Author: Cate Holahan

Shonda Rhimes: Compassion For Characters

For more than a month, I walked the dog with Shonda Rhimes. Ms. Rhimes’ MasterClass is one of the longer and, in my opinion, more informative courses for writers on the podcast service. She demystifies breaking into television, discusses writing in general and also gets specific with the structure of various types of television episodes. She’s also has an amazing work-ethic, approach to her craft, and incredible talent. Plus, she’s funny.

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Mysteries have always been my escape. As a child, I read Nancy Drew, Goosebumps, and E.L. Konigsburg “From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” to get a break from being a kid with very little agency who felt like things were always happening around–or to–her.

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Favorite Bookstores Around the World

Since I visited Portugal’s famed Livraria Lello bookstore this week, I decided to ask the MissDemeanors to share with me some of their favorite bookstores and why. Here’s what my colleagues in crime (writing) said.

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Celebrating the Fourth, a long way from home.

For the first time in a long time, I’m out of the country for American Independence Day. I am missing the flying flags and fireworks, the pool parties with family, friends, and neighbors during which we all celebrate over BBQ and potato salad and grilled corn.

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Things Thriller Writers Do On Vacation…

I went to Porto, Portugal earlier this week. There were many things on my must do list, including visiting the Livrario Lello and tasting port in the city that made it famous. But also on this list was visiting the catacombs by the Church of Saint Francis.

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The Most Beautiful Bookstore In The World

I am writing this post from Porto, Portugal, home of Livraria Lello–the world’s most beautiful bookstore. The store was founded 150 years ago in 1869 and has been selling a variety of Portuguese language titles and translated works ever since.

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Bombarding Bookstores

Brooklyn was hot and sticky. After days of rain, the sun had returned with a vengeance, beating down on the young residents darting between cafes and boiling the trash-bags tucked in alleys. I’d been walking for miles. Sweat had ceased beading on my hairline and begun dampening the back of my neck. My shoulder sopped beneath the strap of the heavy bag that I carried, laden with books.

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