RITUALS

by Deborah Elliott-Upton

A man always has two reasons for what he does—a good one, and the real one. –J. Pierpont Morgan

***MY NAME IS DEBORAH ELLIOTT-UPTON AND I APPROVE THIS MESSAGE***

Everyone has their own little rituals. My first subscription was to ’TEEN magazine, which I paid for myself. My first fiction magazine subscription was to Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, soon followed by another to Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine.

When I first subscribed to Ellery Queen, each time an issue arrived, I planned the afternoon like I was having a party. The guests included me and those marvelous authors who’d written such fabulous stories to whisk me away to places I’d never been, to hang with thieves, criminals and the best detective minds of the age(s).

Depending on the season, I’d either pour a cup of coffee or grab a Dr. Pepper (we were all Peppers back then along with the guy in the vest, David Naughton, who starred in the movie, “An American Werewolf in London.”) I’d slather butter on two slices of bread, cover each with a cheese slice and pop them side-by-side (but never touching) into a skillet. I’d dab a tablespoon or so of salsa (Pace Picante was my favorite) on top of each cheese slice. I’d turn one slice over onto the other and as it melted, let the cheese ooze together. Flip it once more to grill the second side, then slide it onto a plate and head for the bedroom with my sandwich, drink and new copy of Ellery Queen.

For some reason, reading Ellery Queen seemed better propped up in my bed. The first thing I read was the Contents page. It seems like there were no advertisements in either Ellery Queen or Alfred Hitchcock back then, but it’s been a while; perhaps there were. Before reading any of the stories, I’d read the Department of First Stories, followed by The Jury Box. As far as I know, Jon L. Breen has always been the byline beneath The Jury Box. I read every word, imagining someday my name and book title would be mentioned in his book reviews.

I so wanted to read my name in the Department of First Stories, which is EQ’s dedicated pages to finding new authors to publish. When I sold my first story to another magazine with a bigger circulation and who paid more, the only regret I had was that I would never be in Ellery Queen’s Department of First Stories.

It was an ex-brother-in-law who introduced me both to Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. The brother-in-law and I didn’t have much in common except for the love of the mystery short story. I never had a favorite between the two magazines, except that EQ’s Department of First Stories gave me hope of being published someday in their magazine strictly by keeping that section open through the years.

I know a lot of writers who have rituals about how they write. Some write only in the early morning hours, others during the night. I once was a habitual afternoon author, writing between the hours of when I needed to fix lunch and when the kids would come home from school, but now I grab time when I find empty time.

Some write in their pajamas, some in sweats and one that I know wears nothing at all. It seems there is room for everyone’s tastes in such matters.

Sometimes, I now still read in bed, but it’s probably between the nightly news hour and switching off my nightstand lamp for hopefully eight hours of uninterrupted slumber. I rarely have the grilled cheese/Dr. Pepper party, but when I do it is always special.

Often, I find I read most while sitting in a car, or waiting in someone’s office or most likely, when I really need a break. This past week, I experienced some sort of cold/flu bug that was traveling around looking for unsuspecting victims. I felt rotten, but I armed myself with a box of Kleenex, a hot toddy and a new issue of Ellery Queen. The escape lasted long enough for me to feel better for a while.

Reading relaxes me. It invigorates me, and yes, sometimes it makes me want a gooey, cheesy grilled sandwich to chomp. Nothing goes better with a cold-hearted murder than a grilled cheese with a salsa kick and a frosty Dr. Pepper.