Springsteen, Crime Writer
By Tom Schreck, author of "Out Cold, A Duffy Dombrowski Mystery"


(Note the Elvis Pin...)


It was the part of town where when you hit a red light you don’t stop.

Johnny 99

The screen door slams. Mary’s dress waves.

Thunder Road

Screen door hangin’ off its hinges kept bangin’ me awake all night.

Ain’t nobody can give anybody what they really need anyway

Dry Lightning

They say you gotta stay hungry. Well, I’m just about starving tonight.

Dancing in the Dark

You end up like a dog that’s been kicked too much.

Born in the USA

It’s a town full of losers. I’m pulling out of here to win.

All the redemption I can offer is beneath this dirty hood.
Thunder Road

Sweatin’ out on the street of this runaway American dream…

Born to Run

Great writing doesn’t come over the course of 100,000 word manuscript, it comes word by word and phrase by phrase. To me, when he’s at his best, no one is better than Bruce Springsteen.

I’m not a huge fan of his last 15 or 20 years but through the late eighties his phrasing, economy of words and expression resonated with me.

Take his use of “Screen door.” What does a screen door conjur? Usually, a low income house and a working class culture. If it bangs off the wall it tells us it’s old, wasn’t installed properly or it’s worn out. A screen door banging sets a total scene economically.

How about “All the redemption I can offer is beneath this dirty hood”? “Redemption” and “hood” don’t seem to go together which makes it perfect. For an 18 year-old high school graduate, the promise of something more comes on four wheels. And “Pulling out of here to win” is something you have the opportunity to do.

“It was the part of town where when you hit a red light you don’t stop.” Do you need anything else to describe that setting? I don’t. I picture an intersection in my home town. The corner one block up from Henry Johnson and Clinton appears in my mind every time.

In the nineties Springsteen wrote “It’s a funny world when you find yourself pretending and you’re a rich in a poor man’s shirt” in the song “Better Days.” And maybe for me this is where he stopped connecting with me. The lyrics became more psuedo-spiritual to me and the causes overblown. The “Rising” album which was supposed to heal all of us after the WTC tragedy fell flat with me.

I wanted to be back on the porch, in the car or at that troubled intersection. The day to day nuances of life connect like good noir fiction. The other stuff is probably great for those who relate to it. It’s just isn’t me.

In the meantime, I’m gonna try to stay hungry while I sweat out on the street of my own American dream.

Come join my daily blog at http://www.tomschreck.com

Posted by Tom Schreck  |  Mar 10, 2010 7:55 am  |  3 Comments

Thinking it Through

I was in the beauty parlor, attempting to get beautified (or at least get a trim), when an elderly customer came in and plopped down for her weekly wash and set. “Michelle,” she said to her stylist, “When are you due, honey?”

My own stylist froze. I froze too. Oh, mercy!

Michelle said stiffly to her client, “Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Talmedge?”

“I mean the baby,” bellowed the older lady as she blundered on. “When is your baby due?”

My stylist was now busily brushing my hair and I was pretending not to listen in.

“I’m not having a baby, Mrs. Talmedge. Do I look like I am?”

The lady waved her hands around, finally aware of her error. “Of course not! No! Of course not. Erm—what a pretty dress you have on…”

I wasn’t there long enough to see if Mrs. Talmedge walked out of the salon with a Mohawk.

The whole problem happened when the lady jumped to conclusions and didn’t think things through before she spoke.

Which got me thinking—sometimes I plow ahead when I’m writing and don’t think things through, either.

And I end up in just about as much hot water. Well…except I don’t have to worry about revenge being enacted on my coiffure.

When I don’t think things through while writing:

The character acts out of character. If I’d listened carefully enough, I could have heard my protagonist yelling, “Nooooo! I wouldn’t ever do that!”

My storyline starts sounding a little pat. I haven’t dreamed up any curveballs to throw at the plot. Asking “what if?” helps a lot.

I write myself into plotholes I can see China through. (“Oh wait! No, Judy couldn’t have been Max’s killer! She was already dead by then, herself!”)

Although I’m a big fan of not overthinking the first draft (and I’m not an outliner), if I take special care to notice when these three, bad things are happening, I save myself a lot of grief during revisions.

How much time do you spend thinking it through before you put it on paper?

Posted by Elizabeth Spann Craig/Riley Adams  |  Mar 09, 2010 12:02 am  |  24 Comments

Strangers (Reading) on a Train

A thought hit me the other day, as I was balancing all the promoting and writing and blogging and tweeting activities that have completely taken over my waking hours.

Soon, strangers will be reading my book. Strangers who have paid their hard earned money to buy it and devoted their precious time to read it.

Strangers, as in people I don't know at all. (I'm not including those in the world of publishing--it's their job to read manuscripts. I'm talking about "regular" strangers.)

Of course, on some level, that's been my goal since I started writing. To get published and develop a readership beyond my family and small circle of friends. But I guess I never realized how weird that would feel. My words, my ideas, my stories being read--and judged, on some level--by people I don't know and won't ever meet. They won't have any history with me to color their opinions. No filtering lens of my personality to gaze through.

These strangers won't know, for instance, that I exercise and try to eat right when they read about my characters scarfing Pop-Tarts for breakfast. They won't know how honest I am when they read about my deceitful characters and their underhanded exploits.

All they will know about me is what they infer from my writing. I'll be judged solely on the words before them. Weird.

The next logical question is: what will these strangers think?

On one hand, I could say that I write my stories for me. But, being honest (and pragmatic), I'd also have to say I write for my readers-to-be. I want them to be entertained. I want them to be moved by my words.

I want readers to enjoy my writing.

(Side note: I've already gotten a little feedback. I've been fortunate that DIAMONDS FOR THE DEAD has received a couple reviews, from Publishers Weekly and Library Journal. And I guess I've been doubly fortunate that both reviews have been complimentary.)

In a few weeks, I'll start to get more feedback from strangers.

I sure hope they like my book.

 

Alan

Posted by Alan Orloff  |  Mar 08, 2010 6:00 am  |  9 Comments

Death and the Poison Pen
by G.M. Malliet

The subject of mean-spirited reader emails was discussed here recently, along with Amazon "reviews" that barely reach the level of incoherent hissy fit. Coincidentally, a well-known writer just blogged about receiving a nasty email from a reader, and making the mistake of replying, of engaging—just what the emailer may have been hoping for. The exchange got weirder and weirderer, and the author ended up posting the exchange on her blog--but two years later. It bugged her off and on for two years.

In truth I haven’t read the exchange, amusing as it may be, because I am sure it is also utterly depressing to see the contents of the mind of someone who would flail away at an author in this fashion. Even hugely successful authors have feelings. (This happens to be a nice author, too, but that has nothing to do with it. It is a shame to harass someone who is really just trying to make a living writing books, which is akin to opening a lemonade stand hoping to make a killing.)

It got me to thinking, though. Is there anyone out there who would be/could be mean about a long-established master of the mystery genre? An absolute genius? Could they possibly diss my all-time hero, Agatha Christie?

Sure they could! The world is full of all kinds of people, including people who don’t love everything about Dame Agatha.

Here are some reader comments from Amazon.com about some of her books. I have chosen these books more or less at random (they happen to all be set in Devon), but they are acknowledged classics, every single one.

And yet: All these readers gave Agatha one or two stars. When you realize they are talking about the great, the immortal Agatha, you could just weep:

* The ABC Murders: “While the book is not badly constructed and is amusing, it is definitely uninspired.”

* Five Little Pigs: “Though I do not know Agatha Christie's work, but by judging from this book I would think that she was not such a good writer.”

* And Then There Were None: “This book was my first foray into Christie, and will almost certainly be my last.” [NB: This is probably Agatha's best-selling book ever.]

* Evil Under the Sun: “I think that Christie has several novels where the deadline was shortly approaching, or she had just run out of ideas. That's certainly acceptable, but don't bother with a less-than mediocre book!”

* Peril at End House: [Poirot] was excessively demeaning and cruel to Hastings throughout the novel, to such an unreasonable extent that I was mentally urging Hastings to tell Poirot where he could shove his mustaches, and get the heck out of there. [Is this like telling him to put his head up—oh, never mind.]

* The Body in the Library: “….be prepared for a complete disappointment when a potentially great book fails.”

See what I mean? Don’t you feel better knowing how arbitrary this whole “You have a computer, so you too can be a reviewer” thing is?

Posted by G.M. Malliet  |  Mar 05, 2010 3:13 am  |  20 Comments

I Take to the Water...

by Felicia Donovan

I grew up on the shores of Long Island. My grandfather, a Naval Captain, practically raised my father on boats. As children, we were exposed to lots of water experiences - fishing on my Dad's boat, building sand castles near the shore, surfing on our makeshift surf boards or just swimming in the chilly Atlantic. The time we spent together as a family on or near the water are some of my most cherished childhood memories.

Now that I'm all grown up, I still find myself at the beach as often as possible, but the chilly New England winters make beach-going a very trying experience. I've done it many times, but the wind sucks the air out of your lungs and no layers can keep warmth in.

I had been sorely missing my water connection until a few weeks ago when I joined a fitness center with an indoor pool. It is the single-most best investment I've ever made. Though the pool fills up with young families on the weekend, it is often completely empty the odd times I go. The pool is kept warm enough to let my muscles gently warm up as I begin my laps. After doing "Penance" for a while, I stop and play - diving, spinning, bobbing up and down and generally frolicking about - just as I did as a child.

As I glide through the water unencumbered, uninhibited, my imagination surfaces. I am, once again, Jacques Cousteau about to discover the sunken treasure ship laden with gold buried at the bottom of the ocean for hundreds of years. I am a World Explorer setting off by sea for foreign lands. I am a dolphin trainer holding onto a fin as I am gently pulled along. I am gleeful, joyous, free...

What does the water bring to you?

Posted by Felicia Donovan  |  Mar 04, 2010 6:48 am  |  9 Comments