Drawing on Family Memories to Write Fiction
By Paula Charles

When I tell people that my grandmother was the inspiration for Dawna Carpenter, they’re always curious to know more. Is Dawna exactly like your grandmother? The answer is no.

Shortly before I sat down to write Hammers and Homicide, I had completed a four-week workshop at a local genealogical society that was about writing family stories. That workshop was the catalyst that gave me the desire to try my hand at fiction. Because I was in the telling-family-stories mode, when I thought about who my protagonist would be, my grandma immediately came to mind.

Grandma owned and operated the hardware store in the small town where I grew up. I imagined her able to solve mysteries using her sharp wits, her polite smile, and the fact that she knew everyone in town. Who better to be a quirky, small-town sleuth?

Then I thought about my hometown, fictionalizing it and giving it a different name so that I could have my way with it while writing. With a fictionalized version, things can be a little more fluid than if I had tried to use the real place. I can expand downtown, adding more shops and historic buildings. I can double the population, which still leaves it a small town in anybody’s standards. But I can also draw on the wonderful amenities of the real-life town and the area. My fondest memories are in that town and they make for fun fiction!

Dawna Carpenter, the feisty widowed sleuth, may have started out as my grandmother but she quickly became her own person. The two do share a few traits, like both Dawna and Grandma’s favorite exclamation—Good Night! Dawna’s a terrible cook and Grandma, sorry to say, wasn’t great at it either.

Dawna’s house is based on the house my mom grew up in and where I spent many happy childhood days playing with my siblings and cousins. The scenes in the house are some of my favorite to write, because they bring back all those great memories.

I like to plant “Easter eggs” in my books for family and friends to find, drawing on funny moments, sayings, and names they will recognize as they read. Those additions feel like one more layer of connection to my family history. 

 

 

Hammers and Homicide

(A Hometown Hardware Mystery)
by Paula Charles
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Setting – Oregon
Crooked Lane Books
(January 16, 2024)
Hardcover : 280 pages
 
Perfect for fans of Kate Carlisle and Victoria Gilbert, when a body is found in a hardware store, will Dawna Carpenter’s sleuthing measure up to find the killer?

Recent sexagenarian widow Dawna Carpenter thought running her own hardware store after the death of her husband was hard enough. With her adult daughter, April, moving back into town, and Darlene, the annoying boutique owner next door to her shop poking around, Dawna has her hands full. But when she finds a dead man in the bathroom of her store, with a framing hammer by his side, she’s in way over her head.

The victim, Warren Highcastle, was a land developer who was looking to purchase the old theater in town to build a new hotel. Dawna and April, worried about the implications of the crime scene

at the hardware store, put themselves on the case. They soon learn that Warren had made quite a few enemies in his short amount of time in town. As the suspect list starts growing, so too do the threats against Dawna and April. Can Dawna and April nail the killer before they strike again?

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Excerpt from Hammers and Homicide by Paula Charles

I ended the call then reached into the cupboard for a glass and filled it with infused cucumber water from a pitcher in the refrigerator.

“See her where?” April filled another glass with cucumber water. “What’s going on?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Join the Women’s Service Club, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

I’d been trying to get April to join the organization ever since she’d taken over the decorating and furniture restoration side of my business, but so far, she’d refused.

“Whatever, Mom. I’m not ready to wear polyester pants and go to a meddling women’s meeting.” My daughter rolled her eyes and tapped her wrist like she was checking a watch. “At least not for another…oh, let’s see…twenty years.”

I threw my hands in the air and looked down at the pink-and-white striped T-shirt, cotton shorts, and denim shoes I wore. “Do you see polyester pants here? Don’t think so, missy.”

“No, but your meddling is showing. Better get it tucked back in.”

The two of us cracked up like a pair of cackling hens.

“Anyway, Evonne called an emergency meeting tonight. Without a feasible buyer for The Emery, we need to regroup and double our efforts to save the theater for Pine Bluff.”

“See? I knew I wouldn’t have to join your stuffy old ladies club to get the scoop. You can’t keep from talking about it.” April grinned. “But, seriously, it’s a good idea. What time’s your meeting?”

“Seven. Why? Are you coming with me?”

“Nope, not going with you. Will you stop, please?”

I laughed. “Never.”

“I think I’m going to head to the workshop and finish the dresser I’ve been working on. Maybe I’ll work until your meeting is over. It should give me a few hours to paint.”

Workshop was an overreaching word for the storage unit where April refinished and stored the pieces of furniture that were the heart of her business, Carriage House Designs.

“Do you think it’s wise to be there alone right now? You could stay here and bake those cupcakes you promised J.T.”

“It’s too hot to bake. I’ll do it tomorrow morning while it’s still cool. I’ll be as safe at my workshop as I’d be here by myself. Don’t worry. I’ll text J.T. to let him know where I’m at, okay? You need to do the same thing when you leave the house, and then text me when you’re heading back home from your meeting. Plus drive your Jeep. No walking tonight.”

“Deal, bossy cow.”

April and I pinky swore. There was no going back on our deal now. With a pinky swear, it was completely unbreakable.

“The meeting isn’t for several more hours, though. I have all afternoon to kill. Think I’ll turn on the air-conditioning unit in the sunroom and read for a bit after I start a load of laundry. It’s too hot to work in the garden right now.”

“Sounds perfect. And don’t say kill.” April glowered at me in jest before she turned to head outside.

I grabbed the dishtowel hanging on the stove doorhandle and snapped my daughter on the rear end before she made it outside.

“Oh, lady, you’re going to be mighty sorry you did that.” April let the screen door bang behind her for good measure. “Lock the door,” she called over her shoulder. 

When Paula Charles isn’t writing under the towering trees of the Pacific Northwest, she can be found in the garden with her hands in the dirt or sitting on her front porch with a good book and a glass of iced tea. She has a love for small towns, ghost stories, and pie. Paula lives on a small farm in Southwestern Washington with her patient husband and a handful of furry and feathered critters. Paula also writes cozy mysteries under the pen name of Janna Rollins.

Author Links
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