Murder, anyone?


I love a good murder.

Okay, there really isn’t such a thing as a “good” murder, even if the victim is hated by one and all. But I find myself enthralled on a daily basis by tales of crime and mayhem on either television or in books. I love the excitement of the chase; the intrigue; the clues. I suppose what I really adore is not the brutal act itself (no need to call the cops) but the puzzle left behind.

I have always loved puzzles. My brains seems to thrive on them. I work out the crossword every day and the cryptiquote. I love jigsaw puzzles, but have a hard time leaving one unfinished once I start. And so I turn to crime shows — CSI in all its incarnations; Law & Order; Monk; etc — for entertainment…for a chance to unwind.

As a child I played endless games of CLUE with my mother — and now play up to three different versions with my own children on those long, snowy weekends. 😉 Yes, I often win, but not always. My kids seem to have their mother’s aptitude for crime … they know how to put the pieces together and figure out the ‘who, what, when or why’.

So what exactly is the attraction? Why does my brain seem to require the stimulation of putting clues in place? Of ferreting out the red herrings? I’m not sure. But I do know it keeps my mind working. It seems to keep my young.

Maybe I should have been a cop? Nah. I’m much too squeamish and I prefer my ‘danger’ to be completely vicarious.

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