Moments In Crime

Farewell from Bouchercon

For those who didn't know, Bouchercon is an annual mystery fan convention held in different cities across the United States. Last year it was in Anchorage, Alaska. This year it was in Baltimore, Maryland. It's a place where those who love mysteries can gather and hear their favorite authors—or soon to be favorite authors—on panels and discussions. You can get books signed and even run into them in the corridors and bars for a chit chat, as well as get a look see at a pretty interesting town too boot.

 

This is my third Bouchercon. I went to my first ever before I was offered a contract. I went to my second when the ink was barely dry on that St. Martin's deal and got placed on a panel, but only had bookplates to sign and give away. This time…well. The book won't be released until October 28, so again, I still wouldn't have that book…or would I? One bookseller was lucky enough to obtain a small box of the fresh-off-the-press hardcovers. And so, after my panel, I had the extreme pleasure of actually signing my real life book for the first time. The bookseller sold them all (all right, they didn't have that many to begin with, but don't take the moment away!) It was wonderful meeting the people who wanted it, wanted to know this story and meet my characters. For me, this is a Bouchercon to remember and it makes a fitting conclusion to my week blogging on Moments in Crime. I've enjoyed it. I hope you have, too. Thank you, St. Martin's, for making these moments wonderful!

 

If you'd like to meet my hero Crispin Guest, you can read his thoughts on his very own blog www.CrispinGuest.com or read an excerpt from VEIL OF LIES on www.JeriWesterson.com. See you in the bookstores!   

Blades of Glory

If you have been reading my blog entries for the last week, you might have noticed my interest in medieval weaponry. One of the exemplar weapons of the period would have to be the broadsword. It is a weapon about 40 inches long and weighs about three pounds, with a sharpened edge on both sides. Not heavy, not unwieldy. It is a weapon used one-handed, though one can cup the pommel with the other hand to give it a bit of balance. Usually, though, your other hand is busy with a buckler (small shield—the buckling part of swash-buckling), or a dagger.

 

Most of us are familiar with sword-fighting through the movies. But most of this theatrical fighting is, shall we say, less than accurate. You want it to look good and exciting on film, but the reality is a lot different. What you see is men fighting with broad swords as if they were rapiers. A rapier can stab with accuracy. But broadsword fighting is more about chopping, not so much the lunging. There's a lot of starting and stopping, sort of a whack, whack, step back. Whack, whack, step back. (Remember, when you see sword-fighting on film or on stage, they are trying to hit the opponent's sword, not the opponent. In real physical combat, you darn well want to hit the other guy and hit them hard).

 

I wanted to know what it was like to feel a dagger blade or a sword blade sinking into flesh or glancing off bone, but as you can imagine, I didn't have any volunteers. So I did what any red-blooded American would do: I went to Costco and found the biggest slab of meat I could--with ribs--and nailed it to a post in my backyard. First, I took my dagger and stabbed the poor fellow repeatedly, just in the flesh and later near the bone. I wanted the experience of the shock of the blade, the feel of the grip and my hand against the guard as it sunk in.

 

That was one well-tenderized bit of meat when the dagger was through with it.

 

But then it was time for the sword!

 

The blade isn't very sharp on my sword. It can be, but it isn't. I thought it best not to have it sharpened when my son was in high school and had his other friends over. Any sort of blade is a boy magnet and my sword was hanging on the wall between the living room and dining room. They all wanted to play with it. (I never thought I'd hear myself say the words, "A sword is not a toy!").

 

That didn't stop my own little backyard CSI experiments, however. First, I tried my hand at pumpkin scalping. Though while it is true that my pumpkins don't have skulls inside them (that would be so cool, though, if they did!), it didn't take much for the swing of even a dull blade to lop off their scalps. But that was just my warm-up. It was time to give ye olde side of beef a shot.

 

Since a broadsword is mostly a chopping weapon (yes, you can stab with it, but it isn't it's main function. Indeed, you can grasp the blade with your free hand and have a focused jab into your opponent's helm, but it's better to chop) I was raring to go to smite it athwart.

 

Even with a dull blade, it cracked easily through the bone. Definitely a death blow.

 

The swing of the blade, the feel of the grip in my hand, the sounds of bone crunching, all informed what I later wrote about such mayhem.

 

And "the body" made quite a few good dinners afterwards. 

 

Villains

Villains. Holmes has his Moriarity; Bond has his Blofeld; Maxwell Smart has his Siegfried. For most of us, we don't have a nemesis (although I'm betting most of you can find *someone* in the office who can fit the bill).

But in the case of a mystery, there is a need for a villain or villains. He may be the murderer or the one who instigates the actions that lead the hero on his merry chase throughout the novel.

The word stems from old French, meaning a low rustic, a class of serfs. As early as the 1300's, this term could mean someone who would go out of their way to cause harm.

It's funny, but I can relate far more to the villain than I can with the hero. In my novel, VEIL OF LIES, Crispin Guest, the undoubted hero, has qualities of loyalty, bravery, and self-sacrifice. I can put myself in his shoes like any good actor studying a part, seeking motivation and digging deep enough to make Stanislavski proud. But I can much better identify with the villain.

I think most villains are narcissists. That is, they want what they want and they do their utmost to get it. I don't think this makes them necessarily evil, though they might perform evil deeds to satisfy that agenda. No, what sets off these persistent fellows, is the problem of the hero. They get in the way of the villain's fulfilling his role. And this lays the groundwork for what is to follow: murder, mayhem, and all manner of badness.

Let's face it, without the villain—whoever it may be—there is no story. They are the yin to the heroes' yang; the black to their white; the cold to their hot. Opposites. But perhaps what makes a more interesting villain—and a more interesting hero, for that matter—is when that line cannot be so easily drawn between the two.       

Why Medieval Noir?

Usually the first question I get asked about my debut mystery VEIL OF LIES; A Medieval Noir is, "why Medieval Noir?" Why not just a plain old-fashioned medieval mystery like Brother Cadfael?

And then the next question hard on the heels of the first is, "what the heck *is* Medieval Noir?"

This is my own little sub genre of medieval mystery. Instead of your monk or nun doing the investigating, we have a virile hero down on his luck who doesn't investigate crimes out of curiosity, but because he has to make a buck...er...pence.  (And for those of you wondering what "noir" is, the term is French meaning "black", but refers to film noir done in the German expressionist style of stark images and a storyline and visuals being very dark indeed. The idea was popularized first in the Hollywood films of the '40s and '50s, but its roots are in the hard-boiled crime fiction of the '30s and '40s).

It's medieval mystery with a twist. Darker, edgier, with hard-hitting action and characters with dirty little secrets. Then there's a little something dropped in the middle of murder: a religious relic with mystical powers. They always seem to stir things up, whether it's something everyone wants to get their hands on or can't wait to get rid of.

When I decided that I wanted to write a medieval mystery, I didn't want to write the Ellis Peters sort. After reading a few books in the genre, I decided what I really wanted to do was write something with my own unique take on it.

And I had three main influences: Dashiell Hammett and The Maltese Falcon, Raymond Chandler and The Big Sleep, and Errol Flynn.

The first two are understandable if one wanted to write a private eye novel. But Errol Flynn? Let me explain.

The more I thought about my character and the kind of story I wanted to convey, the more I realized that I didn't want to write a run-of-the-mill medieval mystery. I wanted to transplant a hard-boiled detective into the medieval setting. And then I wanted to take it down a notch and make it a bit darker and moodier, with a brooding detective ready to snap.

I had a jolly good time coming up with ways to translate that detective story into a medieval mystery. What made it work for me was The Maltese Falcon. Alfred Hitchcock is credited with coining the term "McGuffin", the thing everyone tries to get their hands on that propels the plot. In The Maltese Falcon it is, naturally enough, the falcon. And in my novels, it is a religious relic. There are femme fatales, there are bad guys, there is even the gruff sheriff, ready to blame the hero for the murder and mayhem. And there is also the McGuffin.

And then there is the hero. In this case it is Crispin Guest, a disgraced knight guilty of treason and set adrift in a rigidly defined society. He was once a man who had a title, lands, and the respect of his peers at court. But when he lost all that, he lost the thing that defined him. Though his life was spared, he was left with nothing but his wits and had to make his way on the mean streets of 14^th century of London, recreating himself as the Tracker, for sixpence a day...plus expenses.

So how does Errol Flynn come into it? I love old movies, and as a kid, one of the old movie stars I was particularly fond of was Errol Flynn. Maybe it was because he starred in a lot of historical adventures (like Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, Don Juan...). Or maybe it was because he was always doing a lot of sword-fighting and that was very exciting. Or maybe it was because he was a hunk! Whatever the appeal, I was a big fan of Errol Flynn movies, a preference that followed me into adulthood. And so naturally I embroil Crispin in situations where he gets to use his skills as both a lover and a fighter.

Crispin is a little Sam Spade, a little Philip Marlowe, and a little Errol Flynn, ready to swing into action, not afraid to pull a dagger or climb a roof or vault a wall. And did I mention the ladies? He's a sucker for a dame in trouble. And it's not always the best choice. 

An angst-ridden detective immersed in a world lit by candles and fueled by superstition. Daggers, swords, armor, knightly virtues crossed by murder. How could this not be fun to write?

 

Part Two of the Dark Hero's Journey

Yesterday, we started a discussion about the Hero's Journey, and saw the makings of this journey in my character Crispin Guest in the upcoming medieval noir, VEIL OF LIES. Is a hero a static creature?

A hero is changed by his experiences and by those he encounters along the way. If we take the example of Gone with the Wind, we can follow Scarlet on her quest to Get What She Wants. Her "call to adventure" begins with the war (although, it may be argued that it starts earlier with her quest to get Ashely). Slowly, the encroachment of the war begins to adversely affect Tara as well as Scarlet personally through the devastation of her family. Eventually, she must leave her place of safety and venture forth. During these trials (including a few marriages and losses) she seeks the advice of wise ones—Mammy and to some extent, Melanie, the conscience of the piece. She acquires tools from them to achieve her goals and finally obtains her "special powers" of money and influence. But when all of that proves futile to her happiness, she returns to the mundane of Tara to use what she has learned to make her life a better one.

Let's take Lord Peter, too, since we already brought him up. He, like Scarlet and Crispin, began with privilege but was also changed by a war. This put him on his quest to do more with his life than simply spend his family money. Bunter becomes the wise one who often supplies him with the tools he needs to go forward. His journey veers again when he encounters Harriet Vane and falls in love. The tools that he has picked up along the way and the special knowledge acquired allows him to win the damsel and live happily ever after in the mundane world of Tallboys.

In the case of Crispin Guest, he must continue on stages 2 and 3 for most of the series. Time will tell whether he achieves steps 4 and 5. But that does not limit his growth or even those inevitable steps backwards he might need to take. By continuing to experience trials and rising above them, his character is strengthened and broadened. Likewise, the wise ones he encounters can come in many guises, and the tools he gains may yet lead him onto many more trials.

Sometimes I feel sorry for the poor bloke.   

You can read more about Crispin on his blog www.CrispinGuest.com or an excerpt of VEIL OF LIES on www.JeriWesterson.com.

The Dark Hero's Journey

I'm anxiously waiting for the debut release of my medieval mystery VEIL OF LIES on October 28, and to pass the time, I thought I'd share a few moments in crime with you. My novel is a bit darker than your standard medieval mystery, one of the reasons it's called a "medieval noir." It's grittier, edgier, with a brooding protagonist who is making an inner journey he'd rather not take. In this series, I explore what dark paths a man must travel to keep his honor in tact.

 

Doesn't sound much like a hero, does it. But what is a hero? What are his qualities and what is this journey he must embark upon?   

The wonderful mythology professor Joseph Campbell popularized the term "hero's journey" in his lectures and books on mythology and comparative religion. You might recall him from the memorable program with Bill Moyers called The Power of Myth and the companion book to the series with the same name. Campbell was influenced first by Carl Jung who explained that the hero—that is, YOU, being the hero in your own saga—must experience certain steps that represent the struggle for psychological wholeness, which Jung called individuation. Campbell called it the monomyth, a term he got from James Joyce. Whether writers actively seek these steps or not, the best literature seems to follow them.

What are these steps? Broken down to their simplest components:

1) A call to adventure or quest

2) Trials and tribulations along the way

3) Gaining knowledge and tools from wise ones

4) Achieving the quest and receiving special powers

5) Returning to the mundane life and applying those powers for the betterment of the community

Granted, that is a significantly abbreviated form of the message, but if applied to any number of "mythologies" we can see the pattern repeating. The Illiad and the Odyssey, the Egyptian gods mythology, Beowulf, the Bible, Buddhist writings, The Lord of the Rings (which took its mythology from many Norse and Celtic sources), Star Wars (where George Lucas says he used these stages of the hero's journey deliberately), and the Harry Potter series, to name but a few.

What does this mean to a story to apply these stages or steps? Will a story fail if it doesn't include these steps?

Well, no. It's just that some stories really scream for this. And while I didn't consciously frame my own series around the hero's journey, that's exactly what happened, despite my best efforts.

When I was trying to come up with an original take on the medieval mystery, I decided to style my protagonist on the hardboiled detective of the 30s and 40s. I actually researched them. Yes, even through text books. One in particular is by a University of Texas professor, Hard-Boiled: Working-Class Readers and Pulp Magazines by Erin A. Smith. I used her examples to break down this style of story into its components, and worked on what I needed in a detective to make it work. My familiar examples were Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe. They are the lone wolves who perhaps had a better or at least hopeful past that somehow degenerated by circumstances, leaving them cynical and with a chip on their shoulders. Women came and went through their lives and relationships were few. Hard drinking was part of their credo and they were often roughed up or did the roughing up.

When I transplanted these traits to a medieval man I found a very interesting transformation. My protagonist, Crispin Guest, needed to be brought low so that he would have no alternative but to become a private detective. What resulted was a poignancy I hadn't expected. A man who had everything and lost it all. He is an ex-knight, having lost his title, wealth, and place in the world in one fell swoop when he committed treason against King Richard II. Spared execution, he was set adrift in London with nothing but the clothes on his back. We have more than a man with a chip on his shoulder. We have the makings a true tragic hero.

The chivalric code was not only made to order for such characters as Spade and Marlowe, but certainly Crispin, who actually was a knight. This code includes maintaining one's personal honor but not at the expense of others; to be truthful; to protect the weak; to seek justice. This code can be found in the heroes of most any epic: King Arthur, Frodo, Harry Potter. It is this last in the code—to seek justice—that puts the action into motion for both Spade and Marlowe, and also for Crispin. But unlike Spade or Marlowe (or most any detective from the past with the exception of Lord Peter Wimsey, who can be considered on his own hero's journey), Crispin learns and grows from his experience, which moves him into another category from the typical hardboiled detective and plants him firmly on the path of the hero's journey.

Tomorrow, the conclusion.

Blogging This Week: Jeri Westerson

Blogging this week is Jeri Westerson. Jeri is a journalist, first time novelist, and noted blogger on things mysterious and medieval.  She lives with her family in Menifee, California.

In London of 1383, Crispin Guest is a man adrift in a rigidly defined society - a disgraced knight, convicted of treason, stripped of his rank and his honor - but left with his life - for plotting against Richard II.  Having lost his patron and his friends, with no trade to support him, Crispin has turned to the one thing he still has - his wits - to scrape a living on the mean streets of London.
Guest is called to the compound of a reclusive merchant who suspects that his wife of infidelity and wants Guest to look into the matter.  In dire need of money, Crispin discovers that the wife is indeed up to something but when Crispin comes to inform his client, he is found dead - murdered in a sealed room, locked from the inside.  Now Guest finds himself in the middle of a complex plot involving the dark secrets, international plots, and a missing religious relic - one that lies at the heart of this impossible crime.