The Write Stuff

  Many writers of fiction are pathologically insecure.  They are doubters, second-guessers, Monday-morning quarterbacks, and pessimists. Their literary glass is always half empty.  To survive, novelists must develop a thick skin. They take criticism badly, mostly because they are their own worst critics.  Thus, I am not a big fan of writers’ critique groups.  I had a particularly bad experience once. I found myself at the first meeting being lavishly praised by one participant and unmercifully shredded by another. I might have weathered that, but both had read the same book! One thought I had real talent. The other thought I had real nerve publishing such drivel. Neither offered suggestions. Just gushes or scorn. I left, never to return.  I believe that neither critique had merit, since neither person had written a book. They wanted to be novelists. A writers’ group of published authors might be more valuable. They are likely to be more circumspect in t...

No, this isn’t about my golf game. (For those that are interested, my handicap is now 26 and rising faster than ocean levels. Pretty soon, I’ll be getting strokes on the practice range!) I’m talking about fore shadowing, fore boding, fore telling and fore warning. I once saw an interview with Sidney Sheldon, who according to Wikipedia is “the king of the potboilers” and “the seventh-best-selling fiction writer of all time”. Sheldon, who didn’t start writing fiction until he was 50 and died at 90 in 2007, said that he started with an idea but never knew where his books were going. He added that he liked to write himself into corners, and then write himself out of them.  That’s basically how I do it and that’s where the “foreshadowing, foreboding, foretold and forewarning” come in, since I don’t want my readers to be lost, too. I use computer-writing software called Scrivener, which allows me to put chapters, research, ideas, scenes and odd thoughts (of which I have many) on el...

  I’ve written in the past about books I love and books in my personal library (which are often the same). But I don’t think I’ve penned a column about tomes I can’t live without. Now, because I’m moving, I must. I HAD an extensive collection. But moving a long distance can be quite expensive. (My last move was basically across the street. I took everything but the kitchen sink.) One of the first things people (on the internet, of course) tell you is to ditch books, which weigh a lot and take up space in the moving van. (An aside: I am a devoted digital self-publisher. I have more than 30 thrillers, mysteries, and anthologies on Amazon as e-books. But I am also a devoted reader of print books, and all of my novels have print versions on Amazon, and many are also available through Barnes & Noble.) I’m no Nazi. I can’t just throw away books. Even those I haven’t read in 30 years and have dust jackets that are, well, dusty. It’s not that I haven’t given away books in the past. The...

Some people have suggested that modern technology has made the traditional private eye – the dogged hero of so many wonderful novels and films – largely irrelevant. In this era of smart phones, the Internet, GPS and drones, how hard is it to nail your cheating spouse? Your next-door neighbor’s kid could probably get the goods for you. OK. You may not want the little snot to know your personal business, so you might hire a private detective (or, more likely, an “investigative service” with dozens of ex-cop operatives working on their fifth and sixth pensions). What used to take 50 pages in a thriller now takes a few strokes on a keyboard. Case closed. Here’s your bill. It’s unlikely that the electronic “detective” will uncover the obligatory murder or other mayhem that would fill out the other 150 pages. It’s hard to stumble over a dead body when looking at a computer screen.      Moreover, if there are any crimes, the super-sleuth police detectives working at the...

I am often asked if a novelist should inject his or her political leanings in a book. There is no easy answer other than to say nothing should stop the flow of a narrative.  Most readers are interested in murder and sex. It would be highly inappropriate for a couple locked in a steamy sexual encounter to stop what they are doing to reflect on the mid-term elections.   Sometimes an author has to give a character an unpalatable opinion, usually in a conversation. Such conversations define the character as a racist, a bigot, a chauvinist, a sexist pig, ax murderer, pederast, serial killer, or even a Red Sox fan.   But authors don't inhabit an ethical vacuum. My protagonists are basically moral people, who usually know right from wrong and are offended by injustice. When they offer an opinion, you can be pretty sure it’s one I hold. Interestingly enough, some of the villains in my books also have a moral code, and I like them to express it on occasion.  In fact, I t...

Here, in no particular order, are wells of inspiration that have “inspired” me. PERSONAL EXPERIENCE:  Yes, I know. Many authors, even those who write vampire novels, weave personal experiences into their work. Hopefully, not too personal, since there are laws against sucking blood from people, unless you work for the IRS. In my case, all my books are heavily grounded in my past as a police reporter, columnist, financial editor, corporate executive, director of a nonprofit, sex therapist, and various other personas—basically someone who couldn’t hold down a steady job. (I made the sex therapist thing up, by the way; just wanted to see if you’re paying attention.) TURNER CLASSIC MOVIES:  TCM runs a lot of black-and-white movies from the mid-1930s starring great actors with plots that somehow predate the use of LSD. I do not  steal  the plots, but they do send my mind racing. There was one film in which Fredric March or William Powell (it was early, and the coffee h...

This year marks  the 50th anniversary of “The Godfather”. There are plenty of “Godfather” reminiscences, but I think mine are unique. I was a reporter for the Staten Island Advance when director Francis Ford Coppola brought his crew to the borough's posh Emerson Hill neighborhoods to film several scenes of the movie. The location was at the dead end of Longfellow Avenue, and the film’s staging area — where equipment, costumes, and the like were stored at night — was about a mile away at what was then Staten Island Community College. I was very familiar with Longfellow Avenue because one of my pals, Ed Maloy, lived almost adjacent to the compound where “The Godfather” wedding scene was shot. The Maloy lawn was commandeered by the film crew for equipment brought up from the college. The family was heavily compensated for the length of the shoot, which I recall lasted a full week. Also, a year earlier, I had attended a real wedding reception in the “Godfather” house and compound when ...

I read a lot. Probably too much. It is keeping me from my household chores, like taking out the garbage. (Hmm, maybe I should read even more.) Magazine-wise, I get the New Yorker, People, the Week, Vanity Fair, Florida Sportsman (it has great pictures of fish I can’t seem to catch), Golf Digest (another magazine that highlights my inadequacies), and one or two others that I don’t recall ordering. I also get The New York Times , because I used to work there, and because in my ultra-conservative neighborhood in Florida I like to piss people off. (I must remember to tip the delivery guy at Christmas; my home must be his only local stop!) I also read books in print. Some suggestions: Where the Crawdads Sing  by Delia Owens;  The Splendid and the Vile  by Erik Larson; Black Smoke , by Adrian Miller (which has a great recipe for “Old Arthur’s Pork Belly Burnt Ends”; The Martian and Project Hail Mary , by Andy Weir. The last two, by Weir, are of course science-fic...

A young Marine P.F.C. on a Navy plane flying to Guantanamo in 1968 chatted with a fellow jarhead sitting next to him. They struck up a friendship, which continued at the base. Some months later, the Marine’s “new friend” was mysteriously shipped stateside well in advance of the normal one-year tour. Soon after that, the P.F.C. was sleeping in his top bunk when he smelled smoke and discovered that his mattress was on fire! The man in the bottom bunk had inserted a lit cigarette in the mattress above. It was a “fragging” incident without the grenade. Although possibly meant as a warning, the Marine couldn’t be sure, so he confronted the man with the cigarette and found out that the “new friend” he’d met on the plane was a Criminal Investigative Department agent, sent to Guantanamo to uncover drug use. The C.I.D. man had asked one too many questions and had been found out. He was quickly sent home for his own safety. Unfortunately, it was assumed that the young P.F.C. had helped in the C....

I’m about a third of the way through my latest thriller and have found it a harder slog than usual. It might have to do with spending so much time trying to procure a covid-19 vaccination. Here in Florida, the same people who run the unemployment website apparently run the pandemic website. I think the plan is to have everyone die of old age before they get a check or a shot. Luckily, I rarely suffer from writer’s block. In fact, my fevered brain is almost always coming up with new plots or ideas to fit into an existing one. Often, the ideas occur to me in the most awkward moments. I’ve found myself in the shower when an inspiration or a piece of dialogue hits me. I’m at that age where if I don’t get my thoughts down right away, I risk forgetting them. There have been occasions when I’ve left the shower dripping wet, wrapped myself in a towel, and raced to my den. If I’m lucky, I can sit at the computer and jot something down. If I’m not and I have to boot up the computer, I run the ri...

  Like most writers, I love good quotes. Don’t you? “I wish I had said that” is a refrain uttered — or thought — by most people. So, in the spirit of the seasons (Thanksgiving or Christmas, whichever comes first; this year, I’m confused), I will cite some of my favorites, offering attribution when available. Some of the quotes deal with writing and literature. Others are just funny. All come from a marvelous book,  1,911 Best Things Anybody Ever   Said  by Robert Byrne (not THE Robert Byrne). “Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance.” – Shakespeare “The chicken probably came before the egg, because it is hard to imagine God wanting to sit on an egg.” – Unknown “Thank you for sending me a copy of your book. I’ll waste no time reading it.” – Moses Hadad “He who hesitates is not only lost, but miles from the next exit.” – Unknown (Been there, done that!) “Your manuscript is both good and original, but the part that is good is not original and the p...

  When last we spoke, I recommended books to read for those who might be stuck at home during the pandemic. Since very little has changed, I’m going to recommend some more, once again plumbing my bookcase, which is full of books I read years ago and now, occasionally, re-read. Local libraries are reopening — or delivering — and, of course, there are other ways to get older tomes via the internet: Amazon, Barnes & Noble,  Bookshop , etc. I can’t swear that I haven’t mentioned these books in previous columns, so, if I have, shoot me an email. It would be nice to have some new correspondence. Give me something to do other than staring at my bookcase.    The Best of Robicheaux (The Author’s Choice)  by   James Lee Burke . Now, I don’t know if the great Burke actually chose  In the Electric Mist with Confederate Dead ,  Cadillac Jukebox , or  Sunset Limited  as his “best” Dave Robicheaux books. His publisher probably just put the antholog...

  It occurs to me that it has been a while since I wrote a column in which I recommended books to read. Since many people are presumably stuck at home, now is probably a good time. However, unlike many such lists, I will highlight books that may not be particularly current. Why? Well, mainly, because I am also stuck at home staring at my bookcase, and it’s full of books I read years ago. Some of those that I mention may be hard to find, but heck, that’s what Amazon is for, right? So, here goes, in no particular order:   FICTION   Footfall by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. This massive 1985 tome is probably my favorite science-fiction novel. The plot is believable. An alien race consisting of a species (whose members look a lot like pachyderms) attacks and then invades Earth. What makes this story so compelling is that the invaders have their own moral code (we see things from their perspective), and their weapons are not all that superior to ours. I won’t give ...

A couple of years ago, I  devoted a column  to the popularity of audiobooks. I recounted how some members of a golf group I occasionally joined were enthusiastic audiobook aficionados. I was asked why my books weren’t part of the “lucrative” audio market. I don’t see many of those golfers much anymore. I’m not the president; I don’t really play all that often. Besides, the pandemic shut down the course for a long while, and when it reopened, only walking was allowed. After 18 holes in the heat (and it’s been brutal), returning golfers look like they were at a casting call for “The Walking Dead . ” I walked only nine holes until golf carts were allowed back. You have to ride alone now, unless you’re with your wife (the rationale being, I suppose, that couples who golf together want to kill each other anyway.) But if I do run into those duffers, I can’t wait to tell them that I now have an audiobook in the works. To recap, there are three ways to create an audiobo...

Before I was rudely interrupted by a plague, I had promised to reveal whether some of the following actually happened to me and appeared in my fiction. To recap, in abbreviated form: The Poison Pen : A man is outraged because the poison-pen letter his wife receives doesn’t accuse him of fooling around (as other husbands on the block were) but instead criticizes his yard work. The Log that Wasn’t : A fisherman in Cuba almost steps on a huge barracuda he assumed was a floating log. Religious Experience : A full-service bar below a church sacristy was once a speakeasy and is now used for Rosary and Altar Society meetings. A Head for News : A young reporter with a hangover looks in the back seat of a car and sees the head of its decapitated driver. Well, all these instances happened to me, but only the first three made it into books. Of course, the last incident will eventually make it in, too! In case you are wondering, the Cuba incident occurred at Guantanamo Bay when I was ...

Wow. It’s amazing how events can overtake us. I promised in my last column to continue my “truth is stranger than fiction” ruminations, detailing scenes in some of my thrillers and asking you to guess which I imagined out of whole cloth, and which actually happened. Seems a bit of overkill now, with what’s going on pandemically. But, just to finish the thought: ALL the incidents I have already mentioned REALLY happened to me. I may have embellished them in my writing, but, hey, that’s my job. I also changed the names to protect the guilty (me). When things calm down, I hope to revisit the topic. The New York Times recently ran an interesting piece by an author who opined that this might not be the best time to start writing a virus-disaster novel. It’s fine to take notes, but perhaps we should let the dust settle to provide some perspective. However, in a similar light, don’t you find it weird that many novelists and screenwriters in the past have written about “unlikely...

I won’t belabor the controversy surrounding  American Dirt . I see both sides of the debate about whether an author who does not have personal experience of a culture can write about that culture. But if push comes to shove, I’d probably be more sympathetic with the argument that fiction writers can say whatever they want (and live with the criticism, of course). I certainly wouldn’t want to censor their books, because that smacks of book-burning fanaticism.  I’m often asked where I get my ideas for some of my bizarre plots and scene descriptions. Some of the folks who do the asking look askance at me, especially if I’m holding cutlery. So, what follows are brief synopses of scenes already in my thrillers and mysteries, or that will eventually make it into future books. Try to guess which actually happened to me, and which just popped out of my addled, martini-influenced brain. The Poison Pen : A man is concerned because his wife is one of the few women on the block...

In a  recent column , I addressed the black cloud that hovers over most writers: the fear of rejection. I pointed out that some of the world’s most famous — and eventually richest — authors (Jack London, Jack Kerouac, George Orwell, Sylvia Plath, Mario Puzo, and Alex Haley, to name a few) could have papered the Superdome with the letters they got from agents and publishers who told them they couldn’t write. I was, of course, talking about “traditional” publishing. Now, thanks to Amazon and others, anyone can publish a book, both in digital and print form. There are millions of such books out there. Many are self-published by people who went the traditional route and were rejected. One has to wonder if some of the authors mentioned above would be household names if they wrote today. I mean, suppose if a modern Jack London decided after, say, 300 of his total 600 rejections that he would self-publish  White Fang  on Amazon! A few self-published authors st...

In my last column , I dwelled on what most writers fear: Rejection. I used as examples some of the world’s most successful authors (Jack London, Jack Kerouac ,  George Orwell ,  Sylvia Plath , Mario Puzo , John le Carré , Alex Haley, Tony Hillerman, to name a few), whose work initially garnered more rejection letters than I get solicitations for credit cards. Which proves that publishers and banks are equally clueless! I have received a fair amount of such letters, but rejection is not my biggest bugaboo. Truth is. Yes, truth. I suspect that many fiction writers incorporate real-life experiences in their work. I know I do. I have experienced many of the things that happen to my characters. For example, in my novel Sound of Blood , one of my characters recalls how, as a young fisherman in Cuba, he once almost stepped on a huge barracuda, thinking it was a log jutting out from the shore. That actually happened to me on a break from the Guantanamo Ba...