HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Reds and readers, no matter where you are, stop and give Michelle Cullen a standing ovation! Michelle is a super-talented writer, and a wonderful person, who has steadfastly and determinedly gone after her dream of writing a successful published mystery, and wow she has succeeded spectacularly.
Her brand new book, A Field Guide to Murder is out right now-- isn't that a great title and such an irresistible cover?--and it is exactly what you want to read.
But. Read this first. and then you'll understand why her book is so terrific.
From the Field to the Crime Scene: What Anthropology Taught Me About Detection
by Michelle L. Cullen
In the early days of my career, I spent a decade helping to rebuild communities after war across Africa, East Asia, South Asia, and the Pacific. My job was to use my anthropological training to help design and evaluate projects so they didn’t enflame existing tensions. This involved engaging with varied walks of life and observing the best and worst of human behavior. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that this fieldwork doubled as a solid education for writing crime fiction. Many of the skills that I needed are the same as those inherent to good detectives.
A critical part of my job was to notice details. Small things like how people enter a room, where they sit, who speaks first. When I couldn’t conduct an interview in English or French, I had to rely on an interpreter. This forced me to notice elements around the words spoken: body language, tone, hesitation, nervous tics, conversation rabbit holes and shifts. I became attuned to what was said, what wasn’t, and what might be significant about the gap between the two. This type of attention to detail is the utmost skill required for detection.
I also learned that context means everything. Anthropologists are wired to ask why something exists in its particular form: why this object, in this place, used in this way, at this time. A similar line of questioning is used at crime scenes. Every detail is a clue to something larger.
In the early days of my career, I spent a decade helping to rebuild communities after war across Africa, East Asia, South Asia, and the Pacific. My job was to use my anthropological training to help design and evaluate projects so they didn’t enflame existing tensions. This involved engaging with varied walks of life and observing the best and worst of human behavior. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that this fieldwork doubled as a solid education for writing crime fiction. Many of the skills that I needed are the same as those inherent to good detectives.
A critical part of my job was to notice details. Small things like how people enter a room, where they sit, who speaks first. When I couldn’t conduct an interview in English or French, I had to rely on an interpreter. This forced me to notice elements around the words spoken: body language, tone, hesitation, nervous tics, conversation rabbit holes and shifts. I became attuned to what was said, what wasn’t, and what might be significant about the gap between the two. This type of attention to detail is the utmost skill required for detection.
I also learned that context means everything. Anthropologists are wired to ask why something exists in its particular form: why this object, in this place, used in this way, at this time. A similar line of questioning is used at crime scenes. Every detail is a clue to something larger.
For example, in anthropology, the contents of a purse can be used to shed light on someone’s personal life, social structure, economic status, and even belief system. For a detective, that same purse at a crime scene can provide insight to the victim, why they may have been killed, and clues that point to the killer.
Another important facet of anthropology involves striving to suspend judgment. I learned firsthand that the world is rarely black and white. I witnessed the aftermath of unimaginable violence, but I also came to understand that the history that sparked that violence was not a clean story of victims and villains, rather a conflation of the two. Holding that complexity without collapsing it into something simpler is hard, but essential – for good fieldwork and for good detection.
Additionally when in the field, I had to seamlessly move between worlds. I’ve sat across the table from government ministers and subsistence farmers, community visionaries and stone-cold killers. Each conversation required a different technique to forge connection, a different kind of trust-building, a different way of making someone feel safe enough to confide in me. These abilities are also important skills for a detective to possess.
Finally, I learned to trust my instincts. When my gut told me there was something wrong, there was. Possessing this live or die reflex is crucial if a detective is going to move onto their next case.
Given all of this, it was hardly a jump for me to want to make one of the main characters an anthropologist. I was able to apply what I’d learned through my work overseas to my amateur sleuth, Harry Lancaster. But anthropology is hardly the only profession that provides a good foundation for detecting.
Another important facet of anthropology involves striving to suspend judgment. I learned firsthand that the world is rarely black and white. I witnessed the aftermath of unimaginable violence, but I also came to understand that the history that sparked that violence was not a clean story of victims and villains, rather a conflation of the two. Holding that complexity without collapsing it into something simpler is hard, but essential – for good fieldwork and for good detection.
Additionally when in the field, I had to seamlessly move between worlds. I’ve sat across the table from government ministers and subsistence farmers, community visionaries and stone-cold killers. Each conversation required a different technique to forge connection, a different kind of trust-building, a different way of making someone feel safe enough to confide in me. These abilities are also important skills for a detective to possess.
Finally, I learned to trust my instincts. When my gut told me there was something wrong, there was. Possessing this live or die reflex is crucial if a detective is going to move onto their next case.
Given all of this, it was hardly a jump for me to want to make one of the main characters an anthropologist. I was able to apply what I’d learned through my work overseas to my amateur sleuth, Harry Lancaster. But anthropology is hardly the only profession that provides a good foundation for detecting.
What other non-law enforcement careers jump to mind? Which are your favorites when it comes to reading amateur sleuth mystery novels?
HANK: Such great questions! And again, congratulations! Me? I always love a good reporter book--when the author gets it right, of course. How about you, Reds and Readers?
HANK: Such great questions! And again, congratulations! Me? I always love a good reporter book--when the author gets it right, of course. How about you, Reds and Readers?
A cranky widower and his spirited caregiver team up to solve his neighbor’s murder in this charming and original mystery, perfect for fans of Richard Osman and Benjamin Stevenson.
Once a globe-trotting anthropologist, Harry Lancaster is now certain that all his grand adventures are behind him. Recently widowed and suffering from a fractured hip, Harry spends his days and nights behind a pair of binoculars, nose-deep in his neighbors’ affairs. His millennial caregiver, Emma, is determined to get him out of his armchair and back into the world.
Fate intervenes when Harry’s mysterious neighbor, Sue, phones, pleading for help. But instead of rescuing her, Harry and Emma find Sue dead: poisoned, days after a break-in at Sue’s house. Harry resolves to find out what happened, and Emma insists on going along for the ride. Together, they discover motives and suspects abound in Harry’s quaint condominium community—putting them both in the crosshairs of a cold-blooded killer.
Michelle L. Cullen has lived and traveled all over the world: from working as a (decent if powered by enough espresso) bilingual secretary in Paris to backpacking around Europe, Central America, and Southern Africa, to helping rebuild communities after war throughout Africa, East Asia, South Asia, and the Pacific — where she saw the best and worst of human behavior. Her lifelong fascination with people, and why they do what they do, was further fueled by her academic training. She obtained her Ph.D. from the London School of Economics' Sociology Department and her master’s degree in Anthropology from Melbourne University in Australia. A fan of adventure, she has a black belt in Taekwondo, has summited 900 feet rock climbing, and has flown a helicopter (once, during a lesson, for five terrifying minutes). She currently lives in Annapolis, Maryland, where she’s either doing yoga, playing outside, or plotting murder.
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