This July, at the Theakstons Old Peculier Harrogate crime writing festival, I’ll be talking to the acclaimed comedian Eddie Izzard. In fact, there is something of a comedy/crime theme running throughout the festival this year, with Lee Child interviewed by Rory Bremner and Fred MacAulay in conversation with MC Beaton. So why this comedy/crime overlap? What is the connection between the two? Is it just that a lot of comedians are fans of crime fiction, and crime writers like to take some time away from all that blood and bad behaviour to watch standup?

Having worked professionally as both a standup comedian and a crime novelist, my own theory is that writing crime fiction and performing comedy have far more in common than might first appear. While the subject matter of my novels could not be further removed from the stuff I used to trot out at the Comedy Store, the delivery of the material employs many of the same techniques.

A strong opening is, of course, crucial. That first gag has got to be a cracker if the crowd is to trust you and relax into your material. Ditto the readers of your book. Whether your audience is in a sweaty basement club or nestled in a favourite armchair, good money has been paid and attention has got to be grabbed if you are not to be heckled off the stage or find your novel discarded in favour of the latest volume of Fifty Shades of Whatever. The same applies to the climax of your act/novel. Whether your loose ends are to be tied up or left dangling, whether you leave the audience on a shaggy dog story or a song, a bang is always preferable to a whimper.

The most striking similarity between the two forms is the use of the “reveal”, or – to give it its full name – the “pull back and reveal”. In joke terms, this is the moment when it becomes clear that you have been led down one path only for the punchline to come rushing up the other and smack you in the face. This usually involves phrases along the lines of “and that was just the receptionist!” or, in the case of a popular gag involving a frenzied bout of onanism and a dirty magazine, “and then they threw me out of the newsagent”. Much the same technique is used by crime writers. The best example I can think of comes from Thomas Harris’s The Silence of the Lambs in which, as the Swat team prepares to descend on the killer, Clarice Starling is tying up a few loose ends of her own. Clarice rings a doorbell, the reader turns the page and – in a heartstopping reveal – realises that Clarice is actually the one at the killer’s door.

Crime or mystery fiction uses moments such as this all the time. The reader is manipulated artfully until the writer chooses the most effective moment to reveal key information. This is often a clue, though the biggest reveal of all is usually the identity of a killer. In the case of whodunnits, it might be said that the whole book is one extended pull back and reveal. The fact is that most crime novels contain a good many punchlines. They are just rather darker than the ones you might hear in a comedy club.

There are, of course many differences between writing crime fiction and performing standup. Writers don’t get heckled (though some might say that’s basically what critics do) and comics don’t get advances (most of them would fail to turn up if they did). The most obvious difference, though, is in terms of reaction. The comic knows instantly if a gag works or, more painfully, does not. A book, on the other hand, is just … out there, and one can never be sure whether it is being enjoyed or thrown across a room.

Having worked as both comedian and crime writer, the one thing I know is that both involve the delivery of a performance. Entertaining an audience is what I do now, and all I ever tried to do as a standup, though the stories were shorter and the only person likely to die was me. In fact, when it comes to death, abuse and sheer, naked terror, comedy trumps crime fiction every time.

• Mark Billingham joins special guests including Lee Child, Rory Bremner, Ann Cleeves, Arnaldur Indriðason, Eddie Izzard, Val McDermid, Sara Paretsky and Sally Wainwright at the Theakstons Old Peculier crime writing festival, at The Old Swan Hotel, Harrogate, from 16-19 July