Interviews & Essays
An Interview with Janet Evanovich
Bestselling author Janet Evanovich gets off to a quick start in Metro Girl, and the sizzling South Florida setting is only one of the surprises in store for readers this time out.
The real scorcher is the news that Metro Girl is an exciting detour from Evanovich's beloved Stephanie Plum mystery series. This fast-paced thriller introduces readers to Alexandra Barnaby -- a brainy, brash, big-city gal navigating through mayhem and murder in unfamiliar territory from Daytona to Key West, as she searches for her missing brother. Her venture into the steamy wilds of Florida includes unexpected car chases, NASCAR racing, explosions, and more The story also generates passion when her search merges with handsome, hard-headed local guy Sam Hooker's hunt for his stolen boat…with her wild baby brother as the prime suspect.
Janet Evanovich made a pit stop to tell Ransom Notes readers about this latest lap in her exhilarating writing career:
Ransom Notes: The first thing everyone wants to know is whether you're planning Metro Girl as a stand-alone novel or as the kick-off for a new series?
Janet Evanovich: I actually haven't decided. It was originally meant as a stand-alone, but I had a lot of fun writing the book and I've really become attached to the characters.
RN: Is there anything from your personal experience that inspired Metro Girl?
JE: Two things: The first is that I had such a terrific time doing research in South Florida that I ended up buying a house there! And the second thing is that I've turned into a NASCAR junkie. I love the speed and the noise and the way NASCAR has made the entire production accessible to the fan. I especially love Dale Earnhardt Jr. advertising fried chicken, wearing a hat that says "I eat what tastes good." How could you not love a man who'd wear that hat!
After saying that, I probably should explain quickly that this is not a NASCAR book. The story takes place during the off season and is only about NASCAR in that one of my protagonists is a NASCAR driver. Sam Hooker is NASCAR GUY -- a lovable macho jerk with a lot of hero potential. He'd wear the fried chicken hat in a heartbeat.
RN: What was the biggest difference for you between writing Metro Girl and writing a Stephanie Plum book?
JE: My biggest fear was that after ten "Plums" I wouldn't be able to get out of Stephanie's head. I had a brand-new setting and a great story line -- but, until I started writing, I worried that Alexandra Barnaby would be a Stephanie clone. As it turned out, the two protagonists have such strong and unique personalities that my fear was ungrounded. I loved writing Metro Girl. I loved the exotic Florida setting. I wanted something hot, with attitude and energy...and that's Miami. Plus it meant I had to do lots of research in South Beach! My webmaster daughter and I spent hours there, observing men in thongs and Speedos. Also, I enjoyed writing more of a thriller than anything I've put in a Stephanie Plum story. The stakes in Metro Girl are higher and international. I also really love the two protagonists here. And, while Metro Girl is told from Alexandra Barnaby's point of view, it's a dual-protagonist book, with Sam Hooker getting almost equal time. Of course, as in all my books, readers can expect to find some sex, some pizza, some cussing, some fast-paced action, and some scenes that will make them smile. My goal is always to make sure readers feel good when they finish one of my books.
RN: There's one last thing readers are clamoring to know. Will you be writing more Stephanie Plum books?
JE: Of course! I'm working on No. 11 right now.
Read a Sample Chapter
Metro Girl LPChapter One
Just because I know how to change a guy's oil doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life on my back, staring up his undercarriage. Been there, done that. Okay, so my dad owns a garage. And okay, I have a natural aptitude for rebuilding carburetors. There comes a time in a girl's life when she needs to trade in her mechanic's overalls for a pair of Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Not that I can afford a lot of Manolos, but it's a goal, right?
My name is Alexandra Barnaby, and I worked in my dad's garage in the Canton section of Baltimore all through high school and during summer breaks when I was in college. It's not a big fancy garage, but it holds its own, and my dad has a reputation for being an honest mechanic.
When I was twelve my dad taught me how to use an acetylene torch. After I mastered welding, he gave me some spare parts and our old lawn mower, and I built myself a go-cart. When I was sixteen, I started rebuilding a ten-year-old junker Chevy. I turned it into a fast car. And I raced it in the local stocks for two years.
"And here she comes, folks," the announcer would say. "Barney Barnaby. Number sixteen, the terror of Baltimore County. She's coming up on the eight car. She's going to the inside. Wait a minute, I see flames coming from sixteen. There's a lot of smoke now. Looks like she's blown another engine. Good thing she works in her dad's garage."
So I could build cars, and I could drive cars. I just never got the hang of driving them without destroying them.
"Barney," my dad would say. "I swear you blow those engines just so you can rebuild them."
Maybe on an unconscious level. The brain is a pretty weird thing. What I knew was that on a conscious level, I hated losing. And I lost more races than I won. So, I raced two seasons and packed it in.
My younger brother, Wild Bill, drove, too. He never cared if he won or lost. He just liked to drive fast and scratch his balls with the rest of the guys. Bill was voted Most Popular of his senior class and also Least Likely to Succeed.
The class's expectation for Bill's success was a reflection of Bill's philosophy of life. If work was any fun, it would be called play. I've always been the serious kid, and Bill's always been the kid who knew how to have a good time. Two years ago, Bill said good-bye Baltimore and hello Miami. He liked the lazy hot sun, the open water, and the girls in bikinis.
Two days ago, Bill disappeared off the face of the earth. And he did it while I was talking to him. He woke me up with a phone call in the middle of the night.
"Barney," Bill yelled over the phone line. "I have to leave Miami for a while. Tell Mom I'm okay."
I squinted at my bedside clock. Two AM. Not late for Bill who spent a lot of time in South Beach bars. Real late for me who worked nine to five and went to bed at ten.
"What's that noise?" I asked him. "I can hardly hear you."
"Boat engine. Listen, I don't want you to worry if you don't hear from me. And if some guys show up looking for me, don't tell them anything. Unless it's Sam Hooker. Tell Sam Hooker he can kiss my exhaust pipe."
"Guys? What guys? And what do you mean, don't tell them anything?"
"I have to go. I have to ... oh shit."
I heard a woman scream in the background, and the line went dead.
Baltimore is cold in January. The wind whips in from the harbor and slices up the side streets, citywide. We get a couple snowstorms each year and some freezing rain, but mostly we get bone-chilling gray gloom. In the midst of the gray gloom, pots of chili bubble on stoves, beer flows like water, sausages are stuffed into hard rolls, and doughnuts are a necessity to survival.
Miami, it turns out, is hot in January. I'd taken the midday flight out of BWI, arriving in Miami midafternoon. When I left home I was wrapped in a quilted down-filled coat, cashmere Burberry scarf, fleece-lined boots, and heavy-duty shearling mittens. Perfect for Baltimore. Not great for Miami. On arrival, I'd crammed the scarf and mittens into the mediumsize duffel bag that hung from my shoulder, wrapped my coat around the duffel bag handle, and went in search of the taxi stand. Sweat was soaking into my Victoria's Secret Miracle Bra, my hair was plastered to my forehead, and I was sucking in air that felt like hot soup.
I'm thirty years old now. Average height and average build. I'm not movie-star gorgeous, but I'm okay. My hair is naturally mousy brown, but I started bleaching it blond when I decided to stop being a grease monkey. It's currently platinum and cut in a medium-length shaggy kind of style that I can punk up with paste if the occasion arises. I have blue eyes, a mouth that's a little too big for my face, and a perfect nose inherited from my Grandma Jean.
My parents took Bill and me to Disney World when I was nine. That's the extent of my in-the-flesh Florida experience. The rest of my Florida knowledge consists mainly of horrific bug stories from my mom's friend Elsie Duchen. Elsie winters in Ocala with her daughter. Elsie swears there are cockroaches as big as cows in Florida. And she says they can fly. I'm here to tell you, if I see a cow-size cockroach fly by, I'm gone ...
Metro Girl LP. Copyright © by Janet Evanovich. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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