Thank you

clear, cold, highs minus 14

GREAT news! The paperback sales of A FATAL GRACE are booming in the US! Just heard from the publishers - and they're thrilled. And if they're happy you can just imagine how I feel. Wow. It's so exciting to think of people hearing about the series then buying the books.

I mention this for a couple of reasons - it's a huge event in my publishing life and I wanted to share it with you. But equally important I know people hear about the series through you. I know how many of you have been spreading the word - in some cases accosting complete strangers - well done! And I'm SO grateful.

It's so difficult getting the word out. I've been extremely lucky, but even so it's hard work. And a shattering number of wonderful books bob to the surface then sink from sight. There are just so many books out there.

that's still, of course, a possibility with the Three Pines series. We haven't quite hit the 'tipping point' yet. But I think we're close. And I know it's because you're such great support.

Thank you! And I'm afraid I'll be calling on that support again in a few weeks when the third book, THE CRUELEST MONTH, comes out in the United States. But, you know I hope, that I don't expect you to do anything. And don't feel badly if you don't tell anyone about the books. That's not expected, not what this blog or this experience is about. It's not necessary. Some people are good at it, and some not. Frankly, I'm not so good at it. It's excrutiating for me to approach a stranger in a store and tell them about my book. I feel like I'm melting.

I still try to do it (though don't always find the courage) - but then they're my books. I really don't want any of you to feel you should do the same thing. But I also do know most of you have told family and friends and that is massive.

I'm going on too long about this, and feel I've been a little flat-footed - but I'm thrilled and wanted to share the delight!

Great news too - I've finished the party scene. Will spend today going back over it...already I see a few small holes or wrong words. Things that occur in the night, or while watching the primary returns, just before my mind goes numb.

Had to decline an invitation to tour Canada's Northwest Territories next winter. I;'ve never been there and I hear the Arctic is amazing. I'd have loved to go but amazingly I seem quite booked already and just couldn't find the time. Next winter I'll be researching and writing the next book, in Quebec City, then doing the next US tour, the Hawaii (yup) for Left Coast Crime, then UK for British stuff. This is all a year away. But what fun. Still, I asked if they'd mind inviting me again the next year and I'll make time. It's not book sales there, it's a literacy push.

I was in the bath yesterday afternoon (where else) and heard a squirrel trying to get in through the roof. They can be quite destructive. My options were to call out for Michael, get out of the bath, or phone Anthony or Lise (only because she's our external common sense).

I stayed in the bath. Once out I noticed that the TV antenna was missing. Not a tiny rabbit's ear contraption on the roof, but quite a large tower planted in the ground next to the house. Either our squirrels know Roger Clemens or that scratching sound wasn't them.

As you probably know, a good writer notices things - so it's both humbling and disconcerting to realize someone could walk off with our communications tower and me not even notice.

Of course there's also the humbling evidence of laziness. Oh, well. At least I'm clean and hydrated and that's all that matters.

Off to the office today. Hope you're well and I'll write tomorrow.

When good luck takes flight

sun struggling out, but snow squalls forecast, highs minus 5

Lovely morning after a mixed day yesterday. We were in Montreal - great check-ups, all's well - and debated whether to drive back down. The wonderful Lise, who manages our office and takes care of us (she's basically our brains and our common sense) wrote to say 'stay in Montreal' since freezing rain and sleet was forecast and Autoroute 10 is dreadful in the best of times.

So we drove back.

To be fair, we were going to follow Lise's advice, but the bad weather didn't materialize, until about 4:30 when we were on the highway. Drove the last hour through sleet. But everyone kept their heads and it wasn't bad at all.

The temperatures have been fluxuation wildly - from bitterly cold to extrrmely mild. You'd expect we'd be thrilled with mild, but we're not. Partly because a Canadian winter, with snow and chill, is actually unbelievably beautiful. So quiet, everything muffled. I've never seen clarity like a brilliant sunny, crisp day after a snowstorm. Stunning. So we quite like the cold.

the other reason we love the cold is the bugs. As soon as the temperature struggles above freezing we're innundated with ladybugs. It sounds romantic. The symbol of good luck. And one or two, even ten might be. But there are swarms in our home. The guest cottage is even worse. We expect to see family and friends borne out the door on a carpet of flying ladybugs. It's especially difficult at night when the bedside lamps are one. and every bug in the house aims for it. You haven't lived until you've snorted a dozen ladybugs, for luck.

So we're happy with the cold. Especially when guests are visiting. Hard to explain how the idyllic guest cottage can suddenly become a Hitchcock set.

Still writing the party scene. Maybe this book will just be one long party scene at Peter and Clara's. Like the Mousetrap. A one set novel/play. Catered.

Must run. Was going to have a day at home just to write but at 8am got a call from Kirk wondering about material for our newheadboard, which we picked up on our way home yesterday. He needs it. So the car is warming up, Michael is exercising, dogs fed and I'm heading out to deliver 3 yards of Waverly material.

If this is the extent of my problems, keep 'em coming.

My treat today is to sit in a bubble bath (after writing) and read the new edition of Country Life. I give myself monopoly money budgets. Two million pounds is pretty much minimum.

Be well, we warm, watch out for a swarm of flying good luck.

What a complex party scene.

Sunny, clouds rolling in, very mild, highs plus 3

Great news - we're in Montreal and Michael found the missing 3,000 words while I paced in the living room and tried to 'let it go' - odd, but it worked. I was quite calm, considering. But it all turned out well. Phew.

Up to 25,000 words in the new book. At a challenging stage though. Without being too specific it's a dinner party at Peter and Clara's. A great deal needs to be said and done. Clues, false clues, mis-direction, characters introduced, characters developed, plot moved along. Mood and scene set. And all without taking 10,000 words to do it. Every word needs to count. So I keep telling myself, just write the first draft of this scene, then spend the rest of the week layering it. But just keep moving ahead, not worrying whether what I have already is perfect. But of course I keep going back over it and smoothing as I go. Nearing an end, I think, of the first draft of this scene. But will keep going back to it this week, layering, adding and shaping, like a sculptor. In fact, as I write the rest of the book I'll probably bounce back to this party scene, and shape some more as ideas occur to me. Most books have at least one sometimes a few extremely complex scenes. And the key, of course, is that they shouldn't read as complex. None of this should be declarative. But light and subtle, entertaining, moving even - but not heavy and dense.

It's a little, I think, like writing a short story within the book itself, or even a poem. It needs to be crafted, and every word needs to defend its place.

Have to say, except for the times I think it's all crap, I love scenes like these. Very difficult. Challenging. Scary. Really pushing me to try to be a better writer. And sometimes, I write things that are actually better than I am. And I'm amazed. Sometimes I write crap. Oh, well. I hope most of that I find and take out.

Very fun. Though slightly stressful.

Had a really fun weekend, when not writing, with our friends Barb and Ian, from Toronto. When they arrived Friday afternoon they were aquaintances, but now they're friends. Had dinner with them and Lucy, from Brome Lake Books, at our home Friday night. Very relaxed. En famille, as we say in Quebec...family-style. Barb, as I think I mentioned in an earlier blog, is the noted children's author Barb Reid. She's been shortlisted 4 times for then Governor General's Award for Children's illustrations. Her website is http://www.barbarareid.ca/

Yesterday Ian and Barb took us for a late dinner (we had something else to do earlier in the evening) at a restauranmt about 3 minutes from us, in a farmhouse in the countryside. It's called Il Duetto. Marvelous.

Then today, after writing, Ian and Barb came by the office and Ian spent an hour photographing me, and some with Michael too. He's a professional photographer. His website is: http://www.iancrysler.com/ I can look pretty goofy in pictures. I have very little sense of my physical self - except for an almost total awareness of migrating cellulite. I'll put some of his shots up on the website, after a severe photo-shop session.

Actually, I say that but I'd never do it. I think authors who stay with a very old, or doctored, photo do themselves a disservice. When they show up at events everyone is stunned at how they really look. So, a little makeup - I'll shave the moustache - but besides that, I'm 'au natural'.

The Montreal Gazette had a very nice write-up of The Cruelest Month. A huge relief when the local newspaper says nice things. I was on the cover of this past Saturday's book section. There was a feature interview and then a review by Pat Donnally. Both very enthusiastic.

I realize I shouldn't care - but between us? I do. Plan to work on that in the next lifetime.

Hope you're well. For those of you in Ontario - happy Family Day tomorrow. And in the US - a very happy President's Day!