Robot Noir

Lesson 1 I’m learning about a mystery: I need to have everything planned out first. I have a tendency to just jump into a story and figure it out as I go (which explains my aborted attempts at NaNo 😉 ), but that won’t work with this. You can’t really start sprinkling clues in there without having a clear idea of what your detective is going to need.

Still, I have a very rough start. And here it is. Hardboiled crime stories tend to be quick with description and light on narration, so I’m fighting my natural tendencies to go overboard with the visuals. I think I’m pretty good with dialogue, so the speech-heavy aspect of mysteries will suit me well, I hope. The tricky part will be making the dialogue sound authentic to the time period.

Who knows how much of this will remain when I get more of the story plotted out.

No Title Yet!

With every flash of the photographer’s bulb, Everett Lehrer saw more of the victim. A white male in his fifties, dressed in overalls, sprawled on his back in a pool of blood. Broken shards of glass glittered like confetti on the sidewalk all around him. Twelve screwdrivers protruded from his chest. Detective Wesley stood a few feet away, tapping a cigarette on a silver cigarette case.

“So what do you think, Everett?”

Everett cast his gaze up the side of the office building. At the fifth floor, a patrolman leaned out through a gaping hole of a window. Everett stood and took the detective’s cigarette case to help himself.

“I think the fall killed him. Suicide. Case closed. Can I go back to bed?”

“Well I guess I can go home, then.” Detective Wesley stepped close, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Look, Everett, this has politics written all over it. Take a look upstairs for me, will ya? I don’t how long I have before my hands are tied.”

Everett brushed aside the officers at the door, who glared at the private detective with undisguised contempt. Everett had worn that blue monkey suit for a while, and he didn’t blame them.