Saturday, January 28, 2012

Stranger than fiction: more body parts

A body in Arizona is missing its head, hands, and feet:

The cops there don't think they connect with the LA parts.

Which killer is the copy cat? When I wrote my book, I had no idea that adding up body parts was such a common problem.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Monday, January 23, 2012

The extremes of the Annisquam River

See how narrow the river can be at low tide and how the Annisquam Yacht Club stands high and dry.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Building a mystery: another excerpt

Long ago, as the North American continent rose out of the ocean, a cut of Atlantic water split a large chunk of land away from the New England coast. This separated landmass persisted as an island, but when Captain John Smith arrived in 1614, he mapped and labeled it as a cape. Later cartographers corrected his map, but never corrected his label. To make matters worse, when they added the divisive waterway, they called it a river. It did not qualify as such, however, since it was open to the ocean at both ends and its direction of flow reversed with each change in tide. Even today’s official U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey charts have perpetuated this inaccuracy by accepting Eel River as its name. Because it flowed and was narrow, it did seem like a river. 

Sunday, January 8, 2012

A great location for a mystery

Let’s begin exploring Annisquam. Here’s what sits at the tip of the peninsula as seen from across the river on Wingaersheek Beach. It’s a long shot, it’s low tide, but it’s a good place to start because the fluctuating Annisquan River is crucial to the community and the novel.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Building a mystery: an excerpt

Although the peninsula offered the murderer many escape routes by water, there was but one exit by land. This was the strip of sand-covered rock connecting the peninsula to the cape. Competing for this sliver of terrain were an obvious church and an unobtrusive road. The former shielded the latter from view, so incursion onto the peninsula became a specific, conscious, and swift decision. By forcing a hairpin turn to leave the highway, the pairing was a belt and suspenders defense against intrusion. … 
This main road divided shortly after the church to form a loop that ringed the peninsula. Heading south, hugging the cove that broadened into the harbor, the road crawled clockwise down to the tip of the point. There, turning abruptly to the north, it snaked up alongside the river to coil back in a full circle just before the church. … 
In effect, the village was caught within a lasso of black macadam. To escape this noose by land, the killer would have had to flee across the isthmus.