The Quintessential Mystery Novel

(This post originally showed up at Vintage Novels on November 7, 2014)

The Quintessential Mystery Novel.

The Unfathomable Case And The Clever Means By Which It Is Solved.

The Joy Of Having A Watson.

These things belong to the Golden Era mysteries.

Not that I have read so terribly many mysteries in my lifetime, but I have dabbled in the genre as a reader, and I’m entering it as a writer. Through my experiences, I’ve come to the conclusion that the Golden Age of the Mystery Novel was dubbed so for a reason. I have read and enjoyed some mysteries written by contemporary authors. Funny thing is, the setting always pre-dates the late 1940’s.

What on earth makes the Golden Age authors so much more to my taste than the modern writers? What key did they hold to unlock the joys of the mystery-genre for me? How can I feel that Lord Peter Wimsey and Sherlock Holmes were real people, while I have a hard time suspending reality to get my thoughts into the story-world of the modern detective? There is a certain measure of the Watson in me, or, as A.A. Milne described it, “A Watson, then, but not of necessity a fool of a Watson. A little slow, let him be, as so many of us are, but friendly, human, likeable.”

These questions bring to mind the words of P.D. James, a modern mystery writer who has made a respected name for herself in the genre:

“What we can expect is a central mysterious crime, usually a murder; a closed circle of suspects, each with motives, means, and opportunity for a crime; a detective, either amateur or professional, who comes in like an avenging deity to solve it; and, by the end of the book, a solution which the reader should be able to arrive at by logical deduction from clues inserted in the novel with deceptive cunning but essential fairness.”

The latter part of this quote is where I find the charm of the Golden Era novel: “...which the reader should be able to arrive at by logical deduction from clues inserted in the novel with deceptive cunning but essential fairness.”

Between the covers of a Golden Era novel, I can expect to find all the material I need to decipher the puzzle for myself. Which is important, because I do tend to be “a little slow, but friendly, human, likeable.” Indeed, I sometimes look crossways at Sir Arthur Conan Doyle because he so often broke that essential fairness principle. “Why yes, I could certainly have guessed the murderer from the mud on his boots if you had told us there was mud on his boots.” Nevertheless, Conan Doyle (whom we acknowledge is pre-Golden-era), Dorothy L. Sayers, Agatha Christie, G.K. Chesterton, and many others in their day managed to create something spectacular in the mystery novel: a genre that has borne the traces of time well, and shows no sign of fracturing.

My new mystery, Anon, Sir, Anon, was actually inspired by picking a random book off the library shelf. When I chose to read P.D. James on Detective Fiction, I really had no idea that the Vivi & Farnham series would be born. But at the end of that intriguing book, I had a detective character, a burgeoning plot, and pages of advice, quotes, and tips on writing a British Mystery. In a way, I had done my research before knowing what I was up to. Without that little volume, behind which is the considerable wisdom of P.D. James, I would have been at a loss over the essential components of a classic mystery. Armed with her words, I was able to try my hand at this most tantalizing of genres and I am pleased with the unexpected brain-child that resulted. I would not have succeeded, however, without keeping in mind lessons I’ve learned from the Golden Era writers.

Dorothy L. Sayers taught me that the story world must feel enormous. Perhaps what I love best about Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey stories is the breadth of experience and education in his character. You feel that, while he is dealing with a mystery, his life encompasses much more. Sayers gave him friends, acquaintances, family, money, the ability to travel, a fabulous education, war-experience, humour, class, fashion-sense, an eyeglass. Never once in the stories does the reader feel that the investigation  is all there is to Lord Peter. In fact, one can almost get a sense that he toys at it on the side, and his real occupation and attention lies elsewhere. As my friend, Jennifer Freitag has it, “An old sleight of hand. The suggestion of more beyond.” All the best Golden Era novels have this dual tone of minute, country-house introspection, and far-reaching, grand planes of intellect and experience beyond the pages of the present novel.

Agatha Christie taught me to “gently seduce (the reader) into self-deception.” No one ever said that the same set of initials belonging to one suspect (thinking of Christie’s The Mystery of the Blue Train) couldn’t belong to another heretofore unsuspected character. I tried employing a similar trick of self-deception in Anon, Sir, Anon and was delighted to find that most of my beta-readers swallowed it hook, line, and sinker The simplest bit of redirecting the reader’s attention will often have them snatching at gnats while the real deal goes quietly on in the background.

G.K. Chesterton taught me that nothing is too absurd to be impossible. The craziest solution imaginable? Sometimes it’s right. Common sense only goes so far in an official investigation and the more creative your detective, the more complex and ridiculously “I should have seen that coming” your solution can be.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle taught me that a Watson figure is indispensable. A.A. Milne (whose Red House Mystery I adored) addressed the Watson dilemma in this way:

“Are we to have a Watson? We are. Death to the author who keeps his unravelling for the last chapter, making all the other chapters but prologue to a five-minute drama. This is no way to write a story. Let us know from chapter to chapter what the detective is thinking. For this he must watsonize or soliloquize; the one is merely a dialogue form of the other, and by that, more readable.”

Conan Doyle invented Watson and in doing so, helped millions of readers who, like myself, find it hard to keep up with vague hints and slip-shod clues and need a little bit of explanation. There are many ways to spin the Watson character. Agatha Christie seems to choose a new character in each mystery, while Dorothy Sayers created Harriet Vane, Lord Peter’s love-interest. In Anon, Sir, Anon, I created Genevieve Langley: the niece of the detective, Orville Farnham. Vivi and Farnham split the roles of Sherlock and Watson just about 50-50, bringing a freshness to the role.

The Golden Era of mysteries has many tips  for writers today to glean. The stories have endured, and it’s worth discovering why. Of course there are many fine contemporary mysteries, but for me, there will always something especially delicious about a vintage whodunnit in a little English town. After all, there really is nothing like a curious trip to the not-so-distant past.

Snippets of the New Vivi & Farnham!

"Novelists who have struck a snag in the working-out of the plot are rather given to handing the problem over in this way to the clarifying action of the sub-conscious. Harriet's sub-conscious had other coffee to clear and refused quite definitely to deal with the matter..."

-Dorothy L. Sayers Have His Carcase

Most writers have periods where ill health or injury keeps them from much productivity. Most, however, don't gain said injuries from slamming the pad of their pointer finger in a metal post-office door. I have my finger bandaged up and finding that I actually can type because my pointer finger-nail is sufficiently strong and long to allow me to press the keys gingerly without intrenching on the split-open territory. I have officially begun Scotch'd The Snakes: the second Vivi & Farnham mystery. When I began Anon, Sir, Anon, I started by writing the finding-the-body sequence. This time around, I began with a letter. A letter documenting a plague of flies. It might not sound like an auspicious beginning, but it does work well, given the circumstances. I am still feeling my way into this story and haven't entirely tacked down the workings of the plot so I'm afraid you'll have to satisfy yourself with knowing that:
A.) This time it's a case of definitely-attempted-but-not-successful-murder
B.) Someone you'll love after reading Anon, Sir, Anon is a key suspect
C.) It has much to do with Scotland...after a fashion.
I've written only bits of things--none of which really have much at all to do with the actual mystery, but characters are vital so instead of actually telling you anything more about it, I've picked out some snippets of story I managed in September and I'm giving them to you today as a gift for this fine first day of October:

Dear Walter,

    The flies are horrible this time of year.

-Scotch'd The Snakes

Dear old uncle has a new play on. In times of yore, I would have thought that the same sort of thing as what Uncle Hugh meant when he said he had a new deal on. It’s not. It’s rather...well, it’s rather in the vein of feeling the approach of a sneeze and knowing a summer cold will soon follow.

-Scotch'd The Snakes

When childhood diseases came sweeping down London-town each year, Walter had always been one of the lucky few to escape the customary fortnight of bedrest. How well she remembered his impossibly healthy grin as he rode his bicycle round and round and round the garden in circles below the nursery window, and not from motives of entertaining his sick brother and girl-cousins who had all been tossed together in the sickroom like so many mismatched shoes in a car boot. No, the grin was triumphant and Walter Topham seemed to the captives a perfect bicycle-riding Alexander.

-Scotch'd The Snakes

“Considering who you are, Genevieve, you’re probably the last person I’d hit up for advice on wedded bliss.”

If he’d brought his fist into her teeth, it would have shocked her less. “That was low, Walter.” Her voice bent at the end like a twig snapped in two. “That was very low.”

Silence spread heavy wings and flapped a time or two, stirring the dim air of the chamber. Vivi dipped the cloth back into the basin and swished it in the herbed water. The tightness of being scorned knotted her breath, but quietly, deftly, Vivi wrung away the bitterness with the water and folded the cloth on the basin’s edge.

“You have been ill.” False cheer rattled the soul like bad news. “You are not yourself or you would not have said that.”

-Scotch'd The Snakes

A young woman, sturdy, free, and brazen-looking, continued her progress up the row. It did not seem to concern her that she found a stranger in her path.

It seemed the girl might pass without speaking, but Vivi smiled and addressed her: “How d’you do?”

Nipping off her pace, the young woman stopped. She bit free her glove and tucked a riding crop beneath her left arm. “Warmish day, isn’t it?” Her blue eyes seemed unafraid of raw manners as she poured curiosity over Vivi. “Sultana’s Rhombus nearly pitched me at Norton Bavant but I threw the balance forward and it ended nicely. Quite nicely. Wish there’d been an audience.”

-Scotch'd The Snakes

Could one feel a color? If so, Vivi felt quite sure she had turned a spirited shade of beet. “I’m his...cousin. Genevieve Langley.”

Delaney tossed her head in a confident laugh. “You really mustn’t mind me, darling. Walter used to dabble so, but that’s only because them other girls didn’t know how to bridle him. I do. Heaven’s gates, I do. And scarce a day goes by I don’t remind him of it. Bally men.” She took the crop from under her arm and touched the leather tassles to Vivi’s shoulder. The accompanying wink struck Vivi as friendly, which startled her. She had not thought Delaney Graham’s opinion of her very chummy. “Walk with me.”

-Scotch'd The Snakes

That Cabby Inside Me

You know what I like?

I like feeling small.

I like to read something that makes me realize I have not arrived in my writing and that I still have a long way to go. A very long way. I like to pick up a book and feel a delicious sensation of, "Oh, that's how it's done." Do you ever read books this way? I think I sometimes feel a certain healthy detachment from my work. I mean, I'm certainly proud of my skills as they are today, but I also possess (through having cultivated, learned, or just discovered it, I can't say) a rather Sir Percy Blakeney opinion of my talents. I don't mind mentally chucking aside the soon-to-be uploaded file of Anon, Sir, Anon when I pick up Dorothy Sayers' Have His Carcase. Of course I could pretend I think I'm as fine a writer as Sayers and that might sell a few more books, but I am quite happy with a conversation that goes something like this:
Reader: "You mean to say you don't think your writing is the top?"
Me: "Well of course it's the top of some things. For instance, it's the top of what it was three years ago and it is the top of certain books I've come across. But as for being the toppy-top, why this is the real ginger." (waving Carcase about)

Is it telling that I see that inner voice in my head as a 1940's journalist with his heels on the desk and a slightly flattened cabby-cap on his short buzz-cut? My inner voice presents itself many ways. This time it's a writer who looks like a cabby and smokes cigarettes in a sociable fashion. I like this fellow. You see, if one doesn't take oneself too terribly seriously, it's easier to take criticism, to view one's place in the world aright, and to improve. After having started the aforementioned novel at my brother's fiancee's house, I drove home through a monsoon of sorts and reflected on how generous my readers have been in giving Anon, Sir, Anon a fighting chance with four and even five-star ratings. Of course I don't pretend to emulate Dorothy Sayer's style, nor do I think Anon, Sir, Anon is on-par with her much-advanced skill. I can't wait for that reviewer who says, "I don't see what all the buzz is about. It's not at all as good as Agatha Christie." I am prepared to pump his hand, stuff my fists in my pockets and say with a foolish smile, "I know, right? Wasn't she amazing?"

I like feeling small.

I like knowing there is something to reach toward because how dull it would be to have arrived. "Oh look, Mount Amazingness has been reached. Recomputing purpose in career." I don't have a problem admitting that my skill-set is far from complete and it excites me to notice how far I've come since Fly Away Home, and by next book, how far I'll have come since Anon, Sir, Anon. Not that I've actually researched this phenomena, but I could almost guarantee that most famous authors see their early books as stepping-stones to even better things. I will always love each of my books and there is no reason to be ashamed of something you wrote being...younger. We can be glad we no longer behave as we did at fourteen, but does that mean there was something wrong with behaving fourteen...as a fourteen year-old? In the same way, I don't think that, down the road, I'll want to apologize for the lack of sage wisdom and effortless skill in Fly Away Home. It was a freshman novel and a very good introduction at that. We'll stop badgering the poor darling for not being Anna Karenina.

I am off to enjoy me (now cold) cup of tea and forge my way through the deliciousness that is Have His Carcase. On this visit, I learned that my sister-in-law's parents have a plethora of Agatha Christies and Dorothy Sayers and P.G. Wodehouse--pretty nearly any title I could want. They put my library to shame. I told you that I would have the vlog up. Well, I have it done...it is trying to publish and because it is *gulp* eighteen minutes long (you guys asked a lot of questions!) and my family's internet connection moves at glacial pace (you know how it thrills me), it is on it's second try and only 11% rendered. Snap. So you will probably get the vlog tomorrow morning. For now, go enjoy this rainy officially-fall day by letting yourself read a book for pleasure's sake.

Laters!

(Also, I have this weird urge to try to draw my sisters and myself as Disney-inspired caricatures. O.o)

Elisabeth G. Foley: Eight Little Known Mysteries

Elisabeth Foley and I have a long-standing blogging relationship. I can't really remember exactly when it began, because it began on her end. For a long time, she would be a faithful commenter on The Inkpen Authoress, and finally I began to reciprocate the favor on her blog, The Second Sentence. From there, she became an invaluable source of knowledge on independent publishing and mystery-writing, which is why she is now The One on whom I am going to rely much while editing and polishing Anon, Sir, Anon. Elisabeth has released three of her Mrs. Meade Mysteries as e-books and now we non-Kindle-ers (that is a word of my own fabrication) have the chance to own all three in one lovely paperback volume!

Meet Mrs. Meade, a gentle but shrewd widow lady with keen insight into human nature and a knack for solving mysteries. Problems both quaint and dramatic find her in Sour Springs, a small town in Colorado at the turn of the twentieth century. Here in Volume One are her first three adventures, novelette-length mysteries previously published individually. In The Silver Shawl, a young woman has disappeared from the boarding-house where she lives—was she kidnapped, or did she have a reason to flee? In The Parting Glass, Mrs. Meade puzzles over the case of a respectable young man accused of drunkenly assaulting a woman. And in The Oldest Flame, Mrs. Meade’s visit with old friends turns to disaster with a house fire that may have been deliberately set. Quick and entertaining forays into mystery and times past, each story is just the perfect length to accompany a cup of tea or coffee for a cozy afternoon.

You can purchase said paperback version from Amazon and Createspace! 

Today, I've had Elisabeth drop by to recommend some lesser-known mysteries because, while Sayers, Christie, and Conan Doyle are all masters of the craft, there are other authors who know how to spin a whodunnit! And as I mentioned before, Elisabeth is rather an aficionado of the mystery trade. Let us welcome Miss Foley:

Eight Mysteries of Which You May Never Have Heard

By Elisabeth Grace Foley

Before I began writing mysteries, I read mysteries. I started very early with the Boxcar Children series—all nineteen of the original books. From there I progressed to Nancy Drew, then Sherlock Holmes, and really made the break into classic mystery when I read Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. Though, as you can see, I’m very fond of the acknowledged classics, I’ve also found great pleasure in stumbling upon some rare or obscure mysteries which turned out to be hidden gems.

So here, for your enjoyment, is a list of my favorites in this category. Some of them are chiefly remarkable for their unique setting or style, but many are fantastic mysteries in their own right. A couple of them have made scholarly lists of the greatest mysteries, but they seem to be much lesser-known in a popular sense. I know I’d never heard of any of them before I stumbled across them in the last year or two. Have you?

The Bellamy Trial by Frances Noyes Hart

This 1927 mystery novel is just brilliantly constructed. Told from the perspective of two young reporters, a girl and a man, covering a sensational murder trial, the whole book takes place in and around the courtroom. The case is gradually unfolded, layer by layer, through the interrogation of witnesses and presentation of new evidence. You won’t be able to put it down once you start!

Uncle Abner, Master of Mysteries by Melville Davisson Post

This collection of short stories has been compared to Chesterton’s Father Brown mysteries, and I think the comparison is apt, even though on the surface the detectives are polar opposites: Father Brown is a small, mild, English Catholic priest; Uncle Abner a big, stalwart American Protestant, a landowner in rural Virginia of the early 1800s. Yet as in Chesterton, Abner's Christian faith is at the root of his strong belief in justice, which drives him to find the correct solutions to crimes. Post’s writing is just beautiful, and the stories gripping and unique. Highly recommended.

Green For Danger by Christianna Brand

Not only a great mystery, but one of the best WWII novels I’ve read. The setting is a hospital in the English countryside, the victim an air-raid casualty, the suspects the attending doctors and nurses—both clues and motives are detailed and complicated. The vivid evocation of wartime conditions may be owing to the fact that Brand wrote it in the thick of the Blitz, living near the real hospital where her doctor husband worked and sharing the nurses’ bomb shelter. (Also highly worth watching is the 1946 film version, which presents a boiled-down but intact version of the plot, and a hilariously brilliant performance by Alastair Sim as Inspector Cockrill.)

The Red House Mystery by A.A. Milne

One can only wish that Milne had written more mysteries! This one is very much in the classic English-country-house mold, quite decently puzzling and told with all of Milne’s signature sprightly wit and humor. For me, that’s an irresistible combination. (My favorite line: “When a gentleman goes to Australia, he has his reasons.”)

The Golden Cat by Max Brand

I was tickled to discover that Brand, known as the king of Western pulp magazine writers, had actually written a locked-room murder mystery set in the West—in a ruined hacienda complete with ghostly legend, with a half-dozen likely suspects and a shrewd sheriff for detective (whom the narrator both aids and tries to mislead). Those not familiar with Brand might take some time getting used to his style (the book originated as a magazine serial, which might account for the plot veering off in different directions now and then), but it’s a very creditable attempt at a whodunit for a non-mystery author, with the Western setting making it fun.

Was it Murder? (a.k.a. Murder at School) by James Hilton

Hilton, best known as the author of such novels as Random Harvest, Lost Horizon and Goodbye, Mr. Chips, took a stab at writing a detective novel too—his only mystery, I believe, published under a pseudonym. It takes place in a setting that Hilton and readers of Mr. Chips would know well: a boys’ boarding-school. After two students, brothers, perish in suspicious “accidents,” leaving an inheritance to one of the faculty, an amateur-detective alumni steps in to investigate. Experienced mystery-readers might guess at the solution, but it’s a charmingly written take on the classic English murder mystery.

The Golden Slipper and Other Problems for Violet Strange by Anna Katharine Green

This collection of loosely connected short stories has a clever premise: Violet Strange, a wealthy young woman of Edwardian high society, secretly assists a professional detective with delicate cases—investigating where class barriers prevent a detective from going, or in cases involving only women, where a man cannot go. There’s also the lingering question all through the stories, which is resolved in the final one: Why does a high-class, wealthy young woman need to earn money by doing detective work in secret?

Chronicles of Joe Müller, Detective by Auguste Groner

Just when I thought I was running out of old-time mysteries to read, I discovered this collection. These short mysteries (about the length of my own Mrs. Meade adventures) were originally written in German. Joe Müller is a member of the Imperial Austrian Police, an unassuming and diffident man but a brilliant detective. The characters and mystery plots are very well done, and the setting of pre-WWI Vienna hooked me from the first paragraph.

But wait, what am I doing? If you go and read all of these, when will you ever have time to read the Mrs. Meade Mysteries? Ah, but that’s the thing about mystery readers—we can never get enough. I’ve read through the complete Sherlock Holmes and Father Brown and almost everything Agatha Christie wrote, and I’m still as eagerly on the lookout as ever for another good mystery. If you’re anything like me, I’m sure you feel the same way.

 (Rachel's Note: I, for one, wish  I had access to all these mysteries. I have read The Red House Mystery and loved it. But the others sound so good and have interesting backgrounds. For instance, did you know that Christianna Brand is the author of the children's book, Nurse Matilda, on which the film Nanny McPhee was based? These all sound so good!)

 Also, Elisabeth is giving away a copy of her collection and a set of Mrs. Meade bookmakers so please enter the giveaway below. :)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

One Week More!

In exactly one week, Fly Away Home will be available for purchase! I'm getting rather excited and I know you are too, so cheers for that. I don't know what I expected would happen when my "career" finally got going, but I find that if I had the leisure, I could definitely make it a full-time job. By that, I mean hours-wise; I am not naive enough to suppose I'll make enough money with which to support myself. My days have shaken down into a fairly predictable pattern, which is good:

I set my alarm for 7:00 (working my way down to 6:30 but it's still so dark I haven't the heart to leave my bed) then get up, read my Bible, work out, shower and then head downstairs for breakfast, family devotions, and chores. My writing works starts when the family responsibilities are done and continues till lunch which is around one o'clock; we have lunch and more chores and then I head back up for more work till three o'clock or so when I fold my computer in relief and pick up a book (reading through Eric Mextaxas biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer) or go for a walk, reply to letters or generally emerge from the Lair. By five, I join the rest of the house in cleaning up from the school day and start making dinner; the evening is for family activities and relaxation.

"Work", of course, is dictated by changing things; sometimes I'll have interviews to fill out, guest posts to write, or bloggers to query about these things. Other times I will need to reply to emails, work on my own blogging, research, or catch up on other writing blogs. And of course there is the subject of actual writing which I find essential to being a writer.

Anon, Sir, Anon is nearing the 30,000 word mark which doesn't seem like a lot, I know. For me, however, it is quite satisfactory, as I had to give up The Baby in confusion after only 21,000, hoping to rework it in the future. I have fed the book so far in installments to a friend who appeared to find my chapter endings cliff-hanging enough to keep asking for the next bit rather incessantly. Unfortunately, she has nibbled through all ten of the finished chapters which means I need to keep at it if I'm to avoid having myself assassinated. Her reactions so far, though, have been satisfactory, so all is well. I let quite a few people read Fly Away Home to help me get it ready for publication, but because Anon, Sir, Anon is a mystery, I am going to keep the circle of beta-readers very small. "Keep it secret, keep it safe." I don't want to spoil the mystery for my readers. Believe me, it'll be for your own good!

What is up in your writing life? New projects? Difficulties? I want to hear about them. I love a good row.

"Shall the devil do his own investigating?"

In writing a mystery, I am biting off a piece of work with which I am none too familiar. That being admitted, I am in need of as much advice on the matter as I can possibly get. When reading P.D. James on Detective Fiction, I copied out several pages of quotes which are standing me in good stead when I get a bit muddled. My courage is particularly bolstered by such passages as:

"Miss Sayers did nothing in her life by halves. Having decided to earn some much-needed money by writing detective fiction, she applied her mind to the history, technique and possibilities of the genre. Being highly intelligent, opinionated, and combative, she had no hesitation in giving other people the advantage of her views."

I also find her commentary on the "golden era of detective fiction" quite interesting:

"These novels are, of course, paradoxical. They deal with violent death and violent emotions, but they are novels of escape. We are required to feel no real pity for the victim, no empathy for the murderer, no sympathy for the falsely accused. For whomever the bell tolls, it doesn't toll for us. Whatever our secret terrors, we are not the body on the library floor. And in the end, by the grace of Poirot's little grey cells, all will be well--except of course with the murderer, but he deserves all that's coming to him. All the mysteries will be explained, all the problems solved, and peace and order will return to that mythical village which, despite its above-average homicide rate, never really loses its tranquility."

In writing Anon, Sir, Anon, I am combining a bit of this golden-era flavor with reality. By that, I mean that while it is a "cozy" mystery, I feel that you will get to understand a bit of the gravity of the situation that more modern mysteries provide. All is not well and at the end of the book all cannot be well because something has changed and someone has died. Another quote from P.D. James gives you a bit of what I mean:

"I find it interesting that the detective hero, originated by Conan Doyle, has survived and is still at the heart of the story, like a secular priest, expert in the extraction of confession, whose final revelation of truth confers a vicarious absolution on all but the guilty."

Being that Farnham is a Christian, there is a deeper aspect of the plot. Christianity holds life more precious than anyone else and cutting it short is more vile a thing even than the world admits...an interesting angle to play and I'm enjoying the challenge.Well now. Off I go back to my writing; I'll leave you to ponder the above quotes and see what you think of them.

"I'm quite the hound, you know. I like a bit of the hue-and-cry."

"This isn't a day for 'um'."

Tomorrow is the big Fly Away Home cover reveal day! I have many fellow writing-blogs set up to help celebrate the occasion and there will be a giveaway starting tomorrow morning. Stay tuned--it's a rather jolly prize you could be winning. I can't wait for all of you to see the cover and finally let that cat out of its bag.

And after introducing a certain character, I want a bloodhound.

Since finishing formatting FAH, I have been steadily picking away at Anon, Sir, Anon. I am giving myself license this time to write the first draft without fretting too much as to whether the action arrives quickly enough or whether conversations ought to be shorter or anything. I have never written a mystery so I am not expecting over-much out of this first draft except a good first telling of the story. That being said, I am rather fond of what I've come up with so far. I have said before that I am a "pantser" when it comes to writing novels, but of course a mystery requires the author to know what she is about before starting the process. Much thought has gone into this mystery but there are details upon which I am negotiable. As I sat down to write today, one of the issues resolved itself in a lovely way and I am thankful for an early scene that can be used later on if need be. There's this scene in National Treasure where the bad guy (Ian - love him) says to the main character:

"Here's the thing about playing poker, Ben: sometimes you've got to be holding all the cards."

(Then the camera flashes to Abigail, Riley, and Ben's dad who are all being held hostage by Ian). When you're writing a mystery, you have this lovely sense of superiority because you get to hold all the cards. You start the novel knowing all those vital questions (Who/What/When/Where/Why), and the mystery-writer's job is to disperse the cards all through the novel. It is up to each writer's taste as to how those cards are played; some writers like to make the mystery solvable so that the reader will be able to figure it out. Others like to mystify everyone until the very last scene when they lay it all out and the reader backs away blinking and a little stunned. I won't tell you which version I am going for. Getting to hold the cards is a responsibility, though. It means that if I play my cards wrong, I could spill the answer to the riddle in a way that ruins the story. It means that every line counts because every line could be a clue to the final solution. Which kinda makes it a really fun read. :)

I'm having a jolly time and I hope the book continues to go as well as it currently is. 13,371 words in and we've only just seen the body. (Aren't I charmingly chirpy and optimistic so early on?)  I've also got the added interest of introducing the two detectives to each other and building up that relationship. Fun fun!

How do you like your mysteries? "Deductable" or "Entirely Stumping"?

Wrapping up the Mystery

Congratulations on Una Mariah winning the giveaway for The Game's Afoot Inspiration Plaque! I know the Rafflecopter also says that Leah W won, but that is an error on Rafflecopter's part - it keeps displaying two winners; Una was the first so I have emailed her and will be sending her prize next week!

I hope you enjoyed reading all the mystery-related posts in this Utterly Baffled blog party! I wish I could extend the fun and keep going, but you would soon have a missing persons case on your hand instead of a blog party because I'm off to save the country by way of campaigning for Ken Cuccinelli for Governor during these last five days before election. I love being on the ground working for things I believe in! So anyway, campaigning doesn't leave time for sleep, much less writing blog posts. ;)

Thank you to all who participated in the party! It wouldn't have been half as fun without you. Thanks for being patient and lovely with my sporadic posting schedule, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have! I am going to leave you with a hilarious song that Elizabeth Grace Foley sent me via Twitter. Watch it, love it, and have a wonderful weekend!

The Utterly Baffled Tag

All right! No blog party is complete without a tag that you can take back with you to your own blogs, so I've concocted a tag for you with quite a lot of intriguing questions! The rules are simple: Fill out the questions of your own blog and come back here and comment to tell me you've done your post so the rest of us can run over and check it out! Also, thanks a million to all those who have entered Chatterbox! We have 13 entries to this blog event in its first month of life so I think it's been a rousing success! Now, on to the questions. I have answered them below as well!

1.) You are writing a mystery novel and decide to base the detective off of one of your writing friends: who do you choose?
2.) If you and the best of your writing-blog friends were living out a mystery, which of you would be most likely to end up as the victim?
3.) If you decided to write a mystery (or if, on the other hand, you do write mysteries) would your style fall under thriller, terror, literary, historical or cozy?
4.) Who is your favorite mystery-author?
5.) What is the best mystery you've ever read?
6.) If you were going to be in charge of solving a mystery, where would you want it to be set and what would the circumstances be?
7.) You walk into a library and find a body on the floor. Your first reaction:
8.) Your second reaction:
9.) What do you say when the policeman tells you that you are the prime suspect in the murder?
10.) How does your answer effect the powers that be?
11.) Agatha Christie and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle walk into one of those Solve the Murder Dinner Theatres and sit down and start to spoil the fun by solving all the mysteries before anyone else and shouting the answers to the crowd: do you retaliate and if so, how?
12.) Post a quote from your favorite mystery//mystery author:

1.) You are writing a mystery novel and decide to base the detective off of one of your writing friends: who do you choose? This is actually an uber-easy question. I would choose Mirriam Neal because come to think of it, she would be a truly original personality for a sleuth. Actually, she'd make an awesome detective - one everybody would love to read about because she's just a mixture of Too Darn Cute & Impossibly Clever. Abigail Hartman would be a close runner-up because she's methodical and observant and rational which (as far as the method and perhaps rationality goes) Mirriam is not.
2.) If you and the best of your writing-blog friends were living out a mystery, which of you would be most likely to end up as the victim? Oh! Let me think for a sec....hummm....there would probably be an attempt on Jenny's life first, but I think that she'd surprise the villain by being rather unkillable. Thus, I think the first victim would be Katelyn Sebelko (poor darling!!) because there is no reason anyone would want to harm her, and that would make the mystery so complex.
3.) If you decided to write a mystery (I am) would your style fall under thriller, terror, literary, historical, or cozy? Cozy, definitely. Also loosely historical. I doubt it will ever become strictly historical albeit the mystery happens in the 1930's, but it will likely deal loosely with historical events as they pop up in the natural timeline of my character's Life & Times.
4.) Who is your favorite mystery author? Oh gee. I have really enjoyed what of Dorothy Sayers's Lord Peter Wimsey stories I've read and then again, the little of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot novels, but as far as being able to speak authoritatively on a broad scale, I'll have to stick with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
5.) What is the best mystery you've ever read? Hmmmm. I would have to say The Five Orange Pips by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle because I kinda have a thing for unsolved mysteries. And as far as being somewhat of a mystery, though not really qualifying, I adore The Scarlet Pimpernel and I didn't know the YOU KNOW WHAT was YOU KNOW HIM in the final scenes. So it qualifies in my book.
6.) If you were going to be in charge of solving a mystery, where would it be set and what would the circumstances be? Oodalolly. It would be set in...in...the Lake District of England/Scotland and the circumstances would be that a body was found in broad daylight sitting upright in a rowboat moored in the middle of the lake. It would seem easy to solve except for the fact that there was a fishing competition that day and not a single person of all 50 competitors saw the boat moved into place. Furthermore, news footage of the event doesn't show it either.
7.) You walk into the library and find a body on the floor. Your first reaction: I would freeze on the threshold of the room and get very quiet. My heart would sink and I'd tip-toe over and probably prod the body with my foot (assuming it was facedown) to try to see who the heck it was and whether he was really dead or simply in a swoon.
8.) Your second reaction: I would perch on the edge of the desk, heart pounding, trying to sort out who to tell and how on earth the murder was committed. Then I realize the murderer might still be in the room and I scuttle off to phone the police.
9.) What do you say when the policeman tells you that you are the prime suspect in the murder? "Murder I might write, but I would never commit murder. I'm a christian, first of all, and secondly, I'd never be brave enough. Besides--I don't hate him; I don't even know him!" (Notice I would be flustered and not thinking coherently or cleverly."
10.) How does your answer effect the powers that be? Oh, they'd think I was sassing them and lob me off toward the station. Abigail Taylor would bail me out because she always does bail me out of everything else, and eventually my name would be cleared even though evidence of my shoe had been found on the body. (Note to self: never prod a prostrate form with your foot, okay?)
11.) Agatha Christie and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle walk into one of those Solve the Murder Dinner Theatres and sit down and start to spoil the fun by solving all the mysteries before anyone else and shouting the answers to the crowd: do you retaliate and if so, how? I would at first be annoyed, but upon recognizing who it was, I'd probably sit there laughing helplessly and thinking what a fine blog post it would make, and then I'd edge closer and strike up an acquaintance and possibly go out for icecream with them afterward.
12.) Post a quote from your favorite mystery author:(AH! So many from which to choose!)
"It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly, one begins to twist facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts."

-Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Well that was jolly good fun. I hope you join in, as I'm eager to read your answers to these questions. Toodle-pip and cheers, everyone. I've got to go be useful now since breakfast is almost ready.

Write Your Own Christie Contest!

//source//

I happened to pop over to agathachristie.com to look up a few facts to another Utterly Baffled post when I saw this contest advertised on the site: Write Your Own Christie

Essentially, springing from the opening scenes from A Murder is Announced, there is going to be a chance every single month to collaborate on a "new" Christie murder; each month a chapter will be chosen by the panel of judges as the next installment in this new novel. The funny thing is, this novel will end up being a pieced-together affair with chapters written by different people all over the world, yet because of how to contest is set up, it will be cohesive and brilliant! For the successive chapters, you will need to read all the chapters written and "published" so far on the site to keep up with the proper clues and mystery. One winner (one chapter) will be chosen each month, and the winners will be invited to a special dinner at the end of the ten-month contest with the judges, among whom is Agatha Christie's grandson! 

The deadline for the first chapter is tonight at midnight.

Ha.

Rum thing...I might actually try out. Remember there's a chance every month to win! :D

If you are interested in this fascinating little contest, you may check out the rules and registration here. If you want to read the opening scenes on which Chapter One must be based, please head here. 

And if you're stuck there thinking, "Well heavens, THIS is a stupid idea," then I will just inform you different with this little paragraph:

      In 1931, in a literary game of Consequences, Agatha Christie and thirteen other members of the 
Detection Club contributed a chapter (and a proposed solution) to a collaborative detective novel 
ultimately called The Floating Admiral. 

So there and humph. 

Entry costs nothing, so will you dare and take the chance with me by midnight? ;)

Utterly Baffled: A mysterious blog party!

First  of all, I wanted to announce that the winner of Elizabeth Ender's book, Ransomed, is Emily Chapman! Emily, I will send Elizabeth your email address and you two can discuss how best to get your prize to you. Thank you to all who entered and congratulations to Emily. Now we get to have fun and hjinks with the official start to my Utterly Baffled Blog Party. I have no official cut-off date for this party; it is a mystery! (Bwaha. Do you see what I did there? HoHO)

As I said in my Introductory Post , this party will be full of tips on writing mysteries, some of my favorite mystery authors, quotes, pictures, tips, a little bit of everything. Last night I sat down to make a prize for the giveaway....I very specifically wanted a really cool prize and I wanted it to be handmade in The Warren. You know how much fun it is to sit down and make something come out just right? Well that happened.

In a couple hours I had created a prize specifically for this giveaway that I know you will all be dying to win:

When inspiration is burning, you're writing like a fiend, and you're not quite certain you want people barging in, forget a "Do Not Disturb" sign; telling all and sundry "The game is afoot" is so much classier. Think about it: Shakespeare started the trend and Sherlock Holmes took it up. You can join in their footsteps with this lovely, decoupaged wooden plaque.

Okay. Admit it. It's even more adorable with the tiny little magnifying glass inspecting one of my old earrings, right? I think so. And this Sherlock Holmes-inspired bit of nicety could be yours if you enter the giveaway below! In The Warren, I would price this at $25, so you are getting a wonderful chance to have it free! Details for entry are all in the Rafflecopter form at the bottom of the post.

Noir Rachel & Cricket

I found myself swarmed over by Cricket as I was taking photos for this post...hence the blog party photo obscured by the curve of her tail. (Which actually ended up working out nicely so you're not hearing me complain.) She's such a....I don't even know what she is. A pickle? She insists on sitting right where she's not wanted and likes to lay over my shoulders like a mink stole. A live one.

Silly cat.

Well, well, well. If you want to enter for a chance to win the Sherlock Holmes-Inspired Door Hanger, all the information is below. If not, then I think you're a wee bit silly but I suppose you might have your reasons. All people do, it seems.

Genevieve looked at the forbidding knocker--a leopard’s head with the teeth bared to admit an iron ring--and a certain stubbornness peculiar to her nature cropped up: she would not be put off by some jumped-up actor who went about nailing furious leopards to his front door.

-Anon, Sir, Anon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Anon, Sir, Anon

   "The fireplace, the butler, and a wing chair stood at the opposite end of the room: a tribunal of domestic comfort that had assembled to judge this intruder of their peace. In the wing chair sat a man she could take to be none other than Mr. Orville Farnham. He looked at her and fingered his chin, eyes slitted consideringly."                                                          -Anon, Sir, Anon

I am here to inform you that The Baby is taking a nap until the new year. There are some exciting things ahead for me, my writing, and this blog, and I decided that writing The Baby requires all or nothing -- it doesn't thrive under pie-crust promises and a kisses. Just like a real kid takes all a parent's concentration, The Baby wants an iron fist.I cannot spare an iron fist until the new year so though I'm not sacking The Baby for eternity, it is removed to the side for a good long nap so I can stop worrying about it and focus on the things on which I need to work.
Having cleared that aside, it is time to introduce you to the new brain-child I mentioned very briefly last post. Anon, Sir, Anon, is my new project at 3500 words in the main document, plus a few here-and-theres in my writing notebook. The first in a potential series of concerning niece-uncle detective pair Vivi & Farnham, Anon, Sir, Anon is a 1930's murder mystery set in Northamptonshire, England:

Shakespearean actor and private detective Orville Farnham has been confined to his home, Whistlecreig, by doctor's orders. The extended family sends a niece, Genevieve Langley, to play nursemaid in order to get her off their hands, as Vivi was voted Most Unlikely To Make A Brilliant Marriage. Farnham is none too pleased with the prospect of a female intruding on his life at Whistlecreig.When a murder occurs within a constrained space of time and leaves a small pool of suspects--each with excellent alibis--Farnham is called and Vivi finds herself entangled as one of the last witnesses to see the beautiful actress, Lillian Bertois, alive. It is soon evident that not only does Vivi have a penchant for being present at crucial moments, she has a liberal dose of brains that are put to use in assisting her uncle with solving the mysterious death of the woman in the blue cloche.

To set the things off, I've made a few graphics of some of the cast! Just remember that they are arranged in no order of importance. I won't give you any sort of hint that might set you off on your own conclusions. Not yet. This is a mystery and I'm going to start it off properly by saying that I will play fair--all the necessary bits will be in place--but you won't figure it out till you read the book.

 

As time goes on I'll be making more of these graphic things because they're just so much fun. And I can't really think of anything that goes with Farnham better than a big fat armchair and his intense energy exemplified in one of his favorite phrases. He's a man of impeccable character, ever polite but always having the last word. For the next week I'll be doing a series of posts on detective fiction (and a giveaway!) to celebrate the start of the new regime of Vivi & Farnham. Over the next while as I write this book, you'll grow to love them, I'm sure. I am looking forward to introducing you to life at Whistlecreig, writing detective fiction, and so many more wonderful things. Stick around and if you want to start a conversation on Twitter, Facebook, or any other social media, use the hashtag: ViviandFarnham. See you around!

"Stands the church clock at ten to three?
And is there arsenic still for tea?"

A Feeling in my Bones

Naturally, as The Scarlet-Gypsy Song nears an end I begin to think of my Next Project. The Traveler will not be it. That book is a fanciful, whimsical book--it shall not succumb to being pinned down as a W.I.P. It wants to be worked on in spurts and darts and dashes and so it shall. Madeleine is not thrashed out, nor is Rockingham Shambles. I am not done with research for my French Revolution novel. So what's next? What will jump forth from my pen in the months to come?

I am not certain yet.

I am not certain, and yet I have a sort of Feeling in my Bones. This feeling has nothing to do with children, strangely enough. It has everything to do with this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this scribble I did up last Fall.

I have an idea something precious might come out of it all. :)