Those of Us With Ravaged Faces, Lacking in the Social Graces*

Crime fiction confronts us with our own prejudices. And one of those prejudices has to do with what we consider attractive. Of course people’s definitions of what’s attractive vary, and each culture has its own view of what ‘counts’ as ‘beautiful.’ But just about everyone is drawn to the physically appealing rather than to people who are considered unattractive. That’s why it can be very refreshing when a major character (in crime fiction, that’s usually the sleuth) is not what people think of as physically attractive. That takes writing skill.

Gladys Mitchell’s Mrs. Bradley, for instance, is hardly what one would call beautiful. In The Mystery of Butcher’s Shop, she is described as

 

‘A small, shriveled, bird-like woman who might have been thirty-five and who might have been ninety, clad in a blue and sulphur jumper like the plumage of a macaw…’

 

Her clothes are notoriously unattractive and she’s sometimes described as having saurian features or a reptilian smile. She is not what most people would find physically appealing, but she is a brilliant detective. She’s a psychoanalyst who has a thorough understanding of motivation and personality. And in this novel, that helps her to find out who murdered local squire Rupert Sedleigh and how his body ended up in a local butcher shop. Interestingly enough, Mrs. Bradley was portrayed by the emphatically not saurian Diana Rigg in a television series and it’s very interesting to see that Mrs. Bradley’s (lack of) taste in clothes and her unattractive appearance were given an overhaul for that series.

Rex Stout’s Archie Goodwin doesn’t fare too badly as far as appearance goes but his boss Nero Wolfe could hardly trade on his looks. Wolfe fans will know that he weighs a seventh of a ton. That’s heavy by just about anyone’s standards. Archie later says that Wolfe weighs

 

‘…between 310 and 390…’   

 

And although Wolfe isn’t depicted as hideous-looking, he doesn’t win clients over with his handsomeness. Still, when Wolfe is on the case, it’s easy to forget (even when Goodwin mentions it) that he’s much heavier than most people consider attractive. In Fer de Lance, for instance, he and Goodwin solve the unusual murder of Peter Barstow, president of Holland University. They first learn of this case when Maria Maffei visits Wolfe and asks for him to help find her brother Carlo, who has disappeared. When Carlo Maffei is found dead, it comes out that he had designed the special golf club that was used to kill Barstow. So now Goodwin and Wolfe have to find out who paid Maffei to create this design and killed him before he could reveal what he knew.  In this novel and in other novels in this series, clients don’t come to Wolfe because of his appearance; they come to him because he’s very good it what he does. Wolfe may not be physically attractive but we really do forget that when he’s on the case.

Most people probably wouldn’t call Ann Cleeves’ Vera Stanhope ‘a looker.’ She’s somewhat overweight, has eczema, and although she keeps clean, she doesn’t exactly take a lot of pains with her appearance. Stanhope is aware of the fact that she’s not conventionally beautiful, and sometimes that makes her self-conscious, as in Silent Voices. That novel begins with Stanhope going for a swim at the local gym/spa. She specifically chooses early morning for her doctor-prescribed workout because she’d rather not be there at the same time as the club’s usual habitués, young women who are tanned, thin and have beautiful faces. During this trip Stanhope makes a horrifying discovery. When she goes to the steam room after her swim, she finds the body of social worker Jenny Lister. Once she’s on this case, it’s easy to forget that Stanhope is not what you’d think of as ‘pretty’ at all. Instead, she’s intuitive, thoughtful, determined and a very good detective.

Reginald Hill’s Superintendent Andy Dalziel isn’t exactly magazine-cover material either, physically speaking. In A Pinch of Snuff, for instance, Hill says that Dalziel’s face is

 

‘…as heavy and ugly as a slag heap.’

 

What’s more, Dalziel’s overweight and makes no effort to behave in what most people would call a socially acceptable way. But he is a sound human being with real intuition. What’s more, he’s loyal, ethical and a very good detective. Although he’s often called, ‘the Fat Man,’ his appearance really doesn’t matter in terms of his ability to solve cases. In this novel for instance, he and Inspector Pascoe investigate the Calliope Kinema Club, which has a reputation for showing extreme and sometime violent pornography. It’s all legal though, or it least it seems so until Pascoe’s dentist suspects that one of the actresses has been actually hurt or worse. When Pascoe looks into it though, the actress seems to be fine. Still, Pascoe isn’t quite satisfied. Then the club’s owner Gilbert Haggard is murdered, and the club is wrecked. Now Dalziel and Pascoe have to find out what was really going on there that would lead to murder.

And then there’s Alan Orloff’s Channing Hayes. He’s a standup comic who survived a terrible car accident that claimed the life of his fiancée Lauren Dempsey. In Killer Routine, he’s just getting back into the ‘standup life’ as co-owner of The Last Laff, a Northern Virginia comedy club. Then, Lauren’s sister Heather disappears one night just before she’s supposed to go onstage at the club. Hayes is worried about Heather so he starts asking questions and before he knows it, he’s up against Heather’s difficult parents, dangerous ex-boyfriend and several other people in her life who don’t seem to want her to be found. Hayes has a scarred face and a withered left hand because of the accident, so most people who meet him wouldn’t exactly call him gorgeous. Hayes knows this and it sometimes makes him self-conscious. But it doesn’t take away from his ability to find out what happened to Heather Dempsey. And as the story goes on, it’s easy to forget that Hayes isn’t conventionally good-looking.

All too often, media images tell us what we’re supposed to find attractive and what physical qualities we’re supposed to admire. And all too often, that means the marginalisation of those who don’t fit those images. I’m glad that crime fiction doesn’t fall into that trap and I respect authors who have the skill to create strong and sympathetic characters who aren’t conventionally attractive.

 

 

 

*NOTE:  The title of this post is a line from Janis Ian’s At Seventeen.

How Do You Measure, Measure a Year?*

It’s interesting how the end of the year often gets us into a reflective mood, whether or not we make and keep New Year’s resolutions. It’s often a time for taking stock of oneself – well, it is for me anyway. And no, I promise this isn’t going to be one of those ‘Best of 2012’s Reading’ posts. You’ll be reading enough of those as the next weeks go by. Besides, I don’t like to ‘stay within the lines’ like that. But here are a few things I’ve noticed about my crime fiction reading this year. If they help you make some reading choices, then I’m glad to have been of service.

 

 

Book That Has Caused Me to Re-Think My Assumptions

 

Angela Savage – Behind the Night Bazaar

Y.A. Erskine – The Brotherhood

Roger Smith – Dust Devils

Martin Edwards – All the Lonely People

 

Most of us, myself included, have a set of assumptions about, well, everything. About people from other groups, about how to make the world better, about how to solve the world’s problems. But those assumptions can blind us to the fact that very few of life’s problems and inequities have an easy solution. All of these books present difficult issues (e.g. poverty, human trafficking, questions of racial equity) that do not have an easy solution. And these authors are all to be commended for not offering pat solutions. All of these novels have caused me to question what I always believed, and that’s a good thing. The book that has most caused me to really question myself though is Angela Savage’s Behind the Night Bazaar. In that novel, PI Jayne Keeney investigates the murders of her friend Didier ‘Didi’ de Montpasse and his partner Nou. The trail leads Keeney to some ugly truths about child trafficking and the sex trade. I think we’d all agree that something has to be done to keep children safe and to stop human trafficking. But Savage shows us, without preaching, that there isn’t a simple solution. Not until we question what we assume to be true can we look at the source of these problems and try to solve them. This isn’t an easy, light book, but it stays with me in part because it has invited me to stop and re-think everything I always ‘knew’ about human trafficking.

 

 

Book I Am Very Annoyed at Myself For Not Reading Yet

 

Michael Connelly – The Black Box

Ben Winters – The Last Policeman

Deon Meyer – Seven Days

Vanda Symon – The Faceless 

 

Here’s the thing. There are only twenty-four hours in a day, and seven days in a week. And one has to eat and sleep and pay bills, etc…   So there simply isn’t enough time to read it all. I am a fan of all four of these highly talented authors, so it has nothing to do with my interest in their books. It really doesn’t.  I will read all of these books. However, I am most angry with myself for not yet reading Vanda Symon’s The Faceless. Symon is the highly talented author of the Sam Shephard series, and I was very much looking forward to this standalone release. I still am. I promise, Vanda, I will read it. Very soon. Folks, if you haven’t yet read it, give it a try. Symon will not disappoint you.

 

 

Pattern in My Reading That I Didn’t Even Notice

 

I Have Read More Canadian Crime Fiction This Year.

I Have Read More French Crime Fiction This Year.

I Have Read More Australian Crime Fiction This Year, Mostly Written by Women.

I Have Read More Thrillers This Year.

 

Did you ever catch yourself in a new pattern that you weren’t even aware of? Well, this year I found myself, and I promise it was unplanned, branching out in all sorts of different reading directions. I’m glad for that, as I am a better informed crime fiction fan for it. I’m all for ‘stretching oneself’ as a reader. And I am truly grateful for those who’ve helped me do that this year. The pattern that I’ve most noticed – that seems the strongest – without me even being aware of it is that I’ve read a whole lot more crime fiction by Australian women writers than I had before. This year I’ve read some terrific work by Sandy Curtis, Virginia Duigan, Y.A. Erskine,  Kerry Greenwood, Wendy James and Angela Savage, among others. I’m so glad I ‘met’ these wonderful ladies from down under. To all of you, thanks for sharing your work with us, and it is my great pleasure to mention it on my blog. Want to read some terrific crime fiction by Aussie women writers? Sure ya do! Check out Fair Dinkum Crime, which is the source for all Australian crime fiction. And check out the Australian Women Writers challenge. Go ‘head. You’re in for a real treat!

 

 

New Character I’ve Met This Year That I’d Love to Have a Drink With

 

Anthony Bidulka’s Russell Quant

Angela Savage’s Jayne Keeney

Donna Malane’s Diane Rowe

Alan Orloff’s Channing Hayes

 

All of these sleuths are absolutely terrific characters whom I’m really happy that I met. They’re all smart, interesting and I’m sure they’d be a lot of fun to know in person. My vote, by a slim margin (‘cause they’re all great characters) is Anthony Bidulka’s Russell Quant. Quant’s smart, thoughtful, interesting, and knows lots of cool places to eat and drink. I could truly enjoy sharing a bottle of good wine and swapping stories with him. His would probably trump mine by a long shot. Check out all of these protagonists, folks – they’re all worth getting to know.

 

 

Author Whose Next Release I Am Most Eager For (Fingers are Drumming and I’m Waiting……Still Waiting…)

 

Paddy Richardson

Adrian Hyland

William Ryan

James Craig

 

All of these authors have wowed me with their novels. And now that I’ve gotten hooked it’s really very unfair to keep me waiting. Come on, you folks!! Next novel, please!!!!!!  There are a few other authors who’ve gotten me hooked (e.g. Elizabeth Spann Craig and Donna Malane), but I know when their next books are coming out, so I’ll be patient. But I am especially eager to read the next book by… Adrian Hyland. Hyland’s Emily Tempest series is one of the finest series I’ve read, and I really truly hope there’ll be a new one soon. A-a-a-hem, Mr. Hyland!!!

So there you have it. A few reflections on my own reading as we face the last few weeks of 2012. Now, please don’t ask me which book I’ve liked most of all I’ve read this year. First of all, the year isn’t over yet. Secondly, I couldn’t narrow it down.

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Jonathan Larson’s Seasons of Love.

I Know That It’s Time For a Cool Change*

Did you ever have the urge to make a major change in your life? Sometimes people make those big changes because they’re not happy with the way their lives are going (a job one dislikes for instance). Sometimes a tragedy or setback such as a death or job loss can force a major change. Either way, making a major change can be just as challenging as it can be positive.  Even if it’s a change for the better, and a change one’s chosen, it’s never easy to leave a familiar way of living life. And that’s part of what can make that kind of major change an interesting backdrop or plot point for a crime fiction novel. The anxiety of a major change (and sometimes the reasons for it) can add an interesting thread of suspense to a story.

For example, Agatha Christie’s Murder in Mesopotamia begins with a major change in the life of Amy Leatheran, who works at Miss Bendix’s Nursing Home. One of her maternity patients, a Mrs. Kelsey, is moving with her husband and brand-new baby to Iraq, and Leatheran accompanies her to look after the baby. Once they arrive in Baghdad, the family no longer needs Leatheran’s services so she plans at first to return to England. Then she gets an interesting proposition. Dr. Giles Reilly, whom she meets in Baghdad, is acquainted with a noted archaeologist Eric Leidner, who’s leading a dig team about four hours from Baghdad. Leidner is in need of a nurse/companion for his wife Louise, who’s been troubled by what some people call fancies: hands tapping at windows, faces looking into windows and so on. Reilly thinks that Leatheran may be the right choice for this position, so he puts the idea to her. After a bit of thought she agrees to make this change. And it is a major change. Leatheran’s used to living in England and it’s hard to get accustomed to the different lifestyle and culture she encounters in Iraq. But she’s not the fearful kind, so she plunges into her new work. Then one afternoon Louise Leidner is killed by a blow to the head. Hercule Poirot is travelling in the area on his way back to London. He’s persuaded to take a little time and investigate the murder. He finds that Louise Leidner’s fears were based on her past, and that her past has a lot to do with the murder.

Robert B. Parker’s Jesse Stone finds he has to make some major changes in Night Passage. He and his wife Jenn have ended their marriage, and although they both knew the marriage wasn’t healthy, they both have to deal with their feelings for each other. Stone deals with his by drinking. A lot. In fact he drinks his way out of his job as an L.A.P.D. homicide cop. He gets a chance for a fresh start when he is interviewed for the job as chief of police of Paradise, Massachusetts. It’s a small town on the other side of the continent and it’s about as different from his L.A. life as one can get. Even though he shows up drunk for the interview, Stone is surprisingly offered the job and takes it. He starts over in Paradise only to find that he’s plunged into something very ugly. First he gets into a feud with local thug JoJo Genest. Then, the body of a young woman is discovered. In the meantime, Stone finds proof of what he’s suspected: he wasn’t exactly hired to perform high-quality police service. He was hired because the town council thought he would be easily manipulated. They’re wrong though and in the end, Stone uncovers what’s really going on in Paradise and how that is connected with the death and with the reason the town needed a new police chief in the first place.

In Rebecca Tope’s A Cotswold Killing, Thea Osborne has to face another kind of change. A year ago her husband Carl was killed by a careless driver and she’s been grieving since that time. As she slowly starts to deal with the loss, Thea decides to make a major change and take up a job as a professional house-sitter. Her first clients are Clive and Jennifer Reynolds, who live in the Cotswold village of Duntisbourne Abbots. They’re going on a three-week cruise and are very anxious that everything should run smoothly at the house. Thea takes the job but it’s soon clear that this isn’t an ordinary house-sitting job. Clive Reynolds has given her a long list of exhaustively detailed instructions for just about everything in the house, garden, yard and fields. Thea’s a little put off by the long and particular “to-do” list but she gets started. On the first afternoon, she gets a visit from a neighbour Joel Jennison, who says that he’s stopped by to let her know where they are if she needs anything. Sometime late that night, Jennison is murdered and his body left in the pond at the Reynolds’ home. Thea knows nothing about detection but she is curious and besides, Joel Jennison was the only villager who’d taken the time to welcome her. So she begins to ask questions. Thea soon finds that Jennison’s brother Paul was killed only six months earlier. Now it seems as though something strange and very, very dangerous is going on in this village and that one of the reasons the locals are cold to her is that they know more than they’re saying.

A family death also brings great change for Alan Orloff’s Josh Handleman in Diamonds for the Dead. Handleman lives in San Francisco where his life is at a crossroads. His marriage has ended and so has his job. Then he gets word that his father Abe has died after a fall down the stairs at the family home in Virginia. So Handleman goes to Virginia to plan his father’s funeral and settle his estate. That’s when one of Abe Handleman’s friends tells Josh that his father’s death was not an accident – he was murdered. What’s more, Josh discovers that his father had a cache of very valuable jewels, and they’ve disappeared. Now he’s anxious about his future, dealing with his feelings about his father’s death and trying to find out who killed his father.

In Martin Edwards’ The Coffin Trail, we meet Oxford historian Daniel Kind. He’s become very successful not only as a scholar but also as a television personality. Then his girlfriend Aimee commits suicide and Kind has to entirely re-think his life. He meets a new woman Miranda and they begin a relationship. Kind needs a major change in his life so he and Miranda take Tarn Cottage in the Lakes District, hoping to settle into a quieter life away from the stress and frantic pace of life in London. In the meantime, DCI Hannah Scarlett is facing a major change of her own. She’s been named to head the newly-created Cold Case Review team. Although it’s seen as a demotion, Scarlett is a dedicated cop and wants to do her best. She and her team take up the case of the murder of Gabrielle Anders, whose body was found on an old sacrificial stone near the village of Brackdale. At the time of Anders’ death, everyone thought she was killed by Barrie Gilpin, who himself was killed in a tragic fall not long afterwards. Scarlett has never thought Gilpin killed Anders. So she and her team look into both deaths. As it turns out, Tarn Cottage used to belong to Barrie Gilpin and Kind even knew Gilpin. So in his own way, Kind gets involved in this murder investigation too. The anxiety both Scarlett and Kind feel about the changes in their lives add a thread of interest and suspense to this novel.

Simon Beckett’s forensic anthropologist David Hunter has to face that same anxiety at change in Whispers of the Dead. Hunter feels strongly the need to get out of his native London for a time. His relationship with his girlfriend Jenny has ended although he still has feelings for her. And because of the events in Written in Bone, the previous entry in this series, Hunter has the need to heal both physically and psychologically. So he decides to do some research at Tennessee’s Anthropological Research Laboratory. He’s settling in for his stay there when a decomposed body is found near a remote cabin not far from the laboratory. Then another body is found. Now Hunter finds himself involved in a complicated investigation that will use all of his forensics skills.

And…speaking of major changes and things new, Elizabeth Spann Craig’s new series has just been launched! Today is the release date for Quilt or Innocence, the first in her Beatrice Coleman series. In that novel, Beatrice Coleman has just retired from her career in Atlanta. She takes the opportunity that major change brings and moves to Dappled Hills, North Carolina, to be near her daughter Piper. Her plans to settle into a more relaxed lifestyle and enjoy retirement soon get scuttled when she is “volunteered” for the local quilting guild. It’s not long before Coleman finds out that the members of this guild do as much mean-spirited gossiping and backstabbing as they do quilting. Then one day she finds the body of one of the guild members. As if that’s not enough she herself begins to get threatening notes. It seems that someone is targeting the guild members, so Coleman has to find out who the guild’s enemy is before she becomes the next victim. Congratulations, Elizabeth, on your release and I wish you much success. Folks, if Elizabeth’s other two series, her Myrtle Clover series and her Memphis Barbecue series (which she writes as Riley Adams) are any indication, this is going to be a fine cosy series!

 

 
 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from Little River Band’s Cool Change.

Pleased to Meet You, Hope You Guess My Name*

Not very long ago, Elizabeth Spann Craig posed a really interesting question on her excellent blog. Her question had to do with using a pen name when one writes. It’s an interesting question, too, for an author to consider. When I first began to write fiction, several people asked me whether I would use a pen name, since I’d already had some non-fiction books published. I took the decision at the time to use my real name for my fiction. I honestly can’t say that I had a well-thought-out reason for doing so; probably the best way to describe my thinking is that I didn’t have a good reason not to use my real name for both my fiction and my non-fiction. And I’m not alone in that choice.

Rob Kitchin, for instance, is the author of two fine crime fiction novels, The Rule Book and The White Gallows. Both feature his sleuth Colm McEvoy. Kitchin also uses his own name as the author or co-author of several texts on human geography including Key Texts in Human Geography, The Cognition of Geographic Space and Disability, Space and Society (Changing Geography).

Adrian Hyland has also chosen to use his own name for different kinds of writing. Crime fiction fans know and admire him for his novels Diamond Dove (AKA Moonlight Downs) and Gunshot Road, which feature Aboriginal Community Police Officer (ACPO) Emily Tempest. Hyland has also written Kinglake-350, a non-fiction account of Australia’s worst bush fire, the Kinglake fires of 8 February 2009. This book gives an account of the outbreak of the fires and their paths, tells the story of how various people coped with them and how the whole process was managed. The book also takes up the larger global issues of how the conditions that led to the fires were created.

Another author who’s chosen to use her own name for all of her work is Paddy Richardson. Richardson’s written two collections of short stories and a novel, The Company of a Daughter, that aren’t crime fiction. She’s also written two crime fiction novels, Hunting Blind and Traces of Red, as well as A Year to Learn a Woman, which is a novel of psychological suspense.

There are many other authors, too, who’ve used their own names for all of their writing no matter the genre or sub-genre. I’m sure you could think of more than I could. But there are also authors who’ve chosen to use different names for different kinds of writing.

For instance, Agatha Christie is one of the best-known names in crime fiction. Under her own name she wrote several crime fiction series, standalones and short story collections. What not everyone knows is that she also wrote six other novels under the name of Mary Westmacott. The Westmacott novels aren’t crime fiction. They feature a variety of characters and plots and in them Christie explores identity, relationships, love in its various forms and even obsession. What’s interesting, too, is that the Mary Westmacott novels were published during the years that the Agatha Christie novels were being published. That is, Christie didn’t begin by using one name and then choose another. She used a pen name, or so I understand, to “try something different.”

Another author who’s chosen to write different kinds of novels under different names is Alan Orloff. Under his own name, Orloff has written a crime fiction standalone, Diamonds for the Dead (Is Josh Handleman going to make a return, Alan?) and the Last Laff series, a crime fiction series featuring standup comedian Channing Hayes. Under the name Zak Allen, Orloff has also written two standalone horror/thriller novels, The Taste and First Time Killer.

Nora Roberts has also chosen to use different names for different kinds of novels. Under her own name, Roberts has written many romance novels, some of which are standalones and some of which are small series. In fact, she was the first author to be inducted into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. But Roberts has another identity: J.D. Robb. Under that pen name, she writes the In Death series featuring police officer Eve Dallas. She’s also used other pen names for a few of her works.

Some authors choose to use pen names even when they don’t venture far outside their genre, so to speak. For instance, Ruth Rendell has been writing under her own name since 1964’s release of the first novel in her popular Inspector Wexford series, From Doon With Death. Since that time, Rendell has also written several standalones and short stories using her own name. Since 1986’s A Dark-Adapted Eye, Rendell has also written novels of dark psychological suspense under the name of Barbara Vine. Under both names, she’s won millions of fans and it’s common knowledge that Ruth Rendell and Barbara Vine are one and the same.

John Dickson Carr wrote the Gideon Fell crime fiction series (and many other novels, too) under his own name. There are far too many to list here, but the name of John Dickson Carr is one of the most famous names in Golden Age crime fiction. Carr also wrote several novels under the name of Carter Dickson. Many of the Carter Dickson novels feature locked-room expert Sir Henry Merrivale. Carr also wrote several short stories under both names.

Elizabeth Spann Craig has used her own name for her series featuring the small town of Bradley, North Carolina and retired teacher Myrtle Clover. She’s chosen to use a pen name, Riley Adams, for her Memphis Barbecue series that features restaurant owner Lulu Taylor and takes place mostly in Memphis. Craig’s chosen to use her own name for her upcoming Southern Quilting series which features retired museum curator Beatrice Coleman. All three series are cosy series that take place in the American South, but they feature different kinds of sleuths and other characters, and different settings.

As you can see, there really isn’t a “right answer” as to whether an author should use a pen name or not. Some very successful authors do; others don’t. What’s your view? Is it off-putting when an author you know from one kind of writing also does another? Do you prefer that authors use pen names for different kinds of writing? If you’re a writer, how do you feel? Do you (will you) use a pen name? Why?

 

 

 

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from the Rolling Stones’ Sympathy for the Devil.

It’s Really Good to See You Once Again*

Writers are often told to “show not tell.” And in general, that’s a fairly sound principle. Readers don’t want to wade through pages of description. They want the author to get on with the story and the character development, and too much “telling” pulls the reader out of the story. On the other hand (there is always that other hand isn’t there), readers also don’t want flat characters and they don’t want to be left out, so to speak. Including a certain amount of information in a story – especially backstory – gives the reader insight into the characters and makes the reader feel a part of what’s going on. One way that well-written crime fiction strikes this balance is to integrate characters from the sleuth’s past. As we see the sleuth interacting with these people, we learn backstory and we get insight into what motivates the sleuth. We can also get a perspective on the sleuth’s view of a case.

For example, in the course of his work, Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot interacts more than once with people from his past in Belgium. In fact, that’s one interesting role that Chief Inspector James “Jimmy” Japp plays in the novels that feature him; he gives us a little of Poirot’s backstory and updates us without Christie having to tell us what’s happened in Poirot’s life. For instance, in The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Poirot and Captain Hastings investigate the poisoning death of Emily Ingelthorp. Two Scotland Yard men – one of whom is Japp – attend the inquest and get involved in the investigation. As everyone’s leaving the inquest, Poirot introduces Hastings to Japp, who introduces Poirot to his colleague this way:

 

“You’ve heard me speak of Mr. Poirot? It was in 1904 he and I worked together–the Abercrombie forgery case–you remember, he was run down in Brussels. Ah, those were great days, moosier. Then, do you remember ‘Baron’ Altara? There was a pretty rogue for you! He eluded the clutches of half the police in Europe. But we nailed him in Antwerp–thanks to Mr. Poirot here.”

 

We don’t have to be given a lot of description about Poirot’s life in the Belgian police force; other characters refer to it and that gives the reader that information.

We also see that strategy used effectively in Åsa Larsson’s Sun Storm (AKA The Savage Altar). Stockholm tax attorney Rebecka Martinsson gets a call one day from a former friend Sanna Strångard. Sanna has discovered the murdered body of her brother Viktor in a local church in Martinsson’s home town of Kiruna. Sanna begs her friend to return to Kiruna and help her through this difficult time. At first Martinsson is very reluctant to take this trip; she’s put Kiruna behind her for some good reasons. But Sanna Strångard is very persuasive and eventually Martinsson makes the trip. The two old friends do some catching up and through that, we find out several things about what each one has been doing. We discover, for instance, that after leaving Kiruna, Martinsson moved to Uppsala where she studied law, and then moved to Stockholm. Sanna Strångard, on the other hand, remained in Kiruna where she had two children. We don’t learn these details through pages and pages of description. The strategy of having Martinsson catch up with someone she’s known for a long time gives readers the information.

In Donna Malane’s Surrender, missing person’s expert Diane Rowe is still recovering from the murder of her younger sister Niki. At the time of the murder, the police suspected that James Patrick “Snow” Wilson was the murderer but could never prove it. Now Wilson himself has been murdered in the same way that Niki was. Before his death, Snow confessed – actually bragged – that he killed Niki Rowe and that he was hired to do so. Now Rowe wants to find out who hired him and why. So she starts to ask questions, although she’s told more than once that the police are taking care of the matter. In the meantime, Rowe’s been hired by Inspector Frank McFay to find the identity of a “John Doe” whose partial skeleton was found in the Rimutaka State Forest. The arrangement is that Rowe will be given space at the local police station to do her work. When she gets there, her interactions with others at the station show us (rather than tell us) that she’s worked there before “on contract,” and that she knows a number of people. As she catches up with old acquaintances we learn that she’s been suffering since Niki’s death and the breakup of her marriage. Those conversations give readers insight into her character, too, and save the reader lots of needless description.

Andrea Camilleri frequently uses those “catch up” sessions to give readers insight into the cases that his Salvo Montalbano investigates. One of Montalbano’s friends is Nicolò Zito, a journalist with Vigatà’s Free Channel. Zito is always eager to expose high-level corruption, and he knows pragmatically that having a good friendship with a cop is an effective way to get stories. Besides that the two men like and respect each other. So Montalbano and Zito frequently catch up with each other and exchange news about stories Zito’s working on and cases Montalbano is investigating. In the context of those exchanges, we learn about the cases that are the focus of the story. For instance, in The Wings of the Sphinx, it’s partly through exchanges between Montalbano and Zito that we learn the truth behind the disappearance of wood merchant Arturo Picarella, whom everything thinks was abducted and probably murdered.  We also get some interesting insights into Montalbano’s up-and-down relationship with his longtime lover Livia Burlando.

Alan Orloff makes use of the “catch-up” session to tell the story of his sleuth, stand-up comic and comedy club part-owner Channing Hayes. In Killer Routine we learn that Hayes’ fiancée Lauren Dempsey was killed in a terrible car accident, and that Hayes himself was permanently injured. As Hayes slowly starts to return to life and work, he interacts with several comedy club owners, fellow comedians and others in the comedy business as he searches for Lauren’s sister Heather, who’s disappeared. That, as much as anything else, is how we learn that Hayes was a respected comic before the accident, and that since that time he’s been more or less in hibernation. That’s also one way in which Orloff gives us insight into how the accident and Dempsey’s death has affected Hayes. We don’t have to be told that Hayes has suffered greatly and that he is grieving. In fact, pages of description of his grief would most likely pull the reader out of this story.

And that’s the thing about those “catch up” sessions. They can give the reader insight into a character as well as information about a case; that’s what can make them effective tools for “showing not telling.”

 

On Another Note…

 

Want to catch up with what I’ve been doing lately? Fellow author and blogger Lisette Brodey’s protagonist Molly Hacker has asked me to fill her in. I’m proud to be among several authors that Hacker interviewed, and whom she asked for an update. You can check out what I had to tell her here. Just scroll down a bit and you’ll find me .

 

 
 

*NOTE:  The title of this post is a line from Eric Clapton’s Hello, Old Friend.