Her last case was 50 years ago, written by Agatha Christie just before she died. Could I really follow in the footsteps of the Queen of Crime?

When I was asked to write the first full-length Miss Marple novel since Sleeping Murder was published posthumously, 50 years ago in October, I immediately thought of my granny. My first encounter with the world of Agatha Christie was through her. Now I come to think of it, she was a rather Marple-ish figure in many ways: a keen knitter and gardener with a brilliant mind (she could complete the “big” crossword in seemingly about 15 minutes), highly perceptive about people and human nature and with a powerful moral compass. While kind and generous beyond measure, at times, like Miss Marple, she showed a steelier side.

Christie created Jane Marple in a Christmas magazine story called The Tuesday Night Club in 1927, and this “white-haired old lady” made her book debut in 1930 with The Murder at the Vicarage. Rivalling Hercule Poirot in her readers’ affections, Miss Marple eventually appeared in 12 of the author’s 66 detective novels, plus 20 of her 160 short stories. With more than 1bn Agatha Christie books sold in English, and another 1bn sold in translation, they are some of the most perpetually loved works ever written. But though Sophie Hannah was commissioned by Christie’s family to publish an authorised continuation of her Poirot novels in 2013, no one had ever been asked to write a new Miss Marple. Until now …

Falling in love with a novel motivated these five travel writers to immerse themselves in locations from the Yukon and Kyrgyzstan to the Côte d’Azur

Inspired by Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express

Martin Freeman does his best to lift this three-parter, but it feels like Enid Blyton – made for an international market that thinks Paddington Bear is holding the queen’s hand in heaven

‘Tis the season, just, for your annual Agatha Christie. In recent years, the adaptations have been infused with the grief and instability of the postwar backdrop against which they all exist, and been given rich, dark, adult inflections by Sarah Phelps for the BBC.

The latest, however, is for Netflix by Chris Chibnall and we are back in the world of period costume, clipped vowels and dialogue infused with nothing but plot, designed to get the puzzle pieces recited into the right position for the next bit then the next bit then the solving – this time at the end of three very hour-long episodes.