My part of the world, eastern Massachusetts, is in the midst
of a rough winter, with snow banks six feet high and more storms on the way.
But life doesn’t come to a halt, not if you have a dog. While I was out walking
our lab during the worst of the storm an idea for a story took shape. Those
high snow banks along the street or in the yard by the garage are the perfect
spot to hide a body. And no one thinks anything of a homeowner out snow-blowing
in the middle of the night. The streetlights reflect off the new white snow,
but not too much, and windows are shut tight against the cold and any noise.
This is how my stories usually begin, with a sudden
awareness of how dangerous the mundane can really be. During my regular visits
to South India, I always noted how things were changing and what remained the
same. There were always new shops, and that got me thinking. In a story
originally published in a Level Best Books anthology, a young woman opens a
shop, earning her own money and new independence. This doesn’t sit well with
some members of her family, and she soon ends up dead, in “The Secret of the
Pulluvan Drum.”
The first book in the Anita Ray series grew out of my first
breakfast in a new hotel/guesthouse. I was still exhausted from my trip to
India (twenty-plus hours on a plane) and too tired and jet-lagged to make small
talk. I listened half-awake to the other guests at the family-style dining
table, and was struck by how casual comments could be and yet carry threads of
danger. How could it be that so many of the guests were from the same part of
the United States but didn’t know each other? And why was one so hostile to one
stranger but not another? This is the opening of Under the Eye of Kali, the first Anita Ray mystery novel.
During the summer months I waste a lot of time trying to rid
my garden of invasive species, especially Lily of the Valley. I once stood in
front of a large side garden taken over by the poisonous flower, and marveled
that something so dangerous could be such an ordinary fact of life. That became
a key feature in a short story featuring Chief of Police Joe Silva and posted
on Wattpad as “Bad News with a Touch of Class.”
This is how my stories usually begin, with a sudden
awareness of how dangerous the mundane can really be. During my regular visits
to South India, I always noted how things were changing and what remained the
same. There were always new shops, and that got me thinking. In a story
originally published in a Level Best Books anthology, a young woman opens a
shop, earning her own money and new independence. This doesn’t sit well with
some members of her family, and she soon ends up dead, in “The Secret of the
Pulluvan Drum.”The first book in the Anita Ray series grew out of my first
breakfast in a new hotel/guesthouse. I was still exhausted from my trip to
India (twenty-plus hours on a plane) and too tired and jet-lagged to make small
talk. I listened half-awake to the other guests at the family-style dining
table, and was struck by how casual comments could be and yet carry threads of
danger. How could it be that so many of the guests were from the same part of
the United States but didn’t know each other? And why was one so hostile to one
stranger but not another? This is the opening of Under the Eye of Kali, the first Anita Ray mystery novel.During the summer months I waste a lot of time trying to rid
my garden of invasive species, especially Lily of the Valley. I once stood in
front of a large side garden taken over by the poisonous flower, and marveled
that something so dangerous could be such an ordinary fact of life. That became
a key feature in a short story featuring Chief of Police Joe Silva and posted
on Wattpad as “Bad News with a Touch of Class.”
It’s a truism that the world is a dangerous place, but for a
writer, it’s a reminder of the truth that opportunity is everywhere. Good
stories come out of turning the mundane on its head, seeing past the surface,
and asking, What if?
For these and other works by Susan Oleksiw, go to
My husband is always shaking his head at how I can look at a mundane situation and come up with a story idea. I think we writers have a more interesting life than others.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely, Maris. I think life must be very dull for most people. We writers make it interesting for them. Thanks for commenting.
ReplyDeleteOh, my goodness, I read the first part of your blog and instantly killed off someone and buried him/her in a snowbank. Heck, nobody'd ever find the corpse until the snow melted! That would give me time to move to Florida or something. Thanks, Susan! Now I'm kind of sorry I live in New Mexico, where it will snow and then instantly melt. Pooh.
ReplyDeleteRight now I'd love to be in New Mexico with your snow. But yes, our snowbanks are very tempting. Thanks for coming by.
ReplyDeleteSnowbanks are perfect for hiding a body! They're also useful for killing someone who is walking in the street because the sidewalks are covered in snow--having a vehicle ram him/her into a snowbank. If caught, the driver can try pleading bad night visibility, slipping on ice, etc. Gentle mystery writers like myself are always looking for a means to a kill.
ReplyDeleteI love that means of murder, Rosemary. It's a great idea because then there's no need to bury a body or come up with an alibi. I can't say I think it's a gentle means of killing someone, but definitely a good way to get the job done without worrying about weapons, witnesses, and alibis. Thanks for giving us more ideas.
ReplyDeleteVery clever, Susan. Just had another writer comment on my blog about using an icicle as a murder weapon--curiously, another New Englander. You're a dangerous lot.
ReplyDeletePerhaps murder is the New Englander's reaction to extreme weather. We could certainly test it out this winter. I enjoyed your post on setting, and remember seeing the icicle comment.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Susan. You're right, the mundane can offer us so many ideas. In fact, I need one now. LOL Guess I'd better start paying more attention to the little things.
ReplyDeleteMarja McGraw
I look forward to hearing what you come up with, Marja. The comments section alone has produced two modes of murder as well as means of disposing of the body. Put out an idea and we're sure to find others ready to add to it. Thanks for stopping by.
ReplyDelete