A Good Book

I love a mystery. A puzzle. A whodunit. Something that I can work along the lines with the author, trying to figure out who, what, where and most important, why. Challenge. But I want believable characters with common sense in settings I can visualize as everyday even if the story is set in Victorian times. Wealthy or not doesn’t make a difference. Gory details of a demented mind are not necessary to tell me when a body is dead. The author can state the weapon of choice but I don’t need a picture drawn for me. I can do that in my own imagination.

If I see the plot line and know the perpetrator of dark deeds early on, the joy is slain. No sense in finishing the story…unless it is a red herring with an unexpected twist. Ahh. The plot thickens.

Further, we are so fortunate to have more women writing novels of all genres today. This happening has all but eliminated the ‘dumb female’ character in stories. I used to choke on that depiction of a woman character, one who was running a household or holding down an intelligent job being portrayed as stupid. Ugh.

Of course even really good interesting mysteries aren’t always remembered. The authors are, particularly when they write many books and I can look for them by the author's name. The pleasure is simply in reading them. But the novels of the originator of the mystery novels Wilkie Collins and present-day novelist Sharyn McCrumb’s stories I remember. And also, of course, Agatha Christie’s.