Sissy That Walk

Release day!!!! You can order it here, or get it from your local bookstore! Thanks!

And it’s Halloween, which makes it all the more perfect!

If you’d like to get to know the main character, Jem Richard, a little better, he wrote “A Day in the Life” post for Dru’sBook Musing that went live yesterday (thanks, Dru!!!). I like Jem, and had a lot of fun creating my accidental drag queen–because Death Drop is really the origin story of how Jem became a “killer queen”–a drag queen who solves mysteries.

I love origin stories, always have; which is kind of what Bourbon Street Blues was; the Scotty as a private eye origin story. The thing with writing amateur sleuths, which often can become a problem, is the unreality of it all; every day people rarely encounter murder mysteries, and real life murders usually aren’t terribly complicated (although there are some true crime stories and trials that beggar the creative mind), I used to call it the Jessica Fletcher syndrome–everywhere Fletcher went, someone died–and if she was visiting a relative that person would become a suspect. The show ran forever and the tie-in book series is also still going strong. (And yes, I am aware that private eyes mostly work on adultery and insurance fraud rather than solving murders…my mind isn’t always as logical as it could be.) I made a joke out of it in the Scotty books–he’s always stumbling over bodies–but I also didn’t want to do the same thing again in a different series.

That’s the problem with series–you want to be original with the new characters and everything. I had mentioned before how i wanted to write a new series only to realize the character I was creating was really just a mash-up of Scotty and Chanse. I was really worried about that with creating Jem, too–how to avoid making him a combination of my previous gay series set in New Orleans.

Like Valerie in A Streetcar Named Murder, I decided to make Jem of New Orleans but not of New Orleans. His father was born and raised there, but moved to Dallas after college and getting married, which is where Jem grew up. He spent the summers with his paternal grandmother in New Orleans; she had her own salon catering to upper class Uptown women and Jem loved hanging out in the Beauty Shoppe. I developed an entire back story for his childhood, but didn’t include most of it other than his parents are a bit uncomfortable with his sexuality and his older brothers were athletes…and he was not. His family was Mee Maw and her house on St. Roch in the 7th Ward…and when she died, she left him her house and he moved to New Orleans after a break-up and several years working in a high-end salon in Dallas.

Now, he doesn’t want to work in a salon again so he does glam for wealthy women, gets gigs working on touring theater companies, or films and television shows filming here. The income isn’t always steady, but when it’s there the money is good. I really became rather fond of Jem, and here is the scene where he becomes an accidental drag queen:

“How tall are you?” I heard Ellis ask from behind me as Tamponia String left my chair.

“I’m five five,” I replied, wiping the table clean with a sanitary wipe. “Why?”

“Please tell me you wear a men’s eight shoe.”

“I do,” I replied cautiously. “Why are you asking?”

“Turn around.” I did, to see Ellis looking me up and down thoughtfully. “You are almost exactly the same size as Trailor Swift.”

Uh oh. “And?”

“Trailor just called,” Ellis gave me a rueful smile. “She broke her ankle, so can’t make it, so we’re a model short—”

“Oh, no, no.” I waved my hand. “Sorry, Ellis, but—”

“Three hundred dollars? And you get to save the show?” He winked at me. “Trailor was going to wear the wedding gown at the end. Haven’t you always wanted to be a bride?”

“I don’t think I ever want to get married,” I retorted. “Seriously, Ellis, can’t you get someone else? You have to know someone you can get at short notice?”

“They’d never get here on time and we’d have to start late—Marigny would lose her mind and no one needs to see that,” Ellis said grimly. “Look, you killed on Fat Tuesday, I know you can do this.”

“But I don’t have padding or boobs or a wig—”

Ellis clapped his hands. “Queens, may I have your attention please?” Silence descended. “Trailor broke her ankle and can’t make it, but the show must go on.” He gestured at me. ”Jem here is the right size to fit into her gowns, but we need to get her made up and her hair done and she doesn’t have any wigs—”

Every eye in the room turned to me.

There was dead silence. I was about to decline the opportunity again when Floretta snapped her fingers, “Come on girls, we’ve got to turn this boy into a Queen!”

And they fell upon me.

And you know, with all the oppression being directed (all lies, as always) by the trash on the right (looking at you, LibsofTikTok; sorry you’re trash and no one loves you or ever will), it just felt right to center a new series on a drag queen.

I really like Jem; hope you all do too!