Stereotypes

People think that all of us Mainers are lumberjacks and lobsterman; we eat clam chowder for breakfast and pepper our sentences with "wicked"; we call moose, dress in shiny yellow sou'westers, bury our cats in pet semataries; all of us wear Bean Boots; trade dry one liners about not getting from there to here down at the variety store; live in quaint little cottages by the sea with views of pointed firs and Mount Cadillac rising in the distance; have a weird fetish for moderate Republican female senators; drink maple syrup straight from the tree; spend our Sundays locked in life and death curling matches; talk like a bad actors doing a bad version of a Down East accent; ayuh.

Having said that, here I am curling.

Radio Forum

I had the pleasure this morning of being interviewed by Joan Clemons on WERU 89.9 FM's "Writers Forum." It's an unusual radio show in that it usually features two or more writers reading from their work and having a back-and-forth conversation. My fellow guest was another Camden mystery writer, Vicki Doudera, author of the Darby Farr series, A House to Die For and Killer Listing. I have to admit that, having finished my reading from the prologue and first chapter of The Poacher's Son, it was nice to be able to sit back and listen to Vicki. As is always the case once I get behind a microphone, I didn't want the show to end so soon. Click here to listen to the segment.

Top 100 Mystery Novels of All Time

I got my new copy of The 3rd Degree: The Official Newsletter of the Mystery Writers of America the other day. This year marks the 65th anniversary of the Edgar Awards, and the MWA is updating a list its members put together in the 1990s of the "Top 100 Mysteries of All Time." Here is the previous list. I've read fewer of these books than I care to admit (more than a third, but less than half). I should definitely catch up on my reading before my survey arrives. What books would you add to this list? I need suggestions.

Recommended Reading

Kirkus Reviews asked me which book I'm most looking forward to in 2011. There are lots, but the return of Kurt Wallander is definitely at the top of my list:

Paul Doiron: “One book I’m really looking forward to in 2011 is the English translation of Henning Mankell’s The Troubled Man(Knopf, March 29). I can't think of a character in contemporary crime fiction that feels as real to me as Kurt Wallander. I’ve read reviews that criticize the way Mankell chronicles the mundane details of Wallander’s day-to-day existence—all those rumpled shirts and take-away hamburgers—but I’m more captivated by the prosaic quality of these books than I am by the political issues at their centers. Because we identify so closely with Wallander, we share his shock and moral repulsion at the horrific crimes he investigates. Mankell’s achievement is that he takes us inside the lived experience of another human being who just happens to be a police detective. He makes us believe in Wallander’s reality.” Doiron made our Best Mysteries of 2010 list with The Poacher’s Son. His next book, Trespasser, is out June 21 on Minotaur Books. 

I should have mentioned that Mankell's mysteries have damned good plots, too.

Do Novels Make You More Empathetic?

A new study suggests they do. Unfortunately, we seem to be trending in the wrong direction in our habits:

The number of adults who read literature for pleasure sank below 50 percent for the first time ever in the past 10 years, with the decrease occurring most sharply among college-age adults. And reading may be linked to empathy. In a study published earlier this year psychologist Raymond A. Mar of York University in Toronto and others demonstrated that the number of stories preschoolers read predicts their ability to understand the emotions of others. Mar has also shown that adults who read less fiction report themselves to be less empathic.

As a novelist, I naturally believe this observation to be true. I'd go further and say that writing fiction forces a person to develop their empathic capabilities even further. Then again, many novelists are self-involved jerks, so who knows?

Hat tip: Zoe Pollock.