Tough dame

Very petite noir writer Christa Faust reports on taking a martial arts class as preparation for her next novel.

I suffered the sublime indignity of having my ass handed to me by a ten year old boy. My usual female partner wasn’t there and this kid was the only one in the room within 50 pounds of my weight class. I started off paired up with a guy a foot taller and 110 pounds heavier than me. That was comedy in action. His arm was the length of my leg. I would have had to go get my car and run over his wrist to get him to notice me. I guess the instructor felt sorry for me so he set me up with Josh Barnett Jr, the baby babyfaced assassin. The kid’s dad was in my class and he was just killing time till dad was done. I have no idea how this deadly little blond moppet felt about rolling around on the mat with a grown woman but he seemed to be a good sport about the whole thing. I, on the other hand, was supremely uncomfortable, since kids make me really nervous under the best of circumstances. I think that qualifies as one of the strangest things I’ve ever done while researching a book.

Mind you, Phyllis Dietrichson didn't need martial arts, either.