Author Archives: Murderati


How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by J.D. Rhoades

 

One of my favorite things about vacation is the amount of uninterrupted time it gives me to read. And oh, boy, do I read. I usually take a Big Bag O’Books with me to the beach, and I start filling it with paperbacks at least a month in advance. See, I don’t speed-read as such, but when I have the time to really sit down and concentrate (and no Interweb to distract me), I plow through books at a clip that makes my wife shake her head in disbelief. My record is seventeen novels in one week (and I’m sure some of our loyal readers out there can top it).

This year, I had a particularly fine selection. Here are some of the highlights:

  • SOLOMON V. LORD, Paul Levine: Ironic, isn’t it, that after my post on why I don’t generally get into legal thrillers, one of the books I fell in love with happens to be just that? Well, that’s summer love for you.  I did say that I didn’t mind the legal inaccuracies when the book was a comedy, and there’s plenty of comedy in SOLOMON VS. LORD. There’s also the fact that, when the characters pull shenanigans in the courtroom, they end up exactly where you would in a real courtroom, to wit: in the little holding cell "backstage". In fact, that’s how this romantic comedy/legal thriller opens: with its bickering protagonists in opposite cells. Now THERE’S  a meet -cute for you! There’s some great snappy  dialogue, some quirky characters, some real emotion, all in all, a perfect beach read. I can’t wait to read the rest of the series.
  • HARD REVOLUTION, George P. Pelecanos: Pelecanos’ Derek Strange is one of my favorite P.I.’s ever, a flawed but, in the end, a righteous man. This book goes back to the time of the Martin Luther King assassination (and the  riots that erupted in reaction to it) to partially explain how Derek became the man he is.  It’s tragic, it’s moving…hell, it’s Pelecanos. There’s no need to say more.
  • PAGAN BABIES, Elmore Leonard: By tradition, I always take at least one Leonard on vacation with me. This one has a contemporary angle, beginning as it does in Rwanda a few years after the genocide. But once the action moves back to the States, the usual Leonard cast of characters manifests itself: the  weary middle-aged guy who’s seen too much, the younger (but not too much younger) female love interest who’s got a past of her own, the wise-ass tough guys, etc. I enjoyed it, because I always enjoy Elmore Leonard. When I read him now, though,  I start to get the feeling about halfway through that I’ve heard all this before.
  • WICKED BREAK, Jeff Shelby: How can you NOT take a book about a surfing P.I. to the beach with you? I thoroughly enjoyed Jeff’s debut novel, KILLER SWELL, and this one is even better. San Diego Private Eye Noah Braddock and his tough-as-nails buddy Carter deal with a missing persons case that turns into a battle with some truly nasty white supremacist types. Shelby deftly weaves the surfing bits and local color into the book without slowing down the plot, and the characters here take on more depth than in the last one. The writing and plotting is tighter, too. This series gets better and better.
  • HEART OF THE HUNTER, Deon Meyer: I finally got around to reading this one, which was in the goodie bag at my very first Bouchercon two years ago. It’s an excellent cloak and dagger thriller with a fascinating protagonist: a six-foot-three African named Tiny who used to work as an international assassin and whose preferred weapon was the traditional bayonet-like short spear known as the assegai. (He’s an excellent marksman, but he likes that personal touch). Frankly, the book had me at this point. I mean, come on. You can’t hardly get more bad-ass than a guy who kills people on streets of Paris with a damn spear. When an old friend in trouble calls Tiny out of  his peaceful retirement, it starts a white knuckle chase across southern Africa. The stuff about post-apartheid South African politics is a little confusing at first, but worth the trouble it takes to puzzle through.

So what are you guys reading this summer (other than SAFE AND SOUND, the third Jack Keller novel, available July 10th)?

Photos

By Ken Bruen


One of my favourite photos …….. a long shot.

The tide is out on Grattan beach, a long way out.  The sun is bouncing off the barely visible sea. You can see two stick figures, clearly dancing

Like Zorba

The figures appear equidistant from the water and the photographer. My wife took that snap

We were happy then

Grace and I danced on the beach like seals. My daughter was six then and I can hear her laughter still


One of my perennial books is Hemingway’s, A Movable Feast

The Paris days

He writes how happy he and Mary were and he wrote, there was wood all around them and he never knocked on it, for luck

I’m sure there was lots of driftwood on the beach that day but it never occurred to me to touch it, my other daughter, gone 2 years now, and she wasn’t in the photo, she is always in me heart


I have a magnificent shot of my close friend, a poet, perched on a Harley Davidson in The Grand Canyon. He looks free, as if the good times were hovering all around him

Before the poems darkened and  before the funerals.

Before he took his life and it took me so long to forgive him, god forgive me for being angry so long


Another photo of Grace and I, looks like we’re wearing identical sweatshirts and it seems almost sepia in tone, we’re staring off to the right, in wonderment, as if something magical was at hand

Most of my friends remark on the spirituality of the picture and ask what on earth we were watching

Sesame Street


I have a photo of my Dad when he was in his thirties, it hangs above my desk, he looks nothing like me and I don’t know now how I feel about that.  His suit is circa George Raft and he had the mandatory cigarette of the times, his hair is black and shiny and what I love most is the expression in his eyes, reads
                                                
                            “Take your best shot.

When I visit his grave, and realize yet again that he is truly gone, I whisper

“You were able for the best."

He was

That Noel, my beloved brother, and my mother lie each side of him is mixed comfort.

And 2 months ago, I added me only gorgeous beloved sister to the plot, fookit, I could weep but us Irish guys, shite, we don’t weep, we talk about hurling and women we had………..

Jesus wept


Photos, all I know of heaven and hell

Somedays, I derive scant comfort therein and others, I can’t look at them at all

I carry a photo in my wallet that I never…………….ever look at, it’s there, I know but I’m adept at using my wallet frequently without ever seeing it. She is smiling in the picture and I must have been too though I forget now but I know she has an expression of such longing, such………..yearning in her eyes and I still wonder for what?

Now of course, I’ll never know

I should have asked

You think?


In my files the other day, a snap fell out of an old notebook, in the days when I thought I might be a poet, god bless my ignorance, and it shows me on top of the Twin Towers, dressed in my security uniform. I had a job minding the North tower, I was Nineteen and could barely mind myself and they thought I could mind The Towers. I don’t recognize that person, I know it’s me but it’s not anyone I know, not any more. That person has a face full of such hope and anticipation, and almost, happiness.

God in heaven, if only that poor soul had any notion  what was coming down the pike, he might

Well………… have jumped……………….. sometimes I wish he did……………..

jump that is

When my beloved brother Noel died, a vagrant alcoholic in The Australian Outback, we received his body home in a sealed casket

The night before the funeral mass, as the coffin lay in the church, I placed a large framed photo of Noel on the coffin, when he was in his prime, his smiling face fills the whole space

A week after the funeral, I ran into a friend of mine who asked

“Why did you use two photos of Noel?"

“What?"

“On the Sunday, we thought it was great that your dad was standing behind Noel in the photo and then on Monday, at the mass, it was just Noel alone.”

I swore it was the one picture, I hadn’t touched it or used any other. He gave me an odd look and moved on

My Dad, in one of those awful ironies, had died a little over four weeks before Noel

Photos never lie

Do they?


The photo of my late sister, shows me giving her her first  puppy ………… Jaysus, I’m sounding like freaking Bobby Goldsboro and how the feck old am I if I remember

Honey”?

She has the most radiant smile you ever saw………………..

Her name was Jess and she was truly, one of the sweetest girls but life, life was too much for her

By an odd twist of  fate, I Heard Janis Ian recently………..singing, Jesse, come home……….maybe she’s home now

I had pledged to write a happy post this time and trust me, soon as I get it, happy, you’ll get the post

Only a few days ago, my late daughter’s husband sent me a photo of Aine on her wedding day

Am I going to look at that

Am I fook

K.B.

Three Qualities of the Best PR Pros

by Pari Noskin Taichert

Though Murderati focuses on the writing life, this article can apply to any PR situation or business. It’s part of an ongoing series I’ve dubbed PR 101.

Any novelist will tell you: Flashes of true creativity are few and far between. The real stuff of successful storytelling and prose comes in the daily butt-in-the-chair exercise of drafting, writing, editing, refining, editing and editing again.

The same holds true for PR. It’s hard work. At its core, public relations is about building relationships and most relationships take energy, time, consistency and effort.

While there are PR wunderkinder — the ones that make our jaws drop with their innovative techniques and staggering vigor — don’t let their zeal paralyze you. The most effective PR pros I know aren’t loud or in-your-face. They’re mostly modest, quiet, ego-less people. They spend much of their days with the nitty-gritty — licking envelopes, sending emails, searching for media outlets, calling, following up, being true to their word, showing up at events and practicing the three qualities below:

Empathy
Product Empathy: In PR, you need to understand, and be able to articulate, the nugget that captures the essence of what you’re trying to "sell." Without this sensibility, your pitches and angles will be hackneyed and ineffective.

Audience Empathy:  If you can define and key-in on what motivates your audiences, what they care about, you’ll be able to better wow and move them.

Sympathy
You know what it feels like to be overwhelmed by information, to feel inundated with trivia, to be so busy you want to break down and cry. You know what it’s like to feel pestered by phone sales calls, direct mail campaigns, and fliers stuck in your screen doors and on your windshields.

Most other people feel the same way. If this awareness informs your PR work, you’ll win friends everywhere you pitch.

Smart Determination
When you set goals, be ready to do what it takes to attain them. If you want media hits, work with several outlets — that way you’re bound to succeed with some of them. If your angle isn’t generating enthusiasm with any of them, go back to the drawing board and rework it.

If one organization isn’t yielding the results you want, find another.

Be persistent but don’t bang your head against a wall. Don’t annoy people who reject your spiels; find others who are receptive.

And, even if your pitch is brilliant, if it’s nixed by the people you need to impress . . . Abandon it and start over.

Remember, this isn’t about your ego. It’s about reaching your goals. Practice empathy, sympathy and smart determination until they become habit. They’ll serve you well in business — and in life.

Yada, Yada, Yada: The Role of Dialogue

By Mike MacLean

Dialogue_ctr_2 Working on the screenplay got me thinking about the nature of dialogue. 

It can be argued that dialogue plays two major roles in storytelling. 

First, it may expose something about a character–their background, personality, temperament, etc. 

Secondly, it can be a means to move the story along, revealing important details about the plot.

But is one of these more important than the other?

Those who write character driven stories would likely argue that dialogue is best when it helps paint human portraits.  When done well, slang or accents are like brushstrokes, adding layers of color and depth.  They wrap the raw bones of a character with flesh so they read like real human beings.

However, when not done well–when reduced to the level of stereotype–slang and accents can have the reverse effect.  Hit a false note, and you risk making your reader cringe.  Instead of ringing true, the character’s voice sounds like a construction, and the character then becomes merely a plot device.  Nothing pulls me out of a story quicker.

Even if dialogue rings true, too much regional flavor can wear thin.  The British pulp classic Yardie is a prime example. N69468_3  

I admired author Victor Headly’s ruthless, stripped-down prose.  His dialogue, however, was so filled with Jamaican and British vernacular that I got lost in all the verbiage. 

I didn’t doubt the authenticity of Headly’s characters, and their words added spice to the story.  But all in all, I would have preferred to know what the hell they were talking about.  At least once in a while. ‘ere da ting star, guess me no boo-yackiest!  (For the record, I still give Yardie a thumbs up and would like to see more of his work hit the States)

Those who see dialogue primarily as means to move the plot along face the opposite problem: creating dry, inhuman voices.  Sure readers will understand every word uttered, but we won’t care because we won’t identify with the characters.  We won’t feel they are truly human.

In my work, I tend to write lean dialogue with occasional dashes of vernacular sprinkled in for flavor.  When it works, I feel I’ve skated between the two roles of dialogue, achieving the best of both worlds.  When it doesn’t work, (which is more often than I’d like to admit) my characters sound like automatons, each speaking with the same voice.

So let’s hear it, murder fans. 

What style of dialogue do you find most effective? 
OR 
When reading dialogue, what makes you roll your eyes?

So what about self-publishing?

by Alex

This week I’m going to be on a panel called “How to Get Published” on which I am the representative for traditional publishing – as opposed to self-publishing.

Sometimes I’m not so sure I should be doing panels like this until I get another year or two’s worth of experience under my belt – I am still so new to publishing in general and a little terrified of saying the wrong thing.  We are, after all, talking about people’s dreams.

On the other hand, as a lot of you know, I have been OUT there on the circuit a lot this year, and arguably have crammed much more than a year’s worth of experience and observation into that year.

But in this case I thought I’d try soliciting as much information from you all on this subject as I can coax out of you so I can go into this panel at least a little more informed than I am.   Maybe we can all learn something.

In my experience and observation, the steps to publication, likewise the steps to a script sale, are really pretty simple.

!.   Write a great book (script).

2.    Get a great agent.

3.    Agent sells book to great publisher (studio/prodco).

4.    Repeat, hopefully minus step two, since you’ve already got that covered.

Now, of course, none of that is simple at all.   (It’s like Steve Martin’s advice on how to become a millionaire:  “First you get a million dollars.”)

But those really are the steps, and they make utter sense.   First you have to write something good enough to publish.   You have to get an agent because so many people write so much that is NOT good, and agents are one of the key filters for all that bad stuff that’s out there that we really don’t ever want published.   On one very important level, agents are quality control.

A good agent also serves the very important purpose (among many others I won’t be going into today) of matching material to publishers.    Your book has a much better chance of success if it’s placed with a house that is enthusiastic about it and is capable of putting it out to its specific market.

Now, I went the above very traditional route to sell my first script (and each subsequent script) and I went that very traditional route to sell my first two books, and it really never would have occurred to me to go any other way because I always figured those established routes were there for a reason.   Self-publishing perplexes me, because it seems a much, much, MUCH harder way to go, with about a million times more chance of failing utterly in what you’re trying to do.

That was my unschooled feeling about self-publishing even before I started getting out there on the convention circuit and hearing the vitriol directed at self-published authors from professional authors’ organizations and traditionally published authors and booksellers, many of whom will not deal with self-published books at all (“That’s not self-publishing, that’s self-PRINTING.”)  That’s already a huge reason not to self-publish. 

My own impression is that some people self-publish because

1)    They don’t know enough about the publishing business and don’t understand the logic and benefits of following the traditional routes to publication

2)    They’re too impatient or too afraid to follow the traditional routes

3)    They actually have a vision that might be a little ahead of its time and instead of taking no for an answer they take on the vast task of publishing and marketing themselves.

I don’t have any statistics to give you but the anecdotal evidence points to the first two reasons are responsible for MOST of the self-publishing.    And I can’t see anyone who self-publishes for one of those two reasons ever having an actual career as an author.   I understand that there’s an instant gratification about self-publishing, a feeling of self-determination about it – to barrel through and get your manuscript into a book form, choose your own cover, be able to hold it in your hands.

But then what?

Then you have to market the book, and there is no way that most individuals have the same capacity, resources, experience or savvy to market the way a publisher can.   Self-publishing seems like a short cut but in reality, much more often it’s a dead end.

Still, there are situations which absolutely call for self-publishing.   Family histories, local histories, community cookbooks – these are valuable records and resources for limited but avid audiences which a traditional publisher would probably never touch, but which should absolutely be collected and printed, and which might enjoy quite a lot of local success.

And there are those breakout exceptions, like THE CELESTINE PROPHECY, which really was a landmark New Age book that traditional publishers didn’t “get” at the time the author, James Redfield, shopped it.   But he had a vision, and the requisite passion to market it himself.   He self-published, got the book into New Age bookstores himself, and the book became an international phenomenon and cottage industry (over 20 million copies sold worldwide, translated into 34 languages, independent film adaptation, workshops, classes, lectures….)

And bestselling fantasy author Sherrilyn Kenyon started in e publishing with a series that was ahead of the paranormal curve – and got picked up by St. Martin’s after she clearly demonstrated that there was a huge audience for what she was doing.

And I can imagine that if marketing is a forte of yours, you could self-publish a specialty book (on, for example, ordinary household spells and love charms) that you could market online  to a target audience and make a bundle.    If you’re willing to work it.

I believe success in writing has a great deal to do with being very specific about what you want and about what you yourself are willing and capable of doing to get it.

I don’t think I have the skill set to succeed as a self-published author, but I’m quite sure there are some people who do.

Now I’m interested in hearing other perspectives on self-publishing, pro and con.    Scourge of the industry or viable option?   Any other examples of great – or moderate – successes, or great failures?

What a Rush

by Robert Gregory Browne

I’m almost always in a hurry.

Catch me on the freeway and I’m the idiot who’s weaving in and out of traffic, sometimes forgetting to use his blinker, constantly looking for that strategic maneuver that will get me to my destination a good thirty or so seconds faster than everyone else.

In the supermarket — if you can catch me in one for more than a couple minutes — I’m zipping through the aisles, looking only for what I came for and nothing else, getting frustrated when shoppers block my path with their overstuffed carts.

When I shave, I wield my razor like a Filipino knife fighter, cutting away that annoying morning stubble in seconds flat.

I’m always anxious to be done with whatever it is I’m doing, but I’m never quite sure why.  It’s as if I’m trapped in a suspense thriller in which the hero has no specific goal except to beat a ticking clock.  I think I’ve seen more than a few movies that could fit that particular bill.

Even as a writer, I find myself rushing.  I’m so anxious to finish
writing for the day, to be done with it, that I rarely take the time to really enjoy the
process.  And something about that just seems wrong.

My wife would disagree with me, of course.  About the "in a hurry" statement. 

To her, I’m the guy sitting on the couch with a laptop balanced on his knees, not particularly interested in going anywhere anytime soon — and I’m sure if she’s reading this (hi, hon!), she’s probably thinking, I wish he’d hurry up and mow the lawn.

But even when I’m sitting on that couch, I’m usually anxious to finish writing, surfing, researching, so that I can get on to the next thing, whatever it may be.  When I’m searching on Google, I often wind up rushing to find whatever it is I’m looking for so that I can look up something else I’ve suddenly thought of.  My brain tends to move at warp speed and, as a result, my thoughts are often fragmented.

Yet, this morning, while I was in the shower getting ready to take a shave, I asked myself the very question I never seem to have an answer to:  why?

Why am I in such a hurry?

What if I were to slow things down a bit, I thought.  And before I knew it, I was rubbing the shaving lotion between my palms and slapping it on my face as if I were a fugitive from a John Woo film, moving in slow motion.  I immediately thought of a passage from my first novel, KISS HER GOODBYE, which goes like this:

Somewhere behind him a phone was ringing, but Gunderson ignored it, enjoying the spectacle.  He relished his ability to slow the world around him to a crawl whenever the mood suited him.

He grinned at the exaggerated looks of surprise on the faces of bank tellers and customers.  Marveled at the fluidity of motion with which Luther and Nemo wielded fire extinguishers as they put out stray flames and climbed into the vault to fill their duffel bags.

He watched as, backpack full of Semtex in tow, Sara glided past the Plexiglas teller windows toward the rear of the bank, moving with an easy grace that only his slow-motion point of view could provide.

Gunderson felt high.  As if he’d taken a dozen hits of ecstasy.  But he never took drugs of any kind when he was working, didn’t need them to see the world this way.  This was his gift.  His power.  One he used sparingly and never took for granted.

Nice trick, eh?

Years ago, if the family was hopping into the car and I asked my son to run back to the house for something we’d forgotten, the kid — to our eternal frustration — would never hurry.  And nothing we could do or say would get him to pick up his pace.

When asked why he was always so slow, he responded — at eight years old, no less:  "I’m not slow, I’m deliberate."

Deliberate.

As Robin Williams used to say, what a concept.

So, as I stood in the shower this morning, lathering up my stubble in slow motion, I wondered what would happen if I were to spend an entire day moving like this.  Or, better yet, what if I had Gunderson’s gift of slowing the world around me?

Imagine the detail I’d be able to take in.

But as I look around me now, I notice that I’m not the only one afflicted by this illness.  Slow and deliberate seem to be concepts that many of us have failed to grasp. 

There are probably more drivers like me than not — at least where I live.  People are always rushing to get to their jobs, or back home to their loved ones.  Fast food has been part of our lives since I was a kid.  Movies are given a weekend to prove themselves.  Books, if they’re lucky, get three months on the bookstore shelf.  Everything seems to be disposable.

Consume, discard, move on.

But what would happen if we ALL slowed down a bit?  Would mothers weep?  Would the world collapse?

I don’t think so.

So, I’m making a vow, right here and now, to follow my son’s lead and live my life in a more… deliberate… fashion.  To pace myself.  Allow myself time.  To stop and smell the roses.

And who knows, maybe I’ll learn something in the process.

Would any of you like to join me?

Ouch!

by Pari Noskin Taichert

P8050370Last Friday night, I paid men twice my size to punch me. Old and young, wily and aggressive, they landed kicks that doubled me over and knocked me on my butt. They slammed hammer fists on my head and used my belly for target practice.

What idiocy is this?

Just about every weekend starts with me standing in line with six to twelve other lunatics ready to attack and defend. Though I’ve been sparring in Tae Kwon Do for about two years, I still feel like a complete dope.  Sure, I’ve improved . . . I get my punches in and have a wicked ridge-hand to the head and neck, but progress feels slow when a 6’2" man, who’s built like a Hummer, is pushing me into a corner.

(It feels like the first rotten review for a new book . . . )

Saturday mornings I look like an abused woman. Bruises line my shins, chest, stomach and shoulders. Four months ago, a punch to the nose caused bleeding and I had a showy cut across the ridge for weeks. Two months ago, a woman’s long thumbnail slashed my cornea; the pain worsened overnight and I had to go to the hospital the next morning.

Why would anyone subject herself to this week after week?

Well, I love it.

(Um, just like writing)

Up until I started TKD nearly three years ago, I’d never thought of myself as a physically strong person.P8050204_2  I’d had an image of being petite and, basically, on the diminutive side. Though quick enough to anger, I’d never kicked someone and had only hit two people in my life.

Now I’ve lost count.

Nothing feels quite as good as landing a hard punch and knocking the wind out of an opponent. There’s a weird satisfaction in knowing I could break a nose or crack a jaw if I had to.

I could say that this is all research for my writing, but it’d be a lie — at least for now. None of my main characters knows how to fight. Hell, I don’t know that much yet either.

But I do know that sparring has given me a kind of confidence that serves me well in other parts of my life. Because I have more sense about how to throw and take a punch, I’m more likely to anticipate strikes that other people might not notice coming their way. Because I get hurt on occasion, I’m more apt to be aware of my surroundings and avoid getting into a fracas in the first place.

Sparring has made me tougher, too. It’s a good quality to cultivate when you’re a writer because as much pleasure as we get wielding our craft . . .  we face attacks, too (from others or our own sorry egos).

P8050356So, next Friday night, you’ll find me with a padded red helmet on my head, mouth guard on my teeth, punching gloves and kicking boots. I’ll take too many blows, try to inflict as many on my partners, and love every minute of the whole experience.

(A word about the photos: they’re from an old testing. We don’t spar with padding during these events. The thing that amuses me is that every sparring picture I have shows me grinning.)

Dreams of Pulp: a Q & A with Hard Case Crime’s Charles Ardai

Interview by Mike MacLean

Grifters and pimps.  Pushers and killers.  Dirty angels and righteous whores.  They all lurk in the world of Hard Case Crime, the coolest publishers ever to hit the paperback stands.  So cool, they even punched out a couple titles by Murderati’s own Ken Bruen!

I say with no embarrassment, I’m a fan boy.  From the moment I saw those first Hard Case covers—the smoking guns and fem fatales—I was hooked.  And while the art drew me in, the words kept me in my seat, flipping pages.   

Ardai3_2Hard Case creator, editor, and author Charles Ardai was nice enough to sit down for an interview, answering questions about publishing in the world of pulp. 

MM:  Murderati readers may or may not know you were the founder and CEO of Juno, a popular Internet service provider.  What drew you from the dotcom world to the publishing world?

CA:  Actually, the right question to ask is the opposite one: What drew me from Cover_big5_2 the publishing world to the dotcom world?  I started out as a writer, at age 13, publishing reviews of videogames in magazines with names like ELECTRONIC FUN WITH COMPUTERS AND GAMES; I sold my first short story to ELLERY QUEEN in 1987, when I was 17; and a few years later, I started editing anthologies of short fiction for QUEEN and ALFRED HITCHCOCK and ISAAC ASIMOV’S SCIENCE FICTION MAGAZINE.  By the time I graduated college I’d published several hundred reviews and articles and stories and edited a dozen books, and I was certain I’d always be a writer and an editor and nothing but.

So how did I wind up starting an Internet company?  It’s a long story, but the short version is that back in 1992, mostly to make ends meet, I accepted a job offer from a company called D. E. Shaw & Co. (where Jeff Bezos, later the founder of Amazon.com, was also working), and around 1994 Jeff and I and a third guy who now runs a hedge fund were assigned to look at commercial opportunities on the Internet.  Jeff came up with the idea for Amazon; the other guy started an online stock trading service that Merrill Lynch eventually bought; and I came up with the idea for Juno.  Seven years and 10 million subscribers later, I merged it with NetZero and went back into writing, editing, and publishing, which were always my
first and greatest loves.  I still spend part of my time working on business matters — most recently overseeing a couple of biotechnology companies — but publishing is where I began, and I imagine it’s where I’ll end.

MM: What’s so great about the pulp tradition?  Why do you like treading on the dark side?

Cover_big2 CA: Well, to start with, pulp is not always dark — there’s plenty of light, exciting, action-packed pulp, and it’s fun, too.  But I’ve always
gravitated toward the dark side.  Chalk it up to a tortured adolescence; chalk it up to growing up in cynical, grubby 1970s New York City, where everyone I knew had been mugged at least once, the lucky ones at gunpoint, and where the back pages of NEW YORK magazine and THE VILLAGE VOICE were an out-in-the-open market for sexual services of every description.  Chalk it up to being reared by two Holocaust survivors who told me bedtime stories that would make Stephen King look like Dr. Pangloss and whose repeated lesson to me was that you always have to keep a suitcase packed for the day when things inevitably (but without warning) turn bad.  Chalk it up to a lot of things — all I know is that when I first read writers
like Thomas Hardy and Camus, and then James M. Cain and Cornell Woolrich and Lawrence Block, I knew instantly I’d found kindred souls.

And then, of course, as a writer I love dark pulp fiction for its velocity, its concision, its storytelling efficiency.  Page one: a corpse. Page two: they’re running for their lives.  Page three: a man with a gun. You can’t resist the pull of writing that immediate, that grab-you-by-the-throat.

MM: As an editor, what criteria do you follow when picking a vintage book to reprint?

CA: It’s simple: I have several thousand old crime paperbacks on my shelves and I’ve read most of them, and I ask myself, which ones do I remember That eliminates 90 percent.  Then I ask, which of those do I remember fondly?  That eliminates another 9 percent.  Then I pull the rest off the shelf, reread them, and ask, "Would a reader who is not already a pulp aficionado or a collector enjoy reading this book?"  Because we’re not archivists; we’re entertainers, and we want to deliver a great reading experience to a member of the general public, not just to hardcore fans. This process eliminates most of the books on my shelves.  The ones that are left we reprint.

MM: What do you look for in new authors? 

CA: It sounds trite and obvious, but the main thing I look for is goodCover_big4   writing.  And that’s awfully hard to find.  We get about 1000 submissions per year and in a typical year 990 of them are badly written.  The writers have the best intentions in the world and sometimes they even have an interesting story to tell, but their writing just isn’t of professional quality.  Of the ones that are well written, some just wouldn’t be appropriate for us — they’re set in the Middle Ages or are about vampires and ghosts or they’re really horror novels or modern thrillers rather than the sort of classical hardboiled/noir crime fiction we publish.  Or I just don’t like them personally, for whatever impossible-to-define reason.  But once in a while I find a book that’s well written, that’s crime fiction, and that I like — and that’s what I look for.

The hardest of these elements to define is the last one: what I like.  The best way I’ve found to describe it is to pose the question, "Could you imagine this having been published by Gold Medal in the 1950s?"  Now, Gold Medal published a pretty wide range of books, everything from Westerns to joke books to adventure novels — but there’s a certain type of crime fiction you associate with the Gold Medal name, and generally speaking that’s the sort of story that belongs in Hard Case Crime.  There are exceptions, of course — what’s a rule without exceptions? — but it’s a reasonable guideline.

MM: If you could pick any author to write a book for Hard Case, who would it be? 

CA: Oh, that’s tough — there are so many.  Elmore Leonard would be a natural, and we’ve exchanged letters with him over the years, but I doubt it could ever happen.  Robert B. Parker is terrific when he writes lean and quick. Dean Koontz started out writing hardboiled crime novels and I bet he’d enjoy doing it one more time.  Jonathan Lethem’s a fan of our books, as is George Pelecanos, and I’d love to have either of them take a crack at
writing one.  My favorite fantasy is that Philip Roth would write one — I spoke to him once, when THE HUMAN STAIN came out, and he described the scene at the end on the frozen lake as his first chance to write suspense fiction.  I’d be glad to give him another chance.  But these are dreams.  I don’t expect it to happen.

MM: Okay, Sophie’s choice time.  Everyone knows how great Hard Case’s covers are.  Do you have a favorite?

Cover_big3 CA: That’s even tougher!  We have some fantastic artists and choosing among them is impossible.  How do you rank a McGinnis against a Manchess or an Orbik?  You don’t, is the answer.  You can’t.  Within each artist’s work it’s easier, but only a little.  Bob McGinnis’ best for us is probably either THE GIRL WITH THE LONG GREEN HEART or THE LAST QUARRY (though I think the girl on KILL NOW, PAY LATER has the most beautiful face of any he’s painted for us).  Greg Manchess’ FADE TO BLONDE has become almost an iconic image for us (though his VENGEFUL VIRGIN is a popular favorite as well).  Glen Orbik’s SONGS OF INNOCENCE has a special place in my heart,for obvious reasons (though his BRANDED WOMAN and BLACKMAILER give it a run for its money in terms of sheer wolf-whistle-inducing sex appeal). And then there’s Chuck Pyle, with his dead-on period stylings in LUCKY AT CARDS and A DIET OF TREACLE, and Rick Farrell who did such a gorgeous job SLIDE and LEMONS NEVER LIE, and…  Okay, it’s impossible.  All I’ll say is this: If you think you have a favorite now, wait till next month.  And that goes no matter what month it is.

MM: In July, (or is it June?) Songs of Innocence hits the shelves, written by Richard Aleas, AKA you.  I’ll skip the usual pen name questions.  Songs is a follow up to your first novel, Little Girl Lost.  What challenges did you face writing a sequel? 

CA: It’s July, though copies probably will show up in some stores at the end of June.

The main challenge, frankly, was finding the time to write it.  I wrote LITTLE GIRL LOST over the course of 60 days, while SONGS took me the better part of three years, and it wasn’t because the book was harder to write, it was just because it’s tough to find time to write when you’re publishing a book a month and doing all the copy editing and proofreading yourself (not to mention reading 1000 submissions/year, not to mention overseeing a couple of biotech companies…).

The other challenge had to do with trying to be true to the story I wanted Cover_big to tell.  I started by asking the question, "What would it do to a sensitive young man, in the real world, to go through the events of the first book?"  And the answer was clear, it seemed to me: It would severely damage him.  So as tempting as it was to just write a conventional second novel, in which the hero of the first is hale and hearty and raring to go, I decided that John Blake would start the second novel on the edge of a precipice.  That’s a difficult place to start a novel, because where is there to go but down?  But that’s noir.  If you can’t stand the heat, etc.

MM: Both you and your partner in crime Max Phillips have published your own novels under the Hard Case banner.  How did you handle the editing duties on these books?  Were there fistfights involved?

CA: We agreed more than we disagreed, but sure, there were moments.  I did a detailed mark-up of his manuscript and he ignored at least half of my suggested edits, and of course his book went on to win the Shamus, so I guess he was right.  He did a detailed mark-up of my manuscript and though I actually did take most of his text-level edits, I ignored the main plot-level point he made, and LITTLE GIRL LOST went on to be nominated for both the Shamus and the Edgar, so I guess I was right.  In the end, you have to let the author make the final decision; it’s his book.

Cover_big6 But the simple fact is that Max is both a more seasoned and a better writer than I am, so it’s appropriate for me to follow his lead a bit more than the other way around.  I was grateful to have his help.

MM: Do you feel Hard Case has made an impact on the publishing world?

CA: I’d like to think so.  Sometimes I see another publisher doing a cover that looks a bit like one of ours and I think, "They clearly were inspired by us" — but of course we can hardly claim to have invented our look, so who knows.  Maybe they were inspired by the same old books that inspired us.  I do think more people are aware of old-fashioned pulp crime fiction now than were in 2004, when we started; I also think there are more publishers reprinting undeservedly forgotten crime fiction than there were when we started, and I know there are readers who have been turned on to the work of writers like Day Keene and Gil Brewer who might never have been if we hadn’t reprinted them.  That feels good.

But how much of an impact is it really?  We’ve published some good books; we’ve given a few hundred thousand people a pleasant night’s reading.  That’s nothing to sneeze at, but it’s hardly going to shake the publishing world to its foundations.

MM: What can you tell us about the movie deals?  Can you drop any names?  Are there any directors lined up?  Any stars?

CA: Alas, it’s too early to say anything about movies.  Papazian-Hirsch isCover_big7  very enthusiastic and so are we, but enthusiasm is just one of the ingredients you need in order to get movies made; another is money, and we’re in the process now of rounding up the necessary financing.  That’s got to be done before you lock down directors or actors or, hell, even the makeup and hair people.  But I’m optimistic.  These books would make terrific films and enough people in Hollywood agree with us about that that I’d be surprised if we didn’t see some of them up on the silver screen in a few years.

MM: If you could pistol whip anyone in the world, who would it be and why?

CA: What, anyone?  Really?  Will the Secret Service come knocking on my door if I say "Dick Cheney"?  (Just kidding.  Don’t arrest me.  My bag’s not packed.)

Oh, I don’t know.  I’m not a violent sort.  There are people I don’t like, but I’d sooner excoriate them verbally than slap ’em with the butt of my roscoe.  ("The Butt of My Roscoe."  Now there’s a great title for a book.
Although I guess maybe not the sort we publish.)

MM: What’s next for Hard Case?

CA: Bea05a2_2 Another book every month, at least until either the reading public gets tired of it or I do.  We’ve got some great writers coming up (Woolrich, Spillane, Robert Bloch), plus more from some of our old favorites (Lawrence Block, Ken Bruen and Jason Starr, Max Allan Collins, John Lange).  We have our first ever female author: Christa Faust, whose MONEY SHOT is already looking to be one of the more talked-about books of ’08. And I’ve got something fun in mind for book #50 — but I’m not quite ready to describe it yet, just in case I don’t manage to pull it off…

(Mr. Ardai and his hard-boiled pals at Book Expo America) 

My thanks to Charles Ardai for taking the time to chat. 

Now let me throw some questions at you, Murder fans.  Who would you like to see write a Hard Case book?  Are there any old noir classics you’d like to see reprinted?  And while you have your thinking caps on, come up with a great two-fisted, steamy title for a pulp novel.

Coming soon:  An interview with Hard Case alum and author of HARD MAN, Allan Guthrie 

ALA – the American Library Association Conference

I’m in DC this weekend for ALA – the American Library Association Conference.  But this time, I’m not even going to try to pretend that I might report back later today on how the day is going.   It’s a CONVENTION. 

Instead, for the moment, I’ll talk about my library conference experience last year, and about why these things should be on every author’s radar.

But first I must report, to set the scene, that the weather is SPECTACULAR.   A fantastic warm dry wind and explosions of flowers everywhere you look.   I of course will be in a convention hall for three straight days, but it’s theoretically gorgeous here.

I must also take a moment to express my complete fascination with how bizarre DC is.   I truly enjoy the capitol, except for the driving, which is psychotic (and please remember, I’m from LA) – and the unnavigable streets and incomprehensible road signs, which truly were designed by a young nation in deep and constant paranoia of imminent foreign invasion…

And this architectural mix of military industrial complex and esoteric Masonic edifices… it’s a little unnerving to think this place is the symbol of the entire US.   I don’t really even want to start to think about what all of that means for us as a people, not to mention the most powerful nation in the world…

Um, where was I?  Oh, yes, right.   I’m here for ALA, which I said – I think just last week – is in my opinion one of the two unmissable conferences of the year for new authors. 

Because, let’s face it.   As authors, and yes, as human beings, we’d be up that proverbial creek without a paddle without librarians, wouldn’t we?

My very first conference after I sold my book was the PLA (Public Library Association) conference, last May, in Boston.

I did it because I happened to be in Boston anyway, doing research for THE PRICE.   I was completely green at the time, but I just had done that magic thing – I’d joined Sisters In Crime and
Mystery Writers of America, and the very first newsletter I got from each organization had an announcement that Sisters in Crime and MWA would be sponsoring a booth at PLA where their authors could volunteer and meet librarians.

Well, this instantly caught my attention, because THE HARROWING is actually the book I was always looking for on the library shelves when I was a high school Goth girl reading Madeleine L’Engle and Stephen King, Shirley Jackson and F. Paul Wilson, Ira Levin and Lillian Hellman; Leonora Mattingly Weber and Poe and Shakespeare and Ramsey Campbell and Sheridan Le Fanu and Anne Rice and…

Bottom line – more than just about anything else, I wanted THE HARROWING in libraries, for Goth girls (and boys) like me to discover on rainy days. It’s an adult title but these age distinctions never stopped me from reading when I was — well, basically from the time I could read. So I thought, well, if I want to meet librarians…  and I volunteered.

Sisters in Crime library events are run by the SinC Library Liaison,  Doris Ann Norris, self-styled 2000-year old librarian (as she’s known on Dorothy L), revered by Sisters in Crime and MWA as "The Patron Saint of Mystery Writers" – and that’s no lie.

I stayed in that booth for pretty much the whole conference and Doris Ann took me under her wing and gave me a personalized crash course in publication, conferences, librarians, and life.

You know those moments when you feel like you just don’t have to do anything, because the Universe is in charge?

That PLA conference was one of those times.   It completely hooked me on the conference experience.

It was the greatest learning experience to watch Doris Ann in action, along with  Dan Hale (there to represent MWA, and now the MWA executive VP)  and the entire raucous chapter of the New England Chapter of Sisters in Crime (who hosted the booth): the most fabulous Dana Cameron, Clea Simon, Linda Barnes, Donna Andrews, Kate Flora, Hallie Ephron, Roberta Isleib, Sarah Smith, Susan Oleksiw, Toni and Steven Kelner, and Julia Spencer Fleming.

This is networking at its most painless.  All you do is sit (or stand) there in the booth.   Librarians FLOCK to the Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America booths – they LOVE mysteries (and that’s an interesting question right there – just who are librarians so eager to see killed?  Enquiring minds want to know….)

I stopped counting how many times people ran up to the booth exclaiming:  “Sisters in Crime!!!  I’ve been looking for you!”

Librarians love to hear about new books and they are fantastically supportive of new authors.   At the time THE HARROWING was five months away from publication but I talked to literally hundreds of librarians about the book that weekend and put myself squarely on the library radar (Doris Ann kindly reported my growing library orders back to me in subsequent months.)   I got requests for library appearances, got featured in the Brodart book catalogue, and did a podcast for a university library – that day – and all I did was sit there.

That weekend I was also privileged to attend a book club meeting at Kate’s Mystery Books in Cambridge with the great Margaret Maron, queen of Southern mysteries and one of the most gracious and wickedly entertaining people on the planet.

If all that weren’t enough, the whole weekend culminated in an absolutely stupendous party at the BPL (that’s the Boston Public Library, to non-Bostonians). Now, I have to say I’ve been to some pretty amazing parties in my life – from seven-day Irish weddings in decrepit Irish castles where the roof literally collapsed on the dancers, to special-effects artists’ otherworldly extravaganzas, to of course Mardi Gras, to the most ridiculously decadent Hollywood premieres (not to mention any given Halloween in San Francisco’s Castro District – if you’re ever looking for a really WILD party…)

But that party at BPL was in a class of its own. A salsa band in one wing, a jazz pianist in a marble hall, a costumed fife and drum ensemble on the front steps, a live gilded Statue of Liberty at the top of a sweeping staircase, a dozen different islands of spectacular food and drink, the fantastic exhibitions (1000 Jeanne d’ Arcs)… the courtyard of the library just all on its own under a nearly full moon… and that building, that building, that building….

I’m here to tell you – librarians could teach authors a thing or two about how to party.   Librarians get out there and DANCE, people.

So get thee to a library conference.

You won’t believe what you’ve been missing.

(And if you’re at ALA, too, I’m signing at the MWA/Sisters in Crime booth at 3 pm today, Saturday, and at the St. Martin’s (Holtzbrinck) booth tomorrow, Sunday.   Come by and join the party!)

Shinjuku_Outlaw

by J.D. Rhoades

When people find out
about my “day job” practicing law, they usually assume that I write legal
thrillers. “Oh, like John Grisham,” is what I usually hear. Well, I wouldn’t
turn down an advance the size of Grisham’s, that’s for sure, but I don’t  write that much about trials and lawyers and
such, which puzzles some people. After all, you’re supposed to write what you
know, right?

Caveman_2
The thing is, most
legal fiction drives me up the wall because of all the things that occur that I
know would never, ever happen in a real court of law or in actual practice. I
know, it’s fiction, and you’re supposed to suspend your disbelief, but seeing
someone blatantly violate procedure for dramatic effect  is like having a
unicorn walk into the courtroom. That sudden “Whaaaa?” takes me right out of
the story.

And don’t even get
me started on lawyer TV shows. I find myself leaping up, yelling “OBJECT, YOU
MORON!” at the hapless lawyer sitting there looking like a stunned bunny while
the hero or heroine walks all over him.

There’s really not
that much witty repartee going on in the courtroom, and damned little drama.
Most of the time, both sides and the judge know ahead of time how
it’s going to play out, thanks to a process called “discovery”, during which both
sides have to exchange documents, witness lists and other information in their possession. (Violation of
the discovery rules is one of the main things that got Durham District Attorney
Mike Nifong disbarred).

But the thing that
makes me craziest in most legal thrillers is the cliché that every client is
innocent.  I mean, I love Ed McBain’s
work, but when I came to a passage in one of his books featuring criminal
lawyer Matthew Hope, a passage in which
McBain stated that Hope only took on
clients “he knew were innocent,” I literally threw the book across the room.   Apparently, Matthew Hope Esq, is not fond of eating regularly,
because if you only took on clients you knew were innocent, you’d go hungry a
lot.

The most common
question asked of attorneys in the criminal law area is “how can you defend
people you know are guilty?” At the risk of sounding Clintonian here, the question is really based upon a
misunderstanding as to what the words
“defend” and “guilty” really mean.

Most people assume
that criminal defense is like in books or on TV, where every lawyer only has one case at a time, every case is tried (usually within
45 minutes of the crime taking place) and that every trial’s about whether the
guy at the Defendant’s table is the one who did the deed. Cases with what we call a  SODDI (Some Other Dude Did
It) defense actually make up a very small part of your
trial load. Most of the time, everyone
including you is  pretty doggone sure
that the person sitting next to you is the perpetrator. In cases like that,
you’re often arguing about what the Defendant actually did, and what crime, if any,
those actions constitute.

Example:  There was this guy, let’s call him Danny.
Danny was a long-haired redneck boy from up in the hard-scrabble northern part
of the county. He was, by accounts of everyone who knew him,  a pretty good guy, if a little wild.  He was 19 years old, had a
good job working construction, a pretty girlfriend, and a new
Camaro. He’d had a couple of traffic tickets, a weed-based misdemeanor or two, but
no history of violence. But, like most young men in his social circle, Danny had a gun. One Friday night, Danny was hanging out with his best
buddy, a guy he’d grown up with, a guy who was like a brother to him. They were
with a bunch of other people hanging around the Stop and Go convenience store.
Danny and Best Buddy were splitting a bottle of Mexican tequila, the kind with
the worm at the bottom. Now the legend is, if you eat the tequila worm, you’ll
get really, really high. Well, before they knew it, the tequila was gone, and
so was the worm. They started the kind of good natured back and forth that young
guys get into some times: ‘Hey you sumbitch, that worm was mine, I’ll kick your ass
for that!” “You ain’t gonna do shit,” etc. The people around the car all agree
they were both laughing, mock punching, just screwing around. Then Danny pulled his pistol from beneath the
seat and started waving it, still laughing. 

The gun went off and blew Best Buddy’s brains
all over the passenger side window.

The cops came and
Danny was charged with first degree murder. The D.A. tut-tutted over how awful it was to "shoot a man over the worm in a tequila bottle."

Now, first degree murder,
punishable by death or life without parole, requires premeditation and
deliberation. Danny had no intention of shooting Best Buddy. He didn’t set out
that night planning to shoot him. In fact, he was devastated by what he’d
done. He sat in the office of the
attorney I was clerking for and cried like a child. “I never meant to hurt
nobody,” he said, over and over, and everybody who was there at the scene of
the crime agreed.

So “defending”
Danny didn’t mean proving he didn’t do it. He was guilty of something, but he
wasn’t guilty of first degree murder. My boss argued, successfully, that what
Danny was actually guilty of was involuntary manslaughter which, stripped of
legal verbiage, means “the Defendant was doing something monumentally stupid and someone
got killed.” The difference for Danny was five years instead of life. He pled
to involuntary, did his five years, and hasn’t been in trouble since. In fact,
he’s a deacon in his church. He hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since that
night.

  Other times, “defending the guilty” means
arguing for alternatives to prison. Sometimes, a probationary sentence involves getting your
strung-out, drug addicted client into rehab, and sometimes it takes. Not often,
but enough. And if a defendant is employed, probation with restitution gives the victim a chance to get their money back.

So while there are
some great stories out there in actual law practice, very few of them are the
type you’d read in a mystery novel.

Nightcourt
All that said, a few people do manage to do it right. Margaret Maron, for example, has a number of scenes that absolutely nail the details of  small town law practice (probably because she did some of her research with the Chief District Court Judge in my district). George V. Higgins’ Kennedy for the Defense gets into the mind of a criminal lawyer, with its blend of idealism and cynicism, better than just about anyone (although he does have that annoying "only one client at a time" cliche going).

And for some reason, it doesn’t bother me so much if it’s played for laughs. Night Court didn’t piss me off like Law and Order does. Although, ironically, the losers and loonies of  Night Court seem closer to the real people you see some days in District Court.

So can anyone recommend a "legal thriller" that WON’T get thrown off the deck when I’m at the beach next week?