Tag Archive for: WW II

Some Mystery Related Influences from my Childhood

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Many mystery authors attribute reading Nancy Drew mysteries for the writing they do now. I also read Nancy Drew, but looking back, I believe many other things from my childhood had a greater influence on what I do today.

Most of you know I’m much older than all the rest of the contributors to this blog. I grew up during World War II–and when I was about 10 I was convinced I would be asked to be a spy if the enemy landed on our shores. I lived in Los Angeles and we had black-outs, air raid drills at school, and I was highly influenced by the newsreels at the movies.

As for movies, we went every Friday night and stayed for both features. The 2nd one was always a B movie usually about gangsters, but often a mystery. My parents never questioned whether anyting was appropriate for their daughter or her 5 year younger sister.

At home, I listened to the radio faithfully. Having my own radio (a Christmas present) in my room meant I heard nearly every episode of all the mystery shows: The Whistler, Suspense Theater, The Adventures of Sam Spade, The Shadow, Inner Sanctum.

My little Philco radio also picked up police calls–which I was forbidden to listen to, once my mom found out about them. However, I still listened to them at night–and I heard the reports when the Black Dahlia’s body was found. Gave me nightmares for weeks.

My family subscribed to three newspapers: The L.A. Times, The Herald Examiner and The Daily News. I don’t think my dad ever read them–but my mother did. The Daily News had the most gossip and “best” photos. The articles I remember most were about the Black Dahlia murder and also the murder of Lana Turner’s boyfriend–by her daughter. Any death reported in their pages always carried the lurid details and graphic photographs. I didn’t pay much attention to the other news, but devoured all the reports about murder.

And one last memory. One of my mother’s church friends murdered her husband. While he slept on the couch, she hit in in the head with an axe. I was young and don’t remember many details though I do know she was put into a mental institution. One more thing, I heard one of my mother’s friends say, “He was the most boring man I ever met. If I’d been married to him, I might have done the same thing.”

Okay, you other authors, any similar childhood memories influence you?

And readers, what happened in your childhood that might have influenced you to read mysteries?

Marilyn

P.S. Yes, I do use some of what I remember in my books–old and newer memories.

Earlier Times

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On a list I’m on, people were reminiscing about their childhoods and how kids could use their imaginations more because they played outside–no one organized them. Things have truly changed and I think it’s too bad–and the main reason is because it’s too dangerous.

Back in my younger days, I have a feeling there were just as many bad people around, we just didn’t hear about them so much.

I had lots of freedom. Mom really didn’t seem to care where I went as long as I was home by 5 for dinner. Also, if we heard my dad whistle, and he could whistle really loud, we better hustle on home. I did not grow up in the country, our home was in Los Angeles. We had hills behind our house where the Glendale Freeway is today. We usually didn’t hike in the hills unless we had a grown-up with us because hobos lived in the hills. And yes, they really did, we often saw their encampments though never them.

We did a lot of roller skating down the sidewalks, we lived on a hilly street and usually stopped by crashing into someone’s garage door. We also rode our bikes everywhere. I often rode off alone in the summer with my writing gear in my basket and a book to read, and parked myself several blocks away under a lovely willow tree on someone’s front lawn. (No, I didn’t know the people.) I would write and read and enjoy myself and no one ever told me to move along.

I can just imagine the people of the house saying, “There’s that strange little girl again.”

Though I spent a lot of time with my friends doing all sorts of things like digging tunnels in the vacant lot (to escape from the enemy–I grew up during WWII) and cococting poisons, putting on plays with the neighborhood kids, I also wandered around a lot by myself. Sometimes I even managed to get lost.

When my cousin and I were 10 our mothers let us go downtown (downtown L.A.) on the streetcar by ourselves. (What we didn’t know is they followed us on the very next street car.) We had strict orders to stay in the block between 5th and 6th and to only go in those stores. Because we did as we were told, we were allowed to go downtown by ourselves whenever we wanted after that. Back in those days you could buy a lot at the dime store with one dollar.

Visits to the library were a weekly event. Mom had to drive us there. I always got 10 books and read them all before the week was up.

When I was a bit older mom subscribed to a book club and she told me I couldn’t read the books–but I did after she finished them. (I’m sure she knew.)

My growing up years were filled with freedom and I truly know how blessed I was.

Marilyn a.k.a. F. M. Meredith