I Write Cozies (Jackie Fullerton)

Today´s guest blogger is Jackie Fullerton, American crime fiction writer. I read and reviewed her second novel “Revenge served Cold” recently and asked her what she thought about her books being branded ´cozy mysteries´. Thank you very much, Jackie, for writing a post for me.

I first heard the term “Cozy” at a Murder Mystery Writers Conference. For someone who fancies herself an author, I found it amazing that I had not heard the term before. Part of the conference involved pairing up authors with agents looking for new talent. The agent I had been paired with made it clear in one of her earlier workshops that she was not interested in any book with a supernatural flair. I felt my heart sink when my card revealed her name. Even though I could only dream of signing with her, my book had a ghost as one of the main characters. I was sunk. When our appointment came, I had a choice—skip the meeting altogether, or brave it and gain by the experience. I chose the latter. When we came face-to-face, the first words I found coming out of my mouth amounted to an apology because my mystery deals with a ghost. To my surprise, she waived that concern away and said she would still consider signing me as long as it wasn’t one of those cozies. Since I was unfamiliar with the term, I responded that I didn’t think so. She requested my first three chapters, and needless to say, I have not heard from her since.

Following the meeting, I set about educating myself as to what constitutes a “cozy”. As I now know, it is a murder mystery where the murder usually happens off stage; the protagonist is an amateur with “connected” friends—police department, coroner, etc.; and, there is no sex or profanity. In short, an Agatha Christy book you can curl up with in front of a fireplace and not be shocked or offended. Except for a little sex and a few “Damnits” and “Sons-of bitchs” in my books, they had all the elements of a cozy. There it was. I was doomed. Or was I?

After a few drinks and several hours of conversation with my fellow authors, I realized my fears were unfounded. There is no shame in writing cozies. A huge market exists and many readers enjoy a murder mystery without the gory details. There isn’t any disgrace in enjoying Agatha Christy or reruns of Murder She Wrote. When I write a story, it is my intention to create a light read—if murder can ever be light, with a little humor thrown in. A story that explores relationships as well as solving a crime. A book a person could pick up at the airport or take to the beach and enjoy reading.

Yes, my murder usually happen off stage and the protagonist is an amateur who uses her friend’s connections and abilities to help solve the crime. Hopefully, my readers will curl up in a chair, whether in front of a fire or on the beach, and enjoy a good read. If there is a smile on their face when last chapter is read, I have done my job.

Yes, I write cozies, and I am proud of it.

How to Cook Up a Cozy

Here is my second blog post written by an American writer of crime fiction (and a wonderful blog you must visit if you don´t know it already): Elizabeth Spann Craig

Thanks so much, Dorte, for allowing me to guest post today—and talk about cozy mysteries, my favorite genre!


I was a cozy mystery fan before becoming a cozy mystery writer. There’s something really nice about settling down with a gentle book, characters you feel acquainted with, a charming setting, and a puzzle to work out. If you’re new to cozies, you might be interested in the Cozy Mystery List (an exhaustive directory).

After reading a good number of cozies you’ll start to get a feel for their structure and pacing.

Here are some things to consider when writing your own cozy mystery:

Your sleuth: The detectives in a cozy mystery are usually gifted amateurs. You’ll want to make sure their involvement in the murder investigation is plausible.

Your suspects: Don’t overload your reader with too many suspects or they may lose track and wonder who the character is when the killer is unveiled! On the other hand, too few means there really isn’t much of an element of surprise when the murderer is revealed. I usually shoot for five suspects (six at the most.)

Your crime: In cozy mysteries, the murder takes place off-stage. When your sleuth or other character discovers the body, spare the reader gory depictions.

The puzzle: You’ll want to play fair with readers, who will enjoy figuring out the killer for themselves. Usually the solution is found in a clue or series of clues that point to the murderer. Complex forensics take a backseat in cozy mysteries...the fun is in deciphering the clues.

The setting: Although many cozies use rural or small town settings, cozies set in cities are also doing well. The cozy atmosphere can be created in a variety of places.

The method: Anything is fair game (blunt force trauma, strangulation, gunshot wounds, drowning), but again, you’ll want to stay away from graphic depictions of the victim.

The red herrings and clues: You won’t want to lead the reader too far astray for too long with your red herrings. But it’s fun to have your suspects tell both truths and lies to the sleuth—then we’ll need to piece together which is which. Your clues need to be clear to the reader, but you can use distraction as a method of diverting the reader’s attention from the clue when it’s laid.

The sidekick: It’s great if the sleuth has someone to bounce ideas off of. Otherwise, you end up in the internal monologue arena for long periods of time. Sidekicks can also provide a little comic relief, or provide the sleuth with a different perspective on the suspects.

Offbeat characters: One fun part of reading a cozy is the lively cast of characters. Cozies are frequently full of quirky secondary characters that threaten to steal the limelight from the protagonist.

Subplots and hooks: It’s not all about the mystery in a cozy. Many cozies now feature subplots that revolve around different hobbies or epicurean pursuits. These subplots revolving around hobbies give readers an opportunity to learn a little more about the characters, too, aside from their relation to the murder.

Other things to know:
You’ll want to keep an eye on your language. Minor or zero profanity is usually preferred by editors.
Having a cat in the book can’t hurt. :)
Word count—about 65,000 to 75,000, roughly.
It’s probably best to keep away from any cringe-inducing subjects as a new cozy writer—death of a child, animal cruelty, etc… cozies are all about the escape.

Above all, have fun and your enjoyment will shine through your words.

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Bio: Elizabeth writes the Memphis Barbeque series for Penguin as Riley Adams, the Myrtle Clover series for Midnight Ink (under her own name), and blogs daily at Mystery Writing is Murder, which was named by Writer’s Digest as one of the 101 Best Websites for Writers for 2010. Delicious and Suspicious releases July 6, 2010. As the mother of two, Elizabeth writes on the run as she juggles duties as Brownie leader, referees play dates, drives carpools, and is dragged along as a hostage/chaperone on field trips.

Elizabeth Spann Craig (Riley Adams) http://mysterywritingismurder.blogspot.com http://mysteryloverskitchen.com Twitter: @elizabethscraig

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And next Monday: come back for a new guest blogger.

Academic Crime (Margot Kinberg)

June is a very busy month for me so I am pleased that good blog friends are ready to help me out. Today´s guest post is written by Margot Kinberg, California, an excellent blogger and writer of crime fiction.

Thanks so much, Dorte, for hosting me on your blog. I’m excited and honored.

Dorte’s asked me to do a post on academic crime fiction murders. It’s an interesting topic, too. The traditional view of the college or university atmosphere is of a group of scholars, both students and their mentors, who seek out knowledge and share it. Students choose topics of interest, chart their course of study and, with guidance from their professors, earn their degrees. Faculty members conduct research, teach classes, serve on committees, and supervise student work. It all sounds very peaceful and for many people, it is. But the reality is, the academic atmosphere is often not the peaceful, serene gathering of scholars we’d like to imagine it is. I’ll be blogging next week about the campus setting on Mason Canyon’s terrific blog, Thoughts in Progress. For now, I’m going to focus on the politics of higher education. Academe is too often plagued with pettiness, politics and “turf wars,” not to mention personal and professional jealousy. So it’s no surprise that the academic atmosphere is the background for several crime fiction novels.

There’s a lot at stake among academics. One of the biggest things at stake is one’s rank. That’s what we see in Colin Dexter’s Death is Now My Neighbor. In that novel, Sir Clixby Bream, Master of Lonsdale College, Oxford, is preparing to retire. The two most likely candidates to replace him are Dr. Julian Storrs and Dr. Denis Cornford. Each of them would like to serve as the next Master of Lonsdale. Their wives are no less eager for their husbands to succeed to that position. Both candidates, and their wives, are hiding secrets in their pasts, though, and are not eager for anyone to find them out. Enter Geoffrey Owens, a journalist who has a habit of finding out people’s secrets and, more dangerously, has the habit of blackmail. Inspector Morse and Sergeant Lewis are already investigating the shooting death of Rachel James, who lives in Owens’ neighborhood, when they learn that Owens has been murdered, too. As they work to figure out who would want both James and Owens shot, Morse and Lewis find out what these academics were hiding. There are, of course, several other of Dexter’s Inspector Morse novels that deal with the politics of academia.

Besides rank, or maybe along with rank, tenure is another factor that can make the academic atmosphere so political and dangerous. Tenure is sought by just about every academic. It means an assured career, a higher rank, and several other benefits. Tenure isn’t easy to get, and the process can be fraught with politics. Most tenure recommendations are made by committees, so the candidate for tenure knows that she or he has to worry about not only the quality of work, but also about relationships. That’s the challenge that Connor Hadley faces in my own Publish or Perish. Hadley is up for tenure at Tilton University, but unfortunately, the Chair of the Promotion and Tenure Committee, Pete Nash, doesn’t like Hadley very much. Because of the resentment Nash bears him, Hadley is very much afraid he won’t get tenure, so he takes a desperate step. Shortly afterwards, his graduate student, Nick Merrill, dies suddenly one night from what looks like an accident, but is later proved to be murder. Former police officer-turned-professor Joel Williams gets involved in the case because Nick had been working with him on a project. He soon finds out that several people had a motive to kill Nick. One of them is Carrie Woods, a member of the department where Nick works. She also happens to be his lover. When she and Nick are found out, Carrie worries about what this could do to her career. It doesn’t help matters that she’s found out that Nick is also seeing someone else. Carrie cares for Nick, but she’s not ready to sacrifice her career for him. She’s among several people who could have been ruthless enough to kill Nick Merrill.

We see ruthlessness in other academic crime fiction as well. For instance, in Amanda Cross’ Death in a Tenured Position, Janet Mandelbaum goes up against some very ruthless people. She’s the first woman hired in Harvard’s English Department, and her male colleagues are, to say the least, not pleased about it. They have to accept her, though. A benefactor has left the school a million dollars to fund a chair for a woman, and the college is eager for the money. When Janet arrives at Harvard, she’s ostracized and made to feel unwelcome. Then, one day, she’s attending a tea when someone drugs her drink. She’s later found, drugged, on the floor of the men’s bathroom. At first, it seems that this is a campaign of protest against Janet Mandelbaum’s presence. Then, things turn lethal when Mandelbaum is poisoned. An acquaintance of Janet’s visits Columbia professor Kate Fansler, Cross’ sleuth, to ask her to get involved. Kate agrees to spend a term at Harvard, trying to find out who killed Janet Mandelbaum. It’s been argued that this book is dated, especially with regard to its portrayal of feminism. Still, it’s an interesting study of academic ruthlessness.

So is James Yaffe’s A Nice Murder for Mom. In that novel, English professor Stuart Bellamy is murdered by a blow to the head on the night of an important cocktail party being given by the Chair of the English Department at Mesa Grande College in Mesa Grande, Colorado. Mike Russo, another member of the department, seems to be the obvious suspect. He was passed up for tenure in favor of Bellamy, and Russo can’t account for his time during the period when the murder was committed. Russo claims that he’s innocent, though, and Ann Swenson, Mesa Grande’s Public Defender, decides to have the case investigated. For that, she chooses Dave, a former Bronx police officer who’s moved out to Mesa Grande to start over after the death of his wife, Shirley. Dave soon finds that Mike Russo wasn’t the only one with a grudge against Stuart Bellamy. Dave has to untangle the web of departmental politics, petty jealousy and resentment to find out who really killed Stuart Bellamy. Along the way, he gets help from his mother, who’s been visiting from New York, and whose common sense and intuition give him valuable clues to the case.

It’s not just faculty and staff members who get caught up in the politics and bad feeling that can sometimes be engendered by the university atmosphere. Competitiveness, bitterness, jealousy, and pettiness also happen among students at universities. For instance, in Yrsa Sigurdardóttir’s Last Rituals, attorney Thóra Gudmundsdóttir is offered a large sum of money to find out the truth behind the death of Harald Guntlieb, a German student living and studying in Iceland. Guntlieb was brutally murdered, and the police think they have the guilty party in custody – a fellow student and former friend of the dead man. But the Guntliebs don’t believe that this student is guilty, so they send their family’s representative, Matthew Reich, to Iceland to work with Thóra to uncover the truth about their son’s death. Along the way, Thóra and Matthew uncover some secrets that Harald’s friends have been keeping, and we get to see the pettiness and jealousy, as well as the interesting interactions among them.

In my own B-Very Flat, Serena Brinkman, a gifted violinist, dies suddenly on the night of an important music competition. Her partner, Patricia Stanley, is convinced that Serena didn’t die naturally, so she asks her advisor, Joel Williams, for help. Williams somewhat reluctantly agrees. He and the Tilton police begin to investigate the death, and in the process, get to meet several of Serena’s friends and fellow students, as well as her cousin. Practically all of them, as it turns out, had a motive to want Serena dead. For all of them, Serena stood between them and something they wanted or needed.

And of course, no discussion of crime in the academic atmosphere would be complete without a discussion of Dorothy Sayers’ Gaudy Night, the story of Harriet Vane’s visit to her alma mater. She’s invited to Shrewsbury College, Oxford, to participate in the Gaudy Night festivities. A few months later, the Warden of the college writes to Harriet, asking her to return and help find out who’s responsible for some unsettling events at the college. Harriet reluctantly agrees and uses the cover that she’s doing some research. The acts of vandalism, threatening letters and other occurrences get worse, and in fact, almost cost Harriet her life. Lord Peter Wimsey comes to the college to help find out who is behind these frightening acts. He and Harriet find that it all has to do with academic politics and a grudge that someone is holding.

Academia isn’t always the safe, serene atmosphere we might wish it were. But that makes it especially effective for crime fiction. It’s one reason that I’ve used that atmosphere in my own novels.

Thank you again, Dorte, for your hospitality!

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Remember to visit Margot´s fantastic blog Confessions of a Mystery Novelist if you are not already one of her faithful readers.

And do you like academic crime fiction? Then you MUST read Publish or Perish and B-Very Flat, Margot´s delightful novels about professor Joel Williams.

How Trustworthy Is Forensics Information From Fiction

Thank you very much to Brooklyn White for writing this fascinating guest post for my blog!

They hold us captive not just by the stories they tell or the crimes they portray, but also by the characters who solve these crimes and the way in which they go about it. Forensics is a field that’s gaining in popularity by the day thanks to television programs like CSI, Bones, Criminal Minds and others. People know much more about fingerprint analysis, DNA testing, blood spatters and other methods of criminal investigation that were relatively unknown because they were conducted behind closed doors and away from the public eye. But how accurate and trustworthy is the information shown on TV?

Well, if you were to go by reputable sources, not really all that accurate. For one, television shows and books gloss over the finer details; and with any amount of time being compressed into a few pages or a few minutes of screen time, it’s easy to assume that crime-solving is a piece of cake that can be achieved within a matter of an hour or so. But the truth is that the solving of a crime takes much longer than is shown on screen or portrayed in a book – so the first misconception about forensics from fiction is that it allows crimes to be solved very quickly.

Also, the lead characters in books, movies and television series are always able to establish without a doubt that a particular person is the criminal – the evidence points squarely to them and no one else. In real life however, it’s not always a cut and dry decision. So the second misconception about forensics from fiction is that it always allows the criminal to be identified without a doubt.

Real life trials are not as interesting or speedy as those shown on TV or described in books, but not many juries are aware of this nugget of information. So when they sit in on trials, they are not satisfied with the nature of the evidence presented because it is far less interesting, intriguing and concrete like that shown on forensic crime shows on television or described in books. This compromises their ability to deliver the right verdict. The third misconception about forensics from fiction is that the explanations are not always as simple as portrayed.

And finally, we come to the most important misconception of all – forensic science is not always accurate as portrayed by fiction. It may be hard to believe, but DNA can be fabricated, and if criminals are capable of this, they can always find ways to sabotage other evidence as well. So even though a forensic investigation may point to a certain person as the criminal, there is always an element of doubt.

By-line:
This guest post is contributed by Brooklyn White, who writes on the topic of Forensic Science Technician Schools . She can be reached at brookwhite26-AT-Gmail.com.

Hvor pålidelige er retsmedicinske oplysninger i fiktion?
De fængsler os, ikke bare gennem de historier, de fortæller, eller de forbrydelser, de fremstiller, men også gennem de personer som løser forbrydelserne, og måden de gør det på. Retsmedicin er et felt som vinder frem dag for dag, takket være tv-programmer som CSI (Crime Scene Investigation), Bones, Criminal Minds med mere. Seerne ved meget mere om fingeraftryk, DNA-prøver, blodstænk og andre testmetoder, som tidligere var relativt ukendte, fordi de blev udført bag lukkede døre. Men hvor præcis og pålidelig er den viden, vi får via TV?

Tjah, ifølge pålidelige kilder er de ikke særlig præcise. Dels skøjter tv-programmer og bøger let hen over de finere detaljer, dels bliver længere tidsforløb presset sammen på få sider eller nogle få minutters skærmtid, så det er let at antage at en forbrydelse kan opklares på en times tid. Men sandheden er, at opklaringen varer meget længere, end det fremgår på skærmen eller af bogen. Så første misforståelse er, at ved hjælp af retsmedicin kan forbrydelserne opklares meget hurtigt.

Hovedpersonerne i bogen, filmen eller TV-serien er også meget hurtige til at afgøre, at en bestemt person er forbryderen – bevismaterialet peger entydigt mod denne person og ingen anden. I virkeligheden er det imidlertid ikke altid en fiks og færdig beslutning. Så den anden misforståelse om retsmedicin er, at forbryderen altid kan identificeres uden skygge af tvivl.

Virkelige retssager er ikke så interessante eller så hurtigt afgjorte som dem vi ser på TV eller i bøger, men det aner mange jury-medlemmer ikke. Så når de sidder med i retssalen, er de ikke tilfredse med det bevismateriale, de bliver præsenteret for, fordi det ikke er nær så spændende, fascinerende eller konkret, som det de ser i udsendelser om retsmedicin. Det påvirker deres evne til at nå frem til den rette kendelse. Den tredje misforståelse om retsmedicin er, at forklaringerne ikke altid er så enkle eller klare, som de bliver fremstillet.

Og til slut kommer vi til den største misforståelse af dem alle – retsmedicin er ikke altid så præcis, som den bliver fremstillet i fiktion. Det er måske svært at tro på, men DNA kan forfalskes, og hvis de kriminelle er i stand til det, kan de altid finde måder at sabotere andet bevismateriale på. Så selv om den retsmedicinske undersøgelse peger på en bestemt person, er der altid en rest af tvivl.

Dette gæsteindlæg er skrevet af Brooklyn White, som skriver om emnet retsmedicin på siden Forensic Science Technician Schools. Mail: brookwhite26 (at) Gmail.com

H.C. Bailey, The Bishop´s Crime (1940)

In January Ron Smyth won a gift voucher on my blog. He has been kind enough to tell me how he spent his money, and he has sent me a review I think many of you will enjoy reading. Doesn´t this sound good?

Reggie Fortune is one of the classic Golden Age detectives, who first appeared in book form in "Call Mr Fortune", in 1919. This book, like most of the Fortune volumes, is a collection of short stories. However, Reggie also appeared in a number of novels, of which "The Bishop's Crime" (1940) is an excellent example. Reggie is a doctor who is often called in by the police for his medical expertise, and is of the same class as Lord Peter Wimsey, whom he resembles in speech and erudition, often quoting poetry and using literary references, in the manner of the early genius detective types, popular at that time. Reggie however is a much harsher sort of person than Lord Peter, and his cases are likely to involve corruption, child abuse or perversion.

Here, Reggie is called in when an unidentified body is discovered on the roadway. Deciding that the deceased was dead before being run over, Reggie traces him to a northern town by the dirt under his fingernails and his final meal and soon another body is found. The two are identified as criminals with a specific specialty which leads to the local Cathedral and legends of a lost treasure, from the time of Henry VIII and the closing of the monasteries. When the Dean is assaulted and a local grave broken into Reggie begins to see that a criminal mastermind is working behind the scenes. Working with the police, rather than in spite of them as is more common in detective novels of the day, Reggie begins to understand what happened to the treasure and uses this knowledge to trap the crooks into a wrong move. With utter ruthlessness he ensures that no villains escape unscathed, even if he has to arrange their punishment himself. Filled with poetry, history and erudition Reggie succeeds in once more solving both the recent crimes and the historical mysteries, restoring order out of chaos in the best Golden Age tradition.

Ron Smyth

Guest Blogging and Award Day

Today I am a guest blogger for the first time ever. Thank you to my countrywoman Louise of Lou´s Pages for asking me! (Louise wrote a post for me in November).

I hope you will all visit Louise to read my post on Christmas and Crime, and to discover her great English book blog.


And thank you to Elizabeth Spann Craig, Mystery Writing is Murder, for awarding me her own, special Blog Writer Award.

The rules (nicely liberal - I like that)

You can post this image to your blog…or not.
You may share this award with others…if you like.
You may adapt or alter this image in any way.



And thank you also to Lilly, Reading Extravaganza, for awarding me the Honest Scrap award.
I am not going to award anyone specifically this time, but I will follow the rule about listing ten honest things about myself.

1. I love reading, especially (English) crime fiction
2. I am a late riser – a very late riser
3. I love classical music, e.g. Bach.
4. I like teaching young people English and literature, but marking essays is NOT fun!
5. I love eating meat so I would never consider becoming a vegetarian.
6. My favourite holiday resorts are Scotland and Ireland (I am trying to talk my husband into going to the Shetland Island, and I don´t think it will be very difficult).
7. I don´t like exercising. If I have to, I always choose the bicycle, and I never ever run or jog.
8. I am not very good at cooking. Fortunately, my husband is – and he even likes it.
9. When I have to do something I don´t like, I squirm and fiddle and procrastinate until the very last second.
10. My greatest dream is to have my crime fiction published (oh – you knew that already?)

The Lord Meren Mysteries

Meet my guest blogger, Danish Louise from Lou´s Pages. Thank you so much, Louise, for combining two of your interests: crime and Egyptology!

Forfatteren og antropologen Lynda S. Robinson udgav mellem 1994 og 2001 en serie krimier, der alle foregår i det gamle Ægypten, nærmere bestemt i det 18. dynasti (1550-1292 fvt) under barnekongen Tutankhamon. 18. dynasti s sidste år var prægede af uro, og Tutankhamon besteg tronen i et land, mærket af det regime, der havde været under hans far, den kætterske Akhenaten. Akhenatens dronning var den navnkundinge Nefertiti.

Hovedpersonen er Lord Meren, der er faraos ”øjne og ører”, hvilket vel nærmest må siges at være en form for kriminalbetjent/detektiv. I Lynda S. Robinsons univers, var det oldægyptiske samfund fyldt med præster med skjulte dagsordener, skrivere, der befinder sig på det forkerte sted på det forkerte tidspunkt, gravrøvere, ludere, lommetyve og alskens andre lyssky typer.
Lord Meren og hans hjælper, adoptivsønnen Kysen, er naturligvis retskafne oldægyptiske borgere, der vil gøre alt for at opklare de forskellige forbrydelser. Farao ønsker at deltage i opklaringsarbejdet, men Lord Meren, der anser Tutankhamon som en slags søn, vil ikke tillade at farao kommer i fare. Under overfladen bobler også Lord Merens mørke fortid, der kaster lange skygger ind over hans nuværende liv. Vi aner, at der skete forfærdelige ting under Tutankhamons forgænger hans far Akhenaten. Og var der måske et eller andet mellem Lord Meren og Nefertiti?

Der er seks bøger i serien, men jeg har kun læst de første fire. De er letlæste og sådan set ganske velskrevne, men efter fire bøger orkede jeg ikke mere Lord Meren. Handlingen havde det med at skride en anelse for langsomt frem og efter et par bøger er det ikke så spændende at læse beskrivelserne af det gamle Ægypten. Holder man af krimier, der foregår i oldtiden er de fint underholdende.

Bøgerne skal læses som fiktion. Bortset fra beskrivelser af steder og enkelte personer, fx farao Tutankhamon, er der ikke noget belæg for at sige, at bøgerne bygger på virkeligheden eller virkelighedens personer. Lord Meren og de forbrydelser han opklarer, er fri fantasi.
Serien består som sagt af seks bøger. Ingen af dem er oversat til dansk.

Mange tak til Dorte for at lade mig skrive mit første gæsteblogger-indlæg på hendes blog.

The Lord Meren Mysteries
Writer and Anthropologist Lynda S. Robinson published six mysteries between 1994 and 2001, all taking place in Ancient Egypt, 18th Dynasty (1550-1292 BCE) during the reign of boyking Tutankhamun. The last years of the 18th Dyansty were tumultuous, and Tutankhamun took the throne in a country still marked by the regime his father and predecessor Akhenaten ruled Egypt under. Pharaoh Akhenaten, whose queen was the well known Nefertiti, was later named “The Heretic”

Protagonist is Lord Meren, Pharaoh’s ”Eyes and Ears”, which can best be described as a sort of detective or private eye. Ancient Egypt was, in Lynda S. Robinson’s books, a society brimming with priests with hidden agendas, scribes being in the wrong place at the wrong time, tomb robbers, whores, thieves and lots of other shady types.

Lord Meren and his helper, his adoptive son Kysen, are naturally fine and righteous men, doing everything they can to solve the mysteries and crimes. Young Pharaoh wants to join in on the work, but Lord Meren, who sees the boyking as some sort of a son, will not allow that Pharaoh gets into any sort of danger. Lord Merens dark past bubbles under the surface of it all, casting its shadows into his present life. Something terrible happened under the heretic Akhenaten. We also get the feeling that perhaps there was some unresolved business between Lord Meren and Nefertiti.

The series consists of six book, but I’ve only read the first four. They are easily read, and as such well written. But after four books I grew tired of Lord Meren. The stories tended to move a tad too slow, and after a couple of books, even the fine descriptions of Ancient Egypt became slightly boring. If you like mysteries taking place on an ancient scene, they are entertaining enough though.

The series must be read as fiction. Apart from the descriptions of places and a few persons, for instance Pharaoh Tutankhamun, the stories does not rely on anything which has happened for real. Lord Meren and the crimes he solves are products of the author’s imagination.

I want to thank Dorte for letting me post my very first guest-blogger post on her blog.

1. Murder at the Place of Anubis:

2. Murder at the God’s Gate:

3. Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing:

4. Eater of Souls:

5. Drinker of Blood:

6. Slayer of Gods:

Place and Crime Fiction

Welcome to today´s guest blogger, Rob Kitchin. Thank you very much Rob for obliging me.
See my review of Rob´s debut, and a blog post by Rob on "Landscape and Crime".
Remember to think about - and comment on - Rob´s question: I’d be interested to learn your thoughts about crime fiction and place.

When Dorte asked me to contribute a guest post I was very flattered, but unsure what to write about. After a bit of consideration, given that most of my time is spent working as an academic geographer, I offered to try and write a short piece on the role of place in crime fiction. It’s not my area of specialization, and I should have done some research, but not knowing what I’m talking about hasn’t stopped me before so I didn’t let it here either.

While the crime genre is clearly defined by its focus on criminal activity of various kinds, the milieu in which that activity occurs is, I would argue, a central component of any good mystery because it provides vital context. Crimes take place somewhere, shaped by the setting in which they occur and which, in turn, re-shape that place in their aftermath. Crime fiction is thus a genre that generally takes place seriously, often on multiple levels – as a descriptive backdrop, as context, as a clue, as a solution, as a puzzle, as ambience. Whilst a story could, in theory, be set anywhere, much crime fiction is interwoven with the geography of a specific location so that the setting and its landscape become a core element of the plot, in much the same way as the characters do. As an illustration, here’s a passage by Raymond Chandler, who always vividly described the rooms, streets and landscapes that his Private Investigator, Philip Marlowe, prowled.

I got down to Montemar Vista as the light began to fade, but there was still a fine sparkle on the water and the surf was breaking far out in long smooth curves. A group of pelicans were flying in bomber formation just under the creaming lip of the waves. A lonely yacht was taking in toward the yacht harbor at Bay City. Beyond it the huge emptiness of the Pacific was purple-gray.
Montemar Vista was a few dozen houses of various sizes and shapes hanging by their teeth and eyebrows to a spur of mountain and looking as if a good sneeze would drop them down among the box lunches on the beach.
Above the beach the highway ran under a wide concrete arch which was in fact a pedestrian bridge. From the inner end of this a flight of concrete steps with a thick galvanized handrail on one side ran straight as a ruler up the side of the mountain. Beyond the arch the sidewalk café my client had spoken of, was bright and cheerful inside, but the iron-legged, tile-topped tables outside under the striped awning were empty save for a single dark woman in slacks who smoked and stared moodily out to sea, with a bottle of beer in front of her. A fox terrier was using one of the iron chairs for a lamppost. She chided the dog absently as I drove past and gave the sidewalk café my business to the extent of using its parking space.
I walked back through the arch and started up the steps. It was a nice walk if you liked grunting. There were two hundred and eighty steps up to Cabrillo Street. They were drifted over with windblown sand and the handrail was as cold and wet as a toad’s belly.
Raymond Chandler, Farewell, My Lovely (1940)

For me, a crime novel that manages to create an entire lifeworld - which captures the sights, smells, tastes, sounds and textures of a location, as well as the essence of its people, its architecture, its social relations and culture, its political and legal system, and its economic life - enhances the reading experience because it fosters in the reader an acute sense of place. Through such writing one intuitively comes to know a place, and over several books in a series, as more and more details and layers of information and insights are revealed, one doesn’t just inhabit the psychological lives of the main characters but their geography too. As such, the books become travelogues that reveal much more about a place and the lives of people living there than any Lonely Planet guide. For example, in Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series one comes to know the landscapes and communities of Trenton, New Jersey. On the first page of the first book Evanovich conjures up in a few short words ‘the burg’. From then on I have that place in my mind’s eye, providing a snapshot to which I gradually colour in detail.

Morelli and I were both born and raised in a blue-collar chunk of Trenton called the burg. Houses were attached and narrow. Yards were small. Cars were American. The people were mostly of Italian descent, with enough Hungarians and Germans thrown in to offset inbreeding. It was a good place to buy calzone or play the numbers. And, if you had to live in Trenton anyway, it was an okay place to raise a family.
Janet Evanovich, One For the Money (1994)


As Evanovich demonstrates, creating a sense of place does not need to rely on heavy and laboured description of each locale. It can be fostered quite lightly. It can also be created suggestively through what people do in each locale (in the same way as we can come to know a character through what they say and do, rather than a description of what they look like or their thoughts). The kinds of books I tend to enjoy tend to be driven by dialogue and action, with relatively light description of characters and place, and little reflection and introspection. I’m thinking here of authors such as Joe Lansdale, James Ellroy, Michael Connelly, Janet Evanovich, Philip Kerr, Katy Munger, Peter Temple, Laurence Shames, and Ian Rankin. Despite having relatively thin descriptions of places, they nonetheless manage to convey a lasting sense of East Texas, Los Angeles, Trenton (New Jersey), Berlin, Raleigh (North Carolina), Melbourne, the Florida Keys, and Edinburgh. That they do this is because, regardless of writing style, these authors understand that place is critical to the crime stories they tell. For example, I don’t know about you, but after reading this passage from Peter Temple, I was in this bar and I knew the old fellas.

I parked a block away, two wheels on the kerb in a one way street, and made the run for the Prince. I could have found it by smell: a hundred-odd years of spilt beer. My grandfather used to drink there. So did my father. His dark, intense face is in the faded photographs of Fitzroy Football Club series of the late 1940s on the wall near the door marked GENTS.
There are only a few dozen Fitzroy supporters left who remember my father; to them I represent a genetic meltdown. Three of these veterans were sitting at the bar nursing glasses of beer and old grievances. As I stood brushing rain off my sleeves, they looked at me as if I were personally responsible for Fitzroy’s 36-point loss to despised Carlton on Saturday.
‘Three in a row, Jack,’ said Eric Tanner, the one nearest the door. ‘Played like girls. Where the hell were you?’
‘Sorry men,’ I said. ‘Business.’
‘Three sets of eyes with the combined age of 220 examined me. They all held the same look. It was the one the boy in the gang gets when he is the first to put talking to a girl ahead of kicking a football in the street.
‘I had to go to Sydney,’ I said. ‘Work.’ I might as well have said I had to go to Perigord for truffles for all the exculpatory power this statement carried.
‘Should’ve taken the team with you,’ said Wilbur Ong.
‘What kind of work does a man in Sydney on a Satdee arvo?’ said Norman O’Neill in a tone of amazement. These men would no more consider being away from Melbourne on a Saturday in the football season than they would consider enrolling in personal development courses.
Peter Temple, Bad Debts (1996)

In my own modest efforts to create some sense of place for Dublin I try to combine physical description with some basic history and facts about the location, along with some sense of what is happening there. In The Rule Book all of the places detailed in and around Dublin are real locales. When I was writing the book I visited each place, spent some time there and took photos I could consult later. Given that the geometry of the city is an integral part of the story I also took GPS coordinates. I wanted locals to be able to feel that they recognized parts of the city and for others to get a sense that they could visualize and inhabit the landscape. The extent to which I’ve managed to achieve that you can judge for yourself from the following passage set in O’Connell Street, a key location in the book. It ends with the vista reproduced on the front cover.

McEvoy stood at the three metre wide base of the steel spire and looked up towards where it tapered to a thin point one hundred and twenty metres above. It had been erected in 2003 to replace Nelson’s Pillar blown up in 1966 by the IRA. At the time McEvoy had thought it a tremendous waste of money – it cost a fortune, you couldn’t go up it, and it was boring; just a bloody big spike rising into the sky. His opinion hadn’t changed with time. He lowered his face and looked around at the street-lamp lit scene, dragging the smoke from his cigarette deep into his lungs.
The spire was positioned in the middle of a crossroads, standing on a strip of pavement that separated the double lanes of O’Connell Street, one of the widest thoroughfares in Europe, fifty metres in width. Off to one side was Earl Street, a short pedestrian area leading onto Talbot Street that led down past the bargain basement shops to Connolly Station. Opposite was Henry Street full of high street, brand name shops. On the corner of Henry Street was the GPO – the general post office – a long, squat, stern looking building with a grand central portico of six, wide classical Ionic columns, still pockmarked with bullet holes from the 1916 rising. On top of the portico, looking down onto the street, were the three statues of Mercury, Hibernia and Fidelity.
McEvoy set off on a circuit, walking to the north corner of Henry Street, then alongside the drab, four storey shop fronts, the dark brown portico of the National Irish Bank, up as far as McDonalds, still doing a brisk trade to gangs of teenagers and bewildered looking tourists, then across to the central reservation again. Standing next to a giant statue of a running hare set on a wide plinth, part of a temporary exhibition of Barry Flanagan’s sculptures running the length of O’Connell Street, he looked back toward the spire through some thin trees just gaining their new leaves.
The area was still relatively busy. Buses and taxis trundling their way up both sides of the reservation, office workers heading home after a few Friday night drinks, early revellers disgorging from buses and traversing between bars, tourists fresh in on weekend city breaks wandering aimlessly seeking the sights and the craic, and a handful of plain clothes guards trying to get a sense of the space.
He weaved his way through the traffic to O’Brien’s sandwich shop and headed back towards Earl Street, pausing to look down its length, past the entrances to Boyers’ and Cleary’s department stores to the smaller shops beyond, and then right at the spire blocking the route to Henry Street, people waiting at the traffic lights to cross, a timer counting down the seconds until the lights would change. It reached zero and the pedestrians surged forward, across onto the central reservation, streaming either side of the spire, heading for the far side.
He continued down O’Connell Street, past Abrakebabra, the smell of cooking meat and fries wafting out onto the pavement reminding him that he’d once again barely eaten all day, the saucy underwear in Ann Summers’ window display, to the imposing frontage of Cleary’s, mimicking the GPO opposite with twelve flat columns along its length, a large black and gold clock hanging above the entrance. Restrained neoclassical style buildings, their fronts a mix of limestone, granite, red brick and Portland stone, their roofs capped with copper, stretched down the rest of the street to the Liffey. He crossed the road back to the central reservation at the statue of radical labour leader, Jim Larkin, his hands held aloft, behind him the spire rising up through them. He drew to a stop and looked at the way he had come and then across to the GPO.

Usually I’m much more economical in the description of a place but, given the importance of this location, in this instance I wanted to provide a more detailed picture. Indeed, The Rule Book mainly consists of a series of short scenes of dialogue and I suspect that that is the longest passage between conversations in the entire book! Hopefully it gives some sense of O’Connell Street at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

In conclusion, my argument is basically that crime fiction is not simply a genre defined by crime, but one also highly sensitive to place (and, of course, time). Place provides vital context and structure, not simply a backdrop. I don’t know the extent to which others agree with that sentiment – one of the problems of being a geographer is the tendency to slip into spatial fetishism; that is we think that space and place is critical to everything! I’d be interested to learn your thoughts about crime fiction and place.

Ann Cleeves on "Crime for All"

(This week´s guest blogger is the well-known British crime fiction author Ann Cleeves . I have reviewed two of her Vera Stanhope novels recently, The Crow Trap and Telling Tales.)

Dorte’s invitation to contribute to her blog arrived while I was in France, at the Neuilly Plaisance book festival. This was quite different from the literature festivals I’ve attended in the US and the UK, more like a fair or a market. Each of us had a table displaying our books, and attempted to engage in conversation with the people walking past. The ultimate objective, of course, was to achieve a sale. From the first half hour it became clear that women should be my target audience. Only two men bought books over the weekend and both those asked for them to be signed for women. The French jackets are quite distinctive, with muted colours, rather beautiful. I asked my publicist if she thought the covers were putting off male buyers. She shrugged: ‘Perhaps, but most book buyers are women anyway.’ It would be interesting to know what Dorte’s readers in mainland Europe make of that view! Is it a generally accepted truth?

The famous Golden Age authors were women writing male heroes. Of course there are lots of exceptions, but Christie’s Poirot and Sayer’s Lord Peter Wimsey were the big names. I could never understand the idea of Poirot; Jane Marple was a sympathetic character, but Poirot held no attraction for me. I wonder if men enjoyed these plot-driven books, the element of the puzzle, more than I did. Peter Wimsey was a different matter entirely. I have yet to meet a man who doesn’t despise GAUDY NIGHT for its sentimentality and lack of structure while I always find myself a little bit in love with the central character by the end of the book.

I grew up reading Sayers and Allingham, so it’s not surprising that I began by writing a male central character and a male central character who was, if not aristocratic, sufficiently wealthy to solve crimes in his spare time. Vera Stanhope grew out of my dismay that heroines, even heroines written by feminists, tended to be young, reasonably good looking and physically fit. It didn’t occur to me that she might pull in a readership that was predominantly female. I don’t believe writers think in that way; most of us write the books we would enjoy reading.

So, why have a male hero for the Shetland books? Again this wasn’t the result of a reasoned plan. I was looking for a Shetlander born and bred, who was also something of an outsider. Perez’s exotic name and Mediterranean appearance – the fiction is that his ancestors were washed ashore from a wrecked Armada ship – work for this theme, but so too does the fact that’s he’s something of a wimp, what his first wife describes as ‘emotionally incontinent.’ Fishing and crofting is demanding physical work. The stereotypical Shetlander is a hard-drinking, hard-working Viking. Perez is sympathetic, rather gentle and doesn’t fit the image. In this too, he’s an outsider.

Looking back at emails from readers over recent months, I’ve received approximately an equal number from men and women. Perhaps that’s because place is so important in the books and landscape doesn’t have a gender bias. It would be interesting to hear what the readers of Dorte’s blog make of that idea too.
Thank you so much Ann Cleeves for taking the time to write this interesting contribution to my April theme. And to my readers: remember to comment on Ann´s questions.


Krimi for Alle
(skrevet af den kendte britiske krimiforfatter Ann Cleeves, som er på vej ud på det danske krimimarked. Hun har foreløbig fået udgivet Sort som Ravnen på forlaget Cicero, og er på vej med Hvide Nætter. Jeg har anmeldt to af hendes tidligere krimier for nylig, The Crow Trap og Telling Tales)

Dortes invitation til at skrive et indlæg til hendes blog kom mens jeg var i Frankrig, som deltager af Neuilly Plaisance bogfestivalen. Det var en meget anderledes oplevelse end de litteratur-festivals jeg har deltaget i i Storbritannien og USA, mere i retning af et marked. Hver af os havde en bod, hvor vi udstillede vore bøger, og forsøgte at komme i snak med folk som gik forbi. Hovedformålet var naturligvis at sælge bøger. Allerede efter den første halve time stod det klart, at kvinder måtte blive min målgruppe. Kun to mænd købte bøger i løbet af weekenden, og de bad begge om at få dem signeret til en kvinde. De franske bogomslag er meget karakteristiske, ganske smukke i dæmpede farver. Jeg spurgte min agent, om hun troede, omslagene skræmte mandlige kunder væk. Hun trak på skulderen: ”Måske, men flertallet af bogkunder er under alle omstændigheder kvinder.” Det ville være interessant at vide, hvad Dortes læsere på det europæiske fastland siger til det synspunkt. Er det en generelt vedtaget sandhed?

De berømte guldalder-forfattere var kvinder, som skrev om mandlige helte. Selvfølgelig er der masser af undtagelser, men Agatha Christies Poirot og Dorothy L. Sayers Lord Peter Wimsey var de store navne. Jeg forstod aldrig ideen med Poirot; Jane Marple var en sympatisk person, men Poirot tiltalte mig ikke. Jeg spekulerer på, om mænd nød disse bøger, hvor plottet og puslespillet var drivkraften, mere end jeg gjorde. Peter Wimsey var en helt anden sag. Jeg har endnu til gode at møde en mand, som ikke foragter ´Peter Wimsey i Oxford´ for dens sentimentalitet og mangel på struktur, mens jeg altid opdager, at jeg er en lille smule forelsket i hovedpersonen ved slutningen af bogen.

Jeg voksede op med Sayers og Margery Allingham, så det er ikke så overraskende, at jeg begyndte at skrive om en mandlig hovedperson, og tilmed en mand som selv om han ikke var adelsmand, var tilstrækkeligt velhavende til at løse kriminalgåder i sin fritid. Vera Stanhope voksede ud af min utilfredshed med at heltinder, selv heltinder skabt af feminister, havde en tendens til at være unge, forholdsvis flotte og i fysisk god form. Det var ikke faldet mig ind, at hun måske ville tiltrække en læserskare, som fortrinsvis var kvinder. Jeg tror ikke forfattere tænker i de baner; de fleste af os skriver de bøger, vi selv ville nyde at læse.

Så hvorfor have en mandlig helt i Shetland-serien? Endnu en gang var det ikke ud fra en velovervejet plan. Jeg var på udkig efter en vaskeægte shetlænder, som samtidig var lidt af en outsider. Perez´ eksotiske navn og sydlandsk udseende – sagnet går at hans forfædre blev skyllet i land efter et skibbrud fra den Spanske Armada - fungerer i forbindelse med dette tema, og det samme gør den kendsgerning, at han er lidt af et skvat, eller som hans kone udtrykker det, ´følelsesmæssigt utæt´. Fiskeri og husmandsbrug er krævende, fysisk arbejde. Den stereotype shetlænder er en viking som arbejder hårdt og drikker tæt. Perez er forstående, temmelig mild, og passer ikke ind i billedet. Så også på det område skiller han sig ud.

Når jeg ser tilbage på de e-mails, jeg har modtaget fra mine læsere de seneste måneder, har jeg modtaget nogenlunde lige mange fra mænd og kvinder. Måske skyldes det, at miljøet er så vigtigt i serien, og landskaber taler ikke til noget bestemt køn. Det ville også være interessant at høre, hvad læserne af Dortes blog mener om den idé.

Tusind tak til Ann Cleeves for dette eftertænksomme bidrag til mit april-tema. Til læserne: husk at tænke over hendes spørgsmål, og skriv en lille kommentar.

Guest Blogger on Blog Improvement

I have kept an eye on Peter Rozovsky´s blog, Detectives Beyond Borders, for some time, and one of the things that singles it out in my eyes is his interaction with his readers, both in his blog posts and in his comments. I asked Peter to write a post for me on how to enhance the number of comments (see my own post on the subject here).

These tactics seem to have worked for me:

1) Be interesting. Have something to say, and say it well.
2) Pick your subject and focus on it. That will attract readers interested in that subject. It will also make the occasional off-topic post all the more fun because it will be unexpected.
3) End posts with questions that invite reader participation. If I've written about a particular novel's use of music, for example, I may end the post by asking readers what other books have used music in a similar way. This is especially useful for a blog about books, as it brings blog readers who have not read the book into the discussion.
4) Post comments on other blogs that discuss similar topics. Don't make these mere advertisements for your blog, throw yourself into the discussion . Suggest that readers might also enjoy related discussions on your blog. Include a link to those discussions in your comment.
5) Respond to your readers' comments. Make your blog into a forum for discussion.

Peter Rozovsky, Detectives Beyond Borders “Because Murder Is More Fun Away From Home”

Gæsteblogger om kommentarer.
Skrevet af Peter Rozovsky, Detectives Beyond Borders. Noget af det der i mine øjne gør Peters egen blog til noget særligt, er den måde han kommer i kontakt med sine læsere, både via selve blog-indlæggene, og via kommentarerne. Jeg bad derfor Peter om at skrive et indlæg for mig om hvordan man øger antallet af kommentarer på sin blog. Se mit eget indlæg om emnet her.

Disse taktikker ser ud til at have virket for mig:

1) vær interessant. Hav noget på hjerte, og skriv det godt.
2) vælg dit emne, og fokusér på det. Det vil trække læsere til, som er interesserede i emnet. Det vil også gøre lejlighedsvise indlæg, som er udenfor emne, så meget sjovere, fordi de kommer uventede.
3) afrund indlæg med spørgsmål, som indbyder læserne til at deltage. Hvis jeg for eksempel har skrevet om den måde, musik bruges på i en roman, kan jeg finde på at afslutte indlægget med at spørge læserne, hvilke bøger de kender som anvender musik på en lignende måde. Det er særlig nyttigt for en bogblog, da det inddrager læsere, som ikke har læst netop denne bog i diskussionen.
4) skriv kommentarer på andre blogs, som diskuterer lignende emner. Gør ikke kommentarerne til reklamer for din blog, men engager dig i diskussionen. Foreslå at læsere måske også ville synes om en lignende diskussion på din blog. Læg et link til disse diskussioner i din kommentar.
5) Svar på læsernes kommentarer. Gør din blog til et diskussionsforum.

Peter Rozovsky, Detectives Beyond Borders “Because Murder Is More Fun Away From Home”

April - Krimi for Alle

Skrevet af forfatteren Martin Edwards, Cheshire, England, som blandt andet har fået udgivet 13 kriminalromaner. Hans bøger udkommer på engelsk, tysk og italiensk, men desværre ikke på dansk.

Forskellen på mænds og kvinders psykologi er et fascinerende emne. Særlig interessant, i mine øjne, er forskellen på mænds og kvinders tilgang til fiktion – både som læsere og som forfattere. Nogle bøger appellerer selvfølgelig næsten udelukkende til det ene køn. Så vidt jeg ved, er de fleste af Tom Clancys læsere mænd, og de fleste af Anita Brookners er kvinder. Men det betyder meget for mig at mine bøger bliver læst af både mænd og kvinder (helst af så mange medlemmer af begge køn som muligt!) og det er mit klare indtryk, at et stadigt stigende flertal af mine læsere er kvinder.

Mange af mine yndlingsforfattere er kvinder, og jeg har formodentlig flere kvindelige end mandlige venner (det er måske en reaktion på at jeg har gået på drengeskole og et kollegium for mænd i min universitetstid!) I mine tidlige forfatterår tænkte jeg ikke så meget på kønsspørgsmål som jeg gør i dag. Jeg skrev de første romaner, som foregik i Liverpool, med en mandlig tredje-persons fortæller, og kun én synsvinkel. Men efterhånden som jeg fik selvtillid som forfatter, gav jeg mig i kast med at variere min stil. Jeg begyndte med at indføre flere forskellige synsvinkler. Min første hovedperson, Harry Devlin, var advokat i Liverpool, præcis ligesom mig. Harry er ikke mig, men selvfølgelig har vi en del til fælles. Med tiden fik jeg lyst til at forsøge mig med noget nyt og udforske personer, som var meget forskellige fra mig. Min nyeste roman, Dancing for the Hangman, er skrevet fra Doktor Crippens synsvinkel, lægen som blev hængt i 1910 for at myrde sin kone.

At skrive noveller og eksperimentere med dem, hjalp mig med at udvikle mit skrivetalent. I min ottende roman, som ikke er en del af en serie, men en psykologisk thriller med titlen Take My Breath Away, skiftede fortællersynsvinklen mellem den mandlige og den kvindelige hovedperson. Og da jeg begyndte at skrive min Lake District-serie, hvor jeg egentlig havde planlagt at lade den mandlige hovedperson, Daniel Kind, spille hovedrollen, viste det sig snart at han kom til at spille anden violin i forhold til kriminalinspektør Hannah Scarlett.

At jeg nu oftere skriver ud fra en kvindelig synsvinkel er måske én af grundene til at de fleste af de læsere, som besøger mine forfatter-arrangementer, diskuterer mit forfatterskab med mig eller anmelder mine bøger, er kvinder. En anden forklaring kunne være, at der er flere kvinder end mænd, som læser krimier. Forlagsbranchen består i hvert fald fortrinsvis af kvinder – min agent, og de fleste af de redaktører, jeg nogensinde har haft, er kvinder.

En anden idé slår mig. Et centralt emne i Lake District-serien er det forhold, der er ved at udvikle sig mellem Hannah og Daniel. Måske er kvindelige læsere generelt mere optaget af forholdet mellem kønnene end mænd. Det kunne være forklaringen på, at Lake District-bøgerne lader til at appellere mere til kvindelige læsere end de tidlige Liverpool-bøger (selv om kvindelige læsere ofte giver udtryk for, at de synes om personen Harry Devlin).

Uanset hvor sandheden ligger, nyder jeg at forsøge at trænge ind i hovedet på en person som Hannah, hvis liv slet ikke er som mit, men som alligevel appellerer til mig. Jeg er helt afgjort ikke dum nok til at påstå, at jeg virkelig forstår, hvordan kvinder tænker (langt fra!), men at skrive fra en kvindes perspektiv er en rigtig god måde at forsøge at tackle sin usikkerhed.

Crime for All
By crime fiction writer Martin Edwards, Cheshire, UK, author of the Harry Devlin series and the Lake District mysteries.

The difference between the psychological make-up of men and women is a fascinating subject. Especially intriguing, to me, is the difference in the way men and women approach fiction – both as readers, and as writers. Of course, some books appeal almost exclusively to one sex rather than the other. As far as I know, for instance, most of Tom Clancy’s readers are men, and most of Anita Brookner’s are women. But I’m very keen for my own books to be read by both men and women (preferably by as many members as possible of both sexes!) and my strong impression is that an increasingly large majority of my readers are female.

Many of my favourite writers are women, and it’s probably true that I have more female than male friends (perhaps this is a reaction to going to a single-sex school and single-sex college at university!) In my early days as a writer, I didn’t think about gender issues as much as I tend to do nowadays. I wrote my early novels, set in Liverpool, from a male, third person, single viewpoint, perspective. But as I gained in confidence as a writer, I began to ring the changes. I started to introduce additional viewpoints. My first viewpoint character, Harry Devlin, was a Liverpool lawyer, just as I am. Harry is not me, but of course we have some things in common. As time passed, I wanted to spread my wings, and explore characters very different from me. My most recent published novel, Dancing for the Hangman, is written from the point of view of Doctor Crippen, hanged in 1910 for murdering his wife.

Writing, and experimenting with, short stories, helped to develop my skills. With my eighth book, a stand-alone novel of psychological suspense called Take My Breath Away, the viewpoint kept switching between the male protagonist and the female protagonist. And when I began my Lake District Mysteries, although I intended the male character, Daniel Kind, to take the lead, before long he was playing second fiddle to Detective Chief Inspector Hannah Scarlett.

The fact that I am now writing more often from a female viewpoint may be one of the reasons that most of the readers who visit my events, or talk to me about my work, or review my books, are women. Another explanation might simply be that there are more female readers of crime novels than male. Certainly, the publishing business seems predominantly female – my agent, and almost all the editors I’ve ever had, are women.

One other thought occurs to me. The central concept of the Lake District books is the slowly developing relationship between Hannah and Daniel. Maybe female readers, in general, are more intrigued by relationship issues than men. This might just help to explain why the Lake District books seem to appeal more to female readers than the early Liverpool books (although women readers often seem to like Harry Devlin as a character.)

Whatever the truth of it, I enjoy trying to get into the head of a woman like Hannah, someone whose life is nothing like mine, yet someone I find very appealing. I am definitely not foolish enough to claim that I really understand how women think (far from it!) but writing from a female perspective is quite a good way to try to reduce one’s bafflement….

Thank you so much for giving us this opportunity to get into the head of a crime fiction writer, Martin – and remember, we are all waiting for the fourth Lake District novel!