For the second time this year, I’m editing galley proofs. My next book, The Charlatan Murders, will be released at the end of March. In the coming weeks, I’ll get to see cover sketches and blurbs, and I’ll watch the magic (from a distance) as Barking Rain Press pulls together all the logistics that goes into a final printed book. It’s an amazing process and I’m loving every minute of it. In fact, I might even be more excited than I was the first time around, because when I went through this process with The Hatbox Murders, a (fairly large) part of me still didn’t really believe it was actually happening, whereas this time I know it’s real!!!
This is where I share my love of classic mysteries, my work as a mystery writer, some random stuff, and a bit about my dog. Do you love sleuths, detectives, clues, and puzzles? If so, you’re in good company!
I love comments, so please feel free to add your thoughts, follow me on social media, or just browse around. 🙂
How does one describe a mystery genre? 5 or 6 years ago, when people used to ask me what I write, I would tell them I wrote mysteries. I would often have to explain that, no, I didn’t write thrillers, horror, or medical suspense. I wrote more old-fashioned mysteries, more like Agatha Christie’s stories. Classic whodunits, with a fairly small cast of characters, a clever sleuth, a charming location, and nothing too offensive or graphic. You know; just fun, old-fashioned murder mysteries.
Until one day, someone nodded knowingly and said, “Oh, you write cozies.”
Cozies, I learned, are a subgenre of mystery where the sex and violence happened “off stage,” and the primary focus is on solving the “puzzle” of the crime. So far, so good. I did some research. Stephen D. Rogers (who knows his stuff) even wrote that cozies are “typified by Agatha Christie.” Brilliant. My books apparently had found a home; they were cozies.
But it’s not that simple.
With two completed books, I boldly went to my first writers’ convention. And a prominent agent (who also knows her stuff) promptly informed me that my books were not cozies. Her explanation was that cozies absolutely must have an amateur sleuth (sorry Poirot!) and even though I have an amateur sleuth in my character, Victoria, the presence of the handsome Inspector Riggs disqualifies my books from using the cozy title.
I did a little more research and while I couldn’t find a universal definition, most people in the cozy-loving world seemed to agree (more or less) that cozies should: 1) balance the protagonist’s personal story with the mystery, 2) contain a cat, dog, or some other adorable animal, and 3) should not contain more than two victims per book. That’s 3 strikes agaisnt me. (But only 2 strikes if you happen to consider seagulls “adorable”).
Maybe genres evolve. Maybe it’s a great big world of mysteries and we don’t always define genres the same way. That’s okay. As long as we get to read what we love.
These days, if you ask me what I write, I’ll say I write mysteries. They’re historical because they’re set in the 1950s. They’re traditional because you’ll need to sort through clues and red herrings to solve the puzzle of the crime. They’re detective mysteries because, they usually have a detective somewhere. You know, just fun, old-fashioned murder mysteries.
You can read Roger’s excellent article: From Cozy to Caper: a Guide to Mystery Genres at http://www.writing-world.com/mystery/genres.shtml. For further complications on the exact definitions of the various mystery subgenres, just ask anyone.
I’m currently reading Agatha Christie’s The Pale Horse (which is excellent!) and I noticed that it begins with a bio list of all the pertinent characters. It’s the sort of thing we expect from plays, but it can be a great cheat for mystery books as well. Keeping characters straight in a mystery isn’t hard when everyone appears at more or less the same time, but when characters drift in and out of the plot, or trickle in over time, it’s too easy to unknowing mix them up. When mysteries don’t list the characters (and they usually don’t) I generally make my own cast list as I read. Sometimes, it’s overkill, but at least I can enjoy the actual mystery as the author intended instead of some weird disjointed story caused by my unintended character swapping. For the record, I didn’t include a cast list for my first book, The Hatbox Murders, because I didn’t think about it in time, but now that I’m editing The Charlatan Murders, I’ll definitely talk to my editor about including a Cast of Characters. Maybe the rest of the Elliott Bay series will feature a hand cast list.