Why did you choose to write mysteries, particularly historical mysteries?
When I’m asked why I write mysteries, sometimes I think the easiest answer is: I was born to write them. It’s programmed in my DNA. Part of me actually believes that, too. I’m fascinated by the nature versus nurture debate. In my experience, a lot more seems to be nature than is comfortable to admit.
For example, I got my first field guide for birds when I was six. That year, I also wrote my first story about a germ’s adventures as it passed through a little girl’s belly, presaging my interest in both writing and biology. After I got married and built my first chicken coop, I discovered one of my ancestors in the 17th century was an “egg man” and raised chickens. Was an interest in birds and biology in my blood? Certainly, as your standard suburban child, raising chickens and bird watching were not your standard pursuits or things my parents taught us to do (nurture).
Many of us discover our preferences at an amazingly early age. I was also in the first grade when I read my first mysteries: “The Ghost Rock Mystery” and “The Ghost of Dibble Hollow”. Then, I went on to Tom Swift books and other mysteries. Lucky for me, I grew up during the height of the gothic mystery. I still can’t resist a book that has a spooky castle and a woman in a diaphanous white dress on the cover. My favorites included the likes of Victoria Holt, Virginia Coffman, Mary Stewart and Barbara Michaels.
When I picked up the pen again ten years ago, I couldn’t conceive of a story that did not include a mystery of some kind. Sometimes it’s not a murder, but a secret or something lost, hidden. A missing jewel, an old secret, something half-forgotten. It is the mystery and process of discovering that answer that creates a story for me.
Why did the crime happen? How will the hero or heroine follow the clues to reveal the truth? What is the truth? One of the things that fascinates me is the idea of “The Truth.” Is there really a single truth or is it a composite of many truths—what an individual knows and experiences of reality? In “The Vital Principle” the hero, Knighton Gaunt believes there is one, discoverable truth. Prudence Barnard, however, believes it may be more nuanced with shades of gray. She is more sympathetic to the weaknesses and foibles of those around her, but despite their different approaches, they do discover the truth and reveal a murderer in their midst.
While resolving the core puzzle is interesting, I also write mysteries to explore how different characters respond to stress and make decisions. How do they react when confronted with a mystery? Do they attempt to collect facts and analyze them, or do they rely on a more intuitive process? Or do they simply ignore the entire thing and hope it will go away?
In “A Rose Before Dying” the hero is driven to collect the facts—in this case, roses—to try to save his uncle from the hangman’s noose. And while Ariadne just wants to be left alone to grow roses, she can’t bury her head in the sand. She helps him even though her actions place her in the murderer’s path.
In the end, there is nothing like a good mystery to reveal what a person—or character--is made of, and it’s the character this makes the story.
Amy's Bio
Amy Corwin is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America and recently joined Mystery Writers of America. She has been writing for the last ten years. She writes historical and cozy mysteries. To be truthful, most of her books include a bit of murder and mayhem since she discovered that killing off at least one character is a highly effective way to make the remaining ones toe the plot line.
Amy’s books include the three Regency romantic mysteries, I BID ONE AMERICAN, THE BRICKLAYER’S HELPER, and THE NECKLACE; Regency mysteries, THE VITAL PRINCIPLE, and A ROSE BEFORE DYING; and her first cozy mystery, WHACKED!, will come in in 2012 from Five Star.
Join her and discover that every good romance has a touch of mystery.
Website: http://www.amycorwin.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/amycorwin
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AmyCorwinAuthor
Blog: http://amycorwin.blogspot.com
Book Links
The Vital Principe: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004OR1GQ2/
A Rose Before Dying: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00557U2QU/
The Bricklayer’s Helper: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B003YCPLP0/
I Bid One American: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B001ASJTLC/
The Necklace: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004I6D2PC/
Showing posts with label historical mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical mystery. Show all posts
Friday, October 14, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Vital Principle by Amy Corwin
Buy Links:
B&N: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Vital-Principle/Amy-Corwin/e/2940012291776?itm=1&USRI=the%20vital%20principle
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004OR1GQ2/
The Vital Principle - Backcover
In 1815, an inquiry agent, Mr. Knighton Gaunt, is asked by Lord Crowley to attend a séance with the express purpose of revealing the spiritualist as a fraud. When the séance ends abruptly, Lord Crowley is poisoned during the turmoil by an unseen killer.
Gaunt is now left to investigate not only fraud, but murder. Suspicion turns first to the spiritualist, Miss Prudence Barnard, but as Gaunt digs deeper into the twisted history of the guests at Rosecrest, he discovers more deadly secrets. Inevitably, long-time friends turn against one another as the tension mounts, and Gaunt is challenged to separate fact from fiction before another death at Rosecrest.
The Vital Principle is the first mystery in the Second Sons Inquiry Agency series and features coolly intellectual Mr. Knighton Gaunt, the agency’s founder. This witty, historical whodunit in the tradition of Bruce Alexander’s Blind Justice, will keep you guessing until the unexpected end.
“Murder, mystery, and a dash of romance combined with witty dialogue and unforgettable characters make The Vital Principle a book that will definitely go on my keeper shelf!” —Lilly Gayle, author of Into the Darkness and Slightly Tarnished.
Excerpt
As if aware of her scrutiny, Mr. Gaunt edged closer. He spoke in low tones no one else could hear. “You’re very composed, Miss Barnard.”
“For a murderess? Would tears avail me? Or convince anyone of my innocence?”
“They might. A woman’s tears are often most efficacious.”
“Except when the decision has already been made. A trial seems almost superfluous, doesn’t it?” Her voice was low and biting with anger. A deep feeling of ill-use made it difficult for her to remain calm.
“No one has accused you,” Mr. Gaunt replied. “And if you had a hand in this, you’ll get a fair hearing.”
“Then you do think I murdered Lord Crowley? What possible motive could I have had?”
“For one thing, you didn’t seem pleased when he requested my attendance tonight.”
“I didn’t arrange this entertainment, the dowager did. And it appears to me, the mystery should be why I murdered Lord Crowley instead of simply doing away with you. If you believe I was so upset by your presence.” Frustration and fear compressed her stomach into a cold lump.
“You knew why he asked me here,” he stated flatly.
“Really? Why? Pray enlighten me. I’m all agog to hear.”
“To prove you’re a fraud taking advantage of an elderly widow.”
“Taking advantage? By reassuring the poor dear that whatever silly misdemeanor she believes she committed before her husband died is unimportant? How is that taking advantage of her?”
“You’re better qualified to answer that particular question than I. But I’m sure it’s profitable.”
“Profitable?” She laughed bitterly. When the other men glanced at her, she put her hand over her mouth and turned her inappropriate laughter into a cough. “If you call a frusty little room and a few meals profitable. I’m a guest here, nothing more.” Then she added with a coldly sweet smile, “Guests aren’t paid. Or weren’t you aware of that?”
“So kindness was your only motivation?” His black eyes bored into hers. “How can we trust what you say when you conduct these ridiculous entertainments and pretend to speak to the dead?”
She arched a mocking eyebrow. “What makes you think I can’t?”
“Come now. You can’t expect me to believe you’re capable of communicating with the spirit world. Or that you even believe such a thing is possible.”
“I believe there are many things we don’t understand. I refuse to close my mind to the possibility simply because it’s difficult to prove,” she temporized, knowing only too well the dangers of trying to argue about spirit communications.
If there wasn’t a spirit world, then she’d be forced to acknowledge that she was a complete fraud. And even though she hadn't, yet, reached that unseen world and had used a number of tricks to suggest that she had, she always hoped that one day some apparition might answer her call. There was always the possibility.
Mr. Gaunt smiled and his expression grew even more sardonic. “Then let’s be more specific and examine what we can prove. Did you speak to the dowager’s previous husband?”
“Perhaps not this evening. However, I’m sure the words I wrote were what he would have relayed, if he could have done so.”
“So you lied—”
“No, I merely—”
“It was not the truth!” His lips thinned and anger ignited a slow burning fire in his eyes. “Her husband did not speak through you. Admit it.”
She tilted her head to one side, examining him. “Do you believe her husband did not love her?”
“I have no idea. That’s not the point.”
“Then you don’t know if it was the truth or not.” She offered, instinctively knowing the men would tear her apart like a pack of hungry dogs if she reacted emotionally. Her mind raced ahead, abnormally clear, encased in the fragile ice of logic that could shatter at any moment and leave her raging at their accusations. “And it eased the dowager’s mind. So I fail to see I did anything wrong.”
Mr. Gaunt said, “You mislead—”
“No. I told a desperately lonely woman what she needed to hear. That’s the sum of it. There are many truths. You have yours. I have mine.”
“There is only one truth.”
“Nonsense.” She folded her hands at her waist and turned partially away, unable to bear the intense scrutiny of his hard eyes. Her fingers felt stiff and icy with fear. “I refuse to discuss this any further. It’s futile. You’ll believe what you wish. If you chose not to trust me, then so be it. But regardless of what you think, I did not kill Lord Crowley.”
* * * * *
Thank you--
Amy Corwin
http://www.amycorwin.com/
http://amycorwin.blogspot.com/
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