Peg Herring's Blog - Posts Tagged "sleuths"
What Is a Mystery?
Sounds like it might lead to a "Who's On First?" situation: "What is a mystery? I don't know; it's a mystery to me." When we say we love mysteries, what do we mean?
It could mean we love picking out clues in a story and separating them from the red herrings. Some of the greats of mystery excel at the casual reference that is so important later in the story or the item clutched in the dead man's hand that could be nothing, could be something.
Some of us love the chase; the physical danger, the "Oh, *&^%" moment where we can't see how the protag is going to get out of this one, even though we're sure (well, almost sure) that it will happen.
Some of us love the characters: Jack Reacher, V.I.Warshawski, Inspector Gamache, or whoever, despite faults and flaws, makes us want to know how they're doing these days.
And some of us love it all. We can argue about whether suspense is mystery or thriller is its own genre or cozy versus hard-boiled, but for those of us who love it, a puzzle is usually enough. I may be in the mood for John Rain today and Gertie Johnson tomorrow. I am equally at home in Billy Boyle's WWII stories or Hester Latterly's Victorian era or Walt Longmire's modern-day west. As long as there's a plot that I can unravel along with the author and his sleuth, I'm there.
It could mean we love picking out clues in a story and separating them from the red herrings. Some of the greats of mystery excel at the casual reference that is so important later in the story or the item clutched in the dead man's hand that could be nothing, could be something.
Some of us love the chase; the physical danger, the "Oh, *&^%" moment where we can't see how the protag is going to get out of this one, even though we're sure (well, almost sure) that it will happen.
Some of us love the characters: Jack Reacher, V.I.Warshawski, Inspector Gamache, or whoever, despite faults and flaws, makes us want to know how they're doing these days.
And some of us love it all. We can argue about whether suspense is mystery or thriller is its own genre or cozy versus hard-boiled, but for those of us who love it, a puzzle is usually enough. I may be in the mood for John Rain today and Gertie Johnson tomorrow. I am equally at home in Billy Boyle's WWII stories or Hester Latterly's Victorian era or Walt Longmire's modern-day west. As long as there's a plot that I can unravel along with the author and his sleuth, I'm there.
What Is Mystery? Great Sleuths
Ask 2 readers what makes a great mystery and you'll get 2 answers, 6 for 6, 10 for 10, and so on. But they'll probably agree that the sleuth, protagonist, hero, or whatever has to appeal to the reader. Maybe he or she is sympathetic, like Odd Thomas, or heroic like Jack Reacher, or irritating-but-determined like Columbo. Somehow we have to want him to succeed, and we have to feel at the end that he has, even in noir, where success isn't always very successful.
How do sleuths go at their jobs? Writers have three basic explanations for a sleuth's tenacity. First, he may be a professional, a cop, a private eye, or a lawyer. It's his job to find the bad guy/prove the accused is innocent. Second, he has a personal stake: a friend, a relative, or he himself is in trouble, suspected of the crime, chased by the killers, affected in some way by a possible outcome. Finally, sometimes the sleuth just wants to know, can't let it drop.
Readers accept that mystery protagonists are people with more-than-usual curiosity. Most of us let the police handle crime; seldom do we "do a little digging" for ourselves. But in mystery, even police officer sleuths are more than normally dedicated -- driven, we might say -- to catch the killer or killers. That's part of their charm: they do what we ourselves would never do.
So what makes a great sleuth? The ones readers love best have unique qualities. In the past they were smarter-than-average types like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, and that type is certainly still popular. Today's sleuth tends to struggle with something, though, anything from alcolhol abuse to a nagging mother to a dead man who speaks only to him. His personal demons make it harder for him to proceed and more interesting for us as readers.
Mystery has grown up, and authors and readers constantly look for new sleuths with unique voices. So we get serial-killer sleuths, child sleuths, time-traveling sleuths, and who knows what else...that's the mystery, at least part of it.
How do sleuths go at their jobs? Writers have three basic explanations for a sleuth's tenacity. First, he may be a professional, a cop, a private eye, or a lawyer. It's his job to find the bad guy/prove the accused is innocent. Second, he has a personal stake: a friend, a relative, or he himself is in trouble, suspected of the crime, chased by the killers, affected in some way by a possible outcome. Finally, sometimes the sleuth just wants to know, can't let it drop.
Readers accept that mystery protagonists are people with more-than-usual curiosity. Most of us let the police handle crime; seldom do we "do a little digging" for ourselves. But in mystery, even police officer sleuths are more than normally dedicated -- driven, we might say -- to catch the killer or killers. That's part of their charm: they do what we ourselves would never do.
So what makes a great sleuth? The ones readers love best have unique qualities. In the past they were smarter-than-average types like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, and that type is certainly still popular. Today's sleuth tends to struggle with something, though, anything from alcolhol abuse to a nagging mother to a dead man who speaks only to him. His personal demons make it harder for him to proceed and more interesting for us as readers.
Mystery has grown up, and authors and readers constantly look for new sleuths with unique voices. So we get serial-killer sleuths, child sleuths, time-traveling sleuths, and who knows what else...that's the mystery, at least part of it.
It's All About the New Book
I won't deny it: I'm excited about the book that's coming out this month, KILLING SILENCE. Really excited. It isn't up on Amazon yet, but it will be soon. (And I'll let you know!)
As a writer, I believe that everything I do should be better than the last thing, else why am I writing? Subgenres make that a little hard to judge. I write historical mysteries, and there are people who love them and wish I'd write nothing else. I also write a paranormal series, and some are intrigued by the idea of the Dead Detectives and want to know more about the world I imagine after this one.
The new series is mainstream mystery/suspense and what I like most about it is the protagonist, Loser the loser. She's homeless, she's damaged, and she's going to help a little girl keep her daddy, even if it kills her.
I was surprised at my workshop on Saturday when someone suggested that it must be hard to write a book with a homeless protagonist, since I have to "dumb down" the vocabulary and take into account her inability to think clearly.
I know there are homeless people who are scary or disgusting or pitiful, but Loser doesn't want you to think of her in any of those ways. Even though she considers herself the world's biggest loser, it doesn't mean she's any less a person than you or me. She might not believe it, but with the right incentive, I know she can crawl out of her despair.
(But I have to warn you: that's going to take two more books!)
As a writer, I believe that everything I do should be better than the last thing, else why am I writing? Subgenres make that a little hard to judge. I write historical mysteries, and there are people who love them and wish I'd write nothing else. I also write a paranormal series, and some are intrigued by the idea of the Dead Detectives and want to know more about the world I imagine after this one.
The new series is mainstream mystery/suspense and what I like most about it is the protagonist, Loser the loser. She's homeless, she's damaged, and she's going to help a little girl keep her daddy, even if it kills her.
I was surprised at my workshop on Saturday when someone suggested that it must be hard to write a book with a homeless protagonist, since I have to "dumb down" the vocabulary and take into account her inability to think clearly.
I know there are homeless people who are scary or disgusting or pitiful, but Loser doesn't want you to think of her in any of those ways. Even though she considers herself the world's biggest loser, it doesn't mean she's any less a person than you or me. She might not believe it, but with the right incentive, I know she can crawl out of her despair.
(But I have to warn you: that's going to take two more books!)
