Music, Mayhem and Murder!

IF SOMEONE had told me, twenty years ago, that I’d one day be sitting quietly at a desk, writing about murder instead of performing it (the pretend kind, of course!) I might have laughed. For nearly two decades, my world revolved around the glittering chaos of murder mystery dinner theatre. A place where improvisation and truth is blurred, where every actor became a suspect, and where laughter and gasps were equally welcome sounds.

Over the years, I must have written and re-written nearly 100 murder mystery scripts, each one a blend of intrigue, absurdity, and a dash of cheeky humour. But none were ever performed the same. There were glamorous heiresses who fainted too late, bumbling butlers with suspiciously good alibis, and detectives who could talk their way out of just about anything, except their own lines. And that was usually me! It was an experience equal parts exhilarating and exhausting, peppered with quirks, mishaps, stress and the sort of camaraderie that only theatre folk truly understand. I made some wonderful friends, shared countless post-show pints, and learned that no script ever survives first contact with a live audience. But that’s exactly what makes it magic.

Before my Murder Mystery career took centre stage, I’d already been bitten by the theatre bug. My years in amateur dramatics saw me belting out tunes in Anything Goes, Oliver!, Fiddler on the Roof, and South Pacific. and many others. The stage lights, the orchestra’s swell, the hum of an audience waiting for the curtain to rise, all wove itself into my creative DNA. Storytelling, whether sung or spoken, became my way of understanding people and, more importantly, making them feel something.

These days, I’ve taken that same love of performance into a different setting. As a therapeutic entertainer in the care industry, I spend my time bringing smiles and memories to life for residents through the songs of the Rat Pack era. The smooth swing of Sinatra, the charm of Dean Martin, the wit of Sammy Davis Jr. I sprinkle in a few old jokes, vintage advert jingles, and plenty of nostalgia. Watching faces light up as the past briefly becomes present again is one of the most rewarding parts of what I do.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I’ve finally turned my long-held dream into reality: becoming an author. I’ll admit. freely, that it’s harder than I expected! Writing a book isn’t quite like writing a improvised murder mystery script. It’s slower, lonelier, and requires a kind of patience that doesn’t come with applause at the end of the night. But it’s also deeply satisfying.

There’s something thrilling about crafting a world on the page, setting your characters loose, and watching them unravel their own mysteries. Sometimes they even surprise me. Not unlike actors who decide to ad-lib their way through an entire murder mystery event (and yes, that’s happened more times than I can count).

I suppose what ties all of this together, you know, the theatre, the scripts, the songs, and now the novels, is a simple desire to entertain. To give people a reason to laugh, gasp, or lean in a little closer. Whether it’s a clever clue, a haunting melody, or a well-timed punchline, it all comes down to connection.

So here I am. I'm still chasing that next mystery, still finding joy in the chaos of storytelling, and still occasionally breaking into a Rat Pack number when the mood strikes. The stage may be smaller these days (and involves fewer costume changes), but the show, as they say, goes on.