Stay tuned for WHISKEY, LARGE

Coming soon (Launch Date~July 15): Book #7 in the humorous Whiskey Mattimoe Mystery Series. Here's what you're waiting for . . .

Whiskey, Large
by Nina Wright

Nine months pregnant, real estate broker Whiskey Mattimoe is literally living large. She needs a driver now and a nanny very soon. Magnet Springs is re-branding itself as a pet-friendly vacation destination, and the transition is bumpy. Someone is shooting at unleashed dogs, including Whiskey's own escape artist Abra. The shooter could be a disgruntled resident, a crazed tourist, or someone closer to home. More important, why doesn't Whiskey's husband answer his cell phone? Who's going to drive her to the hospital when her water breaks?

Whiskey Mattimoe meets the Wall Street Journal

One afternoon about two weeks ago, just before I left my office, I opened my email and spotted this subject line in the long list of unread messages:

Wall Street Journal article

The sender was someone named Tanaka, Sanette.

Between the unknown sender and the unlikely subject line, I decided the message was spam. My cursor hovering over the “delete” tab, I was poised to click when a tiny voice in my head said, “What the hell. Open it.”

So I did.

The email contained a credible-sounding invitation for a Wall Street Journal interview from Ms. Tanaka, a real estate reporter. She said she was writing an article about novelists with backgrounds in real estate who now write fictional characters working in real estate. Her research had led her to Whiskey Mattimoe and me.

Two days later Ms. Tanaka and I had a delightful half-hour conversation followed by a shorter chat the following week. Although I had been interviewed many times about my books and plays—not to mention the fact that I interview people in my work as a journalist—I was thrilled to be part of a story in the world’s most widely read newspaper.

I never dreamed that my diverse (to put it nicely) professional background would attract the attention of the Wall Street Journal. Rather than tell you today what Ms. Tanaka and I discussed, I urge you to pick up a copy of the February 22, 2013 edition of the paper and read her well-written piece.

If you're an online Wall Street Journal subscriber, you can read it here.

If you're not a subscriber, Google

"real estate truth in fiction" wall street journal

Excerpt: Nina Wright, author of six mystery novels featuring real-estate agent and sleuth Whiskey Mattimoe, says she often embellishes absurd situations to suit her series. In real life, Ms. Wright, who lives in Oakland County, Mich., found out that one of her tenants was running an underground day-care service. In the fourth book, "Whiskey and Water," agent Mattimoe discovers that her tenant is operating an illegal adoption ring.

"There are so many things that can go wrong in real estate," says Ms. Wright. "I've bought and sold a lot of properties, but I haven't seen a single transaction where there aren't colossal screw-ups." 

Speaking of potential screw-ups. here's what I learned from this experience: Think twice before dumping the contents of your in-box.

Midwest Humble

If you, like Whiskey Mattimoe and me, come from the nation's heartland, you may be Midwest humble.

If you’re from the North, South, East or West, or from another country altogether, you may still know what I’m talking about.

Obvious But Essential Disclaimer: Everyone from the heartland is not humble; nor is humility peculiar to Midwesterners. But the vast majority of my peers and I grew up believing we’re just regular folk who need to work hard, get along, and try not to attract too much attention to ourselves.

What makes “Midwest humble” distinct from qualities instilled elsewhere in the U.S.? I gave this a lot of thought during my two years in Dallas, Texas, one of America’s Great Cities and about as cosmically removed from Midwest humble as it’s possible to be. Although I met and worked with hundreds of people in Dallas, the ones who instantly put me at ease were fellow transplants from the part of the world where I grew up. Yup. I got nothin’ against native Texans, Oklahomans, Arkansans or Louisianans; in fact I love to listen to them. But I was irresistibly drawn to folks from Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, Indiana and Ohio. We embraced each other, not only because we talked alike and were outnumbered. We were also outshone. A few reasons why:

1) Some Midwest humble folks of the female persuasion, including me, occasionally go out in public sans make-up and carefully coiffed hair. We may even wear a hat on a cold night, which is guaranteed to give you hat-head when you remove it. Horror of horrors.

2) Our vocabulary lacks a vital word: “y’all.” I am totally serious on this point. “Y’all” means so much more than Midwesterners can immediately grasp. It is an economical yet precise and emphatic way of expressing inclusion, as in “All y’all need to move y’all’s cars.” This word is so useful that I tried to adopt it; unfortunately, I never became fluent.

3) We humble Midwesterners may demonstrate insufficient devotion to a Texas team and find ourselves unable to defend our position. An airport shuttle driver demanded to know what kind of emergency could possibly take me out of Dallas on the eve of the Texas-Oklahoma football game. He was serious; I was speechless. He scorned me.

Whiskey Mattimoe kicks herself now and then for being too Midwest humble. This usually happens in the presence of a character more confident and eloquent. It always happens in the presence of a well-tended woman oozing sex appeal. Although Whiskey knows her way around the boudoir, her author is aware that this protagonist could use a few lessons in seduction. Maybe she needs to spend a couple years in Texas. I could hook her up. . . .

See Whiskey fall in lust for the first time since her husband died: Whiskey on the Rocks, now available on Nook and Kindle.