But sometimes I really prefer a paperback book.

That’s why I decided to create Large Print paperback editions of the first two Q.C. Davis mystery/suspense novels.

The Worried Man (Q.C. Davis 1)

The night before they plan to move in together, Chicago stage-actress-turned-lawyer Quille finds the man she loves dead in his apartment.

Suspicious of police based on bitter experience, Quille vows to uncover the real story behind Marco’s death. 

The closer she gets to the truth, though, the less likely she’ll survive to tell it….

The Charming Man (Q.C. Davis 2)

Chicago lawyer Quille still grieves the death of the man she loved, but agrees to help a friend search for a missing college girl.

The search takes her to an aging apartment complex that looms on the edge of the Chicago River.

Cut off from the authorities by the worst blizzard in the city’s history, Quille must find the missing woman before a killer does.

And before anyone else ends up dead.

I hope all types of eyes enjoy!

P.S. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases made through this site, but that doesn’t add any cost to you, the reader.

The post Q.C. Davis Mysteries In Large Print appeared first on Lisa Lilly.

Girls Are Popular

The temptation to use Girl was strong. It’s a great shorthand way of saying if you liked The Girl On The Train or Gone Girl (or before that, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo), you’ll like this book.

And most of the time that would be true. All of those books are well-written suspense novels that feature an intriguing woman character who, if not the protagonist, is at least an important main character.

So why not take advantage of that?

Girl Attorneys (Not)

In addition to being a writer I’m also a lawyer, though I don’t practice much anymore. I drew from my memories of being a newer, younger woman lawyer when I created Quille (Q. C.) Davis, the protagonist in my new mystery series.

Quille is a former child stage actress and a current attorney.

When she acted throughout her childhood, she had no issue being called a girl because that’s what she was. Probably, like me and many young women I knew, she might not even have objected to the term while still in college.

But once you’re a woman in the professional world, things change.

I used to share office space with a male attorney who’d been practicing law for over 25 years.

He often came back from court and complained about the “girl” arguing against him on the other side of the case. He never referred to young male attorneys as “boys,” or, for that matter, specifically mentioned that they were male.

After the third or fourth time, I said, “Oh, when did they start letting 12-year-olds take the bar exam in Illinois?”

He laughed and asked me what I thought he ought to say. I suggested “woman” or simply “attorney.” After I made similar comments 10 or 15 times he did his best to stop using Girl to describe adult women.

I didn’t want to do to my character what many older attorneys did to me when I was a young lawyer, so I couldn’t bring myself to call Quille a girl even in the title.

Girls And Women As Heroes

Despite that some of the Girl books feature strong woman characters, the use of Girl for an adult woman to me uncomfortably echoes a trope I dislike in a lot of mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels.

That trope is violence–often extreme violence–against women.

I don’t object to the idea that some mystery and suspense books have a female victim. It’s part of the genre that there’s a crime and so there’s a victim.

But a few years ago I decided I would no longer read books that revolved around women being terrorized or tortured, much as I love thrillers, suspense, and mysteries.

Whether intentional or not, these stories struck me as a warning to women who did certain things. Like living alone, walking alone, or not having a boyfriend or husband nearby to “protect” them.

As an author, I understand that vulnerability in a character is important. It’s what makes us feel for a character and care what happens to her or him. And I’m not in any way saying that no one should write a book with a female victim or that I’ll never do it.

But I prefer to be a little more realistic about it.

Statistically, men are far more likely than women to be the victims of violence by strangers, which is most often the type of violence depicted in fiction. With the exception of victims of serial killers (which fortunately are uncommon), most murder victims are men.

Also, I am more interested in writing and reading about a woman protagonist who is the hero.

That’s what drew me to Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshawski, one of the first fictional female private eyes.

I love the way V.I. fights for the underdog, stands up for what she believes in, and helps people. All of these things don’t mean V.I. is not vulnerable at times or that she isn’t sometimes in peril.

But her role is primarily that of the protagonist who solves crimes, fixes problems, and helps people, not as a victim.

A Theme Without Girls

So how to tie my titles together without a Girl?

At first I thought about songs. The Worried Man’s title comes from the Worried Man Blues. (I used to play and sing folk and bluegrass.)

The use of Man rather than Girl appealed to me, as did the ambiguity. The Worried Man of the title could be the victim, a suspect, or one of Quille’s friends who worries that she’s putting herself in danger while investigating the death of the man she loved.

But the next book is set in a blizzard in River City in Chicago’s South Loop. No good song titles were coming to mind as I worked on the outline.

Then someone on my e-newsletter list suggested using Man in each title instead.

Immediately the title The Charming Man came to mind. (I’m about mid-way through the first draft of it now.) I’ve also thought about a third book: The Fractured Man.

I like that this theme offers a different twist on the Girl book title idea, yet I hope it evokes the trend enough so that people realize the QC. Davis books are mystery/suspense novels.

I also hope it conveys a bit of Quille’s attitude and mine as the author.

Do you have thoughts on using Man rather than Girl? Or on your favorite Girl books? Please share in the comments.

The Worried Man is now available for preorder on multiple ebook platforms or you can buy the paperback here.

The post No Girls Here: Naming The Worried Man appeared first on Lisa Lilly.

After discussing the book, I started  thinking about whether the story would change were the characters’ genders reversed. I’ve tried not to include too many spoilers in my thoughts below, but if you haven’t read Rebecca, proceed with caution.

• The age difference between the narrator and de Winter would be a more pivotal part of the story and would be addressed directly if Maggie de Winter, a fortyish widow, married a young male about twenty years old. As written, while a few comments are made about Max marrying a “young bride,” and the narrator’s youth combined with her social class makes her uncomfortable running Manderley, the age difference is rarely remarked upon. Further, no one questions that the narrator in Rebecca truly loves with Max de Winter. Understanding her actions at the end of the book turns on that. Readers might speculate far more about whether a young male narrator with no resources of his own married Maggie de Winter solely for her money.
• If the first spouse were named Reginald rather than Rebecca, he might never have married. We eventually learn that Max de Winter was shocked and revolted when soon after their marriage Rebecca told him of horrible things she had done and expected to continue to do. While not spelled out, her “awful” behavior is that she was sexually active. Given the desire to continue to have multiple sexual partners, a man in the 1930s would be more likely to be able to support himself or to have inherited money or property, making it less likely that he would choose to enter a relationship that is by definition monogamous. Also, it seems more likely Reginald’s sexual exploits would have been forgiven or at least tolerated even after marriage, thus avoiding the central conflict between de Winter and Spouse No. 1. 

• The issue that most enrages de Winter—that Rebecca might have a baby that is not his who would then inherit his estate—also would disappear for biological reasons. If Reginald had sex resulting in progeny, Maggie de Winter would know the child was not hers, nor would the child inherit from Maggie.

• The underlying premise of the book would fail. Next to the opening line about Manderley, the most well-known aspect of Rebecca is that the reader never learns the narrator’s name. When she is named at all, she is the “second Mrs. De Winter.” (Rebecca at least gets a first name, as well as having the novel named after her, though we don’t know what her last name was before de Winter.) One of the most striking scenes to me is when the narrator answers her first call at Manderley and, when the caller asks for Mrs. de Winter, says in confusion that Mrs. de Winter is dead. All of that changes if a male narrator marries Maggie de Winter, whose first spouse was named Reginald. First, “de Winter” probably wasn’t Maggie’s name, as she no doubt changed hers to her husband’s when she married the first time. So Reginald’s first and last name become known, and Maggie’s original last name is unknown. Second, when Maggie married again, she almost certainly would have changed her last name to the male narrator’s. And if she didn’t, it’s highly unlikely the male narrator would change his to match hers. Even today, 70-80% of women in the U.S. take their husband’s last name on marriage, and I could not find statistics on how many men take their wives’ last names (so I’m guessing not many). In short, a book about a “second Mr. de Winter” would be far more likely to be about, say, the son of a president than the second spouse of an older, well-to-do woman. 

• Finally, were the book named Reginald rather than Rebecca and the protagonist male, the book might have gotten a better reception from critics. Critics dismissed Rebecca as a romance and of no consequence. Happily for du Maurier, readers loved it, and Alfred Hitchcock, master of suspense, made it into a movie. Published in 1938, the book is considered a classic and has never gone out of print. As I write this, out of over 20 million paperback books on Amazon, Rebecca’s Amazon Best Seller rank is 4,248.

The post The Second Mr. de Winter: What If Genders Were Reversed In Rebecca? appeared first on Lisa Lilly.

Why the bias toward men still survives is puzzling considering the success of Frankenstein, as well as of works by other women horror writers like Shirley Jackson (The Lottery, The Haunting of Hill House). But something Carrie pointed out on our panel is that when women write horror, suspense or thrillers, it’s often called something else. I read The Lottery in English class, and a lot of people read Frankenstein in school as well.  So these horror tales are called literature, not horror.  (I don’t know why there needs to be distinction between the two, but that’s a whole other post.)  Happily, when I asked the audience of about 40-50 for our panel what they thought, most did not seem to care if authors were male or female, they were just looking for good books.  One young woman said she hoped women would not use pen names or initials because she actively looks for women writers.  She believes they are more likely to develop the characters’ interior lives than are men, and that’s something she likes in fiction.

Another thing we talked about is the portrayal of women as victims. Based on a lot of popular movies, TV and fiction, one would think strangers are a great danger to women. Curious about how reality and fiction match, I checked the FBI website. It turns out over 75% of homicide victims are men, not women.  (There is one exception. Serial killers, who are rare in real life, are more apt to target women.)  Even more interesting to me was that men, not women, are more likely to be killed by strangers.  Women are more likely to be killed by people they know. Specifically, husbands, boyfriends, and relatives. Which led me to comment that despite what we see on TV, the most dangerous thing for a woman to do probably is not to walk down a dark alley, but to get married.

The Comic Con panel attendees, many of whom are Buffy fans (as am I), were great to talk with on this point. These readers want to see strong women characters. They love reading about and watching on film girls and women who are portrayed as three-dimensional characters in all type of roles, including as heroes.

And the more such books and films and TV shows sell, the more of them there will be.

________________

The Awakening for Kindle:

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