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Characters Inspired by Real-Life People -The Research Revolution Sam Seegmiller's 9 Rules for Mystery Writing - Characters Instead of Caricatures - Best Mystery Writers You've Never Heard Of
Charles Dickens based the popular “Bleak House” character of “Inspector Bucket” on real-life, 19th Century Scotland Yard detective, Charles Field. (The fact that Dickens modeled “Inspector Bucket” closely after Field became common knowledge throughout London and probably resulted in the premature end of Field’s Scotland Yard career.)
Arthur Conan Doyle based much of his “Sherlock Holmes” character on his medical profession mentor, Dr. Joseph Bell. Bell was a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh and evidently used his keen command of the powers of deduction while diagnosing patients. Doyle witnessed many examples of Bell’s powers of deduction in practice while clerking for him at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. Doyle gave his famous fictional detective much of Bell’s deductive skills and quirky personality.
Patricia Cornwell’s “Kay Scarpetta” is based on Dr. Marcella Farinelli Fierro, former Virginia Chief Medical Examiner. (retired) Among her many achievements, Dr. Fierro was a consultant to the FBI’s Task Force on National Crime Investigation Center, Unidentified Persons and Missing Persons Files.
Michael Connelly’s inspiration for his female detective, Renee Ballard, is real-life LAPD detective, Mitzi Roberts. Roberts recently retired from City service after a 29-year distinguished career that included stints in the elite LAPD Robbery-Homicide Division and Cold Case Homicide Unit.
In “Red Sockets” (and all future novels in my “1950’s Los Angeles Mystery” series), one of my characters has been inspired by a real-life person. A bigger-than-life person. LAPD Detective Lieutenant Eugenio “Gino” Laveroni is based on Jerry Laveroni, former Hollywood actor-stuntman, former Los Angeles Sheriff’s Office (LASO) police officer, former Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs (BNDD) agent, former Director of Team Security for the New York Yankees. (See what I mean? Any single piece of Jerry’s fantastic career would be the source of a great book - fiction or nonfiction.)
Jerry Laveroni doesn’t need me for his Boswell. He’s been the subject of a Rolling Stone magazine feature article, a documentary and countless newspaper and periodical write-ups. He’s earned and deserves the media recognition he’s received over the years. It was a genuine honor when Jerry gave me permission to develop a fictional version of himself and I’m looking forward to working with him on further developing the Lieutenant Gino Laveroni character in “Requiem for a Waterman” and future novels.
Like “Inspector Bucket”, “Sherlock Holmes”, “Kay Scarpetta” and “Renee Ballard”, “Lieutenant Gino Laveroni” is a stylized version of the character’s real-life counterpart. Like Dickens, Doyle, Cornwell and Connelly, I’ve had the privilege of taking the example of someone I admire and infusing parts of his unique personality and qualities into a fictional character. It has been a real privilege to have Jerry as a friend and weave a small part of him into a fictional tapestry of my own creation.
You’ll be able to read a more-detailed profile of Jerry Laveroni in a separate piece coming up later in the Fall. In the meantime, enjoy reading about his alter-ego as a featured character in “Red Sockets” and the entire “1950’s Los Angeles Mystery” series.
What did a 1956 Los Angeles Metro bus transfer ticket look like? What did a fully-occupied L.A. Central Jail drunk tank look like in the 1950’s?
I researched and used these and countless other details to weave the plot narrative of my debut novel, “Red Sockets”. My findings helped to add subtle elements of period texture to the story. While it is true that some historical information was impossible to find on the Internet, most of my research was successfully conducted online.
During the time I wrote “Red Sockets”, I had many discussions with friends about the research process. More than once I said, “I don’t know how writers could compose a period piece of fiction without the Internet.”
I’m not altogether certain today’s younger authors have any appreciation of how difficult it was in the pre-Digital Age to conduct research or lay your hands on the simplest resources (e.g., films; books; articles; images; etc.) in order to work on a creative project.
“Red Sockets” is my first novel, but I’ve spent time with creative people my entire life. I vividly remember the challenges of conducting comprehensive research in a pre-Internet world.
To illustrate my point, let’s go back to a time when the dinosaurs roamed the earth: 1982.
I was enjoying lunch with two friends. The author and sportswriter, Arnold Hano and the screenwriter Patricia Resnick. Both friends held prominent positions in their respective creative disciplines. Hano was the author of one of the definitive sports books of the 20th Century, “A Day in the Bleachers”. (Look it up on the Internet to learn more. See what I mean?) Resnick is a screenwriter and producer. (Her c.v. can be easily found on the Internet. See??)
Resnick had written the original screenplay for “9-to-5”, which had become a huge hit. She was telling us about how Jane Fonda was very reluctant to take the role; she had doubts about whether the audience would feel sympathy for three office workers who were planning to kill their boss. Resnick asked Fonda if she had ever seen Charlie Chaplin’s film, “Monsieur Verdoux”. Fonda said she hadn’t.
At this point, Arnold Hano exhibited the oddest reaction. He almost gasped and asked Patricia in an incredulous tone, “She’d never seen ‘Monsieur Verdoux’?” It seemed as though he was scandalized by catching Jane Fonda committing some sort of serious fraud regarding her credibility as a film star. I swear, he nearly came up out of his chair. It was almost funny and I wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Patricia Resnick, visibly holding back a look of mirthful dismay, flatly replied, “No she hadn’t.” (It was this awkward exchange that made the whole episode so memorable after so many years.)
Evidently, to prove to Jane Fonda that the villain in a black comedy can indeed earn sympathy from the audience, she arranged for a screening of the film at her alma mater, USC. I guess that did the trick. Jane Fonda was reassured and the rest is cinematic history.
My point to this story is to underscore the fact that in today’s world, Patricia Resnick could have probably called up the film on her phone from the Criterion Collection and let Jane Fonda watch it streaming right then and there. No need for taking the cumbersome, time-consuming steps of arranging a special screening at the USC film school.
So, if you find yourself frustrated by (gulp) having to scroll to the bottom of your SERP to winkle out your next piece of research, think about Patricia Resnick frantically trying to arrange a special screening of a 30 year-old film in order to prevent Jane Fonda from backing out of a role.
The office staff in “9-to-5” relied on a telex machine for information from the head office. That was like flint knives and bearskin rugs compared to the communication tools of today.
“As a research tool, the Internet is invaluable.” - Noam Chomsky
In 2001, Elmore Leonard wrote a short piece for the NY Times, listing his now-famous “ten rules for writing”. All ten rules are sound advice for writers, particularly mainstream fiction writers. However, twenty-five years later, these rules have taken on the somber gravity of a writer’s moral prerequisite. “Elmore Leonard’s Ten Rules for Writing” are treated as sacrosanct, like “Moore’s Law” or Einstein’s “Theory of Relativity”. Venerated principles. Not to be tampered with.
If you are as big of an Elmore Leonard fan as I am, you can probably think of instances across his vast body of work in which he ignored one or another of his rules. That was the great thing about Dutch. He didn’t take himself too seriously. Rules are meant to be broken. Sometimes. Don't fret over it. Elmore Leonard didn't.
Nevertheless, rules do have their place in a writer's life. Over time I’ve pieced together a list of my own mystery fiction writing guidelines. I did not create these nine rules from whole cloth. I used what I’ve learned from others, including Dutch, to (hopefully) be a better writer and create stories that are more appealing to today’s readers.
One: Never write a story you wouldn’t read yourself.
This one probably seems like a no-brainer. I’m not certain it always is. I have paged through books in the bookstore or online that seem almost soulless. When I run across these sorts of seemingly uninspired books, more often than not it is clear the author decided to write a book they perceived as being a “hot genre”. (Possibly at the behest of their publisher.) Maybe a writer’s genuine interest is in Medieval Spain, but sees that “cozy mysteries” set in mid-century Welsh villages are all the rage. They try to create a story way outside their area of interest and can’t fully breathe life into it. They’re not genuinely interested in the time period, locale or style. It often shows.
Two: Timeline.
One evening in the late-70’s I was enjoying dinner with my friend, novelist and screenwriter, Sam Ross. He got off on a passionate diatribe about story timelines. He mentioned the film, “Three Days of the Condor”, being an adaptation of the novel, “Six Days of the Condor”. He said, “Sam, the best stories take place over a short period of time. The movie producers knew they had to condense the timeline in half. Hell, if they’d have made it “One Day of Condor”, it would have been three times as good.” That was Sam’s way of both joking around and making a point. I’ve never forgotten it. Unless you’re intentionally writing some sort of saga, keep the timeline as compressed as possible.
Three: What’s the bad guy up to?
Years ago, I heard Stephen J. Cannell, a master story-teller, interviewed on the late Darian O’Toole’s morning radio show. Cannell told her he had coffee cups made with that question printed on them for his writing staff. (Michael Connelly, not a bad story-teller himself, mentions these cups in one of his Bosch novels.)
Cannell was right, of course. Writers often plow ahead with the sole focus on the hero. A character they identify with. The truth of the matter is, the villain is often the more-interesting character. Max Von Sydow once said that during his career he’d portrayed both Jesus (“The Greatest Story Ever Told”) and “Ming the Merciless”. (“Flash Gordon”) He said that “Ming the Merciless” was the more-interesting character by far.
Let your readers know what the villain is doing every so often. It will add texture to the story.
Four: Don’t get lazy with character descriptions. (Or too-detailed.)
Don’t compare your characters’ appearances with those of celebrities. Number one, it is too easy. Lazy. Challenge yourself. Number two, you may think comparing your heroine to Cate Blanchett makes sense. What if a reader hates Cate Blanchett? There will be no rehabilitating the heroine for that reader. Also, don’t go overboard with a description. Let other characters do a bit of the work for you. In my novel, “Red Sockets”, a character in one scene tells the hero, “Yeah. Big guy. Taller than you.” Descriptive in its non-specificity. I pretty much stick to hair color, eyes, general physique, etc. I let the readers fill in the blanks using their own frames of reference. I hope this lends itself to a more enjoyable reading experience.
Five: Food. People eat. (Unless they don’t.)
Back when the earth was still cooling, one of the many wonderful instructors I had was a man named Gary Patterson. Mr. Patterson was my driver’s education instructor and the school’s varsity baseball coach. He asked the driver’s education class to write a paper detailing an imagined road trip over several days. We had to describe the route and had to contend with at least one problem each day of the journey. (e.g., flat tire; burned out headlight; broken taillight; etc.) When he discussed his opinion of the finished papers with the class, he laughed and said, “Don’t any of you eat? Not one of you mentioned any meals you had along the way.”
I never forgot that remark. It sensitized me to the need to include food and drink in the lives of my characters. My characters like food and regularly enjoy meals throughout the story. Lawrence Sanders was a master at this. Anyone who has read his “Deadly Sin” novels will remember the way Captain Ed Delany loved food. He even classified his favorite sandwiches as “dry” or “wet”. Sanders’ “Archie McNally” series was always written against the backdrop of an orgy of food.
Conversely, some authors skillfully use the lack of food as a great plot device. Anne Hillerman's “Leaphorn, Chee and Manuelito” novels are a great example. Both Jim Chee and his wife, Bernie, are often hungry. Having a regular, satisfying meal seems almost out of reach for them in many portions of Hillerman’s novels. They are frequently frustrated by not being able to eat something. It is a subtle plot device, but does a great job of building tension throughout the rising action and into the climax. For the reader, it is like being "hangry" by proxy. Keep a protein bar handy when you're reading Anne Hillerman's novels. You're bound to get hungry and won't want to stop reading to go to the kitchen.
Six: Limit Gadzookery.
The dictionary defines “gadzookery” as “the use or overuse of period-specific or archaic expressions, as in a historical novel”. I write historical whodunits set in 1950's Los Angeles. I sprinkled a fair amount of 1950's slang and period-landmarks across “Red Sockets”, but not to a distracting excess. (I hope.) At the midpoint of writing “Red Sockets”, I mentioned to a friend that in many cases, a person reading long portions of the novel would have a difficult time pin-pointing the time period. I don’t want a reader conditioned to be hyper-vigilant for the next 1950's reference when I’d prefer they be absorbed by the unfolding plot.
Seven: Let the dialog tell a lot of the story.
Don’t get me wrong. I love books crafted with a well-written narrative and much less dialog. I recently finished reading Robert J. Lloyd’s, “The Bloodless Boy”. It is set in a lesser-known period in British history and is top-heavy with narrative. I loved it.
Years ago, I gave another “dialog-lite” novel, “The Dante Club” by Matthew Pearl, to a friend of mine. It is one of my all-time favorite novels and I am always excited to give someone a book I love. It’s like sharing a part of my soul. A month or so later, I asked my friend if she was enjoying it. She hesitated, then confessed, “It’s a lot of words.”
This was a valuable lesson for me. For many readers, dialog moves the story. It can be challenging for a narrative-heavy novel to compete with busy schedules, YouTube videos, streaming-on-demand, podcasts, etc. In mainstream fiction, especially in mysteries and thrillers, concentrate on allowing dialog to do a lot of the heavy lifting.
Eight: Write dialog the way people talk.
While we’re on the subject of dialog, I am very careful about limiting adverbs, observing proper grammatical rules, applying correct punctuation, etc., when writing the narrative portions of my novels. I throw caution to the wind with dialog. I write dialog the way I hear people speak, regardless of grammar and syntax. Believe me, it gives your novel an authentic feel.
Nine: Take a break when you’re on a roll.
One of the best pieces of writing advice I've ever read has been attributed to William Faulkner. He said, “The only rule I have is to quit while it’s still hot. Never write yourself out. Always quit when it’s going good. Then it’s easier to take it up again. If you exhaust yourself, then you’ll get into a dead spell, and you have trouble with it.” This habit works well for me.
I’m going to follow the advice in #9. Thanks for reading this and Happy Writing!
Back in the late 80’s I was buying a paperback edition of Sue Grafton’s “G is for Gumshoe” at my local bookstore.
The gal who rang my purchase looked the book up and down and said, “Oh, I haven’t read Sue Grafton for a while. Is Kinsey Millhone still driving the V.W.? Does she still cut her own hair with nail scissors? Eat quarter pounders with cheese? Have that all-purpose black dress?”
By the time she got through this sardonic litany, I felt fully on the defensive. It was the quirkiness of the Kinsey character that kept me coming back. The reliability of her eccentricities was part of the charm.
I paid for the book and left before the clerk could “Kinsey-shame” me even more. (She hadn’t yet mocked her daily runs, rarely eating out except at the funky Hungarian restaurant in her neighborhood, the peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, or index cards. As an aside, Jaqueline Winspear’s heroine, Maisie Dobbs, uses index cards to record her investigative findings. I like to believe it is an homage to Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone. I’ll ask her if I ever meet her.)
I was annoyed by the clerk’s sarcastic attack on my reading preference. (For me to have such a clear memory of the episode after 30+ years tells you how annoyed I was.) Nonetheless, it was a great lesson in understanding a reader’s perspective. Character traits are the building blocks of an indelible recurring character. But after a half-dozen books into a series, repetition without discernible growth risks readers being left with a monochrome view of the character and story.
Sue Grafton was a fine mystery writer. I’m certain she believed the alphabet series, planned for 26 installments (alas, she only published 25 before leaving us all too soon), left plenty of runway for Kinsey to grow and evolve.
Indeed, the third novel after “G is for Gumshoe”, “J is for Judgement”, found Kinsey discovering a trove of information about her family she wasn’t aware of. An entire family she wasn’t aware of. Conflicted emotions and growth followed hard at the heels of these revelations. Huge growth of the character was underway and continued throughout the series.
In “S is for Silence”, Grafton gave us a layered plot structure and different points of view. T thru Y built on this more complex style. The character grew and my level of enjoyment from reading the novels grew right along with it.
My point to this anecdote is that a writer should not be afraid to build growth and development into a recurring character. (I have discovered that my characters all but tell me about their evolving path.) In fact, a novelist should expect to build more and more into the main characters as their stories continue. Stephen Hunter readily admits that all three of his Swagger characters grew and continue to evolve in his novels. Fans have seen Charles, Earl and Bob Lee all evolve in their succession of appearances in Hunter’s novels and novellas.
Sometimes an author doesn’t have the time to grow a character, even though the potential is there. Robert B. Parker seemed to have his Jesse Stone character fully-fleshed out when the Paradise police chief made his first cameo in the Spenser novel, “Back Story”. Jesse Stone became an unfading character in Parker’s nine Stone novels. Unfading, but largely unchanging.
Reed Farrel Coleman wrote six Jesse Stone novels for the Parker estate. He infused a great deal of growth and introspection into the character. Reed is an acquaintance of mine and I’ve praised him for his skill in folding extra dimensions into the Stone character. Reed humanized Jesse Stone beyond the set-point Parker left him at without diminishing his exemplar qualities. Talented writers can do that.
Additionally, there are minor characters who are shaped into main characters down the road. A brave writer won’t hesitate to alter the facts to fit the new narrative.
Case in point: Michael Connelly’s second Bosch novel, “The Black Ice”. At one point, Bosch thinks about the time he visited his dying father, later observing the funeral from a distance. Mickey Haller, Jr. is described as being a few years older than Bosch. “Lincoln Lawyer” fans know the Haller character underwent some fine-tuning and later became the protagonist in “The Lincoln Lawyer” series. Haller was now depicted as being a child during his father’s illness. (At one point, Haller recollects being in trouble with his mother for some infraction, hiding from her to evade punishment. From his sickbed, Haller’s father croaks out a jingle familiar to any Con Law student, “In a pickle? Take the nickel.”)
The chronological revisions did nothing to diminish the fully-formed Mickey Haller, or the “Bosch Universe” storyline. Readers can look past an author’s shape-shifting when they’re rewarded with a compelling body of work like the “Lincoln Lawyer” series.
Your goal is to write characters who have real flesh-and-blood qualities. Hemingway said, “writers should create living people, not characters.” Living people grow and develop, so it follows that your written creations should grow as well. Happy Writing!
At one time or another, you’ve probably run across the aphorism, “Good writers are good readers.” It has been attributed to many people over time. Regardless of who coined the phrase, it's a sound observation.
After you’ve read “Red Sockets” the second or third time, I would like to share with you the names and brief information about the various mystery and crime writers whose work I admire and enjoy. Novelists whom you’ve probably never heard of. I encourage the uninitiated to read the novels by these authors. It would be a crime for their work to fade into complete obscurity. (See what I did there?)
Kinky Friedman
When I was in high school, my friend, Bill Toman, told me about a band he had discovered. Bill, a future nuclear engineer, was an endless source of esoteric, interesting, offbeat information and news. Particularly if it was music-related. I enjoy the offbeat and arcane, and I loved Bill for his revelations. I think Bill loved that he didn’t have to explain the humor in the things he told me about. He sometimes made me laugh until my stomach hurt. (He still does on occasion.)
We were high school seniors, sitting in the “quad”, and Bill said in his conspiratorial way, “I’ve been listening to a new band I came across.”
“Yeah?” I asked, already laughing, well, because it was a Bill story. He knew how to set up a story. The humor snuck up on you with a wallop. Like drinking mojitos. He still has the touch.
“Yeah,” he said, chortling away. “‘Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys’.”
Now, I defy you to not immediately guffaw when you hear the irony, cultural contradiction, irreverence and outright absurdity packed into the name of that band. We didn’t really discuss the songs all that much. The name of the frontman and band said it all. I’m laughing out loud as I write this fifty years after the discussion.
Fast-forward a few years. Kinky Friedman’s music career was running on fumes, so he turned his talents to detective fiction. He created a stylized version of himself and wrote stories about his being an under-employed musician who solved crimes in New York. I read a review of his first novel and remembered Bill's introduction of Friedman to me. How amused I was by Friedman's eclectic personality. I picked "Greenwich Killing Time" up more out of curiosity than the expectation of it being good.
My God, his novels are absolute masterpieces. Part serious, part neo-noir-parody, all genius. Friedman’s fictional self roams New York with same impertinent refusal to bow to convention as his real-life counterpart. He's aided by his trusty friend, “Ratso”, chomps on an ever-present Churchill cigar and deals out bon mots and deductions in equal measure.
I encourage you to read his first novel, “Greenwich Killing Time”. If you don’t devour the rest of his books after experiencing that joy ride … well, there’s just no hope for you.
Kinky Friedman left us a few months before the time of this writing. (He died in July, 2024.) I was disappointed by the scant media attention his passing received.
One of Kinky’s most-popular songs was, “They Ain’t Makin’ Jews Like Jesus Anymore”. They aren’t making musician-authors like Kinky Friedman anymore either. Check him out. Your only regret will be that you hadn’t discovered his mysteries sooner.
Charles Willeford
If I could do a “Vulcan Mind-Meld” with any mystery writer and come away with their innate talent to write a hardboiled crime novel, it would be Charles Willeford. I discovered him early and have never let go. I cannot overstate how good his work is.
Willeford was a fascinating man with a colorful life story. I could write more about him, but I’ll leave that to an acquaintance of mine who actually knew him: James Lee Burke. In 2007 (Yikes!) I sent JLB a note asking him about his friendship with Charles Willeford. JLB replied with a very gracious note, which I will reprint here verbatim:
Charles and I were good friends for many years. He was an extraordinary man. I wrote a tribute to him that is published I believe as the foreward to "I Was Looking for a Street." The latter is one of the best books ever written on the Great Depression and is almost totally ignored.
I admired Charles for his heroism as a soldier, his kindness as a man, his gentleness and intelligence and humility as an artist. I never knew anyone quite like him.
Check out "I Was Looking..." and stay in touch. I'm very happy you asked me about Charles.
Best,
Jim
(17 years later, and I still get goosebumps re-reading JLB’s note. You don’t need much of an imagination to hear notes of the voice he’s given to his most-famous character, Dave Robicheaux. I’d include JLB in this list, but I believe most readers already know all about his work. I wish I had ten dollars for every time I've recommended James Lee Burke’s novels to someone.)
Back to Charles Willeford. Unforgettable protagonists. Villains that will give you nightmares long after you’ve read the novel. A cast of quirky secondary characters that will have you laughing, then gasping with fright over the danger they’re unknowingly in.
Willeford’s most-enduring protagonist is Miami Detective Hoke Moseley. I could write page after page about the Moseley character, but the one thing that strikes me as so unique about the character is the whiplash-quick, spot-on decisiveness Willeford gives him. Problem. Solution. Just like that. Willeford doesn’t bother with a lot of extraneous words to explain Moseley’s thought processes. Moseley’s reaction to every challenge is so elegant and effective, it is its own crystal clear explanation. (Trust me. Read “Miami Blues”. You’ll see what I mean and be instantly hooked.)
The Hoke Moseley series is excellent as are all of Willeford’s stand-alone pieces. Even the novella, “Kiss Your Ass Goodbye”, (His original working title for “Miami Blues”) which was splintered off of his book, “The Shark-Infested Custard”, is unforgettable. The anti-hero is a “detail man”, which is a now-obscure reference to a salesman who introduces pharmaceuticals and related products to physicians and dentists.
A victim of Hannibal Lecter in “Silence of the Lambs” was described as a “detail man”, with no further elaboration. I’d like to think Tom Harris was paying tribute to Charles Willeford. Harris, like all of us, owe Willeford a debt of gratitude for giving us such marvelous work.
Margaret Millar
I should just say, “Read every Margaret Millar novel you can lay your hands on,” and leave it at that. But Millar’s work deserves more than a bombastic mandate like that. Ironically, Millar herself, with her rather eccentric personality, would probably issue that very kind of brusque directive.
Margaret Millar, a Canadian transplant who lived most of her life in Santa Barbara, left behind a body of work that is so compelling, I almost feel protective of it. Reluctant to pass it on to someone I don’t know.
Before turning her talent to full-time novel writing, Millar had a brief flirtation with Hollywood. She worked for a time as a screenwriter for Warners, who also optioned her novel, “The Iron Gates”. Her tenure in Tinseltown was just an eyeblink and she left almost no footprints behind. I read a letter she wrote to her husband about attending a screening of “To Have and Have Not”. She expressed great mirth and exasperation about Lauren Bacall. “The poor girl can’t act,” she wrote. I imagine that Millar, being rather impolitic her entire life, shared her opinion with the wrong people after the screening. Humphrey Bogart was the crown prince of Warners at that time and Bacall was soon to be his princess. Her candor may have been the reason for her short Hollywood career.
Millar won an Edgar Award for Best Novel for her mid-50’s novel, “Beast in View”. (I liked this novel so much, I have one of my “Red Sockets” characters in the midst of reading it.) Two more of her novels were nominated for the award. She also earned a Grand Masters Award from the Mystery Writers of America and was named “Woman of the Year” by the L.A. Times in 1965.
Complex characterization. Tight plot structure. Lively dialog. High suspense. Satisfying endings. Millar wrote mystery and suspense novels with first pages that snap shut on your ankle like a high-tension Conibear trap and never lets go. Margaret Millar never wrote a long-running series, but did repeat detective character appearances with three well-crafted heroes. (Paul Prye, Detective Sands and Tom Aragon) All three are unique and have their own voices. All three are great characters.
Margaret Millar was married to Kenneth Millar - known to most of us by his pen name, Ross Macdonald. They were equally-talented mystery writers, but Macdonald’s Lew Archer stories caught hold at a time when the country’s taste in mainstream fiction had shifted to a faster-paced, hipper style.
Being the less prominent of the two doesn’t mean Margaret Millar’s novels don’t hold up well against time. They do. Check her novels out. You’ll be an instant fan.
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