Cozy writing - by Harini Nagendra

Have you ever pulled punches in a plot? In other words, when it came time to kill someone, you let them live. Or when it came time to find out someone was a villain, you chose someone else? Or if the plot seemed to veer in a dark direction, you pulled back?

There's a reason I write cozies. And read them. I've never watched a horror movie, read a psychological thriller, or wanted to explore the dark side of life in fiction. Life has enough of the dark side, death can be horrific, and bad things happen around us all the time as it is. 

Given the way I feel - why do I write historical mysteries? I don't have the best of answers for you, or for myself - but I do know that I find it satisfying to solve a good puzzle, read a mystery with a twist, and 'see' justice done at the end. 

So yes, in my books I'm careful not to kill off the main protagonists or the really good folks - most of the time, anyway. Unless it's really needed for the plot. I'm happy to choose villains where the plot takes me - that's not been such a problem. But I can't imagine ever wanting to take the plot in a dark direction - at least not unless I can find enough sweetness to counterbalance the harsh flavors.

But as a writer of historical mystery, I can't completely veer away from the dark side of history. Take my 1920s colonial India book Murder Under A Red Moon, the second in the Bangalore Detectives Club series, for instance. In the scene below, I describe an incident that was commonplace in British India - where rats, snakes and other 'vermin' had a price on them, in a vain attempt to keep the city free of plague and other diseases - and young boys hunted them for money.

Kaveri skirted the twigs and the lathi-wielding constable, and started to go in. Then stopped in surprise when she saw a long line of raggedy-looking boys all between the ages of eight and twelve, clad in grimy loincloths, their ribs showing above bellies swollen with hunger. She looked at what they were holding in their hands, and took a couple of steps back. Each urchin held a number of dead rats in his hand. Flies buzzed noisily around the rats and the boys. She put her sari to her mouth, breathing through it heavily. 

‘What on earth?’ Kaveri turned to the constable. She saw Venu dart out from the door. ‘

Kaveri akka, what are you doing here? Come in, fast.’ 

He hurriedly dragged Kaveri inside, taking her to Ismail’s room. ‘The Inspector is not here. But he said I could use his room.’ 

Venu looked very proud of himself as he perched on the edge of a chair in the corner.

‘Why are you here? And what are those boys doing outside?’ Kaveri demanded. 

‘Didn’t you see the notice in the paper, akka? Because of the plague, the government has offered a reward for the extermination of rats. They will pay two annas for every dead rat brought to them. No one was taking it up, though, and I know a couple of friends of mine who are leaders of local groups of boys – they are all hungry – so I fixed it up with Inspector Ismail. They will come here and hand over the rats.’ 

Venu pointed outside. ‘There is a cart parked behind the station. Once each boy drops off his rats there, he gets a chit from the constable in charge, with the number of rats marked. Then he comes to the station and gets his money.’ 

Kaveri winced. ‘It is not safe for those children to be doing this—’ she began. 

 Venu interrupted her, saying fiercely, ‘What do you want them to do, akka? Just look at them. They are so hungry, they would probably eat the rats!’ 

I can't wish away reality - nor do I want to. 1920s India was a difficult place to live in for many Indians, especially the poor and powerless. But as a writer, I can choose what I want my characters to experience - and while they go through hardships, I want them to come out on the other side, with a good shot at a happy life. Even if it's fiction. Especially since it's fiction - and I'm writing it.