Murder, She Binged
I love Prince. I love romance novels. I love murder mysteries and detective procedurals.
Murder, She Wrote. Perry Mason. Columbo. Poirot. Sherlock. Midsomer Murders. Bones. Murdoch Mysteries. Castle. Grantchester. Endeavour. Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. Dalgliesh. Magnum, P.I. Vienna Blood. Mystery! The Glades. The Brokenwood Mysteries. Death in Paradise. My Life is Murder. Whitstable Pearl. Magpie Murders. Recipes for Love and Murder. Candice Renoir. The Mallorca Files. Get Millie Black. The Art of Crime. Signora Volpe. London Kills. Fosca Innocenti. Inspector Manara. The Madame Blanc Mysteries. Republic of Doyle.
I need a busybody constantly discovering a dead body in a small fictional town. A by-the-book cop paired with a chaotic civilian consultant. A private investigator who can barely keep it in his pants long enough to solve the crime. An asexual genius who raises a single eyebrow at village secrets. I need British innuendo. Italian ardor. New Zealand intrigue. American entitlement. Spanish deception. French finagling.
Murder, She Wrote is a gotdamn genius show! Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury) is a retired English teacher whose nephew secretly submitted a manuscript she’d been chipping away at since her husband passed. She becomes an instant best-selling success, while solving real life murders in her spare time. Jessica is a mature, child-free woman living a rich life full of friends and travel. She doesn’t know how to drive but she rides her bike all over Cabot Cove. While she may not have any biological children, she has a whole treasure chest full of nieces and nephews she loves and saves from jail by solving the murders they always seem to be suspected of committing. Some of her closest friends are men who don’t hit on her, although there might’ve been a little wisp of something between her and Seth Hazlitt, the town doctor, but the show never went there. That doesn’t mean Jessica didn’t have options. There might be snow on the roof, but the fire in the hearth is burning bright! The old coots on that show loved her, but she was devoted to her late husband Frank. More than that, it’s important to see an older woman living a fulfilling, vibrant, active life without romance, without children, without a traditional job. Don’t just watch Murder, She Wrote and wonder if Jessica is actually a serial killer everyone overlooks just because she’s an old white lady. Watch the show and see that life can get a second wind, even in the midst of grief. You can make a difference after retirement, after widowhood, even if you’re not a mother. I just love Jessica Fletcher’s nosy ass.
Deadloch is one of the best crime procedurals I’ve seen in a long time. It’s a dark comedy series set in a small Tasmanian town where a lot of queer women have moved in recent years, upsetting many of the locals. Especially the cis straight white men. How surprising. Soon, some of those men start turning up dead. Dulcie Collins is a senior sergeant who used to be a police detective, but her wife Cath strong-armed them into moving to Deadloch to avoid the stress of life in Sydney. Dulcie is in a little over her head but also maybe secretly thrilled to be able to do more than help shoo a seal off a pedestrian bridge. However, Detective Eddie Redcliffe gets sent in to manage the investigation, outranking Dulcie, but Eddie is a hot, sloppy mess. Imagine if Columbo and Jake Peralta (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) had a brown baby girl. Like Dulcie, Eddie arrives in Deadloch a little against her will, but they try to work together, with very different styles, as the dead bodies and red herrings stack up.
This show takes every prestige thriller trope and gives it the finger. In one scene, the police are escorting a victim’s body to a more sophisticated crime lab. We see the procession in slow motion while key players are shown also in slow motion, no dialogue, arguing with each other. Haunting music sets the audience on edge. We’re looking at clues and darkness here, people. Then one of the observers suddenly shouts “oi! You’re going the wrong way!” The procession and music stop. The cops make the clumsiest k-turns, hitting curbs and fumbling over their steering wheels. After they correct their mistake, the moody music and slow motion arguing amongst suspects begins again. It’s perfect.
The first season is eight episodes and focuses on this one mystery- who is killing all the men in town and why- but like any good piece of art, there is so much more! Who gets to be an ally? How much penance should one pay to soothe a breach of trust in a relationship? How do you balance your career against the expectations of your relationship? What’s the point in running away if your troubles follow you? Weaponized therapy. Gender stuff. Colonialism. White guilt. Queer utopia– possible or nah? That dark humor soil is rich with goodies, and I cannot recommend Deadloch enough. I can’t wait for the second season.
Now listen. Ay Cee Ay Bee, okay. Don’t get it twisted. People have strong feelings about copaganda, and rightly so. I’ve been watching police detectives solve crimes for as long as I can remember. I’m talking about Dragnet and Kojak reruns with my jumbo crayons and applesauce. AND YET somehow my lived experiences and regular press headlines have managed to keep me from slapping a Blue Lives Matter sticker on my laptop.
The reasons I like mysteries and procedures are simple. I talked about this a little bit in the Bones chapter in my memoir. A terrible thing happens and is made right. The mystery is solved. I have no idea what my tomorrow will look like, but I know Thomas Magnum’s hoochie daddy shorts will walk a killer to jail. In a murder mystery, someone will fight for you, even after you’re gone. Somebody did you dirty and they won’t get away with it. The situation can get messy and hopeless, but someone creates order. Then they do it all over again in the next episode.
I don’t even try to solve the mystery any more. I just need to know that even in a fictional coastal town filled with people with funny accents, someone cares enough to make everything right. It doesn’t have to be pretty or neat or easy, but somehow, in the end, everything works out.
I also recently binged the first season of Wild Cards, which I really enjoyed. A very attractive con artist gets paired with a very attractive demoted detective. Shenanigans! Sexual tension! Trauma bonding! One episode features one of my favorite procedural premises: one of the mismatched pair is running errands at a bank when it gets held up by masked bandits. The other one wants to go in all reckless— THAT’S MY PARTNER IN THERE!— but figures out how to sneak in and we get to see how well they read each other in crisis situations. Just ladle it over my head. I love it. Wild Cards is cheesy and light. I’m into it.
Here is a playlist I made called “Rocket Funk.” It’s a funk playlist for when you are high and horny. You don’t have to indulge in satan’s cilantro, or even sip the devil’s juice, to enjoy it, but I will warn you… it is dangerous. My friend M said, “This Rocket Funk playlist should be called: Nichole’s Chaos Agent Presents: Bad Decisions 🤦🏾♀️😩” I am not responsible for any wild texts you send, any babies you conceive, or any souls you snatch.
Fan Service by Rosie Danan is a contemporary romance that comes out in March 2025, but I read an advanced copy via NetGalley. Alex used to run THE fansite for a werewolf detective show during her teen years. It’s been off the air for almost a decade but its star Devin is having a hard time moving on… especially once he starts turning into a wolf in real life. Since Alex compiled all the show lore and now works as a veterinary assistant, it makes perfect sense that she’d be able to help him figure out his new occasionally hairy existence. Beyond the mildly spicy romance at its heart, the novel also highlights things like the harm of fandoms and unhealthy trauma responses. Y’all know I love me a werewolf so I was very much into this book. I recommend this if you grew up with fanfic, watched all the Whedon stuff, and/or frequented fansites of your favorite tv shows.
I have become addicted to a game called Bus Out. (I don’t play it with sound). Send help.
Thank you for sharing your writing. I always read yours first. 😍 I'm excited to listen to that playlist!