Write Away: X is for Xenogamy

Okay, so maybe I am cheating just a tiny little bit with this one, but, hey! Give me a break. Other than “X marks the spot”, what would you do for X and mystery terms? Also, this is another quickie for you! Are we getting tired yet?

Xenogamy is a botany term that means fertilization of a flower by pollen from a flower on a genetically different plant.  I suppose that would create a new species, yes?

Imagine that with mysteries and other crime fiction. We began with traditional mysteries and in the “Golden Age of Mystery” (Agatha Christie and others) defined the modern mystery their way.

Move along the timeline a bit, and we have people creating romantic suspense, culinary mysteries,

police procedurals, private eye mysteries, urban fantasy mysteries ,  steampunk mysteries  , caper mysteries and more. I’ve written about these varieties in multiple blog posts. Just click on the links to go to some of them.

What are those sub-genres but the literary equivalent of xenogamy? Take one genre and modify it with elements from another genre, voila! New sub-genre looking for readers! Do you have any ideas to create a new xenogamous mystery sub-genre? Give it a whirl! Just consummate the relationship of two disparate genres. Xenogamy! (Don’t you love saying that word?)

Frieda figures out where Mort got it wrong! More of “The List”.

        Xanthippe! That’s who Mort had confused her with. The shrewish wife of Socrates. Well, that wasn’t who she was. And for certain, Mort was no Socrates! She’d show him she wasn’t washed up and that she could survive, no thrive without him. One good thing would come of this. She could be totally “Fran” now with no constant reminders of her past identity. She’d never have to hear “Frieda” again.

Fran laced her fingers and stretched them in front of her, arching her bony back in preparation for long hours in her seat. Her column was done for the week. That left her book to work on. Much as she’d like to avoid it, her deadline loomed ominously.

            She opened the folder, removing the sheets of notes she had previously prepared. She began to read through the title and chapter titles arranged Letterman-style as her editor had cutely suggested over her objections. And she knew from long experience with editors that their suggestions were mandates.