Frankie Y Bailey's Blog

Ask Lizzie or Quinn

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 21:53:16 -0400

Hard at work on the new book, trying to finish by the end of July. But as I was working, and thinking about the other characters in the book, something occurred to me. I wondered what question readers who have been following the series would most like to have Lizzie or Quinn answer.

What would you ask one of them if you had the chance?

Completing What I Started

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Fri, 08 May 2009 15:59:32 -0400

Someone reminded me recently in a gentle e-mail that I had started two short stories on this website that I never completed. My apologies for leaving anyone who was reading them hanging. I was using the stories as in-between books writing. Then I got busy with research on the next book -- and thought briefly that the stories might overlap with that plot. But it now appears I will be able to finish at least one of the stories, perhaps both. I will try to do that some time this month.

Please be patient now that I've said I'm going to do this. I need to finish the new Lizzie book and get it out to my publisher by the end of July. And if I get on a real roll with the book, the stories may get pushed back. But they will be completed.

For those who may have forgotten, the new book is Forty Acres and a Soggy Grave and it's set on Vinalhaven, Maine and Eastern Shore Virginia. Writing it is as much fun as the research I did in both places. I have a character who is quickly becoming one of my favorites. . . .

Mystery Writers of America

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 02:27:38 -0500

I am honored this year to serve as the Executive Vice President of Mystery Writers of America. It's a terrific year for MWA as an organization. Lee Child is our president. We have a strong, hard-working board. And this year, 2009, is the 200th birthday of Edgar Allan Poe. It also happens to be Arthur Conan Doyle's 150th birthday year, and Chester Himes's 100th.

Your Questions and the New Year

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 11:02:28 -0500

I know I have been away from this my blog for several months. I've been on sabbatical and busy doing research and writing, often in other places. In January, I will return to the classroom and with a more structured schedule, I will try to get back to checking in here.

Just a reminder about my Questions and Comments page. If you send me a message and would like a response, please remember that you need to include your e-mail address. Your e-mail address will not automatically appear on the message that I receive.

I want to wish everyone a Happy and Healthy New Year. I hope you each find all the support and comfort you need for any troubles you may encounter. I hope we all manage to approach the new year with optimism and hope.

Here's to 2009!

Blogging from Eastern Shore

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 11:03:51 -0400

On the road in Eastern Shore Virginia. This is my second visit to Eastern Shore as I research 40 Acres and a Soggy Grave. I've been spending time in the history room at the Accomac Public Library.

But research isn't all done indoors. Yesterday, I spent some of the afternoon observing Sunday visitors to the beach on Assateague Island. Yes, in addition to the wild ponies and the migrating birds, there is a lovely stretch of beach. The weather was in the 70s with a light breeze. Not bad for September.

Yesterday, I also attended service at a historic church. Today, it's back to the library, call some contacts, and more photo expeditions.

Tomorrow, I plan a second trip to the Barrier Island Center. My boat tour to one of the barrier islands was canceled because of a cold front moving this way. I'll try again later in the year.

Blogging and me

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 11:37:45 -0400

Let's face it. I'm hopeless as a blogger. I here by confess that there are long periods of time when I forget that I have a blog and should check in. I could say that there are other more pressing things I need to do. That's completely true. I have a deadline on a local history book that I'm co-authoring. That book is due right about now.

As you know, I'm also working on the new Lizzie mystery. The new mystery is the reason that "Good Neighbors," the short story I started here has never been finished. I realized that there was as aspect of the short story that I had in mind that I couldn't use here because it plays an essential role in the book.

So my apologies to anyone who was following that story. The answer to the question about the phone call from New York will have to wait for the book. The mystery of Quinn's neighbor's strange niece will also be answered in passing in the new book.

Instead of finishing the story, I'm going to try to do daily log entries during my trip to Eastern Shore Virginia later this month. I'm on my way back for a boat tour to a barrier island and some research on farming.

But given what you know about me and blogging, you know you'd better believe it when you see it. Honest, dependable in most other things, I can only promise to try when it comes to blogging. I am only comforted by the fact that blogging seems to be as Herculean task for some other writers I know.

What I'm counting on with the Eastern Shore Virginia travel log is that I'll have ready material at hand. Eastern Shore is a place that intrigues. That's why I'm setting my new book there.

Coming Soon

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 14:36:17 -0400

My new non-fiction book, African American Mystery Writers: A Historical and Thematic Study , is now available for pre-order from the usual sources. It will be out from McFarland this fall.

New York, New York

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 14:17:32 -0400

I've finally gotten back to our story in progress. As it happens I'm also working on a presentation on writing that I'm going to do on Monday. The two things overlapped when I was thinking about "what if."

If you've been reading "Good Neighbors" (see below, if you haven't), what do you think Lizzie is about to tell Quinn re the call from New York? Does anyone remember Lizzie's New York connections (mentioned in the first book in the series -- Death's Favorite Child). This is of interest to me because the friends who read my book manuscripts always remind me that readers don't necessary retain as much information about Lizzie and Quinn as I do. Something mentioned in passing may be a complete surprise when it pops up three or four books later.

I've also been thinking about the New York call in "Good Neighbors" because I'm working on the fifth book, and I want to make sure the call will not conflict with my plotline there. So, actually, I'm stalling here while I do some plot work on book five.

But I really do want to know if anyone who has been reading the series has any thoughts about what that New York call might be about. Hint: It is not related to the new neighbor next door. It a tidbit that happened to pop up in the conversation that Lizzie and Quinn were having. In fact, I didn't know about the call until Lizzie mentioned it. . .

At any rate, I promise I will finish the story. I know we have to find out what's going on with the neighbor next door.

Update on story

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 22:45:00 -0400

No, this isn't the next installment. I'm thinking about what happens next in light of the new book I'm working on. I will think it through while my aunt from Virginia and I are on our road trip this week and get back with the next scene over the weekend.

Hope everyone is having a great summer.

Eastern Shore Virginia

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 10:45:16 -0400

Well, I'm back from my research trip to Eastern Shore. It has taken me a week or so to get back into the groove -- including this blog. I wanted to dive right into the book while everything was still fresh in my mind. There was so much to take in. I'm planning another visit in late September to walk myself through my draft.

If you haven't been to Eastern Shore, it is definitely worth a visit. Wild ponies, migratory birds, seashore and farms, small towns and harbors, saltwater marshes and barrier islands. Tradition and change. Natives and newcomers. I hope I can capture it all in my book.

I will post the next installment of "Good Neighbors" early next week.

On the Road

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Sun, 18 May 2008 07:45:37 -0400

I am off to Eastern Shore Virginia for a week to do some research for the new mystery. I'll post the next installment of the short story when I return.

Happy Mother's Day

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Sun, 11 May 2008 10:44:33 -0400

Have a wonderful day, mothers, grandmothers, aunts who are "just like mothers," and "other mothers" who nurture children and adults who not related to you by blood. Thank you all for the cooking and the cleaning and the comforting. Thank you for being there.

And a hug back to everyone who is missing a mother today.

P.S. I've been watching a robin who has built her nest on top of the light fixture out on my terrace.
That bird is a lesson in patience as she sits there on those eggs hour after hour.
Here's another big cheer for the mothers in the wild.

Good Neigbors (Scene III)

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Wed, 07 May 2008 21:55:55 -0400

(Note: For earlier scenes in this story, see blog entries below).

"So," Lizzie said. "Tell me about your neighbor's niece. The one who came over to borrow a cup of sugar." She leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Which neighbor?"
'Mrs. Evans from across the street," Quinn said. "She's off on a cross-country train trip with a friend. The niece is house-sitting while she's away."
"House-sitting? Does the niece live in Gallagher?"
"Greensboro, Mrs. Evans said. And apparently she was in need of a place to stay."
"Why?" Lizzie said, her brown eyes bright with interest.
Quinn took a sip of his coffee. Strong and black. Just the way he liked it.
Lizzie said, "Why did she need a place to stay, Quinn?"
No help for it. He'd already said too much. "Mrs. Evans didn't go into that. She just said that her niece has been going through a 'bad patch' and that she had invited her to use her house while she was away."
Quinn watched Lizzie digest that. It was always dangerous to give Lizabeth unanswered questions for her imagination to play with.
"Did Mrs. Evans tell you about her niece because she wanted you to keep an eye on her?"
"No, Lizabeth, she told me about her niece because she thought I might see a strange woman going in and out of her house and wonder who she was."
"I wonder if she told the other neighbors too. Or just you because you're a cop."
"Can't answer that one," Quinn said. "The other neighbors and I haven't conferred." He picked up his menu. "Decided what you're going to have yet?"
"The seafood salad. I always have the seafood salad when we eat here."
"I thought you might be in the mood to try something new."
"Nope. I'm still trying to figure out the combination of seasonings that they use."
"Why don't you just ask for the recipe?"
"That's no fun. One more try and I should be able to duplicate it at home." She leaned back, hands in her lap. "'A patch of trouble'. I wonder what that means. What does the niece look like?"
"Long blonde hair, curvy, big blue eyes. Definitely the kind of woman to give a man a few fantasies about --"
"Quinn, you're living dangerously."
"Okay. Short, mousy, and a little spacey."
"That's better. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered if she were blonde and curvy. It was the fantasies part I was objecting to. Did she say anything when she came over to borrow the sugar?"
"She complimented me on my cheerful white and yellow kitchen."
"I meant did she said anything about --"
"Have you guys decided what you'd like?" asked their 'server' who had introduced herself as Jen, and was about nineteen and used 'guys' in the unisex style of her generation.
He considered telling Jen -- who was probably one of the Piedmont U students that he was charged to 'protect and serve' -- that even in pants, in the dark, with that boyish haircut that suited her so well, no red-blooded male would ever mistake Lizabeth for a guy. She was tall and slender, but definitely female. And in the white blouse she was wearing with that touch of discreet lace at the collar. . .too bad they both had to go back to work.
Not that Lizabeth seemed to be sharing his fantasies about how they might spend the afternoon.
"I'll have the seafood salad, please." She smiled up at Jen, their server, as she handed back the menu. "And, yes, I will be having dessert. I've been thinking about that chocolate mousse pie all morning."
Jen nodded. "I'll put a piece aside for you, in case we start getting a lunchtime run on it. Everyone loves that pie."
Jen took Quinn's order -- a turkey club on whole wheat, no pie, thanks, but keep the coffee coming -- and went away.
Quinn decided to change the subject before Lizzie could return to her conjectures about his neighbor's niece. "How was your morning? Did the meeting about the Institute's fall conference go okay?"
Lizzie nodded. "Much better than I expected." She tilted her head. "Actually, I have something to tell you. I had a telephone call this morning. From New York."

Good Neighbors (Scene II)

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 01:25:44 -0400

[Note: See earlier blog entry for Scene I]

Quinn reached for the sugar canister. "I hope you don't mind if I put this in a mug rather than a tea cup."
"No, a mug is fine." Her fingers worried the belt of her raincoat, tightening it over whatever she was wearing beneath. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Miranda Robinson."
"John Quinn," Quinn said.
"I know. Aunt Deborah told me your name."
"I think she mentioned yours too. But thank you for reminding me."
Quinn held out the mug filled with sugar. She took it and then glanced around the kitchen. "This is nice. I like the yellow walls and the cabinets. The white and yellow is really nice."
"The credit goes to the previous owners," Quinn said. He glanced at the wall clock. "I'm enjoying our conversation, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave in a few minutes --"
Her face flushed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I should have thought --"
"Not to worry," Quinn said. "It's just one of those mornings when I have a meeting scheduled first thing."
"Aunt Deborah said that you're the police chief at the university. That must be interesting."
"Most of the time. Some days more than others."
"When you're a police officer, I guess you never know what might happen next. There are so many crazy people out there these days."
"A few," Quinn agreed.
She glanced around the kitchen again. "I really do like the yellow and white. It's so cheerful."
"Thank you. Look, I hate to rush you out but I --"
"Oh, I'm chattering on again!" She made a face. "I'm a complete idiot before I have my morning coffee. I'll get out of here and let you get off to work."
"Let me walk you to the door."
At the door, she held out her hand. "Thank you for the sugar. It's really nice to meet you."
Quinn took the small, slightly damp hand, that lie there limply in his. He shook it. "You're welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you too."
She waved as she went down the walk.
George grinned up at him, slapping his tail against the floor. "Our new neighbor seems a little spacey," Quinn told him. George slapped his tail again. Quinn pointed toward the basement door. "Let's go, old man."
Leaving George in the basement with a fresh bowl of water, Quinn bounded up the steps and grabbed his briefcase.
He was half-way out the front door when the telephone rang. With a curse, he strode into the kitchen and scooped up the receiver of the wall phone.
"Quinn," he said.
"Stuart here," Lizzie said.
"Hi, Stuart. It's eight seventeen. I thought you planned to sleep in this morning."
"I did. But someone set off a car alarm." She yawned. "Excuse me."
"You excused. What's up?"
"I remembered something I forgot to tell you last night when you joined me in bed."
"That you find me utterly irresistible?"
"No. As I recall, I told you that."
"That you love me?"
"Told you that too." She yawned again. "But I forgot to tell you about the rat."
"What rat?"
"The rat from yesterday afternoon when I stopped by to let George out because you were going to be late getting back from Richmond. He found a dead rat in the back yard. I had to make him drop it. And then I had to brush his teeth because his breath smelled like dead rat. Thank goodness, you had that toothpaste you got from the vet."
"It did the trick, huh?"
"Yes, after I had brushed his teeth twice. And washed his face. And given him a dry shampoo all over just for good measure."
Quinn laughed. "Believe it or not, Lizabeth, when you're not around, George sometimes has things in his mouth that --"
"What I don't see can't make me gag. Speaking of that rat, Quinn --"
"I'll toss it in the garbage before I leave. Today is pick-up day."
"Good. Because it's going to be hot later."
Quinn glanced at the clock. "Sorry, babe, I've got to run. Between my neighbor's niece and George's rat, I'm about to be late."
"Your neighbor's niece?"
"Who needed to borrow a cup of sugar. I've tell you about her later."
"Okay. Just make sure she knows you're spoken for."
Quinn smiled. "Staking your claim, Professor? Do you happen to be free for lunch?"
"Yes, as it happens, I am. If you'd like to come by my office at around noon."
"I'll be there."
"Wash your hands after you throw the rat away."
Quinn laughed. "I'll brush my teeth too."

Scene from Frankie's Workbook

nospam@example.com (Frankie) — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 23:59:43 -0400

As promised, I will be posting a series of scenes over the next few months which might evolve into a complete short story. These are scenes I'm playing with as I work on the new novel, my notes to myself about what Lizzie and Quinn are up to before the new book begins.

Good Neighbors (Scene I)

George, his yellow Lab, barked before the knock came on the open door. Quinn turned from closing his briefcase and faced the woman who was standing there. The first thing he noticed were her eyes. They were bloodshot as if she had been crying, pale blue in a washed-out face. She might have been thirty or forty-five.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hesitant. "I'm staying in my aunt's house across the street. . ."
Quinn nodded, "She mentioned you'd be house-sitting for her. Welcome to the neighborhood."
A smile flickered around her mouth and disappeared. "Thank you." She took an audible breath and drew herself up to her full 5'3" or 5"4". "I'm sorry to bother you at this time of the morning, but I wonder if you have some sugar. I'm dying for a cup of coffee, and I can't drink it without sugar. All Aunt Deborah has is some kind of organic sweetener."
"Come on in," Quinn said, moving down the hall. "That's what neighbors are for." He threw her a smile. "To be there when you need to borrow something."
She stood there in the kitchen, arms wrapped around her waist, in a bedraggled beige raincoat. Since it was already 70 degrees outside, he assumed she had thrown it on over her nightgown.