Working Backwards
When people find out that I write the occasional mystery novel, the most common question I get is “so do you write the ending first and then work backwards?”
So, for anyone who might be wondering if I did that with “Art of the Chase,” the answer is no. However, I didn’t quite write it from beginning to end either. You could say I did it sideways, from the middle out.
Where Is the Middle Anyway?
For me, a mystery turns less on the beginning or the ending and more on the little bit of information that’s so interesting and surprising that it allows you to see certain things about what comes before it and after it.
For example: I was watching a documentary on the works of Vermeer. They talked a bit about how it was unusual for the time period that he used so much blue in his paintings, because it made them very expensive. Blue paint could only be produced with lapis lazuli stone, which had to be hand-ground and then processed in a very unpleasant, potentially dangerous procedure. You didn’t find many painters of that period using it as wantonly as he did.
The advent of French ultramarine produced chemically, in the 1880s, made it much easier and cheaper to work in blue. And it was this seemingly random fact that ended up being what the story turned on.
Because I started to think: what if you had a detective who specialized in art thefts? Would they know about the rarity of blue in Renaissance and Baroque painting? How would that knowledge come into play if a particular piece was stolen? I was starting in the middle. The middle of a story, the middle of a question, the middle of a period of history in which blue paint was a precious commodity.
Research Is The Fun Part
The process of writing is, for me at least, an opportunity to learn. I learn about myself, always; my biases, my areas of weakness as a writer, my own fascinations. But I also just learn about… well, stuff.
Almost everything I choose to write about requires some amount of research. And it’s always about something of interest to me. There’s nothing I love more than learning a lot about a topic of interest, in this case, art. And in particular, the life and work of Artemisia Gentileschi, the various methods of producing paint colors used by the old masters, and the architectural landscape of Florence. What a delight!
I fell down a rabbit hole, and popped up somewhere late in the third act with bits of fascinating information in my little paws like some sort of literary groundhog. The threads that connect my little prizes are ultimately what hold the story together. Why does this painter matter to this detective? What sort of thief would want to steal a piece of hers? And what does the history of blue paint have to do with any of it?
There is a Connection Here, I Swear
I spread my treasures out and draw lines from one to the next. I figure out why these things matter to each other, and so the story reveals itself. My plotting efforts tend to look less like a traditional bulleted outline, and more like a murder board with photos tacked up alongside post-it notes, connected by a brightly colored thread that runs from the middle out.
And I’m the lunatic cop who can stand back and see how it might all connect; who do I need my thief to be, my heroine, my informant? How do I build them to make these treasures shine and tickle my readers as much as they tickled me?
Ah, there it is. I see it. There’s my story. There’s my heroine. This is how she gets from here, to here, to there. There’s my thief. That’s what he wants, and why. It’s not a matter of working backwards or forwards. It’s a matter of allowing the story to emerge from the bits and pieces that delight me the most, and letting them surprise the reader as much as they surprised me.
When a notorious art thief surfaces, warring detective exes reunite for the hunt.
Six years ago, the “Fabulous Gustave” slipped the grasp of Agent Fleur van Beekhof, making off with a priceless artwork…and Fleur’s beautifully ordered life. Suddenly the cool, pragmatic Europol detective lost her detective partner and wife, her rising career, and her control, thanks to the addictive lure of cards.
When a new Italian art theft bears all the markings of Gustave’s flamboyant, taunting style, Fleur is put back in the field, because no one knows him better. She jumps at the chance to correct the mistake that ruined her life. The hitch? She has to work with her fiery ex-wife.
Where Fleur is a detective who loves art, Renata is an art expert who loves being a detective. Where Fleur is by the book, Renata is reckless and leaps into danger. But they’ll need both of their skills to catch the slipperiest thief Europe has ever seen … even if it shatters what’s left of Fleur’s heart.
Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/3963248351
Jen Giacalone is a neurodivergent queer nerd who has lived many lives and brings with her a wealth of experience to tell high-octane drama, thriller, and mystery stories across books, film, and TV.
After spending her twenties as a rock and roll frontwoman, and her thirties as a graphic designer in boardrooms of Fortune 500 companies, she’s currently in what she likes to call her “final form” as a writer.
You can usually find her disappearing down rabbit holes of fascinating research on random subjects that will turn up in one of her books. And, of course, she sprinkles a little glitter on everything she touches.
Ladies of Mystery 
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