
A Fit of Tempera (Bed-And-Breakfast Mysteries)
1 journaler for this copy...


No better than it ought to be. As expected, this is a fluffy, lightweight mystery. It's funny how the "cute mystery" genre has so much in common: plucky detectives who do their detecting as a hobby, improbable names that are likely funny to the authors, actions and conversations that don't read "real", longwinded prattling. This one has all of that. An example of the prattling:
Has she no editor?
The story line: Middle-aged cousins Judith and Renie meet at the family cabin in the Pacific Northwest, visit a nearby artist neighbor to get water from his well, and a few hours later find the artist dead. Somehow, although the cabin is close to their own, they manage to miss seeing the parade of visitors the artist had between their water visit and finding him dead.
What else have we got to entertain us?
A nincompoop undersheriff named Abbot N. Costello. A legally-blind woman. An art agent who says things like "canoodle". Police procedure that is taken out of Nancy Drew, or worse. Even a few cursory glimpses at detective shows on television would alert most writers to common protocol as well as basic info on how long it takes to get certain processes done. The blind woman is treated like an invalid, as if she has no way to get around, tell time, work, do anything useful.
And finally, the paint. Tempera is spilled at the scene of the crime. It doesn't appear to be egg tempera, which takes some mixing and the novel says this paint comes in jars. So that means it is poster paint. One of the artists uses it. It is hard for me to imagine a beautiful, intricate landscape painted with poster paint. But i suppose it's possible...
"Whoa!" She grabbed Renie by the arm. "Sorry, coz, I was ruminating. You know - Life. Death. The meaning of existence. What mundane prattle have you been spewing while I waxed sentimental and philosophical?"
Has she no editor?
The story line: Middle-aged cousins Judith and Renie meet at the family cabin in the Pacific Northwest, visit a nearby artist neighbor to get water from his well, and a few hours later find the artist dead. Somehow, although the cabin is close to their own, they manage to miss seeing the parade of visitors the artist had between their water visit and finding him dead.
What else have we got to entertain us?
A nincompoop undersheriff named Abbot N. Costello. A legally-blind woman. An art agent who says things like "canoodle". Police procedure that is taken out of Nancy Drew, or worse. Even a few cursory glimpses at detective shows on television would alert most writers to common protocol as well as basic info on how long it takes to get certain processes done. The blind woman is treated like an invalid, as if she has no way to get around, tell time, work, do anything useful.
And finally, the paint. Tempera is spilled at the scene of the crime. It doesn't appear to be egg tempera, which takes some mixing and the novel says this paint comes in jars. So that means it is poster paint. One of the artists uses it. It is hard for me to imagine a beautiful, intricate landscape painted with poster paint. But i suppose it's possible...

Journal Entry 3 by
jlautner
at Ben Franklin's On Higuera Near Marsh in San Luis Obispo, California USA on Saturday, March 21, 2009


Released 16 yrs ago (3/21/2009 UTC) at Ben Franklin's On Higuera Near Marsh in San Luis Obispo, California USA
WILD RELEASE NOTES:
WILD RELEASE NOTES:
On a table inside.
On a table inside.