Sheila Connolly writes three series for Berkley Crime and
publishes single titles on her own. How she accomplishes writing a minimum of
three books per year is anyone’s guess. One series is set in rural
Massachusetts, one in the Irish countryside, and another in downtown
Philadelphia. Her main characters have diverse professions; apple orchard
owner, Irish pub owner, and museum director. Because I’ve interviewed Sheila
before, I know her professional experiences cover a wide range of occupations,
and she has lived and traveled many places. Her newest book, An Early Wake, third in the Cork County
series, was published in February.
Please welcome Sheila Connolly back to
WWK. E. B. Davis
Sheila, you were writing the Orchard and the
Museum mystery series for Berkley. Did you propose the Cork County series to
them? How did you conceive of the project?
Actually
I wrote a book with the same setting way, way back when I first started
writing, in 2001. My father’s father was born in West Cork, not far from the
village of Leap (I use the real village in the series), so I went there to
learn more about the family. I found the pub called Connolly’s the first time I
visited, and the seed was planted. Clearly I got more than I expected!
As I
recall it, my agent pitched it more than once, and it went through a few
mutations along the way. An earlier version of the series had an older
protagonist and a nice romance with the local police inspector. But the more I
read and wrote cozies, the more I thought I wanted to try a younger,
blue-collar protagonist who’s still finding herself, and who gets thrust into
an entirely unfamiliar situation—in a foreign country, no less. But she learned
that there are people looking out for her, more than she ever realized. So we
kept pitching it, and Berkley Prime Crime finally decided it was ready for a
cozy series with a foreign setting, and each of the three books has been a
bestseller.
Old Billy is an interesting secondary character
in the Cork County series. Except for hanging around the pub and drinking a
pint or two, he doesn’t have much of a life, but he is retired and old. When he
was younger, what did Billy do to earn a living?
Funny,
nobody has ever asked me that. West Cork is still a rural area, so most people
were and are farmers, mostly raising cattle (as did my Connolly family—I have a
second cousin there who still does!). When Billy was young, people either
stayed in the area where they were born and worked on the family farm, or they
emigrated and never returned. Billy is one of the ones who stayed. He never
married, and he’s never asked for much. Somewhere along the way, Old Mick
Sullivan, the former owner of the pub, kind of took Billy in and gave him a
place to live at the end of the building, and he’s been there ever since.
As a
character in the book, Billy is the informal historian for the pub and the
local area—he knows everybody, and everybody knows (and trusts) him. He’s also
a kind of a father figure for Maura, something she never had back in Boston. Finally,
he’s a reflection of the value that Irish people still place on family and
community. He’s never going to be shuttled off to a retirement home (if there
is such a thing). He’ll have a place at Sullivan’s as long as he’s able to
manage, and his friends and neighbors will watch out for him.
Although Bridget is an old woman, she seems
to have a flexible mind. Tell our readers about Bridget and her role in
bringing Maura to Ireland.
Maura’s grandmother Nora Sullivan
(yes, related to Old Mick—everyone in any region of Ireland seems to be
related, and they share the same names) is kind of the shadow character in the
series. When she was widowed and left Ireland with her son, the only way she
could see to make a living, she left all things Irish behind, in order to give
her son, and then his daughter Maura, a better life in America. But she never
lost touch with friends and relatives back home. Bridget knew Nora as a young
woman, and now can show Maura a side of her grandmother that Maura never knew. Bridget
and Old Mick were neighbors (and when you say that in rural Ireland, it means
you lived in one of only a handful of houses in a small townland, and you were
probably related six different ways), so no doubt they put their heads together
at some point to see what they could do to help Maura.
Bridget
has the physical limitations of age, but her mind is sharp. Her memory is long,
and she’s kind. She’s also surprisingly non-judgmental about other people and
their flaws. She’s a good person, and she gives Maura someone to care about!
Even though Maura Donovan has relatives
living nearby, she doesn’t know them having grown up in Boston. She seems alone
in the world. Will you add a romantic interest for Maura?
I’m
having fun with that. Maura knows herself well enough to recognize that she has
a lot of figuring out to do before she even considers a relationship, and she’s
in no hurry. I’ve given her two possibilities: one is an eager young policeman,
Sean Murphy, who’s actually a year or two younger than Maura, and who seems
very innocent to her (there’s not a lot of crime in that part of Ireland, so
he’s not exactly a hardened cop!); the other, Mick Nolan, is ten years older
than Maura and one of her employees—and very close-mouthed about himself and
his past. But he’s looking out for Bridget, his grandmother, which is a point
in his favor.
Both
men and women tend to marry late in Ireland, often in their thirties, so
there’s no pressure on Maura to decide anything quickly, and nobody’s pushing
her. We’ll learn a bit more about young Mick (to distinguish him from Old Mick,
who he worked for) in the next book, but we’ll have to see where things go with
either one of them.
Your main characters share the trait of an
orientation in business. Is business an interest of yours or do their
businesses ground them to the community in which your mysteries take place?
I
have an unusual and non-linear career background: I’ve been an art historian
and worked in a couple of museums, which is the basis for the Museum Mysteries;
I’ve also got a business degree and worked for both the City of Philadelphia
and a major investment banking firm. I’ve been a research genealogist as well. (I
will admit that I have never managed an orchard or run a pub!)
I think all of those
professions offer analytical and practical skills that an amateur sleuth needs.
And the genealogy runs through all of my series. I started researching my own
family tree decades ago and have never stopped (I don’t think anybody just
walks away from family history, once you’re hooked). A family tree is a great
structure to hang a story on, and I borrow from my own all the time.
The last Orchard series mystery, Picked To Die, is set during harvest
time. Main character Meg Corey’s orchard manager, Bree, an American of Jamaican
heritage, seems especially prickly working alongside the immigrants, who pick
the apples. She has a chip on her shoulder. Meg has taken to asking Bree’s
permission to leave the orchard so she can solve the mystery. I found myself
feeling defensive on Meg’s behalf. Meg can’t say anything right because Bree
takes Meg’s remarks as either racist, prejudicial to immigrants, or as upper
management commands. Bree needs an attitude adjustment. Should Bree take a
hike?
You’re
not the only person who has mentioned that. Bree’s been prickly from the start,
but that’s because she is young (early twenties), female and black, and she’s
trying to prove herself and to manage a crew most of whom are men, older than
she is, and more experienced. Meg defers to Bree because Meg recognizes that
she knows nothing about orchard management and has a lot to learn. She lets
Bree call the shots so there’s no confusion about who’s in charge.
But
you’re right: Bree needs to soften up. She’s been working with Meg for two
years now, and she’s proven herself in her job. She needs to take a look at her
life and figure out what she wants to make of it, whether it’s in Meg’s orchard
or somewhere else.
Seth, Meg’s fiancé, runs from volunteer
projects to business renovation projects. Between the two of them, they don’t
have time to discuss their wedding. Does Meg have trepidations marrying a man
who is as busy or busier than she is?
Actually
they’re kind of on the same schedule, because both orchard maintenance and home
renovation happen during the same time of year. But I deliberately made Seth
overcommitted from the start, because he’s looking out for his family, he’s
trying to do work that he loves, and he’s an elected official in the local
community. He’s also the kind of guy who will help anyone who asks, and who
finds it hard to say no. Meg is fairly independent herself, and she respects
what he does (although she might try to trim back his activities just a bit if
she ever wants to see him). Actually I’m surprised they don’t both fall asleep
at the dinner table during most of the year. I’m thinking about sending them
somewhere on a short honeymoon in the next book, where it would be just the two
of them. They might surprise each other!
You wrote and published two books, Relatively Dead and Seeing The Dead, featuring the same main character, Abby Kimball.
Are you toying with writing a fourth series?
Somehow I kind of backed
into writing this series. Relatively Dead
was one of those books that I wrote years ago and put on a shelf, with no plans
to make it a series, and no assurance it would ever be published. In it I
borrowed heavily from my own family history, and from places (including houses
and cemeteries) that I knew personally. Once I finished the first book and self-published
it, I found I wanted to know more about what happened to the characters, and
where this unexpected ability to see the dead (or some of them, at least) was
going. [Note: I’m still looking to meet one or another of my ancestors. I’m
told the house I use in the Orchard series is haunted, and though I’ve stayed
there more than once, I haven’t met the woman yet, although I think I know who
she is.]
I’d characterize these books as supernatural,
a departure for you. Is that part of the attraction?
Yes,
in a way. I’ve lived in Massachusetts for over ten years now. I went to college
and graduate school here because I’d always wanted to live in New England—long
before I started digging into my own family’s history. I discovered that I had
hundreds of ancestors here, going back to the beginning (on one side only—the
other side was pure Irish). Sometimes I feel I almost “see” all the ancestors I
have in New England, particularly Massachusetts—there are so many of them! I
can’t go to a cemetery anywhere in the state without tripping over a relative
of some sort, and I’ve found connections with total strangers on the street. So
I figure they’re calling to me. For Abby, I just took it one step further: what
if she actually does see them? Why?
Ned Newhall is conflicted about many aspects
of his life. He hasn’t been forthright with Abby concerning his business and
shied away from his own supernatural experiences. Is the relationship doomed,
or is he the answer to her prayers?
Well,
now, I can’t make it too easy for them, can I? When they first met, Ned acted
like Abby’s knight in shining armor. Then when he realized what was happening
with her, he tried to stay neutral and let her find her own way. He’s
apparently always been ambivalent about his own supernatural ability, and as a
scientist he’s troubled by it—he’s still trying to find a logical explanation.
But Ned and Abby are working things out together now, and the fact that he has
money and a company, which might have the tools to help, makes it a lot easier
for them both. She has embraced this unusual talent more quickly than he has,
but he’s coming around.
Will there be a third book?
Already
in progress. Abby is trying to understand her unexpected ability—is it limited
to members of her family, or does it go beyond that? She thinks Salem, site of
the infamous witchcraft trials, is the perfect test case: well-documented and
rich with extreme emotions from the past that flared up quickly and died away just
as quickly. Did she have ancestors there? Were they accused or even executed?
She’s going to find out. (And, yes, I did have ancestors there, and some were
accused.)
If you were offered Irish whiskey, Italian
wine, or hard cider, which would you prefer?
Funny
story about the whiskey. I grew up in a martini/scotch family, but never really
cared for the hard stuff. I was happy with white wine, generally. Then in 2013
I was in Dublin, on my way to County Cork, and stopped in the bar at my hotel.
I’d been there before and was working my way through their selection of Irish
whiskeys (research, of course), so I asked the bartender what he would
recommend. He told me I should talk to this other guy at the bar, who turned
out to be a liquor distributor. We got together and I must have tried a dozen
different ones under his expert guidance—different brands, or one brand but
different ages. He showed me how to drink it (with just a dash of water added),
and how to compare them. It was eye-opening, and I was converted.
It
also turned out he was the musical entertainment for the evening—and he
dedicated the old song Whiskey in the Jar
to me.
Then
last summer I was in Leap and paid a call on a very new local distillery
nearby. There are surprisingly few distilleries in Ireland, so this was unusual.
It’s a tiny place, started up five or six years ago by three friends, two of
whom were fishermen. They gave me the grand tour, and I tasted some more whiskeys,
including their own.
So
now I know a lot about Irish whiskey and how it’s made—and both my Dublin
mentor
and the three young men at the distillery will be in the next book (Maura is
running a pub, after all, even if most people stick to a pint of Guinness, so
she needs to know what she’s talking about).
Thank
you so much for inviting me to visit. I love what I’m doing, and I love talking
about it.
