I was Executive Vice President of Mystery Writers of America for three years (2020-2022), and it isn’t something I talk about much. I never wanted to be seen as using this volunteer position (which basically was chairman of the board) to promote myself or my career, which is why I never really talked about it much other than referring to it here as “my volunteer work.” It was exhausting, exhilarating, and frustrating at the same time. I dealt with a lot of firsts–first EVP to cancel the Edgar banquet, first EVP who had a Grand Master die on him before the Edgar presentation, on and on and on–but one thing I am really proud of that I accomplished in the role was the creation of the Lillian Jackson Braun Award, facilitated by two board members. Cozies are often overlooked when it comes to awards–they are the romance novels of the crime fiction community, looked down on, mocked, and not taken seriously–and I’ve experienced crime writers talking smack about cozies from even before I was published. The establishment of this award was a first step, I felt, for MWA to appreciate and uplift this subgenre so that it’s taken more seriously.
I had always wanted to write one, and that became A Streetcar Named Murder. I’ve also been reading more of them, too, since I realized I had allowed the opinion of others to influence my reading habits. I’ve long enjoyed Donna Andrews’ and Ellen Hart’s series, and there are so many terrific cozy writers out there…Ellen Byron, Sherry Harris, Katherine Hall Page, Leslie Budewitz; the list could go on forever, really.
So I’d been meaning to get around to the first Lillian Jackson Braun winner, presented earlier this year–and what a pleasant surprise Buried in a Good Book by Tamara Berry turned out to be.
“There are at least three dead bodies in there.”
Tess Harrow stood in front of the log cabin, mentally calculating where each of the corpses would be found. The basement would have one of them. She could see damp seeping up from the underground barracks, the stonework crumbling with neglect. It would be a crime not to store a body there. The lean-to on one side of the cabin, which was living up to its name and looked one strong breeze away from toppling over, was ideal for another. The chimney was large enough for someone small, and…
“Four. Four dead bodies.”
She nodded once and hefted her suitcase. There would be an additional corpse under the porch–she was sure of it. The rotted wood and craggy slates made the perfect cover for one final interment.
“You are so weird,” muttered Gertrude. Tess’ s teenaged daughter didn’t bother lifting her own suitcase, opting instead to dragit on the ground. The bump of the bag matched the slump of her shoulders. The prospect of sharing her home with a few corpses wasn’t doing much to improve a mood that had been questionable to begin with. “Please tell me we at least have Wi-fi out here.”
At first, I wasn’t sure what was going on in this opening sequence, and Berry draws this out a little bit, as we slowly are introduced to bestselling thriller writer Tess Harrow and her teenaged daughter, Gertrude (Gertie). Tess and Gertie’s father divorced some six months before the start of the book, and he’s pretty much ignored her since leaving Tess for a younger woman. Tess, behind on her latest book–she hasn’t started it–decided to remove herself and her daughter from Seattle and come out to stay at her grandfather’s extremely rural cabin–no power, running water, or wi-fi–so she can focus on finishing her book and get Gertie away from the Internet so she won’t know her dad isn’t reaching out to her. Within moments of their arrival, they head down to the pond on the property just as the water explodes and it starts raining fish–and body parts. A dead body had been in the pond, and the “blast fishing” not only killed the fish but dredged up the corpse. Soon we meet the local sheriff–a dead ringer for Tess’s police detective, and she starts plotting her new book by basing it on what is happening around her.
This is an wickedly clever concept: Tess isn’t investigating the murder, but trying to figure out how to plot her book since it’s based on the criminal investigation going on around her. These are some of the most amusing parts of the book–as Tess tries to change the crime so it’s not obvious she is basing it on a true crime, and changing characters and relationships around so they don’t bear too close a resemblance to the real thing, but she keeps stumbling on clues–and the police detective is getting awfully tired of her bizarre theories and interruptions. Berry makes this even funnier, by having the cop actually be one of her readers, and constantly telling her how she gets things wrong in her books. There are a lot of weird things going on up on these woods–and every element, no matter how disparate, ties in to the mystery–a flock of toucans, an eccentric’s missing cat, Bigfoot sightings, and a town full of suspects, including identical triplets (I did this in a book too!)–and there were several points where I had no idea how this was all going to play out and work out, but I was also having an incredibly good time reading it. It’s funny, and I really like the characters of Tess and Gertie, as well as their supporting cast.
I am looking forward to the next for sure!
Queer and Loathing in America 