Farmer Jerrilyn - Murder at the Academy Awards: a red carpet murder mystery

From Joan Rivers

In Hollywood, the only thing larger than a red carpet arrival is Queen Latifahs thongand I, of all people, should know, since Ive been covering the extravagant, bigger-than-life affairs for more years than I can even remember. Lets just say that when I first started interviewing Tinseltowns elite on the red carpet, Michael Jackson liked girls! Paris Hilton was a hotel in France. Lindsay Lohan wore panties! Oh, where have all the years gone, besides to Tommy Lee Joness face?

But seriously, what a great job it is to be interviewing the stars as they arrive at award shows, highlighting the jewels and the fashions, pointing out the celebrity dieters who went too farand those who didnt, frankly, go far enough. People have said that my daughter, Melissa, and I have turned walking into a building into an internationally televised event.

But what happens backstage? You think the night of the Academy Awards is all congratulations and swag bags, all eye-lifts and romance, all Botox and Jimmy Choos? Hah. Celebrities get tense. Tears are shed. Cell phones are tossed. Even I, a woman of notoriously sweet temper, have felt the pressure as I smiled at yet another glittering fashion train wreck.

Two hours with a mike in my hand takes its toll. At times, I wont lie, I honestly felt like killing several impossibly thin cue-card girls and the gal who invented Spanxthat sadist. But if working the red carpet could provoke even me to contemplate murder, imagine how Bjrk must have felt wearing that shmatte with the swan around her neck. If the girl had come to her senses and pecked her designer to death in front of 50 million people with that wretched beak, would anyone have had the heart to convict her? In Hollywood? Dont make me laugh.

But that certainly doesnt make it right. When comedy turns to tragedy, we all must care. An unnatural death cries out for closure: the killer must be caught. Its the essence of every great mystery novel and, even in Hollywood, a life and death matter. (Sort of.)

So what would happen ifinto this awards-frenzied cesspool of glamour and anxiety we dropped a little murder? Say there was a sexy, crazy, outrageous death at Tinseltowns biggest event. And say that no onecertainly not the policecould figure out whodunit. To whom would our poor, frazzled world turn for justice? Thats right. To meJoan Rivers. Or in this case, my slightly younger, slightly blonder, extremely fictional literary counterpart, Maxine (Max) Taylor.

Max and her also extremely fictional daughter, Drew, can investigate and solve a celebrity murder at a red carpet event faster than you can say after-party.

Leave it to methe Red Carpet Murder Mysteries are a fictional spin on my life, and while they are truly works of fiction, they are based on my own experiences and observations. The world depicted in these books could not be any more authentic, raw, and filled with periland thats just the stuff of my online experiments with JDate.com.

Even though the idea to write these mysteries was right under my nose, it took acclaimed film producer and mastermind book packager, Larry Thompson, to bring it to my attention. Before he even finished pitching me the idea of the Red Carpet Murder Mysteries, I said, Oh, yeah. Im in. There are so many people in show biz that I would love to kill. I am so grateful to Larry not only for his ideas and creative talents but also for his passion and belief in me. Hes drop-dead smart and a real keeper.

After Larry lit the match, he and his most efficient head of development, Robert G. Endara II, discovered the mystery-writing talents of my cowriter, bestselling novelist, and new friend, Jerrilyn Farmer. Her Madeline Bean mystery series has been at number one on the L.A. Times bestseller list multiple times, won a host of awards including two Lefties, given to the Funniest Mystery Novel of the Year, and spent weeks on Amazons Hot 100 list. Jerrilyn is also a TV writer who has written comedy for Dana Carvey and Jon Lovitz and now teaches mystery writing at UCLA Extension Writers Program. With the good taste and encouragement of Jerrilyns son, Nick, and the help of her ace literary agent, Evan Marshall, our partnership clicked. The two of us are like the mystery/comedy dream teamI like to kill audiences and she likes to kill fictional characters that remind her oh so much of the people who bug her in real life. Weve laughed together. Weve walked down Madison Avenue together. Weve hung out in L.A. together. Weve puzzled over what makes people tick together. Thank you so much, Jerrilyn.

Next, the literary agency Dupree-Miller & Associates joined our team. They deserve a big kiss. Jan Miller, a star maker and superstar herself, with her ever-vigilant and enthusiastic paisan, Nena Madonia, went immediately to Simon & Schuster and threatened, We have an offer you cant refuse.

And then it was real.

With much enthusiasm, I want to thank everyone at Pocket Books and Simon & Schuster who rolled out the red carpet for me. First, my love, love, love goes to my glorious and talented editor, Mitchell Ivers, who listened to Larry and me at lunch, got it, laughed, and has escorted us every step of the way down the publishing red carpet. Also at Pocket Books and Simon & Schuster, big hugs and no small thanks to Deputy Publisher Anthony Ziccardi, and Publisher Louise Burke, who at that lovefest lunch also laughed and said yes. I think they all ordered the salmon.

I hasten to say thanks to my constant traveling companion, personal manager, and cheerleader, Billy Sammeth; my theatrical agent, Joel Dean; my entertainment lawyer, Kenneth Browning; my business manager, Michael Karlin; my indefatigable personal assistant, Jocelyn Pickett; and my longtime publicist, Judy Katz. With that payroll, you know why I work my ass off.