Et tu, Editor?

 “The world is a hellish place, and bad writing is destroying the quality of our suffering.” ― Tom Waits

Contemporary editing doesn’t kick any ass, either.

I have long said the Internet needs editors. Without the space restrictions imposed by newsprint or magazine pages, even professional journalists tend to yammer on well past the point where anyone cares what they’re saying. This is why I make every effort to keep these posts to between 600 – 800 words, the standard length of a traditional newspaper column. (Interviews tend to run longer depending on the subject’s responses.)

As for the quality of what editing takes place, even venues with professional editors are guilty. To use a trivial example that most clearly shows the point, ledes are routinely buried these days. I first noticed this when reading the sports pages, where one can sometimes go several paragraphs before learning the score of the game, which is the first thing people look for when they read a recap.

It's in novels where this really irritates me. The last several books I’ve read are rife with the kinds of errors writers may make through having too tight a deadline, or simple copy and paste errors that, frankly, are the sole reasons copy editors exist. While I do not excuse the writer altogether – after all, it’s our name on the cover – editors might want to do a better job, considering how much we hear about their importance.

A few examples from my recent reading:

·       “Anything under .50 is small caliber.” Really? A .50 caliber machine gun is what they used in World War II to shoot down fighter planes. Currently, the Desert Eagle, often considered the most powerful handgun in the world (Dirty Harry notwithstanding) is a .50 cal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but “small” caliber handguns are .22s and .25s; maybe a .32. A .38 or a 9 mm is not a small caliber weapon.

·       Speaking of 9 mm, it’s ‘nine,’ not ‘point nine,’ which is how one has to read the ever popular ‘.9 mm.’ A .9 mm bullet would have a diameter of 0.035 inches, which is about 3/64 of an inch, or about the size of the tip of a dart. It had better hit you someplace critical if it’s going to do much damage.

·       Using the same word or phrase too close together and/or too often. I confess to being prone to this one myself and spend much of my editing and rewriting time seeking them out for correction. They happen most often during revisions when the author cuts, copies, or rewrites a sentence or paragraph and loses track of what exactly is where. Again, the author should catch that, but authors are focused on creating; the editor’s sole purpose is to catch these things.

·       Scenes or conversations that cover the same information multiple times. Again, I often do this in first drafts, as I’m not sure which I like better and know I’ll be by here again. Once again, this is the author’s responsibility, but pointing out such things is what the editor is paid to do.

·       Last, and maybe most egregious, I recently read a book where the tenses changed erratically throughout. I understand this in dialog; some people talk that way. The narrative tense needs to be consistent, certainly within a paragraph.

I was lucky when working with a publisher. Most of my books were edited by Chris Rhatigan and are better because of his efforts. Over time he came to recognize my stylistic choices and either stopped ‘correcting’ them or made suggestions as to the passage could be improved.

Publishers do less for authors all the time. The least we should be able to expect is a professional editing job. I could guess why it’s not that way, but I would be guessing, and my guesses would not be flattering.

Oh, yeah. This one came in at 663 words, including this sentence. Down from 798, thanks to judicious editing.

A Case for the Legitimate Uses of AI

It’s safe to say I’ve been harsh in my denunciations of writers who use artificial intelligence in their work. Nothing I’ll say here contradicts that. Artificial intelligence (AI) is, and will continue to be, useful in too many aspects of life to mention; I welcome many of them. It’s in the creative arena where I have my primary issues with its use.

Let’s get the vitriol out of the way: I have no time for ‘writers’ who use AI to ‘create’ anything, or even to generate ideas. If you feel the need for AI to write ad copy or marketing materials or a news or journal article, you be you. Just don’t call yourself a writer, as you’re a notch below plagiarist on the food chain. At least the copycat looked up what to steal.

That said, AI can be of legitimate value to writers. I’ll use myself as an example.

I used to print my final drafts a chapter at a time and read them aloud, marking the printed page as I found things that needed improvement. This became a difficult process when I developed macular degeneration, as I had to devote too much concentration to reading accurately to have any left over for listening to how it fell on the ear.

Enter Microsoft Word’s Read Aloud feature, which allows me to listen to a disembodied voice read what I see on the screen, which I magnify and reverse the image to accommodate my eyesight. I then go back and make the necessary changes right there on the screen.

How do I remember what needs to be changed? I never do more than a chapter at a time, and I always have Word display the document’s line numbers. I then make note of which lines need an adjustment and go directly there to make them.

A piece of advice: When making corrections in this manner, work backward. That way the line numbers you’re looking for won’t have changed as you make edits to the document.

When that draft is complete, I use the Check Document tool to look for spelling, grammar, and a few other potential errors. Many – maybe even most – of the suggestions will be ignored in a work of fiction. Names, places, and bits of dialog may not be in Word’s dictionary until I add them. (‘Jagov’ comes to mind in the Penns River stories, as well as names such as Napierkowski, Neuschwander, and Wierzbicki.) I may want some grammar to remain incorrect, especially in dialog. (As Chandler once famously wrote, “When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will remain split.”) The clarity check typically calls out passive voice, which my years of writing documents for the government make me particularly prone to.

That’s what I use AI for: proofreading. It makes up for my deficiencies in vision and lack of training in proper grammar. Creating and driving the story forward are my job and always will be. AI’s only function is to clean up the horse shit after my parade has passed. 

An Interview With Eric Beetner, Author of Real Bad, Real Soon

 Among the joys of being a writer is getting to know people like Eric Beetner. As nice a person as I know, Eric is, in addition to being a gifted author, a musician, an artist, and a telented video editor with seven Emmy nominations to his credit.

It’s been way too long since he’s been here, so the occasion of hois newest book, Real Bad, Real Soon, the sequel to last year’s outstanding The Last Few Miles of Road.

One Bite at a Time: Your books read as though they’re passing directly into the reader’smind with little or no authorial intrusion. As a writer myself, I know that’s a lot harder todo than it might sound. How do you manage it?

Eric Beetner: As much as I love a well-crafted sentence that makes you pause and marvel over the word choice, the simile, the metaphor I’d have never thought of – they also risk taking a reader out of the story. The scenario I just described means I’ve stopped reading and am now thinking of the author. I don’t want people to think about me at all when they read my books. I should be invisible.

In a way, I think my day job as a TV/Film editor may influence that. My craft, when done right, is invisible to the viewer. You should never come out of a movie and think, “Man, that was so well cut.” If you notice it, then it’s not really well cut except in instances of music montage or specifically designed editorial moments, but even those are there as showpieces and outliers when it comes to telling the story. You have your moment (think of the many music montages in Goodfella, let’s say) then the song fades, and you go back to being invisible.

 approach writing the same way. My favorite books to read are ones where the story moves along as if by an unseen hand. There is craft in that. It’s not dumbing down language so the reader doesn’t have to “think” about it. Rather, it’s being aware that language is there to be understood easily and in most cases, simplicity is best to communicate your story.

 

OBAAT: You always have a unique take on hit men. First there were Lars and Shaine inthe Devil books. Now it’s Carter McCoy, Breanna, and a third person I won’t namebecause it will spoil the ending of The Last Few Miles Of Road. I’m not asking youwhere you get your ideas – well, sort of, maybe – but what inspired these twists on agenre that has been done to death?

EB: If I’m starting to write a crime novel I assume going in there will be death, so I think how can I make it something you might not have seen before? I like exploring the consequences of violence. I don’t ever want to take it lightly. I want there to be a cost to any death on the page. If I’m thinking in those terms, then the characters have to adjust and they sort of automatically get this extra layer on top you don’t get if someone is just a cold-blooded killer.

If you look at the best books and films where there is a cypher of a person whose only job is to be the best killer out there with zero emotion, then the true center of the story is usually someone else who the audience can connect with because there’s no empathizing with an emotionless killing machine.

OBAAT: This is mostly for the fledgling writers out there, but how has your experienceas an author differed from what you expected?

EB: You are catching me on a day where my only answer is that is has been SO MUCH HARDER than I wanted it to be. I’ve been kicked in the crotch by this business more times than I can count and I often wonder why I persist. I could run down the list of all the indignities and bad breaks I’ve gotten, but we don’t have the space and nobody wants to hear me complain.

When I started publishing in 2009, I had a Freshman class of other writers who I knew and was close with and others who I was aware of and have followed their careers. I’d say easily 75% of them have fallen away. Cancelled contracts, dropped by agents, lost the fire – whatever the cause, I’m still hanging around where so many have quit. Others of the peer group are still going because they’ve achieved a measure of success which is great to see.

I’m sure I’ve made some poor choices, trusted some wrong people, which has contributed to my frustration and my lack of sales. But every time I think of writing my big send-off letter on my way out the door and detailing the crushing lows of what I’ve endured, I’m reminded of how many kind people I’ve met, how many hands up, favors, kindnesses small and large I’ve been on the receiving end of over my time and I realize it’s not at all bad. Not in the least.

So yeah, I’ve never been a best seller. Can’t seem to make a foreign sales deal, never had a movie made. I’ve had MULTIPLE publishers go out of business while publishing my stuff. Had books I delivered in full end up never coming out. Had to pivot and adjust and re-think everything at every turn. But what makes it worth it are the friends I’ve made. Many are the same names on my shelf who I love to read year after year. And the experiences I’ve had, even in the relatively small-time world of my publishing career.

It is NOT for the weak or the thin skinned. It’s a brutal, heartbreaking, commerce-driven business that will chew you up and spit you out. But if you need to tell stories, if you love other book people, if you want to meet your heroes up close and see how down-to-earth they really are, then come on in. Even if you only last a short time, once you write and publish a book, it’s something nobody can take away from you and something relatively few people actually do (though on most days it feels like everyone and their mother has written a book)

OBAAT: When we chatted in 2017, you said, “I’m always fighting my instinct to write acharacter who is fifty as the ‘older’ guy.” Carter McCoy is well past fifty, so you clearlygot over it. What changed in your outlook, and not just that you got older. A lot of writersget older and never get past that hurdle.

EB: I like writing characters with a history and some life experience. For Carter, I needed someone with nothing to lose. Literally. You can’t take his life from him because he’s only got weeks, maybe months to live. I could have given a young guy his disease, but I also liked the idea of a man who has reached his 70s and lived a good life and now has to struggle with himself to see if he can become someone else, and if killing someone who he thinks deserves it will fundamentally change who he is. These were all interesting ideas to me that carried more weight when he had a few more years in him. Everyone changes in their 20s in a thousand different ways. Far fewer people reinvent themselves in their 70s.

But hey, I’m smart enough to give him a younger person to interact with and readers to react to. The Carter McCoy books aren’t written for a geriatric crowd, even as I quickly approach that stage myself.

OBAAT: When you were here in 2015 I asked, “If you could have written any book of thepast hundred years, what would it be, and what is it about that book you admire most?”Your reply: “I’ll say Wild at Heart. I’m a huge Barry Gifford fan and this is ground zero formost people on his work and the start of his most famous creation, the Sailor and Lulabooks.”

It’s been ten years. Would your answer be the same?

EB: I’m not sure. Maybe the cynical answer would be to pick something that has sold much better. I honestly think that the satisfaction for me lies in the fact that I have written books and created now a body of work of which I am enormously proud. I’d hate to think of writing someone else’s book. That’s their story to tell just as I think my books could only have been written by me. When I think about quitting or the inevitable day when I’ll be done by choice or by circumstance, I know that I did what I set out to do creatively. Commercially, there are many goals still left to attain. I have ambitions and goals both big and small. But I can rest easy knowing I have created more in the fiction world than I ever thought possible. I’ve told stories that are different and while I know I’ve recycled themes that are interesting to me, I’ve written mostly vastly different books. I’ve taken chances, experimented, stretched beyond my comfort zone. I have books I’d put up against most of my favorite authors and can think, “Yeah, that belongs on the same shelf.”

It’s gratifying to think that and it took a while, but I’m at a sort of peace with what I’ve done for myself, even if I haven’t cracked a wide readership. Knowing I connected at all with even a small audience is amazing and beyond my expectations when I began.

OBAAT: You are a master of the short series, two or three books. Have you ever been tempted to go back and revisit an old series, say, for instance, Lars and Shaine, or the McGraws from the Rumrunners books?

EB: Three seems right to me. I don’t know that I could write a ten- or twenty-book series. Hats off to those who do. It’s a challenge.

When Wolfpack picked up the Rumrunners books there were only two. A trilogy seems better, especially in a book bundle the way they are packaged now, so I wrote a third book many years after the last stab at that series. It’s called Sideswipe and it’s only in that ebook bundle and because of that it may be my least read novel, but I still like it.

Going back after so long was easier than I expected.

I co-wrote a trilogy with Frank Zafiro, The ‘List’ Series (The Backlist, The Short List, The Getaway List) and he floated the idea that we revisit that one. I hesitated, then he suggested two novellas we could pair into one volume and that sparked an idea (because the end of Book Three felt fairly final). So I did write that and Frank is going to write his half when he has time in his very busy writing schedule. That’ll technically be four books in that series, which will make it the longest I’ve done.

Lars and Shaine for sure is done. I can’t see another story with them. The McGraws as well. After Carter I may be done with series entirely, even trilogies. But I know myself enough to know that if an idea comes or if someone wants more books with characters I created in any of the unsold books I’ve written, then I doubt I’d say no. If someone challenged me (and gave me contracts) for a ten-book series, I’d take the challenge and try to push myself because that’s just what I do, ill-advised or not.

Joseph Wambaugh 1937 - 2025

Joe Wambaugh died yesterday at his home in California of esophageal cancer. He was 88.

 

I discovered his writing when I was in high school, a paperback copy of The New Centurions. Afte that the Blue Knight and the Police Story TV shows he created and co-produced. More than anyone, it was he who put the bug in my ear about cops.

 

I didn’t read him for a long time after. I went to college, got deeply involved in music, and read virtually all non-fiction for many years after. I came back to him with The Choirboys about ten years ago, then The Onion Field. Read all the ‘Hollywood Station” books. Right now I’m about halfway through reading, or re-reading, all his books in order.

 

No one had a greater influence on me as a writer of police procedurals; only three are roughly equivalent. (Alphabetically, Connie Fletcher, Ed McBain, David Simon.) His willingness to deviate from the main story line to show some of what cops have to face, either from the bosses or weird calls from citizens, allowed me to greatly loosen up how I told the Penns River stories, and for the better. His use of dark, sometimes even inappropriate humor also served as permission for me to more fully express myself.

 

No one I know who interacted with him ever had anything other than good things to say about him as a person. My personal story is, after coming across his web site in 2016, I dropped a line in the Contact page to tell him how much his books had meant to me. He wrote back to get my address, and a few days later two elegant bookmarks arrived in the mail. Silver on blue, they had an image of his LAPD badge and a listing of his books in order. He signed both on the back. On one he wrote,

“To Dana King,

That was a lovely message. Made my day

Warmest regards,

Joe Wambaugh”

Those are still my go-to bookmarks for whatever I’m currently reading. They never leave the house, lest I lose them.

 

  

Writer's Block

 I will be brief:

There is no such thing as writer’s block.

THE END

 

 

AFTERWORD

Writer’s block can safely be attributed to a writer’s desire to either

A>  Procrastinate.

B>  Make writing appear to be a more exalted job than it is.

I’ll not waste time on procrastination. We can always find things to do to put off writing. Dishes, dusting, going down an internet wormhole, watching old movies. Why, just the other day I –

I’ll not waste any more  time on procrastination.

A more exalted job? “It’s not a job, you cretin. It’s a calling. It’s a career. It’s the air I breathe.”

Calm down. Those may be the reasons you do it. Doing it is a job. You sit your ass down and write. Period.

Acknowledging that it’s a job removes the cache from saying “I’m blocked,” which too often makes the writer present him- or herself as a tragic hero/heroine. Get over yourself. You’re not William The Wallace or Joan of Arc. You’re a writer.

To borrow an analogy from Reed Farrel Coleman, do teachers get Teacher’s Block? “Take a study hall today, kids. I’m blocked.” Ask a journalist if they get Journalist’s Block. “Sorry, Editor, I can’t give you those twelve inches you need on the president’s speech. I just don’t know where to start.”

I’ve written a Nick Forte private eye novel and a Western since I last spent time on my Penns River series. I’m well into two Fortes and have a heist novel about half plotted; the next Penns River novels isn’t coming to me. Am I blocked?

If I was, I’m not anymore.

The problem I had (past tense) moving forward with Penns River was that I was looking at too large a scope. I wanted to include police corruption, the growing power of the biker gang, and an old acquaintance of Doc’s coming back to town to become his nemesis. I was hung up trying to find stories I could hang from those.

That’s not how I work. My process is to find a lodgepole story and then find the other stuff to hang from it. I’d been looking at it ass backward.

Problem solved. I still have the work to do, but that’s only a matter of putting ass in seat and doing my job.

What people call writer’s block is no more than looking at too big a problem to be solved. Break it down. Eat the elephant one bite at a time, dumbass.

 

An Interview with Sam Wiebe, Author of Ocean Drive

 Sam Wiebe is onw of my favorite interviews on the blog. We first met when we shared a table at the Shamus Award banquet in Raleigh in 2015. Since then we’ve stayed in touch personally, and Sam has become one of the handful of writers whose books I will buy just because they came out.

His newest entry is Ocean Drive.

One Bite at a Time: Welcome back to the blog, Sam. I always look forward to seeing you here.

Your newest book, Ocean Drive, is a departure for you in a couple of ways we’ll get into as we go. First, and most obvious, it’s not a private eye book. What sent you in this new direction?

Sam Wiebe: I wanted to write about the Washington-B.C. border, where you have sleepy towns like White Rock that also happen to be the site of transnational criminal enterprises. The novel investigates that from the point of view of a cop, Megan Quick, on the outside looking in, and a recently paroled killer, Cameron Shaw, who’s inside and trying to get out.

OBAAT: I got to the end of Ocean Drive and thought, “Oooo. A series,” as you’re as good as anyone I know at keeping a series fresh. Two questions here: Was I right about Ocean Drive being the pilot for a series? How do keep a series fresh while still touching all the bases people love about it?

SW: I love a good series. With Wakeland, there’s infinite inspiration because the Pacific Northwest is constantly changing. I don’t know if Ocean Drive will continue in that way, but I think it would make a swell TV show…(Editor’s Note: Oh, yeah.)

OBAAT: Your PI books are in the traditional PI first person; Ocean Drive alternates POV by chapter. Is one or the other easier or harder for you? What do you see as the advantages or disadvantages for the kinds of stories you write?

SW: First person has a tighter focus but a fuller expression of voice, whereas with third person you can put voices in conversation with each other. Megan’s chapter can end on a cliffhanger, and then Cam’s can pick up at the same point or earlier.

OBAAT: You’ve said that Ross MacDonald’s Lew Archer books are more about revelation than resolution. I see some of that in Ocean Drive. Who else influenced you in writing this book?

SW: An agent compared Cam’s voice in Ocean Drive to the Springsteen song “Straight Time.” That was nice to hear. I really like the way Richard Stark/Donald Westlake shifts point of view in the Parker novels. And Attica Locke’s Bluebird Bluebird is really great in terms of a law enforcement character who’s out of step with the others in their profession.

OBAAT: A personal, for me, question: Have we seen the last of Dave Wakeland? I hope not, but I also understand how authors’ interests evolve.

SW: Nope! The Last Exile is out this spring.

The PI genre is my favorite by far. It’s the closest to literature and the closest to real life—at least when it’s done well. 

OBAAT: The Beloved Spouse™ and I are returning to Bouchercon in New Orleans this September. Do you have your schedule set up for the year? Where can folks find you, either in person or online?

SW:. At samwiebe.substack.com I write a newsletter a few times a month, mostly reviewing old crime films and novels. samwiebe.com is my website. I also write under the pen name Nolan Chase, and the second Ethan Brand novel, A Lonesome Place for Murder, comes out this summer.

Thanks, Dana! Best to you and Corky.

Legitimate Uses of AI for Writers

 It’s safe to say I’ve been harsh in my denunciations of writers who use artificial intelligence in their work. Nothing I’ll say here contradicts that. Artificial intelligence (AI) is, and will continue to be, useful in too many aspects of life to mention; I welcome many of them. It’s in the creative arena where I have my primary issues with its use.

Let’s get the vitriol out of the way: I have no time for ‘writers’ who use AI to ‘create’ anything, or even to generate ideas. If you feel the need for AI to write ad copy or marketing materials or a news or journal article, you be you. Just don’t call yourself a writer, as you’re a notch below plagiarist on the food chain. At least the copycat looked up what to steal.

That said, AI can be of legitimate value to writers. I’ll use myself as an example.

I used to print my final drafts a chapter at a time and read them aloud, marking the printed page as I found things that needed improvement. This became a difficult process when I developed macular degeneration, as I had to devote too much concentration to reading accurately to have any left over for listening to how it fell on the ear.

Enter Microsoft Word’s Read Aloud feature, which allows me to listen to a disembodied voice read what I see on the screen, which I magnify and reverse the image to accommodate my eyesight. I then go back and make the necessary changes right there on the screen.

How do I remember what needs to be changed? I never do more than a chapter at a time, and I always have Word display the document’s line numbers. I then make note of which lines need an adjustment and go directly there to make them.

A piece of advice: When making corrections in this manner, work backward. That way the line numbers you’re looking for won’t have changed as you make edits to the document.

When that draft is complete, I use the Check Document tool to look for spelling, grammar, and a few other potential errors. Many – maybe even most – of the suggestions will be ignored in a work of fiction. Names, places, and bits of dialog may not be in Word’s dictionary until I add them. (‘Jagov’ comes to mind in the Penns River stories, as well as names such as Napierkowski, Neuschwander, and Wierzbicki.) I may want some grammar to remain incorrect, especially in dialog. (As Chandler once famously wrote, “When I split an infinitive, God damn it, I split it so it will remain split.”) The clarity check typically calls out passive voice, which my years of writing documents for the government make me particularly prone to.

That’s what I use AI for: proofreading. It makes up for my deficiencies in vision and lack of training in proper grammar. Creating and driving the story forward are my job and always will be. AI’s only function is to clean up the horse shit after my parade has passed.

An Interview With Chris Bauer, Author of I Heard You Paint Cowboys

 I became aware of Chris Bauer’s work at a Noir at the Bar event at the Creatures, Crimes, and Creativity conference several years ago. His flash piece never fail to capture the audience and he doesn’t confine himself to a particular niche or genre.

Besides being an outstanding writer, Chris is a hell of a nice guy, as evidenced by the fact he’s from Philadelphia and I still interviewed him for the blog.

His new book is I Heard You Paint Cowboys.

One Bite at a Time: Hard to believe this is your first time on the blog, long as we’ve known each other and as much as I enjoy your work. Let’s start with the obvious question that may be on readers’ minds: where did you get the title I Heard You Paint Cowboys?

Chris Bauer: It’s a compromise, with a significant story behind it. It’s a thriller that began the submission process with the title America is a Gun, which is the title of a poem by UK poet Brian Bilston who, at the time, wasn’t as popular as he is now. (He’s outstanding; a very visual, observational, warm poet; people should check him out. He’s been dubbed the Poet Laureate of the internet, although he might have come up with that title himself. Readers can’t believe much of what he says, but in reality they should believe all of it.) I felt the America, etc. title captured the dilemma the U.S. faces with its proliferation of guns, plus it is a majorly “in your face,” “poke the bear” kind of title, and I like poking the bear. I contacted Mr. Bilston to see if he might give me permission to include his poem in the novel. He shocked me by a) responding to me, and b) saying yes. Fast forward: my agent at the time said nope, no way, the America, etc. title is too in your face, plus she wouldn’t shop the book because the topic’s too controversial. Boo-hiss; I’m no longer her client. Then came some interest from Independent Publisher Number One, folks who have published a number of my books. They eventually also said nope, you’ll piss off half your potential readers, plus we’d rather not publish it, it’s a tad too controversial, etc. Along came Independent Publisher Number Two who said we’d love to publish it but not with that title, again, too in your face, so what else you got? The first title that popped into my head—true fact—was I Heard you Paint Cowboys. It came from having recently seen Scorsese’s megahit movie “The Irishman,” based on Charles Brandt’s NYT bestselling true crime account book titled I Heard You Paint Houses, about organized crime hitman Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran from Philly, someone who claimed he offed Jimmy Hoffa. Secondly, the paint-art aspect works (art theft is a major plotline), the cowboys aspect works (a 1916 painting by N. C. Wyeth, “Wild Bill Hickok at Cards,” is heavily featured), the Philly connection works, and it’s not a stretch that the organized crime aspect works as well, when trying to categorize the real-life relationship the gun lobby has with gun manufacturers. Even though the title changed, the “America is a Gun” poem is still in there. So I’d love it if some of Mr. Bilston’s 316,000 Facebook “friends” would check out the novel, do you hear me, Brian Bilston FB community?

OBAAT: Counsel Fungo isn’t just an unusual name; she’s an unusual character. Tell us a little about her and why she is the way she is.

CB: I introduced Counsel Fungo in Binge Killer, released 2019, a rather violent novel where she chases a terminally ill killer to a small town in upstate Pennsylvania. Fungo is her married name; she kept it after her divorce. (I like the sound of it: “fun-go,” a type of baseball bat, and I love baseball. A different enough surname that maybe readers won’t forget it.) Trivia/easter egg stuff coming, so pay attention. She has an older brother named Judge Drury, the protagonist of the novel Jane’s Baby, a political thriller of mine. Backstory is their U.S. senator father wanted them both to become lawyers and follow in his footsteps, so he named his first born Judge, his sister Counsel. Other quirks: They both have Tourette syndrome, they both entered law enforcement, both became bounty hunters, and both have working dog partners. One day they will work together. The author hasn’t found the right case for them to work on yet.

OBAAT: What inspired you to write I Heard You Paint Cowboys?

CB: A combination of things. I wrote a horrifically gruesome short story titled “Kitchen Sink” in 2013, where a marginalized character (born female, identifies as male) is caught up in a gruesome crime where its multiple victims’ funeral arrangements were handled by a restaurant’s garbage disposer. A few of my short stories, published and unpublished, have become fodder for longer pieces. Second, I was intrigued by a piece I read on the early-nineteenth-century theft of the Mona Lisa and the search for it while it was missing. Third, I wanted to address the proliferation of civilian-owned assault-style weapons in the U.S. As a fugitive recovery agent, protagonist Counsel Fungo is not against the Second Amendment; she just wants no more assault-style long guns to enter the civilian population, and she’d rather much of that existing semi-automatic population be destroyed. Fourth, there are suggestions in the novel that direct law-abiding gunowners away from the current Number One gun-lobby gunowners association, not be named here, toward more benevolent gunowner groups that might be willing to tell their legislators to change the way people can obtain guns: better background checks, address the gun show loopholes, and are anti-assault-style weapons. And one suggestion I’d really like to see take hold: have these organizations acknowledge prospective victims of mass shootings and gun violence not simply with “thoughts and prayers,” but by having a portion of their membership dues specifically earmarked for their families. The newer, nicer, fictional, gunowner group the novel showcases does all these things.

OBAAT: You have enough novels under your belt now to have a pretty good idea of what process works for you. Describe that to our readers.

CB: I like writing thrillers, crime-type novels, and I’ve written horror and paranormal. I call myself a plantser, a “pantser-planner” combo. First there’s the germ of the idea, maybe a wrong that needs to be made right (gun lobby interference), or an oddity impacting common understanding of a controversial circumstance (Roe v Wade, highlighted in Jane’s Baby: the real-life Jane Roe did have the baby she wanted to abort, something that many people hadn’t realized), or the little known world of crime scene cleaning (the Blessid Trauma Crime Scene Cleaners series: who cleans up the scene after the cops leave?). Then comes creating the characters. I like making them quirky, with unique things about them to make them interesting (at least to me). Counsel Fungo has Tourette’s. “Wump” Hozer, my beloved Catholic church custodian in Scars on the Face of God, is an ex-con who earned his nickname from the sound a crowbar makes when it hits a person’s head. Max Fend, the creation of USA Today bestselling author Andrew Watts and a protagonist in the Maximum Risk thriller series, is a benevolent billionaire “playboy” who does piece work for U.S. security agencies in exotic locales.

Second, I outline the entire story chapter by chapter, working toward a climax that I think a reader would enjoy, creating conflict, a subplot or two, and twists. I’ll do the general plot and take a multiple-twisty way to get what I hope will be a satisfying, raucous conclusion. Then I sit down and write the damn thing, shooting for anywhere from 70K-90K words, or roughly 275 to 300+ pages. I’ve written novels in as little as 4.5 months and as long as six years (my first).

OBAAT: Who, or what, do you consider to be your primary influences? Could be a writer, book, movie, TV show, director. Whatever you feel has made you the writer you are today.

CB: When asked, I always highlight one novelist first: Steve Shilstone, who penned a wonderful baseball book titled Chance, published 2000. He now writes fantasy and poetry, but the voice of his unnamed narrator in Chance entertained me immensely, and it helped me find my own. Chance contains outstanding odd characters, great dialogue, and it all plays off the crazy, unique personalities that populated organized baseball in the twentieth century. There’s also Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem, which provided great conflict in the organized crime environment by way of an extremely quirky Tourette’s-afflicted character named Lionel Essrog. Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum bounty-hunter character inspired me to write a novel about a female fugitive recovery agent; Counsel Fungo now has two books about her. Carl Hiaasen does it for me, too; excellent nutjob characters, plenty of humor. Go Carl.

OBAAT: The classic final question: What are you working on now?

CB: Working on what could be a highly controversial series that crisscrosses political satire with various genres. One feature done, more in the hopper. I’m also invested in producing a post-WWII thriller that follows a 1940s Philly police detective through his Navy enlistment, his assignment to the Pacific theater, his survival in a Japanese POW camp, then his post-war Office of Naval Intelligence work in nuclear-ravaged, Allies-occupied Japan, where he needs to solve a few violent crimes perpetrated by Allied troops. Fun.

Thanks for having me on, Dana. A pleasure reading your blog, and a pleasure being on it. Readers can find me at chrisbauerauthor.net and on Facebook (cgbauer), Instagram (cntbauer1), Twitter/X (cgbauer), Bluesky (realchrisbauer), and a tiny presence on tiktok (chrisbauerauthor101).

 

An Interview with Dietrich Kalteis, Authof of Crooked

 Dietrich Kalteis is a regular visitor to this page, with good reason. He’s a fine writer whose books are always fresh and never predictable. He’s also a good friend and always an interesting interview. His newest book is Crooked. That’s the title. The book looks like any other book. Except for the cover, which is unique to Crooked. You get the point.

One Bite at a Time: Welcome back to the blog, Dietrich. It’s always a pleasure to have you. Crooked deals with the life and crimes of notorious Depression-era bank robber Alvin Karpis. The era did not lack for notorious bank robbers. What attracted you to Karpis?

Dietrich Kalteis: Thanks for inviting me, Dana. It’s nice to be back.

When I was researching for my novel Call Down the Thunder, also set in the same era as Crooked, I came across an archived newspaper article about Karpis and the Barkers. I looked up more about them and became intrigued in the gang’s crime spree and their evasion from the law which spanned over five years, making them the longest-running criminal outfit back then. I saw there was a story waiting to be told.

OBAAT: Avoiding any spoilers, did you learn anything about Karpis that surprised you? Or about the Barkers?

DK: Alvin Karpis was smart and exceptionally good at avoiding capture. Using a number of aliases, he set up various bank accounts, had stashes and a solid network of underground connections around the country. For instance, he and the Barkers sought safe haven in St. Paul where they were under the protection of a corrupt police chief, that is as long as they committed their crimes outside of his jurisdiction. Along with Fred and Doc Barker, Karpis used an alternating cast of midwestern criminals for their crimes.

One surprise about the gang was that Kate “Ma” Barker wasn’t the brains of the outfit as portrayed in the movies Bloody Mama and Killer Brood, or as stated by J Edgar Hoover after her untimely demise. Bank robber and gang associate, Harvey Bailey once stated, "Ma Barker couldn't even plan breakfast.”

OBAAT: I know you do a lot of research for your period pieces. How much of Crooked is true, how much is fiction, and how much is conjecture?

DK: The timeline of their crimes is accurate. I did cherrypick my way through a lot of archived material, using the moments that I felt would best bring the story to life. Of course, interactions between the characters are all conjectured, and their conversations are a play on how I imagined the characters to be.

OBAAT: In recent years you’ve written several historical novels. What provoked and sustained this interest? (Full disclosure: I’ve had an itch to write one myself but the research required has put me off so far.)

DK: Significant social and political corruption along with the 1906 San Francisco earthquake made for the perfect backdrop for House of Blazes. The isolation and desperation of the Dustbowl times on the Central Plains were ideal for Call Down the Thunder. The hard times of the 30s seemed right for both Under an Outlaw Moon and Crooked. The punk music scene of the late 70s became the perfect backdrop for Zero Avenue. And the taxi wars of Chicago during prohibition formed the background for my upcoming novel Dirty Little War. For me, setting needs to add atmosphere and interest, and it’s a bonus if it helps build tension and pace as well.

OBAAT: Your dialog sounds as much like two people talking as any writer I can think of. Any tricks or suggestions you can pass along to others looking to improve?

DK: I keep a notebook with detailed descriptions of each of the characters, including detailed backgrounds, and I find images that I attribute to them. As I’m working through the early drafts, I get to know them. And as they start to flesh out and come to life, it feels like they start talking on their own. That’s when I know I’ve got it right.

OBAAT: You have enough of a catalog now for the following question to have relevance: which of your books should someone unfamiliar with your work start with if they want to get a good idea of your style to be encourage to read more? Beside Crooked, I mean. The new book is always a given.

DK: I suppose it really depends on what a reader is looking for in a story. I’ve written about bounty hunters, smugglers, gangsters, pot growers, ex-cops, punk rockers, and about relationships from hell. If a reader prefers a story with more heart I’d likely suggest Nobody from Somewhere, the story of a dying old man who rescues a runaway teen. If a story based on real events appeals to a reader, then I might offer Under an Outlaw Moon, which is based on real-life bank robbers Bennie and Stella Dickson.

 

An Interview With Beau Johnson, Author of Like Minded Individuals

 Beau Johnson is an annual guest here, and the blog is better because of it. Beau is always entertaining and gives thoughtful answers, no matter what kind of goofy questions I throw at him. He also knows more about cheese than is considered healthy by most people.

His new book, Like-Minded Individuals, drops on Monday.

 

One Bite at a Time: Welcome back to the blog, Beau. It’s always a pleasure catching up with you.

Your new book is titled Like-Minded Individuals: A Bishop Rider Book. Bishop has been away for a while; I won’t say why. What brought him back?

Beau Johnson: Hi, Dana. First off I want to thank you for lifting the ban! That was a tough couple years, and I apologize for the misunderstanding. I’m glad we could sort things out and know that never again will I mistake pillows for something they are not! I kid, of course, but it’s always nice to throw a John Candy reference out there when I can. So, Bishop Rider. If I’m honest, he’s not really back. He’s still dead last time I checked.  But as ever, his ghost looms large, ensuring his war continues.

OBAAT: A couple of years ago you said in an interview with the This is Horror web site that “horror and crime are cousins of a sort.” Would you care to elaborate?

BJ: It’s a fine line I think.  A balancing act.  The monsters Bishop Rider fought and the ones Jeramiah Abrum continues on with, they do more than just go bump in the night. The rapists, the pedophiles, the human traffickers. They’re real. They aren’t made up. Not really. The crimes Bishop Rider and Jeramiah Abrum attempt to abate as scary-horrible as they come.

OBAAT: You specialize in short stories, though you are also a not infrequent contributor to Shotgun Honey, which I consider the pre-eminent venue for crime flash fiction. What is the appeal, and what are the challenges, to going even shorter than usual with your writing?

BJ: The challenges of flash are the same as a short story in my opinion, only compacted. You have to get in, get out, but tell a coherent story all the same. My own goal or mantra when writing anything is ‘set the hook, omit the boring parts, and stick the landing’. I’ve gotten better at it over the years, but as with a lot of things, I have much to learn.

OBAAT: Reviewer Michael Patrick Hicks wrote this about Bishop Rider and Jeramiah Abrum: “They aren’t good guys. But they may be the necessary guys, the right guys, the ones needed to fix — or at least send a message to — our neutered justice system, the bastard cops, and an immoral country that caters wholly to the white, wealthy, and powerful.” Care to comment?

BJ: I’ve always stated Bishop Rider was the bad guy.  This hasn’t changed.  He believed it, struggled with it, but did what he felt he had to all the same.  Jeramiah is a different breed, choosing to see things through a lens Rider never could. In other words, Jeramiah believes he’s the good guy. The way things are going post-Rider, how they’ve escalated, I suspect he always will.

OBAAT: If memory serves, and correct me if I’m wrong, you were talking about quitting. We’re all glad you didn’t, but what changed your mind?

BJ: Well that is very kind of you to say, Dana.  It is. Truly. But yes, I did quit. The whole endeavor lasting a grand total of ten months until some very kind people helped me change my mind. It started with Shawn Cosby and went through to Paul J Garth, Laurel Hightower, Steve Stred, and too many others. The food for thought I was given, it was enough for me to realize I was doing a disservice to myself because of what I’d become focused upon. My most popular book then (and now) is my third, All Of Them To Burn. The absolute failure of Brand New Dark, my fourth book, is what brought around my decision to hang up the pen. In hindsight, however, I sometimes think maybe it had to happen. For the story to go on, I mean. It doesn’t paint me in a favourable* light, no, as I never thought of myself as a quitter, but here we are, two books past my self-imposed ‘retirement’ and I have to admit I’m still having fun. All told, I remain indebted. (* - Read with Canadian accent.)

OBAAT: The inevitable cheese question: what cheeses would you include in the ultimate macaroni and cheese recipe?

BJ: Have we ever talked about Havarti?

 

Sticking It to the Man

 I’ve made no secret of my disenchantment with the publishing industry. Last year I cancelled all my contracts and resolved to self-publish again. I had just about finished moving everything over to Kindle Direct Publishing when Amazon owner Jef Bezos showed how craven he truly was and began to humiliate himself more each day paying fealty to the incoming Felon-in-Chief. I have now pulled everything from Amazon, though the listings still survive due to used bookstores. Books sold under my name in Amazon will NOT send any money my way. Please ignore them. I have a better deal for you.

All my books, as well as a handful of short stories, are now available for free download on my web site. Three formats are available: PDF. MOBI (for Kindles), and EPUB (for Nook and other e-reader platforms). Go to the page with the book you want (links below), click the appropriate button, and the book will download to your computer, tablet, or phone at no cost to you.

Why am I no longer making even a token effort to sell my books? The only thing I enjoy about being an author is the writing and discussing the craft with other authors. Nothing – not a goddamned thing – about publishing or marketing gave me any pleasure at all. What was necessary to get my writing to the public became more tedious every day. I wasn’t making any money from writing, and I’m retired, so it wasn’t like I was trying to build a career. I’d rather spend more time writing than wasting it on marketing and the myriad of other publishing-related pains in my ass.

This means there won’t be any more print versions of my books, which is why I made PDF copies available. Whether or not you have an e-reader, if you’re reading this, you can read a PDF file.

For those who feel cheated at not being able to spend money on my books, there is something you can do for me. As I have removed myself from Amazon and Goodreads (an Amazon subsidiary), there is no place to post reviews. If you read a book of mine and like it – or don’t, either way – feel free to post a brief comment on social media; you can tag me if the comment appears on Facebook or Bluesky. Or you can drop me a line at danakingcrime@gmail.com. I promise to get back to you.

Below are all the books available, in order by series.

The Nick Forte Private Eye Novels

A Small Sacrifice. Forte is asked to look into a cold case. Very loosely based on the Jon-Benet Ramsey murder. Shamus Award nominee for Best Indy PI Novel.

The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of. Forte is hired to protect a ham actor, who is then murdered. My tribute to The Maltese Falcon.

The Man in the Window. The most music-oriented of the books, as Forte investigates the murder of a member of the Chicago Symphony. Nominated for a Shamus Award for Best Paperback Original.

A Dangerous Lesson. Forte is drawn into a serial killer investigation.

Bad Samaritan. Forte is inadvertently involved with toxic men’s rights activists.

Off the Books. Forte stumbles onto a human trafficking ring while investigating a fender bender.

The Penns River Novels

Worst Enemies. Penns River rarely has two homicides in a year. Two in a week is a problem.

Grind Joint. A new low-end casino that is supposed to provide economic growth causes more problems than it solves.

Resurrection Mall. A religious-themed shopping center becomes a focal point in a drug war.

Ten-Seven. A seemingly random shooting in the casino parking lot leads to unexpected problems.

Pushing Water. A mass shooting is not as clear-cut as it appears.

Leaving the Scene. A hit-and-run defies solution, as a changing of the guard and competing priorities distract the police.

White Out. A Black officer shoots an apparently unarmed white supremacist. More than a foot of snow and a poker tournament with a million-dollar cash prize coincide with the funeral.

The Spread. A high school football betting scheme leads to murder.

Standalones

Wild Bill. A decorated FBI agent is frustrated when the investigation he thinks will be a capstone to his career is derailed by a mob war. (Not a Western.)

Dead Shot: The Memoir of Walter Ferguson, Soldier, Marshal, Bootlegger.  The “memoir” of a man who lived through, and helped to shape, both the opening and closing of the frontier. (Is a Western.)

Free e-books make great gifts for any occasion, or none. Don’t hesitate to forward the links of those you think people will like, or e-mail them the book file itself. I want folks to enjoy them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

 

What Should a Review Be?

 

My introduction to the publishing industry came through reviewing books for the New Mystery Reader web site. I’d won an advanced reader’s copy of Elmore Leonard’s The Hot Kid in a contest run by HarperCollins, on the condition I write a review for them. I forwarded the result to Stephanie Padilla, the editor of NMR. She liked it enough to bring me on board. Thank you, Stephanie. Everything that happened since is your fault. 😊

I’d never done reviews before, so I did some research into what should be in them. The best advice I found was that a review should tell a prospective reader if the book passes the $25 test. (Of course it’s more now.) The reviewer’s primary job is to help readers decide if the book is worth spending their money, and time, on. (I wish I remembered who said that, but it was a long time ago and I’m old. In fact, today I’m officially older than I was yesterday. I better go lie down.)

Okay, I’m back. Keeping the “Twenty-five Dollar Rule” in mind, what should be in a review? As you might expect, I have ideas.

First, a brief synopsis of the story. Very brief. Do not divulge any plot twists or too much about the characters; “no spoilers” doesn’t apply only to the end of a book. There are many things that happen along the way readers should be able to enjoy without knowing they’re coming.

That’s why I generally don’t read the back covers of books. Many years ago my eyes accidentally came to rest on the back cover of Scott Phillips’s excellent novel Cottonwood, where I learned what was going to happen in the next chapter. It was something I never would have expected; now it was ruined. Don’t tell any more about the story than you have to for readers to know what kind of book it is. It’s a review, not a book report.

Brief excerpts are fine, so long as they don’t spoil anything. It can come in handy to give readers an example of something you particularly liked, or disliked. It allows them to make up their own minds should their tastes and yours not coincide.

This is especially true if you’re inclined to talk about the quality of the writing. I focus on this when I still do the occasional review, as I read less for the story than for how well it’s told. I enjoy a decent story that’s well-written far more than a fantastic story told to ham-handedly. (Of course, there are limits to how bad the story can be.)

You can also do prospective readers a favor by breaking down the craft for them a little. How dialog-heavy is the book? How good is the dialog? How much description is there? How good is it? Are the characters well drawn? What’s the pace? How much disbelief needs to be suspended, and how often? How much internal dialog is there? Is it used effectively? How violent is the book? How funny? Is it truly funny, or is the author merely trying to be funny? How tight is the writing?

I could go on, but you get the point. A proper review should not be a few paragraphs of story summary followed by one about whether you liked the book. Readers deserve more. (And less, when potential spoilers are involved.) We’ve all seen movie trailers that ruined the movie because they gave too much away. Don’t do that with your review.

Does Talent Matter?

 A Facebook meme a while back read, “People who say talent doesn’t matter are those who don’t have any.” (Or something like that. I’m retired, but I still have enough of a life not to worry about the precise wording of old Facebook memes.)

I don’t know if I agree completely, but I’m there at least ninety-nine percent of the way. I’d modify it to read, “People who say talent doesn’t matter are those who don’t want it to,” which strongly implies they don’t have it without being quite so accusatory.

This puts me in mind of what might be the best-learned lesson of my abortive musical career. I was never the best trumpet player beginning any level of school. I busted my ass and became one of the best at that level by outworking everyone else.

Then I went to grad school, where I encountered people with more talent who were willing to work as hard as I did. And a few who didn’t have to work nearly as hard.

I was, and remain, good friends with a player whose skills amazed even our teacher in the Boston Symphony, who said,  “I can’t play some of the shit he seems to sight read.” My friend went on to play Principal Trumpet in Memphis and retired a few years ago after twenty-plus years as Associate Principal in Montreal.

I’m not saying my friend didn’t work at it, but he started on a plane so much higher than mine there was no way I could keep up with him, let alone narrow the gap.

That’s what talent does for you.

Writing is like that. Stephen King once said there are four levels of writers:

1.    Incompetent

2.    Competent

3.    Good

4.    Great

He also said an incompetent writer cannot become competent; there’s something missing in how they’re wired or they wouldn’t be incompetent in the first place. A competent writer can become a good writer through studious study and application of the craft, but a good writer can no more become a great writer than the incompetent can become competent. There’s something missing, and that something is talent.

No one wanted to be a trumpet player more than I did. No one ever worked harder. Music got my best effort and I’m comfortable with the decision to leave. To use a baseball metaphor, I was at best a AA talent trying to play in The Show. I could hang in short stretches, but sooner or later the holes in my game would be exposed.

Writing has been different. There are ways to take advantage of one’s strengths and hide weaknesses that are available to writers that musicians can’t rely upon unless they get to play only the music they choose. I applied the lessons I learned from music and, I believe, promoted myself from competent good on.

And that’s as far as it goes.

I admire the work of Dennis Lehane and James Crumley and Elmore Leonard and Dashiell Hammett and many others. I learn from them. But I know I’ll never write at that level. That’s not a defeatist attitude. It’s a firm grip on reality. I’ve had two publishers, been nominated for two Shamus awards, get panels at every conference I attend, and have the respect of people I respect. If that’s as good as it gets, I’m fine with it.

Kurt Vonnegut was correct: It’s all right to be less than wonderful at something you love. What’s not all right is to have a false idea of where your ceiling might be and make yourself miserable trying to break through it. Life is too short. Take what victories you get from writing and use them to enhance your life.

This is why I don’t believe in bucket lists. I know too many people who have missed out on everyday pleasures because their eyes were too far down the road. They consider themselves failures unless they attain a level of accomplishment that may be beyond their control.

(This does not apply to writers who are still so new they don’t know where they fall on King’s spectrum. People need their dreams. They also need to know when to accept reality.)

I’m not saying anyone should quit if things aren’t going your way. I’m suggesting that, if the frustrations of the industry are sucking the joy from the craft, remember to enjoy the ride, even if you have to find a less ambitious destination.

An Interview With Jim Nesbitt, Author of the Ed Earl Burch Series of PI Novels

 Jim Nesbitt is a lapsed horseman, pilot, hunter, and saloon sport with a keen appreciation for old guns, vintage cars and trucks, good cigars, aged whisky without an 'e', and a well-told story. He is the award-winning author of four hard-boiled Texas crime thrillers that feature battered but relentless Dallas PI Ed Earl Burch -- The Last Second Chance, The Right Wrong Number, The Best Lousy Choice, and The Dead Certain Doubt. For more than thirty years, Nesbitt was a journalist, chasing hurricanes, earthquakes, plane wrecks, presidential candidates, wildfires, rodeo cowboys, neo-Nazis, and nuns with an eye for the telling detail and an ear for the voice of the people who give life to a story. A diehard Tennessee Vols fan, he now lives in enemy territory -- Athens, Alabama -- and is working on his fifth Ed Earl Burch novel, The Fatal Saving Grace.

Jim and I bonded over our shared love of private eye fiction and Deadwood, so it’s a treat to have him on the blog today.

One Bite at a Time: Jim, welcome back to the blog. It’s been way too long. (2018, to be precise.)

You’ve written four books in the Ed Earl Burch series. Where did the idea for Ed Earl come from?

Jim Nesbitt: Jeez, Louise -- he emerged from the mists so long ago, I had to dig deep into the cranial archives to find the shop manual for the boy. So, on Page 156 of the Chassis section, it says: When I started writing the first Ed Earl book, The Last Second Chance, I knew I wanted to write an Everyman character, somebody who would strike a chord with readers because they could identify with his strengths, weaknesses and quirks. I also wanted to create an anti-hero, a terminal smartass who has big problems with authority and a permanent chip on his shoulder, somebody who only uses The Book as a door stop and would just as soon shoot you as cuff you. Author buddy Michael Ludden once described Ed Earl as "smart, tough, profane and reckless." Author Robert Ward once said Burch is "nobody's hero, nobody's fool." That's about right.

OBAAT: How much of Ed Earl is you?

JN: People accuse me of having an alter-ego in Ed Earl all the time. And I'll cop to indulging some Walter Mitty fantasies through Ed Earl's frequently lethal antics. But I prefer to think that I'm his daddy. He's inherited some but, lucky for him, not all of my physical, biographical and psychological particulars, quirks and ailments.

Here's the tale of the tape:

We're both bald, bearded, beefy guys with bad knees and wounded livers. We both favor Colt 1911s in .45 ACP with a mix of hardball and hollow-points in the magazine. We're both built like beer barrels on toothpicks. He's got three exes, I've got two. He drinks Maker's Mark bourbon on the rocks, I used to but have switched back to George Dickel, Tennessee's better whisky (no e), now that I live about an hour south of the distillery. He likes to put a boot on the bar rail when he drinks; I'm a retired honky-tonker. He still fires up Lucky Strikes with a Zippo and chews Levi Garrett on stakeouts. I gave up Luckies a long time ago and finally ditched cigars, pipes and chew after a recent triple bypass. I've never been a cop and have never killed anybody. Ed Earl drops a lot of bodies -- as a cop and a P.I. He's a native Texan; I'm a lapsed wannabe who used to live in Dallas.

In truth, Ed Earl is a composite character, a hundred-proof mix of me and cops, lawyers, politicians, saloon sports and ink-stained journalists I've known through the years. He's also got a little bit of two of my favorite fictional characters, James Lee Burke's Clete Purcell and the late, great James Crumley's Milo Milodragovitch.

OBAAT: Ed Earl is not your garden variety private eye. Tell us a little about his personality, the cases he works, and why he is the way he is.

JN: Burch is hard-shelled and cynical but his scar tissue covers some deep wounds we all either have or know something about. The deepest of these is losing the gold shield of a Dallas homicide detective. Being a cop gave him a higher sense of purpose, a calling bigger than himself. Harry Bosch calls it Blue Religion. Burch mourns this loss but keeps it buried, for the most part, admitting it only to himself and only occasionally. Until he's offered a badge in the latest book, The Dead Certain Doubt, and has to take a hard look at whether he still wants to be a lawman or has been a semi-outlaw for so long that he needs be honest with himself and ditch the fantasy. That struggle is at the center of the in-progress Ed Earl book, The Fatal Saving Grace. He's got a badge again after two decades as a P.I. and is trying to remember the dance steps of chain-of-command, playing well with others, taking orders from idiots and being sharp and smart about the rules he bends or breaks. I'm still writing this one and will be just as surprised as the reader by the choice Burch makes.

I don't really write mysteries. I write hard-boiled crime thrillers, throwing Ed Earl into the briar patches of West Texas and northern Mexico to see if he survives. So far, he's been pretty unsinkable but usually winds up with more physical and psychological scars than he started out with. In The Last Second Chance, he chases down a drug lord who killed his partner and practices a weird mix of voodoo and Aztec heart sacrifice. Burch winds up with a broken jaw and vivid nightmares about winged serpents, Aztec jaguar knights and having his own heart carved out of his chest that he hoses down with Percocet and bourbon. It's the only way to chase the demons back into their holes so he can work a case.

Burch hates divorce work and skip tracing, even though he becomes damn good at chasing financial fugitives from the savings and loan bust that ravaged Dallas in the 1980s. He misses the action and moral clarity of being a murder cop. But that longing makes him a sucker for any chance of being a manhunter again. In The Best Lousy Choice, he takes on the suspicious death of a rich war hero, rancher and civic leader that nobody else wants to touch and winds up nearly getting killed by the murderous gunsels of the local cartel leader and a nasty group of Houston developers who want the dead man's ranch.

He also loves the ladies but usually falls for women far smarter and more lethal than he is. They tend to lead him around by the cojones until he wises up and gets himself back on track. Case in point: In The Right Wrong Number, Burch agrees to be the bodyguard of an ex-lover whose financier husband skips Houston with cash and diamonds ripped from his clients in the New Orleans mob. Savannah Crowe is a rangy strawberry blonde with a violent temper and a history of serial betrayal -- for both lust and money. She seduces Burch to keep him under her thumb until she trades her body for the mad skills of a Rice University computer scientist who cracks the code to her husband's offshore accounts. Burch gets a rude wakeup call when she kills two other bodyguards and skips town, leaving him as the fall guy for the cops.

 

OBAAT: Elvis Cole has Joe Pike. Easy Rawlins has Mouse. Spenser has Hawk, as well as Quirk and Belson for cop friends. Who does Ed Earl run with?

JN: Two people -- his dead partner, Wynn Moore, and the ever-deadly Carla Sue Cantrell, a petite blonde from East Tennessee by way of North Dallas who has a taste for muscle cars, high-quality crank and the terminal double-cross of outlaw partners and lovers. Moore, who calls everybody "sport model," pops up semi-frequently as a voice in Burch's head, reminding him of the hard rules of the detective game and scolding him for his choice of women and reliance on whiskey and pills. Cantrell has a hold on Burch's heart and has saved his ass more than once when the bad guys were about to kill him, usually with rounds from her own 1911. Call it a shared love of Old American Iron. She's the one who keeps telling him his longing for a badge is a fantasy and urges him to instead become a full-blown outlaw and partner in love and crime.

OBAAT: Who or what inspired you to write PI fiction in the first place, and what keeps you writing it?

JN: I've always thought of hard-boiled crime fiction as an American art form, particularly those that feature the lone shamus with a hard head, a gun and a shopworn code, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. It's a marvelously flexible genre that allows a writer to have his characters comment on or think about nearly anything in American life, from politics, neo-Nazis and the tragi-comic disconnect between men and women to the narrow difference between technical competence and true genius in music. As long as it helps define a character and doesn't get in the way of a well-told crime thriller or mystery. I'm a junkie for the old-school pioneers of the genre -- Hammett, Chandler -- their next generation followers -- John D. MacDonald, Ross Macdonald, Charles Williams, David Goodis -- and some latter-day greats -- Elmore Leonard, Lawrence Block, James Crumley and James Lee Burke. These are the authors I read religiously before I finally got the nerve to try my hand at fiction so it should be no surprise that I decided to try and follow in their footsteps. Lately, I've been reading some guy named King and his killer Nick Forte books. Gotta keep tabs on the competition. Might just learn some new dance moves.

OBAAT: You’ve described yourself as a recovering journalist. I get that; I often refer to myself as a recovering musician. “Recovering” implies some sort of addiction. What was it about journalism that hooked you?

JN: The juice, baby. The action. I used to love grabbing a go-bag, a laptop (well, a Radio Shack Trash 80) and a carton of Luckies to chase hurricanes. Spent 20 years on the road dogging politicians, rodeo cowboys, neo-Nazis, bikers, poker pros, migrant farm workers and folks caught up in the issues of the 80s, 90s and early 2000s, keeping the eyes and ears open for the details and voices that made those stories come to life. But I also broke into journalism in the late 1970s, when long-format stories were the rage and you could really stretch out and write, using the tradecraft common to fiction to tell your tale. It was damn good practice before I finally pulled the trigger to try my hand at fiction after years of foot-dragging.

OBAAT: Where can someone find you in 2025, either on the web or in person?

JN: That's a damn good question. I hope to have the next Ed Earl book finished by late January and out in February. I'm a horribly slow writer and am already two years too late with this latest saga. You can catch up with me online at https://jimnesbittbooks.com or https://www.facebook.com/edearlburchbooks. You can grab one of the Ed Earl books at https://www.amazon.com/author/jimnesbitt . Still hammering out my 2025 road trip schedule but hope to be at Murder In The Magic City, a two-day deal in Hoover and Wetumpka, Alabama in February; Killer Nashville in August and, fingers crossed, your gig, Creatures, Crime and Creativity, in September.