Naomi Hirahara

The year is 1944. The place is Chicago. Aki Ito and her parents have been relocated from their home in California to Chicago, and so have thousands of other Japanese Americans. Rose, Aki’s sister, has gone on before them, and they are excited to be reunited with her. But on the eve of this much-anticipated reunion, they are told that there has been an accident, and Rose is dead of a supposed suicide. Aki cannot believe that her sister, who loved life to the fullest and had plans and show more dreams, would kill herself. And so, Aki puts her own plan in motion: to find out exactly what her sister had been doing that led someone to murder her. This atmospheric mystery combines real history with fictional crimes, and the result is gripping and intriguing. The historic background is well-researched. The characters are well-defined and true to life. Aki is an amateur detective, and as such, she makes makes mistakes and puts herself, and her few friends, in danger. Some of what she does is a bit far-fetched, but it does add excitement and drama to the story, as does the locality of Chicago—a big city with all its inherent problems. It’s a heartbreaking story, but one that can be appreciated both on a historical level and as an entertaining mystery. show less

Believe me, I am under no illusion that I will ever become a crime fiction writer. I have, however, been reading steadily enough from the genre since the mid-sixties that I feel a certain kinship to those who do write it. And, because I also have a weakness for books about writing, especially those written in a memoir-like style, Writing Crime Fiction was a natural choice for me.

Twelve different writers, all of them members of the Top Suspense Group, contribute a chapter to Writing Crime show more Fiction. That the chapters are as different in tone and topic as the writers themselves makes for some interesting reading. Want to learn more about the pros and cons (from a writer’s perspective) of the “indie revolution” that is impacting publishing today? Joel Goodman has a whole chapter on the topic, including detailed tips on self-publishing and marketing your work.

Stephen Gallagher’s “Craft Notes” chapter gets into some of the specifics of constructing a crime story but is particularly interesting to non-writers in that it also addresses things like “writer’s block” and how to deal with critics. Gallagher’s number one rule is: “Never reply to a critic.” He adds:

“Criticism is not wise advice to the artist; it’s a dialogue between the reviewer and the public. Your relationship to it is that of an eavesdropper…and eavesdroppers who listen in hope of hearing something good about themselves almost invariably find disappointment.”

Wannabe mystery writers will find in Writing Crime Fiction what they need to accomplish their goal. Lee Goldberg’s “Double Take” chapter and Libby Hellmann’s chapter entitled “Jack Bauer and Me: Building Suspense” offer detailed insights into the construction of a crime novel. Goldberg discusses in detail the bones that hold crime novels together, the frame upon which all good crime fiction is carefully built, while Hellmann takes a similar approach to the sub-genre of “suspense” novels.

There are chapters on “Finishing the First Novel” (a particularly helpful chapter), script writing and dealing with Hollywood, writing sex scenes, writing about amateur detectives, combining crime and historical fiction, writing “zombie fiction,” and one in which Bill Crider discusses the “secret” to getting published. As it turns out, Crider has ten secrets to offer, the final one being: “There are no secrets.”

What is perhaps my favorite chapter in Writing Crime Fiction is Dave Zeltserman’s “On Writing Noir.” Noir fiction is a particular love of mine but, try as I might, I can never explain the definition of “noir” to my own satisfaction – much less make anyone else understand the term. Between the Otto Penzler definition quoted in the chapter and Zelserman’s refinement of Penzler, I think I finally get it – my instincts about the term were good, but I finally understand why.

The real beauty of Writing Crime Fiction, I think, is that it offers something for all of us, writer and reader, alike. If you want to try your hand at writing a crime novel, this is the book for you. If you want to better understand why you love crime fiction so much – and how it all comes together - here are the answers. show less

Yes, I was late getting to CLARK AND DIVISION, and anything I say about it has probably been said already. But did I like it? Yes--mostly.

CLARK AND DIVISION is a historical mystery. In my opinion, that makes it better than most historical fiction. Plus, apparently, Naomi Hirahara based her characters on real people and their stories. And her mystery was based on a real case. That's why I liked it.

it is 1944. A Japanese American family was finally allowed to leave the concentration camp where show more they had been incarcerated in California. They are now in Chicago and soon learn that the eldest daughter, Rose, who went to Chicago ahead of her parents and sister, is dead, run over by a subway. Her 20-year-old sister, Aki, investigates this "accident" throughout the book. Was this really an accident? Aki doubts it. But was the official finding, that Rose committed suicide, correct? Aki is sure that's not right. Could someone have pushed Rose? That's the mystery.

Even more than the mystery, though, CLARK AND DIVISION is about the Japanese American experience postdetainment. This historical fiction is the reason, I'm sure, the book won so many awards. show less

Naomi Hirahara's Evergreen is billed as mystery (and yes, there's a mystery at its heart), but in reality it's a complex and beautiful exploration of life within a vilified minority community and the struggle to be perceived as "ordinary" and to be granted the rights of full citizenship.

The central character, Aki, and her family were held in the Manzanar internment center for Japanese Americans/enemy aliens during World War II. The internment ended two years ago. The family subsequently show more lived in Chicago (where Aki's older sister died) and has now returned to Los Angeles where they lived before the war.

Not exactly where they lived before—their former home is now occupied by others, but they have found a place for themselves in a different neighborhood. Thousands of Japanese Americans who haven't found housing are living in resettlement centers while trying to rebuild their prewar lives. Some of these resettlement centers offer safety and a relatively comfortable existence. Others are far worse than the internment camps were, with inadequate housing and a lack of basic necessities like running water and proper bathrooms. In addition, the end to the war has not brought an end to the popular view of Japanese Americans as the enemy

Aki now works as a nurse's aid in a Boyle Heights hospital that primarily serves Japanese Americans. Almost everyone around her—doctors, nurses, and patients alike—is recovering from the internment. Aki married in Chicago before she, her husband, and her parents made the move west. Being a newlywed in a home shared with parents is awkward, but also a relative privilege. Aki's husband has begun working as a reporter for a community newspaper. His coworkers are polished journalists with well-informed, complex views on current politics, both local and national, which Aki finds intimidating.

When Aki helps care for a patient who clearly has suffered repeated beatings, but who minimizes his injuries, she begins to worry about his safety. It turns out that this patient is the father of Babe, her husband's best friend from the army. Babe is the one who dropped the camera, leaving Aki and her husband with no wedding pictures. He's a small-time gangster and womanizer. In other words, Babe is not someone upon whom Aki is likely to look kindly. Worrying that Babe may be responsible for her patient's injuries, Aki begins investigating. Then, she learns that Babe is wanted by the police.

The narrative built around the question of Babe's probable responsibility for his father's injuries provides the main impetus for the plot's action, but more than the specifics of that case, what makes this novel resonant and powerful are the many portraits of individuals in this rebuilding community. There's a doctor who has put off retirement to continue providing care for his community; an orphaned friend from Manzanar who is considering a religious career; the younger brother this friend is raising and hoping to gain custody of; friends from Chicago who are becoming wealthy leaders in Los Angeles while drifting apart; a lawyer trying to help Japanese American business people regain ownership of businesses that they lost during the internment period; the African Americans who worked in the defense industry and moved into what was once a Japanese American neighborhood.

Hirahara provides readers with a rich mix of perspectives, so that readers understand not just Aki's journey, but the journeys of those around her as well. The novel is remarkably gentle given the material it covers, gentle in that it focuses on day-to-day life, where *being* is the focus as much as is *doing.* Aki comes to see her own world more complexly, gradually becoming politically active and beginning to question her assumptions about others.

Hirahara offers character-driven writing that's panoramic in scope and built around a mystery that becomes a quest for justice. Whether you're looking for a mystery set in an interesting context or a fictional exploration of internment and its cultural and financial impacts, you'll be delighted with Evergreen. I hope I'll be able to spend a great deal more time with Hirahara's Aki in the future.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via Edelweiss; the opinions are my own. show less