On Tuesday, September 10, 2019, the 2nd book in my RJ Franklin Mystery Series will release from Camel Press. If you’ve read my blogs, Facebook or talked to me, you may know that my RJ Franklin Mystery Series is near and dear to my heart. There are a lot of reasons for this, but while I anxiously await the newest release, I decided to share a bit about why this series is so important to me.
The RJ Franklin Mystery Series is a diverse mystery which features an African American detective, and his godmother, Mama B. When I first got the idea to write a mystery, I struggled a bit. Writing mysteries would probably be easy for people who were connected to law enforcement (former police officers, FBI, lawyers, etc.). I wasn’t connected to any of those and didn’t have a clue. In fact, the only things I knew about law enforcement were things I learned from reading cozy mysteries and watching NCIS. I knew I could get around this deficiency (a bit) by writing cozies since these featured amateur sleuths rather than real professionals. However, the pragmatist in me, required that there needed to be a realistic reason for the amateur to be involved. So, I got the idea of pairing a police officer with an amateur sleuth.
I’d heard the old saying, “write what you know,” so many times. One day, I got a revelation. I didn’t know anything about law enforcement or solving murder mysteries. However, I knew what it was like to be an African American in a small, Midwestern city. I knew what it was like growing up, “in the church,” singing in the choir and eating soul food. I knew that setting because it was my life. I was also blessed to have known a “Mama B.” My Mama B was named Mrs. Ella Bethany. She was my adopted godmother. She lived in an alley behind the Southeast-side recreation center. She loved to cook and feed people. She liked to sit on her front porch and it seemed to me that everyone in the city stopped by her house, sat on the porch and drank tea and talked. In the warm summer months as a child, I remember my mother saying, “I’m bored. Let’s ride over to Miss Ella’s house and sit on the porch.” Sister Bethany knew all of the news and I marveled at the way she would manage my mother. Warned before we left home, my mother prohibited my sister and I from eating at other people’s houses. This was one of her rules (she felt it was rude or showed bad manners). Sister Bethany would say, “I know your mama told you two not to eat, but I made a sweet potato pie. Now, y’all get up and get yourself a slice.” We would glance at my mother who merely sighed and gave us a slight nod indicating it was okay. Then, my sister and I raced inside to the kitchen. If my parents went out of town, there were very few people where we were allowed to stay overnight. However, Sister Bethany’s house, was one of them. My mom would start the request with, “are you going to be in town?” Sister Bethany’s response was always the same. “Of course, they can stay here.” When my parents returned, they heard about trips we took to Gary, Indiana to visit her sister (we called her T.T.) or wherever she was going. My mom would say, “You should have told me you were going out of town.” Her response was, “Why? I ain’t going no place they can’t come.”
When I decided to write a mystery, I wanted to include the people, the food, the sounds, and places from my childhood. My sister, people from my church and Sister Bethany’s daughter, recognize the references in the books. They remember the summers spent on the front porch. They remember that despite the fact that her house was in the middle of the hood, Sister Bethany never locked her doors. They remember that hoodlums, gang bangers, police, homeless people or elected officials might all be found on her porch sipping tea and getting a bite to eat. Did I mention she liked to feed people?
Travellin’ Shoes, the first book in the series, was my thesis project for my MFA at Seton Hill University. It’s also the reason I almost didn’t graduate. One of my mentors, an ex-New York City policeman, said my detectives acted like “teenage school girls.” He said my detectives needed to swear and required that I make several modifications from the original (including removing all laughter and romantic elements). That’s one reason the version of my thesis on record at the library is vastly different from the published book. Travellin’ Shoes was rejected by practically every agent and publisher I sent it to. I wrote another series, which eventually got published (Mystery Bookshop) but still, I couldn’t find anyone interested in Travellin’ Shoes. I was frustrated and ready to give up when I decided to give it one last try. That’s when I sent the manuscript to Camel Press. So, when Travellin’ Shoes received a starred review from Library Journal, I cried. 
When it was selected as a finalist in two categories in the Next Generation Independent Book Awards, I cried again. My RJ Franklin Mystery Series may not hit the New York Times Best Seller List, nor is it likely to win any of the traditional mystery awards (Agatha, Anthony or Edgar). However, the fact that this book is out in world means more to me than anyone will ever know.
Ella Bethany and my mom have both passed on and neither lived to see the publication of this series. The RJ Franklin Mystery Series isn’t just a mystery with clues and red herrings. This series is my way of honoring my culture and the people who were most important in helping me become the person I am today. This is my way of honoring my godmother and ensuring that she lives on in the pages of my books.
