Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson here, and since tomorrow is Election Day, I’m going to start this post by begging everyone who hasn’t already voted early or by mail to vote in person tomorrow. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that this could be the most significant election of our lifetime.
My family wasn’t overtly political, but my parents were friends with several local elected officials who were Democrats and belonged to that party, despite the fact that our town was heavily Republican. My father was even appointed as town historian for a one year term thanks to those connections. Both parents voted in every election, even the very local ones held at odd times of the year. Shortly after my father was promoted and they moved to a new town, they were photographed at the polls and ended up with their picture in the newspaper.
1968 was the first year I was eligible to vote, since voting age back then was twenty-one. I was in college in Maine but still a resident of New York State. I have no specific memory of filling out or sending in an absentee ballot, but I must have. My folks would have made sure of it.
At that point, I wasn’t all that interested in elections, except to find a poster of a pregnant black woman wearing a political button reading “Nixon’s the One” (his campaign slogan) hilarious. Yes. I know. Tasteless. But that was about as nasty as the campaign got, although the criticism of vice-presidential candidate Ed Muskie for referring to our neighbors to the north as “Canucks” was way out of proportion to the seriousness of the “insult.”
1968, of course, was a year of protests. I was against the war in Vietnam, but I didn’t participate in any demonstrations. I did, however, manage to convince my father that those who did were not “communist dupes.” That I had friends who spent twelve hours on a bus with no bathroom to get to a major protest in Washington DC may have been what persuaded him to change his mind.
The closest I came to a student demonstration–Paris the previous summer when gendarmes blocked the street
There was no question about who I would vote for. Muskie was a Mainer who graduated from Bates, the same college where I was in my senior year. More importantly, I had often heard my father say that the only reason he didn’t vote for General Dwight D. Eisenhower, a man he admired tremendously, when he ran for President in 1952, was because Eisenhower had chosen Richard Nixon as his running mate.
On election night, my history professor invited students to his house to watch the results come in. My fiancé and I both attended. I don’t remember too much about that evening except that 1) we were served some really excellent hot chocolate and 2) no one even thought about questioning the outcome of the election. It was disappointing, but there was no reason to fear for the future of our country just because the Republicans won.
graduation the following spring–what innocents we were!
Kathy Lynn Emerson/Kaitlyn Dunnett has had sixty-four books traditionally published and has self published others. She won the Agatha Award and was an Anthony and Macavity finalist for best mystery nonfiction of 2008 for How to Write Killer Historical Mysteries and was an Agatha Award finalist in 2015 in the best mystery short story category. In 2023 she won the Lea Wait Award for “excellence and achievement” from the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance. She was the Malice Domestic Guest of Honor in 2014. She is currently working on creating new editions of her backlist titles. Her website is www.KathyLynnEmerson.com.
Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson (Monday), Kate Flora (Tuesday), John Clark (Thursday), and Joe Souza (Friday).
The scary part revolves around a ghost-dog wailing in the night. I’m not sure why it scared me so much, because by then, I’m going to guess I was around 10 or 11, I was reading plenty of mysteries and horror without any adverse effects, but even seeing the cover now gives me a chill. I guess it’s the combination of something frightening and unexplained up against the need to do what’s right and vulnerability? The heroine was trying to save an abused horse owned by scary crazy person on a neighboring farm. The ghost must’ve been written in a way that made it terrible and inexplicable. I don’t even remember and I still can’t say. I do remember the feeling it gave me. As kids, we had a habit of reading out loud to each other. I’m not sure how this happened in our otherwise unruly and cranky group, but we did up into the early teen years of us older kids, when it faded away. Anyway, I have a vivid memory of being in an upstairs room on a summer night with the window open and hearing my brother, on the patio below, reading the book to our younger siblings. I’d already read it, and I knew what the resolution was, and I still had to shut the window.
The only thing that compares is a few years later, when I was 14, and inexplicably home alone on a chilly, dark fall day. For hours, I read “In Cold Blood,” by Truman Capote. Our dog kept barking for no reason and I several times got up to look out the windows and make sure there were no mass murderers lurking out there. I even locked the doors, which we never did at our house in Augusta, since there were so many of us coming in and out at all hours (including the occasional stranger, a post for another day). It’s one of the few times in my life that I remember being happy when people returned home and I was no longer alone in the house. Boo!
Kaitlyn Dunnett/Kathy Lynn Emerson: I don’t remember being scared by any book when I was a child (movies, yes–the cyclops in The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad had me looking over my shoulder for weeks after I saw that one.) but I do know what book terrified me most as an adult. That was Stephen King’s Pet Sematary, with his Salem’s Lot as a close runner-up. Much as I admire him as a writer, I’ve never read another of his books except for the On Writing. He’s just too darned good at evoking terror. This was the novel, by the way, that King said scared even him and I believe it. As an aside, years later, an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer made use of the same, shall we say unsettling possibility, but in televised form I found it much less upsetting. Go figure.
te Flora, had a hundred acres of fields and woods, and our house was set a quarter-mile from the road, a driveway that was only passable on foot in the winter. We had wood stove heat only. The only running water was cold. And the house was built by my father, who’d never even built a birdhouse before. In the chill of the winter, the wind whipping the zero-degree temperature into minus digits, I was reading this fine book by myself, huddled on the couch, probably because I was too lazy to add a log to the fire, when I came to the part where the large demonic pig, Jodie, is seen outside the house, looking in with large glowing red eyes. I will swear to this day that I looked up at that point, across at the window, and saw those two large glowing eyes staring at me. I’m not sure if I ever finished the book, as I blacked out most of the next two years of my life in sheer terror that Jodie was hunting me.
Kait Carson: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. I don’t remember how old I was when I read the book, but it terrified me. I grew up in Rutherford, New Jersey, home of the then main campus of Fairleigh Dickinson University, and Iviswold Castle. Built in 1869, the Castle, as we called it, was originally known as Hill House. Despite the subsequent name change, and despite the building’s use as classroom space and administrative offices, the legend stuck. Generations of Rutherford kids dared each other to sneak into the ‘dungeon’ where all manner of horror, and certain death, awaited.
In spring and into early summer, South Florida streets disappear into a riot of color. Red royal poinciana trees, yellow tabebuia, and lavender orchid trees burst into bloom. The scent of orange blossoms perfumes the air. Jasmine runs riot. Bell shaped angel’s trumpets fill backyards, and all varieties of crepe myrtle turn the landscape into a crazy quilt of color.
a speaker at our conference in Wales,” they say. “We want you to a featured guest at our book club.” “I’m organizing a festival and want you to be on a panel.”
urgency to become a standout in the psychological thriller space. Your premise taps into fears that are painfully real, and that’s exactly what makes readers unable to put it down. With the right visibility strategy, this book can reach the audience that’s actively searching for exactly what you’ve written.
Sigh. Sometimes they’re so tempting. For example, how do I know whether this one is genuine? I’d love to talk about A Good Man with a Dog, but alas…One clue is that the Vermont Book Club (book club not bookclub) has its own website and she would have been writing from that.
e-book and trade paper. I was waiting to finalize the trade paperback of #4, Lethal Legend, until I could do another careful proofread of the text. So, I did that, made corrections to the e-book text already sent to D2D, and proceeded to go through the regular process for launching the print-on-demand version. I checked. I double checked. I clicked “approve.” The only thing I didn’t remember to look at was the release date. The print copy setup took everything I’d already chosen for the e-book . . . except for the release date. I totally forgot that unless I change it, that date automatically comes up as either the current date (e-book) or a date a week or so after approval (POD). So, dear readers, although it won’t be out in e-book format until December 8, the trade paperback of Lethal Legand can be ordered from all the usual bookstores NOW. Fortunately, book three, No Mortal Reason, will be available on November 10, so those collecting print editions of all four won’t have long to wait, but boy do I feel foolish!
Maureen Milliken will be at the Thompson Free Library Authors and Artisans Night Market, 4-7 p.m. today (Saturday, Oct. 24), at 186 East Main St., Dover-Foxcroft. The event includes local authors, vendors of crafts, baked goods, pottery, soap, fiber art, visual art and more. There is also hot food and hot drinks. Authors will be inside the library selling and signing books, vendors are outdoors and in the basement is the library’s 10 cent book sale. Come on up to beautiful Dover-Foxcroft, enjoy the last great days of fall in Maine, find some cool stuff and books, and help support a fantastic library.
I had a great time exploring the world of 1990 for my debut Raven: technologies that were nascent now ubiquitous, fears of the Cold War now gone but replaced by newer threats. My upcoming series however is set in contemporary America, following technology journalist Olivia Wright as she explores unregulated technologies, political manipulation, and all the ways technology can be turned against its users.
Wrapping up Emily St. John Mandel’s 
Vaughn Hardacker here. Several weeks ago, I received an email from ade@speedymetric.com, the CEO of speedymetric.com, asking if I would consider interviewing for a blog on the third novel in my Michael Houston & Anne Bouchard series: How Character Background Shapes Pressure in Quid Pro Quo: Vaughn C. Hardacker on Writing Tension.
