I love mystery novels. There’s something about falling into the story and then being surprised at how it twists and turns that makes a mystery the ultimate relaxing read for me.
Recently though, reading a book by an author I usually enjoy, I found myself frustrated by just these same twists and turns. The plot involved a the murder of a millionaire, his dying sister, artwork stolen by the Nazis, several instances of infidelity, a will, intercontinental thievery, architecture, a old man and his even older father and their obsession with World War II, a museum…that’s not even everything this book asked me to contend with. And then finally, there was no satisfactory resolution. The murderer did it to frame her brother (spoiler.)
A red herring is a plot device a writer uses to distract the reader from the real machinations. They’re the stock-in-trade of a mystery writer. In this case, though, the writer’s red herrings ran away with her. The most interesting parts of her book had nothing to do with the story she had decided to tell.
This happens to public speakers a lot. Our red herrings sneak into our material, intrigue our audiences, and are never heard from again. They’re wondering “when is she going to tie up the loose end of the story about the elephant?” or “how does that graph relate to the gist of all this?”
Red herrings don’t belong in your talk. If you bring it up, it’s gotta be relevant.
