Thursday, January 10, 2013

Hemlock and Headlocks



O.k, so I've been working on a murder mystery story, of sorts, revolving around the world of Lucha Libre (Masked Mexican) wrestling.

The good thing is that I'm enjoying the exercise. A lot. It'll be no more than a short story, at best, but I find myself thinking about the plot and characters....even when I'm doing other things. I'm taking that as a good sign of interest.

The bad thing is, I want to try to make it as authentic as I can and, not being from Mexico...or a Lucha Libre wrestler....that could mean some research. I'm not sure just how much I want to do for a short story (at best!). I guess it would make for A). a better sotry and B). a better writing exercise, so we'll see. One of the definite advantages of not having a deadline.

I'm also hesitant to try to use "dialect" as I don't want it to sound cliche' or even hokey but I want the reader to have a real feel for the background of Lucha Libre, even if they've never heard of it beforehand.

Any tips/hints on how I should proceed?

While I'm mulling things over, I'll leave you with a small sample...the opening of my little tale.


The large, burly, man ducked under the glossy yellow tape that read ‘Police Line: Do Not Cross”.  As he crossed the threshold, a uniformed officer was already approaching.

“Sir, I’m sorry this is a…..oh…”

Wearing a pair of pressed, black, slacks, a matching sports coat and a crisp, white, t-shirt underneath, the burly man didn’t look too out of sorts. That is, until you went above the neckline. Doffing his black fedora, a shiny white mask covered his head with a thick, black, outline around his eye and mouth holes. The burly man stood tall after ducking under the tape….to around 6’4”.

The officer quickly stood aside. “Sorry sir, didn’t realize they had called you.”

“No worries, amigo”, the big man said, “would you like to see my i.d.?”

The officer smiled weakly and shook his head, waving the masked man in.

“El Ojo! About damn time you got here!!”

“My apologies, Inspector Martinez, my training class went long.”

“Trainin’ class? What sort of trainin’?”

The masked wrestler grinned, “Cooking. Today was flan.”

Inspector Martin just sighed. “Problem with you, Eye, is that I never know when you’re kiddin’. Anyways, what we got here is a corpse and five suspects. Each one has a reason that they’d like to see this here Prince Charmin’ six feet under.”

6 comments:

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

I wouldn't focus as much on dialect. A little goes a long way. But researching could be fun. At least you have the whole Internet to explore. And it will lend credibility to your tale. Who knows? Maybe it will be more than a short story...?

Mark Means said...

I think you're right on the dialect, Alex. I remember a story I did where the main villain was a Russian...and I tried to do an accent....it did not go well.

Very good point...it could snowball into something more and that would be pretty cool, as well :)

Morgan said...

I *really* enjoyed that little excerpt. It's clear you know your stuff, Mark. I'm intrigued! And wow... seems like quite the project to tackle. And seems authentic and awesome to me! :D

Mark Means said...

Thank you so much, Morgan, I appreciate your kind words :)

Well see how it goes, but I'm hoping it -does- turn out awesome, indeed!

Misha Gericke said...

Hahaha that's a quirky but great excerpt. :-D

Mark Means said...

Hehe, -definitely- quirky....and thanks! :)

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