Blog Relay for Dorte Hummelshøj Jakobsen’s The Cosy Knave: Answer to Question 8

Today I have the baton in the blog relay for Dorte Hummelshøj Jakobsen’s new novel, The Cozy Knave. I'm revealing the answer to question number 8. And question number 9 follows. You will have to follow the link below to find out the answer to number 9! What a great idea for a book launch interview, don’t you think?

Yesterday’s question was: What makes your cosy cosy?

As question 2 indicates, I began plotting and writing The Cosy Knave almost out of the blue. Of course I had some vague ideas about what constituted a cosy, but shortly before I embarked on my new subgenre, I consulted a blogger who is a real expert so I had a chance of getting it right. These days, all rules are there to be challenged, of course, still I thought it would be a good idea to stick to these five rules of thumb:

a) an amateur sleuth with a useful job or position, but also someone who can get help from the police when she needs it: the librarian Rhapsody, engaged to the local constable.
b) a suitable setting: a small village where everybody knows everybody else, including their sordid - or silly - secrets, the kind of place that tend to make you forget that the good, old days never really existed.
c) the right kind of crimes, meaning a couple of murders are all right, as long as the readers are spared the dirty truths about the shock and pain they cause. For once, bloodthirsty old Macbeth got it right when he said: "If it were done when ´tis done then ´twere well it were done quickly´.
d) plenty of quirky characters: readers will expect prattling dog walkers, stuck-up mushroom ´experts´, taciturn farmers and constables called Smith, Wesson and Winchester.
e) finally, the traditional cosy is expected to be free of sex scenes and swearing - so this is the perfect gift for granny, your young daughter, or anyone who likes having their crime candied.

Thanks, Dorte, for letting me participate! I cannot wait to read your new book!

So here is the next question in the relay:

9) Do you consider yourself a cosy mystery writer, or do you plan to publish in other sub-genres?

To find out the answer, you will have to head to Clarissa Draper´s blog tomorrow!

Even when you hate a book you learn something

This summer, in my post-tenure euphoria, I have dedicated myself to expanding my reading horizons: meeting new authors, sampling new genres, and, most gratifying, making a few new friends along the way. One of the ways I have pushed my boundaries is by joining some reading challenges, including the voluminous Summer 2010 Reading Challenge at Goodreads. I figured reading the reviews of favorite books was a great way to expand my own TBR list.

This is how I first encountered the term “cozy murder.” Certainly, I read some Miss Marple books as a kid, and I watched Jessica Fletcher solve the murders of the Cabot Cove natives, who were slaughtered at a seemingly higher rate than Maine’s summer mosquito population. But I didn’t know there was A) a name for this kind of light mystery, and B) a proliferation of series in this “by women, for women mayhem” vein. My feminist sensibilities were intrigued, and I do love a good mystery now and then, so I tracked down one of the most ballyhooed series – the Hannah Swensen mysteries by Joanne Fluke – and got busy with The Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder.

But this post is not a rant about a poorly conceptualized and overly written beach book. (My alter-ego, Acerbi-Col, might have to share this sentence about the cat: "Moishe's favorite activities when she was gone were eating and napping." Really? Do I need to know this? Now if Moishe played the concertina, that would be worth mentioning. But napping? A cat? You get the idea.) Instead, today’s post is about accepting that there are some roads you just haven’t taken, and aren’t going to take. Some groups you can never be part of. Some jokes you are never going to get. And that’s actually okay with me, finally.

Is that a leap from forcing myself to read one (admittedly, well-loved) book from a whole genre? I guess so. My first reaction after finishing The Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder was this: “What am I not getting?” If thousands of people like this kind of thing, why can’t I enjoy it? But as I mulled it over, my reaction quickly evolved to this: “What do I need from reading that this book didn’t provide?” And that’s a much better question. Because there’s a difference between testing boundaries and wasting time. And the things I’m looking for – a deeper understanding of culture and family and womanhood and people’s inner struggles to do the decent thing in a wicked world – just can’t be found in some parts of the book publishing world.

Net result? Time to cull the TBR list. I’ll build it up again carefully, reading reviews and thinking about my objectives for reading – and not be influenced by the questionable wisdom of crowds. And no more reading a book just to fit it into a challenge. Life’s too short, and there are a lot of great authors out there with new takes on the age-old problems of living in a complex society. It’s not like comedy is off the list, or even absurdity. I just want my time to be well spent.