By Vicki Delany
Now that I’ve switched my focus from darker, grittier crime
novels (standalones like More than Sorrow, the eight novels
in the Constable Molly Smith series) to cozies, my only aim as a writer is to
have fun with it.
And I’m having a lot of fun with the Sherlock Holmes
Bookshops series, in which the third, The Cat of the Baskervilles, came
out this week.
There isn’t much hotter in the world of popular culture
today than Sherlock Holmes. The
continuing popularity of the original books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle; the
massive number of modern short story collections and pastiche novels; two TV
series, several movies.
I’m a writer and I’m also a keen mystery reader. So when I
was looking for inspiration for a new series, I thought a bookstore would be
fun. And then the idea popped into my
head: A bookstore dedicated to Sherlock Holmes.
When I started to do some research on that, I quickly
discovered it’s not such an unfeasible idea.
You could easily stock a store with nothing but Sherlock. Not only things I mentioned above but all the
stuff that goes with it: mugs, tea towels, games, puzzles, action figures,
colouring books, cardboard cut-out figures. The list is just about endless.
Throw in nonfiction works on Sir Arthur and his contemporaries, maybe a few
books set in the “gaslight” era. And, presto, a fully stocked bookstore.
And thus was born the Sherlock Holmes Bookshop and
Emporium. Because cozy lovers (and me)
love food to go with their reading, I put Mrs. Hudson’s Tea Room next door, run
by her best friend Jayne Wilson.
Every book and every piece of merchandise sold in the
Sherlock Holmes Bookshop and Emporium exists in the real world (with one
exception as readers of Body on Baker Street will
understand). I haven’t read all the books
I mention, and I’m not necessarily recommending them, but I enjoy dropping the
names of books into the story as customers browse and shop and ask Gemma for
suggestions: something suitable for a middle aged man laid up after falling off
the roof; a book for a friend who loves historical mysteries; a YA with a
female protagonist; even a hostess present for a hated mother-in-law!
My original intent when I began the series, was that the
main character would be a normal cozy character. A nice young woman who owns an
interesting bookshop, lives in a pleasant community (in this case, on Cape
Cod), and has a circle of friends.
But, by the time I got to page 2, Gemma Doyle had become
“sherlockian”.
And that’s been enormous fun to write. Gemma has the amazing
memory (for things she wants to remember), and incredible observational skills,
and a lightning fast mind. She is also,
shall we say, somewhat lacking on occasion in the finger points of social
skills. Jayne is ever-confused, but
loyal.
Sometimes Gemma’s observations don’t go down well with a
skeptical police officer:
“It was perfectly obvious,” I said.
“I smelled flour, tea, and sugar the moment we came in. Those are normal scents
in anyone’s house, but tonight they’re of a strength that indicates they’ve
been recently dumped from their containers. Overlaid with the odor of rotting
vegetables, by which I assume the fridge door has been left open. I keep
meaning to eat that kale because it’s supposed to be healthy, but I really
don’t care for it.
“We can also assume that our
intruder is a nonsmoker and doesn’t apply perfume or aftershave regularly. Unfortunately,
it hasn’t rained for several days, although the forecast did call for some, so
they didn’t track mud into the house. The flour! An unforgiveable oversight on
my part. You will, of course, want to take casts of footprints that have
tracked through the spilled flour and sugar.”
“It didn’t get on the floor,”
Estrada said. “But it’s all over the counter.”
“As the front door appears to be
untampered with, and I don’t hand spare keys for my house to all and sundry,
I’ll assume our intruder came in through the back door. Therefore the kitchen
would be the logical first place to search.”
“Enough, Gemma,” Jayne whispered
to me.
“I only want to point out the
obvious facts.” I’ve been told on more than one occasion that some people don’t
understand my attention to detail and thus misunderstand the conclusions I draw
from it. I have tried to stop, but I might as well stop thinking. And this
didn’t seem like a suitable time in which to stop thinking.
“The back door’s been forced
open, yes,” Estrada said. “I’ll admit, that was a good guess.”
I was about to inform her that I
never guess, but Jayne elbowed me in the ribs.
Elementary, She Read by
Vicki Delany
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, reimagined as modern young
women just trying to get on with life.