A Mysterious Interview with Jon Matthew Farber

The Third Black Beacon Book of Mystery will be released on the 18 th of April (but the Kindle version is available for pre-order today at just $0.99 instead of $3.99) and to celebrate this new volume of detective mysteries guaranteed to put your little grey cells to work, we’re interviewing the contributing authors. Do you dare peer into their devious minds, where criminal masterminds battle brilliant sleuths, private eyes, and police detectives? Settle down in your favourite armchair and get ready to pit your wits against the finest voices penning mystery puzzles today!

Hi Jon,

It’s always tricky interviewing a mystery writer about a particular story because we don’t want to give anything away, but can you tell us (carefully) where the idea for your story came from?

I’m an Ellery Queen fan, as will be apparent from further answers, and the idea came to me to use one of his dying message clues (read my story to find out from which novel), with a new interpretation. From there, the physical aspects of the clue meant that I could introduce a second dying message (again, read the story to better understand this comment), and as long as I was going that far, I figured I might as well toss in an impossible crime, and there I was.

There are several sub-genres of mystery fiction, but the stories in this anthology are traditional fair-play mysteries in which the reader can try to solve the puzzle before all is revealed. What makes this kind of mystery so timeless?

It's the puzzle aspect, pure and simple. Whether it’s a crossword, sudoku, or mystery story, there’s an inherent satisfaction in coming up with the solution. Even when I don’t succeed, in a well-crafted tale, there is something aesthetically pleasing to me about all the pieces coming together cohesively. Conversely, much as I enjoy plot twists, I’m greatly annoyed when an author throws in so many twists for their own sake that there are gaping logical holes as a consequence.

Do you have a favourite fictional detective?

Ellery Queen, hands down. I love the pure puzzle aspects of most of his tales, and the books introduced the concepts of the dying message, and Challenge to the Reader. Indeed, in the radio shows, the performance is stopped near the end, and a celebrity guest (and listener at home) has a chance to name the criminal, and why. Except for a few obscure radio plays, I own copies of all his published fiction, and I’ve listened to as many of the radio dramas as I can find.

Is this the first mystery your protagonist has solved?

Yes and no. I will explain. I originally wrote two stories featuring a Dr. Spock, a professor of mathematics and logic. One, ‘The Cutthroat World of Academia’, was published in Mystery Magazine (October 2022). The other was set at a Star Trek convention, and has not yet found a home; one editor felt it was “too in-jokey.” I felt this was a legitimate complaint, so for the next one, I changed the name to Professor Leonard Simon (which is still a Star Trek Easter egg, by the way). Thus, this is the third mystery Spock has solved, the second to be published, and the first for Simon.

If you were a detective, private investigator, or amateur sleuth, what would be your trademark quirk?

Interesting question. Simon himself has a small quirk, in that he enjoys lecturing to summarize his solution to a case, and often eschews contractions when he does. For me, I would go with a quirk related to books. When visiting someone’s house, I like to study their bookcases, see what they like to read, and also how they organize their books (one person I know arranges them by the colour of their
covers). As a detective, I would do this whether or not I was looking for clues.

Do you have a writing routine or particular requirements for a writing session?

My approach to writing seems to be very different from most authors. With one exception, I only write short stories, around three per year, so I average around 30 words a day. Most of the time, my writing is dormant, until an idea pops into my head. If it seems promising, I play with it a little, and if other ideas follow, I figure I am onto something, and start the story. I do this in my head during quiet times (such as walks) over 2-3 days. Once I am satisfied, I then type up the first draft from memory. This is not as difficult as it sounds, for three reasons. First, it is not a long story. Second, I have gone over it multiple times already, akin to a rehearsal. Third, it’s my own words, so if I misremember bits, it doesn’t matter. After the draft is finished, I then polish it over the next few weeks, then stop writing again until inspiration strikes. One difficulty with this process is that I have to find a place to submit my work when done. I expect I could publish more if I looked for themed anthologies and wrote to the assignment (anthology first, then story, rather than the other way around), but so far that’s not my method. Fortunately, I had a story ready that fit the Third Black Beacon Book of Mystery, so here I am.

What are you working on now?

I’m putting the finishing touches on my first, and probably only, novel, Do Not Resuscitate. I expect to have it ready for sale by the end of April, probably sooner. It is co-written (Ellery Queen echo again) with Daniel Reinharth, and is a mystery with the main plot line revolving around a serial killer in a hospital. Despite this theme, it is actually a traditional fair play whodunit: no gratuitous sex and violence, no protagonist angst, and the amateur detective solves the murders (and some mini-mysteries along the way) by analyzing clues.

Where can we find you online?

It’s not easy. I signed up with Facebook, but don’t post, and only check it once a month. If you really want to find me online, before I retired, I blogged extensively on pediatric issues at allpeds.com/news. I don’t even own a Smartphone; bottom line, I’m a Luddite.

Thanks for playing along!

The Problem of the Snowbound Shack - Sneak Peek

As 2020 draws to a close (what a year!) and we look back on what we've read, published...achieved, despite all the landmines laid in our path by this global annus horribilis, which is Latin for either "horrible year" or "horrific anus", we cast our minds back to the launch of our 5-star anthology (just check the reviews!) of armchair mysteries, PI investigations, and noir escapades. Yes, 2020 gave the world "The Black Beacon Book of Mystery", and let's make sure 2021 spreads (hmmm, poor choice of word?) it far and wide, ensuring it lands on the bookshelf or in the e-reader of every mystery fan! Ambitious? Well, yes...unashamedly so! Here's a sneak peek for you...   

The Problem of the Snowbound Shack

Jon Matthew Farber

Jason Hawthorne sighed contentedly as he savoured his double malt, looked across at his guest, and said, ‘I suppose you want to hear about some of the “impossible” crimes I’ve had the good fortune to be involved with, and been lucky enough to solve. Well, I guess the beginning’s as good a place to start as any.’                                                       

   My earliest such case also happened to be the first one where I was given the chance to take the lead. I still don’t know whether it was because my captain was worried because he thought it might never be closed, or if he was trying to teach me some humility with an impossible problem. Looking back at my early career, I agree I was quite cocky, and this would’ve been a good lesson for me, had I indeed failed. Either way, I was in charge. Let me set the background for you.

It was 1965 and I was almost one year out of training, but already moving up fast, having been promoted to Trooper First Class. My Captain was Leo Ark. I was based out of Upper Clifton, the capitol seat in a rural county. This was a quintessential small New England town with a strong sense of community, where most everybody knew everyone else. As such, I already had a good sense of the locals.

The murder I’m going to tell you about took place around three weeks after the annual Winterfest. This was the major social event of the season, with pretty much the entire county turning out. One highlight was our local genius, Thomas A. Edison, who demonstrated his latest invention. Don’t laugh, that was his real name, only the A stood for Alan. He even owned several patents, and this time he showed off his “flying saucer”, a two-foot-in-diameter metal contraption that used compressed air to skim above a surface. In retrospect, this was a precursor to what would now be called a true hoverboard, and may have led to something big, except that Edison lacked the 99% perspiration that his namesake had, so that most of his projects were never completed. The saucer actually travelled several feet on a couple of different runs.

In the talent portion of the festival, our librarian, Miss Ives, won the baking contest for her lemon chiffon pie—her cooking was to die for—while in target shooting, William Monroe, the mill foreman, needed his perfect score to just beat out Thomas Farley, our local carpenter, and Barney Snow, the hunting guide, in a tense match. In the artistic competitions, the widow, Mrs. Holt, won for her quilt depicting the local flora and fauna, while Mr. Farley got his moment to shine in the collectibles category for his 1894 Smith and Wesson 38 5-chamber double-action model 4 revolver, a piece that was beautifully restored and faithfully cared for, while second place went to Richard Simpson’s Pre-war Lionel Model Train 413 Colorado Passenger Car Model.

Anyway, around three weeks later I was in police headquarters when a call came in one morning from Michael Swift. It seems he was supposed to meet Monroe, having spoken with him the previous night around 10 pm, but he hadn’t showed. As things were quiet, the captain, our newest recruit, Larry Whitman, and myself piled into our 1964 Chevy Biscayne and headed over. This was a hard-driving full-size car, known for having two taillights on each side, and the choice at the time of many police departments throughout the country. The department had sprung for the more powerful V8 engine.

Monroe lived in a one-room (plus bathroom) shack in a clearing, perhaps a hundred yards in diameter, in the local woods. When we arrived, the ground was covered by around three inches of snow that had fallen until late yesterday afternoon. The weather was a little warmer than the frequent well-below freezing, so the snow was still powdery, and the absence of any significant breeze meant there were no drifts. The driveway was unspoiled, and the path to the front door was smooth and undisturbed.

    We padded up to the door and knocked, but there was no answer. The cabin had many knotholes in it, stuffed with cloth, so I pulled the cloth from one to the right of the door and looked inside. Monroe lay directly in front of me, sprawled out on the ground beside the bed, by the entrance to the bathroom...