard to come by. Then again, truth generally being stranger than fiction, most of what we garner from TV and newspapers just isn’t believable (even though it really happened).

We are both avid watchers of shows such as Dateline, 20/20, 48 Hours, and Forensic Files, where they take an in-depth look at heinous killings. But while we love such shows, we have not learned anything useful on how to get away with such crimes. We’ve gleaned much, however, on how NOT to get away with murder.

Here, then, are some tips that apparently aren’t as obvious as they should be:

First, avoid one of the most common mistakes. If you plan to bury your poor victim, don’t get caught on camera at Home Depot or Loew’s buying a shovel and plastic wrap.  However, if you insist on doing so, never look directly into the store surveillance camera and wave. Also, don’t wear a baseball cap emblazoned with your alma mater or favorite team; always pay in cash; and don’t keep the receipt in your wallet or tucked under the visor of your car. If you have to pay by check, don’t write a note on it or in your register that the purchases are “Stuff to get rid of Aunt Alice.”

Next, if you are going to poison someone, don’t spend hours on the Internet researching sites that tell you how to make, buy, or mix a deadly substance. Avoid any websites that offer the dosage required and the effects of offensive materials. And for heaven’s sake, don’t try it out on the cat first.

Don’t take out a hefty insurance policy on the victim the day before you do the deed.

If you are a third-party murderer, meaning someone else put you up to it (it wasn’t my idea, honest, Your Honor!), don’t use your cell phone to communicate to said first party. Don’t e-mail them or, worse, write a chatty letter.

Don’t underestimate the police. They are smart. And no matter how chummy you might feel with the officer who has hauled you in for a friendly little chat, don’t start offering your own theories on who might have done it.

If you insist on using a gun, get rid of the weapon; and this does not mean tossing it into a shallow body of water a mile from your house.

Don’t rent a storage unit to hide all your murderous paraphernalia. Eventually, the police will find it; they always do.

Have a really good alibi. But not too good. Don’t, for example, go to the mall, stand in view of the surveillance camera, and participate in a flash-mob dance, or belt out an Italian opera while waiting for your pancakes at IHOP.

Lastly, avoid joining a gang, especially one with a name like Git-R-Done or Fists of Fire. These might serve you well once you’re slammed up in the pokey, but they’re not gonna do you any good on the outside.

And the best advice we can offer? Please don’t murder anyone. But if you just can’t help yourself, then stay out of Val and Kit’s way. Especially in Palm Desert, California, the setting for our next book. It just isn’t safe.

Go Ahead! Judge Our Books by Their Covers!

Many generous people have asked how the covers of our books originate. And we’re happy to elaborate. When we are working on a new book and reach the stage that signals it’s time to turn our attention to a cover . . . it’s a yippee!!! kind of day.

It’s like a bride, working with a wedding planner, putting the details of the event together and finally coming to the part where she gets to pick THE dress.

In our case, picking a cover is a collaborative effort. There are many family members and friends consulted. But once we’ve culled our short list of photos from the hundreds we have taken and then agreed on our final choice, it’s off to Laura Eshelman Neuman for the final fitting. Laura is an amazing woman (and Patty’s daughter-in-law) who takes our photos and turns them into incredible covers.

When we started with our first Val & Kit Mystery, The Disappearance of Mavis Woodstock, our original idea was a hand-drawn sketch showing our protagonists standing next to a real-estate sign. But it was bad. At least Roz, the artist, thought so. Then someone suggested using a photo of a front door. As it happened, Patty’s daughter Melissa had just posted a photo of her own front door on her blog, Mel’s Green Garden. That photo was taken by Melissa’s dear friend and then-neighbor Amy Spreitzer Windsor of the Bitchin’ Wives Club blog. Laura worked her magic with the design of all the elements, and we were thrilled with the results. Networking at its best!

This set the scene for our next book, The Murder of Susan Reed. This was serious stuff: a real gun belonging to a real police officer and a single bullet depicting a murderous act. Thank you, Sheila (Laura’s friend—and ours too!)!

The cover for Death in Door County was pure joy. We, along with one of our proofreaders, Sarah Paschall, spent a fun four days driving around the beautiful Door County and stopping to take pictures, among other things (eating, drinking, sightseeing, and just generally having fun). The result was an ominous winding road, perfect for our purposes.

Lethal Property was simpler. The cover was shot by Mike Gerbino using Roz’s kitchen chair as the backdrop and her Jackie Ohh sunglasses strategically placed. Val’s business card was whipped up on Roz’s computer. Once again, the final result was sent to Laura, who managed to turn it into Patty’s favorite cover.

Speaking of Laura, and covers, our NON–Val & Kit book, Dressing Myself, features our favorite cover girl posing as our protagonist Jessie.

Which is YOUR favorite?

Our latest Val and Kit mystery, which is nearing its final stages, will be titled Palm Desert Killing. Lucky Val and Kit—not to mention Patty and her husband, Johnny—are currently in California. Patty and Johnny are taking pictures of palm trees, mountains, and the desert on their daily hikes. Poor them, forced to enjoy glorious California and capture it on film, er, iPhones.

Mission Accomplished!

Best Month of the Year (According to Roz)

I just checked my calendar and realized that February has only another full week left, so I’m reminded that our February blog has not yet hit the computer screen. Other bloggers may experience the same phenomenon: writing a blog each month is sometimes like that Seinfeld episode where they come up with a show about nothing. (Isn’t there a Seinfeld episode that can apply to anything in life?) In this case, what subject do we tackle?

In short, February’s blog is about February. As months go, I really like February. By far my favorite. It falls so nicely between that bloated January, where everyone is still on their holiday high, and March, with all its springtime nonsense and tax preparation.

February is such a compact month, short and sweet, and packed with all sorts of goodies, starting with Groundhog Day (which means nothing to those of us living in the South; but I did love the movie). Then we have Valentine’s Day, the sweetest day of the year, followed closely by Presidents’ Day, when there is always a good sale or two. Ash Wednesday is a unique time for those of us who imbibe, the Super Bowl is in there somewhere, and we round the month out with the Academy Awards. What other month offers so much?

Unfortunately, in Houston this year we have been a little short-changed in the wintry-weather department. Some Houstonians are happy with this state of affairs, but I like a few really cold days, and even a sprinkling of snow occasionally. But so far my Uggs have not seen the light of day. My sweet little hat/scarf/mittens combo is still waiting for a day cold enough to warrant dragging them out. And my ceiling fan remains on the warm-weather cycle. So far! Oh, I would like to extend my sympathies to the folks living on the East Coast. Patty, by the way, is wintering in Palm Desert, California, so she gets no sympathy from anyone (although it is a working vacay, as she researches for our Val & Kit Mystery No. 5, set in Palm Desert and as yet untitled; we look forward to an unveiling in the not-too-distant future).

Patty, researching with granddaughters Emma and Ella in SoCal

To all our readers, we hope you enjoy the remaining days of February. For you Northerners, the good news is, you’ve got only another week.

Roz Proclaims: Out with the Old, and Nothing New Comes In

Rather than make any new resolutions for 2015, I’m going to try to get rid of some of the old obsessions that carried me through 2014. This might seem like the same thing in reverse, but I’m pretty sure that getting rid of something is easier than starting something new.

So, this brings me to my first obsession: collecting stuff I no longer use or need and putting it in a garbage sack to take to Goodwill. Twelve months ago I had one sack. Now I have seven. The obsession part is the accumulation, feeling so good about all the excellent things I will be donating. The getting rid part involves actually hauling the sacks into my car and depositing them with Goodwill.

Next obsession: eyeing something in a store, usually an item of clothing, and thinking I simply must have it. Unfortunately, when I get home, I discover I’ve bought the same thing, or something similar enough to have no distinction, at least three times already. I place the perfect black pumps on my shoe rack beside their identical sisters, all of whom are screaming take me to Goodwill, already!

On their way to Roz's car--finally!

Then there is my cell phone. Actually, it’s not my phone I obsess about, but the cell phone of my boyfriend, who I insist should be just as enthralled with his as I am with mine. Why isn’t he oohing over the laser beam app, or aahing over voice search?  Why does he see no need to send anyone a picture or even a text?  So I am going to stop beating him over the head and let him do just what he wants: make a phone call.

Television shows are hardly worth mentioning and almost seem healthy, since they do tend to run their course quickly. I am currently obsessed with Breaking Bad. Before my obsession began, I was mystified why this show won so many awards, even though I’d never seen a single episode. Thanks to Netflix, I am now halfway through the entire series, and I get it. It’s good. But as with The Sopranos and Homeland, to name just two, once I am done, I will resume normal life.

Speaking of television shows, I did spend an inordinate amount of time in 2014 trying to figure out how to receive the optimum Wi-Fi signal at home. It should have been easy, since my house is small, and the cable attaching the modem to the wall is even smaller. I may have to break my own rule in 2015 and call my service provider, but since we spent so much time chatting in 2014, we are old friends by now.

Removing clutter is annoying, even to me, the declutterer. While I must remove all unnecessary objects from any counter or table, I often find I need a removed item an hour or so later, and then the problem becomes remembering where I put it. This obsession even extends to my e-mail in-box. All mail has been moved to the trash file as soon as I read it. Now I vow to let opened and read email languish in the in-box, enjoy a little vacation time, before I inevitably send it to the trash and then, of course, empty the trash!

Most important, for 2015, Patty and I wish all our wonderful readers a happy, joyous, and obsession-free year. And please feel free to delete this after reading.