Algonkian Assignment 1.docx

Hello! Below are my answers to the exercises for my YA speculative coming-of-age novel. Looking forward to meeting you all! -Stephanie Perry Moore 1) STORY STATEMENT Seventeen-year-old Skye Blue, pulled into a magical family chronicle, must survive the lives of her ancestors and return to mend herself—and a community fractured by violence. 2) THE ANTAGONIST Sweetness—Skye's boyfriend, whose charm and charisma drew her in but conceal a darker reality. Raised in a rough neighborhood with few resources, Sweetness has always admired Skye's more stable, affluent background. Yet, instead of feeling uplifted by her, he feels belittled and resentful, viewing Skye's family and potential as constant reminders of what he believes he can never have. His jealousy twists into a possessive need to keep her close, convinced that controlling her will balance the disparity he feels. Sweetness is verbally abusive, belittling Skye’s dreams and academic efforts to make her question her worth and discourage her from leaving. His life is steeped in dangerous affiliations, leading a gang that makes him more threatening. He perceives Skye’s independence and ambitions as personal slights against him, responding with intimidation and manipulation, fueled by both fear of losing her and his need to maintain control. Driven by his own insecurities, Sweetness becomes an anchor pulling Skye deeper into his world. His ultimate goal is to possess and restrict her, keeping her as a symbol of his success. However, in doing so, he becomes the force that Skye must ultimately break free from to find her own strength and freedom. “With a gun cocked in his mouth, he had to back down!” “What?” I blinked, gripping the steering wheel tighter as Sweetness, my rugged, gangbanger boyfriend, repeated himself through the car’s speaker. His voice was low, almost amused, like he wasn’t talking about something terrifying. Sweetness. He lived up to his name—dark chocolate skin, smooth and irresistible. Girls joked he was better than a box of candy. At 5′8″, just a touch taller than me, his confidence commanded attention. His energy—wild, unpredictable—wrapped around me like a storm. His reckless laughter and fast living had me hooked, but lately, it felt more like a noose tightening around my neck. “Dang, dummy. You even listenin’, Skye?” Sweetness’s voice cracked like thunder, jolting me from my thoughts. I pulled my mom’s car into a spot at Tea Time, a cozy, upscale restaurant in Covington, Georgia. This place—this moment—was my refuge. Normally, I couldn’t wait to sit across from my grandmother and unravel the knots in my life. Today, though, the weight on my shoulders felt too heavy to unload. “I was saying, I had a dream last night,” Sweetness continued. “This dude tried to holla at you, so I put my piece in his mouth to shut him up.” My stomach twisted. I couldn’t do this with him. He was mean. He was crazy, but so was I for staying with him. It wasn’t just the draining week at my private school, with fake friends and haters dragging me down. It wasn’t just the sleepless nights haunted by a recurring nightmare. It was the suffocating possessiveness in Sweetness’ voice—like my life was his to control. And now, he was fantasizing about violence over something that didn’t even happen. A beep interrupted him—Jessie, my best friend, calling. Relief washed over me. “I gotta go. Jessie’s calling, and I’m here. Can’t keep Grandma waiting,” I said, my voice strained but firm. “Cool,” Sweetness replied, his tone lightening. “Swing by after. We can Netflix and chill like last night.” I sighed, pressing the button to switch calls, still tripping that he called me dummy and wondering if I’d ever feel the same tug toward him again. 3) TITLE CHOICES Here are three breakout title options, each reflecting Skye’s journey of legacy, inner strength, and the challenges she faces: When Time Comes – This title reflects the pivotal moments Skye encounters, where she must rise to challenges and decide her path, echoing the legacy she inherits. Chains of Legacy – This title hints at Skye’s journey to confront and honor her family’s past, as she learns from ancestral struggles to shape her own freedom and identity. Echoes of Freedom – A powerful nod to Skye’s experiences of both historical and present-day struggles, as she hears and learns from the echoes of her ancestors to find her own voice and courage. These titles evoke Skye’s evolving relationship with her heritage and her determination to break through constraints in her life. 4) GENRE AND COMPARABLES Here are strong comparables for my YA novel, When Time Comes, that help convey its themes, genre blend, and target readership effectively: A Song Below Water by Bethany C. Morrow (2020) – Like When Time Comes, this YA novel centers on Black female characters discovering their identities and histories, with Morrow’s story weaving fantasy and social themes. A Song Below Water combines magical elements with real-world issues, much like Skye’s journey through time to learn from her ancestors while confronting modern struggles. This connection illustrates Skye’s world of layered realities, where her heritage provides insight and empowerment to navigate her life. Kindred by Octavia Butler (1979) – While originally an adult novel, Kindred has inspired YA audiences and even adaptations due to its profound impact. This novel offers a similar combination of time travel, ancestral legacy, and the confronting of historical injustices, making it an ideal comp for When Time Comes. Skye’s experience parallels Butler’s heroine as she learns firsthand from her ancestors’ challenges, drawing strength and perspective to change her present reality. The Light in Hidden Places by Sharon Cameron (2020) – This popular YA historical novel explores the bravery of a young girl standing up to violence and oppression in Nazi-occupied Poland. Like Skye, the protagonist grapples with life-and-death stakes while drawing strength from her moral compass and connections with others. Cameron’s novel demonstrates how historical legacy and personal bravery converge, resonating with Skye’s mission to confront and mend her community’s conflicts. The Davenports by Krystal Marquis (2023) – This historical YA novel follows a young Black woman in early 20th-century Chicago, balancing family expectations and societal constraints. Like When Time Comes, it explores complex identity, family legacy, and navigating expectations. Though different in era, The Davenports shares themes of self-discovery and the strength to confront the past for a better future, aligning well with Skye’s journey. These comparisons capture the tone, cultural depth, and mix of speculative and historical elements in When Time Comes, while also showing how it fits into the YA landscape for contemporary readers. 5) HOOK LINE AND CORE WOUND Hook Line: Struggling between private school alienation and a toxic relationship, seventeen-year-old Skye Blue is pulled into a magical family chronicle, where ancestral lessons push her to confront her fears—or risk being trapped in a cycle of violence. Core Wound: Skye struggles with a deep-seated fear of inadequacy and failure, believing that she will never live up to her friends and family’s expectations or her own dreams, a belief compounded by the pressures of her boyfriend’s manipulations and the societal limitations placed on her by being a black girl in a majority white school. This internal wound propels her on a journey through time, teaching her that survival, courage, and freedom are attainable only by facing her fears and embracing her inner strength. 6) CONFLICT AND ENVIRONMENT Inner Conflict: Skye’s insecurities stem from feeling like she doesn’t fully belong anywhere—not in the affluent world of her private school and not in the turbulent neighborhood where she lives. Struggling with the weight of her identity as a young Black woman, she’s caught between wanting to break free from the toxic relationship with Sweetness and her fear of the unknown without him. Skye dreams of making an impact, of bridging divides and standing for something bigger, yet she doubts if she’s strong enough to step into that role. The violence and challenges in her world shake her resolve, and she’s often left questioning her self-worth and ability to act. Hypothetical Scenario: After the gang shootout where Zion steps in and is critically injured saving her, Skye is shaken by his selflessness. Zion, who is mixed-race and embodies a quiet strength, fearlessly acted to protect her in a way that she’s never felt able to do for herself. Returning home, she’s haunted by the image of him lying in blood and thinks of her own hesitance to leave Sweetness despite his control over her. Later, as she reads the family chronicle, she sees the bravery of her ancestors who faced down adversity for freedom and justice. These reflections make Skye question if she could ever do the same in her time—could she stand up like Zion did for her, or like her ancestors did in the face of injustice? Within seconds, the air exploded with gunfire. Crack! Crack! Crack! The hill was alive with chaos. The Bricks scattered, shouting. Bullets zipped past me, but I was frozen in fear. Two guys dropped in front of me, one’s head blown open. Everywhere, Bricks fell, moaning, crying, cursing. They called for their mothers or God. “Skye, get down!” Sweetness hollered, his voice echoing like a shout across a battlefield. Suddenly, a tall guy—over six feet—charged toward me. He tackled me, shielding me with his body. My head hit the pavement, and my vision blurred. I tried to grab my pounding head, but my arms were pinned beneath him. I struggled to focus. His almond-shell skin and straight hair that curled at the tips caught my eye. He weighed at least 200 pounds. Who was this guy? His grey-blue eyes stared at me, full of concern, but he didn’t speak. “I’m okay,” I whispered, winded from the impact. I was about to tell him to get off when I felt warm, wet liquid seeping through my clothes. Blood. It surged from his side where a bullet had torn through him. Desperate, I twisted and squirmed, finally managing to push him off. I yanked off his shoes, grabbed his socks, and pressed them against the wound. But it was too late—the socks were soaked, and the life had already drained from his eyes. The gunfire stopped, and the Lincoln peeled away, its passengers laughing. Sweetness ran to me, grabbing my bloody hand, trying to pull me up. “No!” I cried. “I can’t leave him! He saved my life!” “My boys ’bout to get Clad. Come on, girl. Let’s go!” Sweetness yanked me up, half carrying me as we moved away. But I didn’t want to leave the stranger who had saved me. His life couldn’t just be forgotten. I glanced back at his lifeless body and saw a tattoo on his arm: Zion Hill. “Thank you, Zion Hill,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. His body lay there, lifeless and blood soaked. Social Environment: Skye’s social conflict is rooted in feeling like she doesn’t belong fully in either world she inhabits or in the ones she time-travels to. At her private school, she’s seen as an outsider among wealthy white students who leave her out because she is not “one of them.” With Sweetness, she’s treated as a liability rather than an equal, and his gang sees her as an outsider who will never truly be part of their world. In contrast, when she time-travels, she encounters Zion, who moves with confidence and intelligence, bridging gaps and standing up for what he believes in. His ability to fit in without conforming inspires Skye, making her wonder if she should follow his example in the present day and stand up for herself, despite the pressure and rejection from both sides. Hypothetical Scenario: After returning from 1780, Skye learns about another gang fight brewing and wrestles with whether she should try to intervene. Drawing on her experience with Zion’s strength and the resolve of her ancestors, she decides to try to prevent another confrontation by urging the gangs toward a truce. Her emotional appeal surprisingly reaches the gang members, convincing them to hold off on violence temporarily. However, when the police arrive, tension flares, and an argument with Gooch ends in him being shot. Skye is horrified, realizing that despite her best efforts, the cycle of violence extends beyond her influence. 7) SETTINGS Setting of When Time Comes Skye’s journey unfolds in Covington, Georgia, where contrasting environments sharpen her sense of belonging and courage. From her safe but unsettling bedroom to the gritty reality of Sweetness’ world, and on through time itself, these settings reflect the internal and external challenges Skye faces as she uncovers her heritage and finds her own strength. Contemporary Settings: Her Home & Bedroom: Skye’s bedroom is a cozy refuge with a mix of upscale decor—string lights, soft blankets, and family mementos. This sanctuary becomes a space of fear and transformation when the family chronicle begins pulling her into the past. The bed shakes, lights flicker, and the room’s warmth fades, replaced by an ominous energy that marks the start of each time-travel experience, mirroring Skye’s own shift from safety to uncertainty as she delves into her family’s history. Grandmother’s Hospital Room: In contrast to Skye’s dynamic bedroom, GG’s hospital room is cool and calming, with pale blue walls, dim lighting, and the rhythmic beeping of monitors. Despite its clinical feel, the room is where Skye finds comfort, receiving guidance and life lessons from her grandmother. Here, Skye’s love for GG merges with a growing understanding of her family’s legacy, fueling her desire to honor her heritage and face her fears. Tea Time Café: The Victorian tea house, Tea Time, in downtown Covington is a nostalgic escape for Skye and GG. Decorated with floral wallpaper, delicate china, and old-world charm, it’s a place of warmth where they can be themselves. As Skye’s conversations with GG become more intense, this setting shifts from a quaint refuge to a space where family secrets are unearthed, adding depth and tension to their relationship. Her Private School: Skye’s exclusive, predominantly white private school is pristine and immaculately kept, with manicured lawns and polished buildings. But behind this orderly facade, Skye feels judged and alienated. Her background, race, and financial status place her on the periphery, making this setting a battleground for her insecurities and sense of self-worth. She struggles to fit in, feeling like an outsider among classmates who subtly exclude her, amplifying her inner conflict. Sweetness’ Neighborhood: A gritty contrast to Skye’s suburban life, Sweetness’ neighborhood is defined by graffiti-covered buildings, dilapidated apartments, and a pervasive sense of desolation. This area represents the social and emotional risks Skye takes by staying in her relationship with Sweetness. It’s a backdrop for gang conflicts, volatile interactions, and moments of physical danger, underscoring the tension between her desire for stability and the turmoil Sweetness brings into her life. We pulled up to Sweetness’ apartment complex. Graffiti covered the building, slurs and symbols sprayed like part of the architecture. The landscape was dead—just patches of beige stubble. One side of the complex was a crumbling building used as a crack house, addicts shuffling in and out like zombies. The other side was a burnt-out, windowless shell that attracted squatters and crime. Everything screamed decay, as if waiting for a bulldozer to put it out of its misery. Historical and Magical Sub-settings Through Time Travel: 1780 Savannah Slave Auction Dock: Skye arrives in a chaotic, humid slave market where auctioneers shout and enslaved people are treated as commodities. Here, she encounters Zion, whose resilience and quiet strength spark her admiration. This setting forces Skye to confront the brutal realities of her ancestors’ past, helping her understand the strength it took for them to endure, survive, and hope. Moments later, I stood in complete stillness and silence. No wind whipping around; no wings flapping. I opened my eyes. Instead of my bedroom, I found myself in the middle of a dusty, sunbaked road stretching through a small, worn town. The buildings on either side were rough-hewn, with weathered wood that had turned gray under the relentless sun, and each bore a large, faded sign announcing its purpose. There was a bank with iron-barred windows, a small grocery store with barrels of goods by the door, a saloon with swinging doors barely hanging on their hinges, and a millinery shop that left me wondering, What the heck was a millinery shop? The air was thick and dry, tinged with the earthy scent of hay, animal sweat, and the faint, metallic whiff of horse tack. People dressed in plain, faded clothes walked along the street, moving between buildings or standing beside their horses and buggies. But the entire town appeared frozen in time. Horses with bridles dangling, mid-neigh with heads thrown back; dust clouds kicked up by wheels and hooves hung suspended in the air like delicate, brown fog. A flag that had been waving in the breeze outside the saloon was caught in an upswing, locked in place. An eerie silence clung to the air, intensifying the stillness. It felt as though I’d stepped into a painting or a story paused at the turn of a page. Clutching my feathers tightly, I called out, “What am I supposed to do?” My voice sounded hollow against the motionless scene, and though I hoped someone somewhere could hear me, there was no answer—only silence, as if the world of 1780 itself was waiting. 1850 Underground Railroad Stop in the Woods: Hidden in the shadows of dense Georgia forests, Skye experiences a hideout used by the Underground Railroad. The earthy smells and secluded quiet contrast with the constant threat of capture. Zion’s confidence in navigating this world inspires Skye, revealing to her that bravery often requires stepping outside her comfort zone. 1958 Plantation and Bus Stop during Jim Crow: Skye lands in the segregated South, experiencing the sharp divide between the white plantation and the humble quarters for Black workers. Witnessing Rosa Parks’ defiance at a bus stop gives Skye a firsthand view of courage in the face of injustice, while Zion’s unwavering stand for his beliefs challenges her to embody similar strength in her own time. The Magical River Escape: Each time Skye’s journey becomes too dangerous, she finds herself at a magical river, an ethereal haven where eclectic guides—an eagle, a horse, and a lioness—help her regroup, survive, and recharge. This serene yet mystical setting, with shimmering waters and dense trees cloaked in mist, symbolizes Skye’s subconscious, where she taps into newfound courage and determination. Each guide offers her a life lesson, showing her paths forward while helping her understand the strength she carries within. Each setting in When Time Comes is integral to Skye’s growth. From the safety of her bedroom to the dangers of Sweetness’ world and the harrowing historical landscapes of her ancestors’ lives, each place propels her toward self-discovery. Through these environments, she learns to embody the courage of her ancestors, embracing her family legacy while forging her own path forward.

1. Story statement: A twist of fate lands police administrative assistant Eva Brandt at the scene of a double murder, upending the safe life she has built since escaping the extremist sect led by her wealthy, charismatic father ten years ago. 2. The antagonist: Eva’s powerful father Walter Brandt is tired of having to secretly undermine Eva’s struggle to build a life outside his far-right sect, Tannenberg. He considers Eva--despite being female--the best equipped of his 3 children to take over leadership of the cult. Walter inherited control from his own father, and building a blood dynasty is of paramount importance to him, but his older son vanished and he considers his younger son inferior. Until now, Walter has considered Eva’s past disloyalty unforgivable, but her position just inside the murder investigation gives her opportunity to eliminate Walter’s enemy, Sergeant Ron Croft, a supposed member of Tannenberg who, Walter knows, is in fact working undercover, investigating the money laundering scheme Walter runs through wineries owned by primary murder suspect, dissolute inebriate Ken Furey. Walter plots to return Eva to his control, using every tool in his malignant narcissist’s playbook to gaslight and manipulate her into killing Croft while promising protection from consequences once she does. Playing on Eva’s internal struggle against her upbringing, he explains how and why Croft murdered the original two helpless, innocent victims and destroyed Eva’s life as part of the coverup. 3. Possible titles TANNENBERG THE JEWEL WASP TWO WOLVES 4. Comps: Psychological suspense When I began searching for comps (I confess to not having done this before now), these were the plot/theme elements I looked for: - the corrosive influence of a charismatic/narcissistic “leader” - a protagonist struggling against past secrets/shames that play upon the present - questions of conscience, ethics, and morality...and an antagonist who makes a seductive case against them - a beautiful but changing setting that belies ugliness/evil beneath the surface and where disparate worlds/people collide Most of the books/articles/studies I’ve read that tick the majority of these boxes (except the last one) are nonfiction. While obviously I would not compare myself to these writers, these novels come to mind: 1. THE GOD OF THE WOODS by Liz Moore 2. THE SILENT PATIENT by Alex Michaelides 3. THE SECRET HISTORY by Donna Tartt (After beginning this exercise, I found this title as an example in the materials sent to us, so I went for two more. But I’d still consider this a comp, a “crime novel” in which solving the crime is not the primary focus) 5. Logline Police administrative assistant Eva Brandt strives to help solve a double murder in California wine country, despite every clue forcing her back into the clutches of her dangerous father and the powerful cult of fear, lies, and paranoia he has built. 6. Two levels of conflict: (apologies if you intended that we simply summarize the scenes—I tried to keep them short) A. Inner conflict. In this scene, we first see Eva’s struggle to free herself from her past, in the moment she discovers the murder weapon: I started down the vine row closest to the house. After about ten yards, I stopped. It took me a moment to register the knife embedded in the trunk of an ancient grapevine--the dried blood smeared across the smooth metal shaft was the same color as the bark. “Sir?” The word caught in my throat. It wasn’t just any knife. I’d learned to use one like it, years ago. It carried a feeling, long-forgotten: the warm sense of safety, of belonging, I’d felt as a child when first shown the secret cache of lethal weapons at Tannenberg. Staring at that bloody hilt jutting from gnarled wood, I was eight years old again, my father’s arms wrapped around me from behind. Hold it like this. Now, if you release the latch that keeps the knife pressed against the compressed coil... ...the blade would rocket at 40mph toward any threat within twenty feet. Ballistic knives were nothing more than a hollow handle inside an exterior grip and a mechanism--compressed air, a CO2 capsule, or a spring—that shot the blade out of the grip like a bullet. They had been illegal in California since the 1980s, and their banned status meant a certain subset of the population took special pride in owning them--a subset I knew well, into which I’d been born. Little Eva Brandt: pale blond hair, eyes a slightly disappointing leaf green rather than a clear sky blue, skin so white rushing blood vessels betrayed every fear, every secret shame. Named for the woman who stayed loyal to Hitler unto death. “Sir!” Berger turned. Croft did, too. At first, they both looked annoyed at the interruption, but I guess my face said enough. The next thing I knew, they were beside me. B. Secondary conflict: Eva’s struggle to make friends—to trust others (in this case, and at this point unknown to her, with the actual murderer): [Dierdre] said, with a new sparkle in her eye, “I wonder if all gay couples are as fussy as Nick and Terry. They’re very proud of their hollyhocks.” We’d reached her car. “I’m sure there are as many types of gay couples as there are straight couples.” I deflated as the sparkle left her eye. Christ almighty, this was why I couldn’t make friends. I hadn’t meant to sound judgmental. She reached for the door. “Sorry. Obviously, there are. That was my upbringing talking. God, I hate it when I sound like my father.” “Couldn’t be as bad as when I sound like mine.” She paused, her hand on the handle of her Escalade, and said, “The truth is, I feel guilty about Heather. I mean, innocence dies. That happens to all of us, but I tried to keep certain things from her, and I think she’s known about Ken’s affairs all along. That’s why it’s so hard for her to grow up. She never experienced the innocence of childhood, so she keeps trying to go back, reconcile everything in her head and her heart, start over.” “Don’t we all.” She pulled the door open. “I shouldn’t have made that joke about Nick and Terry. It was cheap. I appreciate you calling me on it. That’s what friends do. Make each other better.” And then she gave me a hug. A quick, unthinking hug, the sort of embrace I imagined was common between normal people, but it was all I could do to lift an arm, reciprocate, not stand there like I was carved from marble. She threw me a smile and a wave as she drove off, and I sunk to a seat against the stone wall as the sun went down, nursing my wine, letting the heat from the last sunrays soak into my face. The world felt peaceful all of a sudden, hushed under a sky like melted rainbow sherbet. I skipped dinner and fell asleep early to the smell of leather and chestnut, hints of maple and cayenne. My grandfather’s tobacco. He would not have blamed me for my mother’s death. I felt so sure of it, I slept well for the first time in memory. 7. The setting—Sonoma County, California I wanted a physically beautiful setting, one that might lull the reader a bit, provide a hint of peace, when in reality there is a strong “outsider” (murder victims Chloe Adams and Saoirse Quinn) vs “insider” (Eva, Croft, Detective Berger) dynamic in an area unusual for the fact that among insiders, the very wealthy and the very poor interact on a personal level. There is also a large immigrant vineyard worker population, providing scapegoats (Luis Delgado, murder suspect #2) for those who might be looking for such (Croft?). For the same reasons, the Tannenberg compound is depicted as an idyllic five-star spa, not Ruby Ridge.

Friends of mine have been telling me to watch Lucifer. Lucifer, that show where Lucifer gets tired of being in hell and decides to kick it on earth and learn about humanity, and winds up solving mysteries. That Lucifer. I don’t really feel the urge to watch it, but I am intrigued at the prompt that, of all the things he could do with his time, the devil would find himself trying to solve baffling crimes. On a nondiegetic level, this show’s conceit exists the way it does because people love mysteries. But diegetically, the idea that this great, age-old villain would, in the right context, find himself becoming a detective… is intriguing to me. And funny. So it got me thinking. What about other villains? What about, like, horror movie villains? Would they be good detectives? Would they rise to the occasion? Let’s consider. I’ve drawn up a ranked list of the most famous horror movie villains, in order of “how good a detective” they would be. Obviously, this is unserious. Happy Halloween. 22. The Shark, Jaws, et al The shark in Jaws might be a “smart fish,” but would be a generally ineffective crime scene investigator, I think. Right? He’s a fish? 21. The Xenomorph, Alien, et al I just can’t imagine a context in which these skills would be useful? 20. Frankenstein’s Monster, Frankenstein, et al “The Creature” in Mary Shelley’s novel is an eloquent, erudite, sensitive individual, modeled on Lucifer from Milton’s Paradise Lost. HE would make an amazing detective… he tracks down Victor Frankenstein all the way to the Arctic, for crying out loud. Alas, “The Creature” from the movie is cut from a very different cloth, er… flesh. I cannot see him being a good detective. All he can do is grunt and lunge. We need our standards to be higher. 19. Leatherface, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre Leatherface’s inability to think for himself makes him a very good blunt instrument, but would render him a poor investigator, I should think. 18. Pennywise, It As an otherworldly demon with seemingly unlimited power, Pennywise could be a great detective if she set her mind to it. But she’s far too self-directed. 17. Count Orlock, Nosferatu While I would 1000% watch a movie where Nosferatu solves crimes, I can’t imagine what that would look like. What skills does he bring to the table? He’s good at climbing stairs and lurking in doorways… what else, Orlock? What leadership or cognitive abilities can you contribute? 16. Lawrence Talbot/the Wolf Man, The Wolf Man He’s no idiot, but he’s too much of a liability. Lots of good investigation work takes place at night… he’d instantly become useless. 15. Candyman, Candyman, et al I just feel like bees loudly announce his presence wherever he goes, and that’s not a helpful element to add to a crime scene? 14. Godzilla, Godzilla, et al Subsequent film adaptations make Godzilla a good guy, but in the original, he’s a very bad monster! He demonstrates some strategic thinking, for sure, though. Like, you can see how in various sequels, he’d be able to mobilize his whole deal for the greater good. 12. Jason Voorhees, Friday the 13th Jason isn’t really the real villain until Friday the 13th Part 2, but we’re rolling with it, since he’s the main villain of the franchise. Jason doesn’t really bring much to the table, except a good sense of chronology and an ability to know what day it is. Look, I’m not saying he’d be the best detective of all time, but he’s got something. 11. Ghostface, Scream, et al Ghostface’s penchant for asking questions to his victims (“what’s your favorite scary movie?”) bodes well for his ability to interrogate suspects… but the fact that Ghostface’s identity has to change from movie to movie means that there’s not a lot of procedural unity to his methodology. A detective needs to be more than a transferable figurehead! 10. Dracula, Dracula, et al Look, there have been a million Dracula incarnations, and some would definitely be better detectives than others. But, for the purposes of this list, we’re going with the most indelible cultural image of “Dracula,” which is to say the OG Universal Monsters Dracula: our lord and savior Bela Lugosi. As much as I love him, I feel like he would not be a great detective, sadly. He’s not even very good at hiding the fact that he’s a vampire around a bunch of stodgy Englishfolk who don’t believe in vampires until Van Helsing shows up and labors to convince them. And he’d be useless giving a testimony in court, after the fact! I do not think that man could realistically swear on a bible. 9. Predator, Predator et al The alien race of trophy hunters known as the Yautja have lots of finely-honed tracking skills. You’ve got to imagine that they’d at least be excellent bounty hunters. 8. Annie Wilkes, Misery She’s a nurse. She’s an avid reader. And she’s a serial killer who has managed to be acquitted of her crimes in a court of law and kill a bunch of people afterwards without anyone suspecting. We’re dealing with a very clever woman, here. Imagine what good she could do if she put her mind to it? 7. Pinhead, Hellraiser, et al Pinhead is an interesting villain because he intrinsically cannot differentiate between the sensations of pain and pleasure, and he gets mad at those who try to solve a puzzle that he has clearly marked as his purview. So, like, he sounds like an average graduate student, and that kind of person is always a good detective. 6. The Creature, The Creature from the Black Lagoon Think about it. This is a movie about a guy who is minding his own business in his Amazonian home when a bunch of scientists show up to study him without his permission or knowledge and then attack him on site and he has no choice but to defend himself and he does it well. These are the kinds of skills that would be good for a detective to have in his or her back pocket! 5. Griffin, The Invisible Man Would Griffin be a good detective? Yes, he’s invisible. This would be very helpful, obviously. 4. Michael Myers, Halloween, et al He is very, very good at walking around in broad daylight without anyone paying any mind, and this ease of surveillance is a great trait for a detective to have. 3. Freddy Krueger, A Nightmare on Elm Street, et al Freddy’s ability to enter people’s dreams would be an unbelievable asset to crime-solving! I mean, he can explore the subconscious minds of suspects and determine their guilt! Would it be a major ICAP ? violation? Yes. Would it work? Yes. 2. Jigsaw, Saw, et al Jigsaw’s elaborate murderous traps reflect a highly developed frontal lobe, the part of the brain that solves problems. Jigsaw probably could have found the zodiac killer. 1. Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs, et al Okay, this first-place slot is kind of cheating, because, in various iterations of Hannibal’s story, including Bryan Fuller’s Hannibal, he is a detective… or at least a detective sidekick. And it’s true that he has insider knowledge in addition to being able to understand people’s deep psychological situations. But he’s effective and this list is about effectiveness! View the full article

A look at the month’s best reviewed new releases in crime fiction, nonfiction, mystery, and thrillers. Via Book Marks. Nick Harkaway, Karla’s Choice (Viking) “What a treat it turns out to be to wander anew the fusty, crumbling warren of the Circus … The prose of Karla’s Choice is not an absolutely perfect exercise in ventriloquism of the master, nor does it try to be. There may be a few seeming anachronisms…but there is a satisfyingly cold tone throughout, recalling the way that le Carré’s own furiously tamped-down moralism (in the novels of the 1960s and 70s, at least) could approach nihilism … He demonstrates superbly, too, how suspense can arise from the patient accumulation of detail, and the brilliant climactic scene is nothing so vulgar as an action-movie shootout but rather a sequence of ordinary bureaucratic peril: the attempt to cross a border when one’s papers are not quite in order.” –Steven Poole (The Guardian) Mark Haddon, Dogs and Monsters (Doubleday Books) “The stories in this splendid new collection are inspired by an eclectic variety of sources … The work of a consummate storyteller, the brilliantly conceived Dogs and Monsters illuminates a variety of species, both real and mythical, including our own.” –Hilma Wolitzer (New York Times Book Review) Charles Baxter, Blood Test (Pantheon Books) “He’s written something closer to a farce — a story in which every predicament is intentionally absurd … After Baxter has laid out the parade of selfish, money-hungry, blindly tech-admiring elements of contemporary life, the black comedy of the words shines through.” –Mark Athitakis (Los Angeles Times) Elyse Graham: Book and Dagger: How Scholars and Librarians Became the Unlikely Spies of World War II (Ecco Press) “Entertainingly conveyed, with great respect and deep appreciation for their ingenuity and drive, Graham’s history is a powerful symphony for these unsung heroes whose professional skills and personal courage brought down the Nazi state. The modern intelligence community owes its existence to their rigor and resourcefulness.” –Carol Haggas (Booklist) Rachel Kushner, Creation Lake (Scribner) “Bears all the hallmarks of her inquisitive mind and creative daring … The first satisfying surprise is that Kushner has designed this story as a spy thriller laced with a killer dose of deadpan wit … The story, told in short chapters that feel punchy even when they’re highly cerebral, slides around the labyrinth of Sadie’s mind, which is equally deceptive and deceived … Kushner inhabits the spy’s perspective with such eerie finesse that you feel how much fun she’s having … Bore through this noir posing and wry satire of radical politics, and you feel something vital and profound prowling around in the darkness beneath.” –Ron Charles (Washington Post) View the full article

Are we ready for fictional political intrigue in a time of real-life political intrigue? Fiction that concerns a powerful woman who also happens to be vice president – and a powerful woman who might replace her? Are we ready for season two of “The Diplomat?” The second season of the highly regarded 2023 series begins streaming on October 31st and I’m honestly not sure if Netflix and series creator Deborah Cahn were ingenious in this scheduling or not. Those of us who loved the twisty initial season are primed for the second no doubt, but will we be watching it with one eye on our newsfeed, waiting for 11th-hour developments in the presidential election? (The answer is yes.) Will those who don’t know the series even consider jumping into a show that plays with machinations at the highest levels of political power? (Maybe.) You can read my take on the first season here, but here are some thoughts in advance of Season 2, which I have not seen. Needless to say, spoilers ahead. Political and marital tension On Netflix’s site, the main article about “The Diplomat” is headlined, “Does Hal Survive?” That in itself is a pretty big potential spoiler if you haven’t seen the first season. Netflix answers its own question with its 30-second teaser trailer for the new season that shows Kate (Keri Russell) and Hal (Rufus Sewell) Wyler getting out of a limo and walking up a staircase, only to encounter Vice President Grace Penn, a character cited in the first season and now embodied by Allison Janney, the wonderful actress possibly best known as C.J., the press secretary to President Jed Bartlet in “The West Wing.” So the teaser trailer seems to answer two questions: Hal apparently survived the London car bomb at the climax of the first season unless this is a dream sequence, or nightmare really, in which Kate confronts the vice president. “Nightmare” because Kate was being groomed to replace Penn on the ticket as running mate to President William Rayburn, played in season one by Michael McKean as kind of a goof. So an encounter between Kate and the vice president would be … awkward. A big part of what made season one of “The Diplomat” so good was its perfect mix of political and marital tension. These tensions were milked for all they were worth throughout the first season’s eight episodes. Some people – me included – cited the blend of political and martial tensions as echoes of thrillers like “House of Cards” and the real-world public lives of couples like Bill and Hillary Clinton. Driving “The Diplomat” is the relationship between the Wylers. Hal is a former U.S. ambassador, a political genius and master tactician. Kate is the new U.S. Ambassador to the United Kingdom. Kate is undoubtedly a genius but finds herself a fish out of water when thrown into diplomacy on a global scale. When Kate is posted to England, Hal comes along. But his inclination to be “hands on” in political circles and not “just” an ambassador’s spouse causes concern for nearly everyone in the Wylers’ circle, from the White House to Austin Dennison, played by David Gyasi as the compelling U.K. Foreign Secretary, Ali Ahn as Edira Park, the CIA station chief and Ato Essandoh as Stuart Hayford, Deputy Chief of Mission for the U.S. Embassy in London, who finds himself shepherding Kate through her mission as ambassador. When a purported terror attack on the U.K. inflames Prime Minister Nicol Trowbridge (Rory Kennear), Kate must help guide Dennison as he counsels the PM. And because Kate and Hal are the people they are, Kate finds herself with significant other considerations: Can she trust Hal, who she’s always on the verge of divorcing, regarding his advice on how to be a diplomat? Can she trust Hal at all? Can we have more of ‘The Diplomat’-verse? So much rings true about “The Diplomat” in spite of the lofty circles the Wylers move in. Truths range from the perpetually sweaty – by her own admission – Kate asking Hal to smell her armpits to the complicated feelings they have for each other. There’s a dance of attraction, frustration, annoyance and love going on between the two and we can hope that’ll continue in the new season. On the Netflix site, show creator Cahn has one of those cryptic comments about the second season that’s along the lines of “everything we thought we knew about the Wylers changes and everything they thought they knew about each other changes too.” Not that we want spoilers for the new season, but holy moly, that’s vague. Remember those “Mad Men” previews of the next episode that mostly consisted of the cast saying non-sequiturs that didn’t give any meaningful information about what was coming up? When I wrote about the first season for CrimeReads, I was struck by a few things: How great the uneasy relationship between the Wylers was; how much “The Diplomat” was not a Jack Ryan-style thriller, with people getting shot in the kneecaps and helicopters swooping in; and how fun it would be to see more of some of the supporting characters, especially Michael McKean’s president. I didn’t cite Janney’s vice president because she hadn’t been cast yet – the second season hadn’t even been announced yet – but seeing Janney in the preview for the new season makes me hope they give her VP character some screentime without distracting us too much from the Wylers and their intrigue. Also, I now wish Netflix would greenlight a separate White House-set series featuring McKean and Janney in a modern-day “West Wing”-style drama with absurd touches. Seeing those two at the pinnacle of Washington would be a balm to the soul these days. Because I’m so, so tired of living in extraordinary political times. Even as fractious and uncertain as the world of “The Diplomat” is, right now it feels like comfort food compared to the real political world. So I’ll be watching. See you on the other side, I hope. View the full article

Owning racehorses is the preserve of royalty, the rich and the famous. Right? Wrong! These days anyone can own a racehorse, or at least a part of one, as a member of a “syndicate”. Syndicate ownership was first permitted by the British Jockey Club in 1975 and, since then, it has become the most popular method of owning a racehorse, allowing those who wouldn’t be able to afford to purchase individually to become part-owners, sometimes for as little as £45 (US$60), not that you get much more than a few strands of mane and a clip of an ear for that money. However, being a member of a high-end syndicate can cost you a lot more than that. Racehorse ownership has always been a risky business, at least financially. According to the 2024 US Jockey Club Fact Book about 45,000 horses started in all the races across North America last year, competing for gross purses slightly exceeding $1.3 billion. That averages out at just under $30,000 per starter. Whereas at first sight that might seem a reasonable sum, you have to remember that keeping a racehorse in training is not cheap. On average it will set you back $75,000 per horse per annum, which covers the training, veterinary and other fees. That is comparable to the cost of sending your son or daughter to Harvard, or to another Ivy League university. But, of course, not every starter wins the average. In 2023, 31 horses earned over a million dollars in prize money. But those 31 are only a tiny fraction of the total number in training. And a mere 8% earned enough to cover their annual keep. The median earning of $14,000 means that a typical racehorse earns back only about 20% of its costs, without even taking into account the initial outlay required to purchase the horse in the first place. So why do people do it? Partly because owning a racehorse is to buy into a certain lifestyle, a world of glamour and excitement, and partly because you might, just might, scoop a fortune. No one who buys a Mega Millions lottery ticket really expects to win the jackpot, not with odds of 1 in 300 million, but if you don’t buy the ticket, you have absolutely zero chance. Striking it rich with a racehorse has much better odds than doing so with Mega Millions, and the jackpot can be just as big. The colt, Justify, was purchased at the 2016 Keeneland yearling sales in Kentucky for half a million dollars. He raced just six times, all of them as a three-year-old, but he finished first in all of those six races, including the Kentucky Derby, The Preakness, and the Belmont Stakes to become only the thirteenth horses in history to secure the coveted American Triple Crown. His winnings on the track were an impressive $3.8 million, but that sum is dwarfed by his potential earnings as a stallion. Over a fifteen-year career, he is expected to amass in excess of $150 million in stud fees, making him worth more than eight times his own weight in pure gold. And that might be an underestimate considering one of his first progeny, City of Troy, won the 2024 English Derby at Epsom, something that has instantly doubled Justify’s stud fee for 2025. So you can make mega millions from the gee-gees, but it’s rare. As well as the less affluent increasingly using a syndicate as a method to get into racehorse ownership, the big spenders are now beginning also to use them to spread their risk. Why spend upwards of half a million dollars for a single top-rated horse, and have all your eggs in that sole basket, when you can join with a group of like-minded and wealthy individuals to have a share in more than a dozen? Back in 2018 one such high-roller syndicate instructed Bob Baffert, maybe the all-time top US racehorse trainer and winner of a record six Kentucky Derbies and two Triple Crowns. They gave him $9 million to spend at the yearling sales at Keeneland to purchase some colts. He bought seventeen, all of them jointly owned by the syndicate members. Of the seventeen, three turned out to be true stars of the track. The first won four out of five of its races, two of them at Grade 1; another was victorious in the Grade 1 American Pharoah Stakes at Santa Anita (and yes, Pharoah in this case is spelt like that!); and the third, Authentic, the best of them all, won both the 2020 Kentucky Derby and the six-million-dollar Breeders’ Cup Classic. To say nothing of the horses’ future earnings at stud. Bob Baffert is quoted as saying that he turned the initial $9 million into $40 or $50 million. Now that’s what I call making a killing! And talking about killing, my latest mystery novel, Syndicate, is now on the bookshelves. In it, Chester Newton, an England-based syndicate manager is having great success when one of his horses wins the Epsom Derby. At a party to celebrate the win, his eighteen-year-old daughter goes missing. Several hours later she is found nine miles away, drugged but otherwise unharmed. Chester then receives a mysterious phone call from someone claiming to have kidnapped her, and demanding that Chester’s horses must run to his orders or, next time, the daughter will return home in a body bag. When Chester receives a second call demanding that one of his horses lose an upcoming race, he has to decide whether to break the most sacrosanct regulation in the racing rule book, or place his own daughter in mortal danger. As the strapline on the front of the book states: Will Someone Kill to Take Control? Read Syndicate to find out! *** © Felix Francis, 2024 Syndicate by Felix Francis is published in the US and Canada by Crooked Lane Books View the full article

A quick in and out, just as a favor. A big favor, a favor meriting repayment at some point down the line. A quick in and out – not even that actually. Breaking without entering. The alarm would kick in, though it always took time for anyone to respond. There might be cameras, but he was in his balaclava, the one that covered everything except the eyes. Gloved too, of course. ‘You don’t have to go in,’ he’d been told. ‘Leave that to us.’ The main door was almost too easy, though, and once it was unlocked, what was to stop him? Might even be a bit of petty cash lying around, a phone or an iPad, nothing anyone would bother about. He knew he had a couple of minutes. Maybe even five or ten. But looking around the inside, it was just a nail bar. Not much to pocket other than manicure files and varnish. No cash register, just a card reader. If there’d been a computer, it had been unplugged and carried home for the night. Two more doors at the back of the room – toilet to the left and office to the right. The office was locked, too. Yale lock. He pulled off his gloves with his teeth so he could get a better grip on the smaller of his picks. Ten seconds was all it took. He crossed the threshold and switched his phone’s torch on. When he recognized what was sitting on the desk, he clenched his free hand, the one holding the pick. Clenched his teeth, too, and let out a hiss of breath between them. Then he turned and ran, not noticing that the sharp little lock pick had pierced the flesh of his palm, a few tiny droplets of blood left behind on the fake wooden floor as he made good his escape . . . Day One Rebus sensed that something was wrong even before the alarm sounded. He was in the queue for breakfast, listening to the Wizard coughing up half a lung as usual. Nobody ever mentioned the hierarchy; it just happened naturally. Those liable to throw their weight around or go off on one ended up closest to the food while everyone else gathered behind in a ragged line. The Wizard was two places ahead of Rebus, which was fine. He probably wasn’t any older, but he looked it, and he’d been in prison longer than just about anyone else on the hall. His real name was Gareth Wallace, the nickname stemming from his long grey locks and longer beard. He arched forward as he coughed, not bothering to cover his mouth. New arrivals would make COVID jokes until they realized none were being heard for the first time. When Rebus turned to look behind him, he found Ratty there, seemingly more shrunken with each passing day. Ratty’s eyes, narrower even than usual, were for once not focused on the progress of the queue. He gave a slight nod when he realized he had Rebus’s attention. There was a blur of movement as one of the white-shirted officers hit the alarm. The ringing was sudden and piercing, accompanied by other officers arriving, milling, conferring. Then the order – back to cells – followed by complaints and questions. ‘Room service today,’ an officer called Eddie Graves announced, beginning the process of shepherding the reluctant flock. ‘Wish I was as lucky.’ Graves had a complaint for every occasion, as if fortune was forever favoring the inmates. ‘How long but?’ someone asked. ‘Soon as we get you indoors,’ Graves answered. Though Ratty was a good eight inches shorter than Rebus, he had the knack of seeing and knowing everything. ‘It’s Jackie,’ he told Rebus. Sure enough, two officers – Novak and Watts – filled Jackie Simpson’s doorway, faces close together, conversing in an undertone. Though other officers were forming a makeshift cordon, Rebus and several others had to pass this cell to get to their own. ‘Keep moving,’ came the order, hands flapping, arms outstretched. But as with a motorway crash, traffic inevitably slowed for a gawp. There were two more officers inside the cell. On the lower bunk Rebus could make out a prone and bloodied figure. Another man lay on the upper bunk and seemed in slightly better shape, in that the officers were trying to rouse him while ignoring his cellmate. Rebus remembered the name of the upper bunk – Mark Jamieson. He’d known him briefly on the outside. Not that he’d ever mentioned as much in here; Jamieson wouldn’t have thanked him. ‘Come on, John,’ Graves said, pressing a hand to his shoulder. ‘Don’t make things difficult.’ They locked eyes for a moment. Graves’s jaw was tensed and some of the color had drained from his face. ‘It’s not in my nature to make things difficult,’ Rebus assured him. ‘Unlike some.’ He gestured over Graves’s shoulder to where Darryl Christie sat at one of the circular tables near the food station. Two officers were flanking him while he finished his breakfast, taking his time, savoring each drop. Neither officer seemed minded to interrupt. ‘Darryl!’ Graves called out. ‘Back to your cell, please!’ Turning his head slowly, Christie took in both Graves and Rebus. ‘Right you are, Michelle,’ he called out. Michelle for Michelle Mone. Graves, the serial moaner, tried as ever not to show that the name irritated him. Rebus sensed that the grin Christie threw in Graves’s direction was meant not for the officer but for him. John Rebus had a cell all to himself. It consisted of a narrow bed, toilet and sink. The toilet had no door but was in an alcove, allowing a modicum of privacy. There was a small desk and some storage space, plus a shelf for personal effects. He had piled here all the books he had promised himself he would read. Inside one of them he kept photos of his daughter and granddaughter. He wasn’t sure why he wanted them to remain private, but he did. A wall-mounted flat-screen TV had a slot at the side for DVDs, and there was also a landline telephone, again fixed to the wall. Calls had to be prearranged and paid for, and of course were monitored if there were any staff available. Beneath the bed was a small safe for valuables, which Rebus never bothered to lock. This was his home now, and had been for the past six months. When he’d first arrived at HMP Edinburgh, they’d assessed him and put him in an overnight cell. Because he was ex-police, it was then decided that he should transfer not to one of the general halls but to the Separation and Reintegration Unit. This was where they kept the prisoners who were either in danger or were a danger to themselves. Some of them Rebus never saw. They remained in their cells, occasionally yelling a complaint but mostly staying silent. There was an enclosed yard where exercise was taken, its walls heavily graffitied with names, sometimes with the word ‘paedo’ or ‘nonce’ added. Rebus felt hemmed in, not only by walls but by the same daily faces too. He had visited the prison many times during his detective years – he recalled being shown the Hanging Shed, now long demolished – but this was different. The various smells were never going to be showered away. Testosterone and wariness filled what air there was. Drug use was hard to miss. He had always known the place simply as Saughton, though the branding on the officers’ shirts these days declared it HMP Edinburgh. Prison, nick, jail, chokey, inside – many names but only one game: incarceration. There were four general halls – Gyle, Swanston, Trinity and Whitecraig. Gyle was for women prisoners while Whitecraig housed the sex offenders. Trinity and Swanston were a mix of those awaiting trial on remand and those already convicted. One day, three months into his life sentence, the governor, Howard Tennent, had summoned Rebus to his office. It was large and modern and had a table and chairs for meetings. Tea was offered and there was even some shortbread. ‘How would you feel about joining the general population in Trinity?’ Tennent had asked while Rebus bit into a biscuit. ‘What’s happened?’ Rebus had asked back. ‘Two things. For one, we’re short of accommodation in the SRU, so we could do with your bed.’ ‘And?’ The governor had shifted slightly in his chair. ‘Darryl Christie is ready to vouch for you, meaning you’ll be protected. He seems to think you did him some sort of favor a while back.’ ‘He means getting rid of the competition – not that I did. My lawyers are busy with the appeal.’ ‘You were there when Cafferty died, though.’ ‘Again, not true. The coronary came after.’ Rebus had paused. ‘Is Trinity Christie’s patch?’ Tennent swept a few crumbs from the table in front of him. ‘He’s guaranteeing your safety, John, and we have a single cell that’s just been vacated. You’ve been off the force a good few years – I doubt you’ll come across too many guys you put in here. In fact, I’ve had a look. Just a few minor habituals, none of them minded to get on the wrong side of Darryl and his lads.’ He had fixed Rebus with a look. ‘So what do you say?’ ‘I say that if someone does me in, I want you grieving at the graveside.’ Tennent had given a thin smile before rising to his feet, Rebus snatching a final biscuit as he was ushered from the room. Well, it’ll make a change, he had thought to himself, while all too aware that ex-cops were unlikely to be welcomed with open arms. Aware, too, that Darryl Christie might at any time change his mind, leaving him wide open to attack. It was an hour before his cell door was unlocked long enough for cold toast and a mug of stewed tea to be handed over. The officer’s name was Kyle Jacobs – nicknamed Kylie by the men on the hall. Rebus had made friends with him over the past weeks, Jacobs eager to hear tales from Rebus’s CID days. He was in his late twenties with short, well-groomed hair and heavily tattooed arms. He had two uncles who’d been Lothian and Borders Police and Rebus had pretended to know the names. ‘This looks appetizing,’ Rebus said as he took the plate. ‘Best we could do. The eggs would have walked in here by themselves.’ ‘So what’s happening out there?’ ‘Someone stabbed Jackie in the neck. He’s done for.’ ‘How about Jamieson?’ ‘Doped to the eyeballs. A nasty gash on his forehead.’ ‘Taken out of the game, basically. Found the weapon?’ Jacobs looked around. ‘I’ve already said more than I should.’ Rebus had edged forward, hoping for a glimpse down the hall, but the young officer crowded in on him. A raised voice came from behind the door of the next cell along. ‘Will you hurry the fuck up, Kylie! My belly thinks my throat’s been cut!’ Jacobs started closing Rebus’s door. ‘Don’t be a stranger,’ Rebus told him. He settled on the edge of his bed, listening to the door locking. The normal routine would have had him helping at the library. He’d been offered floor polishing or the kitchens, but being around books had appealed more. The library wasn’t far from the NHS unit and its nursing staff. Rebus got his regular supply of COPD inhalers there, always with the warning that he shouldn’t pass them on – ‘Some users tweak them to make bongs,’ he’d been told. Not that cannabis was the biggest problem inside. Spice and its chums had been causing havoc for several years. Ketamine, nitazene, etizolam, bromazolam – Rebus couldn’t keep up, which didn’t matter as most of the prisoners just called them ‘benzos’ and didn’t seem to mind exactly which doses and combinations they were being offered. The drugs were easy to hide and there was no giveaway aroma. From noon onwards you could see the benzos taking their toll, slack faces atop immobile frames. There were ketamine users whose addiction had led to bladder problems and colostomies. They were known as Pissbag One, Two and Three. Nursing staff carried oranges with them because they diluted the effects of spice. Rebus had also seen plenty evidence of self-harm, prisoners whose arms bore scarring, some of it fresh and raw from the razor blade’s work. No one ever discussed it; it was just another fact of life behind bars. Tennent had been right about one thing: Rebus hadn’t become aware of any real grudges against him. There was one guy, JoJo Peters, three murders to his name, who’d been put away after a cold-case trawl that Rebus had been involved in. But he was suffering from dementia these days and barely left his cell. The other prisoners made regular checks on him and took him treats. Rebus had stopped by one day and Peters had stared straight through him while chewing a toffee with the few teeth he’d managed to keep. ‘Shouldn’t be here,’ a younger prisoner had commented, arriving with another handful of sweets. ‘Home or a hospice if they had any heart.’ Word had obviously filtered down to Darryl Christie, who had stopped Rebus in the hall later. ‘Reckon JoJo could pose a problem?’ he’d asked. ‘Definitely not.’ Christie had nodded slowly and turned away, watched by a couple of officers. Rebus doubted they’d have been quick to respond even if Christie had launched himself at him. The place was short-staffed – all prisons were – and it was at near-capacity. Other jails were even more crowded, but life here was made easier for all concerned if someone like Christie exerted a level of control. The day Rebus had moved into his permanent cell, Christie had come calling. He’d gained some weight and wore his hair long, swept back from his forehead. He’d wanted to thank Rebus for getting rid of Morris Gerald Cafferty. But Rebus had been convicted of attempted murder rather than murder proper. Even so, the judge had handed down the mandatory life sentence, despite Rebus’s protestations that he’d only meant to scare Big Ger by putting a cushion over his face. The prosecution hadn’t liked that, presenting Cafferty as a wheelchair-bound Mother Teresa rather than a thuggish career criminal. Rebus’s past run-ins with the man had been dusted off and held up to the jury for their consideration and condemnation. Still, Cafferty had died, leaving a vacuum of sorts – once his cocky lieutenant, Andrew Downs, had been scared off and run out of town. Christie’s town, controlled at a distance, while inside HMP Edinburgh he sat on his throne – or at least the chair at Rebus’s desk. ‘Settling in? Anything I can get you? I know you had a bit of a thirst on the outside – harder to source in here. Pills, on the other hand – uppers and downers – you’ll soon forget you’ve got four walls around you. You’ll forget everything bad.’ ‘No chance of any Sanatogen then?’ Christie looked blank. ‘Forget it,’ Rebus said. Then: ‘Am I supposed to thank you for this?’ Rebus had known him since Christie was in his late teens, keening for retribution after his sister’s murder. Paths were open to him back then and he’d chosen the one leading here. Rebus had been in the room the night Christie had shot and killed an enemy. He’d seen a madness behind the young man’s eyes and had assumed he’d end up in the secure unit at Carstairs. But the law dictated otherwise. ‘One thing you can do for me, lifer to lifer,’ Christie had said that day in the cell, rising to his feet so he was eye to eye with the standing Rebus. ‘What?’ ‘Run me through it. Help me picture the scene.’ His voice had dropped, but his eyes glittered. ‘Was he scared? Did he show it? Did he beg?’ He ran his tongue across his lips. His breath was bad and his skin sallow. ‘Come to think of it, how did you feel? It was a long time coming. Too long for many . . .’ ‘I actually had a bit of respect for the guy,’ Rebus had eventually replied. ‘He had a code of sorts, things that were beyond the pale. Not every toerag can say the same.’ Then he’d sat down on his bed, picked up a book and pretended to start losing himself in it, leaving Christie to stand his ground, dragging a hand through his hair before walking out. A few of the prisoners referred to Christie as ‘the Don’. The first few times it had happened, Rebus had felt it necessary to respond that he was no Vito Corleone. But it kept happening anyway. Rebus knew all too well that Christie’s protection was a mixed blessing; it didn’t do to rile the guy unnecessarily. So he kept himself to himself, worked all the hours he could in the small but well-stocked library, and got to know a few of his companions, finding out who could be trusted to any extent and who should be avoided. He thought of Cafferty sometimes, not quite with remorse. The life sentence felt like Cafferty having one last laugh at Rebus’s expense. The level of noise rose as the morning progressed, complaints from behind the locked doors. Rebus’s neighbors on both sides – Billy Groam and Everett Harrison – gave occasional kicks and thumps. Harrison had music playing as usual. Rebus had given up asking him to turn it down. Harrison was of Caribbean descent and had a Liverpudlian accent. He worked for a Merseyside-based trafficker of drugs and people, and had been caught in Edinburgh with a consignment of the former. Rebus had asked him once if encroaching on Christie’s turf meant he had to watch his back. ‘Anyone comes at me, they better have nuclear capability,’ Harrison had retorted. And it was true that he seemed to get on well with Christie, the two men playing pool together and sometimes even sharing a console game. Smiles and laughs, pats on the back and handshakes. Rebus was almost convinced. His door was unlocked at one o’clock. An officer he didn’t recognize told him that food was being served in Swanston Hall, so he’d need to get changed. On your own hall, you could wear what you liked, but when visiting elsewhere, prison-issue polo shirts and sweatshirts were required, their colors indicating what level of inmate you were. Blue for short-term, brown for those not yet tried in court, maroon for sex offenders. The long-termers like Rebus wore dark green. He’d been told it was so the officers watching on CCTV could keep tabs. Last thing they wanted was lifers meeting kiddie-fiddlers during free flow. Having swapped his faded red polo for green, Rebus stepped out of his cell and saw that a cordon had been set up around the crime scene, courtesy of blue-and-white-striped POLICE tape draped between some parking cones. A scene-of-crime team was still busy, those inside the cell covered head to toe to prevent trace contamination. The governor meantime was in conversation with a cop Rebus recognized – Detective Sergeant Christine Esson. Spotting Rebus, she raised an eyebrow before turning her attention back to Howard Tennent. ‘We all know what happened,’ Billy Groam muttered, walking a few paces ahead of Rebus. ‘Bad blood between Jackie and that bawbag Chris Novak. You saw him this morning same as I did, standing outside the cell making sure all his mates had their stories straight.’ Yes, Rebus remembered the two officers, faces almost touching as they talked. Novak and Valerie Watts. Rumor was they were more than just colleagues. But then rumors were like oxygen in a place like this, keeping the heart pumping and the mind active. __________________________________ From MIDNIGHT AND BLUE. Used with the permission of the publisher, MULHOLLAND BOOKS. Copyright © 2024 by IAN RANKIN. View the full article

Good evening everyone! Here is my 7 Assignments List. 1. Story Statement Aiden Eyler, a serial killer who preys on the wicked, must bring down the Church of Nephilius before its nefarious plan for the complete psychological domination of God City comes to fruition. 2. The Antagonist The Church of Nephilius, born out of a great lie, commands the ultimate servitude and sacrifice from its followers with the aim of ultimate world domination and Gravemaker, the mastermind who who created The Brotherhood, a faction of the Church that kills wantonly any and all who oppose its teachings, is a man bent on power and power alone. His goal is to lead the Church into the future as the controlling force for all human activities. 3. Titles A. God City: The Flood or; B. The Second Flood 4. Comps & Genre A. The Children of Men by P.D. James B. The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa C. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 5. Hook - Core Wound & Primary Conflict After suffering the grave emotional changes in transforming from an atheistic journalist to a believing serial killer known as The Flood, Aiden must sacrifice his life as he knows it to confront the tyrannical Church of Nephilius and save his girlfriend from its clutches whilst maneuvering around the police who are doggedly hunting him. 6. Inner Conflict A. Aiden Eyler is an atheist, but he wasn’t always one. After his parents died, he was taken to a Catholic orphanage to be raised by Father Dodson with other orphanage boys. The devastating events that occurred there took Aiden onto a path of complete abandonment of God. As a journalist, Aiden has recently won a prestigious award for articles he wrote against the Church of Nephilius, the fastest growing faith in the country. But, Aiden has been sleepwalking of late and having strange dreams wherein he hears the distinct voice of God calling for him to change, to become something impossible—a serial killer for God who targets the wicked. Aiden struggles with what he believes is being asked of him, let alone by an entity he has forgotten about. His entire life changes as he ventures down this new path. And when he discovers the Church’s terrible plan to psychological dominate the city, the country and finally, the world, Aiden struggles with the knowing he has to bring down the Church, the very Church of which his girlfriend’s family are members. B. A secondary conflict that Aiden fears is his relationship with his girlfriend, Aurora. Whilst Aiden is trying to hide his new life, he knows ultimately that he cannot forever live this life in secret. He fears his girlfriend finding out what’s he done, what he’s doing. He fears the police are after him and will eventually find him. What then? What would God’s plan be for him then? Aiden fears this unknown and unknowable future. 7. Setting A. God City is a fictional city that is in seemingly in perpetual darkness, bombarded by rain and the elements. And yet it’s the focal hub for the Church of Nephilius, for a political stage that sets policy for millions of people, a hub for the arts as it is the Hollywood of the region. The city if filled with the famous and the rich and powerful are drawn there. Water symbolizes much throughout the novel and none more so than in New Eridu, God City. B. The Ranch - A estate in the nearby mountains of God City used by the Church of Nephilius to train its Brotherhood warriors in combat. The Church finds the City’s unwanted, those that would not be missed if missing, and uses them as fodder to train their Brotherhood applicants. To kill without question is an important aspect of The Brotherhood, and the ranch is the perfect out-of-the-way place to train.

This is a redo on the homework using the new book I'm going to work on, Sleuthing on Set. STORY STATEMENT: Sydney Lang must make a go of segueing into a writing career within the next few months or have to move to an unwanted city and job. A murder on set occurs and she feels she needs to solve it. ANTAGONIST: My story has 2 antagonists. One is Willow Weston, the new PA who is the model daughter of a superproducer. Her goal is to get her script finished and to the showrunner before Sydney, and be selected to work in the writing department. The other antagonist is the murderer, but we don’t know who it is until the end. It’s someone who stabbed the showrunner’s assistant Olivia in the neck with a pen in the writers’ room. TITLE: Sleuthing on Set COMPS: Shock and Paw by Cate Conte Murder Buys a One Way Ticket by Laura Levine Both stories are fun, light cozy mysteries with strong female protagonist sleuths. There is whimsy and humor in the stories. CORE WOUND: Sleuthing on Set is Sydney Lang’s journey from office temp to possible TV writer. When she encounters writers’ block, the only thing that helps her creativity flow is sleuthing around the murder of the showunner’s assistant on set. INNER CONFLICT: Sydney is fighting to get her script finished in time to present it to Tina Tieri’s assistant with the goal of getting a job in writing. She encounters writers’ block and feels stuck, while her rival continues to get ahead. This makes her extremely nervous and worried that she will have to leave LA and move to another state to take a job in HR so she can support her son. She discovers that trying to solve the murder is a way to get her creating juices flowing again. SECONDARY CONFLICT: Sydney’s 5-year-old son has behavioral and learning issues. She is worried about being able to properly parent him and get him the help he needs. In one scene he has to go to a psyche hospital after threatening to “murder” someone (a term he learned while his mother has been sleuthing). Sydney feels challenged to rise to the occasion and help him get better. SETTING: The majority of the story takes place on the Brighton Network lot, a television studio in Los Angeles, both in the production office and on set. It adds an interesting element to the story, with the murder suspects being Brighton employees.