In Search of the Penny Drop

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Mutoscope at Disneyland

In the good old days (you know, before virtual reality, smartphones, TikTok, and even TV and radio) the kids loved to go to penny arcades. So named because almost everything in them cost a penny, they provided brief respite and entertainment from the drudgery of life. 

For that one copper coin you could play games—like the claw-grabbing-a-toy game—or get your fortune told. 

Most popular were Kinetoscopes and Mutoscopes. The former were short silent films, the latter a series of flipping photographs that told a short story. When you first looked into these machines you saw only one image. When your penny dropped you turned a crank and the “show” started. 

Which is where we get the concept of the “penny drop” in mystery fiction. It is that moment where something happens that triggers or points to the final solution. It’s that last bit that allows the sleuth to connect the dots. 

We see it in all classic mysteries, from Holmes to Poirot, Father Brown to Miss Marple, Columbo to Jessica Fletcher.

In my own thrillers, there is usually a mystery at the heart of things. Which means I need that penny drop. It is often the last thing I find. In my personal Scrivener template, I have a penultimate card labeled “Penny Drop” where I scribble notes as I go along. I’ll include memos sent by the Boys in the Basement when I first wake up.

When you nail the penny drop, it’s one of the most satisfying moments of the whole process.

Here is a description of the penny drop from Tom Sawyer’s excellent Fiction Writing Demystified (Note: Sawyer was showrunner for Murder, She Wrote.)

[T]he penny drops for the sleuth at the instant he or she hears, sees, tastes, smells touches or otherwise experiences something which—when combined (usually mentally) with a fact or facts gleaned earlier—tells the detective that till now, everyone in the show has been following false leads. Suddenly, the protagonist has it FIGURED OUT—if not all of it, most of it—and is off and running in the direction of the “Gotcha” scene, leaving the other characters, and the viewers, mystified as to what has been put together, how it has been accomplished, and where he or she plans to go with it.

And here is the #1 most important rule (there, I said it) of all:

[I]t’s important, even if the  penny drop is prompted for the protagonist by some lucky accident or coincidence, that most of the other elements of the equation are earned—the result of his or her doing.

Put that down on a Sticky Note and paste it where you can see it, or better yet burn it into your writer’s memory bank.

Now, mystery writers are all over the map when it comes to the who done it part. Some like to write a discovery draft to find out. Others, me included, like to start with the who and the motive, giving me a “shadow story” that helps create the plot. 

Whatever your approach, you’re going to need the right penny drop. How to find it?

1. Don’t settle on the first thing that comes to mind. It may be the right solution, but allow others to bubble up and audition. In my Romeo WIP, I seriously considered at least six possible drops. I woke up one morning with a seventh in my mind, and that’s the one I chose.

2. Create a visual of all the main characters and look at them from time to time. I use two things for this: A Scapple (a Scrivener app that lets you create mind maps and connection); and a Scrivener corkboard with character photos (since you’re not publishing these, you can use Google images, which is my preferred method. It’s no secret many writers create their own images with AI).

3. Consider all the senses. As Sawyer points out, not every penny drop is visual. There’s sound (see Chesterton’s Father Brown story “The Queer Feet”), smell, taste, touch. Agatha Christie used every one of these at one time or another. 

Of course, not every book has a traditional mystery involved. But I contend page-turning fiction always has mystery elements that keep the reader wondering, Why is this happening? What’s going to happen next? How can the character possibly survive (physically, psychologically, or professionally)?

Instead of solving a murder, you can use the penny drop as a “big reveal” that explains all the happenings to the main character (as in Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca) or to the readers themselves (Gone Girl).

It has been announced that the U.S. Mint will soon stop making pennies. I’ll miss them. I used to spend mine on Bazooka bubble gum, with its comics featuring Bazooka Joe. Will it now be a nickel for your thoughts? There’s inflation for you.

Here at TKZ, your thoughts are free, so go ahead and share them!

23 thoughts on “In Search of the Penny Drop

  1. Interesting. I’ve heard of the concept being referred to here as penny drop but never heard the ‘penny drop’ name associated with it. Although I am old enough to remember actually being able to get ‘penny candy’ way back in the day.

    I’m still very much in the learning stages of how to write mystery but when you nail that penny drop moment it’s a very satisfying experience after all the toil you’ve put into the story. I’m currently struggling with a mystery & am not yet anywhere near that penny drop moment. But I’ll get there. 😎

  2. Ah, the penny arcades. We vacationed in Newport Beach (CA) many years when I was a kid, and a huge treat was going to Balboa Island (birthplace of the chocolate covered frozen banana) to the Fun Zone and Penny Arcade. My brother and I had a large piggy bank where we saved our pennies all year.
    But you wanted to know about using the penny drop in writing. I’m not a plotter. More of a planster. In my mysteries, I’m usually solving the crime along with my protagonist, and we both have that ‘aha’ moment. In yesterday’s scene, it was one of those “Why didn’t I think of that?” for both of us. And, it just so happened, it saved me a lot of going down research rabbit holes.

  3. You could say that the penny drop leads to the big payoff…

    As to inflation, it happed to the pay phone: first it was “drop a dime”, then it was “here’s a quarter, call someone who cares”, and now… “Pay phone?”

    • You could say that the penny drop leads to the big payoff…

      Perfect! I’m stealing…er, borrowing…that, George.

      I’m reminded of the story of the grandparents taking their little granddaughter to a restaurant which featured comic book covers on the walls. The girl stared in wonder at Superman emerging in his costume, and the hostess asking, “Hasn’t she ever seen Superman?”

      And grandpa says, “No, she’s never seen a phone booth.”

  4. Great analogy, Jim. I love that “penny drop” moment. You can almost hear the click of the coin when it goes through the slot, and the detective puts the final piece of the puzzle in place.

    Looking forward to the next Romeo book.

  5. Jim, great description of that satisfying moment of realization.

    I’m a first draft pantser. For me, the analogy is a light bulb moment. The story has been a dark, shadowy room. Suddenly my subconscious flips on the light switch and illuminates everything. I can see the solution as well as see down the hallway for the rest of the story.

    In the second draft, the light bulb also shows the breadcrumbs that the subconscious had dropped in the first draft that I wasn’t aware of at the time. Magic.

    • Great description of the pantsing-discovering process. I do my pansting-discovering in the wild and free plot-planning phase. That’s great fun, just like running amok in a Penny Arcade!

  6. The penny drop analogy perfectly encapsulates the moment of realization, when everything clicks into place. It really is the key to a mystery’s resolution, and does depend upon being set up and the reader (or viewer) subtly primed for it.

    With modern mysteries it usually happens right before the confrontation with the murderer, so timing is crucial iMHO.

    I’m an outliner, so I know who did it and why, but the penny drop can take some work to get to. It’s well worth the effort.

  7. I’ve been watching “Murder, She Wrote” reruns. My current favorite is the one where Jessica’s former student writes a Peyton Place type novel about Cabot Cove. Absolutely hilarious.

    You can always tell the “penny drop” when Jessica’s gets a particular expression and everyone else says “What?” followed by Jessica saying “I think I know who killed x, I just can’t prove it.”

  8. I have 4 siblings and we used to walk together to church on Sunday morning back in the early seventies. Then we’d walk to the Arcade in tiny Abilene, KS, to pick up the Sunday newspaper for my dad. I don’t remember any games, but there were tons of penny candies. We’d spend forever deciding which ones we wanted (and could afford). We were lucky to have a nickel a piece to spend. My mom used to go around the house hunting for change in the couch, her purse, the cabinets, until she had a dollar so two of us could go to “the show.” (the movies). As a pantser, I usually know what the crime is and who did it (some times why). What I don’t know is how the protagonist will figure it out. I love figuring that out as I go.

    • I’m with you on wanting to know the who and the why up front. ES Gardner constructed a “murderer’s ladder” for his plots–crime and motive, the first attempt at cover up, but leaving behind a small clue, and further attempts and more clues. Funny, in those days the spelled it “clews.”

  9. I’ve never heard the term used for a plot moment, only as a moment of real life epiphany. The TV show HOUSE was really good at using the subplot to give House his epiphany of the sick person of the week’s illness.

  10. Love how you described the penny drop, Jim! I’m there now with the WIP and am toying with two different drops. Can’t decide yet. I’m so torn, it stalled me. Maybe I’ll write both to “try them on” and see which fits best. It’s better than staying at a stalemate. Your post helps. Thank you!

    • Great, Sue. That’s how it’s done. I have sometimes written a few different scenes to try out drops. I save them all just in case I want to go back to one!

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