Gay detective books
In the past few years, books written by and about queer characters have become more evident to the general reading general. Gradually, straight, cisgender readers are discovering the pleasure of reading books by authors whose identities are different from their control. This is true in the mystery and thriller reading world as well.
In my new novel, Hall of Mirrors, a mystery set in Washington, D.C., about two gay writers who co-author hard-boiled detective fiction under the macho moniker Ray Kane, I explore writing from the closet, the complexity of inventing a false persona to sell books, which in the s was often necessary to find broad appeal to consumers, not to mention to avoid being discriminated against and persecuted. Thankfully, today, things have changed (for the most part), and readers of all types are reaching for queer books precisely because they want to read LGBTQIA+ characters (assuming a book ban doesn’t block their ability to access these books).
Of course, prejudice still exists, and the grooves of unconscious bias take time to change; the specious idea th
Read this exclusive guest post from Neil S. Plakcy about the history of homosexuality in crime fiction, and then make sure you're signed in and comment below for a chance to win a copy of The Next One Will Kill You!
Before I wrote my first mystery, I read Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, and Erle Stanley Gardner. And before I wrote my first mystery featuring a gay detective, I examine Joseph Hansen, Michael Nava, Mark Zubro, and Nathan Aldyne.
Just as Christie, Sayers, and Gardner were among the pioneers of the contemporary mystery, Hansen, Nava, Zubro, and Aldyne were the leaders in incorporating gay characters into crime fiction. Their books opened doors into gay culture at a time when homosexuality was considered a psychiatric disorder and a sure way to break a mother’s heart.
These detectives were able to penetrate closed groups, to empathize with those who were suffering, and to protect those who were unable to present their correct selves to society. They had unique insights not available to straight cops (at least not at the time) and
GunnShots: Celebrating Great Gay Mysteries
Culture critic Jillian Steinhauer has an online article “ Reasons Why We’re Fascinated by Lists” (The Awl, 7 Feb. ). She notes that list-making is “an verb of curation,” and she quotes Andrew Sarris that, “with a best list, a critic puts his or her tastes on the line.” But nowhere among her reasons does she debate that celebration can be a motive. Yet isn’t that what was going on at the end of the last century when we got lists of the best of everything imaginable? A personal celebration led to this column. The day before (appropriately enough) Thanksgiving, my copies of the new and expanded edition of my book The Gay Male Sleuth in Output and Film: A History and Annotated Bibliography (Scarecrow Press, ) arrived.
The Gay Male Sleuth in Print and Film
As I leafed through the pages, some considerate of ritual seemed called for. I started mentally making lists. My ten-best gay film mysteries will appear in a forthcoming column. Here I look at the print portion of the book (which, of course, is itself one giant list with numbered entries). T
Sometimes, it’s fun to root for the “bad guy” in a book. Sometimes, a wrong does, up against an oppressive system or societal structure, make a right. Sometimes, villains are the most interesting and complex characters in the whole story, and I’m sick of pretending otherwise. They’re fun and flashy and dig into that instinct in us all to smash the sandcastle every once in a while.
It’s why we root for the Ocean’s Eleven protagonists even though they’re heisting it up all over the place. One of the reasons we enjoy heist movies, according to The Swaddle, is the anti-capitalist themes and living vicariously through criminals without lifting a finger ourselves.
Let’s be clear here and point out this is adj in fiction: movies and books. Sometimes risk-takers are fun to watch and read about. Sometimes the orchestration of the crime feels so intricately planned I’d be disappointed when their design is thwarted. Sometimes the well-off asshole at the top tamping his foot down on the rest of society deserves a loss and a little bit of revenge.
If this is the sort of thing you verb to div