First, thanks for the encouragement. Knowing someone is waiting to read my books really encourages me to keep writing them. 

Secondly, the answer is yes. There will be a third book. And hopefully a fourth…

That's the good news.

The bad news is that the next book isn't written yet.

But the other good news is that it is in the process of being written.

Book 3 has a title – "Opaque Rays."

And it has a setting, characters, and an overall plot. (Yes, I even know whodunit!)

The setting

First, let me explain that each of the Manziuk and Ryan books began with an idea for a setting that crept into my mind and germinated there. The seed for Shaded Light began to grow after a visit to a Japanese garden in Vancouver years before I began writing the book. The seed for Glitter of Diamonds was sown  while I was watching a Blue Jays game at the then Skydome in Toronto (now Rogers Centre). The seed for Opaque Rays was sown somewhere in my many visits with my mother in a nursing home in Markham. 

What happens after the seed is sown is that I usually change the setting quite a bit. The Japanese garden ended up being a much smaller garden set on an estate in Toronto. The Skydome became the mythical Diamond Dome. And the nursing home has become a downtown Toronto condo built to contain a group of seniors on each floor, all living in community.

Most of the members of my particular group have known one another for years, and all were involved in some aspect of the arts. In their retirement, they wanted to control their own destinies, so two of them built the building and designed it to create a self-contained living space on each floor, complete with a live-in staff of four and other daily or weekly staff.

When will Opaque Rays be available? I can't say for sure, but I'm hoping it will be completed by next spring, fall at the latest, always assuming nothing unexpected happens.

But I'm also working on three other books – a fantasy for my granddaughter and a memoir, so no guarantees.

I do plan to post a few short stories here, though – one involving Paul and Jacquie, so do come back.

My husband, naturally, was confused.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve lived for 35 years in a house where everyone else is Scandinavian!” I said. “And for all we know, my Scottish ancestors owed more than a few of their genes to the Vikings.”

He continued to look confused.

“True—” I walked around the room, stopping to look at the plaque that says ‘Tack För senast.’ “—my mysteries aren’t set in any of the Scandinavian countries, and my main characters are of Ukrainian and Jamaican ancestry, but surely there’s been some kind of Scandinavian influence on me in all those years!”

He nodded politely, and picked up a Dr. Seuss book to read to Leif.  

And I began the fascinating, never-before-attempted task of trying to analyze the extent of that presumed Scandinavian influences on me and my writing.

My husband’s mother’s parents, Jacob and Agnes Nelson, came to North America from Norway as children. His father’s parents, Peter and Emma Lindquist, came from Sweden. All four eventually ended up in the area of Swift Current, Saskatchewan, where they married, farmed, and raised their families.  

I first met them when I was 21, and married into the family three years later. But in all that time, I’d never once thought about the effect they’ve had on me. Until now. 

Practicality:

Of course, I can’t speak for all Scandinavian people; only the ones I’ve had personal contact with, but what strikes me the most, and what I think has probably had a cumulative effect on me and my writing, is the contrast between their extremely practical, prosaic nature and their high degree of integrity, and their love of fun and frivolous things. I mean, how else do you explain a people who eat both lutsefisk and rosettes? One a plain cod fish, soaked in – yes, lye as a preservative; the other a delightful deep-fried concoction of flour, sugar, and eggs with almond flavouring that has nothing to justify it except its wonderful taste?

The funny thing is, I don’t really associate fiction, including mysteries, with my husband’s family. It’s almost as if they’re too practical for such things. I know there are Scandinavian mystery writers, and I’ve even read some of their books, but for me there’s almost a disconnect. The Scandinavian people I’ve known love to tell stories, but the stories are usually true ones, with only a little exaggeration. There’s a reverence for the past, for the heritage that’s brought them this far, and also a confidence in the future. And most of the stories show their very practical, “If it has to be done, let’s get to it,” philosophy.

Stories – all of them true – leap to my mind….  

My father-in-law loved reading and would have preferred to go to university, but as the only son, he had to take over the farm when his father died. It was poor farming land, and he had to work long hours. And he had limited carpentry skills. With four young children and a house that had to be replaced, my mother-in-law realized they were never going to be able to get a new house built on the farm and they had no money to pay anyone else. So she decided to build the house herself. With a young girl to help with the children, my mother-in-law put walls together on the ground during the day and had her husband help her put them in place in the evening. And slowly but surely, she built a house.

When her third child was born with cerebral palsy, she did everything she could to help him. She even invented a walker so that he could get around more easily.

At the age of 60, she decided it was time she learned to swim, and at 85, she continued to swim laps several times a week into her 80s..

Her sister became a doctor at age 50 after deciding nursing was too restrictive.    

I’ll never forget going over to visit Les’s Norwegian grandparents, then in their late 80s, only to find the two of them alone at the church manse, up on a ladder painting the ceiling to get the house spruced up for the new pastor.

Or Les’s Swedish grandmother, also in her 80’s, determined to keep on crocheting and knitting sweaters and other items for other people even though she could barely see and had to have someone sit beside her reading the instructions.   

And then there’s the story of how their Swedish grandfather actually changed his name after coming to Canada. You see, there were two Peter Peterson’s in Swift Current Saskatchewan, and the mail was getting mixed up. So our Peter Peterson simply changed his name to Lindquist, which means “from the linden tree.” (Apparently there were quite a few linden trees where he grew up.) And he had no more difficulty getting his mail.     

Any time I think I can’t do something, I think about some of these stories and realize I can do anything if I want to enough.
    
Impracticality:

The Scandinavian people I know have a great love for laughter and good food. I have to say that the recipes passed down to me by Les’s grandmothers and mother are, for the most part, quite elaborate, and often require special equipment: a variety of different implements for deep-frying rosettes and timballs, a krumkake iron, lefse grills, molds for kransekake (a totally neat layered cake in the shape of a Christmas tree), special tart pans for sandbakkeles, several types of lefse rollers, etc. etc.

The contract between the practicality and even stoicism on one side and the amount of time and effort the women were willing to spend creating these very elaborate (and very good-tasting), but highly transient delicacies has always amazed me.

Krumkake (crumb cake), for instance, requires a round iron something like a waffle iron except flat. You put a little of the dough in the middle of the sizzling hot iron, then close the iron and flatten the dough. After a minute or so, you carefully take out the flat piece of krumkake and roll it on a special round wooden spindle, then let it cool to make a spiral log-like item. You don’t just make one, but dozens. And trust me, it can keep you hopping! All very time-consuming.   

And I wonder how to explain the two sides—the practical and the impractical—except, perhaps, to say that we all need both. We need the serious moments and we need the frivolous, fun times, too.

And you’re thinking, what has any of this to do with my writing mysteries?

Up until now, I’d have said not much. I’d have said the biggest influences on my style of writing were the books I’d read by Christie, Sayers, Heyer, and the like. But in the past month, I’ve come to realize that a good deal of my interest in people, and what makes them tick, has come, not from the books I’ve read, but from the people I’ve come to know in my extended Scandinavian family. I’ve realized that everyone, and I mean everyone, has a story to tell; that sometimes there are contradictions; and that circumstances affect people, but no more than people affect circumstances.

And I am inordinately pleased that reviewers of my latest book, Glitter of Diamonds, have noted both the humor and the compassion in it. Yes, there is a murder and all that encompasses, but far more important to me than whether people like my writing or not is that we recognize that every person has a story to share, and that every story matters.

To my Scandinavian family, who welcomed me without reservation, “Tack För senast.” (thanks for the hospitality).

You know, my husband has always wanted to travel, but I’ve never had much interest in flying around the world. Fortunately, he’s been able to make some trips through his job, so we’ve both been happy. But I’ve just realized that I’d like to make a trip soon—to Sweden and Norway. Maybe I can even set a book there!

(By the way, I actually missed the deadline for Mystery Reader with this. Ah well…)

So – what could I use for Shaded Light ? I thought of a light bulb – nope, too easy to break! I thought of sunglasses – way too expensive. I thought of – a lot of different things. But none of them worked. And then it occurred to me – tiny parasols (or if you prefer, umbrellas)!

My top 10 reasons for using parasols to promote Shaded Light

10. Parasols are used to shade you from the light. Get it? Shaded Light. Duh.

9. The murder takes place in a Japanese garden – and the parasols are clearly oriental-looking.

8. There are umbrellas on the patio tables in the book.

7. A lot of drinks are served in the book. Some of them might have had parasols.

6. Since small children love the parasols, you can take them home for your kids so you have something when they ask, "What did you bring me?"

5. You can make yourself a drink, stick the parasol in it, and immediately feel great.

4. I found a really fabulous parasol/umbrella that made me think of mysteries and Shaded Light in particular, and I needed an excuse to use it.

3. If it's really hot, you might use the parasol as a miniature fan to get some breeze going.

2. You can put your heels together and hold the parasol over your head while pretending to be Mary Poppins.

1. You can hold the parasol with one hand and tap dance while warbling "Singing in the Rain."

From my son #3:

"Mom thought we had nothing better to do than to snip the pointy ends off those little sticks!" 

Shaded Light wasn't my first published book, but it was my first mystery. And it took a lot of sweat, and a lot of time.

I believe I've loved mysteries for as long as I can remember. When I was young, one of my very favorite games was, "How many marbles are in my hand?" On Sunday afternoons when my parents and I visited with my Grandmother and my Aunt Margaret and Uncle Albert. Uncle Albert and I played Chinese Checkers. After he got tired of letting me win, he would take a bunch of marbles, arrange some of them in his hands, and shake his hands. I would have to guess how many marbles he had. Of course he would try to trick me by keeping all the marbles from hitting the others or going fast so a few sounded like more. I loved trying to guess the right number.

And I went right on loving anything that involved having to follow clues and discover the "truth." Of course, I read a ton of mysteries! That's the background.   The day after Christmas, 1982, I was reading a mystery I had picked up at the library. It was a dud. I threw it to the (carpeted) floor, and began complaining. In the course of my complaints, I said, "I could do better than this."

My helpful husband said, "So, why don't you then?"

I took the challenge and spent the Christmas holidays writing (in longhand). Dreaming up a plot wasn't difficult. Everywhere I go, I am always thinking, "This would be a good spot to find a body." I brainstormed and made a list. Then I remembered the garden. Some years earlier, we'd been walking in a beautiful Japanese garden in Vancouver, and as we came around a corner, I saw a beautifully shaped bush and the thought that jumped into my mind was, "That would be a great place to see two feet sticking out." (No, it wouldn't really – trust me – but writers tend to have weird thoughts.) So now I remembered the garden and decided to use it for the setting.

But then I needed a reason for people to go to the garden, and a victim, and detectives. So, I decided first on a bystander character. In this case, it turned out to be Lorry. Then I needed a guy or two (to get a little romance in) and chose Nick and Kendall (their names were different to start with). We needed a location, so I gave Kendall a family and made his dad a lawyer, and gave them a new estate with a Japanese garden – and then it just started to flow.

So I wrote a first draft from Lorry's point of view. But I realized there was a problem. Having a bystander's point of view was too limiting. So I decided I should try writing it from the point of view of the detective.

I decided to go with police people because I likely know more about them than I do PIs. Which isn't a whole lot. But I found all kinds of books on homicides and forensics, and so on.. And later I talked to some real police people.

Now I had to choose my own personal police people. I decided I wanted to have two people because that allows for more discussion and arguing and all that good stuff. Enter Manziuk and Ryan. I had them both the moment I started to put something on paper. They just seemed to flow, as thought they were real people. I've known several very "big" men, and always felt a little intimidated when they looked "down" on me. And I have a friend who is a little like Jacquie – prone to jump in where angels wouldn't go. I could see Paul and Jacquie arguing with each other, her making up in energy what she lacked in size, him feeling if she would just take it slower and listen, it would all work out. So, I wrote another draft using the police point of view.

Then Christmas holidays ended and I was back to homeschooling.

For almost 10 years, I left my work, even then called Shaded Light, in a filing cabinet. In 1991, I pulled it out and read it. Not bad. I began to work on it, this time combining the two viewpoints and adding others.

When I had the first third of the book written, I took it with me to a writer's conference and found an editor who liked it. But he couldn't' convince his publishing company to go with it. He did, however, give me some good suggestions to make the book stronger.

I continued to work on it.

Then, in 1998, a writer friend suggested I try St Kitts. They read it and made some suggestions. I followed most of their suggestions. And they decided to publish the book, even keeping my title.

So, 18 years after I first started the book, it was finally in print! Then the question was, "How long will it take me to write the sequel?"