Past the point of no return
Open letter to my next (fictional) victim: sorry, but there’ll be no midnight call from the governor granting you a last-minute reprieve. Despite the fact that an interview subject helpfully suggested not long ago that I change my intent (because a similar victim was featured in a 20-year-old mystery novel), I’ve decided against it.
In other words, you’re still toast.
Now I know I haven’t started actually writing my second book yet. But I’ve already filled a notebook (and some of my trusty whiteboard) with character profiles, suspects, motives, clues, and the beginnings of a plot outline. I’ve got the bones of the story – and if I can write it properly, it should be a good one.
I tried to spare your life – I really did. For over a week, on my lengthy commute to and from work, I imagined different scenarios, different victims, different motives. In the end though, I always came back to the original story. (Well, okay, it wasn’t quite the original story – I changed it a lot from the one I started out with – I gave a lot of thought to the question of why someone would want to kill you.)
To quote a banal pop song, “you’re still the one.” My apologies. But in a murder mystery, someone has to die, right? I guess you just pulled the short straw this time.