Writing Violence
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Author's Note
New Releases (That I'm Excited About)!
Two Writers You Should Read
Events
It's Contest Time!
Other Writing
Writing Violence
In some ways, I don't know how to write violence.
Well, let me rephrase that. I think I write violence well. Whether its subtle or overt or celebratory, that's one of the elements in my writing I have confidence in. It's the reason, initially, I realized my strength was probably crime fiction, and not in literary or general fiction. The moments that defined my earlier attempts at novels were the chapter-ending moments of violence, whether that violence was shown on the page or simply indicated.
But I'm often at odds with the best way to portray it. Like a good American boy, I grew up with an affection toward violence, romanticizing murder in its heroic forms, studying martial arts and watching professional wrestling and cheering at bloodless depictions of killing in movies.
And then I grew older and, like most Americans, violence found me, directly and indirectly. Every day when my kid goes to school, I fight the fear that the next school shooter will open his classroom door. I worry about my wife when she has to go somewhere, and it's at night and she's alone. I think about the way violence haunts us, the way we stare down at it, as if we're standing ankle-deep in the ocean, feeling the pull of the undertow.
And so I often feel - and I don't think this feeling is uncommon amongst those in this country - like we're in the midst of a war. That the refuge and safety we find are mere moments, foxholes in a midnight battlefield that offer temporary reprieve, but the enemy is quickly, quietly, approaching.
This is, of course, how we're trained, and it's hard not to feel this way. The BREAKING NEWS approach to life isn't designed for comfort, yet it's constant. The fear from politicians and cable news and social media is designed for attention and money, but there is a murderous undertone to our society (I've written about my experiences, and my family's experiences, with violence, before in an essay in Unloaded: Volume Two).
Make no mistake, there are people who have witnessed FAR WORSE than I have. I've talked to those people, and marveled at their strength, even as if I feared ever encountering the kind of experiences where such strength is necessary.
And maybe because I don't know how to adjust to or understand this climate, I'm unclear on how to portray it.
I want the heroes to win, I enjoy the uplifting fights in Marvel or Spielberg. I can recognize that there is, in fact, necessary violence in life. I teach my son to fight because I know that, regardless of how good a man he becomes, he very well may have to defend himself. And, as heartbreaking as it was, I knew the importance of the lesson he was taught when, after an afternoon at daycare, he told me they'd learned where to hide in case "the bad men come."
And then I write, and then I wonder, in my fiction, if the violence is too much. My body count generally isn't high, and I absolutely never want to be gratuitous, but I do worry whether it's satisfying to the reader. Does someone want to read a book that reminds them of the horrors of murder? Or do they want an escape, even within the confines of crime fiction? Probably the latter, and sometimes I desperately wish I could give that.
And I wonder why I can't present the sanitized view of violence I genuinely admire in entertainment.
Writing this essay, maybe I've come across the answer.
I think, for me, it's because it feels dishonest. This isn't to say it's always dishonest - just for me, personally. I think I've been guided by the dictum written by my early literary hero, James Baldwin, and whatever I write will forever be influenced by his words
I love America more than any other country in the world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually. I think all theories are suspect, that the finest principles may have to be modified, or may even be pulverized by the demands of life, and that one must find, therefore, one's own moral center and move through the world hoping that this center will guide one aright. I consider that I have many responsibilities, but none greater than this: to last, as Hemingway says, and get my work done.
I want to be an honest man and a good writer.
Yes, we're shaped by trauma, but we're also shaped by love, and I think I need to remember that.
EA
I'm really excited to have a story in this collection of stories, based off titles of Paul Simon songs! These music-themed anthologies have been popular in recent years, and celebrated short story writer Josh Pachter has done a fantastic job of spearheading many of these projects. I'll write more about this next month, but make sure you check out the anthology HERE or on the graphic below!
After the trauma of his last case, and after three months spent recovering in Ireland, life is looking up for newly retired homicide detective Brian (Brick) Kavanagh. Back home in Washington, D.C., a new job shows promise when he’s asked to train criminology students in cold case techniques.
Then he’s off to a whirlwind weekend in Chicago with Nora, an Aer Lingus flight attendant he’d met in Ireland. There he receives shocking news that his former partner’s wife and twin infants have been kidnapped. Brick rushes to D.C. to support Ron, the man who’s always had his back—but as days pass, Brick questions how well he really knows this man.
Brick’s cold case—the unsolved hit-and-run death of a college student—is heating up. Brick finds gaping holes in the original investigation. Is it possible diplomatic immunity granted someone a “get-out-of-jail-free card”?
Meanwhile, Ron’s family tragedy unfolds in a most bizarre manner, and the escalating cold case points to D.C. corruption at the highest level. Things are getting complicated . . . very complicated . . . and dangerous.
When sisters Cat and Ginny travel with their husbands to the idyllic Swiss Alps for a hiking holiday, it’s not just a chance to take in the stunning scenery. It’s an opportunity to reconnect with each other after years of drifting apart―and patch up marriages that are straining at the seams.
As they head into the mountains, morale is high, but as the terrain turns treacherous, cracks in the relationships start to show. With worrying signs that someone might be following them, the sun begins to set and exhaustion kicks in. Suddenly, lost high on a terrifying ridge, tensions spill over―with disastrous consequences.
When only two of the four hikers make it down from the mountain, the police press them for their story―but soon become suspicious when their accounts just don’t add up.
What really happened up on that ridge? Who are the survivors? And what secrets are they trying to hide?
My daughter is gone. She’s been taken. I grip the phone so hard I think it might break, and try to focus on what they’re saying. I realise I’m not crying, even though I feel like I’ve been split in two. And then they say a name that makes my blood run cold…
Suddenly, my past and present collide. My heart pounds in my chest, memories flooding my head. I have to focus on my daughter, Nelle, but I can’t escape the panicked questions rushing in. How do they know about Betty? And what else do they know?
I picture Nelle’s beautiful green eyes and freckled cheeks, knowing that I have a choice to make. Just how far am I willing to go to protect my beloved family—and my secrets?
They give me an address in a tiny lake town upstate. I know another mother, a better mother, would call the police, but in seconds I’m driving as fast as I can away from my perfect white house with its perfect green lawn and the whole perfect life I’ve built since I last heard that name, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.
I’m terrified I’ll never see Nelle again. But I’ve been hiding behind my lies for twenty years. If the truth finally comes out, will my daughter ever forgive me? I don’t know. But I have to save her first to find out.
Fall festivities are underway in Coral Shores, Miami. Cuban-American cooking show star Miriam Quiñones-Smith wakes up to find a corpse in her front yard. The body by the fake tombstone is the woman that was kicked out of the school's Fall Festival the day before.
Miriam's luck does not improve. Her passive-aggressive mother-in-law puts her in charge of the Women's Club annual gala. But this year, it's not canapes and waltzes. Miriam and her girlfriends-squad opt for fun and flavor. They want to spice it up with Caribbean food trucks and a calypso band. While making plans at the country club, they hear a volatile argument between the new head chef and the club's manager. Not long after, the chef swan dives to his death at the bottom of the grand staircase.
Was it an accident? Or was it Beverly, the sous chef, who is furious after being passed over for the job? Or maybe it was his ex-girlfriend, Anastasia?
Add two possible poisonings to the mix and Miriam is worried the food truck fun is going to be a major crash. As the clock ticks down and the body count goes up, Miriam's life is put in jeopardy. Will she connect the dots or die in the deep freeze?
Laid-off journalist Lana Lewis is thriving as the proprietor of Perkatory, a coffee shop on quirky Devil’s Beach island, Florida. She’s juggling a relationship with police chief Noah Garcia, enjoying the company of her best friend, Erica, and relishing the companionship of her golden Shih Tzu, Stanley. Only problem is her neighbor, Gus, who incessantly uses his leaf blower, disturbing everyone in the neighborhood. Lana has learned to tune it out, but Erica’s rage boils over and she confronts Gus.
Then Gus is found dead, killed when his leaf blower explodes. Erica immediately becomes suspect number one. But there are plenty of other candidates as well: Gus’s soon-to-be ex-wife, Honey Bailey, who thinks she’ll be written out of his will; Mickey Dotson and Doug Beck, who were scalded financially after purchasing a pirate-themed tourist cruise business from Gus; and plenty of angry neighbors who’ve had run-ins with him.
As the clock ticks down will Lana get someone to spill the beans on the killer so she can clear her friend’s name, or will Erica go to jail for a crime she didn’t commit?
It’s all come down to this. The past, the present, and the conclusion of man who’s chosen to end so many colliding for the final time.
From an unimaginable start within the pages of A Better Kind of Hate to a bitter, bloody end throughout All of Them To Burn, Bishop Rider remains what he’s always been. What a certain type of predator forced him to become. His life and struggle not only a journey of choice driven by necessity, but one decades in the making.
There will be carnage. There will be blood. But through it all, a sliver of hope. And perhaps, if he’s lucky, a chance at brighter days.
Time to go to work.
It’s the summer of 1964 and three innocent men are brutally murdered for trying to help Black Mississippians secure the right to vote. Against this backdrop, twenty-one year old Violet Richards finds herself in more trouble than she’s ever been in her life. Suffering a brutal attack of her own, she kills the man responsible. But with the color of Violet’s skin, there is no way she can escape Jim Crow justice in Jackson, Mississippi. Before anyone can find the body or finger her as the killer, she decides to run. With the help of her white beau, Violet escapes. But desperation and fear leads her to hide out in the small rural town of Chillicothe, Georgia, unaware that danger may be closer than she thinks.
Back in Jackson, Marigold, Violet’s older sister, has dreams of attending law school. Working for the Mississippi Summer Project, she has been trying to use her smarts to further the cause of the Black vote. But Marigold is in a different kind of trouble: she’s pregnant and unmarried. After news of the murder brings the police to her door, Marigold sees no choice but to flee Jackson too. She heads North seeking the promise of a better life and no more segregation. But has she made a terrible choice that threatens her life and that of her unborn child?
Two sisters on the run—one from the law, the other from social shame. What they don’t realize is that there’s a man hot on their trail. This man has his own brand of dark secrets and a disturbing motive for finding the sisters that is unknown to everyone but him . . .
A nice thing about nice writers? You meet other nice writers. It's very nice. So when Jennifer Hillier introduced me to Matt Farrell at ThrillerFest a few years ago, I was very much in the mindset of "any friend of Jenny's..." It was the right instinct to follow. In addition to being a wonderful thriller author, Matt's a great person and a valued, selfless member of the writing community. Although I don't like his how swath of tattoos makes my tiny hidden tattoos feel extra poser'ish, but I've come to accept that.
And a writer Matt Farrell recommends?
My recommendation would be Stacy Willingham and her novel A FLICKER IN THE DARK. Every once in a while I read a book that literally takes my breath away. A Flicker in the Dark is such a book. Stacy’s writing is exquisite, the story itself is phenomenal, and her characters and living, breathing people. I’m so excited to recommend this book to anyone who will listen to me. She pulls you into Chloe’s world and doesn’t let you go until the last page. I can’t wait for her next novel. I’ll be first in line.
To learn more about these authors, click on the photos above.
Okay, look, November's kinda quiet...
I have no events going on in November, which is fine because I think I'll be fairly busy between January and March promoting No Home for Killers (publishing February 1st!). But this is fun! I sent out a bunch of swag packs to bookstagrammers promoting the thriller, and I included a paper mask depicting the canvas mask that the vigilante in the novel wears. It's been really cool to see how bookstagrammers use it in their posts. Follow me on IG here to check out their work!
It's contest time! The monthly contest winner wins copies of the books listed in my "Two Writers You Should Read" segment. And the winner is...
pr___116@hotmail.com
Congrats, and keep your eye out for a separate e-mail from me!
Okay, no upcoming events and I didn't write anything new this past month. I KNOW. I'll get on the ball.
Until next time, much love and happy reading!