Mystery: March 14, 2012 Issue [#4936] |
Mystery
This week: Enduring Mysteries Edited by: Jeff More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."
-- Carl Sagan
Random Mystery Trivia of the Week: In addition to having more than 16 million copies of her books in print and having a name practically custom-tailored for a crime writer, Karin Slaughter is widely credited with coining the term "investigoogling." Additionally, although her stories are typically set where she was born and raised (the U.S. state of Georgia), her books have been translated into more than 30 languages and have debuted at #1 on book sales lists in the UK, Netherlands, Germany, and Australia.
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ENDURING MYSTERIES
What makes a mystery endure for weeks, years, or even decades? Where is Amelia Earhart? What were the real identities of Jack the Ripper and The Zodiac Killer? Who shot JFK? What happened to Jimmy Hoffa? There are literally hundreds of mysteries from past eras that continue to confound us and spur endless conjecture about what really happened. Is it simply the result of these mysteries being unsolved? If that's the case, why aren't all unsolved mysteries cause for continued public speculation about what really happened?
My not-at-all-scientific theory is that, in order for a mystery to endure, it must contain the following three elements:
UNSOLVED OR UNCERTAIN RESOLUTION. While it may seem like an obvious statement that a mystery needs to remain mysterious in order to endure, that doesn't always mean that the mystery has to remain unsolved. OJ Simpson was acquitted of murdering his wife... but there are still people who believe that we don't know the whole truth. And so, while a mystery remaining unsolved is a great way to keep the mystique in a situation, any source of enigma or uncertain resolution can fulfill this requirement.
FAME. The people in question need to be famous. Sometimes the crime itself can make someone famous (like Casey Anthony or Lizzie Borden), but without a degree of fame or infamy, a mystery is likely to lose interest over the years. That's not to say that the missing daughter of Average Joe or the unsolved murder of Average Jane's husband are any less tragic... but in order for them to endure in the public consciousness, there has to be a certain degree of fame or infamy surrounding the mystery.
MULTIPLE THEORIES OF THE CRIME. Along the same lines as Unsolved or Uncertain Resolution, there needs to be room for different kinds of theories and conjecture about what happened, how it happened, or who is responsible. The murders of Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. have long been theorized to be the result of a feud between East Coast and West Coast rap factions. Without that underlying narrative, each death would still be tragic, but may not have nearly the longevity and amount of speculation surrounding them.
There are a great many mysterious crimes that take place every day. Some of them are solved quickly, others solved after a great deal of investigation, and still others remain unsolved. And of those that remain unsolved, some are forever subject to debate, discussion, and conjecture. If you're looking for a way to incorporate one of these enduring mysteries into your own writing, consider the fact that you need to make sure it's memorable and famous, remains unsolved, and has multiple theories or solutions that your audience can mull over.
Until next time,
-- Jeff
QUESTION OF THE WEEK: What enduring mystery most interests you?
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This week, I would encourage you to check out the following mystery items:
The beeping continued until Bethany could no longer ignore it. She groaned and slammed her fist against the alarm clock. She sat up and rubbed her eyes before blinking the sleep away. She slid out of her bed, feeling her duvet slide off her bare arms. Her arms were thinner and whiter than paper, and seemed liable to break without warning. She abandoned her pajamas and pulled on jeans and a green sweater. Her hair—only a fraction of a shade darker than her skin—hung limply at her shoulders until she pulled her brush through the tangles.
The dreary day had me cold and melancholy. My street was drenched in rain, the cobbles shining with water. Gray clouds settled close to the tops of buildings while wind and rain scoured windows and facades. Yet, sun or no I could not stay put in my rooms. The colorless light depressed me; I needed exposure to open air. I pulled my coat from the armoire and shrugged into it, grabbed my hat and left my rooms for the street. I raised my collar against the drizzle and turned toward eighth street and my friend Enzo Parini’s Antique shop.
The young man looked out over the city from the cliff, watching the billowing clouds of smoke pour out of the factories as if they were breathing beings of metal. The city itself was mainly one massive factory, save for a small north wing, where the people who were fortunate enough to have a job lived. Other people who were not so fortunate lined the streets, heads down and waiting for death to pluck them from this miserable life. No longer human beings, they were simply devoid of all signs of life that a normal person should have - happiness, love, a smile. Nothing more than souls that were confined in cages, awaiting their time to be freed. Such was the modern day that the people find themselves trapped in.
Brilliant golden rays of late afternoon sun filtering through the window made rainbow patterns on the table and easily drew my attention away from the drone of the meeting going on around me. Outside, individual leaves shimmered on the trees, alternately turning shiny then dull sides towards the sun in the stiffening sea breeze. This was no tender zephyr but instead a precursor to a storm. The dark, distant clouds reminded me of the summer thunderstorms of my childhood. They began, like these, with an ominous, sultry thickness in the air, rising wind and clouds clustered in the sky like black mountain ranges ready to unleash torrents and thunder and tear the sky with flashes of blinding white. These days though, the clouds passed harmlessly overhead, without the rush of cleansing rain. The rising winds were full of false hope. This was after all South Florida in the time of drought.
I stared at myself in the mirror, contemplating my decision. If I did this, would it make me a monster? A murderer? Or a little girl finding some way to fight back. When you’re trapped, with no way out, you do anything you can to escape, right? You do whatever it takes. I continued to stare myself down, maybe hoping a better answer would suddenly strike me, while my thoughts attacked each other. I noticed the dark purple smudges under my eyes, and the strange translucent colour of my face. The bones were starting to stick out where my cheeks had hollowed. My hair was dead-looking, like old straw. I rolled my sleeves up, wincing as they touched the skin. My arms were so purple you’d think you were looking at a soggy plum if you inspected them closely. I remembered a time when my hair was golden in the sun, when I laughed myself through a day, when I knew that nothing would happen to me. Sometimes I think it isn’t worth being intelligent. It only means that I’m clever enough to know what will happen to me… in the end. I don’t have the advantage of youthful naivety. I don’t pretend to be scared, I’m not, but I am determined. I’m determined that if I die, everyone will know why, and that he won’t get away with it.
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In response to my last newsletter on different types of (the question was regarding favorite holiday mysteries):
You are GUILTY of penning the most awsome newsletter in the site's history. -- dcb666
That's very kind of you to say. Thank you.
Let's see, the most appealing? Private Eye. I've always loved the gumshoe character - so many possibilities and you can choose your cases. Least appealing would be a police officer. The mundane day-to-day dealings just seem so boring and tedious. Plus the pay is terrible for such a dangerous job. What would your choices be? Fair is fair - spill it! -- Brooke
I think I'd want to be a private investigator too... I'm not sure I'd want to put my life in danger every day like a police officer, bounty hunter, or a U.S. Marshal, and I don't know nearly enough about computers or science to be a skiptracer or CSI. I guess that only leaves one option left, but I think solving mysteries (not always murders) and choosing clients would be the way to go.
Most embarrassing thing for a police officer is to find out that your sibling is a criminal you're pursuing. The most embarrassing thing for a criminal is to find out that your sibling is the police officer pursuing you. Worse than that- It's your Twin. Even worse than that, your twin's been framed and you need to clear his name. -- BIG BAD WOLF is Merry
Yes, that would be a pretty bad situation!
Great Newsletter, SoCal Sribe! Care to do one on Canadian Law Enforcement ? I think a job with CSI would be most appealing, a Bounty Hunter least - you'd need to have six different black belts for that one !Looking forward to your next Newsletter ! -- dejavu_BIG computerprobs
Admittedly I don't know much about Canadian law enforcement, except for the RCMP. Perhaps a topic for the future! |
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