Stepping Out Into a New World with HID FROM OUR EYES

Virtual Event: Julia Spencer-Fleming and Jenn McKinlay in conversation on Facebook Live, tonight, April 7, at 8pm EST!

Hosted by the Poisoned Pen Bookstore; information here.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Reader, they've published it.

After the better part of a decade, disease, death, drop outs and dysfunction, HID FROM OUR EYES is finally, finally here.

In the middle of a worldwide pandemic. Yay?

Here's the thing: I've been looking at my novel for the first time since finishing the (ugh) copyedits back in July, and I'm starting to notice an odd pattern. This book has something to say about our present moment.

"But Julia," I hear you say, "Isn't it about three identical murders taking place decades apart, and the three police chiefs working the cases?" Well, yes, that's what the plot is. But a novel is always about a lot more than the plot. Here's what I saw on my reread of HID FROM OUR EYES that I see differently in April, 2020:

1. Penny wise, pound foolish. At the end of the previous Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne book, the leaders of Millers Kill decide to put to the vote the question of whether or not to dissolve the Miller Kill Police Department and replace it with patrols by the State Police, saving thousands and thousands of dollars. But through the eyes of police chiefs Harry McNeal, Jack Liddle, and Russ Van Alstyne, we can see how much care, attention and dedication each man puts into his job.  As Russ points out to a voters group, the local cops on the beat stop annoyances before they become problems. 

Sort of like how stockpiling masks, PPEs and ventilators before they're desperately needed means having them available without paying premium marked-up prices. (To say nothing of toilet paper.)

2. Do we really want those people here? In HID FROM OUR EYES,  we get to see the Millers Kill area summer people up close and personal - folks with gorgeous mountain houses who spend money on local businesses and services - but who may not have the interests of the year round residents at heart. Places like Millers Kill - and Maine, where I live - have a love-hate relationship with seasonal visitors, and these days, the feeling is tipping toward one end of that spectrum, as people with second homes in more bucolic areas flee, not unreasonably, from urban areas that have become hot spots for Covid-19. 

In Maine, we've had incidents of petty vandalism and harassment, as natives fear people "from away" bringing contagion with them. In Millers Kill, the relationship between flatlanders and locals takes a darker turn... which, hopefully, we won't see in real life.

3. Blaming the outsider. The three murders in HID FROM OUR EYES may be decades apart, but they take place at the same time of year. One group that comes up again and again in the investigations are the carnival workers who arrive for the county fair each August - closed off, looking down on the marks, with their own lingo and mores. Each of the police chiefs sets the carnies high on their list of persons of interest. Yes, they might be right. But the first reason the ticket-takers, roustabouts and game tenders fall under suspicion is because they're outsiders - a society emphatically set apart from both the townspeople and the second-home crowd.


I don't think I need to point out the parallels in our country today. Bad things start to happen, and it's the fault of the Chinese, or Asians generally, or Italians, or all those people south of the border. They must be behind the problems. Why? Because they're not us.

4. The heroism of ordinary lives. We've been talking about this at JRW over the past couple of weeks - how the nurse next door, your mailman, the kid delivering take-out and the cleaning crew disinfecting the grocery store have become heroes in many people's eyes. Ordinary folks, just doing their job, and in so doing, enabling the rest of us to stay home, flatten the curve, and save lives. Scared sometimes, and worried, and stressed, but still showing up.

I think of my characters like that. The three police chiefs aren't heroes. They aren't climbing any higher on the career ladder. Their goals are to do the job for their small town, one day after another, until retirement. Reverend Fergusson and the people at her church don't think of themselves as heroes, either - they're focusing on helping others in small ways; fixing a meal, listening to a story, offering shelter. And despite pain and PTSD and problems big and small, they all show up, every day, the very act of doing so making the world a better place.

Honestly, dear readers, I kind of wish I had a funny, light-hearted book to offer you, or a thrilling escape into the past, or adventures in lovely and exotic locales. (Lucky for you, you can get those and more from my blog sisters!) But this is what I write, one small, economically depressed corner of the real world, and so this is what I give you. I hope you take a look, and maybe buy it from your local independent bookstore (they ship!) or check it out of your library (librarians are some of those ordinary heroes, working to put ebooks and audio books in as many hands as possible.)

And may we all enjoy better days in which to read and write.



New York Times bestselling novelist Julia Spencer-Fleming took up writing while still a stay-at-home mother, creating Clare Fergusson, first female priest in the small Adirondack town of Millers Kill. Her series has won or been nominated for every American mystery award available, including the Edgar, the Anthony, and the Agatha. HID FROM OUR EYES is her ninth book. You can follow her on Facebook or Twitter.