The Best American Mystery Stories 2015

Foreword

Authors are seldom cultural icons in America. A vast number of young people cannot identify a photo of Joe Biden or Mitt Romney, have never heard of The New Yorker or The Atlantic, think Abraham Lincoln is the president of the United States (yes, a survey taken last year showed that 4 percent of Americans were confident that this was the case), and guess that Stephen Hawking is, like, um, a quarterback. Yet they can instantly recognize a photo of Katy Perry or Beyoncé and, in all likelihood, provide a comprehensive discography in relatively accurate chronology. But an author? Someone who writes the books from which their favorite films are so frequently adapted? No.

Publishers spend small fortunes advertising and marketing their star authors, and legions of writers work their fingers bloody tweeting, blogging, posting, and whatever else it’s possible to do on various social media. Authors make personal appearances at bookshops, libraries, universities, and whatever organizations will have them, and they give scads of interviews for newspapers, magazines, websites, radio programs, podcasts, and television shows. Nonetheless, most may as well be laboring in the Witness Protection Program for all the recognition they receive, while their books seemingly are released as documents that only those classified with top-level security clearance may locate.

Having made that (perhaps) hyperbolic statement, I should note that there are occasional exceptions to the anonymity of authors, and there is no greater refutation of the concept of anonymity than James Patterson, the guest editor of The Best American Mystery Stories 2015.

Several factors contribute to the recognizability of Patterson’s name and, more recently, likeness. First, predictably, is the enormous popularity of his books, largely instigated by his creation of Alex Cross, the African-American psychologist who works as a homicide detective in the Washington, D.C., police department. While most mystery writers struggle with the expectation of writing a book every year, the prolific Patterson increased his presence by writing multiple books every year, ultimately producing so many different series that he hired other authors to collaborate with him. When he began to add books for young readers to his opera, his output reached a book a month — every one of which sold enormous quantities (the New York Times reported that one out of every seventeen hardcover novels published in the United States since 2006 has been written by Patterson).

As books are being published with such regularity and in such impressive numbers, there is always a Patterson book on the bestseller list and in the front of the store, so it is impossible to avoid being reminded of his work and his name. He is now a “brand.” Also, and this is extremely unusual in the world of publishing, his books are advertised on television, frequently with the author onscreen, enticing potential readers while warning them of the scary stuff that awaits them.

Finally, Patterson has become a highly visible spokesman for literacy programs, to which he offers more than his name and image. He has initiated several programs to which he has contributed millions of dollars, most recently in the form of stipends to independent booksellers.

How he found the time to be the guest editor for this book is anyone’s guess. Why he agreed to do it is more complex. Trust me — it’s not for the money, which would be a rounding error for his monthly income. It’s not because he needs another book on the shelf to prove he works hard. I confess that I didn’t ask the question, lest he pause for a moment to ask himself what in the world he was doing.

Most likely Patterson has an affection for this important series and liked the idea of being part of it. I helped him assemble a library of great fiction (titles that he chose), reflecting his eclectic but elevated taste (he loves War and Peace, Ulysses, One Hundred Years of Solitude). It is evident that literature means a great deal to him, and let’s face it, having his involvement with this book will help sales (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt is even releasing a hardcover edition this year). A lot of contributors who are not household names will receive exposure that they would have been unlikely to have had otherwise.

As has been true every year (and this is the nineteenth volume in the series), this is a wonderful collection of original fiction about extremes of human behavior caused by despair, hate, greed, fear, envy, insanity, or love — sometimes in combination. Desperate people may consider desperate acts, and desperation is a fertile ground for poor choices. Many of the authors in this cornucopia of crime have described how antisocial solutions to difficult situations may occur, and why perpetrators feel that their violent responses to conflicts seem appropriate.

The psychology of crime has become the dominant form of mystery fiction in recent years, while the classic detective tale of observation and deduction has faded further into the background. Those tales of pure deduction may be the most difficult mystery stories to write, as it has become increasingly difficult to find original motivations for murder, or a new murder method, or an original way to hide a vital clue until the detective unearths it. The working definition of a mystery story for this series is any work of fiction in which a crime, or the threat of a crime, is central to the theme or the plot. The detective story is merely one subgenre in the literary form known as the mystery, just as are romantic suspense, espionage, legal legerdemain, medical thriller, political duplicity, and stories told from the point of view of the villain.

To find the best of these stories is a yearlong quest, largely enabled by Nat Sobel, the best literary agent in the world, and by my invaluable colleague, Michele Slung, who culls the mystery magazines, both printed and electronic, for suitable stories, just as she does short story collections (works by a single author) and anthologies (works by a variety of authors), popular magazines, and, perhaps the richest trove to be mined, literary journals. As the fastest and smartest reader I have ever known, she looks at somewhere between 3,000 and 5,000 stories a year, largely to determine if they are mysteries (you can’t tell a story by its title) and then to determine if they are worth serious consideration. I then read the harvested crop, passing along the best fifty (or at least those I liked best) to the guest editor, who selects the twenty that are then reprinted, the other thirty being listed in an honor roll as “Other Distinguished Mystery Stories.”

A word of thanks is more than appropriate for the previous eighteen guest editors (listed at the front of the book), who gave so much of their time and energy to help make this such a distinguished and successful series.

The search has already begun for suitable stories for next year’s edition. To qualify, a story must be — duh — a mystery, must be written by an American or a Canadian, and must have had its first publication in the calendar year 2015 in an American or Canadian publication. If you are the author of such a work, or its editor, or any interested party (your credentials will not be reviewed), please feel free to submit it. Every word of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, and The Strand is read, so there’s no need to waste postage on sending a story from them. If the story was first published online, only hard copies will be read; these must include the name of the e-zine, the date on which it was published, and contact information. No unpublished stories are eligible, for what should be obvious reasons. Submitted material will not be returned. If you do not trust the U.S. Postal Service to deliver the book, magazine, or tearsheets, please enclose a self-addressed postcard to receive confirmation.

The earlier submissions are received, the less hurriedly will they be read. Please send submissions to Otto Penzler, The Mysterious Bookshop, 58 Warren Street, New York, NY 10007. If your story is one of the fifty or sixty or more customarily delivered by thoughtless dunderheads during Christmas week, it may not receive quite the same respectful reading as those submitted in less crowded months. If the story is published during the last week of the year, okay, fair enough. But if it was published in the spring and you just got around to sending it, I will view it as a personal affront and an attempt to ruin my Christmas celebrations; you will have had to write an extraordinary story for me to forgive you. Because of the unforgiving deadlines necessarily imposed on a work of this nature, the absolute final date for receiving material is December 31. This is neither an arrogant nor a whimsical decision, but is essential in order for production schedules to be met. If it arrives on January 2, it will not be read. Yes, really.

O.P.