How to Write a Mystery Read online

  As the amateur sleuth is not paid for investigative services, the most daunting challenge for a writer of this subgenre is to justify the involvement of their protagonist in the story line. And if this is a continuing series, believability can be particularly strained. It’s up to the writer to create a convincing and captivating world for the reader. Writing an amateur sleuth novel requires a strong point of view that has to delight, thrill, or comfort.

  First of all, why this particular sleuth?

  Many writers, especially for their first series, create a character similar to either themselves or someone in their own lives. There is nothing wrong in this. The writer has inside information about a certain occupation, lifestyle, historical time, geographic region, or community. The challenge is to determine what essential, concrete details need to be integrated in your book to make your sleuth fly and not be weighed down by unnecessary minutiae. And perhaps even more important, to determine the organic motivations for your sleuth to solve the crime.

  First, you should consider what draws you to a particular type of character. Who do you root for? I’m attracted to underdogs and invisible people, individuals who are often ignored. Who do you feel is misunderstood? The pretty, popular young woman who is often depicted as an airhead? The older single woman? The stay-at-home dad?

  You might seek to make heroes out of the people around you. Do you want the office drone to finally find agency? How about a lawyer who in the real world is buried by the inefficiencies of the legal system? Or perhaps you want to find joy and meaning in an everyday life filled with delicious baked goods and crafting. All of these sleuths can find their place in a mystery—it’s your job as a writer to make it happen.

  Amateur sleuths need to be pungent and vibrant from the minute you meet them. This pungency can be represented in their appearance, speech, point of view, or relationships. Whether you choose to write in the first or third person, the narrative has to be laden with this fresh perspective and personality. I used to advise writers to pretend to interview their protagonist to help them build characters, but now I think writing an amateur sleuth mystery requires more than this superficial questioning. We need to dig deep inside ourselves and find themes and rhythms that distinguish us from other people.

  If you are writing in third person, explore the fullness of metaphors and similes from your main character’s point of view. Take what’s important to your sleuth and examine the world from their eyes. Ultimately it may be precisely those details that lead the sleuth to solve the crime.

  A longtime fan of the cozy mystery subgenre, the late Don Cannon, told me once that he likes learning about occupations in these novels. Stephen King, in his book On Writing, also observes that readers are fascinated by the subject of work. (This may be more of an American phenomenon.) If you are stumped with where to begin, why not start with your sleuth’s job? The beauty of the amateur sleuth mystery is that the main character does something besides detecting. Get immersed in that job or lifestyle. If you don’t have much firsthand experience, go visit an actual workplace and note the mundane aspects of the job. How do the workers carry themselves? What kinds of equipment, special tools, or clothing are involved? When do the employees take breaks, and are those on- or off-site? A deep dive into the profession will give you insights into how your sleuth differs from the thousands of other ones out there.

  Naming the Sleuth and Likability

  I am big on finding the right name for your sleuth. I’ve encountered other writers who can commit to going forward with their tale with xxx as a temporary character name, to be filled in later. But for me, the drive to write a story doesn’t go smoothly without the proper moniker.

  I look to the classics—Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, for instance. Do you know that the names Sherrington Hope and Sherrinford Holmes were under consideration? Do you think Doyle’s stories would have reached their epic heights with those choices? Both Doyle and Agatha Christie found inspiration for character names from friends, local police detectives in the news, and neighborhood buildings.

  Again, be mindful of what you may encounter in your everyday life. Make sure the rhythm and sound of the name rings true. If it’s an ethnically specific name, check whether it’s authentic and spelled correctly. In these modern times, you should also Google the name to see whether anyone has the same name. If no one pops up, you are probably safe. Check your fellow authors’ books, too. You may be surprised to see how many mysteries feature a sleuth with a similar name. As I wrote my Officer Ellie Rush bicycle cop series, I was surprised to see how many Ellies were featured in other mysteries. In response, I experimented with different first names, to no avail. Sometimes you can’t avoid the repetition. Own it and go on.

  There’s also the question of likability. Rather than worrying whether readers will like your amateur sleuths, you need to consider whether the characters are compelling and entertaining. (Truth be told, I gravitate toward cranky curmudgeons.) And as I once heard veteran writer Jan Burke advise, if you have an unlikable protagonist, add a likable sidekick. If this sidekick finds something redeemable in the sleuth, then readers will expect to, as well.

  Inciting Incident

  For many of us writers of amateur sleuth mysteries, the inciting incident—the discovery of the dead person—usually involves a loved one as either the victim or, more likely, the prime suspect. This makes sense for the first mystery or standalone, but how about for subsequent mysteries? Most skeptics point to the Jessica Fletcher quandary—why are so many people killed in the seaside village of Cabot Cove?

  Regarding this conundrum, I point to any other mystery subgenre except perhaps noir. There’s a level of fantastical thinking in the creation of most of these works. Most real private detectives don’t have exciting, action-filled cases; most of their time is spent sitting in cars, or on the computer. Homicide investigators rarely discharge their weapons. Usually the most obvious suspect from the get-go committed the crime. The country of Iceland, which produces some of the most harrowing popular murder mysteries, has very few homicides in a year.

  In comparison to these other genres, amateur sleuth mysteries are unfairly accused of being the number one offender in straining credibility. The writer needs to keep one eye on this, but what’s more important is to create a world where the reader doesn’t care if the body count is realistic or not. The incidents happened in your magnificent creation, and that’s all that matters. You might encourage your character to move around geographically, so the pool of potential victims is much larger. Or your amateur sleuth can begin to get a reputation for crime solving, which may bring people to their door. It’s a delicate balance, but one that all writers of series fiction must address.

  Relationship with Law Enforcement

  Of course, since we are dealing with murder, law enforcement has to have a presence in your book. But it can be anywhere from fairly limited to very close, such as an intimate or romantic relationship. Some have chosen to make their sleuth a former covert agent or crime fighter whose latent skills surface in dangerous situations. (Their connections can also be useful during the investigation.) Depending on your worldview, police officers can be depicted as either friend or foe. The more pressing question is how an amateur sleuth is going to detect and solve a crime that the professional investigator cannot. The answer lies in the sleuth’s “superpower”—whether that’s a special expertise related to the job, a relationship, or an underestimated personal characteristic.

  I’ve leaned on clues to develop one of my mystery series; in fact, after determining the theme of a certain book, I then figure out what specific clues will be the bread crumbs for my sleuth. These bread crumbs will be ignored by the authorities because they lack the cultural or horticultural awareness that Mas Arai, my aging Japanese American gardener, has. It’s a delight to select these clues, the physical objects that mean so much more than even the reader realizes.

  The Changing Sleuth

  Rex Stout’s Nero W
olfe is a great example of a literal armchair detective who doesn’t change much over time. He rarely leaves his New York brownstone and has a dependable assistant, Archie Goodwin, who also is unchanging. Yet Wolfe, with a plus-size body and a love for orchids, is definitely memorable, and his eccentricities keep the reader engaged.

  It’s still possible to successfully create this kind of static amateur sleuth who doesn’t have much of an emotional arc or backstory. During the early part of the twenty-first century, however, readers gravitated more toward the evolving sleuth who is able to reconcile the past and go forward by entering into new relationships and identities, such as by getting married or having children. Yet these trends ebb and flow with the times, and who knows—perhaps we will once again crave a hero who is more consistent and unsurprising. The more important issue is who you want to spend extended time with. Because when you give birth to an amateur sleuth, chances are that both of you are in it for the long haul.

  Questions to Ask When Developing a Sleuth

  Who do you personally root for?

  What kind of people do you root for?

  How do you or people around you feel misunderstood?

  What is your character’s superpower?

  What is your character’s Achilles’ heel?

  What is your character’s biggest fear?

  For Right Brainers Who Crave Lists

  I’ll be honest, I’m not an analytical writer. I didn’t learn how to write in a journalism or master of fine arts program. I learned by doing and writing, and writing from my heart.

  But I know some of you want more prescriptive advice, or at least more analysis. So here’s a rundown of different kinds of amateur sleuths, at least how I see it. This list, of course, is not comprehensive, and I hope new categories will continue to be created over time.

  Elderly Person

  Superpower: Their invisibility is their strength. Also life experience can provide more reference points to solve the crime.

  Challenges: Because of physical limitations, how can you make them compelling to follow?

  Advantages: Usually retired or semiretired, so they may have time on their hands. Also, they may rely on old technology, which can provide more opportunities to actually talk with suspects and witnesses.

  Examples: Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple; Mas Arai

  Proprietor of a Brick-and-Mortar Business

  Superpower: Expertise in their field, standing in the community

  Challenge: They need to be attached to their business, so how can they leave it?

  Advantages: The small business can be an interest point.

  Examples: Joanne Fluke’s Hannah Swensen; Cleo Coyle’s Village Blend; Jenn McKinlay’s Fairy Tale Cupcakes; E.J. Copperman’s Haunted Guesthouse; Abby Collette’s Crewse Creamery; Jennifer Chow’s Hollywoof; Carolyn Hart’s Death on Demand; Vivien Chien’s Ho-Lee Noodle House

  Lawyer or Legal Personnel

  Superpower: Understanding of law

  Challenge: Law can get boring.

  Advantages: Lawyers have plenty of opportunities to get involved with law breakers.

  Examples: Sujata Massey’s Perveen Mistry; Michael Nava’s Henry Rios; Lisa Scottoline’s Rosato & Associates; Alafair Burke’s Samantha Kincaid; Paul Levine’s Jake Lassiter; Sue Ann Jaffarian’s Odelia Grey

  Journalist

  Superpower: Reason to be nosy and ask questions

  Challenge: Traditional journalism is a dying profession.

  Advantages: Access to law enforcement, criminals, witnesses, lawyers, etc.

  Examples: Hank Phillippi Ryan’s Jane Ryland; Michael Connelly’s Jack McEvoy; Jan Burke’s Irene Kelly; Jill Orr’s Riley Ellison; Denise Hamilton’s Eve Diamond; Karen E. Olson’s Annie Seymour

  Parent of Young Children

  Superpower: Caretaking

  Challenges: What to do with the children as the sleuth investigates? And how to write realistic children that are not too precious or cloying?

  Advantages: Many opportunities to interact with different people connected to their children. Also, if they are full-time caretakers, their time is (somewhat) their own.

  Examples: Donis Casey’s Alafair Tucker; Ayelet Waldman’s Juliet Applebaum; Victor Gischler’s David Sparrow

  Service Provider

  Superpower: Physical mobility

  Challenge: If it’s a mundane service, how to make it interesting?

  Advantages: Travel from customer to customer. The writer can also explore underclass issues.

  Examples: Kate Carlisle’s Shannon Hammer; Barbara Neely’s Blanche White; Laura Levine’s Jaine Austen; Elaine Viets’s Helen Hawthorne

  Resident in a Small Town

  Superpower: Intimacy

  Challenge: Why are all these people dying?

  Advantages: Everyone in a big city dreams of living in a small town. The supporting characters, who are as important as the sleuth, provide fun writing opportunities.

  Examples: Donna Andrews’s Meg Langslow; Hannah Dennison’s Island Sisters; my Leilani Santiago

  Medical Professional

  Superpower: Knowledge about how to kill people

  Challenge: Overload of scientific details

  Advantages: These doctors, coroners, nurses, and midwives have constant access to life-and-death situations.

  Examples: Tess Gerritsen’s Maura Isles; Charles Todd’s Bess Crawford; Colin Cotterill’s Dr. Siri Paiboun; Edith Maxwell’s Rose Carroll

  Young Person

  Superpower: Optimism

  Challenge: As technology and youth culture change rapidly, how to keep your character current?

  Advantages: Young people have more energy, more free time, and fewer responsibilities than a middle-aged person with a family.

  Examples: Alan Bradley’s Flavia de Luce; Mark Haddon’s Christopher John Francis Boone

  Royalty / Wealthy Person / Celebrity

  Superpower: Fame, fortune

  Challenge: How to create a rich, successful sleuth that people will want to root for.

  Advantages: Access to any kind of resource. And the public likes reading about royalty and rich people.

  Examples: Tasha Alexander’s Lady Emily; Rhys Bowen’s Lady Georgiana Rannoch; Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter Wimsey; Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe

  Nature Worker

  Superpower: Knowledge of the great outdoors

  Challenge: Lack of regular human interaction

  Advantages: If you are good at physical description, you make this setting come alive.

  Examples: Nevada Barr’s Anna Pigeon; Dana Stabenow’s Kate Shugak; Sandi Ault’s Jamaica Wild

  Professional / Office Worker

  Superpower: Keen sense of seemingly trivia details

  Challenge: How to make the professional interesting?

  Advantages: If it’s your present or former profession, you may not need to do much additional research.

  Examples: Adam Walker Phillips’s Chuck Restic; Dianne Day’s Fremont Jones; Dianne Emley’s Iris Thorne; Patricia Smiley’s Tucker Sinclair

  Clergy / Religious Follower

  Superpower: Access to people’s innermost secrets.

  Challenges: Issues of confidentiality and limits of religious practices

  Advantages: Faith communities, with their special rituals, represent an insular world that readers may either identify with or desire to know more about.

  Examples: Julia Spencer-Fleming’s Clare Fergusson; Faye Kellerman’s Rina Lazarus; G. K. Chesterton’s Father Brown; Michael Lister’s John Jordan

  Academic

  Superpower: Knowledge of facts and history

  Challenge: How to place the eggheads in harm’s way

  Advantages: Travel to other locales or world-building at a university

  Examples: Elizabeth Peters’s Amelia Peabody; Gigi Pandian’s Jaya Jones; Cynthia Kuhn’s Lila Maclean; Dana Cameron’s Emma Fielding

  LINDSEY DAVIS

  Lindsey’s Top Ten Essentials for Aspiring Writer
s (of which there have always been eleven)

  Word processor—dump the beat-up Remington and the green ink

  Sensible chair—protect your back

  Mortgage as long as a telephone number to make you finish

  Fixed deadline and fear of missing it

  Scary agent

  Absolutely no routine

  Workplace sobriety—don’t drink and type

  Thinking time—let the brain do the work

  Warm room—thinking leads to hyperthermia

  A synopsis—write it, then ignore it

  A Good Idea—this really is a good idea!

  Finding Lou: The Police Procedural

  Are you a cop, or do you just play one on the page?

  RACHEL HOWZELL HALL

  I’m not a cop. I’m not a lawyer. I’m nowhere close to working as a first responder.

  I write—fundraising proposals, gift acknowledgments, donor update reports, mystery and suspense novels.

  But I live in Los Angeles, a city of four million people. A native, I grew up in this city—and not the parts of L.A. you saw on television. Not the shiny and bright L.A. in Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” music video. Not the slick and sexy L.A. filmed for Real Housewives of Wherever and Keeping Up with Whothehellcares. My Los Angeles is south of the 10 freeway but still close enough to the Pacific Ocean that the aroma of salt and sea mixes with the smell of fried chicken and cigarettes. Palm trees rustled in the courtyard of my family’s apartment in the Crenshaw District. The Hollywood sign, white and bright, sat on a hillside just a few miles away—I could see it from our kitchen window. That icon never felt like a thousand miles—even in South Los Angeles, we knew celebrities. Little Richard and Rerun sometimes came to my church for services. Ice-T frequented the same car wash on Crenshaw Boulevard that the rest of us patronized.