Great Doors

At left, a revolving door from Morguefile.

The door itself stands out to me in the crime and suspense genre.

There is the iconic image of the hand-lettered nameplate on a frosted glass door for Archer and Spade or  Marlow and a million others.

There's the tension in the story when the detective slowly opens the door and we know from his caution that trouble waits inside.

There's the unexpected body behind the door when the detective searches the apartment.

There's the unanticipated gun when the door opens on our protagonist.

No other genre puts so much emphasis on such a simple everyday item.

My door? For the money, it's the revolving door. At night and in the glare of the too bright lobby lights, you can't quite tell who is coming through until they are already in your midst. I like that.

I suspect the illusion for me comes from the curtain on Carson where the guests would sneak out from the side. All of a sudden: boom, the guest.

I like the revolving door. I like the antagonist to walk in it just when we're about to put the story down for the night. I like the hotel staff caught-up in the story as our point-of-view characters.

I like not quite knowing what the revolving door is going to let in from the night.

You might double-check your doors tonight. There is crime writing afoot.

Do some.