My first guest blogger: cozy mystery writer Marni Graff

Marni Graff

The Art of Mystery: It’s Not Just a Puzzle

There’s a reason Agatha Christie’s mysteries are outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare. Despite the differing variations within the mystery genre, they all have one thing in common that readers embrace: the solving of a puzzle.

Subgenres are categorized by the level of violence contained in them, and this ranges from the least, such as cozies and amateur sleuths like Miss Marple where the puzzle is the prime factor, to action and thrillers, which up the ante in violence and psychological suspense.

Yet all of these variations can probably be classified into three main categories:

Whodunit: where the identity of the criminal is initially unknown, and discovering that identity is the focus of the story.

Whydunit: where the criminal’s motive is the focus; sometimes their identity is revealed early in the story.

Howcatch’em: where the focus is the means by which the detective/PI/hero catches the killer, and both identity and motive may be revealed earlier.

Devices all of the subgenres will contain are:

Red herrings: a clue or piece of information intended to be misleading, or distracting from the actual question or situation. This can be suspects, physical bits of information and evidence, even misleading lines of inquiry that don’t pan out.

Plot twists: a radical change in the direction or outcome of the plot, used to keep the interest of the reader, surprising them with a revelation, new evidence, or a change in action. Some ‘twists’ are foreshadowed.

Foreshadowing: hints to readers at a possible outcome or twist, within the confinement of the narrative. Can pertain to theme, plot or ending. Can use similes, metaphors, symbolism or dialogue.

Cliffhangers: put a main character in a precarious or difficult position or dilemma, or have them confront a shocking revelation. Used often for chapter endings to push readers to continue on to the next chapter.

These are the usual conventions of crime fiction. But how does the writer distinguish between mystery and suspense and know which they are writing?

When writing true mystery, the reader should discover the mystery (puzzle) along with the protagonist. The reader expects the author to be fair. Many readers hope to figure out the puzzle before it is revealed to the protagonist.

When writing suspense fiction, the reader should know more than the protagonist. The author can show the reader things the protagonist doesn’t know, such as chapters from the antagonist’s point of view, to build suspense and the reader hopes the hero fill figure it out in time.

One caveat: both contain ‘suspenseful’ elements, which is created by increasing tension from the opening and not answering your pivotal question until the end—either whodunit, whydidit, or howcatch’em. Writers need to build on small clues, red herrings, cliffhangers, and plot twists to answer some of the minor questions while keeping the reader turning pages to get to the final big answer.

That’s it in a nutshell. But for anyone wanting to take a stab at mystery, be aware that most readers across the subgenres, from the sweetest cozy to the toughest violent action thriller want the same thing at the end: resolution that restores order.  This can take the form of the killer being caught or brought to justice (and the manner in which this is accomplished varies widely), or the kidnapped child restored to its parents, or the hidden family secrets revealed, or… whatever your imagination can dream up!

On Submitting work

Don’t let procrastination, hesitation, lack of marketing experience or fear stop you from submitting your work! (and be careful of those exclamation marks!!!)

We’ve all got good intentions. We’ve all see seen countless talented writers postpone their way all the way to the alley of failure. Some people never get their ideas on paper; yet others write and rewrite, and then revise again, but never get their submissions in the mail. And those that do sometimes fail to follow the EXACT requirements, so their work goes directly into the slush pile. Those that do, get discouraged by rejection!  Well, welcome to the real world of writers.

Set aside one day of the week for the BUSINESS, not writing —say every Friday you’re going to send out at least one piece.  My mentor, John Dufresne, said, No it’s not creative, nor fun, and yes, it eats your time and day, and is mind-boggling, but if you want to see your work published, guess what? You gotta pay the piper and just DO IT. 

Oh, and a little secret—a dear writer friend, Leonard Nash, author of the short story collection You can’t Get There From Here, (www.leonardnash.com) told me years  ago—if you want something to get picked up, then make sure you have at least twelve to twenty pieces circulating at all times. Got those numbers?

Read the instructions carefully in the GUIDELINES before you submit—5 poems, a short story, a short-short, flash fiction, an essay, a whatever, etc. REMEMBER that it’s 5 poems, not 6, and 2000 words, not 2045! If that’s what they want, give them precisely what they want.

Okay, now for the actual submission.  RESEARCH the review, literary journal or magazine and if you think you have a piece that “fits” then GIVE them what they’re asking for, nothing more and nothing less!

If you’re asked for a cover letter—write one.  Be brief.  Doesn’t have to be fancy--a simple introduction and what you’re enclosing.  If you don’t have the necessary or requisite publications for your author bio, write a different letter—say who you’ve studied with, mention conference, and /or workshops you’ve attended and with whom you've studied.   Mention your degree, if you have one or an interesting job.  If you can’t say anything with regards to the writing world, call yourself an idiot savant! Whatever you do, keep it short and succinct—no one wants to read three pages before they get a look at what you're actually submitting.

Send this material to the editor—if you know the person’s name—use it.  And send it to them the way they want it: by Word attachment to an e-mail, by an e-mail with the work in the body of the mail, or by snail mail with SASE.

Don’t change or invent your own method.  Just stick to what the editor or publication WANTS.

Oh, and, here’a biggie—get over yourself—you’re going to get rejected.  So what?  It’s all subjective anyway—what one person hates, the next reader/editor will adore!  Just pop that rejected piece in another envelope and send it off to some other editor. Of course, if the piece is man-handled and a mess, have the courtesy and good sense to make a fresh copy.  Also make sure to change your cover letter’s heading to the proper person.

Good luck. Don’t wait.  DO IT NOW! 

Dialogue

 Here’s what I know that may be useful for writing dialogue.  Always keep a notebook handy and write down everything you overhear or can remember from dreams!  Note the accent, the patterns of speech, the way people interrupt each other. Write down what they are doing when they speak and where they are when the conversation is taking place. Scribble a few words on their phraseology and the patterns and rhythms they use.

In a diner having breakfast with a friend, we overheard this: “You’re dead meat.  You’re so not worth it.  I pay the friggin’ bills and you drink beer with your buddies, watch the Dolphins lose, and slobber over Sports Illustrated’s Swimsuit issue. What? What did you say? What the f---? Take a hike, Harry.  It’s over. Finished.  As in done—like last night’s movie: The End.”

With that the blonde in a navy blue Nike sweat suit, slammed shut her micro-mini cell phone swathed in powder pink faux leather, tossed it in her bag, and proceeded to order breakfast. 

My friend whispered, “Did you get that?”

“Every friggin’ word, Harry.”

Can I use this material?  Probably not.  But I was lucky enough to watch while she was on the phone and maybe her actions while she spoke to Harry could be useful in writing a kiss-off.  The woman had the phone snug to one ear as she spoke into the phone and at the same time pulled out her cosmetic bag from her purse.  It was a small white Fendi.  From it, she extracted her mirror, a lipstick and a small pencil.  The minute she flipped the cell phone back in her purse, she called the waitress over and ordered breakfast for two.  Did I miss something?  Is Harry going to show after all?

She then outlined her lips with the small pencil, smeared lipstick all over her lips and blotted her mouth with a brown, re-cycled paper napkin several times.  She closed the compact, put it back in her purse, and smiled with smug satisfaction.  The next thing that happened was that a very handsome Latino-looking man walked over and kissed her on the mouth she’d just blotted so carefully.  She smiled at him, then licked her lips.

Aha!  So what do I know or did I just learn about dialogue?  It needs action.  There are two people involved in it at least even though not both can be seen. People need people.  Never leave a character alone too long so they have to speak to themselves or a mirror.  The dialogue has to occur in a place, a setting, otherwise, we have “talking heads.”  Someone is speaking and someone’s listening. If the other person is present, there will be body language to record.  There needs to be a reaction—and though we didn’t get Harry’s because the blue-suited Nike woman didn’t give him a chance, we know several things.  She was not really upset or emotionally charged about breaking up with Harry.  How do we know this?  Simple.  She was more interested in taking out her make-up to look good for the Latino guy and ordering breakfast.  No tears for blondie.  

So if I were writing a break-up telephone scene I would describe her actions, using the five senses and steal some of the dialogue.  Let’s approach the action and the senses and analyze what she did.  She touched the phone, spoke into it, listened while she asked, What? looked at herself in the mirror, felt the lipstick go on too thickly, wiped it off, tasted the Latino’s kiss. What’s missing? Smell.  Perhaps I’d write this scene adding something of the odors in the diner, the pervading smell of burnt toast, or perhaps have my blonde character apply some perfume or sniff the guy she kissed, savoring his aftershave.

The important things to remember about dialogue are these: make it sound natural and give us visuals.  When writing dialogue, use contractions so it doesn’t sound stilted, omit superfluous words, such as: Okay, yes, no, perhaps, maybe, hello, well, etc. and get to the meat of what’s necessary to say: dialogue moves the action of the story along and reveals plot.  Other things to do, which will come mostly in revision are these: eliminate “eye” dialect and overuse of jargon, and don’t have all your characters sound alike. Indicate who is speaking with action as well as “he said, she said,” and never assign attributes to how a person says a thing.  Avoid: “she said, sweetly, he said, angrily.” Skip the adverbs and show us instead by actions. Try to keep from using names—even in multi-person scenes.  We don’t usually talk like this: “Jen, do this,” or “Hattie, do that,” rather say: “Do it.” People cut off words, combine words, break off their thoughts; they interject words into others’ sentences and speech. The best way to catch errors or stick-figure dialogue is to read it out loud.

Stuck on Writing

In a lecture at Harvard, e.e. cumings once said: "If poetry is your goal, you've got to forget all about punishments and all about rewards and all about selfstyled obligations and duties and responsibilities etcetera ad infinitum and remember one thing only: that it's you — nobody else — who determine your destiny and decide your fate. Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else. Toms can be Dicks and Dicks can be Harrys, but none of them can ever be you. There's the artist's responsibility; and the most awful responsibility on earth."

This all boils down to one thing. No one can write like you do whether it’s poetry or prose.  Even if you get stuck, or your mind strays, or you feel there isn’t another bloody thing you can bleed onto the page, or if you’re writing is interrupted by thinking about recipes and how you can make the Chilean sea bass for dinner, you are writing. Simply take whatever it is and turn it into a scene, or at the very least, exposition or dialogue. Who cares if it's lousy?  You can always toss it.  but maybe, just maybe there will be a little spark--there will be a kernel of something you can really use.

Easy to say.  Try it.