What in life has driven me to want to be a writer? What were the influences that made me want to sit in a dark corner of my house and kill people? What terrible decisions did I make in my life to take me down this path? These are the questions posed to me by my therapist, sometimes known as Saint and other times just plain called Danger.

To answer these nefarious questions, we have to meander back to eight-year-old Matt and the story of the blind pony he rode into a swimming pool by mistake. No, that is probably a story about his stunted personal life and unrelated to writing mysteries and thrillers, where people walk razor-thin paths to stay alive, stop the villains, solve the mystery, and save the day. That attempt of eight-year-old Matt, due to a surprise ambush by a chicken, was far from saving the day, but it was a bit of an eye-opener and spurred many new swimming pool signs being put up in Ohio saying No Blind Ponies in the Deep End.
The love of mysteries began with either the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew. I’m not sure which one came first, sort of like that chicken and egg thing.

The Hardy Boys is where I first realized the local police were bumblers and that private investigators, curious sleuths, or even a couple of high school boys were needed if any crimes were ever going to get solved. I also realized that boys are smarter than their fathers, aunts are always fussy, everybody has a friend with an endless appetite, and in fiction, even the oldest, most beat-up jalopy can outrace the fanciest sports car.
Which came first? The Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew? The Hardy Boys book series debuted in 1927, while Nancy Drew made her first appearance a few years later in 1930. Edward Stratemeyer of the Stratemeyer Syndicate created both characters. Needless to say, Nancy had a similar ‘oh shucks’ father, a blue roadster, and countless skills such as being fluent in multiple languages, the ability to pilot planes, paint like a pro, and being proficient in judo—all by the age of eighteen.

Other favorites included Encyclopedia Brown, a young whiz of a detective who proves bullies can be outsmarted, girls can be badass tough, adults are useless, and criminals can be bluffed. The Great Brain, aka Tom Dennis Fitzgerald, taught me that the protagonist can be flawed as he cons the neighborhood kids out of their money in between solving crimes. And, of course, adults are useless. I never realized then that I, too, was destined to grow up useless.

Louis L’Amour. These are the preteen years. Every book I could get my hands on. This is the tough, smart, loner with nothing to lose who just wants to be left alone, but the baddies refuse, or want what he has, or are jealous that the women look his way. It is all about the underdog, unwavering principles, and the importance of kin. Lee Child took a page from L’Amour to create Reacher, a wandering hero who comes into town with no baggage, no permanent address, a strict moral code—and proceeds to kick ass on the baddies.
High school for me was all about sports, and I may have temporarily forgotten how to read. I believe I began my relationship with Robert Parker during that time, though, and thus discovered that men can cook, be faithful, wisecrack, and that it is good to have a friend who can kick some serious ass.

College was about getting my work done so I could party. I did play on an intramural basketball and softball team that was pretty good our freshman year but got progressively worse each year after. I did get pretty good at playing quarters, poker, and eating late-night hot dogs.
But then come the Carl Hiaasen years. Humor in mysteries. Colorful characters. Saving the environment, fighting against corporate greed, being wild and zany. Mysteries can have ferocious humor, eccentric kooky protagonists, and despicable villains. Game on.

Carl tag-teamed with Elmore Leonard in the 90s to cement this concept for me: mysteries can be sharp, funny, and cool, and characters can have snappy, realistic dialogue.
That, in a nutshell, is my formation as a writer. In two words. Bad Monkey. Write on!
About the Author
Matt Cost was a history major at Trinity College. He owned a mystery bookstore, a video store, and a gym before serving a ten-year sentence as a junior high school teacher. In 2014, he was released and began writing. And that’s what he does. He writes histories and mysteries.
Cost has published six books in the Mainely Mystery series, starting with Mainely Power. He has also published six books in the Clay Wolfe Trap series, starting with Wolfe Trap. There are two books in the Brooklyn 8 Ballo series, starting with Velma Gone Awry. For historical novels, Cost has published At Every Hazard and its sequel, Love in a Time of Hate, as well as I am Cuba. The Not So Merry Adventures of Max Creed began a new series this past April. The second book in the chronicles, EveryThing vs. Max Creed, is now out.
Cost now lives in Brunswick, Maine, with his wife, Harper. There are four grown children: Brittany, Pearson, Miranda, and Ryan. Cost now spends his days at the computer, writing.


Next week at Maine Crime Writers there will be posts by Rob Kelley (Monday), Matt Cost (Tuesday), Allison Keeton (Thursday), and Kait Carson (Friday). There will also be an interview with MCW alum Bruce Robert Coffin on Wednesday.
Maureen Milliken and Kate Flora will be at the 


The next day I started writing The War Within. One of the first things I was told about writing was to write what you know. I knew about dysfunctional people; I knew about being an angry teen staying one step ahead of jail time; I knew about fighting a war within me; I knew the USMC, and I’d been to war. I finished the book, entered it in the International Literary Awards, and won the $1,500 second prize. I also learned that I had some talent, but needed to learn the craft. Little did I know that the book would be a healing process. It helped me realize that I had been wrong about one thing–Vietnam did affect me one hell of a lot more than I thought. In time, my wife and I reunited and stayed together until cancer took her from me in 2006. A great deal of Vaughn Hardacker is in Connor Quinn. Quinn is possibly the most unlikeable protagonist I’ve ever written, but he’s also the nearest and dearest to my heart. He and I walked the same walk (although his journey was more about what I could have been than what I have been), and we shared the same convoluted thought processes. When people thank me for my service, I would ignore them, thinking: “Yeah … where were you fifty-eight years ago?” Now I can finally say, “You’re welcome,” without getting angry. BTW, that’s another ACOA trait: I can hold a grudge forever. Possibly because that’s easier than apologizing for my idiotic behavior.








Would be delighted to see you there. Gabi Stiteler will be holding my conversational feet to the fire and there will be cake. I’m also launching a series of library and bookstore events through the fall. It’s gonna be a hella busy Fall.


Some thoughts about breaking the log jam:
That said, News From Away will be out… sometime. I wish I could be more definite. The one definite thing I can say is that it will be out. Sometime.








Margaret Frazer encountered this same phenomenon. “For the one series, the main character is a Benedictine nun in England in the 1400s. I always make the story fit the reality, not the other way around. I even try to keep my vocabulary pre-1500, which helps me stay in the characters’ mindsets. And then I get something like one Amazon.com comment about The Sempster’s Tale—that some of the characters have modern attitudes. The attitudes they have may be modern, yes, but those were attitudes held by some medieval people, too, and I found them in my research.” A review of Frazer’s other series, featuring a traveling player, praised how well she detailed how things were done in medieval theater, but much of that she was making up. There is so much we simply don’t know about that period of history that she had to extrapolate.
When I was working on Face Down Among the Winchester Geese, I was unable to turn up any information concerning the disposition of unclaimed, murdered bodies in 1560s England. Was there such a thing as a morgue? The OED told me that the word was not yet in use and indicated that there was unlikely to have been a specific place where murder victims were customarily taken. It only seems logical that some procedure was followed, but lacking specifics, I decided to have my sleuth claim the body at the murder scene by saying it was that of a relative.













