Gavin Reese's Blog, page 2
April 3, 2018
New Pre-Order!
My upcoming novel, The Misery Merchant, is available for pre-order on Amazon for only $.99, but only until it lands on April 30!
Sales of this book will specifically help support organizations that combat sex trafficking through prevention and education, rescue and rehabilitation, and long-term recovery and reintegration.
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A teenage girl has gone missing and Detective Alex Landon fears they're already too late to rescue her from unimaginable terror.
With the help and encouragement of her teachers and mentors, sixteen-year-old Princess Peralta has almost succeeded in redefining herself from "aspiring drop-out" to "college-bound honors student." When she's reported absent from Dry Creek High School without explanation, School Resource Officer Javier Ramirez knows something's wrong. After he learns no one's seen Princess for forty-eight hours, he immediately teams up with Detective Alex Landon to investigate. What they soon uncover leads them on a desperate interstate search to rescue Princess, who they're convinced has been kidnapped by one of the most dangerous human predators, a violent convicted sex trafficker.
Time is running out to save the girl's innocence, and maybe her very life. Landon and his team are forced to balance what they know, what they can prove in a court of law, and the dire consequences for everyone involved if they fail to reunite Princess with her family.
The experience of this investigation will haunt Alex Landon forever, and immediately alters the focus and trajectory of his law enforcement career.
Sales of this book will specifically help support organizations that combat sex trafficking through prevention and education, rescue and rehabilitation, and long-term recovery and reintegration.
--
A teenage girl has gone missing and Detective Alex Landon fears they're already too late to rescue her from unimaginable terror.
With the help and encouragement of her teachers and mentors, sixteen-year-old Princess Peralta has almost succeeded in redefining herself from "aspiring drop-out" to "college-bound honors student." When she's reported absent from Dry Creek High School without explanation, School Resource Officer Javier Ramirez knows something's wrong. After he learns no one's seen Princess for forty-eight hours, he immediately teams up with Detective Alex Landon to investigate. What they soon uncover leads them on a desperate interstate search to rescue Princess, who they're convinced has been kidnapped by one of the most dangerous human predators, a violent convicted sex trafficker.
Time is running out to save the girl's innocence, and maybe her very life. Landon and his team are forced to balance what they know, what they can prove in a court of law, and the dire consequences for everyone involved if they fail to reunite Princess with her family.
The experience of this investigation will haunt Alex Landon forever, and immediately alters the focus and trajectory of his law enforcement career.
January 20, 2018
Selam's Shame
Over the weekend, my wife and I watched the pilot episode of David Letterman's new show. She felt obviously compelled to talk me into it, and I sincerely had no real objections; I grew up watching, or more accurately, hearing Letterman's monologue echoing from my parents' bedroom whenever MASH wasn't on (quick tangent: the MASH theme song is "Suicide is Painless," great bedtime jam). The first and only guest was President Obama who, political differences aside, is still an interesting guy to me, and an undeniably influential figure in American history.
Letterman's interview took a number of unexpected paths, and ventured for a significant part of the show into Obama's relationship with John Lewis, and Representative Lewis' involvement with Dr King and the March on Selma. Letterman cut between clips of him with Obama in an capacity-crowd auditorium, with Lewis on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, and historical video clips from the first attempted march on March 7, 1965: Bloody Sunday.
I watched, for the first time since high school, a peaceful throng of citizens walking on the public sidewalk before a cadre of cops, Alabama State Troopers, as I understand it, attacked them without lawful authority, provocation, or legal purpose. They attacked the gathered crowd because they were black, and because they dared to dream, hope, and strive for a better and equal life owed them as citizens. As an American, I felt appalled and saddened. As a cop, I felt anger and shame I've rarely known. I am proud of my profession, of all but a handful of my colleagues, and I feel a genuine love affair with those who've sworn themselves to a life of service at great personnel risk to themselves. Not in that moment on the Edmund Pettus bridge, though. Fuck those guys.
I cannot deny racist cops exist, because that's an irrational argument. Cops are recruited from society, racism and prejudice exist in society, it MUST therefore exist in some part of us. While I will absolutely concede that point, I have never, NOT ONCE, seen racism, bias, or prejudice impact the way in which a cop interacted with the public. I felt disgusted to watch footage of a large group of assembled cops swarm unarmed and law-abiding citizens and treat them like poorly behaved chattel. I don't recall ever feeling angst that rich and palpable toward a group of cops I never met.
In that moment, I clearly understood and felt why the actions of those Alabama cops, those felons with badges, continues to taint the reputation and initial interaction I have with blacks and Southerners to this day. I've never been to Alabama, but I'm willing to give the present-day cops there the benefit of the doubt that they've changed. As I understand it, the subsequent 52 marches from Selma to Montgomery have never again been stopped, although I expect they're far more welcome today than on March 21, 1965.
Will human societies ever really overcome prejudices? I doubt it. I believe we're hardwired and programmed to instinctively find "us" versus "them" identity groups for survival. The groups will change, but their presence will likely never cease.
I offer you though, my opinion and my perspective. Even if we assume the majority of cops sympathized with those Alabama Troopers in 1965, I can assure you that cops have experienced the greatest reduction in racial bias and prejudice among us. In less than fifty years, to go from those felons in Selma, to the police force that I know and love today???? I've worked with cops of all major world religions, atheists, agnostics, both sexes, all races and multiple mixtures thereof. I've had numerous gay partners, several transgender colleagues, and the only thing anyone cared about was their character, their competence, and their proficiency. I've never heard a cop call for help from only the WASPs on shift.
I can't deny that somewhere, someplace, is an asshole cop who actually wants to primarily stop and arrest blacks. I can't deny his existence, but I've never met him and never heard anyone talk about ever having worked with him. Maybe things are just different here in the West, I dunno. From my perspective and experience, I don't see any evidence to substantiate painting us with that ugliest and broadest of brushes. I still resent the hell out of it, but I do at least understand it. Gonna be hard to move forward, though, if people choose to place me on that bridge in Selma, a place I've never been, committing crimes I loath.
Nothing I say will ever be convincing enough for some, no measure of my actions will ever be enough for others. I just hope folks realize how much I hate and despise the actions in Selma, and any cop willing to go along with it. We're still today working to get their tarnish off our badges.
Letterman's interview took a number of unexpected paths, and ventured for a significant part of the show into Obama's relationship with John Lewis, and Representative Lewis' involvement with Dr King and the March on Selma. Letterman cut between clips of him with Obama in an capacity-crowd auditorium, with Lewis on the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, and historical video clips from the first attempted march on March 7, 1965: Bloody Sunday.
I watched, for the first time since high school, a peaceful throng of citizens walking on the public sidewalk before a cadre of cops, Alabama State Troopers, as I understand it, attacked them without lawful authority, provocation, or legal purpose. They attacked the gathered crowd because they were black, and because they dared to dream, hope, and strive for a better and equal life owed them as citizens. As an American, I felt appalled and saddened. As a cop, I felt anger and shame I've rarely known. I am proud of my profession, of all but a handful of my colleagues, and I feel a genuine love affair with those who've sworn themselves to a life of service at great personnel risk to themselves. Not in that moment on the Edmund Pettus bridge, though. Fuck those guys.
I cannot deny racist cops exist, because that's an irrational argument. Cops are recruited from society, racism and prejudice exist in society, it MUST therefore exist in some part of us. While I will absolutely concede that point, I have never, NOT ONCE, seen racism, bias, or prejudice impact the way in which a cop interacted with the public. I felt disgusted to watch footage of a large group of assembled cops swarm unarmed and law-abiding citizens and treat them like poorly behaved chattel. I don't recall ever feeling angst that rich and palpable toward a group of cops I never met.
In that moment, I clearly understood and felt why the actions of those Alabama cops, those felons with badges, continues to taint the reputation and initial interaction I have with blacks and Southerners to this day. I've never been to Alabama, but I'm willing to give the present-day cops there the benefit of the doubt that they've changed. As I understand it, the subsequent 52 marches from Selma to Montgomery have never again been stopped, although I expect they're far more welcome today than on March 21, 1965.
Will human societies ever really overcome prejudices? I doubt it. I believe we're hardwired and programmed to instinctively find "us" versus "them" identity groups for survival. The groups will change, but their presence will likely never cease.
I offer you though, my opinion and my perspective. Even if we assume the majority of cops sympathized with those Alabama Troopers in 1965, I can assure you that cops have experienced the greatest reduction in racial bias and prejudice among us. In less than fifty years, to go from those felons in Selma, to the police force that I know and love today???? I've worked with cops of all major world religions, atheists, agnostics, both sexes, all races and multiple mixtures thereof. I've had numerous gay partners, several transgender colleagues, and the only thing anyone cared about was their character, their competence, and their proficiency. I've never heard a cop call for help from only the WASPs on shift.
I can't deny that somewhere, someplace, is an asshole cop who actually wants to primarily stop and arrest blacks. I can't deny his existence, but I've never met him and never heard anyone talk about ever having worked with him. Maybe things are just different here in the West, I dunno. From my perspective and experience, I don't see any evidence to substantiate painting us with that ugliest and broadest of brushes. I still resent the hell out of it, but I do at least understand it. Gonna be hard to move forward, though, if people choose to place me on that bridge in Selma, a place I've never been, committing crimes I loath.
Nothing I say will ever be convincing enough for some, no measure of my actions will ever be enough for others. I just hope folks realize how much I hate and despise the actions in Selma, and any cop willing to go along with it. We're still today working to get their tarnish off our badges.
November 20, 2017
Homage to the Original Enforcer
I'm found St. Michael's Cathedral near the Stephanplatz in Vienna's main district. As the patron saint of law enforcement, I try to visit St Michael's churches and cathedrals whenever I travel, and I'd certainly be remiss not to visit on this trip, which is specifically about the union of my cop work and my writing. Even though I grew up Protestant, St Michael is a romantic and ideological figure for me as a cop. Can you imagine being in that dude's shoes the day God tasked him with throwing Lucifer outta Heaven? Of all the angels, God chose him, and how does an angel tell God 'no?' he certainly had free will, so he had that option even if it came with consequence (see: 'Judas'). Despite whatever misgivings he had about his ability to succeed, he Cowboy'ed Up, took the fight to his colleague, who would soon become the Devil, and cast Lucifer right-the-fuck into Hell. I believe it must have been God's divine intent to use Lucifer's fallacies to create his own antithesis, but, in doing so, he gave Michael the job of creating Satan. Even if it were God's plan, Michael still had the dirty and dangerous job of seeing it through, at certain and tremendous risk to himself. Thus, out of respect for Michael and all the enforcers who've gone before me, I try to stop in and pay homage whenever I can.
The outside of St. Michael's in Vienna is pretty non-descript, save the snow white and gold sculpture atop its entrance depicting the moment Michael succeeded in driving Lucifer from Heaven. I didn't visually expect much on its interior. Given the grandeur of the surrounding structures, I expected the inside to be as relatively humble and utilitarian as its exterior. As soon as I passed through the double doors, the interior took my breath away. Unbelievable, and probably one of the most ornate places I've ever seen. Not like Notre Dame, Sistine Chapel, or St Peter's Basilica, where the walls seem to have been literally painted with gold, sapphire blue, and ruby red. No, there at St Michael's in Vienna, there are sculptures everywhere. All three back walls surrounding the altar are a floor-to-ceiling tribute to Lucifer's ousting, witnessed and attended by dozens of angels and God's divine light. The most surprising aspect, though, is an unusual sculpture on the stage right side of the altar, entitled "Stairway To Heaven." It's a staircase made of books ascending to the divine. I am definitely in the right place.
I took the inside seat of the last row, popped open my writing notebook, and dedicated about an hour to working out some details of the upcoming book, as well as taking all the notes necessary to share this experience with you. As I tried to focus on my work, I kept getting distracted by sporadic and unexpected crowd noise inside the cathedral. At first, it annoyed the shit out of me that folks couldn't be bothered to keep their voices, conversations, and stomping down to a dull roar inside a church. Then, the similarity of that experience to my work as cop struck me. I smirked at the realization of how much my day job resembled my efforts to write cop fiction inside St Michael's. I wanted to focus on one thing, get one thing done well, and innumerable, unforeseen distractions kept demanding my attention, kept pulling me away from the task at hand. I decided to allow it to add a measure of further authenticity to the writing rather than continue to be an annoying hindrance that quashed my productivity.
After I finished my intended work, I stopped into a small prayer room dedicated to Mary The Virgin, lit two candles for me and K, my best friend, and prayed for safe travel and safety while pursuing those who victimize God's children.
Even though this is Day Two of a ten-day adventure, this experience has already done more for my writing than I'd hoped. I genuinely appreciate you following my efforts, reading my work, and engaging with me as I work to continue to develop my characters and tell my stories. Thank you, and God Bless.
The outside of St. Michael's in Vienna is pretty non-descript, save the snow white and gold sculpture atop its entrance depicting the moment Michael succeeded in driving Lucifer from Heaven. I didn't visually expect much on its interior. Given the grandeur of the surrounding structures, I expected the inside to be as relatively humble and utilitarian as its exterior. As soon as I passed through the double doors, the interior took my breath away. Unbelievable, and probably one of the most ornate places I've ever seen. Not like Notre Dame, Sistine Chapel, or St Peter's Basilica, where the walls seem to have been literally painted with gold, sapphire blue, and ruby red. No, there at St Michael's in Vienna, there are sculptures everywhere. All three back walls surrounding the altar are a floor-to-ceiling tribute to Lucifer's ousting, witnessed and attended by dozens of angels and God's divine light. The most surprising aspect, though, is an unusual sculpture on the stage right side of the altar, entitled "Stairway To Heaven." It's a staircase made of books ascending to the divine. I am definitely in the right place.
I took the inside seat of the last row, popped open my writing notebook, and dedicated about an hour to working out some details of the upcoming book, as well as taking all the notes necessary to share this experience with you. As I tried to focus on my work, I kept getting distracted by sporadic and unexpected crowd noise inside the cathedral. At first, it annoyed the shit out of me that folks couldn't be bothered to keep their voices, conversations, and stomping down to a dull roar inside a church. Then, the similarity of that experience to my work as cop struck me. I smirked at the realization of how much my day job resembled my efforts to write cop fiction inside St Michael's. I wanted to focus on one thing, get one thing done well, and innumerable, unforeseen distractions kept demanding my attention, kept pulling me away from the task at hand. I decided to allow it to add a measure of further authenticity to the writing rather than continue to be an annoying hindrance that quashed my productivity.
After I finished my intended work, I stopped into a small prayer room dedicated to Mary The Virgin, lit two candles for me and K, my best friend, and prayed for safe travel and safety while pursuing those who victimize God's children.
Even though this is Day Two of a ten-day adventure, this experience has already done more for my writing than I'd hoped. I genuinely appreciate you following my efforts, reading my work, and engaging with me as I work to continue to develop my characters and tell my stories. Thank you, and God Bless.
September 23, 2017
My Blog
Rather than duplicating efforts and risking having you miss content, I suggest you follow my blogs on my website:
https://gavinreese.com/blog/
Thanks for following! I look forward to hearing from you.
Be safe out there!
*Gavin
_________________
A portion of all Gavin Reese Publications, LLC, sales is donated to charities that benefit law enforcement professionals and veterans, their families and heirs, and honor the memories of our Fallen Heroes.
https://gavinreese.com/blog/
Thanks for following! I look forward to hearing from you.
Be safe out there!
*Gavin
_________________
A portion of all Gavin Reese Publications, LLC, sales is donated to charities that benefit law enforcement professionals and veterans, their families and heirs, and honor the memories of our Fallen Heroes.
