Two weeks ago I received one of those emails that everyone at SleuthSayers hopes for when their computer goes “Bing!” The email was from Janet Hutchings accepting my latest story, Literally Dead, for publication in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine.
The time period between a story’s acceptance and its publication – measured in months, usually measured in many, many, months – always reminds me of what it felt like as a child waiting for Christmas. You know it’s coming and there is great joy in the anticipation. Part of that also is because at that stage you know you have made it. You came up with an idea, tinkered with it until you were pretty sure it would work, fleshed out the characters in your mind, drafted, edited, re-edited, circulated it to those around you and finally took a deep breath and sent it off. And Lo: It wasn’t rejected.
When my younger son Colin (one of my tougher critics) read Literally Dead his first observation was that he was surprised at the detail I went into concerning the New England town that is the setting for the story. Why, he asked, did I explain that the town square was in fact round? Why did I mention the nearby Mahogany mountain range, or the fact that the next town down the road was Shinn Corners? And why was it necessary to mention that the statute in the middle of the square (err, the round square) was the town’s founder, Jezreel Wright? Colin knew that most of my short stories are, in fact, Ellery Queen pastiches. But Colin (alas, like many of his generation) had not in fact read Queen. So he did not know about Wrightsville.
|Wrightsville -- As depicted on the inside coverplate of Double, Double|
If you have read Ellery Queen you will be very familiar with Wrightsville, the small upstate New York town that was created by Frederic Dannay and Manfred B. Lee back in the 1940s to get Ellery out of the city on occasion. The Wrightsville mysteries begin with Calamity Town, published in 1942, and thereafter the little town with its recurring characters is the focal backdrop for a host of Queen mysteries, all the way through the penultimate Queen novel The Last Woman in his Life, published in 1970.
During the almost 30 years that we see the town through Ellery’s eyes we watch it change. Characters come and go; Police Chief Akins retires, only to be replaced by the flinty Anselm Newby, with whom Ellery will spar in “Literally Dead.” In the Queen retrospective portion of Tragedy of Errors Richard and Stephen Dannay, sons of Frederic, have noted that the town itself was inspired by the poetry of Edgar Lee Masters in Spoon River Anthology. One episode of the NBC Ellery Queen series was situated in Wrightsville, and Ed Hoch also chose the New England village for his final Ellery Queen pastiche, The Wrightsville Carnival (EQMM September/October 2005). So I was not the first interloper to return to the town in search of the further adventures of Ellery.
One of the more difficult tasks in writing an Ellery Queen story is dealing with the backstory that defines Ellery. In all of the Ellery Queen stories there are virtually no descriptions of Ellery himself. But boy, there sure is a lot of other background for a writer of pastiches to grapple with. Some of the Queen backstory is easy – Wrightsville either stays the same or grows along predictable lines. But Not so Mr. Queen himself.
The Ellery Queen we first meet in The Roman Hat Mystery, published in 1929, is young, foppish, and at times rather insufferable. He wears pince-nez glasses, carries a cane, tools around in a Dusenberg, and spouts erudite but hopelessly obscure references from the classics. We are told by the mysterious “J.J. McC”, who provided the introductions to the early Queen novels, that Ellery eventually retired with his wife and son in Italy. (By the way, anyone paying careful attention when reading Queen’s Face to Face, published decades later in 1967, can stumble upon the true identity of Mr. J.J. McC!)
In any event, having brought about this phoenix-like change, Ellery proceeds to stay basically exactly the same for the next thirty-five years. This is true of Ellery’s father, Inspector Richard Queen, as well, who is almost always nearing retirement, but never getting there. I had to say “almost” and “basically” because there are still rents in the Queen backstory fabric. Thus, the Inspector does retire in Inspector Queen’s Own Case, published in 1956, the same volume in which he becomes engaged to Jessie Sherwood. Further confusion ensues, however. By The Player on the Other Side, published in 1963, the Inspector is not retired, and Jessie is nowhere to be seen. And then in The House of Brass, published in 1968, Jessie is back, and Richard Queen is (again) retired. Thereafter in the final books of the series – The Last Woman in his Life, (1970), and A Fine and Private Place, (1971) Richard Queen is back at work and, again, Jessie has disappeared like that pair of pince-nez.
My philosophy in writing pastiches, as I have mentioned before, is the same as the physician’s charge: “first, do no harm.” I think that if you are going to attempt to bring back the creation of others you must be as loyal as possible to the original. But still, with Ellery, as we have seen, there are choices. An author attempting to recapture Ellery in a new story has some varying paths that can be followed. Many Ellery Queen pastiches basically follow the majority of the works of Dannay and Lee and portray Ellery as a young man in a present-day world. This is how Ed Hoch and Jon Breen, for example, chose to portray Ellery in pastiches that they wrote.
|The Mad Hatter's Riddle as illustrated in EQMM Sept./Oct. 2009|
But, in any event, when you set yourself the task of writing a Queen story this is the type of baggage that comes along with the project. Some years back Leigh Lundin commented to me that the great thing for about writing new Ellery Queen stories was the fact that the detective came with a pre-packaged backstory. Perhaps you will understand why my response was laughter.