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 Spring, 2005 - Vol. 3, Number 3
ONCE UPON A CRIME MYSTERY BOOKSTORE
Interviewed by Ellen Hart
This time, the Minnesota Crime Wave interviewed Pat Frovarp and Gary Shulze, the owners of Once Upon a Crime Mystery Bookstore in Minneapolis. Here are their responses:
Q: What made you two decide to buy a mystery bookstore?
A: Pat loved the store—she had worked there for a few years, and been a loyal customer for many; I loved the store, I'd been a regular customer and found myself frequenting the store only when Pat worked there; we started dating, fell in love, moved in together and realized we had over 10,000 books between us in bookcases and on most available surface areas. We really had no choice.
Q: What's the hardest part of running a bookstore?
A: Opening the door. No, really—it sticks a little. Other than that, restocking can be daunting.
Q: How do you decide what books to feature in your store?
A: Generally, new hardcover titles go up front. We have a large rack that holds about 70 titles—all face out. Plus we rotate some of our favorites at the checkout counter. New paperbacks are all face out on several racks, plus all local authors appear face out on a separate rack. Then, of course we move things around a lot. Neat book jacket art helps. Once I did a whole row of books with eyes staring at you from the cover. Then of course, we have some sections featuring "1st in series," "Edgar awards winners" and U.K. authors.
Q: Do you do a lot of hand-selling of books?
A: Constantly—it's our favorite part of the job.
Q: What can local writers do to help get the word out about the amazing Once Upon a Crime?
A: Newsletters, web sites, store appearances, walk around Lake Harriet wearing our T-shirt.
Q: In planning an author event, what things do you need from the writer?
A: First and foremost—a good sense of humor. We have found that—and authors have echoed it—the most important thing with these events is for the authors and booksellers to meet each other. Its the best way to get us to hand-sell their books. Large crowds are just an added bonus.
Q: When you receive a galley from a publisher, what goes into your decision to read it or not to read it?
A: At least one of us makes sure to read books being promoted by visiting authors. Beyond that, an authors first books get primary attention. With the time left over, we read for fun and call it "homework."
Q: Once Upon a Crime is such an inviting, cozy bookstore. Why do you suppose that is?
A: We got rid of Stilwell.
Q: Who are your current favorite mystery writers?
A: Local authors rule! You are all so incredibly supportive. Some of our non-local favorites (and this list changes constantly) that come to mind are: Reed Coleman, Ken Bruen, Steve Hamilton, Joe Lansdale, Jacqueline Winspear, Julia Spencer-Fleming.
AH, THE WRITING LIFE
By Deborah Woodworth
It's an unseasonably warm February day in Minnesota. I'm sitting in a coffee house, sipping my tall skim latte, writing this newsletter piece and thinking deep writerly thoughts, like "Is this a great life, or what?" Followed closely by "I'd kill for sick time and paid vacation," but that's another column. Back to writing as a wonderful way to spend a career—yes, I believe that, I really do. I have no hankering to do anything else with my life. Yet when someone asks what my writing day is like, I hesitate. When life cooperates, I get a restful night's sleep and awaken already thinking about the scene I'm working on. Those ideas start my writing for the day. I'll write for four to five hours, usually broken into two sessions, either at home or at a coffeehouse. Life, however, so rarely cooperates. I'm not talking about the tasks required by the book business, such as promotion. I mean all that other pesky stuff—childbirth, bailing Uncle Otis out of the drunk tank...
Since I have neither children nor an Uncle Otis, I figured this writing gig would work out fine. So why has it been months since I've been able to sit in a coffeehouse and write? Well, let me just describe the last eight or so weeks, as I've tried to finish a manuscript. Most of those weeks my husband and I have shared a variety of colds, fevers and coughs. Whoever isn't currently delirious must make the runs to Walgreens for more and stronger medication. Then there was that fateful moment, two weeks before Christmas, when I snipped the skin off the tip of my index finger. This was not one of my better ideas. Nerve endings are damaged, and new skin must grow. (Cool details available on a need-to-know basis.) The healing process, as my physician so gleefully informed me, takes "weeks and weeks." Ergo, no typing. I scribble by hand, and my husband does his best to translate to the computer, in between bouts of consumption. The holiday season was in there somewhere. Don't get me started on that!
This story of woe and chest colds does have a happy ending. Somehow, with lots of help, my manuscript got drafted. Much of the help came from my sainted husband's ten unmangled typing fingers—not to mention those special herbs I slipped into his tea. (Really, don't mention them.) Further impetus to keep writing came from a technique I've used before: Find some way to make it fun. Reconnect with the joy of writing. Since I'd have to write by hand, here's what I did—armed with a credit card and one index finger still capable of dialing a phone, I ordered a replica seventeenth-century, Venetian-glass dip pen and six bottles of ink in assorted colors. For a change of pace, I also dug out my great grandfather's slender dip pen with the split gold nib, mother-of-pearl stem, and generations-old ink stains. Now, tell me I don't know how to party!
Here's my point: To keep writing through the vicissitudes of life, figure out what works for you. For some, it's sheer discipline and routine. Others need the occasional cabin in the woods with no cable television. Many writers, however, have limited choices and pressing, unpredictable demands on their time. Discipline and scheduling work best when you have control over your time, and they don't work at all if you're me. If that's your situation and you need a boost to keep you in the game, be open to experimenting. Give the kids some crayons and paper, while you write with colored pencils. Put on some accordion music and pretend you're at a sidewalk café in Paris. Loosen up that imagination; it'll be good for your writing and your sanity. It's okay to have fun with your writing—the publishing process will provide you with all the suffering you'll need to call yourself a writer. Meanwhile, how much you write in a session isn't nearly as important as finding ways to keep on doing it, day after day. I recommend joy.
MURDEROUS MINNESOTA?
By William Kent Krueger
In February, I found out that my novel Blood Hollow has been nominated for the Minnesota Book Award. This, of course, pleased me tremendously. Then I looked at the names of the other nominees: K.J. Erickson, P.J.Tracy, Erin Hart, and Judith Guest. Suddenly I felt like a dim star in a too brilliant constellation.
The mystery writing scene in Minnesota has always been marvelously active, with great writers producing great works. Perennial bestsellers John Sandford and Tami Hoag, National Book Aword winner Pete Hautman, tough guys like Edgar winner David Housewright, the more lyrical Mary Logue, and of course, the cohorts of the Crime Wave, Minnesota has fostered us all. At last count we have nearly forty mystery writers publishing regularly in the state. This may not seem like a lot by L.A. standards, but it is remarkable in a place most people consider notable only for its twin monsters: summer mosquitoes and winter cold.
What's at the bottom of this frenzy of creative mayhem and murder? One theory blames the harsh winters up here that can last from November to May with the nights too long, the snow too deep, and the cabin walls too close and claustrophobic. This is, perhaps, a time when evil lurks in the hearts even of folk supposedly sane. In Minnesota, we deal with it reasonably.That is, we put our murderous impulses on paper.
Another speculation involves what I call the "kick your dog" theory of displaced aggression. A friend of mine once told me her take on the difference between the citizens of New York City and Minnesotans. New Yorkers, she said, are in your face kind of people. If they have a problem with you, they'll tell you right to your face. Minnesotans are different. If they have a problem with you, they won't say anything. They'll wait until you turn your back and then they'll kick your dog.
I'm not sure if we write as a way to channel our aggressions more appropriately or if it's something that comes from the long dark winters, or maybe even a function of the simple fact that we live in a state that encourages the arts in all venues. Whatever the reason, Minnesota overflows with creativity. Dark sometimes, but always fascinating and never less than excellent. It's a place I'm happy to call home.
Read back issues:
Winter, 2002 - Vol. 1, Number 1
Spring, 2002 - Vol. 1, Number 2
Fall, 2002 - Vol. 1, Number 3
Winter, 2003 - Vol. 2, Number 1
Spring, 2003 - Vol. 2, Number 2
Fall, 2003 - Vol. 2, Number 3
Spring, 2004 - Vol. 3, Number 1
Fall, 2004 - Vol. 3, Number 2
Spring, 2005 - Vol. 3, Number 3
Fall, 2005 - Vol. 3, Number 4
Spring, 2006 - Vol. 4, Number 1
Fall, 2006 - Vol. 4, Number 2
Spring, 2007 - Vol. 5, Number 1 |
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