My Secret Writing Life

I am, as the title of this blog tells you, the creator of the Minerva James stories. Enough of them have been published that I can say this with some degree of pride. The next one to be published, by the way, is in May-June’s issue of Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, “Minerva James and the River God.”

(Another of my stories can be purchased in this previous issue. “Minerva James and the Judgment of the Furies.”

But I am not only a handsome and talented writer of mysteries. Indeed, I have a secret life.

At least, a secret writing life.

I also write what are known as “literary” short stories.

On April 24, you will be able to read one of these stories, “The Occasional Girl” at Jerry Jazz Musician. While you’re there, you should try to track down a prior story of mine, “Aphrodite.” It’s pretty funny. And not a murder in sight.

Most writers do not limit themselves to one genre, even if they’re successful. The great Agatha Christie, the Queen of Mysteries, wrote a series of romance novels under the pen name Mary Westmacott.

I could go on and on, but you get the point. If you’re a writer, performing in just one genre gets a bit tiresome after a while. You want to try new things.

Or, in my case, old things. Because I didn’t start out as a mystery writer. That just sort of happened because I loved reading mysteries. No, I once fancied myself a writer of literature, a man who chronicled the exploits and flaws of the human race. Mostly the flaws. Exploits get dull after a while.

Sadly, my initial working in the fields of literature were useless. I was too mired in cliche. I sort of wrote the same things I saw in the movies and on TV.

Not so much anymore, as you can see if you read my little stories.

I know they’re not going to make me famous. Indeed, even my sort-of successful mysteries are not going to make me famous.

But listen, friends. If all you want out of writing is to become famous, you will live a sad and disappointing life. Don’t even think about money.

The guy who runs the Jerry Jazz website told me that he will look at more stories. He got the two you see published because I entered his year-end contest for short stories on the site. I didn’t win, but was “short-listed” each time. Whatever that means.

I like to think that my mysteries also tell of the exploits and foibles of the human race, except there’s usually a dead body hanging around. It’s more fun if you try to put humans into your mysteries than cardboard cutouts.

So in a way, my “literary” work is good practice for my mystery work. Only time will tell which of those red-headed stepchildren will grow up to support me in my old age.