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This is, what we have come to call, a Cyberbook. It is patterned afterthe layout of a traditional paper printed book. This document containsall of the text and does not require hyperlinking to any other documents.You can start with theTable Of Contents, or get a quick tour of the cyberbook by reading the Preface: "One Author, Lightly Grilled".The chapters of this Cyberbook are also divided into Sections. Part 0: "Where It All Began"starts with a history of the mystery. Part 1: "The Successful Killer Is Flexible And Open-Minded"features the various methods of madness authors use to be-devil us all.Part 2: "You, Too, Can Be A Cold-Blooded Killer!"gives one a unique perspective on crime.Part 3: "So You Want To Be A Writer? Or Are You Just Having A Bad Day?"has a few choice words to say about the life of an Author.Part 4: "Everyone Gets In On The Act, Because Murder Is Fun!"shows you what happens when we all finally get our hands on a mystery.
Of course, if you don't want to jump to any of those directly, you canalways just scroll down and start reading.
-- Bob Foster
We'd like to dedicate this hyperbook to, and recognize the crucial help of,well, us.
Without us, this cyberbook would not have been possible.
But seriously, this work is dedicated to all the cyber-sleuths, and regularones also, who are entranced by, intrigued with, and otherwise caught up inthe world of the Mystery novel.
-- Polly Whitney
-- Robert K. Foster
I first became aware of the content of this "hyperbook" when I joined theDorothyLlistserv group on the Internet. I downloaded a file, fromthe listserver, called GENRES DEFINED. It contained a number of postingsmade by Polly Whitney which are now part of this document.
I found manyof them to be absolutely hilarious and suggested to Polly, via email,that they would make a great World Wide Web(WWW) hypertext document.Thankfully, she agreed to having me format the postings, and other writings,into what has now become this "Cyberbook".
So here, for your reading pleasure, is our Cyberbook.For full-tilt satire on your favorite Mystery subjects, read on.I hope you enjoy this hyperbook as much as we did in putting it together. 8^)
-- Bob Foster.
Cops are never happy when they find themselves forced to arrest anauthor, especially one whose specialty is CUDDLING UP WITH A WARM, FUZZY MURDERER.In fact, as repulsive as it may seem, many mystery writers go sofar as to DATE MURDERERS, and so these writers necessarily are not good bets to help the cops.Besides that, mystery writers know all about WHAT TO DO UNTIL THE COPS ARRIVEand NO-NOs AT THE CRIME SCENE. In fact, you just can't trust someone whowrites mystery novels to stay out of trouble by having WRITER'S BLOCK.They're always way too knowledgeable, because research is just part of A DAY IN THE WRITING LIFE. Authors like to stay about five steps ahead ofthe cops at all times.
Like their fictional characters, however -- EVEN POISONERS HAVE BAD DAYS-- mystery writers sometime slip up. They don't know what to saywhen the cops ask "WHERE WERE YOU WHEN THE VICTIM GOT IT?" They can be intimidated by THE FOUR-MINUTE DETECTIVE who, in the presence of a grisly homicide, wants to give the author A QUIZon just what happened and whodunit, especially if the murder weapon was liftedFROM THE DESK OF A VACATIONING CRITIC and the author has recently perpetrated a LETTER TO THE EDITOR.
A smart-mouthed author will often try to buy time while cooking up adecent alibi by indulging in light banter with the cops or by giving them A LEARNED DISQUISITION ON POLICE PROCEDURES.And any mystery writer worth the paper her books are printed on can stallby explaining to the cops WHY HISTORY IS NECESSARY, which makes the cops so mad they want to put the author into a LOCKED ROOMand throw away the key. But, authors tend to know their rights, even if they're NOT SO COCKSURE ABOUT THE LEGAL THRILLER.WHEN THE CLUES ARE BLOWIN' IN THE WIND, the author can even resort to such cowardly and self-serving behavior asblaming the crime on THE SINS OF THE READER. When it becomes absolutelyclear that readers have iron-clad alibis -- being halfway across thecontinent at the time of the murder, the really inventive author has nodifficulty explaining how WE GOT FROM THERE TO HERE WITHOUT A JET.Mystery writers can pull any kind of rotten, slimy trick they like,because they've all read the master trickster and have committtedSHAKESPEAREAN MYSTERIES to memory. It doesn't get any more devious than that, plotwise.
From the BIG INNING of the interrogation, to the small hours of the morning when THE BIG CONCRETE APPLE is served for breakfast with bad coffeein styrofoam cups, the cops never have a real fighting chance. Afterseveral sweaty hours grilling the talkative author, who might as well weara neon sign that says THE INFORMATION DESK IS OPEN, the cops come away fromthe experience with the odd feeling that they don't exist unless the authoris speaking about them.
That's because, THE STOCKROOM MANAGERS in that great publishing housein the sky have dealt the author all the good cards. The author is, ofcourse, guilty as charged, but she'll never see the inside of apenitentiary or a witness stand.
Unless she has a press pass.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who's been there, done that, and is still here.
I'm just taking a moment out of writing my third mystery novel, havingmanaged to claw my way through some of the duct tape binding my fingersto the keyboard so I can't switch programs, and I wish to share with yousomething I experienced while on an especially good Tylenol high.
In the garden of Eden, Eve broke off a branch from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. She then scratched in the earth the following words: "I suspect Adam of watching my every move. I may have to get him before he gets me. There are few weapons around here, but maybe I can devise a way to make Adam take a fall."
Lascaux, France, is the site of cave texts indicating that hunters have developed their technology to the point that one of the more brilliant of the lot paints on the walls of his cave the story of how he had knocked off his wife with a pair of antlers. Although many scholars have been startled, puzzled, and awed by the cave paintings, we in the mystery field recognize the oldest story: conjugal termination and the need to brag about it.
(See Adam and Eve above)
The Greeks anticipate Edgar Allan Poe's "The Purloined Letter" by placing their huge secret right in the open in the Trojan parlor, so to speak, so that nobody imagines that the wooden horse under their noses is anything but a nice piece of Greek decorative art. Had the Trojans read Poe, history might have shown us a decidedly different set of broken statues in museums.
Pontius Pilate washes his hands in public, removing his fingerprints. Scribes mistake his action for a metaphor, thus delaying an important detection tool for centuries.
I, Claudius, through a simple inversion of the customary manner of referring to monarchs by name and numeral, invents the first person narrator.
St. Augustine, because he deliberately chose to write in Latin, invents what will become a convention in mystery writing, particularly as practiced in cozies: the misleading confession. see Cozies.
After centuries of relative darkness in mystery writing, thousands of French words are introduced into English at the Battle of Hastings in 1066, including "Georges Simenon," "Leetle grey cells," "guillotine," "poison du jour," "Marquis de Sade," "vicious cad," "assassin," "homicide" (then an adjective), and "etre au courant," meaning to have a clue.
In 1588, the defeat of the Spanish Armada by the smaller, swifter, more manageable, and more intelligently commanded English fleet becomes the first example of the female private detective in mystery (and seafaring) history.
Shakespeare invents Noir fiction by writing into Hamlet's lines that the Prince is wearing an "inky cloak" and "customary suits of black."
By the time Abraham Lincoln delivers the Gettysburg Address, which was written on the back of an envelope, formal mystery writing is in full swing on both sides of the Atlantic. The envelope represents the first blurb, especially those immortal words "The world will little note nor long remember what we say here."
The August, 1995, issue of GQ displays on its cover a picture of Jean-Claude Van Damme in full flex, adding considerably to the actor's nonmarital fame. The same issue of the magazine contains a special 31-page section on the cheesiness of America, in which the editors list Mr. Van Damme, along with Ivana Trump, under "Imported Cheese." The latest mystery genre is thus invented. We'll call it "WHODUNWHICH?"
"[Van Damme] has passed his external check -- the blood on hisface is not real. He has passed his internal check -- he will notbe needing any of the intravenous drip solution he keeps on hand." Alan Richman GQ
Submitted by Polly Whitney, proud to be part of a tradition as oldas dirt.
All of us who profess an interest in mysteries, themurder kind or the universe kind, must at some pointhave wondered just exactly what influence Shakespearehad on both kinds. He influenced everything else, sowhy not examine the modern murder mystery to capturehis living spirit, his universal genius, and his giftfor invention in language. Plus, we can steal ideas fromhim, which is only fair since he stole all HIS ideas.
MRS. POLONIUS ON THE CHINA STATION, Dorothy Gilman
PARNELL, PARNELL, WHEREFORE ART THOU PARNELL? Juliet Hall
BLOCKS, STONES, WORSE THAN USELESS THINGS, Ceasar Grisham
LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST; CALL NICK VELVET, Edward D. Hoch
THE MERRY WIVES OF MAGGODY, Joan Hathaway
TO BE OR NOT TO BE THE THIN MAN, Dashiell Hamlet
A IS FOR AS YOU LIKE IT, An Interactive Mystery by Sue Grafton
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF WEST 35TH STREET, Rex Stout
THE QUALITY OF MERCY, an unpublished manuscript by Robert James Waller
MEASURE FOR MEASURE, EWWW!, Patricia Cornwell
FRIENDS, ROMANS, COUNTRYMEN, Camilla Crespi
SMILLA'S SENSE OF THE WINTER'S TALE, Peter Hoegh
ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE, AND THESE BONES WERE MADE FOR DANCIN', Annette Meyers
THIS ROUGH MAGIC, David Copperfield
THE REST IS SILENCE, anyone in the throes of writer's block
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who has dibs on CYMBELINE, anunusual murder method engineered by a drummer.
There was a time, during the so-called Golden Age of Mystery, when everyoneknew what a "cozy" was. Not so anymore, what with womenprivate eyes kicking bad guys through cement walls, even butlers carryingsemi-automatic weapons to the door, and Quentin Tarantinoquitting his job at the video store.It's time to correct this ignorant state of affairs in the mysteryworld.
A cozy must include at least one cat.
The murder is usually a domestic crime. Example: bashing in your rich uncle's skull is a much cozier activity than taking out 7-11 clerks with your Uzi.
The sleuth is almost always an amateur. It's much cozier for a pink-haired elderly lady to point her knitting needle at the murderer than to have the villain collared by the cops and read his Miranda rights.
Tea is served in cozies (double entendre intended).
Graphic violence is eschewed in cozies. Example: the murder is discovered, the ghastly deed having been done offstage. Some ill-mannered person MIGHT mention blood, but if so, characters overhearing the remark must either turn white as sheets or shudder deliciously. Nobody in cozies has ever seen blood before.
The murder weapon in cozies is usually a blunt instrument, i.e., a lapis lazuli paperweight, a fireplace poker, or Larry King.
Poison is allowable as the agent of death in cozies but only if death is instantaneous. Prolonged suffering (much less nausea and vomiting) is not permitted. The ban on vomiting, I think, is in deference to the cat.
The language of cozies does not permit the use of four-letter words. You can leave a cozy open on your kitchen table without fear that your ten-year old will adopt linguistic behaviors that will embarrass you before your bridge club.
Cozies usually take place in country houses or small towns. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, people are far more likely to hate each other if confined in a small area together. The same is true of rats. This phenomenon is called "the behavioral sink," or "St. Mary Meade Syndrome."
You can read a cozy in front of your mother. However, you can read anything in front of a cat.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who read Kahlil Gibran's THE PROPHETto her cats without being torn to shreds.
Erica Jong once got all in a dither in the New York Times Book Review overwhat she called today's "slide forms," so it may betimely to erect firm barriers around the subgenres of mystery toprevent any sliding that can be lamented by people who don't know anybetter but can be relied upon to vent their ignorance in arespected publication. Therefore, I give you the following:
First and foremost, NO CATS.
The protagonist is usually a professional crime solver, henceforth referred to as "the dick."
The dick is always a philanthropist who never earns a penny for work. The dick takes on cases because of the heart of gold under the obligatory trenchcoat. The rent on his/her one-room office with the pebbled-glass window in the door is paid as an Act of God, like the lilies of the field.
The dick is properly licensed, carrying a wallet-sized credential that grants the dick no rights or privileges and fools no one.
The dick is lazy, never working on more than one case at a time.
Between spasms of detecting on that one case, the dick consumes quantities of booze that would have made Al Capone so much richer that he could have bought himself a better lawyer to beat that income tax evasion charge.
The dick, unlike the amateur detective found in cozies, is armed. If a woman, the dick usually stores her gun in the glove compartment of her car and forgets to take it with her into dangerous situations. If a man, the dick carries his gun in a shoulder harness, and it is mandatory for the author to detail precisely and in ripe detail the amount of perspiration generated by the harness.
The dick always has a medical degree. This is obvious because any dick worth a hoot can tell at a glance if the victim is dead. There's none of that "Oh, my God, is he DEAD?" baloney in hardboiled novels.
Blood.
The dick must be injured by some relatively benign agency (a fall down a flight of stairs, a good smack on the thumb with the business end of a hammer while repairing the roof, sliding off the roof while cussing the hammer, getting pummelled by a girl gang that has nothing to do with the plot) early in the novel so that the dick's ultimate triumph in the mandatory climactic fight scene is rendered all the more incredible.
The rules of hardboiled fiction permit the dick to have active and frequent access to the vocabulary we all learned in fourth grade but have always pretended shocks us.
Harboiled novels take place in big cities. The urban setting is required because only in horrendously expensive inner cities could a dick survive while earning no money, suffering thousands of dollars worth of medical treatment per case, and buying enough booze to keep his/her head boiled. Thus the term.(see The Big Concrete Apple Mystery)
Submitted by Polly Whitney, whose head is not boiled but baked.
Some mystery writers just don't like cars and refrigerators. Suchconvenience machines make them nervous. So, these writers look to the pastfor material upon which to base a mystery. Also, thesewriters may be somewhat nauseated by the bloodiness of this century andturn to times past so they can bloody up our history by foisting moremurders backwards in time. But, the rules governingtime travel for mystery writers are rigorous and must not be violated orbent in any way. The penalty for doing so is that the writer could end uplost in the 14th century and outrunning the plague.
There can be no doubt that the MAP is the key to historical mysteries. These navigational aids are not present in cozies or hardboiled fiction -- or, if they are, the author has perpetrated a cross-genre faux pas. The MAP is to show the dimmer reader WHERE THINGS ARE IN RELATION TO EACH OTHER.
The map must be, for all practical purposes, unintelligible. This creates suspense, particularly for the dim, as we attempt to decipher the tiny Old English typeface of the place names.
A pond is required on the map, whether it has anything to do with the crime or not. The pond, ideally, will be named after a wealthy family featured in the book; i.e., "The Witherspoon Pond," "Pembroke's Water," or "O.J. Simpson's Pool."
The story itself must be preceded by at least five epigraphs. This device shows scholarship, especially if one of the epigraphs comes from a vaguely familiar source that makes the reader feel stupid for being such a clod and cultural outsider. A good example is from THE ALIENIST -- "These bloody thoughts/ from what are they born?" (From Verdi's MACBETH, and that's really obscure but you feel you SHOULD have heard it.)
The rules dictate that at least one of the jacket blurbs includes the word "atmospheric."
Fabio is not on the cover. That's a different kind of book, and, besides, it only SEEMS like Fabio is everywhere.
The first sentence of the historical mystery contains a reference to the corpse or corpses, as well as some word that is not in our modern vocabulary, some variation of "There were seven bodies ready to be taken out of the natron." This device must not mislead you into thinking that you are reading science fiction. There is no science in historical mysteries -- they didn't know anything back then.
The murder may occur in one of three ways:
Mud.
The dialogue sounds peculiar.
No nudity or foul language is permitted -- remember, those were the good old days before we became the wretches that inhabit modern fiction. Nobody knows how people reproduced in the past. Or, for that matter, how they let off steam, although the logical assumption is that the only steam valve was MURDER MOST FOUL or starting a 100 years war.
The story takes place a long time ago. (see We Got From There To Here Without A Jet)
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who wouldn't write an historical mysterybecause of the ban on cussing and, uh, reproduction.
In it's august history, the mystery novel has undergone great development inthe hands of its practitioners. Any new development that other writers goon to imitate is called a "CONVENTION" (or CON, for short). One of theoldest of these CONVENTIONS is the Locked Room Puzzle, dating back to SaintEdgar Allan Poe and never going out of style. The Locked Room CONVENTIONis not an easy thing to do well, although it is done frequently. Thefollowing guidelines might be of help to those attempting this particularCONVENTION for the first time.
Only cozy writers may use this convention. What could be cozier than a locked room?
All points of egress/ingress to the scene of the murder are, well, locked.
The cost of the convention is usually no greater than $140, but that does not include hotel charges.
The hallmark of the Locked Room Convention is the SMASHED TIMEPIECE. In the room, it is mandatory for the police to find and impound a timepiece that was smashed, thus stopping the hands of the timepiece at precisely the moment of the murder. This can mean one of three things:
The Sisters in Crime Breakfast will be scheduled too early in the morning for everyone but those drunken authors who never went to bed the night before and are lined up at the door of the Presidential Ballroom, looking for Bloody Mary relief and a place to check their lampshades.
The points of egress/ingress in the locked room must total at least 15, including windows, doors, chimneys, secret passageways behind revolving bookcases, trap doors, dumb waiters, and mouse holes. This is to keep the detective busy and the reader on his toes (on his own toes, that is, not on the detective's toes.)
The whole point of the Locked Room Convention is hidden behind one larger, more apparent, assumption:
The alibies for the minimum of 6 suspects can include but are not limited to:
The weapon must be in the locked room, and it is essential that the weapon be monstrously heavy (see alibi "f", above). The weapon is usually an emerald-studded scimitar covered with lurid inscriptions in Latin, which only readers who are also classical scholars will be able to decipher as being absolutely filthy jokes perpetrated by the author for her own amusement. We can't do it all for the reader's sake. SCRIBO ERGO SUM.
Lawrence Block will interview himself on the most heavily attended panel.
The awards given out annually for the best locked room murders are called the "Beatles," because, since every author wants one, the master of ceremonies must often repeat "GET BACK!"
If the author has done the job properly, even when the solution of the crime is revealed (usually at a gathering of all the suspects, at which tea is served by a nervous maid who drops things), we simply don't believe it and come away from the experience with the feeling of having had our legs pulled.
Know the feeling?
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who wants a Beatle.
The New York mystery is one of the most important subgenres ofspooky fiction. But, like living in the city that never sleeps,writing about it can be pretty darned INTENSE. One big advantage,however, of writing this subgenre, is that, unlike other types ofmysteries, you can do it at any hour of the day or night, andorder takeout, even on Sunday.
The action must take place in Manhattan, although fleeting references to Brooklyn, The Bronx, and Queens are permitted. Staten Island must never be mentioned, at least not seriously.
Nicknames for the city are not only permissible, they are necessary to verisimilitude. These nicknames should include the standard batch (The Big Apple, Gotham, New Calcutta, etc.), but the narrator must also coin his/her own nicknames. Examples I have seen include The Big Burg, Hell on the Hudson, and The Gap Capital of the United States.
Writers in this subgenre always give exact street addresses where scenes take place, but if you actually go to any of those addresses you will find, instead of the building described in the novel, a Gap store or the New York Coliseum.
Wildlife is confined to three species of rats:
The New York Mystery lends itself to the development of amateur detectives. Problems that amateurs encounter in other subgenres (i.e., how come these librarians, art teachers, shoe salesmen, and housepainters keep stumbling over bodies?) do not arise for New York City amateurs. In the Big Apple, dead bodies can be found under every table, on every park bench, stuffed in all the mailboxes, riding in subway cars, occupying Gracie Mansion, at the perfume counter in Bloomingdales (in fact, THAT is the likeliest place to discover that a New Yorker has keeled over), stuck in traffic, in an off-off Broadway theater after a performance of "Every- body Loves Opal," or on 34th Street just beside the Empire State Building -- proving that if you drop a penny from the observation deck you probably WILL kill someone down on the sidewalk and that New York legends are TRUE.
The biggest problem faced by the author of this kind of novel is explaining not HOW the amateur stumbled across a body but rather WHY, after stumbling, the amateur didn't simply curse the inconvenience and move on.
The crime in a New York Mystery may NOT be a crime of passion. New Yorkers are all entirely accustomed to hating each other, and a crime of passion would indicate faulty research on the part of the author. When New Yorkers hate each other, they use their fingers, not their guns. Unless the Mets are involved.
The motive for murder will be Big Money, Ego, simple annoyance with a tourist, ticket scalping that goes beyond what even New Yorkers will tolerate, or a parking place.
Chase scenes always involve taxis with rigged meters.
The jacket art always includes THE MOST FAMOUS SKYLINE ON EARTH. Otherwise, the reader might think he/she is in the presence of Science Fiction.
Jimmy Breslin or Pete Hamill must write one of the jacket blurbs.
The book will eventually appear in a courtroom, where the experts will testify that it inspired an actual murder. This is known as the "Barnes & Noble Discounted Defense."
Conversations in elevators cannot be avoided.
No character may be seen jogging beside Lake Michigan.
The neighborhood bartender always KNOWS SOMETHING.
Finally, there must be such an overwhelming amount of descriptive passages regarding concrete that part of the suspense derives from the feeling that the continent will at any moment tip into the Atlantic.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, from the city that never sleeps, theplace so nice they named it twice.
One of the oldest of mystery subgenres, dating back to Chaucer's"The Miller's Tale," but not usually as dirty, is the HAD I BUTKNOWN school of sleuthing. This school is problematic, as weshall see. And remember: I said it was old; I never said it wasvenerable.
The protagonist is always a female, for who could possibly find it credible for a man to do all the dumb things the heroine does?
The are many, many signs that point to the murderer (some of them done up in neon with flashing yellow arrows), but the heroine never sees them.
Lots of really bad stuff happens around the heroine, but she never worries that she, herself, is in danger. Here are some examples of bad things that don't make her skip town:
Her friends have all done time.
She has a smart mouth, a trendy job, a high IQ, a college degree, but, unfortunately for her, blood tests reveal that she does not have even a healthy paranoia level. She's also been short-changed in the adrenaline department.
She thinks "mace" is a medieval war club with a spiked metal head.
Her best friend, a man who works for the Psychic Hotline, tells her she is in grave danger, so she hurries to Radio Shack to buy a surge protector for her computer. When she gets home, her dog is stuffed in the blender, and, on the kitchen counter, is a note saying "Your treat next time."
Her brother, her boss, her accountant, her dry cleaner, her mail carrier, and her hair dresser all die under suspicious circumstances, and she is slightly irritated that she will have to transfer her business to the dry cleaner a block farther away from her apartment.
You know the climax is just around the bend when she goes for a walk in the park, with her Psychic Hotline friend, and starts wondering aloud about certain "odd" feelings she's had lately.
He knocks her to the ground on the bridle path, and, woozily, she spots a burning cigarette lying beside her on the cinders. She'd really like to have a drag, so she picks it up and accidentally stabs her assailant in the eye with the lighted end. He confesses to the murders, and she apologizes for the second-hand smoke.
His motive for trying to kill her is -- well, wouldn't you?
She goes home, none the wiser, and her chihuahua is bound and gagged with duct tape in the bathroom medicine chest, signalling to the smart reader, but not to the heroine, that there will be a sequel.
The dog lives. There has to be at least one intelligent character who grows and develops through troubling experience during the length of the series. And, remember, he can tie square knots.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who owns a dog with fur.
The rules for police procedural mystery novels, unfortunately,are very strict, allowing for almost no license on the part ofthe author; so, the following may strike readers as somewhatcold-hearted or even poetically stingy.TOUGH.
The protagonists are cops.
The cover art of procedurals always features a "unit," customarily rendered in blue and white, with a bubble gum machine and flashing lights on top. The backdrop is a cityscape. At night. You can see your own grubby fingerprints plainly on the shiny cover and realize it's too late to return the book to the shelf. You sheepishly buy it and slink out of the store.
The jacket of the procedural must include one blurb that fairly shouts "FRESH AS TODAY'S HEADLINES."
The word "unit" has no sexual or anatomical connotation in these novels, as in "calling all units, we need backup on Astoria Boulevard."
The squad room must be populated by what is known as the "Rainbow Shift" or "Doppler's Revenge." The cops ideally will represent every ethnic group under the sun. To omit even ONE minority is to break the rules of the procedural, and you will find that you have produced a book that does not fit this category and may be eligible for a National Book Award.
The cops do not mind that the crooks are all wealthy, even though the goods are ill-gotten. Cops don't care about tainted money because they have something even better: Mastercards.
The cops in procedurals do not use their units, as sex is NOT ALLOWED in this subgenre. At least, not good sex.
Despite rule #6, at least one cop must be corrupt, accepting bribes, or sifting through evidence bags for a roach or two, or moonlighting as a schools superintendent.
The cops drink to excess: the results are precocious paunches and the kind of hangovers historically only produced by Cecil B. DeMille. You'd drink, too, if you had only two years to go until retirement and the new Republican mayor is balancing the municipal budget through cutbacks on the force.
Procedurals take place in big cities because small towns lack criminals worse than aluminum siding salesmen.
Readers of procedurals have the right to remain silent.
Reviewers of procedurals have the right to representation by a public defender who was once a hotshot courtroom lawyer but who is now making his way slowly back into the legal field after a bout with alcoholism or repeated sexual misconduct with the jury pool. These losers, who must wear threadbare brown suits, almost never win their cases. That last sentence fails to make it clear if the "losers" are the public defenders or the reviewers.
It is essential that the crime be a BIG ONE. A single murder or DUI is beneath the squad room's attention and is handled by "uniforms." The BIG CRIME typically involves the "syndicate," or labor racketeering, or narcotics, or loan sharking, or or extortion, or point shaving in the NBA, or following a fire apparatus too closely. In other words -- anything that will cause Internal Affairs to stock extra Tums. The hideous irony is that the sub-plot being worked by the lowlife uniforms always provides the key to the final solution of the BIG CRIME.
Before the hideous irony is revealed, the cops attempt to solve the crime through the use of PROCEDURES: wiretapping, cross-dressing, the chain of evidence, off track betting, MO's, makes, police brutality, stool pigeons, disobeying one's commanding officer, rap sheets, sirens, eating doughnuts, talking about the "perp," marrying the Don's sister, and driving a Ford Crown Victoria with radiator problems.
The language of procedurals is impossible to understand if the reader has not graduated from a decent police academy. Often, numerals do the work of words, as in "86," "Ten-Four," "That's a .357 Magnum," "I'm calling from a pay phone outside a 7-11," and "Unit 41 to dispatcher -- we're going on a 10-91A." (I looked it up, and a 10-91A is a "noisy animal complaint.")
Finally, readers do not take these books seriously if the books appear to have been written by a woman. Therefore, women wishing to write procedurals adopt the practice of using their initials instead of their given names, especially if those initials are particularly masculine. (I can only think of one set of really masculine initials, and that's Y.A.)
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who has read exactly two policeprocedurals in her life.
The legal thriller may well belong to the honored canon of mystery writing. On the other hand, it may belong in the Gardening Section.Nobody is really certain about the legal thriller, and the followingdefinition should demonstrate why that is so.
This type of book is invariably written by an attorney looking to earn some spending money. (See what I mean? Attorneys already have spending money.)
Speed reading is essential to the consumption of these books, as, in addition to the $24.95 you lay out for the hardcover, you are billed $145.00 per hour as you read.
Protagonists in legal thrillers come in two brands:
The point of view in a legal thriller is quite fluid. What point of view would you like and how much are you willing to pay?
The author of the legal thriller is never actually himself or herself. The author is always either "the next John Grisham" or "Scott Turow's heir."
The jacket must include a blurb by John Grisham, or forget it.
The critics, themselves troubled by this genre, say odd things like "intrinsically interesting," "a complex novel about a painful, confusing topic," and "So-and-so is improving as a writer."
These books are all 676 pages long.
The cover art looks good even across an Olympic-size pool at any hotel in Cancun, Mexico. AND, you can read the title at a distance of up to six miles.
Very little courtroom activity is presented. The attorney/protagonist spends most of his time on airplanes, making calls from those neat phones on the seatbacks, or in the Cayman Islands laundering money, or in his office scouring for wiretaps or bugs.
The plot must turn on some obscure legal precedent, such as The Baker/Jones Disclosure Act; The Antediluvian Loophole; The Itching Jury; or The Let's Finish the Story by Having the Hero Simply Bolt for the Cayman Islands. That's what happens when you wait for 675 pages before you stop worrying about your billable hours and start making sense.
The bottom line is that everybody cheats, even the squeaky clean prosecutor who can't make his case any other way. The only question about the cheating is "To what extent?"
If the attorney/protagonist is the lawyer for the defense, he has no defense. This attorney might as well wear a T-shirt that says "The Express Checkout Lane is Open."
A lawyer writing a book makes about as much sense as an NFL player's wife signing autographs.
You can't tell if what you are reading is a novel or a screenplay.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, whose attorney charged her $145.00 toadvise her not to write this definition.
Like the signs of the Zodiac, the months of the year, theApostles, inches per foot, the days of Christmas, the originaltribes of Israel, and the number of players the Dallas Cowboys have on thefield when they are penalized for an extra man, the number of obligatorystock characters in British mystery fiction is finite, being exactlytwelve. While the origins of this sacred number are lost in the mists ofantiquity, scholars believe that these stock characters may once have hadmystical associations for pantheistic cultures and are hangovers fromolder, more savage forms of literature. Or maybe that's just a bunch ofhooey invented for a dissertation. You be the judge.
The Butler. He may be tall, cadaverous, and dour, with a prim attitude toward alcohol, or he may be chubby, friendly to a fault, and chatty, with liberal attitudes concerning the grape (he may even have passed out). But he may NOT be the guy who did it. If he knows anyting of significance about the murder, he'll either zip his lip out of loyalty to The Family or he'll gossip with the police, completely content for the first time in his employment.
The Vicar. Same character options as the Butler. The only differences are that he doesn't answer the door and he writes sermons. Plus, although this part is not obligatory, his vocabulary is usually not as good as the Butler's.
The Woman in Red. The color may manifest itself on a convertible, a dress, or the debit side of the ledger. She is irrelevant to the story, but not to the tradition.
The Police Officer. He is so dimwitted, oblivious, or consumed by arrogance that, without the assistance of the amateur detective, he cannot see the murder weapon glued to the drain pipe, with a note that says, "Hey, somebody tell that copper this is a CLUE!"
The Deceased's Attorney. For years he's been waiting to unload the will's nasty little surprise, with a coiled spitefulness of unique purity.
The Nervous Nephew. Being British, he's never been really comfortable with the Fifth Amendment, and he goes around saying the most remarkably stupid and self-culpatory things. We wish he were the murderer; alas, he rarely is. But, we can always hope gets run over by a lorry.
The Dithery Old Lady. She spouts a running commentary on the strange "goings on" at Smithfield Manor and how such behavior would not have been tolerated in her day (never specifying when that was exactly), and it turns out that when her garden of verbiage is weeded at the end of the story she's the only one who spotted the uncouth mannerism that clearly labelled the killer, thus proving we should listen to our elders.
The Rake. He slithers through the story, uttering poisonous and highly erudite insults while sipping cocktails and smoking expensive French cigarettes. He is always a red herring, for no court in England would hang a man who expresses himself better than Alexander Pope.
The Siren. She speaks with an unidentifiable foreign accent and flirts with everyone in sight, including the Dithery Old Lady and excepting only the Butler and the Policeman. She turns out to be a thrice-divorced American social climber who could not possibly have done the murder because the deceased was not taken out with a semi-automatic gun the size of a cannon and purchased in the Bronx.
The Sensible Englishwoman. She rides to hounds, can tell rye grass from timothy, and smells like a beagle. She's fishy from the start because no seasoned reader likes completely healthful living, tweed, and dullness.
The Male Secretary. He reeks of ruthless competence and is the younger son of an Irish Earl. He's in love with the Sensible Englishwoman, so we suspect he'll turn out to be the killer because it's so obvious that the Rake will marry the Beagle, er, the Sensible Englishwoman, after he crushes her in his arms and tells her she's just the sort of bitch he's been looking for.
The Awful Young Poet. He embarrasses everyone but the Siren by composing verses to her that include metaphors about lanterns and being lost at sea on her alabaster skin.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who's inviting everyone over to herhouse to see the 3,000 color slides she took during her last visitto the British Isles, including a really good one of a Chinese laundry inLondon that was once the home of Daniel Defoe.
Oftentimes, the most difficult part of a mystery, both for thesuspects and for the author, is the nerve-racking and overlytactful lacuna between the discovery of the corpse and thearrival of the representatives of official detection. In sum,nobody knows what to do. Now, all that can be changed, by following thesimple directions given below...
Ditch your DNA.
Faint (If this does not eliminate you as a suspect, at least you'll get a much needed nap, particularly if the title of the book is MURDER MOST TIRING).
Offer to comfort all the other suspects to the point where they begin to look at you as if the wrong person bought the farm.
Surreptitiously set fire to the blackmail notes in your pocket. Lean indifferently against a Doric column to extinguish the blaze.
Be really annoying and keep repeating that you don't see why YOU have to hang around. Whine that you're going to miss a dental appointment.
Casually expose everyone to your second-hand smoke and your biting remarks on the dead person's character and sexual habits, thus rendering yourself both the least likeable and the least likely suspect. Either that, or you're just an idiot.
Leave. The cops aren't there yet, so what's stopping you?
Pretend you like the vicar.
Offer to make tea, but don't overcharge.
Offer to make drinks so that, by the time the cops do arrive, all the suspects will be so sloshed that it won't matter that three of them saw you stash the blunt instrument up the back of the vicar's coat when you were buddying up to him.
Start thinking of the wages of sin and about prison showers.
Remove those surgical gloves, Stupid!
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who would choose option #7.
Coming soon:
It's all very well to talk about what to do at the scene of a murder. Whatabout what NOT to do? We need to be comprehensive here. See NO-NOs AT THE CRIME SCENE, THE BASICS.
Following our previous discussion of what to do before the police arrive toinvestigate a death, it would be well to consider the yang for thisparticular ying. Authors and suspects, after thediscovery of the body, you must on no account do any of thefollowing:
Say "I did it."
Say "I did it. Hey, that's a joke, guys."
Fail to find an excuse to apply your fingerprints all over the murder weapon.
Destroy evidence by upchucking on the corpse.
PROVIDE evidence by upchucking on the corpse if you have swallowed the murder weapon.
Sing "If I had a Hammer" in the presence of death brought about through the agency of a blunt instrument.
Take this opportunity to reveal that you have a valid hunting license.
Mention that you are a professional hit artist for the local chapter of the Mafia.
Neck with the corpse's spouse.
Admit that since you grew weary of Chanel No. 5, you've been wearing "Eau d'Arsenique."
Put a notch on your gunbelt.
Er, break wind if you are in a locked room mystery.
Cry and lose the power of speech. Nobody does that in a mystery novel -- at least, not simultaneously.
Start knitting the shroud, especially not with black yarn you just happen to have handy, as well as the correct size needles.
Suddenly recall that you are the heir and scream "I'm rich! I'm rich!"
Tidy the room.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, from an extremely tidy room.
Victims get their fair share of sympathy. Murderersusually just get hisses and boos.But, murderers are human, too, and they have theirups and downs. It's not easy to speak up on behalfof killers. Nevertheless, I've gathered up my courageto report on the following icky things.
"What do you MEAN you're prescribing a little something for me?"
"If I felt like swallowing that filthy medicine, I wouldn't have been here complaining about a sore throat, now would I?"
"You taste it first, and no funny stuff."
"Get away from me! I've got my own pharmacy."
"Would you like to borrow MY beaker?"
"Well, you can tell the warden I don't like the color of this stuff, and I don't care if he transfers me from the infirmary to solitary confinement -- I'm not putting that in my mouth."
"Oh, no, that medication will not be particularly efficacious against the common cold. It will, however, stop a linebacker dead in his tracks."
"What do you think this is? The Olympic trials? Just hand over the codeine, the steroids, and the eye of newt, and I'll be on my way."
"I wish I'd let the nurse fluff my pillows before I slipped her the strychnine. I'd ring for the butler, but I think I gave HIM the arsenic. Darn this flu bug, anyway -- I just can't THINK with such a headache. I can't even remember if the gardener has been given the weed killer yet."
"125 dollars for an office visit?! Open YOUR mouth and say 'Ahhhh.'"
Submitted by Polly Whitney, with many thanks to Dr. Crippenfor his cruel inspiration.
Someday, your turn will come, and you will be a murder suspect. Ithappens to everyone in the course of a normal life. We understand.The following will act as a true public service should you ever findyourself in need of an alibi. Print this out and memorize it.Do NOT keep it on your person or consult it when the inevitable arrestoccurs. That would look fishy.
You were at a party, surrounded by Arkansas State Troopers, asking them if they knew any girls.
At the exact time of the murder, you called in to the Larry King Show.
Unless the corpse met its Maker through the agency of being kicked through the uprights in Irving, Texas, both of your arms are broken. You just haven't seen your doctor yet.
You were reading the L.L. Bean catalogue and fell asleep in the windbreaker section.
You were at Miami International Airport, waiting for your luggage to arrive on carousel #4.
You were watching Monday Night Football and can tell the cops precisely when the Jets stupidly called a draw play on third and 17.
"Take an X-ray, Pal. I haven't got a mean bone in my body."
You're Tonya Harding, and, while you knew SOMETHING was going on and will be perfectly happy to finger your former husband and a few goons, you're skating for Jesus Christ.
"Are you kidding? With this much marijuana in my system, it's all I can do to find the fritos."
You were busying murdering someone else.
You were online in a chat room. You have thousands of virtual witnesses.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who is saving the best alibi forherself. I don't want it to become old hat by the time I need it.
Dating has never been easy. Just look what happened toAdam and Eve.And Helen of Troy. And that woman who hangs out atDavid Letterman's house.But dating gets even more difficult if you let yourself getrusty. Now is the time to dust off your smile, give youreyelashes some exercise, and have those new partners beatingdown your door. And tap into a pool where you won't havemuch competition.
If your date's first name is Hannibal, wear armor.
If your date has a reputation as a poisoner, suggest going ice-skating instead of the romantic little dinner he mentioned.
If you must go out with a chain-saw artist, drain the fuel from the appliance before agreeing to a tango.
If he's sporting expensive leather gloves and driving a white Ford Bronco, wear a body mike and keep uttering his name. Ask him what his favorite football team is.
If your date shows up brandishing his sword, be sure to ask him if he brought "protection."
Pass if his nickname is "the Ripper." Stay home and wash your hair. Live a little.
If your date likes to wear capes, has long teeth, and prefers Calvin Coffin Cologne, schedule your date for dawn.
If you're Jessica Fletcher and your date suggests a picnic, don't forget to pack your hunch.
If your date's name is Hamlet, don't hide behind an arras.
If the Terminator asks you out, pack an 1800 liter tank of propane in your purse.
If your idea of a fun date is swimming with a great white shark, bring enough chum for your friend. Show him that you care.
If your name is Sherlock Holmes -- while you're disguising yourself as an elderly street sweeper, snort enough coke to kill a medium-sized linebacker. Bring your violin.
But leave Watson at home.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, a romantic at heart who carries asemi-automatic pistol on her social outings, proving you can beromantic without being stupid.
I am still in the process of cleaning out my files and have comeacross the following piece, written early in my career but stilla good reference tool for me.
The doorbell rang.
It was a dark night. Not too stormy.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was pay day.
Before I entered the courtroom, thirteen years of twisted, abusive, tender love flashed before me like an emotional molotov cocktail, and I knew that, both for her sake and for mine, I could never put Tiffany Lammp on the witness stand.(see Not So Cocksure About The Legal Thriller)
You had to be there.
Hi. My name is Betsy Detective, and I have the sweetest little ole job in Franklin Mint, Tennessee.
The doorbell rang again.
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
Martha, the "tweenie," was dusting the rich scarlet brocade curtains just before the members of the house party were awakened for chocolate when she happened to glance out the second story window and spotted the pyjama-clad body of Sir Charles, face down in the ornamental lake, floating softly as a caress of down feathers in the Thornburn Estate chicken coop.(see the Stockroom)
I always leave the phone off the hook when I'm not working on a case; makes potential clients think I'm busy and in demand.
Last night I dreamt I was at Fire Island again.
Will somebody get that #$%##@*& doorbell?
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who wishes there were twelve sidesto a coin so she could simply flip one and decide how to beginher third book.
I have been polishing my filing system and have come across anitem stuffed inside my copy of MANY MINDS, MANY DISASTERS. I passthis along to you, as I think it gives a large clue to what it means to bea mystery writer.
This is a multiple choice quiz. The scoring will be explainedwhen you have finished the quiz. Do not read the explanationuntil AFTER you have completed all questions on this quiz.
Your knowledge of guns can best be described as
Your interest in writing mysteries arises from
Complete this sentence: A carnival is a good place to . . .
In your opinion, the ideal vacation includes
Alien beings from an advanced civilization visit the Earth and you are the first human they encounter. They ask you to name the single most important problem facing humankind. You answer
A chainsaw is
What activity is more powerfully attractive to you than writing?
Did you
When it comes to dialogue, you would always
What, in your opinion, is the most reasonable explanation for the fact that the colonies won the American Revolutionary War?
The hero of OPERATION JUST CAUSE was
You consider a novel that includes a fool-proof murder method
THE SCORING EXPLAINED: This is like asking the clerk at Tiffany'show much the sapphire and emerald-cut diamond necklace costs. Ifyou have to ask, you can't afford it.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who can't afford it.
Something we must all confront from time to time is the ugly mug of Mr.Writer's Block. Some laughable psychologists have suggested ways toovercome the horrors of this encounter, but they are full of beans. Thetruth is, only time can mend the damage of meeting Mr. Block, but writersneed not despair. What they need, while suffering the throes of A DATEWITH MR. B, is a list of harmless activities to occupy themselves until Mr.Block goes away. Here are the best exercises for whiling away the tediumof the unwelcome guest's visit.
Play solitaire on your computer until you start hoping for a low score because you're so sick of all the cards working out in such neat little annoying stacks.
Encourage one of your dogs to eat one of your other dogs.
Pretend that you don't have writer's block, that you're THINKING.
Pretend that you don't have writer's block, that what's really going on is that you're conducting research.
Sit in your chair and make believe that your keyboard is a piano. Try to play "The Hallelujah Chorus" on the number keys.
Take your computer in to the repair shop to be dusted and have the cat hair removed from the hard drive. This is good for about ten days of not having to make excuses.
Get out all your old address books and phone every person listed in them, even if you don't remember who they are or if they are your former mechanics and plumbers you still owe money to.
Watch all those episodes of "Jeopardy" you taped. After a while, you'll be getting the answers (phrased in the form of a question) before the contestant picks the category.
Put Sesame Street Bandaids around each of your fingers and act like you've been working them to the bone and you deserve a rest.
Soak your head in a bucket of red wine vinegar. Tell yourself that this is much more conservative than trepanning your skull.
Read the dictionary to see if there are any words that look familiar.
Get fitted for a bowling ball, even if you can't stand the sport. This will keep your fingers occupied and explain to your conscience why you can't even play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on your pretend piano.
Put on thick gardening gloves and try to type the following sentence: "Well, no wonder my prose reads like it was typed by someone wearing thick gardening gloves."
Play with Super Glue. Self explanatory.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, who has never suffered a visit fromMr. Block but believes in being prepared.
Almost anyone can write a mystery novel. The problem is, even with all theadvice manuals on the shelves of bookstores, nobody tells you how to liveyour life after you've made the decision to be a mystery novelist. It'sone thing to read about characterization and plotting and all thatperipheral stuff. It's quite another to read what writers actually do withtheir time. Because I'm a mystery writer, I don't have time to write amanual for new authors on how to live their lives, but I will, as aservice, provide a short list here in the hope of providing quick spiritualguidance. You'll see why I don't have time for extra writing as you makeyour way through the following...
Stare at the ceiling and wonder if Svengali really ate bacon with chocolate cake.
Call your agent and ask what the weather's like in New York. He'll appreciate hearing from you.
Flop around like an eel on a fiberglas boat if a family member turns on the TV or asks you what's for dinner.
If you're John Grisham, type the following sentence, but don't revise it. "The law firm of Kravitz, Englander, MacIntyre, and Butch had almost 500 lawyers coexisting under the same roof in Memphis, 491 to be exact, and they had all been recruited as bright third-year students with high marks in kangaroo trials, but even with offices in eight cities, the firm billed only third in Memphis because, much to the chagrin of the older partners, the letterhead did not have a single Paris address, and although there was a nice small unit for personal injury work, good stuff from which they took 75 percent and allowed their clients the remainder, all the really big clients took their business elsewhere when they saw the detailed map of the Cayman Islands on the wall of the reception room in the old building on the river."
(See THE LEGAL THRILLER)
Turn down the volume on your computer and surf the Web.
Do everything in units of ten. Promise yourself ten times that you will write ten pages. In about ten minutes, tell yourself that you will definitely write about ten paragraphs. Well, okay, write the ten words you like best. If you can't think of ten, recite the alphabet out loud and choose ten letters that sound cool. Or see if there are ten different ways to spell the letter "Q." There are! Cue, queue, kew, c'you, chue, kyoo, The 17th letter of the English Alphabet, Q.(abbr.), the first part of the phrase that ends with "and A.", a typo for "clue."
Nap.
Study the advantages of using a pseudonym.
Imagine what it would be like to have a postage stamp with your face on it.
Switch the words around in your title, assuming you've gotten that far in the novel.
When you need a respite from the grueling labor already described above, write a long dedication. See if you can get it to rhyme.
When you finish the dedication, write an exercise paragraph in which you kill your own protagonist, just to see if that does anything to relieve the itching caused by the duct tape.
Starve.
Which reminds you that you have already spent the advance on lottery tickets. Write the book.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, with the thought that typing the dateshould have been on the above list. Insert it yourself. I alreadytold you I'm busy.
As a person who writes mystery novels, I am naturally curious abouthow the critics operate. As a writer of mystery novels, I also know how tofind out a bunch of stuff. One night I sneaked into the editorial officesof a major metropolitan newspaper -- and, imagine my surprise at what Idiscovered! It was on the editor's desk, and I snatched it. I herereproduce my little find in full, just so you can see things from theinside, as I have done:
Dear Alex: As you know, that time of year has arrived when I pack mysnorkel and sunblock and head out of the newsroom. While I amaway, please use the following form for my book reviews. All you have todo is fill in the blanks and circle your decisions in the multiple choiceareas. Don't worry. Your decisions are not vital. One mystery is much thesame as another. I'll see you in about a month. And, Alex, this time,when I return, lay off the Noxema jokes, okay?
Harry.
P.S.: Make sure you get my byline right on the reviews. What you did lastyear wasn't funny.
____________________________, the (second, last, newest, worst) entry inthe ____________________ series written by ___________,
made me
The plot of __________________________ is tremendously
and the characters have
While I have no automatic
death, I found I was able to
the graphic scenes depicting
The core of this new mystery, which
is a
To say that I ENJOYED this novel would be to say that
Be sure to
Your summer will not be
if you do not buy this mystery novel. I expect to see it
The author has simply
I give it
Submitted by Polly Whitney, a pretty good detective when somethingbig is at stake.
I've discovered some shortcuts for the mystery writer that have saved mevaluable time, time I can spend on useful activities like pulling out myhair and gargling with ammonia. Sometimes the mystery writer may feelobligated to complain about certain reviews but really doesn't have thetime, what with self-torture being so all-embracing. As we all know, timeis money, and I hope that I will have saved you a few quarters with thefollowing. Just circle the appropriate letters in the multiple choiceareas, insert into envelope (you'll have to do the addressing part yourself-- I'M BUSY!), and affix stamp. Presto: instant author ire.
Dear editor: While I am not the sort of person who normally writesletters to the editor, I must inform you that your reviewer
my book. Where does he get off saying
It simply isn't true, as your reviewer suggested, that
And, it is particularly outrageous for your reviewer to indicate that
The lowest blow, however, and what proves the utter lack ofprofessionalismby your so-called reviewer, was his statement
Finally, I have consulted my attorney, and she feels that your reviewerwent far beyond the license permitted to critics and it is actionable thathe wrote:
To suggest that I was switched at birth with the offspring of an oppossumis the last straw, and convinces me that your reviewer is in serious needof medical attention. You'll be hearing from my attorney.
Boiling Mad,
_____________ (Fill in your name.)
Submitted by Polly Whitney, gargling with my hair and pulling ammonia outof my head in clumps.
It's time to broach a subject that mystery writers rarely reveal, andthat's how they get their research done. I thought I'd share with yousome of the email addresses that have been most helpful to me as amystery writer. If you only knew how often I needthese . . .
Submitted by Polly Whitney, PSYCHO@FUNNYFARM.COM
I have my own little quirks, and I wonder if others are guilty ofthe same sins I have been known to commit with mystery novels andmystery novelists.Search your consciences. Do you indulge in any of the following?
Lend a mystery novel to a friend. Lie about whodunit and the fact that the book is lousy.
Lend a good mystery novel to a friend. Casually mention the one thing that will give away the plot.
Borrow a mystery novel from a friend. Lend it to a neighbor who still has the dual control electric blanket she borrowed from you in 1987, and she hasn't washed it.
At any resort hotel, steal a mystery novel from a lounge chair while the owner is away getting a pina colada. Hide the book in a potted palm.
In the usually secluded mystery section of Waldenbooks, while no one is looking, rip out the last page of all the Agatha Christie novels.
With a laundry marker, cross out the author's name on all Sue Grafton books available at Barnes & Noble. Write in "Mr. Rogers."
With any mystery novel, skip to the end and see if you like the solution before wasting your time with all that character and setting and plot stuff.
Read John Grisham.
Develop and loudly proclaim a philosophy that any mystery novel containing more than 196 pages is "padded."
At a mystery convention, offer to buy drinks for every author in the bar. Be sure to wear a disguise and slip out the side entrance before you get the bill.
Smoke at author signings. Try to puff as close to the author's hair as possible. If you determine in advance that the author is herself a smoker and can't light up in a bookstore, offer her a drag.
Hack into the New York Times database and fool around with the bestseller list. That's what James Waller did, and look at all the fun he's had at our expense with THE BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY.
Go to a mystery convention, and, during remarks by Patricia Cornwell, pretend you're dead. See if she can figure out what killed you.
Tell your favorite mystery authors that you really admire the way Anne Rice does signings, because she has plenty of imagination and arrives at the store dressed as Elvira and in a horse-drawn hearse.
On jury duty, bring and display prominently a copy of K IS FOR KILLER. Use a stopwatch to time how long you last in the jury pool.
Submitted by Polly Whitney, practicing so that, at the next signingI do, I can imitate Jack Nicholson's snoring in THE WITCHES OF EASTWICK.
Here is a list of Internet services and/or World Wide Web hyperlinksrelated to the genre of the Mystery. This is only a miniscule set of possibleinformation. There are many more available on the Internet. Start sleuthing...
A listserver system which delivers an email "Digest" to your emailbox on adaily basis.
This is the "definitive" mystery website for mystery-related info. Maintained by Jan Steffensen in Denmark, the site offers mountains of info, link access to other mystery-related sites, and capability to subscribe to mystery-related listservs/newsgroups. Also at a weekly updated U.S.A. site.
You want Mystery hyperlinks? Link to this site and you will getall the links that a linker might want when they want to link, and then some.This link links to links which link to other links. Did I mention that thislink takes you to a lot of other links?
What's In The Mystery Zone? Are you a crime, mystery or suspense story reader? Like curling up with Sue Grafton, Elmore Leonard, Scott Turow or What's-Her-Name, the one that writes those books about cats? Then you're in luck. The Mystery Zone is here to bring you information and stories relating to mystery, suspense and crime fiction.
A good website for general mystery info ... and _growing_.
The online version of the magazine of mystery and suspense.
A more complete link list than the one you see here can be found on thiswebsite in the Mystfield House Roadmap. Most additional mystery links thatI find, or get, are added to the Roadmap instead of here. Please checkthere if you have the time as an online community depends upon networking. -- Bob.
Submitted by Bob Foster, who finally gets to say "submitted by" followed bysome witty verbiage just like Polly does and just like Rod Serling used to doon the Twilight Zone. I haven't gotten Rod's voice intonation down pat but Iwork on it every now and then. Actually, he used to say "Submitted for yourapproval..." but it's basically the same thing anyhow.
who did the guesswork (writing) for this hypertext, hangs outin cyberspace on various mystery newsgroups. Outside the virtual world, sheis the author of UNTIL DEATH (St. Martin's Press, 1994, Agatha AwardNominee for best first novel) and UNTIL THE END OF TIME (St. Martin'sPress, 1995). The third mystery novel in the UNTIL series, UNTIL IT HURTS,will be published in the fall of 1996 by St. Martin's Press. In addition tooccupying both virtual reality and real reality, she also lives in twoplaces at once: New York City and Columbia, Missouri.
No wonder she's nuts.
( Editor's Note: The above information is no longer accurate. Please see Polly Whitney for Polly's website and email her at gypsy.scholar@aya.yale.edu )
at the time of this writing, is working as a computerprogrammer/analyst. A faith in the enormous possibilities of the GlobalInternet has made this, his first work in the burgeoning field of online hypertext, a fun and fulfilling project.Having a love of the Mystery Genre, and also aspiring to produce, someday,a great American Mystery novel, he continues plotting/plodding along 8^).
He works and lives in Lansing, Michigan, USA.
( Editor's Note: The above information is no longer accurate. Please see A Place of Sanctuary for Bob's website and email him at rkfoster@ix.netcom.com )
The Editing, Linking, and HTML Formatting for this Cyberbook was done byRobert K. Foster. Any similar HTML/WWW projects wouldbe welcome. Please feel free to contact Bob with any project ideas.Reasonable HTML formatting and Computer Graphics rates are available.
PRAISE FOR POLLY WHITNEY'S "UNTIL SERIES", IN ADDITION TO THE 1994 AGATHAAWARD NOMINATION:
"BRAVO!"
-- Diane Sawyer, ABC NEWS"Nick and Nora Charles on rollerblades . . . the first satiric novelabout network television to get the gee-whiz technology and thehomicidal narcissism exactly right."
-- John Leonard (New York Magazine, New York Newsday, National Public Radio)"A rattling good mystery . . . I couldn't put it down."
-- Charles Kuralt"Read this book because it's a gem . . . one hell of a sleuthing duo."
-- Drood Review"Real wit and ingenuity . . . Washington's still a hick town by comparison."
-- Washington Post Book World"Inventive, lighthearted, and sparkling"
-- Kirkus"Briskly paced, absorbing mystery."
-- Publishers Weekly"Clever, effervescent, and jam-packed with acid-spiked tidbits aboutbroadcast news."
-- Kirkus"High speed chases on rollerblades with FBI agents and police, rooftopescapades . . . Whitney thrills her readers."
-- Key West PARADISE MAGAZINE"....What gets exchanged on DorothyL, apart from opinions, is a huge amountof information ranging from 'what I have just read' to: when the new PollyWhitney (a 'DorothyL' luminary and resident wit) will be coming out andwhere to get it..."
-- Australian Book Review, Sept. 1995
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