Out of all the movies and tv that I love to watch, my favourite genre is Crime, particularly Murder Mystery.
My imagination is piqued and there’s the challenge of working against the clock – can I uncover the murderer before the end of the program?
I’m not really not that bright!
But my interest doesn’t finish with the celluloid version of the macabre. I’m partial to a good read as well. The whole notion of pacing yourself, doubling back a few pages to check a fact, ‘just’ reading to the end of the chapter . . . . builds the already tense nature of the writing.
More times than not, I have to read a Murder Mystery from start to finish, in one shot.
I might try the old
“I’ll put it down after this chapter”,
“Ok after THIS chapter”,
“I’ll read until the next hour”.
I’m really not very tough on myself.
PLUS . . . . I have to KNOW!
I mean seriously,
how could I even think about sleep when the mystery is still open?
and this is a big ‘but’.
There is one vexing element to my whole obsession with the darkness of the genre.
What kind of person loves murder?
I mean, I can admit that over time I have had some unsavoury thoughts about this person or that, people who had really done me wrong – but on the whole I’m an even-tempered and moderate person.
So what draws me to grisly nature of murder?
Is it purely about the mystery?
These questions remind me of an interview I read where Stephen King was discussing his many creations and years of publishing amazing works of horror. The essence of the characters and the need to purge his mind of never ending scenarios. He’s a Horror Savant.
In the interview he responded to a criticism that he must somehow be ‘sick’ to create the monsters in his novels. He was asked, how could a ‘normal’ person, imagine such things?
And he responded (in kind),
“I’m not nearly as sick as the people who buy them”.
I am well aware that Stephen King is not a Murder Mystery novelist,
he is in fact a genius of Horror.
Pure and utter, Horror : )