Sleepwalking Murder in Fact & Fiction

My brother was a sleepwalker, and I still remember with unease my childhood encounters with him in the night--appearing silently in my room, shuffling past down a dark hall, mumbling to unseen companions as he moved blind-eyed through his dream world. The strange phenomenon of sleepwalking has been the basis for real and fictional murder mysteries. One of the most famous cases of homicidal sleepwalking was that of Kenneth James Parks, a married 23-year-old Canadian man who left his bed in the early morning hours of May 1987, and, still asleep, drove to his in-laws' home where he assaulted his father-in-law and stabbed his mother-in-law to death. The next thing he said he could recall was arriving at the police station, saying “I think I have killed some people...” Despite skepticism of his sleepwalking defense, his consistent story, lack of motive, the testimony of sleep specialists and abnormal EEG readings resulted in his acquittal by a jury. Sleepwalking has captivated fictional mystery writers as well. In last year's The Sleepwalker by Chris Bohjalian, Annalee Ahlberg goes missing, and her daughters assume another sleepwalking incident. Annalee's husband flies home from a business trip, and search parties comb the nearby woods, but only a small swatch of nightshirt fabric hanging from a tree branch is found. Drawn to a detective who continues to stop by, her older daughter begins to wonder about the detective's motives, why no body has been found, and why incidents seem to occur when her father is absent. Another eerie entry from 2013 is The Nightwalker by Sebastian Fitzek: Leon Nader had been violent as a young man while sleepwalking but believes he has been cured by psychiatric treatment—until his wife disappears from their apartment. Nader fits a movement-activated camera to his forehead, and when he looks at the video the next morning, he makes an unimaginable discovery about his nocturnal personality. In 2011, B. Michael Radburn published The Crossing set in Tasmania. Traumatized by the disappearance of his daughter, Taylor Bridges' marriage breaks down, and he exiles himself to Tasmania's Glorys Crossing as the only national park ranger in an isolated town slowly disappearing under the rising waters of a new dam project. Taylor is a chronic sleepwalker, and when another young girl of the same age as his lost daughter goes missing, he begins to worry about his unknown behavior while sleepwalking. Among the more traditional novels about sleepwalking homicide are The Ivory Dagger by Patricia Wentworth, in which her sleuth Miss Silver solves the case of a young woman, prone to sleepwalking, who is accused of murdering her wealthy (but disagreeable) fiance, and I've Heard That Song Before by Mary Higgins Clark, in which a young woman who begins to doubt her new husband's suspicious nighttime wanderings, especially since he is connected with a vanished former girlfriend, a drowned wife, and bodies newly discovered on his estate. For more true stories of homicidal sleepwalking, see https://www.thoughtco.com/homicidal-sleepwalking-is-it-real-4098185

How Mystery Writers Can Color in Emotion

Passing through a bookstore, I noted the now-common section devoted to adult coloring books, and I began to think about the role of color in fiction writing, including mysteries.  Color has a proven ability to evoke emotion; there's a reason fast-food logos and ads lean toward appetite-stimulating red and yellow, business materials opt for a trust-inspiring blue, and European prisons paint their walls a calming pink. But the power of color is not limited to the visual arts, online and offline advertising, or interior decor. When we read, we create pictures in our minds, and mystery authors' descriptions of settings, characters and clues are rarely black-and-white snapshots. The color of a suspect's dress, the colors of a winter forest or tropical jungle, or the color of a murder-scene carpet can offer both symbolic meaning that enriches the plot and clues to solving the mystery. A character's color choices can be used to reveal personality traits or emotional states, for example; note that psychiatrist Carl Jung found that introverts and extroverts prefer different colors--blue and red respectively. So if the writer introduces a woman wearing red, she probably does not want to be a wallflower. Sometimes the contrast between color choices and character hint at deception or conflict. Is the big guy in a pink shirt just supremely confident, disguising his aggression or hinting at a less masculine side? Doubt that color has a place in even the most "noir" of mysteries? Consider color's frequent evocative use in mystery titles. As an example, Walter Mosley's Devil in a Blue Dress sets up tension before the first page by pairing the evil and power of "devil" with the trustworthy and inviting aspects associated with "blue." Meanwhile, P.D. James' The Black Tower purposely paints the tower black--the color of power, death, and evil--to create a looming gloom.  (For the literary, it also evokes W.B Yeats' poem of the same name where "in the tomb the dark grows blacker.") Some mystery writers even make color a title theme, such as Ann Cleeves' Shetland series, which includes Blue Lightning, Red Bones, White Nights, and Raven Black. John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee series uses color in all 21 titles, starting with The Deep Blue Good-by through National Book Award-winner The Green Ripper to the final The Lonely Silver Rain. One caveat on coloring fiction prose: Be aware that color psychology differs by culture. For example, white is the color of purity and innocence in Western cultures and the color of death and mourning in Eastern cultures. For a quick overview of color psychology, see http://changingminds.org/disciplines/communication/color_effect.htm