 Mystery: October 13, 2010 Issue [#4016] |
  Mystery
This week: Halloween as a Theme for Murder Edited by: shaara
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3. Letter from the Editor
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5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions
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This week, I am delighted to be your Mystery Newsletter Editor. Where I'm going is not peaceful or pleasant, but if you write mysteries, you'll need to ponder
DEATH.
Because no matter what excuse you make for enjoying a good mystery,
the truth is that mystery stories are most often about
Someone dying by someone's hand.
++++++ MURDER.++++++
What is the vehicle we use to transport our readers into that scene?
How about the Halloween festivities at your local village center?
Who is the witch beside you?
Who is that tallish monk with the uplifted axe?
Why is the pumpkin grinning so broadly?
{Yes, that's right.)
Today I'm going to investigate:
Halloween As a Setting for Murder
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Editorial for the Mystery Newsletter -October 13, 2010
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Halloween As a Theme for Murder
Ah very juicy, filled with the nectar of nebulous notions, voluminous victims, and vultures that victimize -- all using brews that bring bereavement, knackers' knives, and the final finale:
the  +++Dust of Death. +++
Halloween has it all -- the mystery, the fear, and the plausible misdeeds, so why are there so few mysteries ABOUT Halloween?
Monk, a popular T.V. program about a detective gone paranoid schizophrenic, has an episode that deals with Halloween candy. Monk and his nursemaid scurry about trying to discover why a man dressed up as Frankenstein is stealing kids' candy. Is the man full of revenge because he never got any chocolate? Has dear Frankie flipped because he was bullied as a child? (Whoops, the real Frankie never was a child.) Has this Frankenstein murderer tripped back in time to when someone nabbed his Halloween bag of candy? Or is Frankenstein just a murderous cover-up?
Costumes are great for both hiding and provoking mindless fear. What a unique scene is set when pumpkins grin evilly and skeletons offer spindly fingers of entreaty. They seem to cry out:
come, come, come inside,
if you dare . . .
Thus, we enter Smalltown U.S.A.
Is that a poisonous spider dangling in the haunted house's creepy corners?
Is that misty witchly brew -- the drink of death?
What lies beneath that ghoul's advance. You cannot read his eyes - those red-streaked glaring eyes . . .
In Smalltown U.S.A., Halloween is rampant with mysteries --- however, take care for kids aren't the only ones wearing costumes to cover both face and form.
Who's the cashier handling your merchandise? What does his cheerful fireman's helmet conceal? Did you know he raises venomous snakes?
Who's that person at the gas station popping a fat wad of gum as he watches the T.V. camera, pretending to eye some car's gasoline tank? Why is his hand creeping beneath the counter? Does he keep something dangerously deadly beneath the shelves?
Journey on, if you're still alive, but I suggest you not munch on that taco you just purchased at the drive-through. The last customer is still moaning, his face a putrid green.
Ah, a town party. How quaint. Shall we stop to bob for apples? Those friendly little red jewels of sweetness. Of course it would be such fun to grab one -
Unless, one is straight out of Sleeping Beauty, all carefully contrived to deliver a swift packet of death -- the bite into eternal sleep.
Speaking of biting. The local vampire is on the prowl. His black cape sweeps the night as his eyes seek the one he would offer his gift of cold darkness. But it's Halloween time. Beware. That vampire's teeth might not pierce the throat of his victim, for he lacks the fangs to do it properly. There are other ways and means. A dagger sinks into skin just as easily as vampire fangs. (A screwdriver works in a pinch.) The vamp's eyes are glowing with an unearthly light as he scurries forward, searching, searching, searching . . .
Back at the town square, a pumpkin carving contest is in full swing. Most of the citizens are using flimsy pseudo-knives. But one woman's tool is formed of cold, hard steel, and it's sharp as the edge of a broken beer bottle.
One slip of the hand; the pumpkin doesn't even feel it, but her neighbor, the one who sneaked inside the woman's house the night before to do his unwelcome deed, it is his body that slips down into the sawdust. I wonder when the other folks will notice the man's overly large and ugly nose now jutting upward - without breath.
Pumpkin guts are forming a heap in the middle of the table as the evening breeze cools the day. Laughter soars as tiny knives pierce pumpkin skin. Jagged teeth, v-shaped noses. The sounds of happy people ebb and flow as a solitary fly alights to walk across the nose of the now dead neighbor. Happily, he is remains unaware.
Which is just as well, for that green-speckled fly carries a plague of nasties. It disembarks to buzz onward, its destination -- the town well.
Meanwhile the high school chemistry teacher chuckles evilly, rubbing his hands against his lab coat as he red-circles errors on the latest batch of chemistry tests. "That will teach the town," he whispers, glaring with maddened eyes as he scribbles "F" at the top of paper after paper.
Across the town a witch mounts her broomstick. She has no power to fly; her broom was purchased at the local hardware store, but it will serve her malevolent plan. Her husband has strayed again; this time will be his last. The witch cackles as she checks that her fingernails still ooze their deadly poison.
A visiting relative from Chicago checks the inner lining of his raincoat. Charlie is gowned in a mobster costume: black striped suit, shiny silk-gray shirt, and a tie of nonchalant elegance. He chuckles at the secret deliciousness of his garb. No one will suspect how apt his costume is -- at least not until he withdraws his brand new $15,000 Browning import, a small machine gun with the desirable slim flash hider. Bye-bye small town cousin and family.
In a house three doors down, a sweet little girl with eyes like two robin's eggs, braids of shiny gold, and a Maid Marianne costume, equipped with a quiver of genuine Woodsman Broadheads (arrows guaranteed to kill,) waits for her grandmother to finish getting ready. The child's dimples flash as she anticipates the evening's festivities, for Grandma and she are about to go trick-or-treating. Won't it be an enchanting giggle when they knock on their first door and shoot off all their arrows? Afterwards, Grandma has promised, Mommy won't ever use the strap on her legs again, and Daddy will no longer open her door and creep inside the moment darkness falls.
Shall we journey on? I think not, but the prowl of Death continues between, among, inside and outside the tiny houses of Smalltown, U.S.A.
For us, it the hour has come to creak the doorshut. Ignore the screams, the ragged snarls, the ghostly chains being dragging across the asphalt. Cover your nostrils with one hand so the stench of death does not dull your Halloween good spirits. Feel free to crunch an apple, scoop out the pumpkin guts (standing beside that neighbor you thought you knew well.)
But remember -- beneath the garb of a werewolf, polar bear, ballerina, or pirate one might find the soul of a murderer. At least, in fiction.
Write on my friends, write on . . .
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Featured Items for the Mystery Newsletter, October 13, 2010
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Do you ever get stuck and don't know where to begin? The following is a succulent idea just waiting for you to pick up and run with it. I hope you dive into the story and produce a tale that finds Mrs. Flaherty's cat. I'm very worried about where the poor feline has gone.
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#1670776 by Not Available. |
TAG LINE:
Mrs. Flaherty's friend, a grey Tabbie named "Flibby" has gone missing, and the entire hamlet goes on the hunt. With the help of Mr. Milo, the mailman, the hunt is on.
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This is an interesting piece that combines a vampire tale with a mystery detective. Rather intriguing concept, too!
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#1612378 by Not Available. |
The world is full of thieves, cheats, and scumbags. As a cop and now as a PI, Spam had dealt with his fair share of criminals and low lives, more than his share to be certain. He just didn't have the time or inclination to also mess with spooks, specters, and ghouls.
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Sometimes the hardest part is getting started. This piece sets the scene so vividly, I'd follow the author anywhere. The images are starkly personal. I hope this is the launch into her murder mystery. It deserves to go further in order to change this dismissal location.
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#1690053 by Not Available. |
Directly across the street from me, the sole familiar sight: two little girls laugh at their game of hopscotch. Those squares were drawn when I was young and diligently renewed by each summer generation. A palimpsest of innocence. I wonder if, to their eyes, this street seems normal, unremarkable.
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This tale makes me itch to expand. I want the story to unravel slowly, to feel the fear as the ghost haunts. Like the piece above, it has a real potential to launch itself into a full-force mystery. The elements for tension are there: the cover-up, the strangeness, the characters, ready to believe or disbelieve. What would happen if a murder occurred, and the ghost were the only witness? Halloween would be perfect day for it!
Gleeful laughter echoed throughout the store and the spectre of Gerald Thomas I materialized sitting cross-legged on top of a grandfather clock. A small man in an old-fashioned gray suit, he still possessed the curly gray hair, twinkling blue eyes, and impish grin that he had in life. "Oh come on, Jerry, don't be so serious!" he said. "You know I only break worthless junk that won't sell anyway!
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This is an amazing piece. It's not quite a comedy, although it almost is; the author's nosy character is so amazingly droll. It's not quite a mystery either - not until the end, at least. But read the story and you can't help wondering. The author has led us so adroitly into a puzzle. Where was the main character last night?
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She cut in. (That woman had excellent timing for that sort of thing.) "Well, now that I look at you, you really don't look very abused or neglected. However, I can see a glow in your face for sure. You must be cheating on him! Now hon, cheating is bad from either side. You can't try to fool someone like that. After all, he is your man and I think that's downright improper of you to string along the poor dear like that."
She paused for a breath so I jumped at the chance. "Actually I'm not cheating on anyone. I'm just trying to say that..."
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Inside this folder (of mine) is a piece called the "Haunted." It is the item I'd like to offer you today. It seems most appropriate for a Halloweeny mystery newsletter.
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#1469080 by Not Available. |
"It smells like arsenic," a policeman told me later, sniffing at my coffee. It was a good thing I hadn't drunk mine, he told me with suspicious eyes.
When they carted my husband away, the police took me in for questioning. Then they put me in a cell and locked me up for the night.
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Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter!
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Comments from the September Mystery Newsletter
A.T.B: It'sWhatWeDo 
I've always found gravity to be a fairly reliable means of dispatching a character. Unless your story is set in space...or a Discount Pillow Warehouse...or a Discount Pillow Warehouse in space - but even then, if you can't smother 'em in their sleep, just tear off that little tag that implies the firing squad for the perpetrator, leaving it conspicuously clutched in your sleeping victim's hand.
On a more serious note - utilizing one's own biochemistry against them works well for a particularly devious dispatcher.
For those with a serious enough allergy, a few killer bees in the bonnet would do the trick...though it might be difficult convincing one's nemesis to don said buzzing bonnet in this day and age. Best to hedge your bets and just bludgeon the victim to death with an underpriced pillow filled with killer bees.
Or just push 'em down the stairs. No need to be morbid, right?
*wink*
You're so funny! I really chuckled over your suggestions. You're the bees' knees of deadly demises. LOL Thanks for the suggestions. A pillow works. I should have included that!
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nishia
Hi Shaara
Great newsletter! I really laughed at your odd ball methods of demise. It did remind me though about the one I liked the most. Remember the book White Oleander where the woman brushes oleander tincture on a bottle of wine. She killed the guy with it, as his skin absorbed the poison. I thought that was a great way to get rid of someone and a little crazy too.
Thank you so much. I love to hear that I made someone laugh. Nothing makes me happier!
Oleander is deadly. I've heard that. Scary since in Southern California it's in many people's backyard!
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scribbler
In an older short story of mine (which has not been on writing.com for a while unfortunately) used an ingenious method for murder: antacids. The body naturally corrects it pH levels but if someone were sick enough to not properly regulate this and an angry wife wanted to kill her husband...all it would take is a couple weeks and a couple hundred bottles of Tums in his tea.
Antacids? Wow! I wonder if they'll soon begin making us show I.D. to buy a bottle of Tums. (In California we have to do so to buy cold medicine now. LOL)
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writetight
Ah, so many ways to kill! Nice primer on deliciously deadly dealings, Shaara. My most novel method of "snuffing out the flame" would have to be the sharp end of a T-bone steak bone piercing the victim's heart. Thanks for featuring | | | Invalid Item
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How horrible, you carnivore!
As to the inclusion of your piece --my pleasure since you're my favorite Writing.com author!
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Ben Garrick
Since I started reading when I was four years old, I've been a reader a lot longer than I've been a writer. And a pet peeve has always been that writers, too often, have absolutely no care regarding the technicalities they offer us. Since part of the attraction of a good mystery is that there's no necessity for a suspension of disbelief---we don't have to wave our arms and fly---the ignorant, or arrogant, misuse of technical bits detracts from the story. Don't have your police officer protagonist searching for ejected cartridge cases from a revolver; revolvers don't eject. Other examples abound. And thank you!
Ben
You're so right. We do have to research our tales. Since I know nothing about guns, that's my least favorite thing to write about. (Also, I worry that researching armament may send the CIA knocking at my door. LOL)
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BIG BAD WOLF is Howling 
suggest his
One mystery is how to make sure you don't anger your wife like this guy did. I wonder who has the answer to that?
I don't have that problem. LOL However, my suggestion is tell her you love her each and every day.
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BIG BAD WOLF is Howling
suggests his
Sometimes the most mysterious question is the Why. Who can find out why the Criminal did what he did?
That's not always possible, I'm afraid. So many of the killers just seem madder than the Hatter. Sigh.
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DB Cooper
I love theorizing why the murder took place but I dread figuring out how to off someone. Thanks!
Well, now you have some weird ways to "off" your characters. FOFL
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J. A. Buxton 
suggests her | | | Invalid Item
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#1354840 by Not Available. |
In Home of the Gray Dog, my latest novel, I had a 19th century Englishman torture and then murder women in some of the following ways:
01. Burned alive in a metal coffin
02. Locked in a pillory and left to starve to death
03. Tied to a wooden rack and limbs pulled out of their sockets
04. Applied the cruel device, Pear of Anguish, to various body openings.
There were more ways, but those were the most humane. The third novel in this trilogy, Home of the White Dolphin, is still in my portfolio.
You have made me almost speechless. I'll be hiding under my bed for the rest of the day.
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Shannon 
Excellent newsletter, Shaara, and what unique manners of death! I can't wait to dive into this week's featured stories. Thanks!
Thank you so much for your very welcome comments. I'm delighted you enjoyed the newsletter.
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andre1982
Hey Shaara!
I'm glad my odd little morbid thoughts got a chuckle - you really cracked me up with that newsletter, haha.
Thanks so much for including them in your next mystery NL! I'll look forward to it (as always!) on the 13th.
Grins,
Drew
Ah, chucks! Thank you, thank you! Too bad it's not FRIDAY the 13th!!!!
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For Next time, my question is:
How will you use Halloween as your mystery theme?
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