Murder Most Poetic

Hubby did a little Amazon indulging, and chucked in a couple of titles for me...

Murder Most Poetic: The Mystery Novels of Ngaio Marsh.
By Mary S Weinkauf

Can't resist anything Ngaio.





The Devil's Dozen: How Cutting -Edge Forensics Took Down 12 Notorious Serial Killers, by Katherine Ramsland


A useful book for a gal in my profession.

Hubby's indulgences involved books on Frank Lloyd Wright, and Sarah Susanka's The Not So Big House.

It never hurts to dream now, does it...

Haiku?

A while ago I posted this Hone Tuwhare poem from the pavements of Queen Street in Auckland and asked if any one knew the context of it. Aspiring Writer posted this lovely piece about it, with the original Hone Tuwhare Haiku. (pictured below)




I wonder why the Queen Street version has replaced 'creek-bed' with the Maori word 'Horotiu', which makes it 18 syllables, and therefore no longer a Haiku?

Message du jour

Wisdom from the fridge...



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And here's the Theakston's Short List...

I should have put this on my post yesterday, but it was too cold in my office and I was experiencing symptoms of mild hypothermia. Speaking of which, it is supposed to snow tomorrow - let's hope they get it right this time, as I'm still looking forward to that snow ball fight!

The short list for the Theakston Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year is:

- Death Message - Mark Billingham
- The Accident Man - Tom Cain
- Bad Luck And Trouble - Lee Child
- Gone To Ground - John Harvey
- Ritual - Mo Hayder
- Garden Of Evil - David Hewson
- A Cure For All Diseases - Reginald Hill
- The Colour Of Blood - Declan Hughes
- Dead Man’s Footsteps - Peter James
- Broken Skin - Stuart MacBride
- Beneath The Bleeding - Val McDermid
- Exit Music - Ian Rankin
- Friend Of The Devil - Peter Robinson
- Savage Moon - Chris Simms

Visit here to vote...

Theakston's Old Peculier

It's voting time again for the Theakston's Old Peculier (no, not peculiar, and I know your brain read it that way!) Crime Novel of the Year Award. This award is in conjunction with the Harrogate Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in Britain, and the point of difference is...ta dah...it is decided by you, yes you can vote for the book you think deserves to be named the best crime novel of the year.

There is a short list you can choose from, so no, you can't vote for me, and I know you all would have, but you can go here to vote.

I've read three from the list, Death Message by Mark Billingham, Ritual by Mo Hayder and Exit Music by Ian Rankin.

If I was forced to vote on those three I'd be ticking Mo's box.

(Thanks Kiwicraig for the heads-up)

I swear...

...well, at least Sam Shephard does occasionally in my novels, and this oddly enough is about the only thing I get complaints about in reader feedback and email. I think this is hilarious, because no one seems to have an issue with the fact some one has been brutally murdered, and that bad guys are running around the place and people are being assaulted and dreadful things are happening. Noooo. I get pulled up because every now-and-again, when extremely provoked, Sam Shephard will let fly with an f-word.

I had one lady come up to me before a talk and ask very earnestly why I had to use language like that. And I explained, very gently that Sam Shephard comes off a farm, and had spent a lot of time around the shearing shed and her brothers, and when someone is busy trying to kill her or at least do her serious bodily harm she is most unlikely to come out with an "oh bother." So I think the f-word is quite well justified.

But it does make me chuckle that a rare swear word is offensive, but killing people is OK.

(-:

A bonus day and a movie

Today the kids' school (and most of them around the country) had a "Teacher Only Day." This phrase always has me imagining them tearing around the school, playing with the paints, playing on the playground , all under the influence of too much sauvignon blanc and partying it up - this is the teachers I'm thinking about, not the kids, in case you were wondering!

End result for us was a four day weekend - excellent, even if the weather left a lot to be desired. Today I got to do something I haven't done for well over a year - go to a movie. We trooped off to see A Night at the Museum 2. Like all movies with repetitive titles that end with the numeral 2 or 3 or 5 or 18 or whatever, it wasn't as good as the first one, but was still mighty good entertainment. It also got me thinking I must get to the movies more often, there's something about that big screen.

Museums would be splendid places to knock someone off, or dump a body, if you could get around the CCTV and those pesky kids. But it could be a good venue for a cosy thriller. Lots of interesting dioramas you could add touch of authenticity to, basements full of weird things in jars where you could pickle a little extra someone else, add a very fresh taxidermy display, that crocodile on the third floor could finally claim a victim, and why does the mummy look slightly taller this week? Hmmmm.