I write today to wholeheartedly recommend Otto Penzler as a character in your next short story.
I have never actually met Mr. Penzler. (I saw him once, when I visited The Mysterious Bookshop in Tribeca, but I was too shy to talk to him. After all, he is the editor of Bibliomysteries, delectable double volumes of short stories set against the backdrop of books, including stories by writers as important as Joyce Carol Oates and Ian Rankin, and I felt like enough of a benign stalker without introducing myself.)
You may be thinking that I’m not in a position to recommend the character of Mr. Penzler, editor, publisher, bookstore proprietor, given that I’ve never met him. But you will feel differently after I tell you about Christmas at The Mysterious Bookshop.
The conceit of this collection of stories, edited by Mr. Penzler, is that all stories must “be set during the Christmas season, involve a mystery, and have at least some of the action take place at The Mysterious Bookshop.” With contributions from the likes of Megan Abbott, Anne Perry, Mary Higgins Clark, and Jonathan Santlofer, Christmas at The Mysterious Bookshop is a delight of Christmas Eve murders, deadly holiday book signings, and thefts of valuable manuscripts, with many crimes taking place right in the shop. And you know who is frequently bumping around The Mysterious Bookshop? (Besides shy mystery lovers?)
Otto Penzler!
Understandably, writers who earned a spot in the collection often place Penzler in the story, too. No sense in disguising a guy like that! Here is how Abbott describes him, from the mouth of one of her characters in the story “Snowberries:”
“‘Silver hair, silver beard. This time of year, gray herringbone coat, fly-front. Looks custom made. A voice kind of clubby. Crisp but buoyant. Someone comfortable speaking in public…’”
Based on my brief observation, she nailed it: Penzler is a man from whom you’d like to buy a book, sip some cognac, and chat about a first edition Agatha Christie. He is a man fit for a mystery story (or eighteen).
Therefore, it is with my whole heart that I recommend Mr. Penzler for your next short story. If it turns out well, send it to him and see if he’ll put it in his next collection!
But I will warn you that, if you go looking for him in The Big Book of Espionage (edt. Otto Penzler), you will be disappointed. There is no requirement that the writers (some of whom are long dead so didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him) include Penzler or his bookshop in their stories of spies and double agents. I’m not quite finished with it yet, so I’m holding out hope that the man will show up in one of the more recent pieces, perhaps lurking by a dead drop in Central Park?