As a child, I spent most of my time with cozy mystery writers like Agatha Christie, P.D. James, Colin Dexter, Ellis Peters, and, of course, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. By saturating myself with mysteries, I grew accustomed to quick character development, red herrings, plot twists, and, of course, explanations. A good mystery must show the whodunnit, howdunnit, and whydunnit. If the mystery isn’t solved, then the protagonist is clearly not worth his weight in pages.
While both films take great liberties with the stories, I saw enough to get hooked on these writers for life.
Now I’ve got to admit something shameful: The first time I read Coraline–before motherhood and writing were serious endeavors–I…
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