Sorry this is late. Hey! I’m busy writing! Seriously.
Anyway, because of that I’ve dug up one of my oldies, but goodies. This one from March 2016. I’ve edited the lead-in a little to remove references about “finishing up” my second Bernadette “Bernie” O’Dea mystery novel, because right now I’m on the fourth.
Other than that, this is good to go. Enjoy!
One of the surprising things I’ve found since my first mystery novel was published is that there are people who don’t read mysteries.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. There are genres I don’t read. But I was surprised anyway.
I’ve been reading mystery novels as long as I’ve been reading books, so it never occurred to me that some of the things about mysteries that those of us who read and write them take for granted come as surprises to those who don’t.
Some of the comments I hear from non-mystery readers who have read my books remind me of the elements that we take for granted in mysteries. I’d like to add that most of the people who tell me they don’t read mysteries, but have read mine, have been gracious. They all said they enjoyed [my books], so I’m hoping they are converts. There are always those, though, who have to march up to a mystery writer at an author event and announce the don’t like mysteries, with the implication they’re not going to read yours.
For those yet to see the light, I’ve put together this tip sheet.
CHARACTERS
I know. Every book has them. But their special role in a mystery novel is all-important. There will be at least one character, maybe more, who you care about enough that when they face danger (yes, they will, it’s a given), you get nervous and shaky. I love characters and they’re the most important thing to me in any book I read or write. Characters are plot — why people do what they do is the engine behind every good mystery.
INFERENCE GAPS
Ugh. I know! We’re back to college English class. I wish the term were catchier, but what this means is that there’s information that won’t be given to you right away. Things will be hinted at or referred to and you’ll wonder what it means. Don’t get frustrated and think the writer is leaving things out. Later, things may happen, both little and big, that will help fill in the gap. Oh! That’s why he said he’d never go to Rumford again! If the writer lays every detail out for you from the beginning, there’s really no reason to keep reading. You want to be curious enough about things that you’ll turn that page. The only exception to this is in a series, when things that happened in previous books are referred to. That may throw you off if you’re not starting with the first book, but hopefully it will intrigue you, too. My second book, No News is Bad News, started a few months after Cold Hard News ended. The third, Bad News Travels Fast, came about eight months after the second. It’d be nuts for some of the people in the book not to be affected by what happened previously. They keep saying they’ve moved on, but they haven’t and it shows. Written well, it shouldn’t have any impact on your understanding of the book you’re reading. Readers of mystery series are used to this, but you may not be. Solution? Go back and read the previous books!
RED HERRINGS
I’ve always loved this term. At least three people who read Cold Hard News remarked that they liked the fact there were clues that made them think someone else was the bad guy, or they were led for a while to believe a different motive. Red herrings! False clues. People who you think are the murderer, but turn out not to be. If you really want a full plate of red herring, I recommend Dorothy L. Sayers’ The Five Red Herrings. It’s got a train schedule time-table plot that I never could untangle, but the red herrings are delicious.
QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERING
Why is he acting like that? What did she take from the cupboard when Rupert left the room? Who killed that guy, anyway? Why? Things will happen and they won’t immediately be explained. This is different from the inference gap. These are BIG questions. As a reader, I’m not a plot person. When I read a mystery, I let the plot wash over me. If I figure it out before the end of the book, the writer didn’t work hard enough. But these questions are what builds the plot. I’ve probably read Sayers’ Murder Must Advertise seven or eight times, and I’m still not exactly sure how the plot does what it does. It’s not her, it’s me. I love it anyway. There’s one part involving an advertisement in a newspaper that could be interpreted as a double entendre, so someone at the advertising agency changes it, unwittingly throwing off the bad guys’ whole scheme. Like the red herrings, it’s delicious.
QUESTIONS ANSWERED
There’s something most writers — the good ones anyway — do that’s called playing fair with the reader. That’s you! This means that there must be enough clues salted through the book that the average reader has a shot at figuring things out. The murderer, in other words, can’t be the uncle from Pittsburgh who’s been living at a downtown hotel killing off his family and the reader never sees or hears about him until the last page.
COINCIDENCE
Yeah, there’ll be some coincidences. Some crazy ones. It’s how mysteries roll. Unlike real life, the mystery has to get solved, and sometimes you need one or two good coincidences to tie things together. The best writers keep them to a minimum and there’s an unwritten rule that big ones that solve the crime are a no-no. The better the writer, the more the rule can be broken. For instance, Kate Atkinson’s books are loaded with coincidences and they are wonderful and fantastic. I recommend any of the Jackson Brodie series. My favorite is. When Will There be Good News? A title I’d steal if she didn’t already have it. I also love Started Early, Took My Dog. Not just for the great titles, but for the books themselves. I would marry those books if that were a thing. They’re not really plot-heavy, they’re character heavy. Good characters and what they do are what make the best plots.
‘THREE TIMES WE’VE CROSSED PATHS, MR. BOND’
While characters are important, there shouldn’t be any who don’t play a role in the book whether it’s plot, character development, tone. Extraneous characters are a distraction. They’re not red herrings (otherwise they’d have a plot role), they’re not inference gap tools (otherwise they’d turn out to not be extraneous). A friend of mine calls it the Goldfinger rule (I don’t know if he coined it or someone else did, but it’s genius.) From the James Bond movie Goldfinger: “Three times we’ve crossed paths, Mr. Bond. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times is enemy action.” In mystery writing, it establishes the person. I like my friend’s rule so much I’m going to write a whole separate blog post about it soon. [Note from 2024: Another promise broken, dear reader. I never did. Maybe I will soon.] For now, I’ll say that every character in the book should mean something. In No News is Bad News I didn’t bring back some favorites from Cold Hard News because they didn’t have a role to play and there was no point in trotting them across the stage just so the audience could applaud with recognition. “Oh look! There’s Bev Dulac!” Then, 200 pages later, “Hey, what happened to Bev? She was there on page 27 and we haven’t seen her since.”
DANGER! DANGER!
You will like a character. That character will be put in jeopardy. If it’s a series and he or she is the protagonist, it’ll all end up okay (most of the time). You’ll be worried anyway, because that’s the fun of the mystery novel. This will happen, in a series, more to this beloved protagonist than will happen to the entire population of an average American city in a lifetime. A normal person would be dead or in a rubber room. But the plucky protagonist will keep bouncing along and you will accept it because you are reading a mystery series.
YOU WILL PAY ATTENTION
This is important with any book, but this blog post is about mysteries. I’ve had people email me or accost me in parking lots (it’s true!) wanting to argue plot points. I know I’ve read my book a gazillion times and most others have only read them once, but most of their questions are answered in the book. They just missed it. Don’t speed read it, dear reader. Don’t surf your phone with one hand and read with the other. If the writer is going to make sure she adheres to the Goldfinger rule, the least you can do is pay attention. I don’t mean to sound snarky, I’m just asking you to hold up your end of the deal. [Another note from 2024: After three published books, this has become one of my biggest peeves when it comes to reader complaints. I can’t force you to pay attention to what you’re reading, but please do, since it’s a mystery with a lot of moving parts. #yourewelcome].
THEY DON’T HAVE TO BE TOO GRISLY, SCARY OR [INSERT WORD HERE]
This is a new one for 2024. I’ve had many many people since my first mystery was published almost eight years ago tell me they don’t read mysteries because they’re too grisly. Or they’re too scary. Or they’re too something else. As I said at the beginning, everyone has their own tastes. One thing I will say about mysteries though, is they span a huge range, from cozy to hard-boiled to terrorific. Don’t lump us all into one category, because that’s not how we roll. If you’re mystery-curious, ask your librarian, local bookseller or the World Wide Web for recommendations of mysteries that aren’t the thing you don’t read mysteries because of. You will likely find one you like.
LACK OF SLEEP
You will vow before you go to bed to just read one chapter. Then you’ll look at the clock and it’s 3 a.m. and you’ve read 15 chapters because you just had to find out what was going to happen next.
And that, dear reader, is all you really need to know about how to read a mystery.
demands to be written. One year, it was two stories, and I had to make one wait while I wrote the other. This year? Nada. The urge to write a new story hasn’t arrive yet. So what does a write do when she void in the inspiration suit? Pull old stories out of the drawer and fiddle with them.
But now I am facing it, and honestly, rereading and editing old books is kind of fun. The first week I spent rereading a book called Memorial Acts. In truth, the working title for the book which is about how the mother and daughter in a military family let the loss of two husbands and fathers shape their lives, was called Blow Jobs for America. Not a title that’s easy to send to an agent, though these days it just might sell. The book isn’t a murder, although someone is murdered in the book. It would probably be called women’s fiction, or women’s fiction with elements of romance. It was fun to go back and reread it and decide whether I still liked the story. I do. It was only after I’d finished reading and doing a little light editing that I woke up one morning thinking: But in the first chapter, Amy is too unpleasant. I need to have her “save the cat.”
The “Save the Cat” scene is the scene where we meet the hero and the hero does something—like saving a cat—that defines who he is and makes us, the audience, like him. So in the book, Amy, who is tired and grungy after a long plane trip and a difficult business meeting, gets in a grubby cab and when the driver does something careless, she yells at him. And then, not liking herself for her attitude and behavior, apologies, the drive apologizes, and she learns that he’s distracted because he has to drive the cab to make money while his wife is in the hospital having their baby. Grumpy changes to compassionate, a connection is made, and Amy is revealed in a better light.
Rereading the book also reminded me of this: I wanted the book to open with Amy discovering that she’s gotten the wrong the suitcase at the airport and the one she’s brought home holds some very odd items. Curious about what to put in that suitcase, I asked my FB friends for suggestions. What I ended up putting in that suitcase, instead of the cute flannel pjs with cats she expected to find, were a bloody clown suit large enough to fit a tall man, an old photograph, and a bundle of antique silver wrapped in a silk nightgown. That set the stage for the man who shows up with her suitcase, and what his story is.
Books can begin in so many different ways. With a character. With an event. With a scene that makes me wonder why these people are in this situation. Sometimes with a character who raises the question: who is she and what’s her story? The whys are always a significant driver of story. Memorial Acts didn’t begin with Amy in her taxi. It began with a prologue about a cop holding a dying man in his arms on a rainy night in a filthy alley. That scene is still in the book but not until much later. But it was that scene—the feeling of the night, the power holding a dying man had over the cop who found him—and my immense curiosity about what the story was, that led to a novel.
On a brisk February day in 1934, a stolen state police weapon is in the guile hands of an unstable criminal. From his perch inside the bank, he sees a policeman sprinting toward the front door. With the officer in his sights, the gunman steadies himself at the window and places his finger purposefully on the trigger.
The last time I sat for a professional photoshoot was for the yearbook in high school. I never imagined a photo of me was so important among the checklist items gathered for the cover layout for my first book, “Machine Guns & Typewriters.”
I didn’t realize just how perfect this particular Moser showroom was until the photographer needed a moment to change lenses. Holding my posture for the next set of shots, my eyes wandered out the plate glass window at the front of the store. I describe the moment like in the movie, “The Usual Suspects” when the detective dropped his coffee mug realizing he had been duped by the criminal himself spinning lies inspired by objects around the office as he fabricated a spontaneous story about “whodunit.” As I sat recalling chapters and scenes from “MG&T” the 1934 universe I have come to know clicked into place and I realized key story moments unfolded just outside the doors of the showroom proximity.






A couple of months ago, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed (always a mistake, but better than that hellscape which is now the ominous X), when I came across this painting. It engaged me immediately: the sheen on the jar and dish, the imperfect apples grown long before they got sprayed to waxy and bug-free oblivion. I looked at the caption and was stunned to see Mondrian was the artist.





He also wrote essays, short stories, liner notes for albums, poetry, movie reviews, mysteries for children and novelizations of television series like The Man From U.N.C.L.E., The Partridge Family, The New Adventures of Charlie Chan and of movies like Beneath the Planet of the Apes, Shock Corridor and Cannonball Run.





But he also got a few kudos (and a 1989 Anthony Award for his last Ed Noon novel, High Noon at Midnight.) Author Bill Pronzini, who reviewed a few of Avallone’s books, wrote “Ed Noon is the least sexually arrogant private eye in the mystery history. When the heroine tells him she finds him attractive, he is almost pathetically grateful. He goes on to share with the reader his almost unbearable loneliness… This human quality is extremely refreshing. It is part of the way Avallone’s characters talk about fundamental human needs.”
In The Case of the Bouncing Betty (1956) a 440-pound female mattress tester becomes Noon’s client. Private Investigator Noon was originally a rather straightforward variation on the classic pulp private eye. But as the series developed, it became increasingly original and eccentric, with unique characters and plot devices.


It contains a group of small stories, written to be brain-teasers. Each is supposed to have an “aha” that the reader needs to pick up on to solve the mystery. GoodReads reviewers find most of the stories successful.
















