Judy Alter: The Outrageous Cozy

Someone on a listserv recently suggested a new sub-genre for cozy mysteries: the noir cozy. Sure, it’s tongue-in-cheek because the two terms almost cancel each other out. But new sub-genres in mystery keep popping up. The other day I read an author’s suggestion of a Feminine Noir Thriller category.

Because “the mystery” as a literary genre is so varied, no one definition fits, so over the years sub-genres have developed: the traditional mystery (for which everyone keeps trying without success to find a definitive description), the sci-fi mystery, the thriller, the hard-boiled/noir, the police procedural, the historical, and of course the cozy. Sometimes—frequently—the lines between blur. For instance, is the romantic suspense novel a genre of its own or simply suspense with a bit of romance added? Is amateur sleuth a category or part of the cozy?

When talk of the cozy comes up—amateur sleuth, no blood, gore, or sex, limited world such as a small town—I always think of the Murder, She Wrote series, quite possibly the longest-running cozy series. Today, so capably written by Terrie Moran, the series is up to something like Number Fifty-Five. Some critics and readers think of it as the perfect example of mysteries that require willing suspension of disbelief on the part of the reader: What small town has that many murders? It’s a wonder anyone is left in Cabot Cove. Yet Jessica Fletcher goes merrily along, solving murders in her beloved hometown as well as exotic destinations. And we talk about the Cabot Cove Syndrome.

But I would suggest there’s a new kind of cozy coming into the market—the outrageous cozy. The reader is really asked to suspend disbelief with these books. Think for instance of Julie Mulhern’s Country Club Murders Series. Wealthy and widowed, artist Ellison Russell has probably stumbled over close to fifty bodies in fourteen books. She finds them in swimming pools, the hostas in her front yard, the country club parking lot, almost anywhere she goes. All these murders play out against the decline of country club social ways in the 1980s, with Ellison dealing with her domineering mother who insists on pearls, white gloves, and the “right way” to do things, her rebellious teen daughter, the cop she’s fallen in love with, and her oh-so-capable and almost psychic housekeeper. None of this would ever happen in real life, but it makes wonderful reading. You just have to suspend that disbelief you were unfortunately taught in school.

And then there’s Finley Donovan Is Killing It by Elle Cosimano. A struggling novelist and always-broke single mom, at the mercy of her selfish and crooked ex, Finlay is overheard talking about the plot of her novel that’s stalled, and she’s mistaken for a hit woman. Lured by an enormous pay-out, she goes along with the charade, thinking she can bow out at any time. Of course, that’s not as easy as it sounds, and she and her sidekick/nanny/housekeeper soon are embroiled in a string of adventures from getting caught masquerading in a shady bar to a remote grave site in the country. They come too close to that huge grave for comfort. It’s all outrageous—and witty and clever. Second book in the series, Finley Donovan Knocks ‘Em Dead, finds Finlay involved with soccer moms who are ought to kill her ex. He’s a good dad, she hates him, but she must keep him alive. The hilarity just keeps coming.

Somewhat brazenly, I even think my current series, Irene in Chicago Culinary Mysteries, might fit in this new category. There aren’t that many bodies, but there is an outrageous character. Irene Foxglove (a chef with the name of a poisonous plant) is a TV chef who defines the term “diva.” Her gofer, Henny James, tells the stories of the murder and mayhem that surround Irene whose behavior is so impulsive, so demanding, so difficult that any self-respecting criminal would have offed her long ago. After one book, Irene rekindles her love affair with the fabulously wealthy French father of her only child and spends her time jetting back and forth across the pond in his private jet, bringing trouble every time she returns to Chicago. Henny goes from amused exasperation to frustration to reminding herself she really is fond of her favorite diva.

I don’t think outrageous cozies will ever become a big trend, but they’re fun to read—and I’m having fun writing one.

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About Judy Alter

After an established career writing historical fiction about women of the nineteenth-century American West, Judy Alter turned her attention to contemporary cozy mysteries. When her publisher went out of business, she became an indie publisher and barely looked back. Her current series, Irene in Chicago Culinary Mysteries, features a TV diva chef and her gofer, an ambitious young cook from Texas.

Retired as the director of a small academic press, Judy is an active member of Sisters in Crime, Guppies, Women Writing the West, and the Texas Institute of Letters. When she is not writing, she is busy with seven grandchildren and a lively poodle/border collie cross. Her avocation is cooking, and she is the author of Cooking My Way Through Life with Kids and Books, Gourmet on a Hot Plate, and Texas is Chili Country, all available from Amazon