It's Showtime!

By Deborah Sharp

They say the neon lights are bright, on Broadway -- Lou Rawls

The lights at the Shrine Club in Camden County, N.C., may not shine Broadway bright. But I still wish I'd been there when the curtain went up on a benefit play adapted from my wedding-themed mystery, Mama Gets Hitched.

Oh, sure, they did switch the setting from my fictional slice of Florida to North Carolina. And the production, made up mostly of high school students, did encounter a couple of casting glitches. Until shortly before showtime, the gal who wound up playing the Southern belle Mama character was cast as a tough-but-sexy female detective from New Jersey. When the original actress took sick, the last minute stand-in subtracted the Jersey 'tude, added some honey to her accent, stuck the script inside the pages of a prop wedding magazine, and became Mama. In the play, as in my book, the Mama character is taking a fifth stab at tying the sacred knot of matrimony when things go murderously awry.

And what about the role of the sexy female cop? That was filled by a male thespian wearing a woman's wig. Hey, the show must go on!

In the cast photo pictured, Adelle Drahos, at center, is a radiant Mama in a horrifyingly tacky pink dress. Jesse Mitchell is the the law-and-order ''lady,'' crouching at far left, with the buff arms and fetching black wig.

I never thought much would come of it almost a year ago when Adelle contacted me through my web site and asked about adapting my book into a play. It was for a good cause -- the Camden County Educational Foundation. A number of talented kids would get the chance to be involved from Camden High, which had lost its drama teacher and had no school production planned. And it would be a one-time event, during the weekend of March 23-25.

I said yes.

The local newspaper ran an article before the event. You can see a link here.


At the top left of the newspaper's web page, scroll through a few rehearsal pictures if you'd like. I'm still wondering about the one where a male character seems to be opening a fancy gift bag with some leopard-print ladies panties inside.

The area independent bookstore, Page After Page in Elizabeth City, N.C., sold autographed copies of Mama Gets Hitched, which is the third book in my Mace Bauer Mystery Series. The store nicely donated a portion of the proceeds from the book sales. The play itself brought in about $4,000 for the educational foundation -- money that will be used for grants for teachers in the Camden County schools.

At one of the first author signings I ever attended, a friend who writes kids' books invited some youngsters up to perform a scene from her latest work. I thought it was such a great idea that last fall when my fourth book, Mama Sees Stars, came out, I stole it. (To writer-pal Dorian Cirrone: I apologize for my thieving ways!) At a red carpet launch party for the movie-themed mystery, a group of local actors performed a short scene from the book. It's such a rush hearing words you wrote come out of the mouth of a living, breathing character. On the page is one thing. In the flesh, something else entirely.

That's why I wish I'd been there last month to see this talented bunch of young people mount their production of Mama Gets Hitched. Like Ethel Merman said, There's No Business Like Show Business -- even off-off-off Broadway. Besides, it would have been a hoot and a half to hear the honking Bronx accent of Mama's newly betrothed, ''Big Sal'' Provenza, on a stage in down-south North Carolina.

How about you? Have you ever heard your words read out loud in a play? Have you ever written or performed in a play?









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Being Mama

By Deborah Sharp

I knew I’d crossed a line when I spent two hours in the wedding aisle of a fabric store, examining tulle.

Formerly known to me as ''that floaty stuff ballerinas wear,'' the fabric has assumed an unnatural importance of late. My latest mystery novel is set around a wedding. So, I have immersed myself in all things nuptial.

''Which color do you think Mama would like for her bouquet?'' I asked my husband.

He looked at several spools of orange ribbon I’d bought, from sherbet-shaded to Halloween pumpkin. And then he looked at me. He spoke carefully.

''You do know ‘Mama’ is a fictional character, right?''

''What’s your point?'' I asked.

I think he’s beginning to resent the fact that this pretend wedding for a woman who doesn’t exist is getting more of my attention than our own wedding did, 21 years ago.

My own wedding was simple, a backyard affair. But the Mama character defines over-the-top, complete with a Pomeranian as ring-bearer, Scarlett O'Hara bridesmaid gowns, and a ''Gone With the Wind'' themed wedding. A friend made a suitably tacky, Mama-style veil for me to wear at book signings. It looks like a dropping of fake flowers and tulle that some huge, prehistoric wedding bird plopped on the top of my head.

(You can get a glimpse of The Veil in a clip from a book event that ran during my recent interview on the Today Show. Click here to watch. )

I never made favors for OUR wedding. But for MAMA GETS HITCHED, I stuffed more than a hundred teeny-tiny gift bags, tying and curling the ends of each pastel ribbon. The intent of the bags: To build anticipation last spring among mystery fans at the Malice Domestic conference for the summer launch of HITCHED. I’ve combed bridal books for the perfect punch to serve, and laminated JUST MARRIED signs for book-store podiums.

Another friend, a judge, offered to appear at one of my signings, dressed in his official black robes.

''I’ll perform the wedding for Mama,'' he said eagerly.

''Great, we'll have a bride's side and a groom's side. We'll get a soloist to do Mama's favorite song . . . ''

Suddenly, I realized there could be a little problem with my failure to distinguish between reality and my fictional character. Technically, I’m Mama, since she lives inside my head. Legally, I’m already married. If my husband is miffed about the energy I’m devoting to Mama’s wedding, how will he feel when I come home with her groom?

Alas, I had to turn down the judge’s offer.

Now that I’ve saved myself from bigamy, I’ve got to run. I’m headed to the bakery to pick out Mama’s wedding cake.

How about you? Writers, what crazy thing have you done for your fictional character? Readers, what makes you blur the line between fiction and reality?

Party Hardy!

By Deborah Sharp

I don't know what I was imagining might happen when I handed over my microphone to a drunk reveler on Fort Lauderdale Beach.

You know Fort Lauderdale, right? Famous for raucous Spring Breaks, wet T-shirt contests, and chug-a-lug nights at the beachfront Elbo Room. Literary readings? Not so much.

Okay, I was supposed to be reading from my latest ''Mama'' book, so not exactly literary ... but still. I'm not sure what my friendly local bookseller was thinking (or drinking). She brought a karaoke machine, like the kind kids at PJ parties play with, to the corner of A1A and Las Olas Boulevard and asked me to read from Mama Gets Hitched.

Harleys rumbled past. Drunks stumbled up. Bar babes peddled shots from bandoliers around their bikini-clad bodies. And, did I mention the wind was whipping off the Atlantic at gale force?

A group of women dressed for the nightclubs tottered past in high heels. "Oh, look how cute you are, trying to read out here!'' one girl said. "That's so pitiful.''

At least she bought a book, one of the very few I sold that night before the skies opened up and poured rain. And, no, I'm not above taking advantage of a pity purchase.

I thought I could talk the drunk guy into buying a book, too. But he got ugly when I wrestled back the mic after he started an impromptu, X-rated rap. Come to think of it, maybe that would have drawn an audience.

The whole experience got me thinking about the worst spots I've done signings. Here are my Top (Bottom?) Three:

1. Sitting on a hay bale in 100-degree heat right next to the cattle chute at a rodeo in Okeechobee, Fla. It was so hot, my give-away Hershey's kisses oozed out of their silver wrappers. They looked like miniature versions of the cow patties that spackled the ground behind me. I learned a lesson: Hard candy trumps chocolate in Florida's summer swelter.

2. Standing in front of a table at a chain bookstore, on launch day for the latest installment in Stephanie Meyer's saga. Fans of vampire romance elbowed past me to get to a humongous Twilight display to select their books, posters, coasters, calendars, T-shirts, coffee mugs ... whatever. Can you say, ''Humbling?''

3. And now, of course, the bar-packed, loud-music-blaring, motorcycle-revving, drunks-lurching ''Strip'' along Fort Lauderdale Beach. After my throat recovers from trying to holler out my prose, maybe next I'll try a NASCAR track or monster truck rally.

What's the worst place you can imagine for a book reading?

Do Me a Favor?

By Deborah Sharp

I just spent the last four hours creating wedding favors to tout the fictional fete in MAMA GETS HITCHED. Crazy, right? Favors for a bride who doesn't really exist, to mark a wedding that will never really happen.

Funny thing is, I am the anti-crafter; the opposite of a creative do-it-yourself type. I didn't even do favors for my OWN wedding (although I do remember peeling lots of shrimp.) Now, here I am stuffing little bags and tying colorful ribbons to hand out at the Malice Domestic conference as keepsakes -- or at least reminders. The idea: That the mystery readers who attend will find the little bags so clever they'll be dying to read the next Mama book. It comes out July 1, by the way. Early birds can order it here.

I don't know why I think this will work. My desk is chock-a-block with freebies handed out by my fellow authors at various conferences: Note pads, seed packets, pens, pencils, calendars, bookmarks, chocolates (Okay, the chocolates are actually gone), paperweights, magnets, lapel pins, bumper stickers, postcards. I can't honestly say I've ever bought a book because someone handed me a cool promo item. I buy a book for the same reasons everyone else does: Because the cover grabbed me, and the first line hooked me; because someone I trust recommended it; or because I know and like the author. All the free pens in the world won't change that.

Of course, none of this means chocolate won't sway me. Go ahead, try me.

I wrote this for our blog ahead of time, knowing I'd be at Malice today and too busy to post. About now, I'm likely handing out my little bags as I make the circuit with Sue Ann Jaffarian, my friend and fellow Midnight Ink author. We're paired up for a Friday morning event called Malice Go Round. It's like speed-dating for authors. Readers fill tables for eight inside a giant hall. Forty authors get two minutes a piece at each table to pitch and woo.

Maybe I should have brought chocolates.

How about you? Do you think promo items move books? Readers, what's the coolest promo you've ever gotten? Authors, what's the best thing you've handed out?

Wedding Wrongs

By Deborah Sharp


I tied the knot 21 years ago, but I still remember the stress of wedding planning. Even so, the nuptial scene seems a lot nuttier today than it was back then.


I've been researching fun ideas to tie-in to this summer's launch of MAMA GETS HITCHED, the third book in my mystery series. It's opened my eyes to all the ways that weddings can go horribly (and, let's face it: amusingly) awry.


Turns out that getting married in modern times is a nightmare, y'all. And just like everything else in life today, the Internet is there to collect and catalog an infinite supply of weddings gone wrong. Etiquette Hell. Cakewrecks. TackyWeddings.


And don't get me started on YouTube. Sure, you'll see those cute, dancing-down-the-aisle clips, with good-looking, high-stepping bridal parties and guests. But those clips are outnumbered by far by bridesmaid catfights, bridezilla meltdowns, and drunken groom swear fests.


Lordy, lordy, people. It's supposed to be a Special Day. A Blessed Union. Can't we all just behave?

Funny thing is, I thought I'd gone over-the-top tacky writing the fifth trip down the aisle for my Mama character: A Gone with the Wind theme at the VFW hall, bridesmaids wearing five pounds of ruffles AND holding parasols, and a ring-bearing Pomeranian in a satin vest and top hat. Turns out I could have gone a WHOLE lot tackier, and still not been as tasteless as the ceremonies captured at White Trash Weddings.


Looks like Mama will have to trip down the aisle for Sacred Union No. 6, just so I can work into the wedding party a Rottweiler in a Rebel flag neckerchief and bridesmaids wearing camouflage.


How about you? Care to share any details from tacky weddings in your past? Horrible bridesmaid dresses? Drunken toasts by the best man? Tipsy bride nearly taking a tumble off the dock into the New River? (No, wait: That was MY wedding ...)