Enter a zip code
(Mass Market Paperback)
Until her paper, the BALTIMORE STAR, crashed and burned, Tess Monaghan was a damn good reporter who knew her hometown intimatelyfrom historic Fort McHenry to the crumbling projects of Cherry Hill. Now gainfully unemployed at twenty-nine, she's willing to take any freelance job to pay the rentincluding a bit of unorthodox snooping for her rowing buddy, Darryl "Rock" Paxton.
In a city where someone is murdered almost everyday, attorney Michael Abramowitz's death should be just another statistic. But the slain lawyer's notorietyand his noontime trysts with Rock's fianceemake the case front page news...and points to Rock as the likely murderer. But trying to prove her friend's innocence couls prove costly to Tessand add her name to that infamous ever-growing list.
Laura Lippman deserves to be a big star.
More Reviews and RecommendationsWell known for her popular series of mysteries starring the fearless Tess Monoghan, Laura Lippman has won every major mystery award, from the Anthony to the Agatha.
More About the AuthorReader Rating:
See Detailed Ratings
November 04, 2002: I read a review of Baltimore Blues on this web site by a lady named Beth (dated Aug 4th 1999) and found 5 different titles in the Tess Monaghan series in one of the bookstores here in Paris. Never having heard of Laura Lippman before, even though I am an avid reader of crime fiction, I decided to buy the lot. I AM SO GLAD I DID ! Wow, what a writer! All the characters are well portrayed, especially Esskay, the greyhound with the bad breath, who appears first in Charm City ! If anyone is looking for a "new name" (even though the first in the series appeared 3/4 years ago) start here. Thank you, Beth, for your review AND thank you Laura for such enjoyable, entertaining, gripping writing.

Name:
Laura Lippman
Current Home:
Baltimore, Maryland
Date of Birth:
January 31, 1959
Place of Birth:
Atlanta, Georgia
Education:
B.S., Medill School of Journalism, Northwestern University, 1981
Awards:
Edgar and Shamus awards for Charm City, 1997; Agatha and Anthony awards for Butchers Hill, 1998; Anthony and Shamus awards for Big Trouble, 1999
Laura Lippman was a reporter for 20 years, including 12 years at The (Baltimore) Sun. She began writing novels while working fulltime and published seven books about "accidental PI" Tess Monaghan before leaving daily journalism in 2001. Her work has been awarded the Edgar ®, the Anthony, the Agatha, the Shamus, the Nero Wolfe, Gumshoe, and Barry awards. She also has been nominated for other prizes in the crime fiction field, including the Hammett and the Macavity. She was the first-ever recipient of the Mayor's Prize for Literary Excellence and the first genre writer recognized as Author of the Year by the Maryland Library Association.
Ms. Lippman grew up in Baltimore and attended city schools through ninth grade. After graduating from Wilde Lake High School in Columbia, Md., Ms. Lippman attended Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism. Her other newspaper jobs included the Waco Tribune-Herald and the San Antonio Light.
Ms. Lippman returned to Baltimore in 1989 and has lived there since.
Biography from author's website.
In our interview, Lippman shared some fun and fascinating facts about herself:
"I can do an imitation of Ethel Merman singing ‘Satisfaction.'"
"I'm not a Baltimore native -- I arrived here about six years too late for that. But I love the fact that I've convinced the world that I am."
"Like my character, Tess Monaghan, I used to row. Unlike her, I was very, very bad at it."
"I've written eight books in my series -- one not yet published -- and a stand-alone crime novel, but my subject is always, on some level, Baltimore.
It's a problem-place, neither northern nor southern, somewhat addicted to nostalgia, yet amnesiac about the more dicey parts of its past. I used an epigraph from H. L. Mencken in one of my books: ‘A Baltimorean is not merely John Doe, an isolated individual of Homo sapiens, like every other John Doe. He is a John Doe of a certain place -- of Baltimore, of a definite home in Baltimore.' I am a person of a certain place, and that place happens to be Baltimore."
What was the book that most influenced your life or your career as a writer -- and why?
It wasn't so much a book as a single line in a book -- the last line of Eudora Welty's One Writer's Beginnings. She writes: "A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within."
I, too, had led a fairly sheltered life at the time I read this. But Welty's words persuaded me that this was an obstacle that could be overcome; if I worked hard to develop my empathy and curiosity, then no world, no topic would be off-limits to me. Yes, writers should write what they know about --but knowledge need not end with autobiography. All I had to do was venture out into the world and see things. My newspaper career provided just the window on the world I needed.
Welty, by the way, worked as a photographer as part of a WPA project in the 1930s. That's not mentioned in her memoir, but the detail seems relevant to me.
What are your ten favorite books, and what makes them special to you?
What are some of your favorite films, and what makes them unforgettable to you?
What types of music do you like? Is there any particular kind you like to listen to when you're writing?
I listen to practically everything -- jazz (primarily the great vocalists doing standards), traditional country and bluegrass, the usual suspects in rock and roll, opera, and show tunes. I don't listen to music when I write because it would be wasted: when I'm working hard, I don't hear anything, even construction on the street outside.
If you had a book club, what would it be reading -- and why?
One of the great books that I haven't tackled -- Ulysses comes to mind -- or history, perhaps Toynbee. The gaps in my knowledge are alarming.
What are your favorite kinds of books to give -- and get -- as gifts?
Books that are meaningful to the giver.
Do you have any special writing rituals? For example, what do you have on your desk when you're writing?
My desk includes a Colts mini-helmet signed by Johnny Unitas, a Brooks Robinson baseball card and a small army of "Strong Women" -- a phalanx of Pez containers led by Wonder Woman, whose entourage also includes a Roberto Clemente bobblehead and a pair of wind-up sumo wrestlers purchased in the company of one of my oldest and best friends 20 years ago. There are also objects that would be familiar to careful readers of the Tess Monaghan series, most notably an old blue-glass Planters peanut container, which I used for receipts.
Many writers are hardly "overnight success" stories. How long did it take for you to get where you are today? Any rejection-slip horror stories or inspirational anecdotes?
I've been at this about a decade and I think I've been lucky for the most part. The toughest thing for me was finding an agent, a search that took almost a year. My book had already been accepted by the time the rejections started rolling in, so I could philosophical about those.
What tips or advice do you have for writers still looking to be discovered?
To focus their energies on writing, as opposed to publishing. In fact, it helps if you can split your consciousness, use two different parts of your brain, because the two things don't overlap as much as you might think. The writer part of you must never think about what is trendy, or what might sell, or what might hit the zeitgeist bulls-eye. You really shouldn't even think about what readers want, except within the context of the story you've created. If you're going to write in a genre, you can't cheat the genre, or disdain it. Readers may not know what your precise goal is in writing a book, but they'll know if you cheat.
You're building something complicated and, one hopes, even beautiful. Outside voices, outside agendas, make that task impossible. You're not writing to emulate some other writers' material success or lifestyle. You're writing in hopes of stirring in someone else what you felt when you read a seminal book.
Until her paper, the Baltimore Star, crashed and burned, Tess Monaghan was a damn good reporter who knew her hometown intimately -- from historic Fort McHenry to the crumbling projects of Cherry Hill. Now gainfully unemployed at twenty-nine, she's willing to take any freelance job to pay the rent -- including a bit of unorthodox snooping for her rowing buddy, Darryl "Rock" Paxton.
In a city where someone is murdered almost everyday, attorney Michael Abramowitz's death should be just another statistic. But the slain lawyer's notoriety -- and his noontime trysts with Rock's fiancee -- make the case front page news...and points to Rock as the likely murderer. But trying to prove her friend's innocence couls prove costly to Tess -- and add her name to that infamous ever-growing list.
Laura Lippman deserves to be a big star.
Downsized ex-reporter Tess Monaghan spends her days working part-time at the bookstore owned by sexy Aunt Kitty and trying not to fall into the disgustingly polluted Patapsco from her city-owned boat. When rowing buddy Rocky pays her what looks like a fortune to follow his fianc, the trail leads to murder with Rocky the prime suspect. "Uneven" is the word for this first novel-hometown and newspaper backgrounds are alive from page one, but characters are cartoons until chapter 15 (out of 30) when Tess investigates the victim. Suddenly the story perks up to a believable pageturner. If Lippman continues the promise of the second half of Baltimore Blues while adhering to advice attributed to Elmore Leonard to cut out the parts people won't read, mystery fans can anticipate an engrossing series. (Feb.)
Loading...On the last night of August, Tess Monaghan went to the drugstore and bought a composition book-one with a black and-white marble cover. She had done this every fall since she was six and saw no reason to change, despite the differences wrought by twenty-three years. Never mind that she had a computer with a memory capable of keeping anything she might want to record. Never mind that she had to go to Rite Aid because Weinstein's Drugs had long ago been run into the ground by her grandfather. Never mind that she was no longer a student, no longer had a job, and summer's end held little relevance for her. Tess believed in routines and rituals. So she bought a composition book for $1.69, took it home, and opened it to the first page, where she wrote:
Goals for Autumn:
1. Bench press 120 pounds.
2. Run a 7-minute mile.
3. Read Don Quixote.
4. Find a job, etc.
She sat at her desk and looked at what she had written. The first two items were within teach, although it would take work: She could do up to ten reps at a hundred pounds and run four miles in thirty minutes. Don Quixote had defeated her before, but she felt ready for it this fall.
Number 4 was more problematic. For one thing it would require figuring out what kind of job she wanted, a dilemma that had been perplexing her for two years, ever since Baltimore's penultimate newspaper, the Star, had folded, and its ultimate paper, the Beacon-Light, had not hired her.
Tess slapped the notebook closed, filed it on a shelf with twenty-two others-all blank except for the first page-set her alarm, and was asleep in five minutes. It was the eve ofthe first day of school, time for the city to throw off its August doldrums and move briskly toward fall. Maybe it could carry Tess with it.
The alarm went off seven hours later, at 5:15 A.M. She dressed quickly and ran to her car, sniffing the breeze to see if fall might be early this year. The air was depressingly thick and syrupy, indifferent to Tess's expectations. Her eleven year-old Toyota, the most dependable thing in her life, turned over instantly. "Thank you, precious," she said, patting the dashboard, then heading off through downtown's deserted streets.
On the other side of the harbor, the boat house was dark. It often was at 5:30, for the attendant did not find minimum wage incentive enough to leave his bed and arrive in Cherry Hill before first light. The neighborhood, a grim place at any time of day, had long ago been stripped of its fruit trees. And though its gentle slopes offered a sweeping view of Baltimore's harbor and skyline, no one came to Cherry Hill for the views.
Fortunately Tess had her own boat house key, as did most of the diehard rowers. She let herself in, stashed her key ring in locker in the ladies' dressing room, then ran downstairs and grabbed her oars, anxious to be on the water before the college students arrived. She didn't like being lumped in with what she thought of as the J. Crew crews, callow youths with hoarse chatter of tests they had aced and kegs they had tapped. But she also felt out of place among the Baltimore Rowing Club's efficient grown-ups, professionals who rushed from morning practice to jobs, real ones, at hospitals and research labs, law firms and brokerage houses.
"Watch my line, girlie," a crabber called out, his voice thick in the humid morning air.
"I see it," she said, balancing an Alden Ocean Shell above her head as she threaded her way down the dock and the crabbers' gauntlet of string, chicken necks, and bushel baskets. The crabbers, Cherry Hill residents supplementing their government checks with the Patapsco's bounty, were having a good morning, even if much of their catch was illegal- pregnant females, crabs less than five inches across. Tess wouldn't tell. She didn't care. She didn't eat anything from the local waters.
At least the city-owned Alden was easy to launch. The sun was still lurking just beyond the Francis Scott Key Bridge when Tess pushed off in the choppy water and started for Fort McHenry. Almost reflexively, she hummed "The Star Spangled Banner." Oh say can you see? She would catch herself, stop, then unconsciously start again; after all, she was rowing toward the anthem's birthplace. And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air. . .
loading...
loading...
loading...
Hear our exclusive audio interview with Laura Lippman (12:33).
Terms of Use, Copyright, and Privacy Policy
© 1997-2008 Barnesandnoble.com llc