Ravens were all over the place in an X-Files episode at the beginning of the month. Their mysterious presence permitted Agent Mulder to reveal his knowledge of miscellaneous corvine strangenesses, including their place in Celtic mythology but alas, in so doing, he breathed nary a word on their connection with the prognostic rhyme. But the oddities continued even after the episode's closing woo woo theme music had dissipated into the aether, for on the same network a week or so later, several characters in That 70s Show were less than thrilled to discover that they had just eaten a meal of crows. The cook had apparently mistaken the birds for pheasants - an error it's safe to say John's servant Peter would never make.

But since it's commonly said that events travel in threes, we can only hope Fox TV isn't planning a sweeps week programme depicting the inevitable shambles that occurs When Good Ravens Turn Bad.

Speaking of shambles and general strangenesses, this Orphan Scrivener will flap in at the peak of tax return season. As Benjamin Franklin famously remarked, death and taxes alike are inevitable, and from there it's only a short leap to their link, ie wills. As it happens, not long ago I was reading selections from Corpus Juris Civilis, the great codification of Roman law assembled at Justinian's command. Published over the six years ending in 535 (the year in which One For Sorrow is set) Corpus Juris Civilis is generally acknowledged as the foundation of civil law today, a rather startling thought to say the least but doubtless one which Justinian would find pleasing.

In any event, one section of the Corpus lists classes barred from witnessing wills. Those named include minors, slaves, women, the mentally afflicted and those who cannot hear or speak. Yet under contemporary civil law, a will was legally valid if the person making it recited it in front of seven witnesses - an excellent scenario for a murder mystery if ever I saw one.

NECESSARY EVIL aka THE BSP TICKER

But before even approaching the point of coming to blows, we'll have constructed a rough plot outline divided into scenes - no details to speak of, mainly just who does what and when and where. Enough to get started, but not so much as to take the fun out of "discovering" the story as we write it. We might know that John is going to speak to a beggar woman and discover an important clue, but we don't necessarily know exactly what turns their conversation will take. That's the fun of the writing.

So far as individual methods go, Mary thinks and thinks and then whips through a scene before going back to rewrite. I tend to scribble notes and do my rewriting slowly as I go along (which is possible only because of word processors!) At any rate, once we finish the scenes we've chosen to write, we turn them over to our co-writer for "editing", which can be light or heavy.

The further we progress in the outline the more the projected story tends to change. We add, and subtract, scenes and characters, and we might even find out we've initially tabbed the wrong person for the murder!

Our discussions are almost always about ideas, settings, characters, plot twists, clues. Those are what most readers, including myself, read for - not for individual words. I don't much care if a writer hangs an occasional participle so long as I give a hang about the characters. Which is not to say we don't pay any attention to using good grammar and effective words, but that is just the polish. Flaubert was perfectly entitled to his eternal quest for "le mot juste" but if you ask me he's caused aspiring writers a lot of grief!

AND FINALLY

Otherwise, we'll see you in a couple of months.

Best wishes to all

Mary and Eric
maywrite@epix.net