THE ART OF EVIL

Author's Note:  Although I have changed the names of certain people and places, the setting of The Art of Evil is an accurate depiction of The John and Mable Ringling Museum complex on Sarasota Bay in the last year before the bulldozers moved in for the great building boom that followed. All events in this book are fiction, but the beauty of the sixty-six acres and the buildings on it remain. If you're ever on the West Coast of Florida, don't miss it!

Special Note:  The Art of Evil was originally published under the pseudonym, Daryn Parke. It is being published as an e-book under my better-known writing name of Blair Bancroft.

The mystery:

Someone is killing people at the Bellman Museum, staging the deaths as bizarre works of art scattered over the museum's sixty-six tropical acres, the creation of famed circus entrepreneur and art connoisseur, Richard Bellman. FBI Special Agent Aurora "Rory" Travis is visiting her grandmother in Florida while recuperating from a three-story fall that killed her partner and lover. Although broken in spirit as well as body, Rory volunteers as a tram driver on the tranquil museum grounds, ignoring the outside world, until a friend becomes a murder suspect and she feels obligated to a bit of private sleuthing.

As the first ripples of a possible suicide, compounded by a series of odd pranks, stir the serenity of the Bellman complex, Josh Thomas, a man of mystery, hops onto Rory's tram to a clap of thunder. Josh is dangerous, Josh is ruthless. Josh has not come into her life by accident, of that Rory is certain.

As the pranks at the museum escalate to murder, Detective Ken Parrish is added to Rory's life. Steady, reliable, a good cop—everything a wounded warrior could want. Except when he is forced to add Rory to his suspect list. And only one of the two new men in her life is there, watching her back, when Rory is forced to confront her worst fears as she goes one-on-one with the villain.

Review:

"This is an engaging Florida investigative thriller starring a likable cast to include eccentric seniors especially Aunt Hy, polar opposite sleuths with an in-common interest in Rory, and terrific heroine struggling to regain her sea legs. . . ."
                                                                                         Harriet Klausner

~ * ~

Those who would like to know more about the Ringling Museum complex and all it offers, click here.


Thanks for stopping by.

Grace

For Grace's website, listing all books as Blair Bancroft, click here.

For a brochure for Grace's editing service, Best Foot Forward, click here.

MORE ON EDITING

The result of a storm in Tennessee. I call it "Retribution."  Posted to Facebook by Judy Gwinn.

Over the last couple of weeks I've run across a book that made me gnash my teeth and one that totally surprised me. I've also been horrified when I went to edit a certain chapter in one of my own books and discovered that Grace, who preaches the how-to's of Writing and Editing, totally messed up.

First, the teeth-gnashing. I try to avoid specifics when using other people's books as examples because I have no wish to hurt anyone's feelings, but I finally had to send a Medieval to the trash heap only partly read when the heroine kept saying things like, "Yike!" and "Cripes!" and I encountered phrases such as "the percs of the job."  The use of modern language was so egregious, in fact, that I decided it was deliberate. The author had decided to write the book her own way and to @#$% with the anyone who might consider her choice of language odd. The problem is, the author has talent, including an ability to write sensual scenes with consummate skill. So why would she shoot herself in the foot by using words not in use until more than a thousand years in the future of her selected time period? Particularly when she has the potential to develop into a best-selling author? No, we don't want so much authenticity our work becomes unintelligible (say written in Chaucer-spelling), but I do NOT recommend emulating this particular author's approach to historical writing.

On the bright side, I encountered a book I simply loved—City of Jasmine by Deanna Raybourn. It was intelligent, well-researched, with excellent characters, narration, dialogue, and action. What totally shocked me came at the end when I discovered it was a Harlequin imprint! Harlequin Mira, to be exact. Although Harlequin is a romance giant worldwide, they rarely publish books of the type I personally enjoy. I now stand corrected. And I'm happy to add that the book was flawless in its presentation. No writing or editing errors allowed.

As for my own mistake, stupidity, bad day—whatever you want to call it—when I went to edit Chapter 7 of my new Regency Gothic, Mists of Moorhead Manor, I could only wrinkle my nose and go, "Huh?"

I edit from hardcopy, using a pencil for minor corrections and revisions, and a legal pad and pen to write lengthier inserts. In the case of Chapter 7, I ended up revising almost the entire chapter (by hand), with one insert filling three legal pad pages. Below you will find a small portion of the original, with the revision of that section following. I believe you will find the improvement self-evident.

Original draft excerpt from Chapter 7, The Mists of Moorhead Manor - unfortunately, a sample of "telling, not showing" and just plain rushing through the scene without enough attention to active dialogue or to detail:

Dinner was a solemn affair, with little more than an occasional clink of silverware on porcelain plates to disturb the stillness. Huntley had stopped by on his way back to the cliffs to inform us that low tide had revealed Nell Ridgeway’s body crumpled on the rocks. The Ridgeways, father and son, and two of their farmworkers were on their way with a wagon, but the climb down the cliff by lantern light would be devilish, the ascent back up with the body rising to nightmare proportions.

And, oddly, in that instant I knew who would be leading the dangerous climb. As difficult as it was to picture that frivolous flirt, Exmere, doing anything even remotely heroic, he was the heir, his father’s representative. And down he would go, hopefully calling on well-remembered childhood exploits on those very cliffs to keep him safe.

Lady Vanessa had not joined us the previous night since she was without David Tremaine’s services to carry her downstairs. Nor had she joined us tonight, due to his late return from the search for Nell. Her problems, therefore, were far from my mind when a footman burst into the dining room to relay a message from Miss Scruggs. David Tremaine, it seems, had expressed his desire to join the recovery efforts on the cliffs and Lady Vanessa had gone into one of her hysterical fits. Tremaine had gone anyway, and Miss Scruggs was begging my immediate aid. Pushing back my chair so fast it nearly toppled over, I rushed upstairs.

Oh dear God, I could hear her screams and sobs from the first floor landing. They fair stood my hair on end. I had no idea . . . 

Was she quite sane? Or was this display to be expected from an overindulged invalid frustrated by the vision of endless days tied to her chair?

Revised version of the same section (which will undoubtedly be further revised in the future - only two sentences were salvaged from the original):

Although Mr. Carewe joined us for dinner, our meal was even more strained than the night before. We all felt it—the scythe of the grim reaper hanging over our heads. The turmoil in my stomach intensified as I heard the tramp of boots coming toward the dining room. I ceased pushing food around on my plate and stared as Huntley entered the room—damp, dishelved, and struggling to keep the expected stiff upper lip.

“They’ve found her,” he said. “The tide went out and there she was . . .” He shuddered, visibly gathered himself before continuing. “They’re bringing her up now—a stiff climb down and far worse coming back up. I went for Ridgeway and Tom . . . they’re bringing a wagon . . .” He gulped and added distractedly, “I must go back now to help.” With that he plunged back out the door and was gone.

A whimper of sound forced my stunned gaze to Lady Emmaline, noting a steady stream of tears running down her pale cheeks. I excused myself, coaxed her up from her chair, and escorted her to her bedchamber, where I left her in the competent care of her maid. Ignoring my duty to look in on Lady Vanessa, I settled onto the window-seat in my room and stared out toward the sea, which I could hear but barely see.

The climb down the cliff by lantern light would be devilish, the ascent back up with the body rising to nightmare proportions. And I knew who would be leading the dangerous trek. As difficult as it was to picture that frivolous flirt, Exmere, doing anything even remotely heroic, he was the heir, his father’s representative. And down he would go, hopefully calling on well-remembered childhood exploits on those very cliffs to keep him safe.

My mind formed such a vivid picture of the struggle back up the cliff with the battered body of Nell Ridgeway that for several minutes my prayers were shockingly selfish. Keep him safe, dear Lord, keep him safe. Then, thoroughly ashamed, I whispered aloud, “Forgive me, Lord,” and amended my prayers to include the other rescuers and, most importantly, Nell and her grieving family. My guilt was so great, my prayers so fervent, I didn’t hear the pounding on my door until it reached a thunderous pitch.

“Come quickly,” Maud Scruggs gasped. “My lady has worked herself up to one of her hysterical fits.” She grabbed me by the hand, tugging me across the corridor. The screams and sobs from Lady Vanessa’s bedchamber were so loud I could only wonder I had not heard them earlier. Once again, shame struck me like a blow. My thoughts had been with Rob—with the tragedy on the cliffs when my duty lay but a few feet away.

“She was furious when David left her again—dashing off the moment he heard the gentlemen were off to search the cliffs," Maud declared, bristling with righteous indignation. "Threw her fork at me when I tried to get her to eat and been working herself up ever since.”

By this time we’d passed through the sitting room into Vanessa’s bedchamber, where she sat before her dressing table, pounding her fists against the arms of her chair. Pieces of her looking glass lay shattered on the table and carpet, her carved and gilded hairbrush lying, a likely culprit, among the debris. Her screams continued, unabated, except for an occasional hiccup to catch her breath. How she could keep up the effort without collapsing from exhaustion was a mystery.

“Oh, my lady,” Maud cried, staring at the broken glass. “For shame!”

I heartily agreed. Hastily, I found a small towel to protect my hands and began picking up the shards before Vanessa could get any worse notions into her head. Miss Scruggs evidently had the same idea as she quickly moved Vanessa’s chair to the far side of the room. I could not help but wonder as I dropped potentially lethal bits of glass into a wicker basket, if Lady Vanessa was quite sane. Perhaps this display was to be expected from an overindulged invalid frustrated by the vision of endless days tied to her chair, but I was shaken, wondering if I would ever be able to do any good in such an unpromising situation.
 

~ * ~

Grace Note:  And, yes, the rest of the chapter required almost as much revision as the excerpt above. And I continued to revise it, even as I posted it here. The moral of this story: Anyone who clings to the original version of an idea, with no thought that it could be improved, is indulging in a particularly blind form of egotism. Pride gone amuck.  I will edit this section again at the end of Chapter 10, and again when I go through the entire book from beginning to end. With final tweaks even as I format it for upload. Words may be golden, but seldom are they the first ones out of our mouth or the first on screen.

Thanks for stopping by.

Grace

For Grace's website, listing all books as Blair Bancroft, click here.

For a brochure for Grace's editing service, Best Foot Forward, click here.





 

THE THREE BEARS - Florida Style

At the end of the fence on the left, down by the lake, is where the Mama Black Bear was sitting  later that day when we were ready to go home.

You have to look really closely - it was almost 10:00 p.m. when this photo was taken - but there are are two black bear cubs up in the tree eating fruit.

Background to our Easter Bear Tale:

The greater Orlando area, particularly to the north, has been experiencing a bear problem. At first, nothing new, just increased sightings, more garbage cans raided, etc. Then twice over the last few months women were attacked. Just last week, a bear took a woman's head in its mouth and was dragging her toward the woods before she managed to get away. Her skull required 30 staples and 10 stitches! Plus gashes on her face and arms, etc. Florida Fish and Wildlife put a 24-hour guard on her house and shot seven bears in less than 48 hours, alleging none of them showed any fear of humans. It is suspected that someone in the area was feeding them. So a bear in the yard is now considered far more hazardous than it was in the past. Also, the news media made sure we all knew bears could run up to 30 mph!

Bears in the land of Disney and long sandy beaches? Believe me, those are just the views the tourists see. The interior of Florida has vast tracts of woods and lakes, where humans have only intruded in the last decade or two. And there's no doubt we are the intruders, but "progress" seems inevitable. Sigh.

When we arrived in Altamonte Springs on Sunday, where a relative was hosting the annual family Easter dinner, she told us about the bears that had been coming to the condo complex for the past year or so, sometimes making her late for work when they spread out near both front and back doors. But, she told us, this was at 6:30 in the morning, so we were unlikely to see any. (Much to the disappointment of the grandgirls, ages 7, 9, and 11.)

We had an Easter egg hunt on the lawn that stretches in front of the first-floor condo all the way down to the lake. (See photo above.) Followed by a grand dinner for fourteen, combined with a birthday celebration for the son of the family. All in all, a delightful family event. But just as we began to pack up the Easter baskets and presents the girls received, a phone call came from the neighbor upstairs. Bears! Out front.

Naturally, we all rushed for the door, but were promptly ordered back inside by my son-in-law, who, with his cousin, ventured out to see what was going on. The neighbors, safe on their second floor balcony, pointed out two bear cubs in a large fruit tree. And then came word that there was a bear out back. Since the men were barring us from looking out front, we all charged to the back and, sure enough, there at the lakeside end of the fence (see top photo) was Mama Bear, just sitting on the ground. (When our male guardians deserted the front door for the back door, my daughter sneaked up the outside staircase and took the cubs' photo from the second floor balcony.)

But as for going home, we were trapped! Like our relative who had been late to work three times, we had baby bears in front and Mama Bear in back. And as everyone knows, there's no more dangerous animal than a Mama Bear protecting her cubs. Our car, in a parking lot at the top of a small hill, seemed very far away. By this time my son-in-law and his cousin had joined the crowd at the back door. Since Mama Bear was way down by the lake and not moving, I suggested my son-in-law bring the SUV to the back door, which would be much closer than all of us attempting the run for the parking lot. (This, of course, presumed that the baby bears would stick to their fruit, having sense enough not to be interested in a full-grown human male as a food source.)

My son-in-law made it to the SUV, retrieved his Glock 9, and returned to pick us up, standing guard while Mommy, the three little girls, and I, traveled the 10-12 feet from back porch to road at a fast pace! As we drove back along the side of the condo complex, we paused to watch the branches of the fruit tree sway as the cubs gorged themselves. There was no breeze, and the contrast with the completely still branches of the fruit tree next to it was apparent. So although only Mommy got to see the cubs, we all had an opportunity to see that they were truly there, only feet from that second-floor balcony. And the black hulk of Mama Bear calmly sitting at the bottom of the lawn will be with me for some time. It's definitely as close as I ever want to come to a bear.

~ * ~

Thanks for stopping by.

Grace

For Grace's website, listing all books as Blair Bancroft, click here.

For a brochure for Grace's editing service, Best Foot Forward, click here.   

USING CAPITAL LETTERS, Part 2

A Family Triumph - one First & two Seconds in the Girl Scout Derby

Rockin' Riley, Winner, Brownie Division

Hailey's Comet - Second, Junior Division

SeeSaw - Second, Brownie Division (Cassidy's car)

And a big "muchas gracias" to Daddy who oversaw design, cutting, sanding, painting, balancing, et al!

USING CAPITAL LETTERS, Part 2

 I was reminded by an author friend on Florida's Gulf Coast about the little matter of those vital words, north, south, east, and west. So let's tackle that first, quickly adding the caveat that different publishers have different style sheets, and this one can vary. But in general . . .

Directions.  Ask yourself: Am I describing movement, giving driving directions? If so, then it's lower case. But if you're writing about a particular part of the country, then you use an initial cap.

There's a gas station just east of here. You can't miss it.

The ladies in the movie Steel Magnolias are examples of the strength of women from the South.
Canada is the country north of the United States.
I was born in the Mid-West but have lived most of my life in the East.
Here in Florida we see a lot of Snowbirds from Up North.  

Titles of Works 

 Books, Magazines & Newspapers. These items have initial caps and are italicized.
Her Royal Spyness by Rhys Bowen, Arabella by Georgette Heyer
I used to subscribe to Vogue. My son prefers to read Time magazine. 
I read the Orlando Sentinel every day.  BUT

The Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling
She reads only fashion magazines. Ed prefers getting the news from television rather than reading it in the newspaper.

Musical Compositions.  The names of musical compositions require initial caps for all words but minor articles and prepostions. If a long composition has a specific name attached, it is also italicized. Short pieces, however, such as a single song, are set off by quotation marks, no italics. If, however, you are simply referring to a piece of music, such as a sonata or symphony by its number or key, only initial caps are used.  (A bit tricky, I admit.)

Madame Butterfly, Jesus Christ Superstar 
Beethoven's Sonata op. 8 is more commonly known as the  Pathétique. 
She belted out the high note in "O Holy Night." 
Sonata in D Minor   BUT

I attended the opera last night.  
The quartet played some sonata I never heard of. 
I could have done without the soprano's last song.

Note:  The Chicago Manual of Style uses lower case for both number and opus - no. & op. 

Plays, Movies, Television Programs. These titles also use initial caps and italics.
A Long Day's Journey Into Night, As You Like It, The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Avatar, The Princess Diaries,The Silence of the Lambs
NCIS, Scandal, Person of Interest

Note:  The characters in these dramas, however, must settle for initial caps only, both for their stage names and for the characters they are portraying.

Paintings & Sculpture. These too have initial caps, but only the name of the work is italicized.
Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa is the world's most famous painting, while Michelangelo's David is likely the most famous statue. A close second might  be Rodin's The Thinker.  
  
BUT

He gazed at the painting for a long time but couldn't figure out how anyone would pay a million dollars for it.
I couldn't believe how many sculptures there were in Lord Elgin's collection of "marbles" on display in the British Museum.

There are, of course, many other places where capital letters are used, but hopefully those in the two parts of "Using Capital Letters" cover most of information needed for authors of Fiction.

If you think of other uses of capital letters that are essential to fiction-writing, please use Comments (below) to let me know. (I keep promising myself I'm going to organize all these Writing & Editing blogs into a book someday.)

~ * ~

SPECIAL NOTE:  My naughty novellas, Cecilia (with Belle) will be available as a "twofer" on Kindle Countdown, beginning Thursday, April 24.

For link to Amazon, click here.


Thanks for stopping by.


Grace
 

For Grace's website, listing all books as Blair Bancroft, click here.

For a brochure for Grace's editing service, Best Foot Forward, click here.   







 

USING CAPITAL LETTERS

Sandhill Cranes - parents & "preteens" - photographed at The Villages, Central Florida

The Sometimes Peculiar Use of Capital Letters

I never thought I'd see the day when I would sit down and actually remind my readers that the pronoun "I" is capitalized or that each sentence starts with a capital letter. But e-mails, and most particularly texting, seem determined to reduce our language to a mere semblance of its former self. For the purpose of this blog—aimed, as always, at authors writing fiction—let's pass over the most well-known uses of capital letters as quickly as possible and get down to the ones so many find tricky. 

Use initial caps for:

1. Names. (People, Places, Businesses, and Organizations) John Doe, Omaha, Nebraska, New York City, East Oshkosh, Brazil, Africa, the Pacific, Lake Baikal, General Motors, the Girl Scouts of America, the Blue Angels, etc.

2.  Titles. President, Chairman, Duke, Duchess . . . BUT only when they are combined with a person's name. Otherwise, they are lower case.

Example:   the President of the United States, President Obama  BUT
                The president sat at his desk. 
                The duke rode his horse each morning.

Grace note: Just to complicate things, the publishers' "bible", The Chicago Manual of Style, disagrees with the general publisher usage of English titles.  It states: "the duke of Marlborough" is correct when most publishers go with "the Duke of Marlborough." I personally recommend capitalizing the title (duke, earl, viscount, etc.) when it is directly associated with the proper name of the title  (William, Duke of Cambridge).

3. Personification. In writing Fiction, we sometimes give people names derived from their appearance. In one of my recent novellas, for example, I referred to two ladies of the evening as Shocking Pink and Scarlet. Basically, any time you take an ordinary word and personify it, use initial caps.


4.  Initials & Acronyms.  I often refer to myself as GAK. We hire a DJ to play at a party. But if you need a Medical Examiner, for some reason periods are usually inserted (M.E.) - probably because it comes out as ME and looks more than a little egotistical.  You can, of course, earn a PhD, and many of us couldn't do without a CPA to help with our taxes or our businesses. And then there are all those government and military alphabet soups, the FBI, CIA, DOD, DHS. In Florida we have the FDLE (Florida Department of Law Enforcement). And OCLS (Orange County Library System). Acronyms have become a way of life. And Heaven help any poor e-mailer or texter who can't read them. 

5.  Emphasis. Authors of Non-fiction or Literary Fiction (note the initial caps) will likely cringe at this one, but it's a legitimate use of caps for most Fiction authors. In a manner similar to the use of Shocking Pink and Scarlet mentioned above, a character might be described as "Hot" or a "Hottie." (Italics, of course, can also be used for emphasis, but somehow the effect is not quite the same.) This kind of capitalization should be used sparingly, but it is permissible in most Fiction, particularly Romance.

Elaboration on the above:

1. Titles used in place of names in Direct Address.   
          Aye, aye, Captain, I'll do that right away.
          Of course, Your Grace.
          Would you repeat that, Sergeant?
          BUT for some reason modern publishing makes an exception for:
          Are you sure you know where you're going, miss?
          I'm so sorry, sir.

Grace note:  No matter what approach you take, you'll probably run into a publisher with a different style sheet!

2.  Religious Titles work the same way as noble and military titles. 
           Pope John Paul II
           The pope delivered an Easter blessing.

3.  Epithets & Honorifics.  
         the Iron Duke
         His Eminence, Cardinal Richelieu
         Your Honor, Judge Perry   BUT
         The cardinal disagreed, to the bishop's dismay.
         The judge, looking down from the high bench, frowned.

4.  Nationalities, Tribes.  In a manner similar to that cited in #2 above, Scotland is capitalized, but scotch whiskey is not. Kentucky is capitalized but bourbon is not (unless you're referring to a specific named bourbon or it's part of a name on a label!) 
Basically, if you're talking about a specific name, it's capitalized. If you're using the word generically, it is not.

5.  Historical Periods. the Middle Ages, the Georgian Era, the Jazz Age, etc.  

6.  Events. Festival of Trees, Reign of Terror, the Kentucky Derby, The Florida State Fair

7.  Holidays. Christmas, Easter, Hanukkah, Yom Kippur, Ramadan, etc.

8.  Deities.  God, Yahweh, Allah, Holy Ghost, the Trinity, Prince of Peace, etc. Also ancient gods, such as Apollo, Venus, Zeus, etc.

9.  Religious Services.  Holy Communion, the Lord's Supper, High Mass (with generic exceptions).  There will be a high mass at one o'clock.  The cathedral offers four masses daily, six on Sunday.

Other exceptions:  generic terms such as morning prayer, bar mitzvah, sun dance, vespers, etc.  Also ark, mandala, rosary, shofar, stations of the cross, etc.

10.  Military.  The names of military forces are capitalized; for example, Army Corps of Engineers, Joint Chiefs of Staff, Royal Air Force.  Again, the exceptions are generic: Wellington's army besieged Badajoz.  A navy task force sailed for the South Pacific.

Battles, Campaigns, and Theaters of War are also capitalized, as are the names of medals.
Examples:  the Civil War, Battle of the Bulge, World War I, Purple Heart, Silver Star, etc.

11.  Transportation. The names of ships, trains, aircraft & spacecraft are capitalized. (They are also italicized.) Victory, Arizona, Enterprise, Challenger, etc. The different models are merely capitalized:  Nike, Camry, Concorde, Silver Meteor, etc.

12.  Astronomical Terms are capitalized: the Big Dipper, Andromeda, the North Star, Southern Cross, etc.

13.  Radiation. Although I'm a great believer in using a capital X in X-ray, The Chicago Manual of Style says it can be written with a lower case x as well (x-ray). Other rays, however, are all lower case, whether, beta, gamma, cosmic, or ultraviolet.

~ * ~

The next section, Titles of Works, is such a biggie, I'm going to leave it for next week.  Don't forget to come back for Part 2 of "Using Capital Letters."

Grace note:  A huge thank you to The Chicago Manual of Style, 14th Edition, for providing the solid backup for this list. (I did my best, however, not to steal their examples!) 

Thanks for stopping by.

Grace
 

For Grace's website, listing all books as Blair Bancroft, click here.

For a brochure for Grace's editing service, Best Foot Forward, click here.