Tag Archives: murder mysteries

I Think I’m Rubbed Out

Nobody thought I would not have a Wrist to Forehead Sunday today, least of all me.  I’m TIRED!  We had a wonderful show last night.  The audience loved us!  And we loved the audience!

I am speaking, of course, of Rubbed Out at Ruby’s, the interactive murder mystery presented by LiFT Theatre Company at the Overlook Mansion in Little Falls.  They served hors d’oeuvres catered by That Little Place on Main, and they were, you should pardon the expression, to die for.  Of course, I did not eat a lot.  I was busy acting.

Now I must gear up for a bear of a week, that is, production week for Steel Magolias at Ilion Little Theatre.  Opening night is March 3.  Yikes!  I don’t think I even have all my costumes together, but I am working on it.   Additionally, I must finish writing, cast and begin rehearsals for not one but two murder mystery dinner theatres.  If anybody says, “Well, you’d better get writing,” I’ll scream.

In the meantime, it is Oscar night, traditionally a big night in our humble household.  My dear husband, Steven, has watched them every year since 1965.  In previous years we have had better luck in catching more of the nominated pictures.  Additionally, in previous years I have not been in the habit of going to bed as early as a much older woman or a little kid.  I do not apologize for my nocturnal habits but merely note them.

Well, one can’t do everything after all.  I write, I participate in community theatre, I work full time, and I get what sleep I can.  Additionally, I intend to start running again.  I do not have time to go to movies that tend not to play around here in the first place.  Clean my house?  Who brought that up?  And what are you implying?

I say never mind all that.  Sunday is traditionally a day Steven and I spend time together.  I am going to hit Publish and get back to him.  As a closing note, here is the final cast picture of the marvelous actors of Rubbed Out at Ruby’s.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

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What a crew!

Bad AttiTiredTuesday?

It was partway through the afternoon when I realized it was Bad Attituesday.  What else could it be?  Oh, well, I suppose it could be a lot of things.  I was going to write a short essay on some ponderings I’ve had lately about bad moods (what, computer?  Isn’t “ponderings” a word?  I’ll be damned).  Now I feel too tired.  Oh, so I guess it’s Tired Tuesday.

I just ate part of a yummy sub Steven ordered from Carney’s Corners.  There is nothing like good food to take the edge off a bad mood.  And there is nothing like the realization that I have to keep my bra on and go someplace later to put the edge right back on. But there is no point in bitching about it; I said I would be in the play, and I will graciously accept any applause that comes my way.

Oh dear, this post is kind of going in all directions, isn’t it?  I did do some real writing earlier today.  I MIGHT have a murder mystery to write soon, so I started writing one.  I got almost two pages of notes written.  I think I have some pretty good ideas.  Writing these murder mysteries really plays to my strengths as a writer.  Or my weaknesses, depending on how you look at it.  I would go on about my strengths, but this isn’t Toot My Horn Tuesday, now, is it?

 

Whatever Happened to Finish That Novel May?

So I wrote part of a blog post at work today, not a Mohawk Valley adventure but a silly commentary, and I did not think it was contemptible.  Unfortunately I did not finish it.  I wrote till one break was over, then on the next break I found I could not continue.  I turned to another page and started to write another lament about my writing woes.  I got a sentence and a half before it started to bore me.  No other blog topics presenting themselves, I turned to a completely fresh page and started writing notes on yet another new novel.

I have a very bad habit of continually starting new novels but never finishing them.  On the other hand, my rule for myself is to Just Write.  Do you suppose I ought to make up some more rules for myself?  If my new rule is Finish What You Start, I am going to be writing for a LONG time.  If I can even find all the novels I have started.  Now I am reminding myself that I also have to finish the banana play.  As well as another play that I had written almost all of (and I think the plot is pretty damn good on that one) (but perhaps I flatter myself).

It is not the least bit surprising that I am so good at writing interactive murder mysteries.  They play to all my strengths.  And they are short.

Ah, I can just hear somebody taking a breath to say, “Write short stories!”  Well, I won’t, because I don’t like short stories. Oh, I know, many people adore them and they are a highly respected art form.  I just don’t like them.   I could write a whole blog post on why, but what does it matter?  There is no accounting for tastes.

So this is my Non-Sequitur Thursday post.  If only I could think of a punchy headline, I would be reasonably content.  And if I can’t think of a good headline, at least I made a blog post.  I’ll work on that silly commentary more tomorrow.

 

It’s A Crime

I did not write a blog post while at work today. I spent my time before my shift and on each break reading a true crime book by Ann Rule. She is the BEST! I love true crime. I guess the best I can do for this week’s Middle-aged Musings Monday is a couple of paragraphs about my crime obsession.

It seems to me that many people love murder. Murder mystery novels crowd library shelves. Many movies feature murder, mysterious or otherwise. And on television… it’s everywhere! Truth, fiction, police, amateurs, hit men and even the undead, although many would argue that they don’t count. I am not alone in my obsession.

I do enjoy a good fictional mystery, on the page or on the screen, but lately I am really addicted to the true stuff. I have written about this before, how I watch many shows of varying degrees of cheesiness. I only wish I had seen a good one lately, so I could write about that.

The novel I am having so much trouble writing (and I KNOW I have written about that here) is a murder mystery. Perhaps one of the reasons I am having so much trouble with it is that I am not spending enough thought on the actual crime. Silly me, I keep thinking about the characters. Well, I will have to work that out for myself.

Well, that is over 200 words. I am having a plethora of not very good posts lately and for that I apologize. Tomorrow I plan to go running early in the morning. I hope and trust that will offer enough interest for a decent Running Commentary. If not, I believe there is a library book sale I can attend. Ooh, maybe I’ll find another Ann Rule book.

Murder on the Blog Post

Is anybody keeping score as to how many posts I write about Why I Can’t Write a Post? I hope not. In fact, why should I flatter myself that people are paying that much attention to me in the first place? At least I was working on something different this time. I was trying to kill someone.

I just said that to be dramatic. I was writing a murder mystery. You see, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… oh wait, that’s something else. It was in the North Country, as that area of northern New York State likes to call itself. And it was the 1990s, so, you know, not yesterday. My husband and I and some friends used to have a company called Murder For Hire. We put on interactive murder mystery dinner theatre.

I used to write most of them, and I like to think I was pretty good at it. We never made a lot of money, but we had a lot of fun. I really miss doing them. When I get a real intense bout of writer’s blank, sometimes I start one, just to get my creative juices flowing.

Regular readers may recall my saying that my novel is at a standstill. I keep thinking about it while at work (a good time for working out plot points), but nothing much is coming. So I started to think about something else. I thought about a possible venue for a murder mystery. I thought of an organization that might like to do one as a fundraiser. Then I thought about what kind of murder mystery they would like. Then next thing I knew, I was making notes.

I started that yesterday after I had written the day’s post, so I’ve been at it for two days now. I am enjoying it quite a bit. Will I feel confident enough to actually approach the organization I thought might like it? We shall see. And probably write a blog post about it.

“Marvelously Theatrical” Cheese

It was a sad day for me when I realized I had seen all 50 of the Horror Classics on the DVD set I gave Steven some birthdays ago. Now where will I find cheesy movies to write about, I lamented. Then I remembered that I had also gotten him 50 Mystery Classics. I don’t know if I can expect mysteries to be as cheesy as horror movies. Still, murder and mayhem, what’s not to like? I would give it a try.

I selected Fog Island (1945), starring George Zucco. Zucco, I remembered, was described as “marvelously theatrical” in a horror classic I had seen. That boded well. I eschewed the description on this one, because I know from experience they often give too much away.

Speaking of which, SPOILER ALERT!!! A big one this time, because I am going to tell you EVERYTHING, including the climax and the end. So you’ve been warned.

I’m actually not too worried about giving away the plot, because I didn’t properly understand it. I think Zucco just got out of prison where he had been sent on trumped up charges of cheating some people who think there is still some money to be had somewhere. While Zucco was in prison, somebody came to Fog Island and murdered Zucco’s wife in hopes of gaining said money.

Zucco and his beautiful stepdaughter (the obligatory beautiful young girl) are on Fog Island, discussing this while at least two suspicious-looking types listen in. The stepdaughter wants only to be left alone, but Zucco has invited all his malefactors to the island. The malefactors will accept the invitation, because they think they might get at the money. Zucco, of course, has other plans.

Now I don’t properly understand high finance, but if the money-stealing charges against Zucco were trumped up, shouldn’t the malefactors already have the money? And if there is no money, as in fact seems to be the case, where did it go? I guess money can just disappear in these investment schemes, but I thought usually somebody somewhere eventually ended up with it. But no matter. We have a murder, we have a guy seeking revenge. What more do we need?

The eavesdroppers from scene one turn out to be Zucco’s colleague who was also sent to prison (different prison, similar charges) and the mysterious butler, who, if his mystery was ever explained, I missed it (in my defense, I was writing notes in the TV Journal).

Of course the greedy malefactors show up at Fog Island. As many of you saw coming, the only boat on the place returns to the mainland and there is no phone. I don’t have a problem with the set-up; it’s the basis of many a good thriller. However, you would think a villain clever enough to get George Zucco sent to prison on false charges when they don’t even know where the money is would be foresighted enough to take their own damn boat to an island.

Before his guests arrive, Zucco rigs a rather heinous booby trap. In a room deep in the basement, the door will lock and water will pour in. He moves a table over the device that triggers the trap and put a skull on the table. I am rather fond of skulls as decor myself, so I would undoubtedly be lured by such a trap. I’ll have to watch my step.

Amongst the malefactors is the son of one who had died, a nice-looking young man who apparently has some past with Stepdaughter (just when you thought there wasn’t going to be a love interest). The other malefactors include a turbaned psychic, a hot blonde and a couple of guys. The psychic was my favorite, but I tried not to get too attached to her, because I figured they would all come to a bad end.

And of course they did, even George Zucco (I TOLD you I was going to tell the ending!). Zucco at least dies happy, because he feels that in stabbing him, the guy has as good as confessed to murdering his wife. The guy next stabs the psychic, who is dumb enough to turn her back on him. Then he and the remaining two malefactors get trapped in the heinous set-up I mentioned earlier. That scene was as disturbing as I feared it would be, but I have a horror of being trapped and drowning.

In the meantime, Young Man and Stepdaughter have patched up their differences and are preparing to leave the island (is it morning already? How time flies when you’re killing off malefactors!). While Stepdaughter packs, Young Man discovers the corpses.

“I should tell my stepfather I’m going,” she says.

He tells her he’s seen stepdad, who is OK with her leaving. He also tells her, in effect, not to worry her pretty little head over the others, just get on the boat. They exit happily into sunshine. Get it? Fog Island is no longer covered with fog. Romantic sigh.

I have left out a few things, but we don’t need this blog post stretching off into eternity after all. I do tend to get long-winded in these movie write-ups. I was quite pleased with the cheese factor in the movie. I look forward to watching others in that DVD set. And I may take some Lame Post Friday to philosophize half-bakedly on the meaning of “marvelously theatrical.”