BY FRAN PAINO, A.K.A. F. DELLA NOTTE

Being a figure skating enthusiast, I tuned in at 4:30 a.m. to the last major international figure skating competition before the 2026 Winter Olympics: The Four Continents, from Beijing, China. At the time, I was unconcerned with the time difference and what it meant to U.S. audiences, and since I communicate with family in Europe frequently, I’m accustomed to thinking about “what time is it” before I make a call. It was when the American Ice Dance team of Emilie Zingas and Vadym Kolesnik were interviewed after their win that time zones became front and center.

Emilie made a point of thanking her parents for all they do and for “staying up in the middle of the night” in Michigan to watch her skate to victory, as China is 13 hours ahead of Michigan, and 14 hours ahead of Austin, Texas. That’s more than half a day, and perhaps like jet lag without leaving your home. I agreed with Emilie, it warranted a special mention and thanks, and it gave rise to my question. Are there structured guidelines for incorporating different time zones into the same stories, and why is that important?

There are technical terms for the methods of writing split-time narratives, and how to use them to give readers clear structural signals. They include Alternating Chapters for specific times and/or locations; sectioned timelines, grouping multiple chapters from one timeline into a distinct “part” before switching to another time zone; and converging plots, even when each thread is at a different point in time, weaving them into a shared climax.

Clarity and Transitions can be emphasized by using time stamps or actually noting the time zone. i.e., Noon, CST, or using geographic descriptions, or outright statements, such as XXX miles away, in …, which tell the reader where they are going next in the story, what the time there is. Each timeline should have its own internal conflict and resolution, and stakes that are equally compelling so readers won’t feel it’s okay to skip any of them. Again, the endings should be woven together. These techniques are vital for clarity and flow for the reader, who should not stop to wonder where we are and what time it is there.

In my upcoming fourth novel in the Housekeeper Mystery Series, Murder in the Cat’s Eye, A Roman Antiquities Mystery, much of the action takes place simultaneously between Rome, Italy, and Austin, Texas. The distance is approximately 5,700 air miles, and Rome, Italy, is on Central European Time (CET) during the winter months, and switches to Central European Summer Time (CEST) from the last Sunday in March to the last Sunday in October, keeping it seven hours ahead of Austin. This time difference comes into play in several chapters, when Mrs. B. and Fr. Melvyn take a small group from St. Francis de Sales in Austin, Texas, to Rome, Italy, to learn about the lives of early Roman Christians.

They get more history than they bargained for. First, an antique cross shows up in Mrs. B.’s book bag, then she’s kidnapped on Halloween night. The young thief responsible for stealing the cross is murdered, and the life of an antiquities dealer is threatened. The leader of a local crime family becomes involved, and the hierarchy of the Catholic Church swoops in to determine if the cross is a missing relic thought to be a myth, and to whom it belongs. Unfamiliar with the differences in law enforcement and unsure of who to trust, Father Melvyn reaches asks his friend, Jake Zayas, an APD police detective, with contacts in Interpol, for help.

Austin diocesan responsibilities require Father Melvyn to return to Texas, before Mrs. B. leaving her embroiled in power battles, mayhem, and murder. Upping the tension is the frequent shift between continents and time zones, which requires careful attention to keep the story’s actions flowing in sensible, understandable streams for the reader.

Using timestamps and location methods, along with descriptions of the cities and time gaps, adds to the drama. Precise notes and clarity are needed to prevent the reader from losing the narrative’s thread. Handling time zones that are an hour apart, like moving between states or Canada and the Midwest in Blood Calls for Blood, is more straightforward than managing the seven-hour gap in Murder in the Cat’s Eye. This significant time difference can intensify narrative tension; for instance, a phone call at eleven a.m. in Rome reaches Austin at four a.m., which is far from routine, and these time gaps aren’t just dramatic devices for fiction.

Returning to sports and time zones, there will be a 6- to 9-hour time difference between Milan, and Cortina, Italy, and the various U.S. time zones for the 2026 Winter Olympic Games. The drama and suspense of the events will air on NBC, USA, and, for subscribers, Peacock TV. This will give a full range of times to watch live or on playback.

Meanwhile, Mrs. B., Father Melvyn, and the cast of Murder in the Cat’s Eye will conclude their time and involvement in Rome, Italy. Will they all get back to the U.S. alive and well? What will they have learned about ancient Christian history? About themselves? Which friendships will hold? Will they make new friends? How will they have grown from their experiences in Rome? Watch for Murder in the Cat’s Eye, A Roman Antiquities Mystery, to find out.

Meanwhile, enjoy the Olympics and happy reading!

By F. Della Notte

Ideas for stories are often triggered by research into family members, alive or deceased, strangers and their stories and the histories of different cities, countries, and states. The information may never appear in a book, but it gives the writer a more profound sense of historical events that color the author’s senses. And of course, the older the city, town, or state, the deeper the hidden gems that may be found.

My short story, “The Runaway Pin Boy,” was inspired by my immigrant uncle, circa 1926, who ran away from home and worked as a pin boy in the New York City Bowery until his father (my grandfather) found him. What was life like for pin boys, often called pin monkeys? The research took me from the Bowery in New York City, where it began, to the development of the sport and bowling alleys across the nation.

Then, of course, there was the period of prohibition, another explosive, compelling time in history, giving birth to the private, secret clubs called speakeasies. Lest we think speakeasies were exclusively in big cities like New York, Austin, Texas, had its own. Some are still in operation, such as the well-known Prohibition ATX on Anderson Mill Road, which is jazzy and more modern-looking than its forerunner. The Midnight Cowboy, an old brothel masquerading as a massage parlor, is now one of the oldest speakeasies in Austin.

The unlikely combination of a ballet dancer, an old Victorian house in Austin, and the myth of Confederate gold inspired much of Two Wolves Dancing. None of the American Civil War’s hidden treasures, however, have been found or confirmed to exist, including the gold Jefferson Davis supposedly hid when fleeing the Union in 1863. There is still an ongoing dispute about what happened to gold bars that vanished near Dents Run, Pennsylvania, on their way to the U.S. Mint. There is one find that may keep treasure hunting for Confederate gold alive for generations to come: The Great Kentucky Hoard. In 2023, an anonymous person using a metal detector discovered 700 Civil War-era gold coins buried in a cornfield in Kentucky. The hoard was confirmed and the coins authenticated by numismatic authorities.

As a native New Yorker who used the New York City subway system extensively, it was the stories of the hidden subway tunnels that triggered my imagination once again. While a myth of an immense hidden treasure from the turn of the 20th century does not exist in the subways of New York, there is one gem: The Subway Garnet.

In 1885, while excavating for a sewer line beneath West 35th Street, a worker dug up a massive, red-brown garnet weighing almost 10 pounds. Initially, the rock was used as a doorstop by the Department of Public Works until its identity and its value were eventually recognized by a geologist. Now, it is housed at the American Museum of Natural History.

The secrets, legends, and urban myths of the subway system are old and many.  There’s the story of the pneumatic subway, constructed in the 1860s by inventor Alfred Ely Beach, beneath Broadway. Eventually, the project was abandoned and the entrance sealed. Decades later, when building the modern subway, excavators broke through and found the abandoned railcar.

The abandoned City Hall station, opened in 1904, was considered the crown jewel of the first subway line. It was closed in 1945 due to its sharp curve and low ridership, but myths of its secrets persist. Today, riders on the Number 6 train can sometimes catch a glimpse of the ornate station as the train turns around. Then there’s Track 61.

Now abandoned, Track 61 lies beneath Grand Central Terminal, running to the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s custom five-car train platformed there, allowing him to enter and exit the hotel discreetly, keeping his paralysis out of public view.

And what would Urban legends and myths be without the Mole People: Dwellers who created shantytowns in abandoned tunnels. And ghost stories are a must, and so are ghost trains. Rumors persist of a phantom train that can sometimes be seen in the Astor Place station. One theory suggests the ghost train is the private car, called the Mineola, of August Belmont Jr., the financier of the first subway line, who used it to transport guests to his racetrack. Ghostly pets also have their place in the underground. Due to its connection with FDR and his dog, Fala, legends claim that the terrier’s ghost still haunts Track 61, where the dog used to accompany its master. 

And so with all of these histories, stories, and myths in a nation that hasn’t been in existence for quite 250 years, how much more can we imagine from ancient empires?

In book four of the Housekeeper Mystery Series, Mrs. B., and her boss, Father Melvyn decide to take a group to Rome Italy, to study the lives of the early Roman Christians, and find themselves in the middle of a theft and murder surrounding the discovery of an ancient cross that might have belonged to Miltiades, the first bishop of Rome, in the 4th century, when Christianity was illegal and punishable by death. The legend: a special cross, was made by Emperor Constantine, in 312 A.D. after his victory at the Milvian Bridge. He had a vision of the symbol of the cross, accompanied by the words, “In this sign you will conquer,” and he did. This was the turning point for Christianity, and the beginning of the myth that a gold cross studded with gems was gifted to Miltiades, to be passed down to each succeeding prelate. But the cross disappeared and didn’t resurface in Rome until Mrs. B. and Father Melvyn arrived. The question is, why, and who would kill for this cross?  

To find the answers, watch for Murder in the Cat’s Eye coming by the end of 2025.

Meanwhile, happy historical explorations and happy reading.