Some mystery writers just don't like cars and refrigerators. Such convenience machines make them nervous. So, these writers look to the past for material upon which to base a mystery. Also, these writers may be somewhat nauseated by the bloodiness of this century and turn to times past so they can bloody up our history by foisting more murders backwards in time. But, the rules governing time travel for mystery writers are rigorous and must not be violated or bent in any way. The penalty for doing so is that the writer could end up lost in the 14th century and outrunning the plague.

How Historical Mysteries are Done

1. There can be no doubt that the map is the key to historical mysteries. These navigational aids are not present in cozies or hardboiled fiction — or, if they are, the author has perpetrated a cross-genre faux pas. The map is to show the dimmer reader where things are in relation to each other.

2. The map must be, for all practical purposes, unintelligible. This creates suspense, particularly for the dim, as we attempt to decipher the tiny Old English typeface of the place names.

3. A pond is required on the map, whether it has anything to do with the crime or not. The pond, ideally, will be named after a wealthy family featured in the book; i.e., "The Witherspoon Pond," "Pembroke's Water," or "O.J. Simpson's Pool."

4. The story itself must be preceded by at least five epigraphs. This device shows scholarship, especially if one of the epigraphs comes from a vaguely familiar source that makes the reader feel stupid for being such a clod and cultural outsider. A good example is from The Alienist — "These bloody thoughts / from what are they born?" (From Verdi's Macbeth, and that's really obscure but you feel you should have heard it.)

5. The rules dictate that at least one of the jacket blurbs includes the word "atmospheric."

6. "The Rock" is not on the cover. That's a different kind of book, and, besides, it only seems like Dwayne Johnson is everywhere.

7. The first sentence of the historical mystery contains a reference to the corpse or corpses, as well as some word that is not in our modern vocabulary, some variation of "There were seven bodies ready to be taken out of the natron." This device must not mislead you into thinking that you are reading science fiction. There is no science in historical mysteries — they didn't know anything back then.

8. The murder may occur in one of three ways:
   • a blunt instrument (thus making the Neanderthal mystery not unthinkable, although, what would one name the pond?)

   • drowning (water was always around back then in plentiful supply) justifies the pond, the only intelligible feature of the map.

   • a cannonball in the chest (although, nix for the Neanderthal mystery — I know that much history.)

9. Mud.

10. The dialogue sounds peculiar.

11. No nudity or foul language is permitted — remember, those were the good old days before we became the wretches that inhabit modern fiction. Nobody knows how people reproduced in the past. Or, for that matter, how they let off steam, although the logical assumption is that the only steam valve was Murder Most Foul or starting a 100 years war.

12. The story takes place a long time ago (see We Got from There to Here Without a Jet).

Submitted by Polly Whitney, who wouldn't write an historical mystery because of the ban on cussing and, uh, reproduction.