There’s a place for us.

 

            When I published my first mystery novel, I knew nothing about the mystery world and the writers, readers, reviewers and journalists who inhabit it.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  I’d written the thing in complete isolation, informed only by the hardboiled classics and my

twisted imagination.   So I brought my book to a mystery bookstore, The Black Orchid in New York run by Bonnie Claeson and Joe Guglielmelli.  Bonnie spent about two hours giving me advice, the first of which was to “Go to Bouchercon and hang out at the bar.”  I thought, this is something I know how to do.

            What I discovered has been as meaningful to me as publishing the books and short stories.  A big community filled with intelligent, witty, gracious and generous people.  I never would have expected this in a million years.  I assumed that writers were all introverted shut-ins, protective of their work and privacy above all else.  Not even close.  All I heard at that first Bouchercon was wall-to-wall counsel, useful information and welcoming words.  And encouragement.  Not just from the writers, but the booksellers, reviewers and magazine publishers, people like George Easter, Chris Aldrich and Jon Jordan. 

            I was hardly ever a shut-in, but I’m by nature an introvert who fancies solitary pursuits.  So I’m not naturally a joiner.  But in the mystery world, I fell in with a good crowd.  Aside from Bouchercon, I became devoted to Crime Bake in New England, which had some overlap with Bouchercon, but introduced me to a different sort of writer-oriented, and extremely involving conference.  Likewise Killer Nashville, ThrillerFest and SleuthFest.

            Twenty years later, I have a whole crop of lifelong friends.  I’m not a sentimental person, but I’m deeply grateful for these associations and all the experiences that have come from entangling myself in this hidden, delightful subculture. 

           

            I joined the New York Chapter of the Mystery Writers of America, which is geographically enormous.  Richie Narvaez, then chapter president, was eager to bring more programming out to his far-flung domain, and asked if I could do something in Connecticut.  The result was CrimeCONN, a one-day conference co-sponsored by MWA/NY and the Ferguson Library in Stamford.  I teamed up with my longtime editor, Jill Fletcher, to create the programs and we’ve been doing it now for eleven years.  It’s been a rollicking success, and you should come next year, especially if you live in the Greater New York area. 

            I imagine most readers of SleuthSayers have been in the game a long time and are familiar with everything I’m writing here.  The people who really need to read it are the aspiring, at any age, who feel isolated as I did, in a state of doubt and confusion.  The social element is great, and I treasure it, but equally valuable is the ongoing education.  I walk away from every conference, including ours – especially ours – having learned something I didn’t know before, and wouldn’t if I hadn’t been there listening.  I may or may not find it useful for my writing, but I love to learn in general, and nothing makes me happier than gaining an insight that topples a pre-conceived notion, or a bit of knowledge that is entirely novel. 

            I’m not exactly sure why people pre-occupied with murder and dastardly criminal behavior would be such convivial companions, but there you go.  Through all this I’ve also become friends with people in law enforcement, and feel the same way about them.  They

don’t fit the stereotype at all, especially the detectives, attorneys and forensic experts.  They are universally bright, self-effacing and quick witted.  Even cheerful in a disarming, irreverent sort of way.  They tend to admire us fiction writers as much as we admire them, even though we often test their patience with our accuracy and fact-checking.  But they’ll tell you, “That’s okay.  You’re just trying to tell a good story.”

            Lilly Tomlin once said, “No matter how cynical you get, you just can’t keep up.”  That’s how it feels these days, and it’s easy to just succumb to the prevailing oppressive mood.  But just coming off our most recent CrimeCONN, I feel like declaring for the optimists – that there are good people in the world doing good work, and supporting one another, with thoughtfulness and generosity of spirit. 

Wipe Out

Michael, standing at the ShortCon 2025
registration table moments before
attendees arrived.

“Banzai Pipeline,” published May 23 by Kelp Journal, is one of the stories I used during my presentation at ShortCon 2025 as an example of writing a story for an anthology submission call, but finishing well past the deadline.

At the conference, I presented “Writing for Anthologies: How to Slip Between the Covers,” which was an overview of the various types of anthologies, how they are conceived and assembled, things writers can do to improve the odds of acceptance, and what to do with stories that didn’t make the cut.

And I veered a bit off-track when I briefly discussed “Banzai Pipeline,” a story that exists because of an anthology’s open call for submissions but was never submitted to that anthology.

A while back there was a call for crime fiction short stories inspired by musical one-hit wonders, and I wondered what song with the fewest number of words in its lyrics could inspire a story. The answer was:

Two. Two words.

I chose The Safari’s “Wipe Out.”

(The Champs’s “Tequila,” with a single word repeated three times, might be an even greater challenge.)

The sound of a breaking surfboard, followed by a maniacal laugh and someone shouting, “Wipe Out,” provided both the setting and the inciting incident for my story.

Writing the opening proved easy enough. The surfer who wiped out dies, his girlfriend thinks he was murdered, and the private eye she hires to investigate knows nothing about surfing.

Then I wiped out. The wave of inspiration collapsed beneath me, I found myself floundering, and the file remained unfinished on my computer as I moved on to other projects.

One day, while falling into a research rabbit hole for another project, I discovered “Hawaii: Black Royalty in the Pacific,” and what I read upended everything I thought I knew about the ethnicity of our 50th state.

And I knew what my story was about, and knew it wasn’t just about investigating a possible murder.

I finished the story, changed the title from “Wipe Out” to “Banzai Pipeline” and submitted it to various publications until it found a home with Kelp Journal.

Michael, pontificating about
anthologies at ShortCon 2025.

NOT THE FIRST TIME

Something similar happened with “Denim Mining” (AHMM, May/June 2023).

I had already begun writing “Denim Mining” when the 2019 Bouchercon in Dallas announced that the theme of their anthology was denim and diamonds. Incorporating diamonds into the story I had already begun was no problem. Unfortunately, as with “Banzai Pipeline,” the wave of inspiration collapsed when I ran into a problem.

The solution, in this case, wasn’t diving down a research rabbit hole, but help from fellow SleuthSayer Leigh Lundin. He provided a few suggestions as well as information about gunpowder that gave me what I needed to finish the story.

LESSONS LEARNED

The lesson I intended to impart at ShortCon when I shared the story of “Banzai Pipeline” is to never give up on a good story even if the inspiring project’s submission window ends before you finish writing.

And if you do finish your story in time, and it gets rejected, keep it circulating. That’s what fellow SleuthSayer Joseph Walker did with “Give or Take a Quarter of an Inch,” rejected from the same Boucheron anthology to which I had intended to submit “Demin Mining.” He placed it with Tough, it was selected for inclusion in The Best Mystery Stories of the Year, and then it was reprinted in The Saturday Evening Post.

So, how about you? Have you missed a submission deadline and still sold the resulting story? Or has a story rejected by the editor of a themed anthology later appeared in a better market or received recognition?

Murder, Neat is on a Roll!

In February of 2024, I had the good fortune of having my turn to post here on SleuthSayers fall on the very day that our first anthology, Murder, Neat, was released. The book has twenty-four short stories, all written by members of this blog. Michael Bracken and I edited it, stepping in after our original editor and fellow SleuthSayer, the late Paul D. Marks, fell ill.

Every anthology editor has high hopes their baby will be well received and that the individual stories in it will be beloved. (The authors with stories in the book hope that too, of course.) So you can imagine the smiles we all shared when Murder, Neat was named one of the six finalists a few months ago for the inaugural Derringer Award for Best Anthology. Those smiles turned to grins on May 1 when we won the Derringer, especially because the competition was stiff. (Hats off to the editors and authors of the other five anthologies. You can find a list of the finalists here.) 

Then, a couple of weeks ago, Murder, Neat was named a finalist for this year's Anthony Award in the Best Anthology category. Talk about icing on a delicious cake. So this is a good time to remind you about the anthology and, if you haven't read it, entice you to do so. (I also hope you will check out the four other anthologies nominated for the Anthony Award. Bouchercon attendees, please read before you vote. You can find the names of the nominated anthologies, as well as the finalists in all the other categories, here. One of those other anthologies was edited by Michael Bracken (him again!), working with fellow SleuthSayer Stacy Woodson.)

Back to Murder, Neat. Every story takes the reader to a location where drinking happens. Bars--be they regular, college, dive, or gastropub--make an appearance, of course, as do restaurants and even a winery. What also happens in those locations? Crime, of course!

When the book came out, Art Taylor, a retired fellow SleuthSayer with a story in the book, hosted four other of our bloggers on his personal blog, The First Two Pages. There they each wrote about--no surprise here--the first two pages of their stories. I invite you to click here to read the first of those essays, by Melodie Campbell. Near the bottom of that screen, you will be able to click to read the next essay by one of the Murder, Neat bloggers, Lawrence Maddox, followed by one by David Edgerley Gates, and finally, one by Leigh Lundin.

If you haven't yet read Murder, Neat, you can purchase it in trade paperback and ebook. We all hope you enjoy it. Cheers!

Finally, before I go, a little more news: I'm honored to have been named a finalist for this year's Anthony Award for Best Short Story for my tale "A Matter of Trust," which appeared in the anthology Three Strikes--You're Dead! The other nominated authors are James D.F. Hannah, Curtis Ippolito, Gabriel Valjan, and Kristopher Zgorski. I hope you will take the time to read all of their nominated stories. You can find the names of those stories by clicking on the link in the third paragraph of this blog. And you can read my story here.

Behind the Scenes: Scattered, Smothered, Covered, and Chunked

On Wednesday, I learned Scattered, Smothered, Covered, and Chunked: Crime Fiction Inspired by Waffle House (Down and Out Books), is nominated for an Anthony Award for best anthology.

It is an amazing honor and privilege to have co-edited an anthology with my mentor and friend, Michael Bracken. I could not have imagined a more PERFECT moment than when we received this incredible news. 

 

Michael mentioned in a recent SleuthSayers post that he doesn’t view an anthology award as an editor’s award; he views it like the Academy Award for Best Picture because it reflects the work of an entire team of people—editors and writers, our cover designer, and publisher—to succeed. I share his view and am deeply grateful for our team of talented contributors including stories written by Alan S. Orloff, Nils Gilbertson, J.D. Allen, Mark Bergin, Bonnar Spring, Austin S. Camacho, Tammy Euliano, Ann Aptaker, Penny Mickelbury, Donna Andrews, Sherry Harris, Deb Merino, Sean McCluskey, Michael Bracken, Andrew Welsh-Huggins, Hugh Lessig, and the brilliant cover designed by Angela Carlton. 

This is my first published anthology sitting in a co-editor’s seat. How did I get so lucky? The short answer is Michael Bracken. 

Birth of an Idea

In 2018, I attended Malice Domestic for the first time and met Michael Bracken. He was my port in the speed dating storm. It was a pivotal moment in my writing career (more on that here). During the years that followed, I had an opportunity to contribute stories to several of his anthologies, including one story we co-wrote together that was short-listed for a Derringer Award. Often, we met for lunch at writing conferences, and our conversation always turned to anthology ideas. I had the best time brainstorming with him and quickly learned which anthology ideas worked and why others didn’t.

 

So, in May 2023, it wasn’t unusual that I sent Michael an email with another anthology idea, two proposed titles for one concept: The Pull, The Drop, The Mark OR Scattered, Covered, Smothered, and Chunked: Crime Fiction Inspired by Waffle House. 

 

He thought the idea was promising, suggested a revised title (featured on the cover), and asked if I would like to co-edit the project with him. I had little experience. The opportunity to learn from Michael was something I couldn’t pass up. I quickly agreed, and it has been a master class.

 

Takeaways Co-editing with the Master

Shared Vision

Both editors need to share the same vision for an anthology. This vision shapes submission guidelines, influences how stories are edited, and who is invited to contribute.

 

Workflow

Version control is critical. Mistakes are easy to make, especially when two people are editing the same project. Before the project begins, decisions need to be made on which editor communicates directly with authors, which editor communicates with the publisher, and workflow—how stories are received, labeled, stored, and move through the editing process. 

 

Deadlines

Life happens, often things we can’t predict—a death in the family, illness, home repairs, etc. It’s important to create realistic deadlines with these moments in mind.

 

Assembling the Team

Several factors determine which type of submission call works for which project. With time constraints and juggling several projects, Michael and I decided submission by invitation only had to be our approach. We reached out to authors we admired—both multi-award winning and rising stars.

 

Working with the Publisher

Understanding the publisher’s requirements and deadlines are crucial. The finished manuscript should be formatted to the publisher’s specifications, and each step in the process—checking the publisher’s copyedits, reviewing the page proofs, checking the cover copy, and collaborating on the cover image—should all happen in a prompt and professional manner.

 

Working with the Authors

Maintaining communication with contributors builds trust and respect. Michael insisted we maintain regular contact with our contributors and send updates during each step in the process. I appreciated this as a contributor to Michael’s anthologies. Now, having co-edited an anthology, I also appreciate the extra effort this requires and the importance of maintaining a professional relationship with authors.

 

Have you co-edited an anthology? Are you an author who worked with more than one editor on a project? What insights can you share?

***

Speaking of teams, we are assembling one in New Orleans! If you love waffles and crime fiction stories, we hope you will celebrate this incredible Anthony Award nomination with us, along with the awards our contributors have recently received for their Waffle House-inspired stories. 

Tammy Euliano’s “Heart of Darkness” won the Derringer Award for best short story of the year. 

Sean McCluskey’s “The Secret Menu” was selected by Otto Penzler and John Grisham for Mysterious Bookshop's anthology: The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2025.

Want to read Scattered, Smothered, Covered, and Chunked: Crime Fiction Inspired by Waffle House? Find it here.

 

Find me at Bouchercon (September 3-7), mention Scattered, Smothered, Covered, and Chunked, and receive waffle-inspired swag in honor of our talented team. Hope to see you there!

 

 

 

Schrodinger's Finalist

 

"Well, Mickey, it's an exciting day here in Robert Lopresti's house."

"It sure is, Ray.  Maybe we better tell the people why."

"Good idea.  This is the morning of May first, when the winners of the Derringer Awards are announced.  And as you know, Lopresti has been nominated for best novella."

"Which of his stories was that for, Ray?"

"'Christmas Dinner.'"

"That's right! I believe it was his third story about Delgardo, the beatnik detective--"

"Beat poet, Mickey.  The character hates being called a beatnik."

"Right you are, Ray. And we are here waiting to find out whether Lopresti won the Award or bombed.  Say, isn't he usually awake by now?"

"I believe he is."

"So why is he sleeping late on today of all days?"

"Maybe because this is the big day.  I mean, he might be the winner or he might not.  As long as he doesn't check his mail you might say both states are possible. (Chuckle.) Sort of like Schrodinger's cat."

"I've always felt bad about that cat.  Somebody ought to call the Humane Society."

"There was never a real cat, Mickey.  It's just-- Wait! Here he is. Lopresti has left the bedroom.  I see he has his phone in his hand and he's scrolling down the screen."

"The suspense is incredible, Ray.  When is he going to--"

"And there it is!  You can see it in his face.  That's a man who just lost."

"You know what he'll say, Ray.  It's an honor just to be nominated."

"That's true, it is. What's he doing now?"

"It looks like, yes, he's making a cup of tea.  That's quite a bold move."

"What do you mean, Mickey?"

"If I had just lost I would be drinking bourbon."

"At seven o'clock in the morning? Are you out of your--  Well, never mind.  Go in and interview him."

"Right.  Will do.  This is exclusive, folks. The first interview after the big loss.  Excuse me, Rob, I wonder if you have a few minutes--"

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"I'm a fictional construct."

"Oh. Another one. I swear, I'm gonna hire an exterminator."

"The fans were hoping for your thought on losing the Derringer Award."

 "Were they? Okay.  It's an honor just to be a finalist."

"I thought you were going to say to be a nominee."

"The Short Mystery Fiction Society tries to avoid that word, because any member or editor can submit a story for consideration. Some people call that a 'nomination,' which leads to all kinds of confusion."

"I see. But about your losing, that must be a great disappointment."

"Well, sure, I'd rather win -- which I have three times, by the way -- but I am delighted that Stacy Woodson, a friend and fellow SleuthSayer, took the prize. She turned in a great story. There's no shame in losing to the best."

"That's very big of you."

"Thanks. Oh, and don't forget that the SleuthSayers book Murder, Neat won the Best Anthology prize, and that's pretty special.  And I found out today a story I submitted was accepted for the New Orleans Bouchercon anthology."

"So, you aren't retiring."

"Hell, no."

"And what's next for Robert Lopresti?"

 "Tea. Probably a Danish, too."

"And after that?"

"I have to write a SleuthSayers essay for next Wednesday."

"What will it be about?"

"No clue.  I'll think of something."

"And there he goes, folks. A true professional.  With a Danish. It's apricot, I think. Back to you in the studio, Ray."

Remembering Ken Bruen

It was about two weeks ago we got the news Ken Bruen passed away. If you read Ken's Jack Taylor or Inspector Brant series, you know he infused every page with rage. You might call his writing "brutal poetry" as that's how he wrote prose. The violence and horror he depicted came to the reader like a long epic poem.

But in person, Ken was the kindest, most generous person to other writers. Quick to take an author he liked under his wing, he would nonetheless make it about something other than writing when you hung out with him. If he wasn't regaling you with stories of the people he met, he was listening to you. Because the stories all had to come from somewhere. Ken not only wanted to tell you where his came from; he wanted to know where yours came from.

I met Ken in 2004 at the Toronto Bouchercon. It was a year of firsts for me. My first novel was scheduled for the following year. It was my first trip to another country (during which my second day was spent, in part, at a Walmart and a McDonald's. But I did legally smoke a Cuban cigar!) I mingled, met some of the people I'd spoken to only online or at book signings. One of them tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Hey, Ken Bruen's taking a bunch of us up the street to an Irish pub. You're invited."

Me? Yes. Ken read a bunch of our stuff. So a handful of us, including our own Brian Thornton and Jersey writer Dave White, ended up a couple of blocks from the Intercontinental where the Jameson flowed, and so did the Molson. (Well, one of us insisted on drinking Guinness. "Dude, the famous Irish guy is drinking Molson. We're in Toronto!" "It's an Irish pub.")

Ken was partially, though not entirely, responsible for crime fiction writers of a certain age developing an obsession with Tom Waits. But Ken could personalize it, too. He me into a five-year binge of the late Rory Gallagher's work. Prior to meeting Ken, I knew Gallagher is one of those who floated in the same orbit as Clapton, Page, and Beck. Usually, I heard him on other people's stuff. But getting the CDs direct from Ireland was a revelation. 

And of course, there was the writing. The Guards grabbed me and threw me to the ground. I've read all but the latest Jack Taylor novels. The best was The Dramatist, but the ending was so harrowing I can never reread it. He could do that. He could put a reader through the emotional ringer yet leave them wanting more.

And now Jack's story is done. And Brant's. And Max's, his raucously funny series cowritten with Jason Starr (who knows a few things about putting readers through the meat grinder.) And unfortunately, Ken is gone. We miss you, buddy.

Recycling

 

What do you do when things haven’t worked out as you originally planned?

We recycle.

Last week, Black Cat Weekly ran my story, "Fifteen Minutes from Fame." Initially, I'd sent it to Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, but they passed. Keeping the universe balanced, AHMM ran my story, “The Angler’s Guide to Walleye Ice Fishing,” in the current March/April issue. In 2022, I submitted that story for the Minneapolis Bouchercon anthology. The Minnesota committee ultimately decided it wasn't one they'd include. I got a nice email of decline.

Like every other member of humanity, I never like getting rejected. But like everyone who submits stories, I accept it as part of the process. I try to find the positive. It means I’m producing and sticking myself out there. We can’t win if we don’t play.

And I really like it when a resubmission is accepted. It validates my belief that the story was worthwhile.

We all recycle. Blogs get repurposed. And stories take too much effort to write. We can't be one and done. 

To be clear, I don’t resubmit to the same publication. If an editor says no, I treat it as firm and move on. I don't want to damage my credibility with the small world of publishers by making a few cosmetic changes, giving the story a new title, and running it back in the hope that it'll sneak by this time. (The only exceptions are those rare times when a story is returned with a qualified rejection—the editor’s email told me that the story would likely be accepted if some changes were made.)

But that doesn’t mean that I give up on the other stories either.

Michael, Barb, and other folks who regularly make editorial decisions have discussed on different blogs why stories might get rejected. They've taught me that rejection does not always mean I've written a bad story. They've emphasized the subjective element of acceptance/rejection. I take my editors at face value. Success or failure may turn on factors over which I have no control. If they've accepted a story with a theme like mine recently, my story may not have a chance, regardless of its strength. I may be the victim of poor timing or bad luck.

Or I might have submitted a stinker.

Before recycling a story, I hope I use the rejection as an opportunity for reflection. I’ll reread my submission critically. Should I have ever sent it off to begin with? Assuming I come away from the reread convinced that the story has merit, I will invariably see ways that a rewrite might make it better. 

Occasionally, an editor’s rejection email points out what they didn't like about the story. I incorporate those comments into my review. But even if a rejection supplies no reason, its quick splash of cold water makes it easier to look at the story with an eye toward finding its flaws. After polishing it further, I'm reading to get this story back in the game. 

Before resubmitting, I need to ask whether I’m sending the story to an appropriate publication. I don’t want to throw my work time after time at calls that don't fit. Is this story right for the prompt? If I have to tilt my head and squint to see the connection, I should save the story for another day. If I have a dog story and the call is for a cat anthology, I can’t simply do a ‘find and replace’ and resubmit. I don’t need the rejection, and the editors don’t need the timewasters. As a writer, I need to maintain my credibility as someone who submits serious stories. That doesn’t involve depending on random chance.

I also like to wait before resubmitting. A bit of distance makes my self-examination more effective. It also separates me from the competition. I have no doubt that in the days after the Minneapolis anthology rejections went out, Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock were inundated with stories set in the upper Midwest. The two-year pause before my submission, I believe, let that wave pass. Hitchcock may have recognized it for what it was, but enough time had lapsed for them to be ready for a midwestern story again.  

We can't give up on the stories we've written—well, not most of them. They need to be recycled. Take heart from the words attributed to humorist Stephen Leacock. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no point in being a damn fool about it." 

Until next time.

I'm traveling on the day this blog posts. Apologies in advance if I don't respond promptly to replies. 

Remembering a Master of the Short Story

There's an old joke in the literary world: thousands of people make a good living every year teaching others how to write short stories; eight people make a good living every year writing short stories.

The exact numbers may be wonky, but the sentiment is true. Since the demise of the pulp fiction marketplace in the 1950s, novels have been the coin of the realm in publishing, not short stories, particularly within the genre fiction arena. That makes the career of Edward D. Hoch seem all the more remarkable. 

Ed Hoch (pronounced hoke) was born in 1930 in Rochester, New York, and he never strayed very far from his hometown. At the time of his death in 2008, he had published only a handful of novels, but nearly one-thousand short stories. His ground base was Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, which for years featured a Hoch story in every issue, though Ed published just about everywhere else (except Playboy, to his disappointment) and was highly sought-after by anthologists.

Ironically, even though he'd been writing since high school, it took Ed a while to make his first sale. After a stint in the military, he supported himself as a library researcher, ad copywriter, and PR agent, finally achieving authorhood in 1955 with a story in Famous Detective Stories. That tale's protagonist was "Simon Ark," who was not simply an amateur sleuth by an immortal, more than 2,000 years old, cursed to wander the earth and root out evil. Ark would go on to appear in forty-five more stories and would soon be joined by a phalanx of other series characters marching from Ed's fertile imagination. Among them were "Captain Jules Leopold," a conventional police detective operating in a mid-sized New England town; "Nick Velvet," a thief for hire; "Dr Sam Hawthorne," who specialized in locked-room mysteries' British cypher expert "Rand;" international couriers "Stanton and Ives;" Romany royal "Michael Vlado;" Revolutionary spy "Alexander Swift;" retain executive "Susan Holt;" mystery writer/amateur sleuth "Barney Hamnet;" private eye "Al Darlan;" "Sir Gideon Parrot," a gentle spoof of Golden Age cozy characters; and "Ben Snow," who solves mysteries in the Old West.

Ed also found time to pen a science fiction series centered on "The Computer Investigation Bureau" and several Sherlock Holmes pastiches. He also ghosted an Ellery Queen novel, The Blue Movie Murders (1972), though his best-known novel is probably The Shattered Raven (1969), a Barney Hamnet adventure set against an Edgar Award ceremony. Of the lot, Ed considered Nick Velvet his most profitable character, not because there were more Velvet stories than any of the others, but because he optioned the rights to television. Even though a series was never made, it was the gift that kept on paying. 

In addition to the "Ellery Queen" byline, Ed wrote as "Irwin Booth," "Stephen Dentinger" (Dentinger being his middle name), "Pat McMahon" (McMahon being his wife's maiden name), and "R.L. Stephens." He even turned out a string of stories featuring "David Piper, The Manhunter," which were bylined "Mr. X." Ed saved his most whimsical pseudonym for his non-fiction writing: "R.E. Porter."

Under any name and in any sub-genre, all Ed Hoch stories shared the same elements: intriguing and unusual characters, endless invention, and construction as solid as the Roman aqueduct. He was particularly adept at locked-room mysteries, creating astounding conundrums whose explanations turned out to be perfectly logical. Over his career, Ed received an Edgar, two Anthonys, a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Private Eye Writers of America, and a Grand Master Award from the MWA. Regarding the latter, Ed was one of only two authors who primarily wrote short stories to receive such an honor, the other being Stanley Ellin.

In 1999 I had the chance to chat with this genial master wordsmith at that year's Bouchercon in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. While I believe there is a special lava pit in Hell reserved for authors who ask other authors where they get their ideas, I had to ask Ed how he was able to come up with so many. His reply: "Something hits me, either a news article or some odd fact, and I say, 'Hey, I never knew that before, I could make that into a story.'"

Another technique of Ed's was to use ideas he'd seen elsewhere as a springboard for his own tales. "If I'm reading something or seeing a movie, even a mystery, sometimes it will occur to me how it could have been done better, and I take off from that point," he said. "The stories that I come up with will have no relation to the ones that first gave the thought to me."

He had more words of wisdom regarding mystery story construction. "I rarely have the murder right at the beginning of the story," he told me. "You can fool the reader if you introduce some of the actual clues before the murder, because they [readers] are not thinking of them, and they don't know what's going ot happen."

Edward D. Hoch's last published story appeared in the Winter 2008 issue of Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine. Ed never saw its publication, having passed away the previous January at the age of 77. He published in excess of 950 short stories during his half-century career, in later years averaging about twenty a year. For someone with that kind of output, there seems to be one obvious question: did Ed Hoch every experience writer's block?

"Sometimes I get caught up and I don't have any ideas," he confessed, "but then I think about it, or thing about which character I haven't used in quite a while, and the plot tends to come to me. I think the longest block I ever had was probably a day."

On a personal note, I experienced one of Ed's story inspirations first-hand. Picking up a copy of EQMM one time, I turned right away to that issue's Edward D. Hoch story and then did a spit-take as I read on the first page, "Father Mike Mallory..." I immediately emailed Ed to thank him for the honor. He replied, "Sorry for ordaining you."

Hey, Watch THIS . . .

 

My topic today is something I don't often talk about, or even think much about: experimental fiction.

You know what I mean. Stories or novels that are unusual in some way, most often in format, technique, or structure.

When I think experimental, I'm reminded of Faulkner writing a short story in first-person plural POV ("A Rose for Emily"), or Cormac McCarthy leaving quotation marks out of his novels, or Ernest Vincent Wright writing an entire novel (Gadsby) without using the letter e. Truth be told, I'm not fond of that kind of thing. 

But . . . what if it's not something too weird or too difficult? What if it's just writing a story in a new and different way, maybe venturing beyond your comfort zone, just to see if you can do it? (And maybe to keep from getting bored.) I doubt any of my stories will ever be written without paragraphs or quotation marks or upper-case letters--but there are some kinds of literary experimentation that are almost too tempting not to try.

So, here are a few of those. This is a list of my own attempts at experimental fiction, none of them too drastic and each one followed by an example:

- An entire story told backward, scene by scene, with the ending first and the beginning at the end. "The Midnight Child," Denim, Diamonds, and Death (Bouchercon 2019 anthology).

- A story that takes place within the span of one hour, using three different points of view: the first third is seen through the eyes of the antagonist, the second third the protagonist, the last third an onlooker. "An Hour at Finley's," Amazon Shorts.

- A story with three completely different cases and solutions within the same story. "The POD Squad" and "Scavenger Hunt," both at AHMM. 

- A story written with no dialogue at all. "Bennigan's Key," Strand Magazine.

- A story written using nothing but dialog--not even an attribute, like he said or she asked. "George on My Mind," completed (last week) but not yet submitted.

- A story with three equal parts, each from a different POV, each part beginning and ending with the same sentence. "Life Is Good," Passport to Murder (Bouchercon 2017 anthology).

- A story set entirely in one small, cramped location. "The Donovan Gang," AHMM (stagecoach), "The Red-Eye to Boston," Horror Library Vol. 6 (airplane), "The Winslow Tunnel" Amazon Shorts (passenger train), "Teamwork," AHMM (car), "Silent Partner," Crimestalker Casebook (rowboat), "Christmas Gifts," Reader's Break (elevator), "Merrill's Run," Mystery Weekly (car trunk). 

- A long, rhyming poem (256 lines) in story form. "Over the Mountains," Dreamland collection.

- A story whose title is the same as its length. "A Thousand Words," Pleiades.

- A story in letter form (epistolary). "The Home Front," Pebbles.

- A story told entirely in flashback: "Cargo," Black Cat Weekly.

- A story featuring only one character. "Windows," Land of 1000 Thrills (Bouchercon 2022 anthology).

- A story about a countdown, using a time (8:10, 8:14, 8:26, 8:27, etc.) as a title for every scene. "Twenty Minutes in Riverdale," Pulp Modern.

- A story about a historic event that's revealed only at the end (spoiler alert!): "Premonition," Pegasus Review (Lincoln's assassination); Stopover," T-Zero (Mount St. Helens); "Custom Design," Lines in the Sand (Noah's ark); "Partners," The Oak (the Alamo siege); "A Message for Private Kirby," Green's Magazine (Battle of the Little Bighorn); "A Place in History" Scifantastic (Pearl Harbor); "Tourist Trap," Pulp Modern Flash (Pompeii); "The Barlow Boys," Mystery Weekly (deaths of Bonnie and Clyde).

- A 26-word story in which each word begins with a different letter of the alphabet, in order. "Mission Ambushable," online contest. (I won!)

 

 - A story that references more than a dozen MacGuffins from other stories/movies. "Mayhem at the Mini-Mart," AHMM.

 

Have you tried any so-called experimental writing? Anything more challenging than my stellar efforts? (I would hope so.) How often have you done something like this? Did you find those stories/novels fun, or at least interesting, to write? Were any of them published? What are some types of experimental fiction that you've enjoyed reading?

And that's that. I'll be back in two weeks. Meanwhile, experimental or not--keep writing!

Stay Out of my Head

photo by Peter Rozovsky

 You have probably encountered Anthony Horowitz in one format or another.  He is a master of television, creating Foyle's War, being one of the first writers of Midsomer Murders, and so on.  His Susan Ryland novels and Alex Rider young adult books have been filmed for TV.

Recently I have been listening to audio versions of his Hawthorne novels.  They are deliberately odd books, featuring a narrator named Anthony Horowitz who writes novels and TV shows, and plays reluctant sidekick to Daniel Hawthorne, a former cop who was kicked off the force because he may (or may not) have thrown a pedophile down the stairs.  They are delightful fair play mysteries.

 Each book plays with the genre in different ways.  In the fifth book, Close to Death, Horowitz is on deadline to write another book but there are no convenient crimes to work on so he attempts to build a volume out of one of Hawthorne's former cases.  This means that big chunks of the book are in third person, since our narrator (Horowitz the narrator, not the audiobook's narrator.  Got it?) was not present for the events.

And that's where I got a big surprise.  At one point we are told that Hawthorne looked off and noticed something.  I don't have the exact wording because, as I have said, I was listening to an audio-book and it wasn't convenient to go back and find it. But I actually jumped a little when I heard that sentence.

Because we have never been allowed into the detective's head before.  That made even this tiny excursion there seem like a violation.  From then on I was paying attention and was able to copy down another example: "He didn't like to be close to people he didn't know." That is not narrator-Horowitz speaking but the omniscient third-person narrator, and it just felt like a violation.

The reason is that Hawthorne himself is a mystery (each book reveals a bit more about him, not all of it necessarily true) and also he is the detective.  We are not allowed to get into his head, because if we knew what he knew, the mystery would be over long before the end of the book.

This reminds me of something Mick Herron said at a Bouchercon I attended a few years ago.  He was talking about his Slow Horses series and he said he could never let the reader into the head of the main character, Jackson Lamb.  If he did we would know how much of his vulgarity, insults, racism, misogyny, etc. was real, and how much was put-on to annoy people.  So while we can get into the skulls of his other characters, Lamb must remain sphinxlike.  

I planned to end this there but I have been reading The Night the Rich Men Burned by Malcolm Mackay (what a title!) and he brings up a slightly different issue.  This Scottish author has a unique style.  I would guess that each of his books has almost twice as many words as another novel with similar page count, because there is almost no dialog.  Everything is happening, present tense,  in the heads of the characters.  If we learn that it is raining it is because a character notices it.

And he is quite casual about head-hopping, moving from one person's thoughts to another as easily as changing paragraphs.  Usually this would drive me mad but Mackay makes it work.  

So how do you feel about writers prying too closely into their characters' skulls?

Test the Best

This is my sixteenth review of the best short mysteries of the year. I am sure  the judges of Edgars, Derringers, etc. can relax since they can simply look here for all the greats (well, except for these and those.)  

If you mention this list, and I hope you do, please refer to it as something like "Robert Lopresti's best short mysteries of the year list at SleuthSayers," NOT as the "SleuthSayers' best of..." because my fellow bloggers are ruggedly independent and may well have opinions of my own.

There are 14 winners this year, down two from 2023. Ten are by men, 4 by women. The big winner is Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, with three stories. Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Down and Out Books, and White City Press each scored 2. One author has two stories in my list, which has only happened three times before. Five stories are by my fellow SleuthSayers.

Okay. Let's get down in the dirt.

Binney, Robert J. "Restoration Software,"  in The Killing Rain, edited by Jim Thomsen, Down and Out Books, 2024.

 

This is the story of a Seattle private eye, not exactly a  native to the city, but one who has been kicking (ahem) around the northwest for a long time.  "He might be an eight-foot-tall mythological savage covered in mottled, tangled fur, but he was no dummy."   Yup. Sasquatch, P.I.

 Chase, Joslyn. "Mall Cop Christmas Parade,"  in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, January/February  2024.

'Tis the merry season in California and Bradford Hines has a ticket to get back to his family in Maryland.  But he's in a busy mall and before he can grab that plane he wants to grab a wallet out of a man's jacket.  That part's easy, but Brad is not as  smooth a pickpocket as he thinks and a female security guard catches him in the act.  Or is that what happens? 

 Cody, Liza, "Don't Push Me,"  in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, July/August 2024.

This is Cody' fourth appearance in my best of the year list. Debby "Basher" Belker is a squaddy - a British soldier.  She has seen a lot of combat overseas but this story takes place in England and the trouble starts when she sees a man beating a small boy. True to her reputation,  she hits first and asks questions after.  Turns out the boy  is a thief, but the man is selling counterfeit goods.  The police have no interest in prosecuting him but Belker takes advantage of a possibility that does not exist in the United  States: She organizes a private prosecution. The crook's bosses object...

D'Agnese, Joseph S. "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bled,"  in Murder, Neat: A SleuthSayers Anthology, edited by Michael Bracken and Barb Goffman, Level Short, 2024.

I have a story in this book. Joe is a fellow SleuthSayer.

It's Greenwich Village in 1859 and eccentric people flock to Pfaff's a German-owned tavern.  When a theatre critic is murdered there  poet and regular Walt Whitman decides to solve the crime before the police find out what goes on there and shuts the joint down.

Floyd, John M.  "Hole in my Soul,"  in Janie's Got a Gun: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Music of Aerosmith, edited by Michael Bracken, White City Press, 2024.

Hard to believe this is SleuthSayer Floyd's first mention on this list. 

The narrator  saves a child from dying in a horrible accident. Then he walks off down the street with something on his mind.  The fun part is finding out what.

Hannah, James D.F. "Do You See the Light?"  in Lost and Loaded: A Gun's Tale, edited by Colin Conway, Original Ink Press, 2024.

I have a story in this book. 

John owns a record shop, selling vintage discs to fanatical collectors.  His friend Danny makes his living as a clown at children's parties, which doesn't really match his personality: "You oughta be able hunt five-year-olds for sport." They suspect a very valuable album (five figures!) might be in a wealthy home in town, and decide to try a short career as burglars. It doesn't go well.

Mallory, Michael. "Who Wants to Kill Someone?" , in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine,  January/February 2024. 

Michael is our newest SleuthSayer. and this is his second hit on my list. 

Bruce  signs up for a hit TV show called Who Wants to Kill Someone?  The cast is flown to a Central American country and one member is assigned the role of murderer and is then actually expected to kill a fellow performer.    Bruce is given the role of murderer and learns that  not everyone is who they appear to be and the actual plot of the show is different than it seems - but no less dangerous.  

O'Connor, Paul Ryan. "No One Will Believe You,"  in Mystery Magazine, March 2024.

Ayden is a dishwasher at a restaurant in the South Bronx, sharing  an apartment with four people ( he gets the couch).  His troubles really begin when he gets mugged at gun point by the most famous actor in the world,

“You can’t get away with this,” Ayden said . “You’re a movie star . I know who you are . Everyone knows who you are .”

“No one will believe you,” Ted Pace said...

Pochoda, Ivy.  "Johnny Christmas,"  in Eight Very Bad Nights: A Collection of Hanukkah Noir, edited by Tod Goldberg, Soho Crime, 2024.

The narrator, Davo, recently got out of the army and decides to get a tattoo.  He gets linked up to an artist named Johnny Christmas and immediately recognizes him as Mike Goldfarb, who he had known many years before at the Brooklyn House of Detention. Goldfarb was awaiting trial for running over his grandmother's landlord. Twice.    A nice character study.

Rusch, Kristine Kathryn, "The Bride Case,"  in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, September/October 2024.

This is Rusch's fourth appearance on the list. The narrator  is an attorney, on his way to an important homicide case, but  he  looks in on a colleague  trying her first divorce case.  Something goes wrong, life-changingly wrong, and the story shifts.  Later it changes again and we get to what the story is really about, as the narrator has to really think about his relationship with the law.

Troy, Mark, "The Car Hank Died In,"  in Tales of Music, Murder, and Mayhem: Bouchercon Anthology 2024, edited by Heather Graham, Down and Out Books, 2024.

Two horny teenagers decide the perfect place to fool around is the backseat of an old Cadillac.  Couple of problems with that: 1. The driver is about to take it out for gas.  2. This isn't just any old Caddy; it's the one where Hank Williams took his last breath and is used in parades on holidays, such as the next day.  Next problem: a cowboy with a gun and bad intentions.

Walker, Joseph S. "Come On Eileen," in (I Just) Died in Your Arms, edited by J. Alan Hartman, White City Press, 2024.

Fouth story on this list by my fellow SleuthSayer,

 Liam Walsh grew up in a neighborhood called Little Dublin, ruled over by Patrick Flynn.  His father worked for Flynn, and Liam adored Flynn's daughter, Eileen. At an off-to-college party for Eileen, Flynn shot Liam's parents, killing his mother and crippling his father. Years later Liam finds out what really happened...

Walker, Joseph S. "And Now, an Inspiring Story of Tragedy Overcome,"  in Three Strikes -- You're Dead!, edited by Donna  Andrews, Barb Goffman, and Marcia Talley, Wildside Press, 2024. 

And here is greedy Joe back with a fifth story.   That ties him with David Dean for the most ever (so far). 

Lonnie Walsh is a second generation mobster.  His sister dies giving birth to the daughter of Brant, her  worthless  husband.  Lonnie has to watch over little Kayla while trying to keep idiot Brant out of trouble. Things get more complicated when Kayla has the potential to be  a world-class figure skater, if her family's reputation doesn't interfere.

 

Wiebe, Sam, "The Barguzin Sable,"  in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, March/April, 2024.

David Wakeland is a Vancouver P.I. At his mother's request he investigates the home invasion of a neighbor that included her murder and the theft of her precious fur coat, a relic that came over from Russia a century before.  It turns out that  the sable means many things to different people.  As one character says "You can't expect common sense from folks who wear weasel."

By the way, in the last month several SleuthSayers have presentied in this space  a review of their year's work.  I actually put mine up on a different site.  Feel free to take a peek.