Digging for the Bones

It probably sounds like I'm still harping on about the Funny Bones, but I assure you, I've moved on to a rather different kettle of Arapaima. You see, this week, I have been ferociously reading, consuming books like a Chungkingosaurus. I know, it’s actually a real dinosaur! What a great name hey?

Anyway, I decided that before I tackle the momentous task of editing, necessitating an archaeological dig into prehistoric territory—where hopefully some semblance of sense can be resurrected—I would study the master’s works. In other words, those of Agatha Christie.

In addition to reading and re-reading her novels; including Sleeping Murder, Murder on the Orient Express, Murder of Roger Ackroid and Hercule Poirot’s Christmas—well it is the season—I have also been trying to learn how she worked. The process behind her incredible little grey-cells!

Therefore, I have also been reading Agatha Christie’s Complete Secret Notebooks: Stories and Secrets of Murder in the Making, complied and interpreted by John Curran. It’s an excellent book, with lots of fabulous tips…

Oh dear, again as I am writing this I am half-watching a movie. This time it is A Monster Calls, an amazing story, but oh so sad. And I just watched the end of My Girl! I know, what am I doing? Anyway, A Monster Calls is about a little boy whose mother is dying and he is visited by a story-telling yew-tree. Oh and the Monster just said: ‘Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both.’

See. Very brilliant. So sad and oh no...excuse me for a moment.

Ah, sorry, I say with a sniff. I’m back, and able to speak once again of lighter things. Before I continue, however—with what I was intending to write about—I have become momentarily distracted momentarily by marmalade and scones with honey. I know you are wondering where I am going, but for those familiar with A Pocket Full of Rye, they might have an idea. And while I was googling just now, I discovered one of Agatha’s romance novels written under the name of Mary Westmacott was called: The Rose and the Yew Tree. Fascinating, I really must read that.

Anyway, down to Agatha’s note-books. She is known for saying they were frequently misplaced—having previously been filled with fabulous ideas—but what I found most interesting, is they are like an insight into her stream-of-consciousness. There are even other random details like appointments and addresses, books she would like to read and reminders to do Christmas shopping. However, one of the best tips I think is so simple and it is thus:

Oh, sorry, that's a jar of marmalade. I'll have another go;

The reason I think it's so brilliant, is it really gets to the bones of the story, and when I considered my own manuscript, I admit I was stuck on 'which'. Then I realised, it must be which person committed the murder? Does that sound right? Oh, I'm glad to hear you say it.

Anyway, wish me luck on my excavations. I fear they may be lengthy, but I do hope I don't have to dig to Mesopotamia before I discover a skeleton!