Uncovering the Villain in the Cozy Mystery – Guest Post by Leslie Budewitz

Today’s guest post is by my good pal, three-time Agatha award winner Leslie Budewitz. Recently I attended a talk by Leslie and a local lavender farmer that tied into the release of her new book, Lavender Lies Bleeding. From beta-reading the book, I’d already learned fascinating facts about that business. But being in a meeting room filled with lavender samples was truly intoxicating. Check out Leslie’s book for a fragrant reading delight.

Take it away, Leslie!

~~~

The heart of the cozy mystery is the community. When a murder occurs, an amateur sleuth investigates because crime disrupts the social order. She embodies the world view that people are basically good, and one person can make a difference.

(Some cozy sleuths are male, but most are female, including my own, so I’ll use she and her.)

(And remember, these kinds of stories are called cozies because they involve closely connected people. There may be humor, ghosts, or recipes, but the crime and its impact are serious—and so is our sleuth.)

So how do cozy writers deal with villains? (Spoilers ahead. Oh, well.)

What’s the crime? In the cozy, the murder is personal. (A few cozies involve other major crimes or the threat of murder without an actual body.) There’s no random violence, no serial killers, no ticking bombs that could change the face of the planet. In other words, the crime is personal to the community—whether it’s the small town of Jewel Bay, Montana in my Food Lovers’ Village mysteries or a community-within-the-community, such as Pike Place Market and the Seattle food and restaurant community in my Spice Shop mysteries—so the connections between the story people are critical.

Who is our sleuth and what tools does she have? The cozy sleuth is an amateur, in the very best sense of the word—driven by determination to right a wrong. She may be new to town (Kathleen, the new librarian, in Sofie Kelly’s Magical Cats mysteries, or Blanche White, on a working vacation taking care of a wealthy family’s children in Blanche Among the Talented Tenth by Barbara Neely, a local girl come home (Erin Murphy in my Village series), or a long-time resident in a new situation (Pepper in my Spice Shop mysteries), but she is deeply committed to the community.

It’s that commitment, her personal stakes, that lead her to investigate. Mere curiosity is not enough.

Without access to search warrants, forensics, and other investigative tools, our sleuth does her work the old-fashioned way, using her personal skills and her knowledge of the community. She can ask questions the police can’t, make connections they don’t see. She may be able to see things others don’t because she herself is not seen, like Blanche. Often, she has specialized knowledge, such as the properties of particular spices, the origin of coffee beans, or the emotional value of a particular first edition, that aids her. Above all, she relies on her knowledge of human nature, of what drives people to extremes.

Who’s our victim? Look to the victim, Poirot said, and as usual, he was right. Identifying the victim’s secrets and relationships may point to one suspect or absolve another.

Who are our suspects? Again, look to the victim. The circumstances of the crime may narrow the search quickly, but it’s also important to look at the victim’s wider circle—her family, friends, neighbors, co-workers. The cozy typically involves 3-5 suspects—and our sleuth may be one of them, especially in the series opener. Each has to have had motive, means, and opportunity.

Who, our sleuth asks, would have wanted this person dead? Why? Could they have done it, given the likely weapon, the time and location, and other circumstances? What else is going on that reveals clues or motives? What are the suspects doing? How does our killer tip his hand, or put our sleuth in danger?

Consider Murder on the Orient Express: No, it’s not truly a cozy, but it’s a great example. Clearly, the killer was on the train, either in the snow-stranded car or with access to it. As Poirot asks questions, he is investigating the victim as much as his fellow passengers. He begins to get a sense of the man and what he did that made him a target. Poirot asks who had opportunity—who was in the adjacent cars, who was in the hallway when the victim was killed, who had access to his room, who had an alibi. All the while, he is learning more about the other passengers. As their interconnections emerge, he develops his theory of what happened.

What drives our killer? Given what I’ve said about the community and personal connections, you won’t be surprised that the motives are also personal. The killer may feel forced to act to prevent the victim from uncovering evidence of the killer’s past crimes, as in Murder at the PTA by Laura Alden, where the uncovering is literal. The killer may strike out to remove an obstacle to his goals, such as when an employee discovers her boss’s nefarious plan and threatens to speak out, in Crime Rib, my 2nd Food Lovers’ Village mystery. Or the killer might believe the victim is about to harm someone else, as in Sofie Kelly’s Curiosity Thrilled the Cat.

Other motives may be revenge, anger, jealousy, greed, a sense of betrayal, or an equally strong emotion. Self-defense and self-preservation can play a part. The killing may be planned or spur-of-the-moment—which may point to one suspect over another.

How does our sleuth identify the killer? Identifying the killer in any mystery is a mix of teasing out the motive, means, and opportunity. For the cozy sleuth, this means asking questions. Poking her nose where it may not belong, because she’s on a mission. Putting her safety—and sometimes that of people she loves—in danger. Irritating the police, now and then. By using the tools of her own experience. Erin Murphy, in my Food Lovers’ Village mysteries, left a job as a grocery buyer for a major discount chain to take over her family’s local foods market. Spreadsheets are second nature to her, and her Spreadsheet of Suspicion helps her keep track of what she knows and doesn’t know.

If the victim and any suspects are not local, what ties and conflicts could have led to their death? That’s key in Kelly’s Curiosity Thrilled the Cat, where the victim is in town for a festival—but it’s clear he’s been here before. In Barbara Ross’s Torn Asunder, the victim and some of the suspects are in town for a wedding at our sleuth’s business; other suspects are locals or newcomers. Our sleuth discovers that no one liked the victim—essentially a man who needed killing—before uncovering the real reason a new employee is in town, leading her to the killer.

The sleuth’s and killer’s circles may intersect or not, depending on the crime, but will be close. In Blanche Cleans Up by Barbara Neely, our sleuth is the cook in a powerful family’s home; she knows the family and who comes in and out of the house. In Ross’s Shucked Apart, Julia first meets her boyfriend’s poker buddy after a theft at her oyster farm; when the friend dies and Julia investigates, she meets people she hadn’t known—and also discovers unexpected ties to people she already knew that help her identify the killer.

It’s not uncommon to have a second, or occasionally a third, murder. That, of course, may shake up the suspect list, eliminating one suspect by making her a victim and another who was in jail or the hospital, and adding one who—well, you decide what he was up to. Those murders may happen on the page, or in the past. In The Shadow of Memory by Connie Berry, our sleuth discovers that old friends of our victim have died under mysterious circumstances. What was the killer after, and how did killing them help him get what he wanted?

It’s also possible to have multiple killers, whose goals may be separate or intersect. In Crime Rib, a visitor kills another visitor while a local kills another local. Both share a motivation: to eliminate someone who stands in his way. To solve the first killing, Erin has to figure out what the victim knew; to solve the second, she has to ask not just who killed this most likeable man, but who thought they would benefit from his death.

In The Marlow Murder Club by Robert Thorogood, three killers hope to avoid detection through the usual means—exploring who might have wanted the victim dead—by trading victims and killing on another’s behalf. Only when our trio of sleuths questions alibi evidence do they tumble to the truth.

Cozies may be “clean” in their avoidance of rough language and graphic violence, but there’s plenty of dirt going on. Suspects may be guilty of other crimes and misdeeds, even if only one is the killer. In To Err is Cumin, my 8th Spice Shop mystery, Pepper discovers that our victim, a disgraced chef she’d once tangled with, had uncovered a criminal scheme implicating several men involved in leasing space and equipment to restaurants. Any of them might have made a good killer. It takes Pepper some doing—and puts her at some risk—to discover who wanted the lid kept on badly enough to push our chef into the Ship Canal and leave him there.

And in Lavender Lies Bleeding, the 9th in the series, a woman and her brother-in-law have different reasons for targeting our victim and her business, a lavender farm. When the man screws up, the stakes rise and his sister-in-law steps in, the resulting murder fueled by anger, greed, and bitterness. Different motives, different crimes, making for a twisty plot that’s fun to unravel.

Some modern cozies follow a less typical structure, making for more variety in the villain’s motives and the sleuth’s approach. In Misha Popp’s Pies Before Guys series, our sleuth is a baker who goes after men who harm women. But before taking action, she has to investigate their crimes. Is our sleuth an angel of justice—or a potential serial killer?

In The Golden Spoon by Jessa Maxwell, set at a cooking competition at a Vermont country estate, each competitor has a secret or a reason to strike back. When a judge dies, those secrets and motives begin to surface, even without an amateur sleuth on the case. Ultimately, readers know who killed the judge and why, a killing utterly justified. The police blame the wrong woman, but we know what she did, and the punishment does fit the crime.

Ultimately, the cozy sleuth and killer will tangle—with words, actions, or both. The truth will out, and justice will prevail. Dinner might be late, even in a foodie cozy, but the taste will be oh, so satisfying.

~~~

Leslie Budewitz

Leslie Budewitz tells stories about women’s lives, seasoned with friendship, food, a dash of history, and a heaping spoonful of mystery. She writes the Spice Shop mysteries set in Seattle’s Pike Place Market, as well as the Food Lovers’ Village mysteries and historical short fiction set in her native Montana. As Alicia Beckman, she writes moody suspense. A three-time Agatha Award winner and past president of Sisters in Crime, Leslie lives in NW Montana with her husband, Don Beans, a musician and doctor of natural medicine.

 

 

Check out Leslie’s brand new release Lavender Lies Bleeding, the 9th Spice Shop mystery.

Cozy Words of Wisdom

Today Words of Wisdom takes a slightly self-indulgent turn to look at a personal favorite mystery sub-genre: the cozy.

I’m a fan of cozy mysteries, everything from Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers to books by authors like Joanna Fluke and Sara Rosette, and also greatly enjoy TV cozy mysteries such as Murder, She Wrote and Mrs. Sidhu Investigates.

I also write cozy mysteries, and in fact, just this week, I published the second book in my 1980s Meg Booker Librarian mystery series, Book Drop Dead.

With that that in mind, I present three excerpts from the Kill Zone archives dealing with different aspects of cozy mysteries. Kathryn Lilley discusses how she found her cozy voice. Elaine Viets differentiates between cozies and cutsies. Finally, Debbie Burke asks cozy mystery author Leslie Budewitz about dealing with difficult themes in cozies as well as differences in settings in cozies.

Those of you who have been hanging around this blog for a while may know that I became a fiction writer somewhat by accident. Back in the 90’s, I started writing Nancy Drew mysteries when a college buddy-turned-editor invited me to submit a story proposal for the series. When my editor friend moved on in her career, I stopped writing. I remember having vague notions back then about trying to write a manuscript on my own, but the idea seemed too intimidating. Without my editor friend as a Spirit Guide, I was at sea.

In 2003, I got RIF’ed from my job as a corporate writer. In retrospect, being laid off was the best thing that could have happened. With the blessing of a supportive spouse, I used my copious spare time to write the manuscript I’d been dreaming about.

I had a main character in mind for my story and a rough outline, but I struggled to find a “voice.” Writing in the Nancy Drew voice had been relatively easy, because Nancy already had a voice. My first attempts at finding my own voice failed miserably. Everything I produced sounded dry and flat, like it had been written by the journalist I once was. My main character came across as angry and slightly bitter. Completely unappealing.

For inspiration I started binge reading mysteries. Like Ariel’s song in The Little Mermaid, I hoped to hear a voice that would rescue me from the sea. One day I pulled a mass market mystery off the shelf and started skimming. This book sounded different, I discovered. It sounded funny. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had just discovered the world of cozy mysteries and “chick lit”.

I can write like that, I remember thinking. From that moment on, writing in a brand new voice flowed smoothly. My character Kate became a little bit like Nancy Drew, if Nancy had gained weight and developed a potty mouth.

Kathryn Lilley—January 20, 2015

First, what is a cozy?
A cozy is usually a mystery with no graphic sex, cuss words or violence. Generally, the murder takes place offstage. Dame Agatha is the queen of cozies, but Miss Marple is no pushover. “I am Nemesis,” the fluffy old lady announces, and relentlessly pursues killers.
Conan

Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes mysteries are not cozies, though they have many of the same elements. Sherlock has a hard edge to him, and some of his stories, like “The Man With the Twisted Lip,” border on noir. Doyle, like Grafton and Sayers, writes traditional mysteries, but they aren’t considered cozies. You’ve lumped a lot of traditional novels together under the cozy umbrella. Traditional mysteries play fair – they give readers all the clues, though they may be cleverly disguised. You may be writing a traditional mystery. The “cutesies” that you object to are simply one branch of the cozy sub-genre.

The so-called “cutesies” exist for one reason: They sell.
Amazon does not waste space on books that don’t move. Many readers love to read about knitters, cookie bakers, candy makers and florists who solve murders. In fact, the more arcane the sleuth’s profession, the better. There are cozies about pickle shops, jam shops, antique shops, plus tea, chocolate and coffee shops galore.
The readers for these cozies are primarily women.

And that leads us to another issue: Books by women cozy authors are often relegated to the pink ghetto. They are given a cute title, a cartoon cover featuring high heels, lipstick, or maybe a cat (and never underestimate the importance of cats in cozies) and sent out into the publishing world with little or no support – and I’m not talking about lingerie. Some of the cozy mysteries published by major houses don’t even rate their own press release. They get a “group release” with three or four other similar cozy authors.

This problem exists for many books written by women. The Boston Globe wrote about a Radcliffe alumni panel on women’s fiction. The article said: “Women of letters have been marginalized since the dawn of Western literature. It is nonetheless surprising that this predicament remains so entrenched. In a yearly study VIDA, an organization for women in the literary arts, reliably finds that major publications still carry more male bylines and cover more books authored by men.

“Although their impact is unquantifiable, book covers certainly have something to do with this disparity. Marketing affects the way readers of both genders perceive the artistic merits of a book. Stereotypically feminine signifiers— a lipstick tube, a woman’s naked back — can inadvertently disqualify a novel from the world of serious literature.”

Elaine Viets—April 16, 2018

 Question: Although you write cozy mysteries, you also tackle serious themes. How do you balance the lighthearted tone of a cozy with grim issues like homelessness and family dysfunction?

Leslie: Any mystery—any novel—depends on conflict, some internal, some external. Those conflicts often arise from the world around us, whether it’s family tension or a dispute over whose turn it is to beg on a particular street corner. Other cozy authors have tackled social justice issues as well—Cleo CoyleElaine Viets, and Diane Mott Davidson among them. The trick in a cozy, I think, is to explore the emotions and motivations that the issues raise and make sure that the external actions flow from those internal tensions, because a cozy is ultimately about the personal impact of a crime and the community response to it.

I tend to use an ABC plot structure, with the murder the A or primary plot, the protagonist’s relationships the B or main subplot, and life in the shop or community the C or secondary subplot. That keeps the balance, I hope, and allows me to sneak in some humor and lighter moments while giving the murder the respect it deserves.

Question: The Spice Shop series is set in Seattle; the Food Lovers’ Village series takes place in a tiny Montana town. Can you talk about the differences in handling urban vs. rural settings? Do the personalities of your big city characters differ from those in a small town? 

Leslie: To me, the heart of a cozy is community, and the role of the amateur sleuth is to probe and protect it. That makes a small town a natural setting. An urban cozy works when it is set in a community within a community—the Pike Place Market and Seattle’s restaurant community, or Coyle’s Greenwich Village coffee house and the coffee business in NYC.

On the flip side, small-town series are prone to Cabot Cove Syndrome—after a while, there’s no one left to kill! You can root the conflict in the town, bring it in from outside, or create a clash between locals and visitors. An urban setting makes a high crime rate more credible, and allows you to move around the various neighborhoods of a city, although you have to simplify geography and keep the protagonist’s home or shop at the center.

As for differences in personalities, that’s a great question and not one I’d considered. Both my main characters grew up where they now live and identify deeply with their communities. Erin Murphy in the Village series left for 15 years before returning; that’s a common story, especially in Montana; it’s my story, and I’m enjoying exploring it through her eyes

Debbie Burke—December 11, 2018

There you have, three aspects of the cozy mystery genre.

  1. Do you read cozies? If so, what are some of your favorites?
  2. How do you arrive at a voice for your characters, whether that’s cozies or something gritter?
  3. What do you see as the appeal of cozies? Do you see cozies as beginning to break out of the “pink ghetto” as described by Elaine?
  4. What do you think of Leslie’s A-B-C plot structure? Do you agree that the heart of a cozy is community (spoiler: I certainly do)?

***

There’s a sign above the library book drop: NO TRASH OR VIDEOTAPES. Meg never thought she’d have to add: NO DEAD BODIES.

It’s May 1985 and Meg Booker already has her hands full, what with running the busy Fir Grove branch library, helping her flaky actor brother with his latest onstage project, and caring for an orphaned kitten that shows up outside the branch.

Then a rare bank note goes missing at a library event, igniting a feud between two local collectors, and Meg thinks her life couldn’t get any more complicated… until a dead body turns up in the book drop room.

Racing against time, Meg must use all of her librarian skills to discover the real killer’s identity, before the police arrest her for the crime.

Book Drop Dead is the second title in the 1980s Meg Booker Librarian Mysteries series.  It’s available at the major ebook retailers via this universal book link.