Monday, February 23, 2026

MYSTERY READERS JOURNAL NEWS FOR 2026: Subscribe now!



Mystery Readers Journal Subscription for 2026

It’s time to subscribe (or renew) your subscription to Mystery Readers Journal for 2026. 


Themes in 2026. Volume 42, Mystery Readers Journal

Fetes, Faires, and Festivals (Volume 42:1)

Mysteries set in France (42:2)

Cross-Genre Mysteries (42:3)

Mysteries set in India (42:4)


Each issue (80-100 pages) is filled with articles, author essays, and reviews on a specific theme!   

 

PDF SUBSCRIPTIONS:

Mystery Readers Journal (Volume 42) will be going digital (PDF) for all subscriptions. Price remains the same. $15/calendar year.

You will receive download instructions as each issue is published. First issue in 2026 will be out in late March.

SUBSCRIBE HERE

https://mysteryreaders.org/subscribe/


PRINT EDITIONS:

We know that many readers enjoy a PRINT COPY. We will be setting up Mystery Readers Journal, starting with Volume 42:1 (2026), offering print-on-demand. The quality of the print-on-demand issues will be exactly the same as the past printed issues with our same unique size and perfect binding.

As each issue is published, people who prefer print copies will receive an email with a link on how to order that individual issue. In addition, the website will have the links for each issue as published. 

You do not have to subscribe to the PDF subscription to order 2026 print-on-demand issues of MRJ. 

Of course, if you do subscribe for a PDF subscription and still want the print copy, you can always take the PDF to your local printer.

Hope you will support Mystery Readers Journal, now in our 42nd year.

For more information on past themed issues of Mystery Readers Journal





 

Sunday, February 22, 2026

Writing Beyond The Fields You Know: Guest Post by Christopher Huang

Letterbox. Gosh-darn, bloomin’ letterboxes. 

It’s a bit too late to change this, I’m afraid, but apparently I have allowed a little hint that I am not, in fact, a native of 1920s England to creep into my latest book, A Pretender’s Murder. An advanced reader review has pointed out that the correct British term for the slots in doors that postmen drop your letters through is “letterbox,” not “mail slot” as I’d written. These mail slots or letterboxes aren’t really a thing anywhere I’ve been in North America, so I thought that any English-language word for them would be the British one. Now I must assume then that there exists some Anglophile corner of the US or Canada that has these things … or do North Americans simply insist on having their own words for things they do not have? 

Such are the pitfalls of not writing in your own world. Not that I’m going to let that stop me. I’ve already corrected the one instance of “mail slot” in my next book and I’m immersing myself right back into this period I’ve never lived in and this place I only ever visit. 

I’m hardly alone here. H.R.F. Keating was an Englishman who set eight or nine novels in India before actually setting foot in India; and then, only because Air India took note of his novels and extended an invitation to fly him to Bombay. But if Keating’s books are loved, it is because of the care he took in portraying the setting and the compassion he had for voices not his own. He did the best he could with the resources available to him at the time, and succeeded. So I, with the internet at my fingertips and centuries of British literature for reference, have no excuse. If you’re writing in a culture outside your own, you had better be the best reflection of that culture as you can possibly be. 

Remember, when Ronald Knox wrote that “no Chinaman must figure in the story,” it was meant as a shot against lazy stereotyping and the exoticism of the “other”, far too common in the “yellow peril” thrillers of his time. We do not want Chinamen, no: we want Chinese people. As such, you get a pass if you write your “Chinamen” — shorthand here for any characters of a different race or culture from you — as human beings. And you want that pass. It represents the difference between cultural appropriation (bad!) and cultural exchange (good!). Keating got that pass, and I think the key there is equal parts curiosity and humility. You learn and you keep learning. You remember that you are a student with limited knowledge, not an all-knowing professor. You accept the invitation to visit Bombay, and you care when someone points out that you’ve gone and called your letterboxes by the wrong term. 

Also, you amplify the voices of those who know through lived experience rather than through mere scholarship. Though that’s probably not much of an issue when, in your case, the “voice of lived experience” is Agatha Christie. 

But now you must be wondering, why do this at all? The writing gurus all say to “write what you know.” And even if you do manage to win the Chinaman pass, the risk of losing it again never really goes away. Is that really what you want? 

Well, see, there’s actually a peculiar advantage to writing outside of your place and time. To explain, let me begin by saying that I lived the first twenty years of my life in Singapore, and the last thirty in Canada. You’d think I’d therefore be more comfortable writing about Singapore in the 1980s or about Canada in the present day. But what if I were to make the same “letterbox” mistake writing about either of these settings? A mistake about 1920s England can be dismissed as a minor research failure. One must study so many things about foreign settings that one or two errors are bound to slip through. But a mistake about 1980s Singapore as one who claims to have lived the entire decade there? Fraud! Pretender! 

No, no. It’s much easier to write about a place where, for the most part, I know what it is that I don’t know. It’s easier to be humble and curious about a thing when one is not automatically expected to have known it all through lived experience. Familiarity, as they say, breeds contempt, and the absolute last thing you want as a writer is anything approaching contempt for your setting. I have to admire, therefore, the writers who find magic and mystery in their present-day surroundings, but I was built for complacency and require a little added distance to spark fascination. 

Besides, it has happened once before, and I’m sure it can happen again: somewhere around my eighth or ninth book, perhaps British Airways will take note and extend an invitation to fly me to London, free of charge. I will keep a watchful eye on my (ahem!) letterbox. 

***
Christopher Huang was born and raised in Singapore, and now lives in Canada with a terminal case of Anglophilia and a degree in architecture that seems to translate more into fictional worldbuilding than into real-world buildings. He is the author of mysteries set in 1920s England: A Gentleman's Murder and its sequel, A Pretender's Murder, featuring the Anglo-Chinese amateur sleuth Eric Peterkin; as well as the stand-alone mystery Unnatural Ends.

Wednesday, February 18, 2026

LA TIMES BOOK PRIZES: Finalists -- Mystery/Thriller and more!

 

The finalists for the 2025 Los Angeles Times Book Prizes in several categories have been announced. Prizes will be awarded on Friday, April 17, 2026.

All books are of interest, of course, but for this blog, here are the finalists in the Mystery/Thriller category. Congratulations to all. 


Also of interest is the Fiction category:




The Professor and the Prisoner: Guest Post by Andrew McAleer

In the 1960s, Edgar winner John McAleer didn’t spend his days in a maximum-security prison brooding. Instead, he masterminded a brilliant escape plan using nothing more than a set of typewriter keys.
As McAleer recounted in the Epilogue of his novel Unit Pride, one September morning in 1965, he entered his Boston College office to find on his desk a single letter addressed to him in a boyish scrawl. “Across the first page, in letters red and bold as a cutlass wound, was stamped the single word—CENSERED.” 

The letter writer, William “Billy” Dickson, was serving time in Cedar Junction “Walpole” State Penitentiary—then Massachusetts’s maximum-security prison. How he got there his letter didn’t say.
Billy wrote McAleer with questions about a review McAleer had written for the Boston Globe regarding Theodore Dreiser.  A review, Billy felt the need to add, that he’d “retrieved from a wastebasket.”

McAleer thought Billy’s questions were worthy of response, so, slipping on his professor’s cap, McAleer answered them in detail. The professor’s response would ignite a 1,200-letter correspondence between professor and prisoner. 

“I had no idea,” McAleer wrote, “what its implications would be for Billy. Into the dark well that he inhabited someone had lowered a rope’s end. He grabbed hold of it and held on as though his life depended on it, as, in fact, it probably did.”

Edgar winner & Boston College Professor John McAleer with Korean War combat veteran William “Billy” Dickson. McAleer & Dickson wrote UNIT PRIDE while Dickson was serving a 30-year bid for bank robbery.

McAleer never asked Billy why he was doing time. Instead, he sent Billy lists of books he should read—Crime and Punishment, Moll Flanders, Pepy’s Diary. “Billy,” McAleer noted, “took in information like a sea sponge takes in moisture.”

At the end of three months Billy came clean about his incarceration. He was convicted of bank robbery, took a hostage, and was now doing a 30-year bid. As it turned out, the bank teller he held up was McAleer’s sister-in-law and this writer’s aunt, Alice. In any event, if Billy thought bank robbery was his calling, he couldn’t have been more mistaken.  

In 2007, at age 91, Alice still recalled the botched hold-up in vivid detail. “I remember he [Billy] slid me a note,” she said, “and I slid it back to him because I thought it was a slip to open a new account and I didn’t handle that. Then he slid it back to me and I thought he was being fresh, so I slid it back to him again.  He was a lousy bank robber.”

Despite the “Alice” connection, McAleer continued the correspondence and began visiting Billy in prison. Upon learning that Billy, at age 17, served front-line duty in Korea, McAleer—a WWII-veteran—encouraged Billy to write about his wartime experiences. Having seen so many lives torn and shattered in WWII, McAleer saw Billy as a troubled veteran, who, like so many others, found it difficult to adjust.
McAleer critiqued his new student’s initial writing attempt.

“Billy’s first ‘chapter’ reached me a week later…. It was ungrammatical, wooden abrupt…. Yet the picture was not altogether bleak. His dialogue…was honest in its thrust. His pace was brisk. His capacity for serving up incidents both unusual and exciting showed promise…  Most striking of all was the evidence that Billy had total recall.”

McAleer outside his Carney Hall-Boston College office circa 1980s.

The co-writers met regularly at Walpole Prison. In a fifteen-month period from March 1966 and June 1967, they had produced a 1000-page manuscript they could call a novel. The accomplishment came with a price, however; “prison life” changed McAleer.

 “Unwittingly, I came to share some of [Billy’s] attitudes, finding myself, for example, as mistrustful of the screws (the guards) at the prison as he was. I suspect they knew it, too. Because they always frisked me thoroughly when I came to call. They never found any contraband on me, however, because the only thing I was smuggling was ideas.”

The freshly typed manuscript titled, The Platoon, became the tool McAleer used to loosen the parole board’s grip. Impressed with Billy’s rehabilitation, parole released him in time to stand in as this writer’s godfather in August 1967.

Billy (whose marriage survived his incarceration) would go on to have another son and attend his daughter’s wedding in 1973. McAleer recalled the occasion, “Billy grabbed my arm as we sat there talking in the waning hours of the reception. ‘You’re my best friend,’ he said, ‘I want you to know that.’ I knew also that it meant a hell of a lot for him to say that…. Seven months later Billy was dead—stabbed to death by a disgruntled employee of his cleaning business. Only one newspaper took notice—fives lines under the caption ‘Ex-Con Slain.’ Seven years of going straight didn’t matter.”

McAleer went on about his fellow veteran, “At the cemetery an American flag draped Billy’s coffin and they played taps over his grave. It never sounded lonelier. His country at least remembered him as a man who got blown up, machine-gunned, and bayoneted…and not a one-shot bank robber who spent eleven years in prison paying for his mistake.”  

So tragic was Billy’s death that it wasn’t until 1978 that McAleer could pick up the manuscript again and only did so at the behest of Billy’s widow.

McAleer reflected, “Although Billy wasn’t there to hold me in check or spur me on, in effect I made no move without consulting him. Would Billy like this? Would he have my ass for that?”  
After a 450-page trim and title change, Unit Pride was released in 1981 (Doubleday & Bantam). The Ontario Globe credited it as the definitive novel of the Korean War and Best Sellers as one of the most harrowing depictions of the horrors of war ever written. 

Mission completed, McAleer looked back on that September morning in 1965, when he first learned of a man named Billy Dickson.

“At last I rested from labors begun fifteen years earlier when a man in prison pulled me out of a wastebasket, like a rabbit out of a hat. Would I have written that review had I known all that would have become of it? I like to think so. It’s weird, I admit, but I like saying yes to life. It’s more interesting that way.” 
***
 
Andrew McAleer is the best-selling author of the Detective Henry von Stray classic British crime series created by Edgar winner John McAleer. Von Stray’s adventures appear in A Casebook of Crime Volume One. A second von Stray collection, A Casebook of Crime Volume Two, is scheduled for release in March 2026 (Level Best Books). Mr. McAleer taught classic crime fiction at Boston College and served in Afghanistan as a U.S. Army Historian before returning to public service in the criminal justice system. Visit the Henry von Stray Museum of Criminal Artifacts at:  www.Henryvonstraymysteries.com
 
  

Tuesday, February 17, 2026

CHINESE NEW YEAR MYSTERIES: Year of the Horse


恭賀發財

Gung Hay Fat Choy! This is the Year of the Horse.

To celebrate the Chinese New Year, I've updated my list of mysteries that take place during Lunar New Year Celebrations. As always, I welcome any additions. I'd like to include other Asian New Year Crime Fiction, so please send author/titles.

CHINESE NEW YEAR MYSTERIES

The Corpses Hanging Over Paris by Cathy Ace

The Chinese Parrot by Earl Derr Biggers
Between a Wok and a Hard Place by Leslie Budewitz
Year of the Dog by Henry Chang 
Peking Duck and Cover by Vivien Chien
Year of the Dragon by Robert Daley 
Serpent's Doom by Connie di Marco

Neon Dragon by John Dobbyn
Dim Sum Dead by Jerrilyn Farmer 
The Silent Girl by Tess Gerritsen
Murder on Bamboo Lane by Naomi Hirahara

Chop Suey by Ty Hutchison 
The Skull Cage Key by Michael Marriott
The Shanghai Moon by S.J. Rozan
The Chinese Chop by Juanita Sheridan

City of Dragons by Kelli Stanley

Breezy Friends and Bodies: A Raina Sun Mystery by Anne R. Tan
The Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee by Robert Van Gulik (7th Century China) "New Year's Eve in Lan-Fang"

 Children and Young Adult:

The Nancy Drew Notebooks: The Chinese New Year Mystery by Carolyn Keene
The New Year Dragon Dilemma by Ron Roy 
Red Envelope Mystery: The Secret of the Chinese New Year


Short stories:

 "The Lady Fish Mystery" by Mary Reed and Eric Mayer, EQMM, September/October 1996.
"Murder Keeps No Calendar" by Cathy Ace.