Goodreads has declared May 1 – 7 “Mystery and Thriller Week.” Since my most recent writings come within that broad category, I approve. However, I did have some difficulty answering GR’s “special” Mystery and Thriller Week Ask the Author question:
“What mystery in your own life could be a plot for a book?” My immediate response: Define mystery. Nevertheless, to get into the spirit of things I attempted an answer. But on reflection, I deleted my answer and skipped the question. Here’s what I wrote, with an explanation of why I dumped it.

“Many years ago, I struck up a casual acquaintance with a female co-worker. She was several years older than me, attractive and friendly. One day we were having lunch together in the cafeteria, making work related small talk, when she started telling me a story about her step-father. At least, I think it was her step-father. My memory’s hazy on that particular; it was a long time ago. Anyway, as I recall, she claimed the old man owed her money from an inheritance, and she seemed to be soliciting my advice or help in getting what she believed she was owed. This talk made me uncomfortable. After all, we were just office pals. Why confide in me and seek my aid in something that personal? So, I cut her off and said, “I think you need a good lawyer.” She appeared disappointed, and she stopped talking. Not long after, she quit her job. I never saw nor heard from her again.

A year or so later, I read about a murder case involving my former co-worker. Apparently, she found a guy who was willing to kill the old man for a share in the money. People in the office who knew her couldn’t believe it. At least, that’s what we said. But I couldn’t forget that conversation in the cafeteria. She never explicitly suggested anything criminal to me, or even improper, but I sensed something rotten. At the time, I was working as a credit fraud investigator. Maybe I just didn’t like casual acquaintances airing their dirty laundry and pumping me for free advice. Anyway, her approach didn’t pass my smell test. In retrospect, I can only assume she was feeling me out, a preliminary audition for the role of her partner in crime. Thankfully, I didn’t get past round one. As for the poor guy who did, I’m reminded of the famous line from James M. Cain’s “Double Indemnity”: “Yes, I killed him. I killed him for money - and a woman - and I didn't get the money and I didn't get the woman.”” No indeed; he got the Big Sleep, courtesy of the state.”

The above might make for a good noir story, but I don’t write noir. I write historical police procedurals/mysteries. I also like hard-boiled detective fiction. I appreciate noir, but for the most part, it’s not my thing.

Otto Penzler wrote an excellent post for The Huffington blog (Aug. 10, 2010) in which he made a distinction between the hard-boiled detective genre and its cousin, noir fiction:
“…noir is about losers. The characters in these existential, nihilistic tales are doomed. They may not die, but they probably should, as the life that awaits them is certain to be so ugly, so lost and lonely, that they’d be better off just curling up and getting it over with. And, let’s face it, they deserve it.
Pretty much everyone in a noir story (or film) is driven by greed, lust, jealousy or alienation, a path that inevitably sucks them into a downward spiral from which they cannot escape. They couldn’t find the exit from their personal highway to hell if flashing neon lights pointed to a town named Hope. It is their own lack of morality that blindly drives them to ruin.”

What we think of as noir might have developed from hard-boiled detective fiction, but there’s a distinct difference. The detective isn’t a total loser—he won’t commit a serious crime for money, a woman, or anything else. He’s not totally motivated by greed, lust, jealousy or alienation. He’s occasionally tempted to crime, but he won’t cross that line. Deep down, he has a moral core. Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade is a prime example. In “The Maltese Falcon” Spade is tempted by a femme fatale (lust) and the elusive gold and gem encrusted bird (greed). But, when push comes to shove, he won’t play the sap for the femme fatale. She murdered his partner, and she’s taking the fall. As for the falcon, it’s an illusion—and a MacGuffin, to boot.*

Modern noir may have grown out of hard-boiled detective fiction, but it doesn’t begin sometime around 1930. Stories about human weaknesses, or sin, and its consequences are present in all ages and cultures; they’re archetypal stories. In Judeo-Christian culture Adam, Eve and the serpent are noir characters, God is the law and his angels with flaming swords are the cops.

So, there it is. I didn’t answer GR’s Mystery Week Special Question about some “mystery” in my life that could have formed the basis for a plot in a book, because the first thing that came to mind wasn’t a “mystery.” Instead, it was an incident from my distant past that might have gone wrong if I’d been naturally inclined to “play the sap.” It might also explain why I admire some noir fiction, but I don’t choose to write it.


*MacGuffin: Alfred Hitchcock’s term for a plot device that propels the action, the nature of which is not essential to the storyline. The MacGuffin is something, for example a gold, gem encrusted statue, the characters will lie, cheat, steal, betray, seduce or kill for.