JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Archer Mayor is the mystery writer's mystery writer. How do I know this? Because he is, without a doubt, my mystery writer. When I was an uninformed scribbler trying to figure out how to turn my bad science fiction novel into a good mystery, I picked up a copy of FRUITS OF THE POISONOUS TREE and fell in love: with tough, honorable Joe Gunther, with the story's deep rootedness in the beauty and harshness of Vermont, with the walking wounded - victims, criminals and investigators - that populate Archer Mayor's books. It was the fifth in the series that has now reached twenty-six books with the just-released THE COMPANY SHE KEPT.I can honestly say that if you like my work, it's because I paid attention to the lessons Archer was teaching me.
One of the things Archer is well known for - to the point of, I will admit it, a little gentle teasing from his fellow crime fiction writers - is his passion for research. In his home county, he has worked as a cop, a detective, a death investigator, a firefighter and an EMT. Presumably, the only reason he doesn't hold the top office in town is that he's already the Mayor of Newfane.
But who can rib him about his devotion to authenticity when it yields such delightful results?
Many
thanks for inviting me to chat.
As
homework, I rambled around on the Jungle Red website, and I was
caught by some references to research, accuracy, and how writers are
naturally predisposed to “getting it right.” My brain was
instantly filled with examples both supporting this view, and flying
in the face of it—without necessarily benefiting or suffering
because of it.
I
believe it was John Gardner who introduced the notion that a writer’s
job is to create a fictional dream space for the reader (it may not
have been him, but it sure wasn’t me, lovely as that image may be).
The notion struck such a clarifying chord with me—especially as a
reader—because I had previously been baffled by why certain stories
had suddenly lost their appeal in mid-read.
I
realized that I had been enjoying a book (or a TV show or movie, for
that matter) only to have my “fictional daydream” interrupted by
either a leap of logic or a flat-out error. (Of course, there’s
also always lousy acting or writing, but that’s another subject.)
I
have to admit that I share recent blogger Maia Chance’s obsession
with research—crawling through hoarders’ homes, exploring the
innards of a 1920’s earthen dam, attending autopsies, visiting
high-tech labs or horse-breeding farms—all to sometimes find that
when that scene looms up on my writing horizon, I veer away from it
and never use it.
hidden in the hills, very obscurely, and spent time downtown
watching a woman painted silver stand frozen as a statue. In
Philadelphia (Proof Positive) we scoured scary neighborhoods,
(pretending to be tourists), ate cheese steaks and TastyKakes and
even went to see the Rocky statue.
I
do enjoy the pure pleasures of the task, of course. I fondly recall inching along a 4-foot diameter tunnel under Brattleboro’s Main Street to
share the experience of a homeless character in The Ragman’s Memory, or flying over Northampton to get a feel for the town, as
an ominous, lightning-charged thundercloud chased us back to the
airfield. And there was that trip along some of Newark’s worst
streets for St. Albans Fire, taking photos for documentation,
and being told by my fellow cop guide to keep moving, so we wouldn’t
get shot… Ah! The joys.)
That
having been said, though, is there in fact a point to all this
digging around? There obviously is for me—I want to “get it
right” (and have fun in the process) but do readers actually care?
Years ago, I was chatting with a well-known author at a Bouchercon,
and he blithely commented that he never researched anything and had
the sales record to prove that his readers didn’t care.
I
was appalled (and remain so) but was he perhaps right?
Certainly
some popular crime shows on TV seem to share his attitude, and thrive
(while at the same time driving me from the room—it turns out that
my many years as a cop and a medico-legal death investigator have
hardened me against too much creative license. I am known to rant at
the screen.)
Now, of
course I realize that there are realist/absurdists out there—“He
can’t have used that gun. It didn’t have that kind of trigger
until July, 1952, and this is supposed to be taking place that
winter!” But if you are purporting to be writing about a real time
and place, how rigorously should you toe the accuracy line?
And
how much suspension of disbelief should you impose on your readers?
Your thoughts?
During the height of a harsh Vermont winter,
the body of a woman is found hanging from the steel-mesh retaining net
lining the cliffs along the interstate. She was brutally murdered, with
the word "dyke" carved into her chest. She was also a state senator and
best friend and ally of the current governor, Gail Zigman. At Zigman's
personal request, Joe Gunther and his Vermont Bureau of Investigation
team agree to help the Vermont State Police in their investigation
before the victim's high profile and powerful friends create the
inevitable publicity maelstrom. Raffner was indeed a lesbian, and the word carved into her chest might be evidence of a hate crime, or it might be a feint designed to confuse and mislead investigators. But the question remains-what was she involved with, who wanted her dead, and what company was she keeping? What Gunther and his team discover during their initial investigation isn't the stuff of a simple murder. Someone killed a prominent figure and fabricated an elaborate scene for a purpose.
And this might only be the beginning...in Archer Mayor's The Company She Kept.
You can learn more about Archer Mayor and read excerpts from his books at his website. You can friend him on Facebook, follow him on Twitter as @ArcherMayor. and see interviews and book promos on his YouTube channel.
