"It's a Wonderful Rat-Race," by James Powell, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, November 2014.
I guess it makes a sort of sense that when my friend James Powell writes about madness the result is slightly less crazy than his usual work. His usual tale contains a free-association of bizarre connections, like a garden sprinkler shooting water in all directions. This one is more tightly focused (although he does offer some odd riffs on human conception and the well-known Jimmy Stewart movie).
Obsession is either comic or tragic, depending on how close you stand to the fallout. Hilda Ross is a neatnik. She is delighted when her grown children move away because she can finally get wall-to-wall white carpeting. And she loves her house and her less fastidious neighbor, because "to really succeed neatness-wise you needed a messy best friend."
But one day that friend's husband casually releases a piece of folk wisdom that turns Hilda's life upside down, turning good into bad, light into dark, and-- Well, you have to read it.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Crossing the River Styx, by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
"Crossing the River Styx," by Kristine Kathryn Rusch, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, November 2014.
They'd left, all of them. They'd left, taking the light with them. Now Edith huddled in the darkest place she'd ever been in, her face, hands, and shirtwaist soaked with blood. Frank was dead beside her. She'd known that from the moment the shot hit him. Hot blood spurted out of him, coating her, and he made all kinds of groaning sounds.
Someone shouted, "Murder!" and the others ran as if their lives depended on it...
Well. That's an exciting way to start a story, isn't it?
The illustration clued me in to the fact that this takes place in the 1920s, which made me think we were in a Bonnie-and-Clyde scenario, but not quite. Edith is a proper young woman on her honeymoon and Frank has taken her to the Oregon Caves. That's where the extreme darkness comes in.
Now Edith has to find a way out of the cave by herself (crossing a creek known as, yes River Styx) and figure out whether she is in danger from the men who fought with her husband.
The other key viewpoint character is Albert, a mechanic employed by the Forest Service that runs the caves. They will both learn something about themselves before the night is over.
As usual, a very good story from Ms. Rusch.
They'd left, all of them. They'd left, taking the light with them. Now Edith huddled in the darkest place she'd ever been in, her face, hands, and shirtwaist soaked with blood. Frank was dead beside her. She'd known that from the moment the shot hit him. Hot blood spurted out of him, coating her, and he made all kinds of groaning sounds.
Someone shouted, "Murder!" and the others ran as if their lives depended on it...
Well. That's an exciting way to start a story, isn't it?
The illustration clued me in to the fact that this takes place in the 1920s, which made me think we were in a Bonnie-and-Clyde scenario, but not quite. Edith is a proper young woman on her honeymoon and Frank has taken her to the Oregon Caves. That's where the extreme darkness comes in.
Now Edith has to find a way out of the cave by herself (crossing a creek known as, yes River Styx) and figure out whether she is in danger from the men who fought with her husband.
The other key viewpoint character is Albert, a mechanic employed by the Forest Service that runs the caves. They will both learn something about themselves before the night is over.
As usual, a very good story from Ms. Rusch.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Jaguar, by Joesph Wallace
"Jaguar," by Joseph Wallace, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, September/October 2014.
I will be writing about the structure of this story on Wednesday at Sleuthsayers. Book your tickets now.
Plotwise, this is the story of Ana, who is a rainforest tour guide in Belize. She meets a wealthy American tourist who may be able to get her out of a bad home situation. But there is more going on than appears at first. And since the story alternates between Belize and New York City (that structure thing I mentioned) you get to see cause and effect scrambled together very nicely.
I will be writing about the structure of this story on Wednesday at Sleuthsayers. Book your tickets now.
Plotwise, this is the story of Ana, who is a rainforest tour guide in Belize. She meets a wealthy American tourist who may be able to get her out of a bad home situation. But there is more going on than appears at first. And since the story alternates between Belize and New York City (that structure thing I mentioned) you get to see cause and effect scrambled together very nicely.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Inspector Zhang Gets His Wish, by Stephen Leather
"Inspector Zhang Gets His Wish," by Stephen Leather, on Crime City Central, episode 106.
Technically this is the best story I heard last week. I have been enjoying Crime City Central ever since they created a podcast of one of my own stories. And I have read a few of Mr. Leather's novels. but this is my first exposure to his short stories.
And a good one it is, with a bit of a split personality. It is set in Singapore, the "city without crime." An American tourist has been murdered in a hotel and Inspector Zhang calmly works his way through the investigation.
But the whole tone changes when our heroes realizes, with delight, that this is what he has been waiting for his entire career for: a locked room mystery. He becomes more eccentric as he lectures his suspects and fellow officers on John Dickson Carr's famous seven types of locked room murders. And inevitably he comes up with a fair solution that the reader should have seen coming. You won't, of course. But that's part of the fun.
Technically this is the best story I heard last week. I have been enjoying Crime City Central ever since they created a podcast of one of my own stories. And I have read a few of Mr. Leather's novels. but this is my first exposure to his short stories.
And a good one it is, with a bit of a split personality. It is set in Singapore, the "city without crime." An American tourist has been murdered in a hotel and Inspector Zhang calmly works his way through the investigation.
But the whole tone changes when our heroes realizes, with delight, that this is what he has been waiting for his entire career for: a locked room mystery. He becomes more eccentric as he lectures his suspects and fellow officers on John Dickson Carr's famous seven types of locked room murders. And inevitably he comes up with a fair solution that the reader should have seen coming. You won't, of course. But that's part of the fun.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Pussycat, Pussycat, by Stephen Ross
"Pussycat, Pussycat," by Stephen Ross, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, September/October 2014.
My fellow SleuthSayers blogger, Stephen Ross, lives in New Zealand, but his latest story is set firmly in the England of the early 1960s.
The narrator is a hardware salesman. Don't think hammers and nails. We're talking about weaponry here. And Pussycat, one of his good friends, announces he wants to buy a rifle. He plans to shoot a pumpkin. Well, that's harmless enough, except he wants to hide in a tree and shoot at the pumpkin when it is on a stick ten feet off the ground.
"It seems to me," I remark, "that your pumpkin had the size and shape of a human head. Are you planning to shoot somebody?"
Pussycat doesn't answer. But he does remark later that he hates the Beatles. "They're what's wrong with this miserable country."
Is he planning to kill a Beatle? Or is something else going on?
I should say I guessed the punchline, so to speak. I think anyone who shares certain characteristics with me would.
My fellow SleuthSayers blogger, Stephen Ross, lives in New Zealand, but his latest story is set firmly in the England of the early 1960s.
The narrator is a hardware salesman. Don't think hammers and nails. We're talking about weaponry here. And Pussycat, one of his good friends, announces he wants to buy a rifle. He plans to shoot a pumpkin. Well, that's harmless enough, except he wants to hide in a tree and shoot at the pumpkin when it is on a stick ten feet off the ground.
"It seems to me," I remark, "that your pumpkin had the size and shape of a human head. Are you planning to shoot somebody?"
Pussycat doesn't answer. But he does remark later that he hates the Beatles. "They're what's wrong with this miserable country."
Is he planning to kill a Beatle? Or is something else going on?
I should say I guessed the punchline, so to speak. I think anyone who shares certain characteristics with me would.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Francetta Repays Her Debt To Society, by Susan Oleksiw
"Francetta Repays Her Debt To Society," by Susan Oleksiw, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, October 2014.
I thought long and hard before choosing a story for this week. I find this one problematic, as I will explain, but it reached the top of the pile.
As the story opens Francetta is getting out of prison after six months. We see her dealing with some people, one way or another, and making some, shall we say, life choices.
Oleksiw has decided, in this story at least, that less is more. She tells you as little as she can and makes you work out the rest.
For example, a friend gives Francetta some prescription drugs. She then walks out of the building and a policeman promptly searches her, finding nothing. "Something missing, Officer?"
From this we know: 1) the friend was no friend, 2) at least some of the cops in this town are on the take, and 3) Francetta already knew 1) and 2) and ditched the drugs accordingly.
But none of that is stated in the story. You have to figure it out, and that can be problematic. There is a scene near the end where I am still not sure how many characters were present. But it is a good story, with a satisfying ending.
I thought long and hard before choosing a story for this week. I find this one problematic, as I will explain, but it reached the top of the pile.
As the story opens Francetta is getting out of prison after six months. We see her dealing with some people, one way or another, and making some, shall we say, life choices.
Oleksiw has decided, in this story at least, that less is more. She tells you as little as she can and makes you work out the rest.
For example, a friend gives Francetta some prescription drugs. She then walks out of the building and a policeman promptly searches her, finding nothing. "Something missing, Officer?"
From this we know: 1) the friend was no friend, 2) at least some of the cops in this town are on the take, and 3) Francetta already knew 1) and 2) and ditched the drugs accordingly.
But none of that is stated in the story. You have to figure it out, and that can be problematic. There is a scene near the end where I am still not sure how many characters were present. But it is a good story, with a satisfying ending.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
An Open-and Shut Case, by Brian Tobin
"An Open-and Shut Case," by Brian Tobin, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, October 2014.
Hmm... What to say about this one?
Usually when I don't want to say much it is because 1) the story is very short, or 2) there is a twist ending I don't want to give away.
Neither is true in this case. In fact, the problem is that this story does not twist. It is a straight line from the beginning to the end. What makes it stand out is that the hero (and the author) has the nerve to make this plan and carry it out.
When the story begins Sheriff Maloney is looking at the corpse of Curtis Frye, dead in the doorway of his own house. Frye was bad news, a meth-head who killed a woman for thirty bucks. He was tried for the crime three times but most of the evidence had been kicked out on a technicality, resulting in three hung juries.
After getting the investigation started Mahoney gets in his car and makes a phone call:
"You owe me, Roy. This is me calling in my chit. Tonight, you cannot kill yourself."
This is the second time Tobin made my list this year. A dazzling story, right down to the sheriff's explanation of his actions at the very end.
Hmm... What to say about this one?
Usually when I don't want to say much it is because 1) the story is very short, or 2) there is a twist ending I don't want to give away.
Neither is true in this case. In fact, the problem is that this story does not twist. It is a straight line from the beginning to the end. What makes it stand out is that the hero (and the author) has the nerve to make this plan and carry it out.
When the story begins Sheriff Maloney is looking at the corpse of Curtis Frye, dead in the doorway of his own house. Frye was bad news, a meth-head who killed a woman for thirty bucks. He was tried for the crime three times but most of the evidence had been kicked out on a technicality, resulting in three hung juries.
After getting the investigation started Mahoney gets in his car and makes a phone call:
"You owe me, Roy. This is me calling in my chit. Tonight, you cannot kill yourself."
This is the second time Tobin made my list this year. A dazzling story, right down to the sheriff's explanation of his actions at the very end.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Wildcraft, by Ellen Larson
"Wildcraft," by Ellen Larson, in M: Mystery and Horror, May 2014.
I always warn you if there is a factor outside of a story's own merits that could cause me to favor it. Usually that means the author is a friend or blogmate of mine. In this case the reason for full disclosure is somewhat different: Ms. Larson, who I don't know, sent me a copy of this magazine's first issue.
But I definitely enjoyed her story the most of any I read this week, which is the rule for this column. This is a story about a police chief investigating a crime, which is no surprise, but the crime is unusual and so is the investigation.
Someone has shot a deer a day before the season opens. That's illegal but what outrages the chief is that the poacher, not having made a clean kill, allows the deer to limp away to die in misery. And so, rather than hunting the bad guy, our hero goes off in search of the victim, to finish the job as mercifully as possible. Along the way he ponders all his suspects and figures out who the shooter must be. It's a clever approach.
I do have a caveat. A few weeks ago in this space I wrote about dialect, and how less is more. One of Larson's characters talks like this: "I sayed I was trackin' 'im. I didn't say I'd shot him! Like yuz, I heard the shot is all." That is more dialect than I, for one, need.
Best of luck to thenew magazine.
I always warn you if there is a factor outside of a story's own merits that could cause me to favor it. Usually that means the author is a friend or blogmate of mine. In this case the reason for full disclosure is somewhat different: Ms. Larson, who I don't know, sent me a copy of this magazine's first issue.
But I definitely enjoyed her story the most of any I read this week, which is the rule for this column. This is a story about a police chief investigating a crime, which is no surprise, but the crime is unusual and so is the investigation.
Someone has shot a deer a day before the season opens. That's illegal but what outrages the chief is that the poacher, not having made a clean kill, allows the deer to limp away to die in misery. And so, rather than hunting the bad guy, our hero goes off in search of the victim, to finish the job as mercifully as possible. Along the way he ponders all his suspects and figures out who the shooter must be. It's a clever approach.
I do have a caveat. A few weeks ago in this space I wrote about dialect, and how less is more. One of Larson's characters talks like this: "I sayed I was trackin' 'im. I didn't say I'd shot him! Like yuz, I heard the shot is all." That is more dialect than I, for one, need.
Best of luck to thenew magazine.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Rough Justice / Tender Mercies, by Leonhard August
"Rough Justice / Tender Mercies," by Leonhard August, in Death and the Detective, edited by Jess Faraday, Elm Books, 2014.
This story has an interesting structure. The real action takes place on one day, and ends with an act of violence, but the narrative begins after that is over. Then it runs back to tell us the background of the narrator and his friend Earl. The story is a quarter over before the action begins. And after we reach the climax it goes on for almost another quarter, ending up where it started.
Sounds complicated, but I don't think you could have made this story work any other way.
The main characters are Shadow Wolves, members of the Tohono O'odham tribe working as border agents for Homeland Security. The main action concerns the discovery that one of their confidential informers, a woman working with a very dangerous group of Mexican smugglers, has been found dead.
But don't assume you know where the plot is going. The actual direction is hidden in the background August has so carefully laid out for you.
This story has an interesting structure. The real action takes place on one day, and ends with an act of violence, but the narrative begins after that is over. Then it runs back to tell us the background of the narrator and his friend Earl. The story is a quarter over before the action begins. And after we reach the climax it goes on for almost another quarter, ending up where it started.
Sounds complicated, but I don't think you could have made this story work any other way.
The main characters are Shadow Wolves, members of the Tohono O'odham tribe working as border agents for Homeland Security. The main action concerns the discovery that one of their confidential informers, a woman working with a very dangerous group of Mexican smugglers, has been found dead.
But don't assume you know where the plot is going. The actual direction is hidden in the background August has so carefully laid out for you.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Murder on Orchard Road, by Nury Vittachi
"Murder on Orchard Road," by Nury Vittachi, in Singapore Noir, edited by Cheryl Lu-Tien Tan, Akashic Press, 2014.
The term "political correctness" or PC has become an epithet. It is seen as a form of censorship or advocacy of wimpiness.
Wasn't always that way. As I recall someone asked the folksinger Fred Small if he was ever "not PC." He replied "Do you mean am I ever intentionally rude?"
I bring this up because most of the stories in Singapore Noir use dialect, by which I mean attempting to indicate on the page the non-standard language and pronunciation of the characters. Dialect has been out of favor for a long time, for a lot of good reasons: it can be amazingly annoying to read and, it can seem insulting to the people whose language is being mimicked.
On the other hand, a lot of the people in these stories set in Singapore are not going to speak like they went to Harvard or Oxford. What's an author to do?
The usual thinking these days is that less is more. Put in just enough dialect to indicate the speech patterns, without driving the ready crazy. (By the way, if you want to hear my attempt at a dialect story, here is a free podcast.)
Mr. Vittachi's is about an older Chinese may named C.F. Wong. And here is one of his longer speeches: "Slow race no good. Makes bad TV. Sponsors very angry. Race organizer very angry."
Gives you a sense of how Wong speaks. Whether it accurately reflects Chinese speech in Singapore is beyond me.
And I suppose that tells you a bit of what the story is about. But there is more. Here is the opening:
His New Year's resolution was to give up murders. Murders were horrible, messy, smelly, difficult, heart-rending things. And not nearly as profitable as they used to be.
Mr. Wong is a feng shui master and his specialty has been spiritually cleansing murder scenes. But today he hopes to only deal with a car race (which as you see above, seems to be going wrong). And then there is the case of the food taster accused of poisoning his clients...
Not noir, but entertaining.
The term "political correctness" or PC has become an epithet. It is seen as a form of censorship or advocacy of wimpiness.
Wasn't always that way. As I recall someone asked the folksinger Fred Small if he was ever "not PC." He replied "Do you mean am I ever intentionally rude?"
I bring this up because most of the stories in Singapore Noir use dialect, by which I mean attempting to indicate on the page the non-standard language and pronunciation of the characters. Dialect has been out of favor for a long time, for a lot of good reasons: it can be amazingly annoying to read and, it can seem insulting to the people whose language is being mimicked.
On the other hand, a lot of the people in these stories set in Singapore are not going to speak like they went to Harvard or Oxford. What's an author to do?
The usual thinking these days is that less is more. Put in just enough dialect to indicate the speech patterns, without driving the ready crazy. (By the way, if you want to hear my attempt at a dialect story, here is a free podcast.)
Mr. Vittachi's is about an older Chinese may named C.F. Wong. And here is one of his longer speeches: "Slow race no good. Makes bad TV. Sponsors very angry. Race organizer very angry."
Gives you a sense of how Wong speaks. Whether it accurately reflects Chinese speech in Singapore is beyond me.
And I suppose that tells you a bit of what the story is about. But there is more. Here is the opening:
His New Year's resolution was to give up murders. Murders were horrible, messy, smelly, difficult, heart-rending things. And not nearly as profitable as they used to be.
Mr. Wong is a feng shui master and his specialty has been spiritually cleansing murder scenes. But today he hopes to only deal with a car race (which as you see above, seems to be going wrong). And then there is the case of the food taster accused of poisoning his clients...
Not noir, but entertaining.
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