Showing posts with label John Dickson Carr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Dickson Carr. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

A Twist of Time

When Detective-Superintendent John Cheviot got into the twentieth-century taxi, nothing was amiss. “Scotland Yard,” he told the driver – meaning, of course, New Scotland Yard. He had no frisson of premonition, no encounter with a mysterious stranger… in short there was absolutely nothing to indicate anything unusual was about to occur. But when Cheviot got out of the taxi, he found himself at Old Scotland Yard… in the year 1829.

Cheviot finds himself part of Scotland Yard at its inception. The police are not seen as society’s protectors, but rather as a group of thugs with which high society needn’t bother. Apparently, everyone accepts Cheviot’s presence in 1829—perhaps he is re-enacting the historical role of an ancestor of his?—and it turns out that the original Cheviot was trying to join the newly-formed Scotland Yard.

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

The Anatomy of Murder: An Interview with Bill Pronzini

Well, ladies and gentlemen, my move to the seminary is now official, which makes this my first-ever blog post coming to you live from there.  (Unfortunately, my Internet access is much more tenuous, which means that I have added less pictures to the post than I'd have liked. I am not sure what this means for future blogging, but I'll figure it out in due time.) It gives me great pleasure to announce that today I am being joined by writer Bill Pronzini, whose work I have tremendously enjoyed and reviewed on this blog in the past. This interview is a follow-up of sorts to my review of Pronzini's Strangers, which I recently reviewed here. Without further ado, below is the interview I conducted, and which Pronzini was kind enough to answer.


*****


1. I have an old paperback copy of your novel Blowback, which features praise from John Dickson Carr on the front cover: “An immensely likable addition to the roster of private investigators.” What was it like being the “new kid in town” in the 70s? Did you ever get to meet or correspond with some of your writing heroes?

When I first began publishing crime fiction, I was one of the youngest writers in the business.  Now I’m one of the oldest…

JDC’s praise for Nameless, in his review of the series debut novel, The Snatch, was the first I received from a major writer in the field and forever endeared him to me.  I had some correspondence with him in the mid 70s, in which he encouraged me to write more detective stories (I’d begun to do standalones by then, with Snowbound), but unfortunately didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him.  I did get to meet and break bread with Evan Hunter/Ed McBain, one of my boyhood idols, Fred Dannay, Clayton Rawson, Kenneth Millar, and William Campbell Gault who became a close friend during the last several years of his life.  The one writer I regret neither meeting nor corresponding with is Thomas B. Dewey, whose Mac series was a major influence on Nameless in his and my formative years.

2. Nameless made his debut in novel format in 1971, with The Snatch. Now in 2014, he’s appeared in his 43rd book. Did you ever imagine the series would be this successful? Is the series as fresh for you to write now as it was then?

No, I never imagined that the series would last anywhere near this long.  Frankly I’m amazed that it has.  The reasons, I think, are two fold:  One, the evolution of Nameless as the focal character and of me as a writer honing (still trying to hone) his craft.  As you pointed out in your review of Strangers, Nameless is not at all the same individual now as he was in the beginning; he’s grown, aged, had his personal and professional life altered by circumstances planned and unplanned, positive and negative.  Just as I have, just as we all have.  He has been referred to, not always favorably, as an Everyman detective – one who does his job without fanfare or glitz, and occasionally in a nonheroic fashion, and whose private life and relationships are given as much weight as the cases he undertakes.  I consider the Everyman tag a compliment.  In my view, the series is an ongoing biography of a decent, compassionate, reasonably intelligent human being (I hope) who also happens to be a detective.

The second reason the series has lasted lies in the fact that I make an effort not to write the same book in the same way twice, but instead try different approaches with each one:  single, double, and multiple plotlines, different formats (the shift from straight first-person narration to a combination of first and third) and stylistic tweaks.   Experimentation helps keep the series fresh for me and thus for the reader.  Of course, this approach isn’t always successful.  In Hellbox, for instance, I combined the detective story with an intensely personal psycho-thriller plot, emphasis on the latter; I thought it worked well enough, but a lot of readers disagreed.  Too emotional, too bleak, they said, and the mix an uneasy one.  They may well be right.

3. One of Nameless’ old friends appears in Strangers, a woman we have not seen in the series for a very long time! It’s not the first time you revisited a character from earlier in the series – you did it in Shackles, for instance. Why did you decide to revisit these particular characters?

Partly for the reason stated above:  revisiting characters from previous books and stories is just one more way in which to experiment.  Also, I enjoy writing stories which have their roots in the past.  The villain in Shackles, the former pulp writer Russell Dancer introduced in Hoodwink, Cheryl in Strangers all interested me enough to want to explore what became of them after their initial appearances, how their lives changed and what happens when they once again intersect with Nameless’s.

4. One of the more cliché questions authors get asked is “Where do you get your ideas?” But not every idea makes it to the page. Once you’ve gotten hold of your idea, what’s the next step? How do you go about transferring those ideas from your head to the page?

My novels are character-driven, so normally I start one with a basic idea or theme, two or three characters, an opening situation, and a vague notion of the direction I want the book to take.  The story’s progression depends on how the principal characters and their interaction with one another develop.  So in effect, writing a novel becomes the same voyage of discovery for me as for the reader.  (The only one I’ve written in which I had the entire progression worked out from the beginning is The Crimes of Jordan Wise, coincidentally one of my three or four best books.)  Utilizing this approach means occasionally writing myself into a corner, which then takes more than a little rewriting to get out of, but that’s a small price to pay.  I do a lot of rewriting anyway before I’m satisfied with any piece of fiction.

My approach to writing short stories is generally just the opposite.  When I get an idea for one I work out the opening and the ending, then draft both before continuing with the rest; that way, with the ending already done, I know exactly where the story is going and the effect I want it to have.  Unorthodox, I guess, but it works for me. 

5. You are married to a fellow crime writer, Marcia Muller, and you recently began collaborating on a series of novels about John Quincannon and his partner Sabina Carpenter (beginning with The Bughouse Affair). What does the collaboration process between you two look like?

Collaborating with Marcia has always been an enjoyable process, since her approach to the craft of fiction is the same as mine.  On the C&Q novels, we do a bit more advance plotting than on our individual books, outlining a few chapters at a time, after which she writes the scenes from Sabina’s point of view and I do those from Quincannon’s.  Since the characters were my creations to begin with, I sometimes do a bit of tweaking on the Sabina chapters for the sake of consistency.  This was the method for the first three books in the series.  I did most of the writing on just finished C&Q #4, The Plague of Thieves Affair, because Marcia has been working on a difficult plot and tight deadline for her next Sharon McCone novel.

6. Do you plan out the events of your series in advance, or do you do it on a book-by-book basis? Will Nameless be returning soon? Are there any other books you have in store?

On a book-by-book basis, except for personal storylines such as Kerry’s breast cancer which carry over from one book to another.

The next Nameless, Vixen, has been delivered and will be published by Tor/Forge in July of next year.  It’s an expansion and revision of the novella “Femme” which Cemetery Dance published as a limited edition in 2012.  Pure noir, this one, very dark, and atypical of the series in that…well, no spoilers here.  Cemetery Dance has another limited edition novella, “Revenant,” scheduled for late this year or early next.  The 2016 Nameless title will tentatively be a collection of four stories, titled Quartet – two novellas, one original to the volume, the other “Revenant,” and two short stories.

In December Perfect Crime Books will publish a collection of my nonseries short stories, The Cemetery Man and Other Darkside Tales; it’ll be available in both trade paperback and e-book editions.

The third C&Q novel, The Body Snatchers Affair, is scheduled for publication in early January.

7. You are recognized as an expert on the crime fiction genre – you’ve written some terrific books on the subject, such as Gun in Cheek, Son of Gun in Cheek, or the massive collaborative project 1001 Midnights. And rumour has it you have a pretty sizable collection of pulps, mystery novels, and other good stuff! How did your love for this fiction start? Any items in your collection you’re particularly proud of?

My passion for crime fiction began at around age ten, when I discovered the Ken Holt YA novels by “Bruce Campbell” – The Secret of Skeleton Island, The Clue of the Marked Claw, etc.  Far superior, these, to the Hardy Boys books.  I graduated to adult fiction a few years later:  science fiction and mysteries from the library, and then paperback originals, especially those published by Gold Medal, in my mid teens.  Also digest mystery and sf magazines, which my grandfather regularly read.

Our house fairly creaks with hardcovers, paperbacks, pulp and digest mags (I have about 3,000 pulps, half the number Nameless owns) – some 25,000 or so at a guess.  Most of the books are crime fiction, with fair numbers of sf/fantasy, western, mainstream, and nonfiction volumes.  Just a few highlights:  a complete run of JDC/Carter Dickson/Carr Dickson first editions in dust jacket; similarly complete FE runs of Fredric Brown and Evan Hunter under all his pseudonyms; and jacketed FEs of most of Chandler’s novels including The Big Sleep, most of Steinbeck, Cain’s Postman Always Rings Twice, McCoy’s They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? and Rawson’s Death from a Top Hat (inscribed).

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Elementary, My Dear Holmes!

This article was originally written for and published in the e-zine Mysterical-E. Now that there is a new issue with a new article, I am reposting this article on the blog, complete with the images that I usually illustrate my articles with.
 

In Bloody Murder, Julian Symons’ famous survey of the mystery genre, Symons writes that “successful comic crime stores, short or long, are rare. One turns away with a shudder from the many Holmes parodies (…)” Perhaps Julian Symons didn’t have much of a sense of humour, though something resembling one does shine through in his book from time to time. Either way, Symons does Holmesian literature – both parody and pastiche – an enormous injustice by dismissing it as he does. He doesn’t really take the time to appreciate the Holmesian literature that has been written over the years.

Symons’ caution is justified in some cases, but with such a huge output of Sherlock-related literature, you can only expect some pastiches to be less successful than others. Holmes seems to have particularly bad luck when he is brought to Canada. Ronald C. Weyman’s Sherlock Holmes: Travels in the Canadian West is one of the worst collections of Holmesian pastiches I have ever read. The mysteries are frankly laughable, and the premise is absurd: apparently, during Sherlock’s Great Hiatus (after his disappearance at the Reichenbach Falls) the detective wasn’t really in hiding… no, no, Dr. Watson and he were just in Canada, chilling with the Indi–– er…I mean, Native Americans (for we must be Politically Correct, my good Watson). No, really—he doesn’t even bother to use a fake name, he keeps introducing himself as Sherlock Holmes. But throughout this time Holmes potentially has Colonel Moran’s rifle aimed at his head from any window. Certainly not the Great Detective’s smartest move, and indeed, the entire book often reads like a fictionalised history textbook, with Watson spending too much time telling you about historical figures, customs, etc. The book is even illustrated with well-known images of Canadian history, making the whole thing that much more like a history textbook… and that much duller.

Monday, April 09, 2012

Mountain of Mystery

According to legend, Monte Verita was the site of an impossible disappearance from a grotto. But that happened so long ago—surely the tale must have been embellished. After all, nothing like that could possibly happen in real life, right? Besides, it is 1938 and we’re attending a worldwide mystery convention—if something were to happen, there are many amateur sleuths on hand to solve the case!

One of these mystery addicts is Pierre Garnier, newly wed to his wife Solange. Pierre is something of an expert in the mystery genre and he is delighted at the opportunity to meet so many enthusiasts. But as fun as it is to participate, some of the members get involved in quarrels with each other. Finally, one member accepts a challenge to duplicate the feat of the impossible grotto disappearance… but before he can pull this feat off, he himself is murdered in a locked room!

It’s a good thing the police saw the guilty party at work: a woman was seen stabbing the victim and then closing the blinds… but the description of this woman oddly resembles Pierre’s new wife Solange, who has never really told her husband anything about her past… and just before his death, the victim confided in Pierre that his wife was a multiple murderess…

Sunday, December 11, 2011

A Challenge to the Reader

John Dickson Carr was one of the finest grandmasters in what he called “the grandest game in the world”. For years, he stumped mystery readers with his locked room murders and various impossible problems. In the 1950s, he turned to the historical mystery after deciding he neither understood nor liked the direction the modern world was taking. You could say this began in 1950 with The Bride of Newgate. The 1952 novel The Nine Wrong Answers, although set in modern day, reflects Carr’s dislike of the times. However, the Master never loses focus on his story, and these feelings don’t come across as spiteful (as they do at times in the messy The Cavalier’s Cup). That's a good thing, because plot-wise, the book is one of Carr’s finest later efforts.

Our hero is Bill Dawson, who comes to the lawyers’ firm of Amberley, Sloane & Amberley. They have placed an ad in the newspapers asking for him to step forward— his grandmother has died and left him a small legacy of about 100 pounds. Bill is grateful that the old lady remembered him in the first place, but at the lawyer’s office, he meets Larry Hurst and Joy Tennent. Larry seems keenly interested in him, and when Bill leaves, Larry rushes out after him with $10,000, telling Bill he can have it all for six months’ work.

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

Devil Take the Hindmost

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part
And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.
— The Ghost, Hamlet (Act I, scene v)

When I recently read Roland Lacourbe’s book on John Dickson Carr, Scribe du miracle, I was particularly interested by a section of the book devoted to various John Dickson Carr homages, parodies, etc. One of these was described in particularly glowing terms: Whistle up the Devil by Derek Smith. I had heard of this book and was intrigued, and Lacourbe’s brief comment was the one that finally sold me on the book. Since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief: Whistle up the Devil has got to be one of the most fiendishly ingenious impossible crime novels ever written, period.

It starts off with the best trappings of a fine John Dickson Carr novel. Our protagonist is one Algy Lawrence, a young, good-natured, and somewhat naïve young man. “He could never hope to handle routine work with the quiet excellence which is the hallmark of the professional; but he could tackle the bizarre and the fantastic with expert skill.” One morning, he gets a call from his good friend, Chief Inspector Steve Castle. Steve has got a tantalising problem for him— no, nobody has been killed yet… but it just might happen

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Interview with Paul Halter (Part I)

Paul Halter is arguably the current master of the impossible crime mystery. I have read ten of his books (one of which was a short story collection) and I was consistently impressed with the way he handles variation after variation on the impossible crime. He has explained away everything from the phenomenon of bilocation (La Quatrième Porte; translated as The Fourth Door) to an invisible man (Le Diable de Dartmoor; meaning The Devil of Dartmoor). The explanations are often simple and elegant, and at the top of his game, Halter can write books and puzzles to rival those of his hero, John Dickson Carr.

Paul Halter
French publisher Le Masque published three omnibuses of Halter’s works, and each omnibus contains a preface. I was particularly fascinated by the introduction to Volume 1, which is an interview between Roland Lacourbe and Paul Halter. It had plenty of interesting information on Halter and his approach to mystery-writing, and I thought to myself “Wouldn’t it be great to get this interview translated?” However, I didn’t act on this right away because I didn’t want to inadvertently get myself into any legal trouble.

However, the thought persisted, and eventually I was able to get in touch with M. Roland Lacourbe via e-mail, who most graciously gave me permission to proceed with the translation. I'm indebted to John Dickson Carr biographer Douglas G. Greene for making this possible. I would like to thank M. Roland Lacourbe for his kindness and the support he's shown throughout the project. I would also like to thank those who took a look at this translation and gave me helpful suggestions on improvements, particularly Barry Ergang, Xavier Lechard, and John Pugmire. Finally, another set of thanks goes out to Xavier Lechard, who helped me with footnotes about figures who will likely be unfamiliar to English-speaking readers. 

Monday, November 14, 2011

A Rant Against the Word "Cozy"

The term “cozy” really rubs me the wrong way. It’s not necessarily the word itself, which describes a niche of the mystery market decently: a book where everyone is nice and polite, the detective has a perfect love relationship, and there are plenty of cats to act as animal sidekicks. What really irks me is how this term is abused and stuck onto books and authors that do not fit the label in the least. As a result of this tomfoolery, many authors are branded with this simplistic and unfair “cozy” label.

Agatha Christie gets the most unfair treatment in this regard. Critics gleefully describe her books as “cozy”, citing her idyllic villages and how order is restored to these idyllic villages after some crime, with life going on as before. (Not to forget the usual snide remark about her upper-class worship.) To this I loudly proclaim: “Bah, humbug!”

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Ministry of Miracles

John Dickson Carr: Scribe du Miracle is a fascinating book by Roland Lacourbe, a French critic who is no stranger to this blog. I have mentioned Lacourbe several times before, usually in connection with Paul Halter. I’ve found Lacourbe’s introductions to Halter’s works excellent, and he conducts a brilliant interview with Halter in the first of the three Masque omnibuses.

Unfortunately, to my knowledge, there was only one copy of Lacourbe’s book in all Canadian libraries, and they wanted me to pay around $20 to get it via Interlibrary Loan. It is sometimes available on sites like PriceMinister, but for rather high prices— the lowest I’ve found right now is 36,10€. So it seemed like I was doomed to not read this book anytime soon.

Until I found out something about my university library: they could get a hold of Lacourbe’s book via RACER (their version of Interlibrary Loans) for free! I rejoiced at the prospect and placed a request, expecting to wait a few months. I got the book after two weeks, and have been reading it on the side for quite some time now.

Friday, October 07, 2011

Rules were made to be broken...

[Note: I am trying out something new today on the blog: instead of reviewing a book, I am discussing my impressions on a topic and trying to put them in a cohesive article. Feedback on this experiment is much appreciated, as I would like to include more posts like this in the future and would like to improve them.]

"This means war!"
—Daffy Duck, Who Framed Roger Rabbit

My reaction to James' book...
In her book Talking About Detective Fiction, P. D. James has a curious fixation for Ronald Knox and his “Ten Commandments” for detective fiction. This is one of the many points about the book which rather annoy me. Knox was not the only one to come up with rules, but James never even mentions this. She seems to believe that everyone took these rules as Law, and that any deviation was frowned upon with nothing but scorn. In fact, she goes on to say that “Rules and restrictions do not produce original, or good, literature, and the rules were not strictly adhered to.” This is a stunningly silly statement—if it were true, we might as well throw every book of poetry into the rubbish bin, because they all adhere to one rule: they must not be written in prose. 

If all goes well, you will hear more about James’ book and my problems with it in a few days. But for now, I’d like to examine Father Ronald Knox’s Decalogue. Just how futile is this attempt to define rules for the genre?

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles...

My library has got an interesting feature on their website. After you log in to your account, using library card number and a pin, you can look up your reading history. This way, I can see every book I’ve ever borrowed out on my library card, from the time I moved to this city to the present day. One entry in particular interests me. On April 21st, 2008, I checked out three books that would change my reading life for good: The Three Coffins, Hag’s Nook, and Nine— and Death Makes Ten. All three were penned by John Dickson Carr, and I read them in that order. I was immediately captivated and started placing Interlibrary Loans left and right, placing myself at the mercy of the system to read more Carr. Then, when I found out that He Wouldn’t Kill Patience and The Eight of Swords were unavailable via ILL, I started haunting the local used bookstores, to the point where I’m on a first name basis with a few of the owners. I found The Eight of Swords quickly enough—it was the first in my collection, along with The Crooked Hinge, The Mad Hatter Mystery, and A Graveyard to Let. Other titles were more elusive…

Then, on July 4th, 2009, I checked out a book by Douglas G. Greene: John Dickson Carr: The Man Who Explained Miracles. I delayed borrowing it out for quite a while. I thought it would be a stuffy academic criticising Carr and his writing left and right, throwing in never-before suspected connotations about his sexuality every other page.

As it turns out, I was completely wrong.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Bloody Murder

“He liked his John Dickson Carr,” said Julie, standing in front of the books. “He’s got at least forty here. The other writer he collected has a similar name in a way—Carter Dickson. I wonder if there’s a connection.”
     Julie Hargreaves while examining the victim’s books, Bloodhounds

My introduction to Peter Lovesey’s work was far from the best— I read and was disappointed by Mad Hatter’s Holiday. The second Lovesey I read was far more encouraging— Rough Cider was written remarkably well, with a colourful setting and excellent characters that fuelled my interest in the book. Although I highly enjoyed it, it didn’t quite convert me into a fan— but when I opened Bloodhounds, I had high expectations. After 120 pages, I could safely say that I was now a fan of Peter Lovesey.

Bloodhounds is a delightful book from start to finish. It’s a marvellous tip of the hat to the Golden Age mysteries I admire so much, and in particular to my favourite author, John Dickson Carr. Lovesey creates a group of characters who are mystery enthusiasts— they call themselves the Bloodhounds and they meet once a week to discuss mysteries. They are an unusual and very mixed lot— some, like Rupert, like “crime noir”; others, like Milo, enjoy classical puzzles. Through these characters, Lovesey gets a lot of talk about mysteries going, bringing up some decent points but also getting across a sense that the author enjoys mysteries too. You’ll find none of Julian Symons’ general air of condescension here.

Friday, June 10, 2011

A Borrower of the Night

The opening of The Bride of Newgate is stunning. Dick Darwent is in a dark cell in Newgate Prison, awaiting to be hanged in the morning. Meanwhile, Lady Caroline Ross confers with her lawyer, Elias Crockit, and Sir John Buckstone. According to her grandfather’s will, Caroline is to marry before her 25th birthday, or else she will lose her rights to her grandfather’s fortune. The lady finds the prospect of marriage distasteful, and is bitter at her grandfather for creating such a will:

“Do you recall,” Caroline said dreamily, “any particular phrase in the writing of that will?”
“I have forgotten it.”
“I have not. ‘She’s a stubborn filly, and needs the whip.’ — Let us see!”

Caroline eyes Dick Darwent as the perfect escape— she will marry him, pocket her grandfather’s money, and then watch with joy from her champagne breakfast as Dick Darwent is hanged from the neck until he is dead. Dick has nothing to lose, and is offered 50 pounds, which he intends to leave to his lady-friend, Dolly…

Murder in Retrospect

When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the moonlight flies,
And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies –
When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs bay at the moon,
Then is the spectres' holiday – then is the ghosts' high-noon!
— Sir Roderic Murgatroyd, Ruddigore


The best part about John Dickson Carr’s The Ghosts’ High Noon is probably the title. Those words are absolutely brilliant, conjuring up ghostly images appearing in dark shadows, with a full moon in the sky… Unfortunately, the rest of the novel falls short of this brilliance. Which isn’t to say the novel is bad; in fact, it’s rather good stuff. It’s a good effort overall by Carr, but it fails to cash in on the promise of ghostliness the title makes.

The novel takes place in 1912 New Orleans, and Jim Blake is its hero. He is a reporter-turned-author, who wrote a best-selling thriller, The Count of Monte Carlo. He is sent on a special assignment to New Orleans, to come up with an article on Congressional candidate James Clairborne (Clay) Blake. Strange things begin to happen, as Jim is convinced someone is following him in Washington. On the train, someone knocks at a compartment he is occupying, but when he opens the door, nobody is there, and two railway officials on opposite sides of the hallway are willing to swear nobody went by them! Things culminate when Jim’s friend Leo Shepley recklessly drives his car into an abandoned shed: a gunshot rings out inside, and when witnesses rush to the shed, Leo is lying on the floor, a gunshot wound in his head… with no gun anywhere in sight!

Death makes a curtain-call...

It is a peculiar irony that, although I always claim John Dickson Carr is my favourite mystery author of all-time, I have not yet reviewed one of his novels on my blog. When I decided to begin this blog, I just missed the opportunity of writing a post on Carr’s brilliant tour-de-force, Fear is the Same. I don’t want to blaze through what little Carr is left unread by me, which is why of late I’ve spread out my Carr reads. However, I have abstained from Carr far too long by my estimation— I just turned 18 last month, and I decided (as a belated gift to myself) to treat myself to a John Dickson Carr trio. This is the first of these novels: John Dickson Carr’s Panic in Box C.

Lady Tiverton, before she married the late Lord Tiverton, was an actress named Margery Vane. As a young girl of 18, she bewitched the famous ageing actor Adam Cayley, who created a theatre company and determined to perform Romeo and Juliet, with him and his beloved in the main parts, despite his being over 60. He dismissed the doctors’ warnings about his weak heart and subsequently died onstage. The company subsequently failed and eventually disbanded. Margery Vane went on to have a rather successful career before retiring.

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Reactivated Agent's Hem

When I read Doug Greene’s brilliant biography of John Dickson Carr, The Man Who Explained Miracles (my library seriously runs the risk of not getting its copy back one of these days), I also looked in the appendices, which included a comprehensive list of works authored by Carr. In this list, Greene also devoted a section to parodies of Carr, and one title caught my eye: Hocus Pocus at Drumis Tree by Norma Schier. I was intrigued by the idea of parodying Carr while making the names anagrams—“Drumis Tree”, for instance, is a clever anagram of “Murder Site”.

However, for quite some time, I was unable to find a copy of the story to read. I finally decided to buy a copy of The Anagram Detectives, an excellent collection of stories written by Schier. In this collection, she takes cracks at everyone from Agatha Christie to Ellery Queen to Michael Innes, and she manages to create clever mysteries as well! (Sometimes, after all, the joke in a parody is how ridiculous the solution is, or how the solution is never told, but endlessly delayed. Well, not to worry- that isn’t the case here.)

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Top 10 Plot Ideas


Hello, and welcome back to the scene of the crime!

You may be wondering, as an experienced mystery reader, just what kind of mysteries do I like? Do I have any particular favourites or recommendations to fellow mystery fans? Well, to answer your questions, here are my top 10 mystery plot ideas. These are not strictly in “worst-to-best” order, because they’re all fine ideas—I just get more and more enthusiastic as I approach my #1 selection. So, without further ado, let’s get started…