BESTSELLERS & BEST FRIENDS
My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.
If this is your first visit, be sure to start with “1. Let’s do it!”
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Detective Josephine Rocco agreed to see me.
I explained. All those killings, well, just happened. They weren’t murders.
Tom was actually killed by some unknown driver. Orlando actually jumped off his roof, he wasn’t pushed. Harris was actually run off the road, it happens. Linda was actually strangled when she was mugged. And Tony actually overdosed, which is sadly is not an uncommon thing.
Detective Rocco nodded. “All the evidence supports that. Go on.”
“Every one of those submissions was delivered — not mailed — to the publisher, right? There’re no envelopes with a postdate on them, right?”
She nodded.
“So this crazed writer just waits for somebody in the publishing industry to die, then he—”
“Or she.”
“Yep, could be. But can I just use ‘he?’ Please. Before I lose track here.”
“Go ahead, this isn’t an official statement.” The expression on her face never changed. Solid. Fixed. Unrevealing.
I continued, “So when he hears of a death in the book business, he quickly writes one of his awful little mysteries, and — now this is key — postdates the cover letter, and — this too is key — hand delivers it to a publisher.
That way, it looks like the mystery was written before the publishing person’s death.
But it wasn’t! It’s written after their death!”
I paused.
“Go on,” she nodded.
“The insane plan — or whatever you want to call it — kicked in when the Macmillan intern happened to read the one about Tom Hoza’s death. Scores of other submissions could have been tossed without ever being opened or read. Then the Orlando one happened just days after Tom’s. That one too just happened to have been read. And suddenly, boom! — in this little industry, the news travels like crazy. The police get involved, every house is looking at its unsolicited submissions, the whole mess erupts. But nobody’s been murdered!”
Quiet.
Some more quiet.
Then she said, “I think you’re onto something. Pretty smart for an annoying blogger.”
I jumped up. “I did it! I did it! I solved it!” I spun around and raised my arms in a Rocky-inspired pose. “Woo-hoo for me! I’m a top-notch crime solver!”
Rocco, not even a smile. That hard look. Then she threatened, “If you even think of writing a crime blog, I’ll find reason to arrest you. Now get out of here. I’m done. No crime was committed.”
I went home and typed this.
And now to you, you weirdo. I know you read these entries. It’s over! Go away. Quit writing those stupid publishing mysteries.
Tomorrow: Luckily, thankfully, I’m off to London