MARTHA GRIMES

In Baltimore, I was walking with a friend who was playing at a pub he kept referring to as the Horse. But when I saw the sign 'The Horse You Came In On' - I thought, 'My God.' I had no intention of ever setting a Jury novel in the U.S., but when I saw that, I thought, 'That's it.' The names are very important.

When you write the first book of a series, you do have to be careful what you put in because then you are stuck with it.

My black cat was named Blackie.

I have readers tell me that I must be bored, but that's not true. I am never bored with the characters. I like them.

I love stories. I just enjoy telling stories and watching what these characters do - although writing continues to be just as hard as it always was.

There are people who read Tolstoy or Dostoevski who do not insist that their endings be happy or pleasant or, at least, not be depressing. But if you're writing mysteries - oh, no, you can't have an ending like that. It must be tidy.

I'll see something or hear something. Sometimes, it can be a color. Or a piece of music. Or an image of some kind. I see something, and it has huge emotional weight, although I have no idea why.

I don't think I could have just kept writing the 'Richard Jury' books. It wasn't that I was bored or dissatisfied. I just had to write something else.

I do read P.D. James because she pays much more attention to character, to a particular atmosphere or setting. But most mystery writers, I think, are controlled by the plot.

I do Q&As, not readings.

The England I write about doesn't strike me as the real one.

I don't have to hang around a pub, really, to get an idea. I usually visit it once, get the layout, the atmosphere, the feel of it.

Writing a mystery is more difficult than other kinds of books because a mystery has a certain framework that must be superimposed over the story.

I'm constantly battling writer's block; it usually takes me two hours to write anything.

Silence is a way of saying: we do not have to entertain each other; we are okay as we are.

Arnold was a dog's dog. Whenever he shuffled along walks and through alleyways, he always gave the impression of being on to something big.

Elf made his way fuzzily back to the drawer, trying to think nasty thoughts about his tormentor (Mungo the dog) but he couldn't, as he was too little and his mind was formless and without messages.( Elf the tiny kitten Mungo tormented )

We don't know who we are until we see what we can do.

You can't be blocked if you just keep on writing words. Any words. People who get 'blocked' make the mistake of thinking they have to write good words.

Remember the great film with Bette Davis, All About Eve? There's a scene after the scheming Eve steals Margo's role through trickery & then gets this magnificent review. Margo of course is effing & blinding all over the place. And crying. Her director rushes into her house, puts his arms around her & says, "I ran all the way". That's what I want.

Most people see what they want to, or at least what they expect to.

Children can ask what adults don't dare to because we don't want to admit we're scared and we don't really want to hear the answers.

An idyllic childhood is probably illusion.

I cleared my throat - it isn't frogs you get in your throat; it's memories.

And so it continued all day, wynde after wynde, From a room beyond came the whistle of a teakettle. Now, you really must join me. I've some marvelous Darjeeling, and some delicious petit fours a friend of mine gave me for Christmas.