Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Slang-o-Matic Extravaganza by Guest Author Randall Platt

Please welcome honored guest author and serious slang aficionado, Randall Platt (aka "that Platt woman").  So just who is this Randall Platt?

Taking the words right from her mouth: She writes fiction for adults and young adults and people who don’t own up to being either. A three-time winner of the WILLA Literary award for young adult fiction, she has been a finalist for the Washington State Book Award three times, in addition to winning several other state and national awards. Check out her three latest novels, all dripping with slang! 

INCOMMUNICADO 

THE GIRL WHO WOULDN’T DIE 

PROFESSOR RENOIR’S COLLECTION OF ODDITIES, CURIOSITIES, AND DELIGHTS 

Her books are available at bookstores everywhere and online outlets galore, but, as Randi points out, it sure is good to support your local indie bookstore. She adds, "I am on Facebook, but only as a real person, not a writer—not that a writer can’t be a real person, too. I guess." www.plattbooks.com

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Thanks for the guest spot, Ann! 

When folks learn about my passion for slang and the resulting interactive database I created, which I call Slang-O-Matic, the first thing they ask is, ‘How did this monstrosity all come about?’ Honestly? It all came about with a book review. The reviewer had questioned some terms I used in my first novel, The Four Arrows Fe-As-Ko (1992) about four mentally and physically challenged adults running the largest cattle ranch in Eastern Oregon. I did my due diligence and researched the heck out of the language of the day, the situation, and the people. From that point on, I decided I would create a database of the terms I used, especially since that novel was the first book in a three-book series. I was able to keep the language and the slanguage consistent from book to book. Handy, huh?

Gosh, I sure like Slang-O-Matic. I can’t wait to say THAT to Mom!

Well, as with many things in a writer’s life, my database took on much larger proportions and grew with each subsequent novel involving other eras and situations. I finally trademarked my tag line:

Slang-O-Matic—for the color of our speech.

Because we don’t speak,

nor should we write,

in black and white. 

What’s interesting to me as I explore the ‘history’ of a term, is how the internet and social media and of course, television and film, changed how a term can come into being and spread in an instant. Slang from the 19th Century and earlier took about ten years to ‘make the rounds.’ Today, a word can come in and out of favor within days. And of course, we writers need to be aware of that and make sure our readers of tomorrow will understand the slang of today. Conversely, readers of today might not understand the slang of yesterday. Proceed with caution. Everything needs to be in context.

Wow, according to Slang-O-Matic, there are over 174 references to coke
and not one of them referring to what’s in my hand.

Take for instance the common word ‘bug.’ According to Slang-O-Matic, there are 135 slang entries that contain ‘bug.’ It can mean anything from a bribe, to annoy, a crazy person, a cheating device, a jockey’s weight allowance, a tie pin, a bad student, a germ, to a strong desire to cheap tobacco. 

It seems the more taboo a subject is, the more slang surrounds it—take for instance the lower portions of one’s body. I count 221 terms which might be medical slang or street slang or child-speak for such areas and their functions. I will never want for a great slang term for one’s behind or procreation apparatus.

Why call a cab when you can call a ramble, a trip, a coffee grinder, a cracker box, a flapdoodle, a jarvey, or a jar box? Why call a drunk a drunk when you can choose from alki stiff, belch-guts, blossom-nose, boozington, bottle baby, croak, dipso, gin head, glow worm, light-house (big glowing red nose), soak, swillpot, malt-worm, drain pipe, or my personal favorite, a lush merchant? 

Folks usually wonder how I use my database for my own work. Since I have eight fields of information for each of my 43,000 (and counting) entries, I can easily manipulate the database for my needs. For instance, I am current working on book which takes place in the 1930s and my characters are from the fortune telling trades, the banking trades, the radio trades, and the con artistry trades. I have broken terms down to hundreds of categories - so, for this book, I call up slang and cant from the banking, carnival, con artist, and radio industries. Then I sort the terms by the date and my database returns a list of the terms used from 1920 to 1940, to cover the approximate timeline of my novel. So, if my conservative banking character needs to delicately refer to a woman as a whore, I can chose from my list of over 375 terms for ‘whore’: 

• pro skirt 
• QT cutie 
• trick babe 
• charity girl 
• soft lady 
• two-by-four (rhymes with ‘whore’) 
• soft lady 
• B-girl 
• behavior problem 
• boulevard woman 
• clever girl 

 Now, my con artist character, being much more worldly and of the streets herself, might refer to that same whore in much less charitable terms, such as 

• artichoke 
• blisterine 
• blowser 
• brass nail 
• hat rack 
• jump 
• mudkicker 
• notch girl 
• round heel 
• scupper 

See the difference? Fun, huh?

 

So what began as someone questioning some terms I used decades ago as anachronistic, has evolved into those editors, writers, and book reviewers coming to me with their questions. I am certainly not the world’s foremost expert on slang, but I sure as heck know a thing or two by now. I always welcome questions regarding this along with any idea as to how to exploit all this work. 

Help! Before I slang again! 

Oh, dear. Billy’s been reading Slang-O-Matic again!

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Chicken scratch (by DMcC)

Please give three cheers for the return of my assistant Slang-o-rama-ist, Devyn McC! Devyn is a designer-editor-cartoonist, currently lurking near Portland, OR. 

Examples of Devyn’s work can be found at this here link and in the Slang-o-Rama archive.

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Recently I was browsing a certain bird-themed app when I came across what has become one of my favorite accounts yet: @KidsWriteJokes, which publishes “genuine joke attempts by children” … many of which are genuinely strange! These include brand-new, never-before-seen jokes:

 (I can appreciate a comedian who’s emotionally honest. Source: https://twitter.com/kidswritejokes/status/917292905357864960)

As well as new takes on old classics… 

 (The whims of a chicken are a mysterious force indeed. Source: https://twitter.com/kidswritejokes/status/1102701521005879297)

All this fowl humor reminded me of a certain tidbit of slang that’s been wandering around my mind: chicken scratch! As someone with chronically illegible lettering (y’all are lucky this blog is typed and not handwritten), I found myself wondering about the origins of this peck-uliar phrase.

Let’s see what we can dig up. 

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Starting with the steadfast Merriam Webster, chicken scratch (the noun) is defined as: “an illegible or scarcely legible mark intended as handwriting.” While I didn’t find definitive evidence, most likely the term arose due to the visual similarity between illegible text and the messy footprints of a hungry chicken. (For a fine example, check out this video of chickens scratching / dancing for grubs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AD37ka9NIUg)

In my poking and pecking around for etymology, I did find Green’s Dictionary of Slang noted that chicken scratch—as well as the variations chicken tracks and hen tracks—are of American origin, and have been recorded in use as far back as 1854. Here are a few actual quotes that had me cluckling—I mean, chuckling: 

• An 1870 issue of the Lawrence Daily Journal (KS): “A stranger, who happened to see some of the aforeseaid prairie chicken tracks upon the unprinted manuscript, innocently inquired if the writer was one of the sufferers in the recent railroad accident.” 
• An 1882 issue of the Salt Lake Herald (UT): “The horny-fisted old chicken tracks of farmer Jones when placed at the business end of a cheque.” 
• An 1885 Bulletin from Sydney, Australia: “‘What do you think of my handwriting, and would you advise me to change it?’ […] Think you should employ another hen to scratch for you.”

To be fair, I’m sure a chicken would make a fine employee—I hear they’re great at Egg-cel spreadsheets.

According to Wiktionary, a number of other languages also have feathery phrases for bad handwriting, including: 

• German Krähenfüße (“crow’s feet”) 
• Vietnamese chữ như gà bới (“like letters by a chicken”) 
• Russian как ку́рица лапой (“like a chicken’s foot”) 
• Polish jak kura pazurem (“like a chicken with a claw”) 
• Finnish harakanvarvas (“magpie toe”)

While the species and language vary, I think these bits o’ slang point to a universal truth: birds have pretty poor penmanship.

If you’re interested in more chicken humor, @KidsWriteJokes is a great place to start, as well as this post on the origins of the classic “why did the chicken cross the road?” by the punny and insightful newsletter Under the Henfluence. (UtH has many other fascinating chicken-related musings, including stories of chickens traveling to unexpected places.)

One final tidbit: the Oxford Dictionary notes that chicken scratch is also the name of a “type of dance music originating among the Pima and Tohono O'odham peoples of the Sonoran desert region of the United States and Mexico, blending European and Mexican influences and adapted from the polka.” Here’s an example of a chicken scratch tune—also called “Waila”—to delight your ears:

I hope that puts some pep in your step!

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: 1940s slang (by guest author Camille Minichino)

Please welcome good buddy and guest Slang-o-rama blogger, Camille Minichino. Camille is the author of 28 mystery novels in 5 series, plus many short stories and articles. All her names, blogs, and publications can be found at www.minichino.com. Her latest, “Murphy’s Slaw” is available here.

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Over the years, a coffee order went from a cuppa mud (1940) to a venti, decaf iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with soy milk or a grande, quad, nonfat, one-pump, no-whip, mocha (yesterday).

How did this come about? Sorry, that’s above my pay grade.

Oops, an inadvertent segue into a phrase that has its origin in the military, when each rank had a certain pay. Above each pay grade, solutions were someone else’s problem.

Here are other words and phrases that date to the forties or thereabouts.

• beef, as in “I have a beef with you.” Goes back to the Old West and arguments over grazing land for cows. 
• hold a candle to, as in “His writing can’t hold a candle to Ann Parker’s.” Stems from a time when an apprentice was expected to hold the candle so a more experienced worker would be able to see what she was doing.
• gobbledygook: Origin: The New York Times, May 21, 1944. How’s that for on the nose*? A Texas lawyer/congressman coined the word to indicate the obscure language being used by his colleagues, imitating the gobble of a turkey.
• on the nose: From the early days of radio broadcasting. The theory is that it came from the engineer in the control room who would place a finger on his nose as a signal that the program was running on schedule.
• through the wringer: Give someone a hard time, from the old washing machine part. Would my eleven-year-old grandniece know what this is?

Since I don’t want to stiff you (from 1939 restaurant workers, because dead people pay no tips!), I’m including a long list of 1940s slang, lingo, and phrases.

How about phrases that originated in the 21st century? Many abbreviations!

FAQ: 1982 (earliest year of use, not total Scrabble points)

Who has time for a 3-word phrase, or a 4-syllable word? So we have:

• convo for conversation (an application (applo?) of the older demo and info).
• retweet: Not just for Twitter anymore. It stands for I agree with you.
• boomer: Originally those born between 1946 and 1964, but now used for “old,” like geezer (not cool, in dis-guise (geez)).

What? You haven’t had enough? NP. Here are 110 texting acronyms. Imagine—we now have 109 more acronyms than in the days when ASAP ruled the roost (self-explanatory).

TY to Ann for sharing her blog space. TTYL.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Limey (by guest author Camille Minichino)

Please welcome today's guest, author and good buddy Camille Minichino, she of many authorial pen names, including her latest, Elizabeth Logan. Her (that is, Elizabeth's) newest book is MURPHY'S SLAW in her Alaskan Diner Series. For more about Camille and her work, check out her website at http://www.minichino.com/

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Uh-oh, another rather unpleasant medical story, after last week’s collywobbles! 

 Here’s a reminder of our susceptibility to disease throughout history: the story of scurvy, and eventually, the origin of the term limey to describe an Englishman.

 Early explorers called scurvy the "scourge of the sea." The disease was widespread during the Victorian era, causing ulcers, gum disorders, and blackened skin from internal hemorrhaging. According to historian Stephen Bown, scurvy was responsible for more deaths at sea than storms, shipwrecks, combat, and all other diseases combined.

The precise cause had been a mystery until Royal Navy surgeon James Lind stepped in.

In May of 1747, the Scottish doctor began groundbreaking clinical testing and showed that diet, specifically vitamin deficiency, was involved. He saw to adding lemon or lime juice to the sailors’ diet. Lind is credited with the successful treatment and cure.

 By the 1800s, the term limey was used for British sailors, then English immigrants. It eventually made its way to the U. S., where its use was extended to describe any Englishman.

As an example of its non-derogatory use, an 1824 Chicago Tribune article used the term to describe Professor William A Craigie, an editor of the OED.

Still, it might be wise to refrain from using the term unless you’re sure whom you are addressing.

"ACK! Scurvy! We need citrus and we need it now!"
Nocturne by James Abbott McNeill Whistler - Artdaily.org, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11704020

Dr. James Lind: "Orange you glad to see me??"
By Sir George Chalmers, c 1720-1791 - [1], Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32922810 

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Argy-bargy (by DMcC)

 Hello all! I've enlisted some occasional help with Slang-o-rama from the euphonious DMcC (aka Devyn McConachie)—so look for entries such as this one to pop up from time to time! Now, a bit about our assistant slang-o-rama-ist:

Devyn McConachie is a designer-editor-cartoonist, currently lurking about Portland, Oregon. Were it not for her wobbly landlubber legs and love of indoor-living, she would absolutely have taken up a career as a sea-pirate. Landlocked as she is, she instead fills her days with graphic design, animation, illustration, and copy editing.

For more info and to view her visual portfolio, visit this here link. She also has an Etsy shop (arts, hats, and cards) right here. 

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Returning to an earlier theme, here’s another nearly-nautical-sounding phrase… argy-bargy! Alas, Ann had no luck with the boat-connection with “dory” in hunky-dory, but perhaps “bargy” will prove fruitful in this hunt for a boating idiom. Let’s find out… 

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According Merriam-Webster Online, an argy-bargy is a “lively discussion,” or “an argument or disagreement.” Like shilly-shally from last year, argy-bargy features rhyming reduplication—a linguistic tweak where a word or word stem is repeated for expressive effect. The stem, argy, is a Scots-English term for “argue,” with first known usage as early 1839.

The Chess Game by 19th-century painter Charles Bargue (no relation to argue-bargue, but these fellows do look ready to start an argie-bargiement)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bargue_The_Chess_Game.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9370799

The Scottish National Dictionary, contained in the Dictionaries of the Scots Language (Dictionars o the Scots Leid, or DSL for short), offers a similar definition—according to the DSL, argy-bargy (or argie-bargie) means:

1. (Noun) A dispute in words, a quarrel, haggling, its use generally implying impatience with the speaker. (for example: “The other [hand] gesticulating in front of Tom Reid in an argy-bargy over the amount of his charge.”)
2. (Verb) To dispute, to haggle. (for example: “Sittin' on the corner o' the table, he argy-bargied away, but a' to no purpose.”)

 The DSL defines the root word argy (or argie) as:

1. (Verb) To argue, [generally] in a contentious or noisy fashion.
2. (Noun) Assertion. 

… with the noun form appearing in text as early as 1808.

 Along with argie/argy, and argy-bargy / -bargie come a whole extended Scottish family of varying spellings and sayings, brimming with rhyming reduplications. To name a few...

• Argey-reerie: (noun) a wrangle, a scolding 
• Arg: (verb) to talk ill-temperedly and hot-headedly 
• Argie-bargiement: (noun) a wrangling, contention 
• Argifee (or argufee, argufy, arguify): (verb) to argue, to signify
• Argolling: (noun) argument, reasoning
• Argle-bargle (or argol-bargol): (noun) Contention, dispute. (verb) to dispute
• Argle-bargling: (verbal noun) disputation
• Argle-bargler: (noun) contentious person, disputer, debater
• Argle-barglous (or argol-barglous, argol-bargolous): (adjective) quarrelsome, disputatious

 The DSL notes in the entry for argle-barglous that the words argue and bargain may have been the basis for these repetitive reduplicates. To plumb the depths as far as we can...

The Online Etymology Dictionary traces the verb argue back to the 1300s, from the French arguer (“maintain an opinion or view; harry, reproach, accuse, blame”), which itself came from the Latin arguere (“make clear, make known, prove, declare, demonstrate”)... An old term indeed, no argolin’ with that!

Uh-oh, looks like someone starting an argie-baaaaahrgie
Image by suju from Pixabay

As for bargain, the same etymology dictionary cites its origin to the 1400s, based on the Old French term bargaignier (“to haggle over the price”), which itself was based on a Germanic term, likely the Proto-Germanic borgan (“to pledge, lend, borrow”). However, 19th-century German philologist Friedrich Diez suggested that the French bargaignier could, in fact, have come from the Late Latin barca—a barge!—although there aren’t many sources to back this theory.

Hmmm, a tenuous conclusion, if there is one. Personally, I’m wiffle-waffling on whether this counts as a sea term… But at this point, I’ve got to either fish or cut bait—so I’ll leave it to you to decide!

What do you think? Argy-bargy, a boat-based byword, or no?

Wednesday's Random (NOT) Slang-o-rama: Paraprosdokias

Because I'm facing down a deadline and kind of forgot (!!) that this is Wednesday, I am featuring something a little fun and different forwarded to me by author buddy and dear friend, Camille Minichino.

I have never heard of paraprosdokias. Have you? Prepare to be educated!

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The following are paraprosdokias—a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence is unexpected and oft times humorous: 

• If I had a dollar for every girl that found me unattractive, they'd eventually find me very attractive. 
• Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool, so I gave him a glass of water.
•  Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.
• I'm great at multitasking, I can waste time, be unproductive, and procrastinate all at once.
• If you can smile when things go wrong, you have someone in mind to blame. 
• Take my advice — I'm not using it.
• Hospitality is the art of making guests feel like they're at home when you wish they were.
• Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes.
• Ever stop to think and forget to start again?
• He who laughs last thinks slowest.
• Is it wrong that only one company makes the game Monopoly?
• I was going to give him a nasty look, but he already had one. 
• Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine. 
• I was going to wear my camouflage shirt today, but I couldn't find it. 
• If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you. 
• If tomatoes are technically a fruit, is ketchup a smoothie?
• Money is the root of all wealth.

Paraprosdokias to tickle your funny bone.
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

"Kitten Britches" and other Southern slang by Guest Author Jane Tesh

Please welcome guest author Jane Tesh! A retired media specialist, Jane lives in Mt. Airy, North Carolina, Andy Griffith’s hometown, the real Mayberry.  She is the author of the Madeline MaclinMystery series featuring former beauty queen, Madeline “Mac” Maclin and her con man husband, Jerry Fairweather, as well as the Grace Street series, featuring struggling PI David Randall, his friend Camden, a reluctant psychic, and an ever-changing assortment of tenants who move in and out of Cam’s boarding house on Grace Street. (You can buy the 6th Grace Street book, Death by Dragonfly, here.) Her mysteries, published by Poisoned Pen Press, are set in fictional North Carolina towns and are on the light side with a little humor and romance. She is also the author of four fantasy novels, Butterfly Waltz, A Small Holiday, The Monsters of Spiders’ Rest, and Over the Edge, published by Silver Leaf Books.  When she isn’t writing, Jane enjoys playing the piano and conducting the orchestra for productions at the Andy Griffith Playhouse.

For more about Jane and her books, visit Jane’s website and her Facebook page. She also blogs and occasionally tweets.

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What in the world are "kitten britches?"
Image by Edwin Valencia from Pixabay

I’ve lived in North Carolina all my life, and I grew up with lots of Southern sayings. I didn’t think much about them until my friends from other parts of the country would say, “Um, Jane, what do you mean ‘tight as a tick’?” or “Why do you say you ‘might could’? You might and you could, but ‘might could’?” and “What in the world are ‘kitten britches’?”

As a writer, I love words, and I realized my Southern heritage had bequeathed a goldmine to me.

When I started writing my Grace Street Mystery Series, I knew I wanted one of the characters to be what we in the South call a Good Old Boy. A Good Old Boy is a big old friendly fellow you can always count on if your tractor breaks down or you need help moving heavy furniture or getting the crop in. You can find them hanging around gas stations and repair shops, chewing tobacco and having a beer or two, chatting about hunting and fishing. This type of man often looks deceptively slow but has a razor sharp wit and a fondness for Southern slang. My Good Old Boy is Rufus Jackson and he’s one of the tenants in Camden’s boarding house at 302 Grace Street in the fictional city of Parkland, NC.

Happy goat!
Image by christels from Pixabay

Having a boarding house allows me to move characters in and out as the series progresses. My PI, David Randall, is also a tenant and has his office in the downstairs parlor. Cam is psychic and helps Randall solve his cases. Sometimes Rufus helps out, too, but he’s mainly there to provide the color commentary. Here are a few of my favorite sayings, so they are Rufus’s favorites, too.

My mother had two favorites that I borrowed. One is “He’s as happy as a goat eatin’ briars.” (My brother raises goats, and they are happy eating anything.) The other is “It’s a poor dog that don’t bury a bone.” I think she wanted her children to prepare for the future!

I’m sure most of you have heard “The porch light’s on but nobody’s home” to describe someone who might not be very smart. “Not enough buckwheat in his pancakes” or “A pickle short of a jar.” There are so many sayings like this I couldn’t list them all.

• “He’s so dumb, he couldn’t find his ass with both hands in his back pockets.”
• “Her cornbread ain’t cooked in the middle.”
• “He’s got a hole in his screen door.”
• “She’s parked too far from the curb.”
• “His belt don’t go through all the loops.”
• “Got a hole in her screen door.”
• “The cheese done slid off her cracker.”
• “If brains were dynamite, he wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose.”
• “He’s three gallons of crazy in a two gallon bucket.”

Then there are the “so” sayings for folks with special talents or attributes.

• “She’s so tall, if she fell down she’d be halfway home.”
• “He’s so stingy he wouldn’t give you air out of a jug.”
• “She’s so cross-eyed, when she cries the tears roll down her back.”
• “He’s so narrow-minded, he can look through a keyhole with both eyes at the same time.”
• “She’s so late, she’d hold up a two-car funeral.”
• “I’m so hungry I could eat a raw dog backwards” or “I’m so hungry I could eat the stuffin’ out of a rag doll.” (Neither option sounds appealing.)
• “I’m so poor I can’t afford to pay attention.”
• “There’s so much food here it’s more than I can say grace over.”
• “I’m gonna slap you so hard when you quit rollin’ your clothes’ll be outta style.”

And my all time favorite saying which describes someone who looks unwell is “She looked like Death eatin’ a cracker.” Why a cracker, I don’t know. I’ve also heard “She looked like Death suckin’ a sponge.” But I prefer eating a cracker. I can just imagine the Grim Reaper chomping on a Saltine.

As for “Kitten britches,” this is one my Mother always used. After a storm, if you see enough blue sky to make a pair of kitten britches, then the storm is over.

If you have a favorite saying, I’d love to hear it. Perhaps Rufus will use it in a future Grace Street adventure. And be careful if you’re having too much fun because “Sometimes whee is a rat in your pocket.” 

Plotting or Pantsing? Or both? by Guest Author Michael Stanley (aka Michael Sears and Stan Trollip)

Michael Sears

Stanley Trollip

Please welcome authors Michael Sears and Stanley Trollip, who write under the name Michael Stanley. Their award-winning mystery series, featuring Detective Kubu, is set in Botswana, a fascinating country with magnificent conservation areas and varied peoples. The latest book in the series is a prequel, titled Facets of Death. It starts the first day Kubu joins the Botswana CID, and he’s immediately thrown into solving a violent heist of rough diamonds from Jwaneng—the world’s richest diamond mine. Their latest thriller Shoot the Bastards introduces Minnesotan environmental journalist Crystal Nguyen. Set mainly in South Africa, it has as backstory the vicious trade in rhino horn.

Michael has lived in South Africa, Kenya, Australia, and the US. He now lives in Knysna on the Cape south coast of South Africa. Stanley splits his time between Minneapolis and Cape Town. For more information, check out their website or their Amazon author page. You can also find them on Facebook, Twitter, and at the blog Murder Is Everywhere.
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When we started our first book, A Carrion Death, we didn’t have much idea about how to write a mystery. We’d written lots of non-fiction, but we’d never tried our hands at fiction. What we had was a premise. The premise had come to us in Botswana’s Chobe National Park after watching hyenas devour a young wildebeest. They ate everything except the horns and hooves. We speculated on what they would do to a human corpse. Nothing would be left. Nothing at all. What a wonderful way of getting rid of a body, we thought! Especially if you had a particular reason that the body should not under any circumstances be recognized.

Michael wrote the first chapter and sent it to Stanley. He was as intrigued and puzzled about the half eaten corpse found in the desert as were the ranger and scientist who found it. What happens next? he asked. Michael didn’t have the faintest idea...

What happens next??

When Detective Kubu went out to the area to investigate, we still didn’t know. We had lots of ideas, but we were coming to grips with all the issues around writing fiction. We’d been told to write about what we knew, so our plan was to have the scientist as hero. But Kubu ignored us and took over, shouldered the academic out of the limelight, and started investigating. He made one discovery after another, leaving a trail of dead plots in his wake.

We can’t imagine a more seat-of-the-pants (pantsing) approach than this. Kubu pulled us up by his bootstraps. Or is that our bootstraps? It was great fun! Maybe there was a freshness and excitement that came from the plot twisting and turning around us as it coalesced. It was also scary, but we weren’t working to a deadline. In the end, after three years, we were left with a plot that we were comfortable with, but also with a strong feeling that this was a very inefficient way to write a book.

When we started the second book, we were convinced that all this chaos was a spinoff of the fact that we knew nothing about writing fiction. It was only much later that we discovered that many

Mind maps!

mystery writers do it that way—pantsing to enjoy the discovery of what’s going on as much as the reader. By the second book, we thought we were experts. We knew better. We spent a lot of time plotting and arguing, rejecting ideas, following twists, taking turns. We had mind maps that couldn’t fit on the dining room table. And eventually we had a plot that we felt held up and that would lead to none of the dead ends that had cost us tens of thousands of discarded words in the first book. We sent our publisher an outline of The Second Death of Goodluck Tinubu and while a few extra embellishments occurred during writing as the characters developed and insisted on doing things their way, the final manuscript followed it pretty closely. We felt that now we understood how to write mystery novels. This, we decided, must be how all the professionals do it!

Our third book was a compromise between the two approaches. The first book was chaos, enjoyable chaos, and ultimately successful chaos—a true example of writing by the seat of your pants. Our second was planned and manicured. Successful too, we believe. An example of plotting and careful execution. Our third was somewhere in between. Our careful plot didn’t work, and we had to pants it out in the end.

Since then, we’ve become committed pantsers.

One result of this rather unstructured writing style, and the fact that Kubu took over as our protagonist without asking us, is that Kubu was quite unplanned. As we went along, we learned more about him, his school, his parents and his wife, but we had no idea how he’d developed into the Criminal Investigation Department’s star detective. Did he make mistakes? How did he learn? We felt that we needed to know the answers, so we decided to write a prequel that starts on the day Kubu joins the police as a new detective in 1998 (Facets of Death).

We also had the idea of a huge diamond heist from the Jwaneng mine in Botswana—the world’s richest diamond mine. If that had happened at the height of the diamond boom, could it have led to a collapse in the Botswana economy? That was a premise we could explore in a pantsing style. We started with the heist and let it play out, feeling the familiar panic when we neared the end of the book and realized that we had no way of catching the kingpin behind the crime.

The book had a plotting aspect as well, forced on us by it being a prequel. We wanted to explore Kubu as a young detective, but we knew where he would end up. He had to become a successful detective. He had to find his wife. His boss had to become director of the Criminal Investigation Department. In short, he had to develop into the present-day character our readers know and enjoy.

What we’ve learned over eight books is that there is no right or wrong way to develop a story. The majority of mystery writers seem to be pantsers, but there are plenty of big names who are plotters. For example, Jeffrey Deaver writes an extensive outline of each book, and then fleshes it out over a few months to get the complete novel.

Writing is a very personal process. Probably each writer (or writing team) has to find the style that works best for them. And it may change from book to book… 

The Voice of the People by Guest Author Camille Minichino

Please welcome my guest this week: author and long-time friend, Camille Minichino.

Camille received her Ph.D. in physics from Fordham University, New York City. She is currently on the faculty of Golden Gate University, San Francisco and teaches writing throughout the Bay Area. Camille is Past President and a member of NorCal Mystery Writers of America, NorCal Sisters in Crime, and the California Writers Club. Camille has published over 20 novels and many short stories and nonfiction articles. For more about her and her works, please visit her website: http://www.minichino.com/index.html

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Franklin Delano Roosevelt lived down the street from us in Revere, Massachusetts. He was the best friend our family had. Or so I thought growing up in the early 1940s.

"Roosevelt gave me this job," my father would say, tapping a small brown envelope of cash, his week's wages.

"If it weren't for Roosevelt and the WPA, you wouldn't be getting new shoes for school," my mother would remind me.

I pictured a benevolent Mr. Roosevelt driving the old truck that picked up my father and his cronies, day laborers, from the corner of our street, taking them to the construction site of the day. I imagined the WPA, whoever they were, helping my mother shop for my school clothes.

My parents, as well as our neighbors and friends, were acutely aware of House Speaker Tip O'Neill's All politics is local. My father's (metal) social security card was a prized possession.

It seemed to me that every year was an election year, every election important to us. My mother especially was always campaigning, urging people to sign this or that petition, to vote, vote, vote. Our front window was never without a sign, RUSSO FOR MAYOR, AVALLONE FOR COUNCIL, SIEGEL FOR SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT.

And it all came together on the Fourth of July. Independence Day and Voting Day were the biggest holidays in our lives, competing with Thanksgiving and Christmas, but better because there was no back-breaking food prep or lugging a tree up the stairs. My father died on July 4, 1981—I've always felt that he timed it that way, going up with the glorious fireworks on Revere Beach.

Following politics, debating issues, voting, are still a priority for me. Being invited to contribute a story to LOW DOWN DIRTY VOTE has been a highlight of my year. Thanks to Mysti Berry and the grand array of colleagues in this anthology! And thanks, Ann Parker, for giving the Independence Day slot to me!

I'm thinking of making a poster of the LOW DOWN DIRTY VOTE cover, and propping it on my lawn.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: All hat and no cattle, by Guest Author Camille Minichino

Please join me in welcoming guest blogger and fellow author Camille Minichino, who is going to treat us to a slang phrase she just recently discovered! 

Camille, a retired physicist turned writer, is the author of 25 mystery novels in four series. Camille is on the faculty of Golden Gate University in San Francisco, California, and teaches writing in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Website: www.minichino.com.
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I'm not the first person who comes to mind when delving into conversation about the Old West. Or even the New West, for that matter. But I do have a stepdaughter who is a prize-winning horsewoman and here's what she said about a newcomer to the ranch.

CC: He's all hat and no cattle.

Me: Huh?

 CC: You know, he talks big, but no action.

So there it is. The West creeping into my personal lexicon. Here's a bit (so to speak) of its history:

Originally used in reference to people imitating the fashion or style of cowboys. These people wore the hats, but had no experience on the ranch -- thus, all hat, no cattle. Similar to talking the talk without walking the walk, also used in reference to wannabe gunslingers. 

 It's going to be hard not to use this newly learned phrase.

Camille, "home on the range" and photobombed by two four-footed strangers, all thanks to her awesome Tech/Photoshop expert!

In Search of Healing by Guest Author Kat Seaholm

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Please welcome fellow guest author Kat Seaholm to today's special post.

Kat lives on a small acreage in Colorado along with her family and way too many cats. The cats also happen to be her hardest critics and push her to improve her writing along with adding more mice and cats to her story. Besides writing, Kat’s other hobbies include traveling, karate, and several needle arts.

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Hi everyone, Kat here. Ann has generously allowed me to share about my newest book: In Search of Healing, book two of the Seeker Files. In book one, In Search of Justice, Agent Aletta Sheridan and Agent Lirim Bosk are partnered together in Human-Supernatural Investigation (HSI). Book two is about Aletta’s story.

When I first started writing The Seeker Files, it began as a personal dare. I was afraid of sharing my writing with the world, despite having been told that I write well. I challenged myself to write a mystery in October and publish it in time for Halloween. So, imagine my surprise when I sat down and a six-book series sprang to life in my imagination. I managed to write In Search of Justice in a little under a month and published it. I’d never been so exhausted in my life, but I was elated at the same time.

In the first book, Aletta and Lirim form their partnership and learn how to work together. This second book takes a deeper look into Aletta. When I first met Aletta in In Search of Justice, she was sulking at her desk. She’d been sitting at that desk for three weeks, refusing to accept a partner. I immediately knew that this was a fiery woman who was fiercely devoted to her job. In In Search of Healing, I was privileged to be invited into Aletta’s life.

A case has drawn Aletta face to face with her former life, that of the opera. After an accident three years ago, Aletta walked away from the opera world and never looked back. She is happy with her career at HSI and settling into her partnership with Lirim. However, her whole world is flipped upside down when Captain Jones calls her into his office. Someone is targeting the Canticum Company and because of her familiarity with the opera, she and Lirim have been chosen to go undercover. Added into this is her struggle to master her newfound gift. Between trying to figure out who’s behind the attacks and master her gift, will Aletta and Lirim be able to piece everything together or will they run out of time?

I invite you to journey with Aletta as she faces her past and her future, the opera and her gift, in this second book of The Seeker Files: In Search of Healing

Want to see how the Aletta and Lirim’s partnership started?
Check out book one of The Seeker Files: In Search of Justice
 
Or come and visit me at my blog: https://katseaholm.wordpress.com/

Police Slang By Guest Author Michael A. Black

Please welcome fellow author Michael A. Black. Black is the author of 30 books, the majority of which are in the mystery and thriller genres, although he has written in sci-fi, western, horror, and sports genres as well. A retired police officer with over 30 years’ experience, he has done everything from patrol to investigating homicides to conducting numerous SWAT operations. Black was awarded the Cook County Medal of Merit in 2010. He is also the author of over 100 short stories and articles, and has written two novels with television star, Richard Belzer (Law & Order SVU). Black is currently writing the Executioner series (Fatal Prescription, Missile Intercept) under the name Don Pendleton. His latest novel under his own name is Blood Trails.
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Cops speak their own language and many times it’s a bit rough. You’ve heard of swearing like a sailor? Well, cops are no strangers to bad language, either. I remember when I first started in law enforcement I attended training programs in which they basically stated that sometimes an officer needed to get down and dirty with his or her language in order to communicate with suspects who wouldn’t understand anything else. Now keep in mind this was way before the advent of body cams and cell phone videotaping capabilities. With these technological developments it became obvious that using such language made the officers look unprofessional. While it could be argued by civil libertarians that this is a First Amendment issue, and officers should be able to say anything they wish, the fact remains that an officer should be held to a higher standard of conduct, especially when dealing with the general public.

But what about when officers are communicating between themselves? Special slang is often used in these cases. For writers who want to imbue a sense of realism into their works, including a dash of slang is like adding a bit of salt to a pot of soup. Too much can spoil the broth, but too little will leave it tasting flat. So let’s take a look at some common police jargon.

The first thing to keep in mind is that police jargon varies from region to region throughout our great country. In New York, for instance, it would be common to hear the bad guys referred to as “Perps.” The term “perp walk” is commonly used when referring to a line of arrested subjects being led in view of the news cameras. Going west from there, things change a bit. “Perps” become “Offenders” or “Suspects” as you enter the Midwest. Moving to the West Coast, an LAPD officer would refer to a “Subject” rather than a “Perp.” Usually the smaller departments follow the jargon of the larger ones in the vicinity. The use of radio Ten Codes varies from region to region as well. And officers might also refer to a criminal statute number to designate particular crime. In California, the statute number for homicide is 187, which is also used to designate a murder by officers. “We’ve got a 187, sarge,” an officer might say as his supervisor pulls up to a dead body. A 187 tattoo on the arm of a gangbanger might also advertise that he’s a real bad dude who’s been arrested for murder. Other statute numbers might also apply. In Illinois the charge for a Driving While Intoxicated is 728 ILCS 11-501. An officer might shorten this to advise his partner that he’s got a “Five oh one,” or an intoxicated motorist. Or he could use the ten-code and say, “We’ve got a 10-55.”

 Why would an officer use such terminology? For one thing, it has to do with communication and speaking in a manner that the general public doesn’t immediately recognize. Thus, police develop their own language to effect a semi-private communication.

Remember I mentioned the ten codes? Many times these are used to facilitate officer-to-officer communication as well.

Let me give you a quick example.

I was working a plain clothes unit and we received a call of some suspicious people in a shopping mall. The trio, two males and one female, had been observed going from store to store using a credit card to purchase large quantities of fine jewelry. The sales were all going through, but their conduct and the large purchases, which were being quickly done, raised some red flags with the store security personnel. We were dressed in regular clothes so it wasn’t apparent that we were the police. Our radios were clipped on our belts, under our shirts, and we had ear mics so we could silently monitor transmissions. We were in the center area of the mall, and it was very crowded.

A female store security guard, who was also dressed in civilian clothes, had followed the trio to a vehicle earlier where they’d stashed some of the jewelry they’d bought before returning to the mall for more shopping. The three of them had split up, but we had them all in sight. The security guard gave me the license plate of the vehicle and I covertly ran a check on it. I was ascending an escalator, watching my two partners on the upper level. Two of the suspects, a male and a female, were in front of a jewelry store on the upper level, and the third, another male, was briskly walking toward them. Their body language indicated to me that they might be getting ready to rabbit. (That’s another bit of police slang.)

The dispatcher’s voice sounded tense when she called me back: “Twenty-one-oh-eight, are you clear?” This was radio protocol telling me that the plate I had run was coming back with some sort of warning attached. I responded for her to go ahead with her transmission. She then informed me that the vehicle was wanted in connection with a homicide investigation and that the occupants were considered to be armed and dangerous.

I got to the top of the escalator and one of my partners met me there. Our other partner, who had probably picked up on the same rabbit vibes that I had, was walking about ten feet behind one of the male suspects and looked ready to stop him for questioning.

“Did you hear that?” I asked my partner by the escalator, wondering if he’d heard the armed and dangerous tag.

“Hear what?” he said.

I then saw that he hadn’t inserted his ear mic. My other partner wasn’t wearing his either and was closing in on the guy fast.

I had to communicate the danger in a quick and effective manner, letting my partners know of the possible danger, but not also alerting the suspects.

“Possible 10-32,” I yelled.

That’s the ten-code for “Man with a gun.”

My partner immediately grabbed the suspect’s arms and took him to the ground. With the large amount of civilian shoppers in the vicinity, we had to take measures to secure the suspects and prevent any possible danger to the general public. My other partner and I moved in and grabbed the other two. It was over in a matter of seconds, and no one was injured. The suspects were using the credit card of a murdered woman. One of them was her son, who had a severe drug problem. He subsequently admitted to having strangled her in a dispute over money, which he wanted to use to buy drugs.

So the bottom line is this: check the type of jargon used by the police in the area in which you set your story, and sprinkle in a bit here and there. Just make sure you get that regional speech right, and remember, in Chicago you’ll never hear a copper calling a suspect a “perp.”