I had lunch with my agent, Meg, Saturday, just because we hadn’t seen each other in such a long time. Also, I love Meg. We caught up about kids and general social stuff and then got started on TV. Like me, she is cordless, getting her moving pictures from Amazon and Netflix and other streamers, and we got started on that “Have you seen this?” thing you do when you talk about TV. What really surprised me is that I hadn’t seen any of hers and she hadn’t seen any of mine. I thought we were soulmates. What happened? Continue reading
I know, I know, there’s Sayers and Christie and Tey, and Marsh, and my fave, Allingham, all of whom were better known as Golden Age goddesses of wrongful death, but Georgette Heyer will always hold a special place in my heart. She and Dorothy Parker were my muses when I started writing; I wanted to be the next Them. And she wrote marvelous (for the most part) mysteries about clever young people before and after WWII, good solid plots full of characters who you either fell in love with or wanted to strangle yourself.