Tuesday, November 26, 2013

How do I kill thee? Let me count the ways.

My wife becomes a bit distraught that I write about death.  Murder to be exact.  I sit at the key board, tapping keys and describing details of the gruesome demise of some poor soul, while pausing briefly to spoon ice cream into my mouth and contemplate the finer points. Not enough blood. The best location to drive the knife into the body.  A bullet to the head or heart. I wonder if we have any more Rock Road.

But the murder mystery is not about death, but solving a riddle. For most mysteries, the detective remains detached from the emotion of the death and focuses on finding the killer. And that is what makes the genre endearing—pitting intellect with the detective to discover to who-done-it.

And now back to killing someone…

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