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.
Was the apology at the end for doing in your victim, or for putting that song irretrievably into the brains of your blog readers?
At first, I thought the song you had stuck in your head was “Past the Point of No Return” from Phantom (and I was planning to give you no end of grief about that) – then I realized it was “Still the One.” If it’s any consolation, “Still the One” is in my brain too now!