One of my favorite guilty pleasures is reading a good mystery. It started when I was young and a nerd and went to the library every week. First, I started with Encyclopedia Brown. This kid was the smartest guy I'd ever heard of and solved neighborhood crimes. Somehow the excitement of a 10-year-old kid being able to figure out a puzzle just appealed to me. What's not to love?
Next, I read a Nancy Drew novel in middle school. I finished it fast and then read the whole series, admiring her flawless detective skills, jealous of her friendship with her sidekicks Bess and George. She had it all together, and she was also solving much more serious crimes, like exposing jewel thieves and finding kidnapping victims.
I moved on to Trixie Belden. She was the cutest teenager with a family full of loving people along with a great group of friends, and somehow they always found themselves in a hotbed of crime. They had this cool club and loads of fun while still solving important cases.
Finally, in high school, I started reading the big momma of mystery: Agatha Christie. She had the most well-crafted plots and unique characters: Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot. If you've never read one, at least read "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd." Seriously good. Or watch "Murder on the Orient Express." I have re-read most of her books at least twice. Half the time I can't remember who the killer was so it all works well for me with my sketchy memory.
Since then, I have branched out, but I still love Christie the best. I've read many mystery series (Goldy Schulz and Jessica Fletcher stand out here), some individual mysteries (The Girl With a Dragon Tattoo, John Grisham), and even a few Christian mysteries (Dee Henderson, but these are romances sort of masquerading as mysteries, and I get tired of that).
I think the reason I love a mystery is that you sit, you read, and 200+ pages later you get a resolution. How often in life do we get that? Resolution, a fix, and a satisfying one at that (most of the time). When we trudge through our day-to-day and we don't understand the why, or what to do in the future, we can cozy up to a good book (or a mystery on TV) and feel some comfort knowing that Miss Marple will find that killer. Knitting needles and all.
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