The Stair Landing: Across the River

The Stair Landing: Across the River

Across the River...to Mysterious Matters

I don't know who Agatho is, but I adore him and Mystery Matters.

Across the River...and on the Beach

The book-signing at Murder on the Beach was a great success and great fun, thanks to my mom and uber-social Aunt Theresa Natale rallying her book club and other friends. Bookstore manager Joanne Sinchuk was wonderful and hilarious. (Ask her what she REALLY thinks about Patricia Cornwell.)

This was icing on a cake that was already well-frosted the night before. I had gone straight from the airport to the bookstore just in time to catch Linda Fairstein's talk and pick up her latest, Lethal Legacy. As she signed my copy, I reminded her that I'd interviewed her a few years back for Mystery Scene magazine. "Of course! And you have a signing here tomorrow. I can't make it, but tell Joanne to put your book on my pile." Turns out she had put aside a stack of books to buy. Even better, the next day, straight-from-the-hip-shooter Joanne said, "Some people buy other authors' books just to be nice, then they leave them behind. BUT SHE TOOK YOURS WITH HER."

So now not only does the fair Fairstein have my book on her credit card, she may actually read it. Be still my heart!

Across the River...and Under the Palms

Trying not to hyperventilate about tomorrow night's speak-and-sign at Murder on the Beach. A tough act to follow: Tonight Linda Fairstein will be there talking up her latest, Lethal Legacy. I had the joy of interviewing brilliant, funny, just plain nice Linda for Mystery Scene a few years ago, and her history as the head of the groundbreaking Manhattan District Attorney's Sex Crimes Unit was/is fascinating. My plane should land in time for me to catch her in the act.

Then on to Sleuthfest. On Friday at 11 a.m., I'm co-leading a workshop with Oline Cogdill of the Sun-Sentinel on getting press coverage. (Those who can do, those who can't....) Saturday's 3:15 panel on Humor in mysteries should be---or BETTER be--a laugh. The pressure's on to be funny, but Elaine Viets and Rhonda Pollero will be on the panel with me, so maybe I can just sit back and enjoy the show.

Of course, it might be useful for me to finish packing and get on the freaking plane...

Across the River...to Law & Order

Well, looks like I'll get a chance to research the inner workings of the Florida police while I'm down in the Sunshine State for my book-signing and Sleuthfest. On Dec. 29, my mom was mugged in her local Publix parking lot. She-devil that she is, Jaye hung on to her purse--which did not foil the theft but did fracture one of her fingers. On Jan. 19, I found a message on my cellphone from "Latif," who somehow had possession of the purse contents (including my phone number, but also ID and credit cards, keys, irreplaceable family photos, and rosary beads blessed by Pope John Paul George Ringo), claimed that he knew who the thief was and wanted to contact my mother. I urged him instead to bring the items to the police, then hung up and immediately called the Palm Beach County sheriff's department. They put a detective on the case. But yesterday Latif turned in the goods on his own, and the DelRay PD wants Mom to come down to identify her belongings. So that's on our agenda for my week under the palms. FYI: The alleged mugger is Latif's son-in-law. "He's got a rap sheet," said my mom, an avid crime-fiction fan. As traumatic as this was for her, I loved hearing my 5'2" 77-year-old mom talk like Lennie Briscoe from Law & Order. Then my mother says she’s doesn’t know if she can ID the guy if they show her mugshots, but she’ll pray for him. To which I say, "Yeah, and in the meantime, he’ll be preying on other little old ladies. Take him down, Mom."

Across the River...with WHATSIS

While responding to Liz Zelvin's post on a Sisters in Crime forum recently, I coined a new medical malady:

Homonym aphasia: n. An affliction of middle-aged spelling-bee champions characterized by substituting sound-alike words (threw for through, two for too, etc.) in written communication

Want to join the E-Race for a Cure? (We who suffer from HA! are always erasing.) Liz is reaching out for new members of WHATSIS on her co-blog, Poe's Deadly Daughters.

Across the River...with an AARP

Just got my latest issue of AARP (named after one of several unfortunate noises the body starts emitting at regular intervals in middle age). Intrigued by the coverline "GLENN CLOSE: Why she's risking so much to erase the shame of mental illness," I quickly consumed the article. Turns out that the actress best known for boiling a rabbit is not herself mentally ill. Her shame (insert sarcasm here), it seems, is in having relatives with bipolar and schizoaffective disorders.

The article--through no fault of the fabulous and lucid Ms. Close--is ironic at best. Here the Oscar-nominated Emmy winner is "headlining a campaign intended to diminish the stigma of mental illness" and the writer makes mental illness seem indeed to be a stigma. You'd think she had confessed to a virulent case of chlamydia or to offering Barack Obama's Senate seat to the highest bidder.

Exactly what Ms. Close is risking "so much" is unclear. Ostracization from Hollywood--at the tender age of 61? It is clear how the entertainment world treats the mentally ill: They're given a Grammy Award and chauffeured to the Sony/BMG after-party. (Note to Britney Spears' folks: Erratic behavior in early adulthood is a classic sign of several disorders. Get her diagnosed and treated NOW.)

Ms. Close is lauded as one of 10 "heroes who inspire us," and her cause is certainly worthy. But what about her relative who had to make the choice between a new coat for her child or a visit to her therapist? We don't learn what her final choice was and how it affected her and her family. (I'm hoping Ms. Close just wrote her a check for both. Not that that solves every problem.)

The most heroic people I know get up each morning to face a battle raging in their own heads, with little relief. I don't know how they do it. Some choose not to do it after a while. Over 90% of people who die from suicide have one or more psychiatric disorders. Just ferreting out the proper treatment, if that ever happens, would test the strongest mental health.

But like Ms. Close, I am still surprised by how uncomfortable most people are talking about these issues. It's estimated that 5 percent of the population has some form of MI, from severe depression to schizophrenia, and it affects one out of four families. If not you, then someone who shares your bank of work cubicles, sits in your pew at church, works on the same PTA committee. In this let-it-all-hang-out world of reality shows, why does dealing with mental health issues merit less attention than Jeff Conaway screwing up in rehab?

In discussions about my novel, only a few readers/reviewers comment on Cat, the bipolar twin sister. Those that do confide about their own family members. They speak of them with much affection, not shame. Mental illness doesn't take away our loved ones' sense of humor, intelligence and straight-to-the-heart observations.

And sometimes they cope better then the rest of us. When I admitted to my brother that it's hard for me to be happy when people I love are in pain, he said (actually, he yelled), "I'm not in pain! I'm bipolar! Get over it! Enjoy your life!"

That's why I love him and why I agree that, as he always says, he can't be killed by ordinary weapons.