Dead or Alive
by Gitta Edelmann
In crime fiction most stories are about death. Homicide, manslaughter – though, unfortunately, it’s all too often a woman that is slaughtered, so that we have to add femicide to the list – assassination, suicide. Or, at least, the novel or short story is about an attempt to unalive somebody. Of course, there are other crimes a writer can use in their narrative but most readers these days will probably expect a murder.
In a crime novel we find dead characters and living characters. In the writer’s head, however, they are all alive and kicking. Sometimes painfully so. They have to be, otherwise – at least that’s my experience – the writing will not go smoothly.
Even if the narrative is plot-driven by questions like who is the villain, what appens next, by twists and climaxes, at the heart of the story we find the characters: the victim(s), the investigator(s), the witnesses and the bystanders. They have to act and think, investigate and make mistakes, solve the crime(s) or be caught. They need a past and a present, strengths and weaknesses, and probably a hidden agenda. They have to be people like you and me. So far, so good.
But, as always in life, there is a downside to those very alive characters in my head. They do solve most of my plot problems for me, but they may also cause new challenges by doing what they want. Nowadays, I just raise my eyebrows when that happens, nothing more. There is no point in forcing my ideas on others, not even on people born from my imagination.
In a romantic novel my heroine decides to get her happy ending with a man who is not the one I originally designed for her. But in the course of the storyline he has proved himself to be the better choice. Fine, no problem. Keep going, girl. You know best and all empathising readers will understand and approve.
A character in an alternate historical novel set in an airship is very moody and prickly. I need him to be like this to oppose the female captain and I know his background, but in one of the scenes he acts extremely erratic before going back to his cabin. The airship sways and an empty whisky bottle rolls out from under his berth. Ah, now I see. Good to know his secret.
Alas, it may be far more complicated in a murder mystery.
The first time such an unforeseen interference came up when I was writing a book in the Scottish mystery series MacTavish & Scott. I had drafted a detailed plot, and I knew the victim, the murderer, the how, the when, the where, and the why. I had already introduced a few red herrings for my private detectives and was happily writing away when something awfully shocking happened: My designated culprit was knocked off the Salisbury Craigs in Edinburgh by a person unknown. Now what?
No, I couldn’t change the scene back to my original outline. Somehow, it all felt so utterly right now. I had to admit to myself that I had been mistaken in the identity of the murderer. I took a deep breath and once again I screened each of the other suspects for motive and opportunity. Some hours of thinking and a night of good sleep later, I finally knew who the real murderer was. And the story was so much better than my original idea.
For another book in the series I had outlined a showdown for the last few pages. My detective was taken hostage by the killer and tried to talk her way out of the situation waiting for her friend to come to her rescue. But after a few sentences had been exchanged, I realised that the man was indeed shady, but he was not the murderer. Oops!
Needless to say, that in the end I found a twist, a new suspect, a new solution to the case. And, again, I liked it better than the original idea.
Meanwhile, I have learned how to avoid my stories being interrupted by such surprises: I abstain from plotting, though sometimes I have a rough idea how the story could end. But I keep an open mind. After 20 books of
MacTavish & Scott I know my lady detectives and their methods so well that I can trust them to solve the case I give them. I outline an assignment, like finding a missing person, and a setting, do some research for the background I want to use, and create a bunch of interesting and diverse characters. Then I just start writing, wondering what will happen.
This will probably not work for everyone – there are as many methods of writing as there are authors. But if you get stuck in your manuscript, why not just ask your characters what they would like to do? They might answer.
Fictional characters are never dead, even if they are murder victims. They live in the writer’s and the readers’ brains at least as long as we are writing or reading their stories. Sometimes they even stay alive forever and become immortal.
Gitta Edelmann is a German author of novels and short stories in different genres. She is best known for her Scottish mystery series MacTavish & Scott – The Lady Detectives of Edinburgh that meanwhile comprises 20 books. The first six books have also been translated into English. Occasionally, she works as a translator or editor. She is a member of PEN, the Murderous Sisters and other writers’ associations in Germany, and of the Mystery People.
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