An Exclusive Guest Post from Laura Lippman, Author of Lady in the Lake—Our July Mystery & Thriller Pick
Laura Lippman, author of Sunburn and the Tess Monaghan series, returns to the streets of Baltimore in this classic story of ambition, dreams and murder with perfectly placed elements of noir and sly humor. This riveting thriller delivers all the right twists and will keep your mind spinning until the very end. Stephen King was even quoted as saying “Lippman answers all outstanding questions with a totally cool double twist that your reviewer—a veteran reader of mysteries—never saw coming.” Here, Laura shares some of the political and literary inspirations behind her latest novel—and our must-read July Mystery & Thriller Pick.
Lady in the Lake
Paperback $18.99
Lady in the Lake
In Stock Online
Paperback $18.99
Lady in the Lake began with a specific desire not to write about the present. It was early 2017, I had just finished a novel set in the mid-90s, but I couldn’t see how to write about the present day. I think one thing we can all agree on is that the early months of 2017 felt a little crazy, although relative to 2020—well, anyway, I was stumped.
I was aware that the presidential election of 2016 had some uncanny similarities to the Maryland gubernatorial race of 1966. I had always known that the parents of my series character, Tess Monaghan, had met while working on that campaign. I began to plan a prequel— a story that would explain why Tess has an “uncle” named Spike whose connection to the family had always been murky and whose past as a convicted felon was unexplored.
The problem with a prequel is that it’s hard to surprise readers. So, even as I immersed myself in all things 1966, I allowed my original ideas to recede to the background. But what to replace them with? I was re-reading Marjorie Morningstar, a beloved favorite, when I was struck for the first time by how young Marjorie is at the book’s end— only 39. Yet Herman Wouk writes her off as if her life is finished, with no surprises or adventures left.
I began to think about how a chance encounter with someone who knew us in our youths could become a call to action, a reminder of all the things we promised our younger selves. And I also began thinking about how carelessly our culture has used Black bodies, Black suffering. What would happen if a white woman became obsessed with the mysterious death of an African American woman, saw it as her ticket to success and lost all sight of the humanity of the dead woman?
And what would happen if the woman’s ghost was having no part of it?
Lady in the Lake began with a specific desire not to write about the present. It was early 2017, I had just finished a novel set in the mid-90s, but I couldn’t see how to write about the present day. I think one thing we can all agree on is that the early months of 2017 felt a little crazy, although relative to 2020—well, anyway, I was stumped.
I was aware that the presidential election of 2016 had some uncanny similarities to the Maryland gubernatorial race of 1966. I had always known that the parents of my series character, Tess Monaghan, had met while working on that campaign. I began to plan a prequel— a story that would explain why Tess has an “uncle” named Spike whose connection to the family had always been murky and whose past as a convicted felon was unexplored.
The problem with a prequel is that it’s hard to surprise readers. So, even as I immersed myself in all things 1966, I allowed my original ideas to recede to the background. But what to replace them with? I was re-reading Marjorie Morningstar, a beloved favorite, when I was struck for the first time by how young Marjorie is at the book’s end— only 39. Yet Herman Wouk writes her off as if her life is finished, with no surprises or adventures left.
I began to think about how a chance encounter with someone who knew us in our youths could become a call to action, a reminder of all the things we promised our younger selves. And I also began thinking about how carelessly our culture has used Black bodies, Black suffering. What would happen if a white woman became obsessed with the mysterious death of an African American woman, saw it as her ticket to success and lost all sight of the humanity of the dead woman?
And what would happen if the woman’s ghost was having no part of it?