Published in Sisters in Crime Quarterly 2020
THE CRITIQUE GROUP MURDER
by Judith Ayn
Law enforcement investigators have finally unraveled the motive behind the killing of a popular author by another member of a weekly writers critique group.
The receipt of a written confession confirms the alleged murderer targeted the victim from the beginning of his year-long membership in the group, and carried out the plan on Tuesday evening.
Dear Reader:
By the time you open this letter, it will be too late to stop me from killing someone who truly needs to die.
Please understand, every Tuesday afternoon, week after week for the past year, I’ve been present at Dan’s modern, museum style home. The cold environment of the house complements the frigid hearts of my fellow critique group members.
As leader and host of the group, Dan rules with an iron fist. We assemble promptly at four in the afternoon, and it’s rare for anyone to miss a meeting. The ongoing collection of authors has consisted of the same host and three other initial members for a half dozen years. Various new members filled the last two spots, until Tanya and I arrived, exactly one year ago tomorrow.
I have spent a year of my life chasing after praise and affirmation from other writers I considered possibly equal to me. My goal: finish and polish the mystery manuscript about a disgraced detective-turned killer. Presented chapter by chapter, from opening words to close, the novel has been offered up, much as an innocent newborn child, for review and possible revision.
Weekly, my work has been torn to shreds by everyone except Henny, a shy older woman, producer of sweet romances. Henny always offers praise such as, “I think your dialog sounds like real people.” Her comments are delivered in a quivering voice. The rest of the members snicker when she speaks. Unfortunately, Henny’s showing signs of dementia and needs to have everyone’s work explained again at each session.
As a good little critiquer, I listen to Tanya’s ridiculous dragon fantasy and offer suggestions for making it more readable. She snorts at my ideas, then laughs and thanks me for the input. The following week, she brings in a rewrite, not one of my recommendations included. Rewrites are normally discouraged, but an obvious exception made, of course, for Tanya’s masterpiece.
Dolly-Mae, our token Southerner, serves her cozy mystery with a plate of cookies each Tuesday. They are to die for. Her book is already dead — an inane tale about a woman who preserves fruit and solves murders in her little hamlet. This woman’s thick accent and nasal whine make me want to cram at least a dozen cookies down her gullet.
Michael, our thriller writer, offers damn good stuff. The group suggests small tweaks, which he claims improves the book. I suspect he’s reading from something already published, but I can’t prove it. Otherwise, why does he waste his time with us?
Dan, a technical writer by day, shares a shallow memoir, a few scant pages at a time. He’s more concerned with facilitating, assigning one of us in rotating order to bring drinks to go with Dolly-Mae’s cookies. Whoever provides the beverages pours for everyone. Last week I decided to add a little kicker to one of the cups before it was served.
When, at the last meeting, Dolly-Mae produced peanut butter cookies, someone offered a tart lemonade chaser. Expressions on the faces of my fellow writers at this combination were priceless. Over the course of the evening, several people walked rather hurriedly to Dan’s clean-enough-for-surgery guest bathroom.
I joined this group for respectful comments from other authors, but eventually realized I did not need their grief. Thanks to these people, I’ve learned a precious few things about writing, but more importantly, valuable ideas about murder. Such knowledge demands testing. Therefore, I scheduled one of the group to die a mysterious, horrible death.
I would caution anyone to think twice about joining a group like mine, or at least continuing in it. Enough is enough!
I’m not sorry for what I have done. Again, the victim deserved to die.
Sincerely,
Your New Favorite Bestselling Author
[700 Words]