Thursday, February 25, 2010

Jane Cleland signs Silent Auction and Hosts a Writer's Workshop Saturday May 15 at 2 pm

Jane Cleland hosts a book discussion for her new title Silent Auction and holds a writer's workshop titled : Using Red Herrings in Traditional Mysteries 2 pm

The Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries. "Ingenious ... engaging!" Publishers Weekly. www.janecleland.net Jane does Business Communications training work, too! www.janecleland.com

Red Herrings: What’s Really Going On?

by Jane K. Cleland


An element commonly used in traditional mysteries is a device called a red herring. Sometimes the term “red herring” refers to a plot point; usually it refers to a person.

A red herring is a false trail. Until recently, the accepted etymology of the idiom was that red herrings were used to train hounds to track scents. This seems to be false etymology, most likely intentionally introduced as a prank that defines the idiom by example: a false trail within the etymology of an idiom that stands for a false trail.

Apparently, the term was first used in a story by William Cobbett (1805), in which he claimed that as a boy he used a red herring (a cured and salted herring) to mislead hounds following a trail; ultimately, the story evolved to refer to a method of training hounds to follow an underlying scent—to not be distracted by a secondary scent. The story served as an extended metaphor for the London press, which had earned Cobbett’s ire by publishing what he deemed false news accounts regarding Napoleon.

In literature, a “red herring” can be defined as a narrative element used to distract the reader from something else. For instance, in Irwin Shaw’s Nightwork, the key narrative question is whether the thief will be caught. But, actually, that’s a device which allows the story to follow the thief around the world as he uses the stolen money to fix his eyes, to buy nice clothes, and to travel to jet-setting locales where he meets people who expand his horizons, and ultimately, who value him for the man he has become. The overarching narrative question is not about recovering the stolen money; it’s about the transcendent power of reinventing yourself. The stolen money is a red herring.

In film, red herrings are usually conveyed visually. An excellent example of this occurs in the 1947 suspense film The Spiral Staircase. The audience is aware that someone in the house is a serial murderer. Early in the film there is a thunderstorm: the pantry door abruptly opens to reveal the hulking figure of the caretaker Mr. Oates (actor Rhys Williams) framed in a flash of lightning as he bursts into the room. This is the first time the audience has seen this character; his distinctive entrance makes him seem sinister and aberrant, and therefore he is the obvious suspect in the murder mystery. But Oates is not the murderer; therefore this scene establishes him as a red herring.

In traditional mysteries, red herrings serve an even more important role. They are a tool that the author uses like a magician uses sleight of hand, to divert readers’ attention from the actual to the illusionary; if done well, readers believe what they’re witnessing.

Here are six ways red herrings are used in mysteries:

Overlooked detail – frequently this detail is a specific element in a description – a tore hem without an explanation of how it ripped, or a red rose in a vase when all those in the garden are yellow.

Wrong interpretation of known fact – a character assumes that the torn hem came from the narrow steps on the staircase. The author might have a character named Violet say:

“Oh, Lordie, how does that happen? Wouldn’t you think you’d notice when you tear your hem? I think you’d have to because you’d trip, wouldn’t you? I know I would! Like that time I was walking with Flora… well, never mind that… I bet Mary tore her hem yesterday on those stairs at the Sturley’s villa… did you notice how narrow those steps were? And steep, too. That’s an accident waiting to happen, if you ask me.”

What you don’t know, because the author is choosing not to tell you yet, is that Mary was running away from Tom’s unwanted advances, and she stumbled on a unseen root in the pathway.

As to that red rose, well Tom gave it to her when they met in the forest and Mary clutched it the entire way home. When she finally reached safety, she realized she was still holding the rose, and being a kind-hearted girl, she couldn’t bear throwing it away, so she stuck it in a vase.

Casual mention in conversation

Hmmm… do you recall how Violet speculated that Mary tore her hem at the Sturley’s villa yesterday? Why did she bring up her walk with Flora? Was it an irrelevant casual mention? Was it foreshadowing of an important clue to come? Or was it a red herring?

No reason for it to be significant to you unless you have specialized knowledge

This red herring option comes up all the time in my Josie Prescott Antiques Mysteries. Josie, an antiques appraiser, notices details that elude lay people—why wouldn’t she? She’s an expert in the field. Let’s say, for instance, that someone comes into her shop wanting to sell an antique watch fob. It’s marked 14K gold. From that one fact Josie will know that it’s unlikely the fob is an antique – most antique gold is 18K, not 14K, but the significance of that fact is likely to elude most readers, even if it registers as a bit unusual.

A related red-herring is the opposite—trusting an expert who’s wrong, a family doctor or a financial advisor, that sort of thing.

An absence of something that should be there

In addition to Sherlock Holmes’ barking dogs, consider a scene Stephen King once wrote about a woman coming into her kitchen with bags of groceries. She puts them on the counter, places items in cupboards—and then she notices a knife from her knife holder is missing. I’ve got to tell you my blood froze at that one... well if she finds the knife by a box U.P.S. had just delivered, she’d realize that her son had grabbed the knife to open the box which contained his spanking new baseball uniform... the missing knife was a red-herring... and perhaps foreshadowing.

Bandwagon Fallacy – a form of logical false-thinking

The Bandwagon Fallacy is committed whenever one argues for an idea based upon an irrelevant appeal to its popularity.

Let’s say, for example, that Violet, a jealous person, is not-so-secretly pleased at the glitch in Mary and Tom’s relationship. When Tom doesn’t attend Mary’s family’s party—a party he was invited to and RSVP’d for—Violet concludes that Mary has offended him.

Violet gossips with her girlfriends, telling them that Mary has always been a little stuck up and now look where it’s got her. Mary, she says, has obviously offended Tom—as evidenced by his being a no-show at the party; Mary has got what she deserved... she’s lost his affection. Soon all the girls in the neighborhood are telling all the other girls in the neighborhood the same story... it becomes the popular version of events... in the current lexicon, it’s an urban myth. However, its popularity is unrelated to its correctness—it’s a bandwagon fallacy—it’s a red herring.

One of the decisions a mystery writer must make is how many red herrings to introduce, and how best to use them. While there’s no magic formula, popular lore says that one or two are plenty. When done well, they add complexity to your plots and intrigue to your stories.

Join Jane at the Poisoned Pen Bookshop [4014 N. Goldwater Blvd Suite #101;

Scottsdale, AZ 85251] on May 8, 2010 for a discussion and workshop on Using Red Herrings in Traditional Mysteries. 2-4:30 p.m. For more information, please call 888-560-9919.

Jane’s multiple-award nominated and Independent Mystery Booksellers Association best-selling Josie Prescott Antiques Mystery series [St. Martin’s Minotaur] is often called an Antiques Roadshow for mystery fans. The series is set on the rugged seacoast of New Hampshire where Jane owned an antiques business for many years. Jane is the Chair of the Wolfe Pack’s literary awards, www.nerowolfe.org, and is a past president and current board member of the Mystery Writers of America/New York Chapter. “Engaging and ingenious.” Publishers Weekly www.janecleland.net