Why Murder? by Nancy L. Eady

            Most people will agree that I am one of the mildest persons you will ever meet. I exude a harmless aura that draws strangers to me to ask for directions when I’m out walking around town or a crowded store. Years ago, in the late 90’s, I was sent to New York for a week on business. A group of us agreed to meet at a restaurant in Greenwich Village after hours. We all were staying at different hotels, so we traveled there separately. I got there early, and got lost, a few blocks off the beaten path. When I walked onto a street with a few Goth attire stores, and a few more people walking around in leather and chains, I realized I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. So, as humans mostly do when they are faced with the unfamiliar, I got scared. I decided the only way to convince people not to mess with me was to put on a “tough” face. That worked about three seconds; then I got so tickled at the idea of me trying to look tough that I couldn’t stop laughing at myself. It turns out people don’t mess with those they think are crazy either.

            My mildness makes me an unlikely person for writing mysteries. Because as an author, I have to put characters in not only dangerous but lethal situations. In order to spin my tales, I investigate ways for human beings to kill other human beings in new and creative, or at least sneaky, ways. But as difficult as that is, there is a flip side to writing mysteries as well. I write and read mysteries not for the joy of creating victims, but the joy of creating justice. As a writer and reader living in an imperfect world, at least in my fiction I can create a climate where people work together toward a common cause, and the good guys always win. Even though I can’t force those results in the real world, at least I can escape to a world where I make it happen.

            And that’s why I write about murder.

A Murder of Crows

by Tina Whittle

During the first week in my new home, I received several lovely housewarming gifts—a bottle of wine, a jar of preserves…and a tiny, pristine squirrel skull left on top of my deck post.

I don’t know which backyard denizen to thank for the present, but I suspect the crows. They are the UPS delivery crew of the marsh, toting bits of this and that here and there, usually in search of tasty tidbits but sometimes just for the heck of it. Or so it seems to me, watching them from my deck, dark and sleek against the Spanish moss and live oak leaves.

The crows in my yard announce their presence with a raucous “caw caw caw,” which is my cue to toss some unsalted peanuts their way. When I’ve delivered the goods, they use a different call, one that doesn’t match any of the recorded crow sounds on the Audubon site. It’s a lilting “kree-oh, kree-oh” and I suspect it’s their mimicry of my pathetic attempts to caw at them. I also suspect they’re laughing at me behind their wings, like Parisians do when Americans try to speak French.

Traditionally, a flock of crows is referred to as a “murder.” My etymological research revealed that this usage traces back to the 15^th century, when the idea of creating fancy collective names for groups of animals first became popular. These terms of venery (historical vocabulary referring to the hunting of game) were more poetry than science. Owls gathered in a parliament, peacocks in an ostentation, and ravens in an unkindness. The name for a bunch of geese depended on what they were doing—on the ground, they were a gaggle; on the water, a flock; and in the sky, a skein.

Biologists dismiss these terms as quaint hooey. For ornithologists, birds form families and flocks, not flamboyances and murmurations. Crows are no different, their dark epithets notwithstanding. And as much as I love murder—in the literary sense, I hasten to add—I agree with the scientists on this one. Crows are no more murder-y than any other animal (tiny skull on the deck notwithstanding). In fact, they are intelligent, creative, and devoted to their families. They make tools, recognize human faces, and are not above theft and manipulation (check out the YouTube video of a crow stealing a credit card at a Japanese train station, attempting to use the card at a ticket kiosk, and then, frustrated, giving the card back to its rightful owner). Crows feed family members when they are sick or injured, and they form tight-knit families, with newly adult birds staying on to help their parents raise the next generation. They can live almost twenty years, though they rarely nest in the same spot twice. And when they do murder—which is rare, but documented—it’s for reasons, infidelity being one of their recorded motivations.

I’m grateful to have them in my yard, grateful even more that we have some kind of relationship, these birds and I. Their delicate, bony gift was either a generous welcome, a flagrant bribe, or a thinly veiled warning. I plan to keep the peanuts coming regardless.

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Tina Whittle writes the Tai Randolph/Trey Seaver mysteries. The sixth book in this Atlanta-based series—Necessary Ends—is available now. Tina is a proud member of Sisters in Crime and has served as both a chapter officer and national board member. Visit her website to follow her on social media, sign up for her newsletter, or read additional scenes and short stories: www.tinawhittle.com.

Hazards of Research -- The Mystery Edition

It’s a story that went viral in only a few hours — a woman innocently uses Google to search for “pressure cooker” followed on the same computer by her husband who innocently uses Google to search for “backpack” followed by their son innocently using Google to reach for information about the Boston bombing . . . followed by a not-so-innocent visit from some well-armed gentlemen bearing pointed questions.

It sounds like the inciting incident for a mystery novel. But it really happened. Sort of.  As did the story of the novelist who wrote a blog called How To Murder Your Husband and who was indicted last year on charges of — you guessed it — murdering her husband. She is currently being held without bail as she awaits criminal trial—she is also facing a multi-million-dollar civil lawsuit filed by her stepson. I am virtually certain that part of her defense will be asking what kind of idiot would write such a thing and then actually do it.

As a crime writer, I tend to look at the news as idea fodder, fuel for the creative engine. These stories hit several particularly interesting subjects — Internet privacy, free speech, the broad powers of the NSA, the ethical and moral and civil rights issues of being spied upon by a faceless bureaucrat armed with equally faceless tracking programs.

I tell my friends and family that if I’m ever accused of a crime — any crime — I’m sure to be convicted once prosecutors share my search history. In real life, I’m a rather average person, as bland as a picket fence. Online, however, I’m a schemer, a wacko, a homicidal manic searching relentlessly for the perfect way to murder — holy cow, like, a dozen people — in ways both mundane and extraordinary. And then hide all evidence of the crime. Or blame it on some innocent. Or skip town entirely and set up shop in Belize under an assumed name.

I mean, I’m a member of a blogging group called Writers Who Kill. What evidence could be more damning?

Should writers who research the dark side worry about that official tapping at the door? Only as much as any other citizen. In the meantime, I’m using Duck Duck Go as my search engine — they make it a point not to collect or track information from their users. You can learn more about them (including their reasoning behind their decision to offer anonymous searches) at their website — https://duckduckgo.com.

So, just between us, what does your search history look like? What are you researching now that would make you look nefarious if you were ever on trial?

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Tina Whittle writes the Tai Randolph/Trey Seaver mysteries. The sixth book in this Atlanta-based series—Necessary Ends—is available now. Tina is a proud member of Sisters in Crime and has served as both a chapter officer and national board member. Visit her website to follow her on social media, sign up for her newsletter, or read additional scenes and short stories: www.tinawhittle.com.

The Ones Who Got Away With It

photo by bizoo_n

Agatha Christie once opined: "Every murderer is somebody's old friend." It's a reality that we mystery writers exploit every time we plot a whodunit. We insert our guilty party into scene after scene with other characters, people who once dated this person, who are related to this person, who have this person bake cakes for their special occasions. People who have no clue they're passing thisclose to a killer until the final reveal.

Every murderer – just like every victim – disrupts our social network, our web of connection. It is our sleuth's job to right this wrong and restore the order. But what about in real life? Do we too walk among killers?

Of course we do.

I recently saw a statistic proclaiming that during my lifetime, I will meet 37 murderers. It's a highly suspicious statistic because of all the unknown variables (like, for example, how many people an average American meets in a lifetime) but one data science analyst gave verifying it a good whack. He used some Fermi calculations, a logarithmic scale distribution, some solid facts (like the average number of murders in the US per capita per year, a third of which go unsolved), and a little speculative guesswork to put the number closer to 10.76 (you can read the specifics of his calculations here).

That means during my lifetime, I will meet approximately ten or eleven murderers. Which got me to thinking who they might be and how we might interact, these killers and I. So, with apologies to Wallace Stevens and his very fine "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird," I present the following:

 "Nine Ways of Looking at an Unapprehended Murderer"

The endocrinologist places cool fingers on either side of your neck and presses gently. "Any tenderness there?" he says.

The parking attendant stands beside your meter as it slowly ticks to zero. Her pen and ticket pad are already in hand. She has been standing at your car for five minutes.

The butcher wipes the blood off his hands and washes them well before he hands you the slab of chuck roast. Ground beef is on special today.

You run for the elevator. "Hold, please!" But the man in the expensive suit stares at you and lets the doors close.

The woman in blue jeans sits next to you at the bar. She orders the same thing you're drinking, smiles at you with all her teeth showing.

Your cousin borrows the truck. Again. At least he always brings it back clean.

The salesperson startles you. She'd been standing behind you the whole time, watching you read the placards in front of each microwave. She has said not a single word.

The bagger at the grocery store places your bread on the bottom and your potatoes on top. You unpack everything and instruct him in the correct way to bag groceries, putting the heavy items in first. You demonstrate slowly so that he will understand. The woman in line behind you, the one with only a gallon of milk in hand, stares hard.

You look in the mirror. Today is the day. You're going to confront them. You straighten your shoulders, take a deep breath. Your reflection does the same.

*     *     * 

Tina Whittle writes the Tai Randolph mysteries for Poisoned Pen Press. The sixth book in this Atlanta-based series—Necessary Ends—is scheduled for an April release. Tina is a proud member of Sisters in Crime and serves as both a chapter officer and national board member. Visit her website to follow her on social media, sign up for her newsletter, or read additional scenes and short stories: www.tinawhittle.com.

Matt Ferraz Interview by E. B. Davis

Matt Ferraz contacted me for a book review of his novel, The Convenient Cadaver (Grandma Bertha Solving Murders), a cozy English mystery. His book description hooked me. I didn’t promise a review, but I also didn’t turn down his offer of a free copy.

After reading the mystery, I had questions and decided to interview him about the book—written while he was getting his master’s degree in biography, a major I didn’t know existed but is available in England. His undergraduate degree is in journalism. The Convenient Cadaver is his third self-published mystery—quite a feat—keep reading and you’ll understand why.

Please welcome Matt Ferraz to WWK.           E. B. Davis

Matt—I find it remarkable that you not only wrote this book during graduate school (when most of us were trying to grapple with our school work) and did so at a relatively young age, but that you also wrote an English cozy and are a native of Brazil. Had you read a lot of English cozies? Were you fluent in English?

In Brazil we have basic English lessons at school, but apart from that I'm self taught. I've always preferred to watch movies with subtitles rather than dubbed in Portuguese, as most of my friends did. That helped a lot. And yes, I've read lots of English cozies, as well as other genres, in their original language. I'm also fluent in Italian and a bit of Russian.

Did you write the book in Portuguese or English?

The book was fully written in English. I prefer to write all my literature in that language, for the Brazilian publishing market is sadly very poor. We have great writers and a rich literature, but it's almost impossible for a newcomer author to be published and make some money out of it.

Although your plot is twisty and enjoyable, the book is character driven. Had you studied the mystery genre?

Yes, I've done a lot of research on the genre. Mystery novels are my favorite kind of literature ever since I learned how to read, so I'm familiar with it. But I wanted the book to be not only about a murder mystery, but also about this family relationship with an older relative. I was inspired by my own relationship with my grandmother. In fact many of Grandma Bertha’s lines are quoted verbatim from her.

Describe Grandma Bertha to our readers, please.

Grandma Bertha is an old woman who still wants to do something memorable with her life. She lives in a remodeled garden shed at her son's backyard with her three dogs, and loves to watch horror movies. Even though she's funny and witty, I think there's still some sadness to Grandma Bertha, for her life didn't go the way she expected. When she sees a chance to fix that, she grabs it without thinking twice.

Grandma Bertha lives with her son, Todd, and his wife, Lydia. All is not well between Bertha and Lydia. In the opening paragraphs, readers know of Lydia’s distaste for Bertha’s three dogs and that Lydia requires a glass of sherry prior to visiting Bertha at the converted garden shed she lives in behind the main house. Often daughters-in-law and mothers-in-law don’t mix well, but Lydia seems especially picky. At one point in the book, Lydia and Bertha discuss the case over a glass of sherry. They even seemed to be working together—giving me hope—but Lydia reverted to form. Is Lydia a hopeless dullard?

If you think about it, Lydia is 100% on the right. She's a middle-aged woman who gave birth a bit late in her life, her husband is desperately trying to get a promotion, and she has to deal with her mother-in-law who she's not fond of. She has a lot to pull through, and the idea that a murderer could be stalking her family drives her over the edge. I really don't blame her for being such a pain in the neck.

When the body of a young woman is found by the three dogs and subsequently by Lydia, what is Grandma Bertha’s motivation for solving the murder? Does she have any experience with investigating?

Many years ago, Grandma Bertha had the chance of helping the police with a murder case, but didn't do it because she was afraid to be wrong. Now she feels it's her obligation to help the police with this one.

Grandma Bertha seems a natural at asking suspects questions, but she actually relies on her considerable life experience to get the case facts. Although the characters are very different in personality, did you base Grandma Bertha on Miss Marple?

Yes, mostly on Miss Marple as portrayed by Margaret Rutherford, who's my favorite actress. Those movies are very different from Agatha Christie's original novels, but are still a ton of fun to watch.

In which POV did you write the story and why did you choose it?

I wrote in multiple POVs in this story, but the important thing is that I wanted the whole action to happen inside the Hepburn's home, including the house, the backyard and Grandma Bertha's shed.

Why would Lydia and Todd make fun of Grandma Bertha trying to solve the crime? Doesn’t Todd know his mother is crafty and smart?

Todd is another character with too much to deal with. He's afraid to stand for himself, so he takes his wife's side because she's stronger than he is.

Why does Inspector Shaw take Grandma Bertha seriously?

After so many years investigating crimes, Inspector Shaw is convinced that even the smallest and apparently silliest details may make or break a case. That's why he's open to hear what Grandma Bertha has to say. He doesn't want to dismiss anything that could possibly help him catching the killer.

Your characters transform from the beginning to the end of the book. What’s next for Grandma Bertha?

The next Grandma Bertha book will be a collection of short stories, which I hope to release in 2018. Right now I'm very busy ghosting some projects, but I will hopefully be able to release this in the first semester of next year.

Are you a beach lover, Matt?

I live far away from the sea, so every time I get the chance to go to the beach, it feels like a special moment. The same is true for Grandma Bertha.

                                                 The Convenient Cadaver by Matt Ferraz

When Grandma Bertha moved to her son’s place, she brought along her three dogs, several cases of beer and many, many Horror film DVDs. While her daughter-in-law insists on the idea of sending Grandma Bertha to a retirement home, a dead girl with three bullets on her back appears near the house. Once in her youth, Grandma Bertha let a murderer escape for not trusting in her own detective abilities. Now, armed with her wit and wisdom, she decides to solve that crime before the police. Could this crazy dog lady be a threat to a cold-blooded killer? And for how long can the family stand that situation?

Page One: A Killing Occurs

Our story opens with a body. In a cozy mystery, the deceased will have succumbed in some unusual and often humorously thematic manner, like being drowned in a vat of fabric dye or suffocated with organic cheese. In noir, the victim will lie unmourned in a dank alley, with only rats and derelicts for company.

I'm generalizing, of course. But no matter the sub-genre, there will be a body on the first page of the mystery, almost always.

I am not a fan of this trend. Yes, I know readers today like to get the story moving quickly, but that's a little too quickly for my tastes. I'm old school in that I prefer to get myself grounded in the setting and characters before the Big Bad happens. I want to settle into everyday life, feel the rhythms and rites of this place I'm entering. I want to know what's at stake here, what is being unraveled by the murderer's dark action.

Because this is where we want to return, this place of order. And if we jump too quickly into the chaos, we never get that twinge of loss at what had been. And it's important that we come face to face with that loss. The murderer has violated not only an individual, but an entire society. I want to see that society whole first. I want to become a part of its tapestry.

But now, more often than not, I barely get past "Chapter One" before blood is spilled.

The members of the YA book club that my Sisters in Crime chapter sponsors have expressed similar complaints. They are high school age and read widely across many genres. And they claim that they can tell if some well-meaning editor has completely upended a book's natural narrative just to get a corpse in the first paragraph. The plot loses its natural flow, they tell me. It jigsaws and teeter-totters and whiplashes. And they don't like that.

So yes, we're instructed as writers to begin "in medias res," in the middle of the action. And yes, we writers sometimes want to begin way too far back in the story, to our protagonist's first communion or some other dusty encounter. I am guilty of this, absolutely. I know that where I begin telling my story is rarely the point where its beginning will eventually be. I have to write my way to that point. But I know it when I write. I recognize it clearly and cleanly. And it is never the scene where my character finds a body.

Well. Almost never. Full disclosure – if you turn to the first page of my first book, The Dangerous Edge of Things, there's my girl Tai retching in the azaleas because, yes indeed, there's a body in the driveway. I wrote it that way because as an unpublished writer, I thought that was expected of me. And, I will admit, it worked. The murder plunged my new-in-town protagonist right into trouble with a capital T, leaving her as off-kilter and confused as the reader. But in every other book since, I've started by grounding the reader in Tai's life – in her gun shop, with her boyfriend, as she deals with her challenge of the moment – before I drop a killing in her lap.

What about you? Do you like your stories to start off with a deadly bang on the first page? Or do you prefer to get your feet wet before the capital crimes start happening?
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Note: My between-book short story "Not Even Past" is free today on Kindle: a love story, a ghost story, another love story, another ghost story, and lost Confederate treasure. Not a single murder – I thought my protagonists deserved a break before the onslaught of Reckoning and Ruin.