We are delighted to welcome author Judy Penz Sheluk to Omnimystery News.
Judy begins a new mystery series with Skeletons in the Attic (Imajin Books; August 2016 trade paperback and ebook formats) and in today's guest post she talks about how important setting is to the story.
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Photo provided courtesy of
Judy Penz Sheluk
I've never been to Minnesota, but as a long time reader of John Sandford's Prey and Virgil Flowers novels, I feel as though I've driven those roads, experienced that weather, seen those lakes, in winter, spring, summer and fall. The same can be said for Irish author Tana French, who paints such a vivid picture of Dublin that the city becomes another complex character in her page-turning mysteries. And let's not forget Agatha Christie, the queen of setting the setting.
Reading is the best teacher. When I started writing Skeletons in the Attic, I wanted to create a fictional town that readers could believe in. It was also important that my protagonist, Calamity (Callie) Barnstable, be a fish out of water. I decided to make Callie a city girl — Toronto, in her case — forced to move to Marketville, which she considers "a commuter community about an hour north of Toronto, the sort of town where families with two kids, a collie, and a cat moved to looking for a bigger house, a better school, and soccer fields."
Callie's decision to move to suburbia isn't voluntary: While she isn't surprised to learn that she is the sole beneficiary of her late father's estate — she's the only child of two only children — and she hasn't seen her mother since she walked out on Valentines Day, 1980, when Callie was just six years old. What does surprise her is that she's inheriting a house in Marketville — a house she didn't know existed — on the condition she move into the house and find out who murdered her mother. A mother she thought had left with the milkman or some male equivalent.
Having sorted out my basic premise, the next step was to allow the reader to see Callie's inheritance from her eyes:
Snapdragon Circle was a cul-de-sac within an enclave of 1970s bungalows, split-levels, and semis. The occasional two-story home dotted an otherwise predictable suburban landscape, although closer inspection revealed upper level additions to the original structures.
Every road within the subdivision had been named after a provincial wildflower, starting with the central artery of Trillium Way and branching out to symmetrical side streets with names like Day Lily Drive, Lady's Slipper Lane, and Coneflower Crescent.
Most of the homes appeared to be well cared for, the lawns lush and green, the windows gleaming. Sixteen Snapdragon Circle, a yellow brick bungalow with a badly sagging carport, was the one notable exception. The roof had been patched in a half dozen places with little attention paid to attempting a match in the color of the shingles. The windows were caked with years of dirt and grit, and quite possibly, a few eggs from Halloweens past.
To say the house needed a little bit of TLC was putting a gloss on things. What this house needed was a good coat of fire.
In the next chapter, the reader experiences Callie's first impression of the inside of the house:
The inside of Sixteen Snapdragon Circle wasn't much better than the outside. I went around the house, opening the windows to get rid of a musty smell that seemed to infuse every room. Then I went back to the entrance and took stock of my inheritance.
Avocado green and gold linoleum flooring in the hallway carried through to a small eat-in kitchen, the cupboards painted a gloss chocolate brown, the walls sunshine yellow. Harvest gold appliances. A laminate countertop, gold speckles on off-white, a pot ring burned into its scarred surface. A window over the sink overlooked the sagging carport. Welcome back, 1980.
It's when Callie goes into the attic that things really get interesting:
The attic was every bit as creepy as I expected, a windowless, claustrophobic space, the walls and ceiling filled with pink fiberglass insulation, the air smelling faintly of mothballs. Given the padlock, I had expected it to be stockpiled with valuables. It wasn't. There was a large leather steamer trunk that looked like it might be vintage, a newer trunk, bright blue with brass trim, and what appeared to be a picture triple wrapped in bubble wrap.
There was also a coffin, full-sized from what I could gather. I took a deep breath, resisted the urge to bolt out the cubbyhole entry, and inched my way over.
Unlike the attic, there was no lock on the coffin. I almost wished there had been, if only to delay the inevitable. I took another deep breath, put on the yellow rubber kitchen gloves I'd brought with me — I'd watched enough episodes of CSI to know the importance of not leaving fingerprints — bent down, and gingerly lifted the lid. It was lighter than I expected, but that didn't stop me from dropping it abruptly. The thump echoed in the room, scaring me more than I could have thought possible.
Because what I saw lying against the cream-colored satin wasn't a dead, decaying body, but a skeleton. One that looked decidedly human.
I had been ready to uncover some skeletons in the closet. A skeleton in the attic was another matter entirely.
If I've done my job as a writer, if I've created a believable setting, then you'll want to read on and find out what happens next.
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In her less mysterious pursuits, Judy Penz Sheluk works as a freelance writer/editor. She is currently Editor of Home BUILDER Magazine and Senior Editor, New England Antiques Journal. Judy is a member of Sisters in Crime, Crime Writers of Canada, Short Mystery Fiction Society, and International Thriller Writers.
For more information about the author, please visit her website at JudyPenzSheluk.com and her author page on Goodreads, or find her on Facebook and Twitter.
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Skeletons in the Attic by Judy Penz Sheluk
A Marketville Mystery
Publisher: Imajin Books
What goes on behind closed doors doesn’t always stay there…
Calamity (Callie) Barnstable isn't surprised to learn she's the sole beneficiary of her late father's estate, though she is shocked to discover she has inherited a house in the town of Marketville — a house she didn't know existed. However, there are conditions attached to Callie's inheritance: she must move to Marketville, live in the house, and solve her mother's murder.
Callie's not keen on dredging up a thirty-year-old mystery, but if she doesn't do it, there's a scheming psychic named Misty Rivers who is more than happy to expose the Barnstable family secrets. Determined to thwart Misty and fulfill her father's wishes, Callie accepts the challenge. But is she ready to face the skeletons hidden in the attic?
— Skeletons in the Attic by Judy Penz Sheluk
