Les Edgerton's Blog, page 34

Literary Sex...

Hi folks,
Got a bit of a treat for you today. My good friend and colleague, author Carl Brush has written an essay on “Literary Sex” which I thought you’d find interesting. Carl and I have been friends for many years and since he lives in Oakland, CA, he’s my source for everything S.F. Giants. Whenever they win the World Series… like twice in the last three years (hear that, Dodger fans?), he sends my son Mike and I all the newspaper accounts and pictures. Thanks, Carl!


Here’s Carl’s thoughts on sex on the page…
LITERARY SEX—A GUIDE TO THE PROMISED LANDByCarl Brush
So your characters are in love, or at least lust, and you’ve brought them to thatpoint. What’s next? Maybe a stream of moans and groans and slurps and visions of bodies contorted into circusy gyrations? Or how about the tender embrace followed by the gently-lowered curtain with violins in the background? Or will it be something in between? Pun intended.
Part of the answer depends on your story’s genre. If it’s erotica, you probably need to go for the liquid gold. However, I’m neither the audience nor the writer to talk to about that. I have no moral objection, and I have read some erotica with interesting characters/plots. It’s just that when I get to the carnality parts, I find myself skating on by to find out what happens next in the tale. I’m much more interested in how to make the lovemaking scenes, both exciting in themselves and part of the overall development of action and character. 
You don’t have to go far to find a couple of superb examples. Les Edgerton’s ThePerfect Crime contains one of the most erotic scenes I’ve ever read, yet there’s nary a salacious detail. Our intrepid hero and his lady are on a stakeout in an apartment so empty it’s bereft of furniture or carpeting, and they’re directly above the apartment of their quarry.  A single sound will reveal their presence, leading to serious injury or death, as well as the foiling of their mission. Yet, their brand-new relationship is heating up and is on the brink of the big it. Thus, their decision to yield to their impulses is not only in character, not only crucial to the plot, but is triply erotic because of their need for absolute silence during the act. Mine is a second-hand description, and the experience is in reading Les’s masterful writing, but I trust I’ve made my point about the merging of the lovemaking with character, action, and story.
Staying with Les for a moment, let’s turn to Just Like That , in which the narrator undergoes a male-on-male rape. This time, Les gives us pretty much every in and out and back and forth of the physical event. However, the way he writes it, the main focus is still not the sex so much as the razor that’s poised at Jake’s neck during it. In terms of both action and character, the dramatic tension for the reader comes from wondering if Jake can or will fight back. So action, character, sex all at once, not separate elements.
Of course, both the examples I’ve given are from what the critics might call “gritty” crime novels, and one might assume it’s easier to accomplish such intertwining there than in lighter fare. Well, let me introduce you to a couple of historical thrillers and demonstrate that it ain’t necessarily so.
My “Vendetta Duo,” the recently released The Maxwell Vendetta and its sequel The Second Vendetta take place in 1908-10 San Francisco and the nearby Sierra Nevada mountains amid more “proper” surroundings than Les’s settings. Nevertheless, the course of young love cannot be denied, and I didn’t find it necessary to deprive readers of a share in the proceedings by doing a fadeout when the going got hot and heavy. 
Andy’s been pursuing Virginia for a long time, and the reader (I hope) is wishing he’d just forge past her obviously insincere denials. Finally, in her artist’s studio, the time seems right. His jealousy aroused by the drawing of a nude male model tacked to her wall, Andy strips and assumes poses such as the David, then invites her to follow suit. She’s tempted, but demurs, giggling about his circumcision (unusual for the times) and his awkward positions. He’s made a bit of a fool of himself and is still a long way from home plate with Virginia. End of scene. Failure? Not so. Delay. And we know how tantalizing that can be. Andy’s clumsy efforts prove endearing and, in the end, effective. Consummation follows not long after. I don’t provide more graphic description, though. After all, we’ve already seen the goods, so we can vicariously join the proceedings while Andy gets his romantic groove on. Thus, action, character, sex. All at once. With a bit of the comical thrown in for good measure—always welcome and sadly missing from novels these days, I think.
There are other sex scenes in the Vendettas, scenes I intend to arouse the reader without much play-by-play but still juicy. I guess I prefer my literary sex to be more like a Japanese

About Carl Brush
Carl Brush has been writing since he could write, which is quite a long time now. He grew up and lives in Northern California, close to the roots of the people and action of his historical thrillers, the recently-released The Maxwell Vendetta, and its sequel, The Second Vendetta. A third volume of the trilogy, set in pre-gold-rush San Francisco is nearing completion. Its working title: Bonita.You can find Carl living with his wife in Oakland, California, where he enjoys the blessings of nearby children and grandchildren.Journals in which his work has appeared include The Summerset Review, Right Hand Pointing, Blazevox, Storyglossia, Feathertale, and The Kiss Machine. He has participated in the Napa Valley Writers’ Conference, the Squaw Valley Community of Writers, the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, and the Tin House Writers’ Workshop.

Hope you enjoyed Carl’s essay! Get his books—just first-rate writing and storytelling!
Blue skies,Les

HUGE RECOMMEND FOR RICHARD GODWIN'S "ONE LOST SUMMER"

Hi Folks,

When I was asked to provide a blurb for Richard Godwin’s new novel, ONE LOST SUMMER, I gladly agreed. I’m a huge fan of his work and looked forward to another great read. Well, I’ve finished it and. I know now that whatever I say about this brilliant novel will be less than it deserves.
This is without a doubt one of the best novels I’ve read in a long, long time. All the while I was turning the pages, it didn’t feel like I was reading but more akin to a physical sensation, like floating on water. And… a particular, unique body of water. I felt myself buoyed up and borne along as in a small raft, floating on an azure sea, not a cloud in the cobalt-blue, brittle ether above me, helpless and alone. For one of the few times in my life, I understand what the term “fictive dream” meant.
This is the perfect example of a “Jungian novel.” It’s a work of the shadow world that inhabits the deepest recess of the human mind and psyche. I’m not going to talk here about the plot. Yes, there is a plot but this is more than a plot and a character and stuff going on. This is a dream and you don’t read it; you experience it the same as you do when you find yourself in a dream and know you’re in a dream, but just as it is when you’re in a fugue state,  helpless and being carried along to where you don’t know until Godwin deposits you there. It’s frightening to be under control like you are by the author, and, at the same time, exhilarating, as the thought first creeps into your mind and then firmly asserts itself, that you are in the presence of greatness and you feel almost unworthy of being there. This is a work of mad genius. And, make no mistake, you are in the presence of true literature.
Godwin has given us a clear and prescient look inside the mind of a madman and how that madness begins and blossoms and how the madman finally gains complete control of his insanity. This is T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” delivered in a contemporary play. Pay attention to the names of the characters and the locales as they provide the keys to understanding this novel. This novel is a paean to the “lost generation” and should, but won’t, become the anthem for these souls. Most scholars admit to not knowing exactly what Eliot had in mind when he wrote his poem, but I think Godwin has come closer than anyone.
This is a novel I will read again and again, but I confess I plan to wait at least six months between each reading as I won’t be able to work for awhile after reading it. It will discourage me too much as I know I’ll fear I can’t begin to approach its magnificence as a writer and that is paralyzing.
Kudos to Godwin—he has achieved a masterpiece!



From the promo:Rex Allen loves star quality in women. He moves into a new house in a heat wave with few possessions apart from two photographs of his dead daughter. His next door neighbour, beautiful Evangeline Glass invites him to one of her many summer parties, where he meets her friends and possessive husband Harry. Rex feels he knows Evangeline intimately. He starts to spy on her and becomes convinced she is someone other than who she pretends to be. When he discovers she has a lover, he blackmails her into playing a game of identity that ends in disaster.

Hope you glom onto a copy!
Blue skies,Les

THE RAPIST COMING OUT IN GERMAN WITH PULPMASTER

Hi folks,
Got some cool news to pass on.
First, Jon Bassoff, my publisher for THE RAPIST with his New Pulp Press, has just sold the German language rights for it to Pulpmaster! He tells me it looks favorable that they may also buy the German edition of THE BITCH when he (re)publishes that novel in August.
This is my first-ever foreign rights sale for any of my books and I’m on that proverbial Cloud 9! What’s really cool about this is that my late friend Cort McMeel and I often talked about the German intellectual atmosphere (and Europe in general) and how Germany was the first to publish Charles Bukowski when he couldn’t get published in the U.S. And, how John Martin was the first U.S. publisher to get Bukowski into print here with the press he founded just to publish him—Black Sparrow Press.. We talked often about how we felt Jon Bassoff was our nomination for the John Martin of contemporary publishing, with the books he was publishing.
Years ago, my advisor, Dr. Francois Camoin, at Vermont College when I was pursuing my MFA, was the first to read THE RAPIST, and he told me at the time that he thought I would find it difficult to get it published in this country and that he thought it fit the European sensibility and sophistication in letters and philosophy much better. He advised me to seek out a publisher in Europe (his preference was for a French publisher). The thing is, at that time (1996) there were very few, if any, publishers with the cojones of a Jon Bassoff at the time or it might have been published much sooner.
It’s entirely due to Jon and the reputation his press enjoys that having it published by Pulpmaster is possible. Thanks, Jon!

For those of you who enjoy fiction that goes outside the PC boundaries of “safe” writing, check out the list at New Pulp Press. The folks he publishes are the reason I submitted to him. I read every single one of his books and there wasn’t a single one that wasn’t flat-out brilliant and amazing. Not one!

THE RAPIST is also being considered by an Italian press and is currently being read by a top Italian national reviewer.
Also, my agent, Chip MacGregor just informed me that THE RAPIST was a Kindle Daily Deal recently. I’m not sure what that means, but Chip tells me it’s a good thing.
Other news…
One of my long-time writing clients, Hollywood attorney Bob Rotstein, has just had the legal thriller I had the pleasure of working with him on—CORRUPT PRACTICES-- published this month by Seventh Street Books, an imprint of Prometheus Books. It’s garnering terrific reviews and has been blurbed by such well-known writers as Sue Grafton and Les Staniford (who encouraged Bob to write a book in the first place.) I had the pleasure of coaching him during the writing of it for the past couple of years. He just called me to ask me to take a look at his next book and I can’t wait!
This is a fantastic book. If you like legal thrillers and psychological novels, this one's for you!



And…
A classmate of mine at Vermont College just published his first novel and it's coming out with a big splash. Check out Charlie Lovett’s THE BOOKMAN’S TALE from Viking/Penguin. We had a small class of about a dozen and every single one of us has made some noise in publishing. Charlie’s book looks like it’s going to make some very serious noise! Check it out.


It’s been an exciting week! And yet, after everything that’s happened, I just looked into the mirror… and I’M STILL UGLY!


Life isn’t totally fair…
Blue skies,Les

THE REAL LOWDOWN ON WRITING CONFERENCES

WRITING CONFERENCES
            Many billions of years ago, when mankind (men, who were kindhearted and a couple of women) first began to write, there were very few places to learn the craft. This was during the periods we know today as the Palaeolithic Age, the Mesolithic Age, the Neolithic Age, the first Roosevelt administration, Obama’s last term, and the Age of Aquarius.            There were only a couple of women writers because they had to go to work to support their writer-husbands. There was virtually no money in those days for cave-drawing-writers. Certainly no medical plans!            Mostly, there didn’t exist places to learn how to write… primarily because we didn’t have words in those days. (Or four-star hotels to host conventions) Writing was a form where we used pictures, carved on cave walls. We had words, but just a few. Maybe a dozen. Words like “ugh” and “booty” and “dinosaur” (English translation—the original word in cave-man language was “big ol’ dog.”) and “self-aggrandizement.” And these few words only existed in oral form. There was no actual “writing” as we know it today, because we didn’t even know such things that we consider basic today, like dangling participles and adverbs. We didn’t even have dictionaries! We were poor, Jack!            Things were tough then for writers. Not only didn’t we have dictionaries, we had to walk to school ten miles each way… through six-foot snow drifts!            No, wait. That was something else. That was my childhood.            The point is, we’ve come a long way, baby!            Today, we have words and a modern phenomenon we call “sentences.” We have dictionaries and even thesauruses (or is that thesauri?). We have COMPUTERS! We have all these things and we even have schools and other avenues to learn our craft. By schools, I mean MFA schools. Where, when I went, you had to walk ten miles each way… through six-foot high snowdrifts!            Some things never change.            Today, as we all know, there are secrets to becoming a bestselling author. And, it’s become ridiculously easy to acquire these secrets, when, once learned, one can quit that bullshit day job at MULTIPLEX CORP and just travel around to bookstores and sign mounds and mounds of our novels and eat at Elaine’s where we can wave across the room to Woody Allen who is a GENIUS. (Like us.)            We have craft books and better: we have BLOGS which are electronic places we can access easily and learn from incredibly good-looking, incredibly smart, amazingly well-hung writers such as MYSELF, all of those secrets.            We also have events these days called WRITER’S CONFERENCES. These are the best places to learn those secrets that lead to bestsellerdom. Why? Well, because the bestselling authors themselves ARE THERE IN PERSON and guess what? They are ALL DRUNK and HANGING OUT IN THE BAR. Where, all you have to do is buy them a Jack and water and they will share these vital secrets with you! They are all more than happy to do so. They are happy to do anything if you only buy them a JACK AND WATER, including random sex acts usually only seen in Juarez, Mexico! Unless, of course, you want to glom onto the secrets of a romance writer. Then, you need to buy them a drink which has an umbrella in it. But, if your ambition is to write gritty, crime and noir novels, then you need to stick to those manly guys drinking JACK AND WATER. And, romance writers aren’t in the bar anyway. They’re all up in their hotel rooms with other romance writers DOING RESEARCH in their vibrating hotel beds. (Nobody knows where the sci-fi writers are. Best guesses suggest either men’s bathrooms or hanging with the hotel janitor.)            What do you suppose Og, back there in his cave, chiseling out his romance novel of his tryst with Moggy on the cave wall would have given to be able to attend a writer’s conference? A LOT, that’s how much! If only for the vibrating hotel beds. Also, to get away from his wife Zelda, who has just found out about Moggy…            And the umbrella drinks.            For those of you who have yet to attend a writing conference and are frothing at the mouth to get to one, I’m going to let you in on how they work so that you can maximize your time while there and get a whole bunch of writing secrets that will… you guessed it… catapualt you into the ranks of BESTSELLERDOM! This is all inside stuff, so pay attention. Plus, it’s guaranteed to get you on the list and be interviewed by Grit Magazine and the NY Times! Your reviews will consist of original, truly descriptive words like “riveting” and “page-turner” and “brilliant” and “short.” (Well, the last only if you’re Tom Cruise and have just penned an autobiography.)            First of all, you should probably attend one of the panels. One is plenty. They’re all pretty much the same and while the organizers seem to put a lot of emphasis on their websites and in their glossy brochures on the panels they’re offering from BRAND-NAME AUTHORS (a clever synonym for BESTSELLING AUTHORS), like they say about Paree: “When you’ve been with one hooker, you’ve been with them all.” No, wait! That’s something else. I meant to say: “When you’ve been to Paree it’s hard to go back to the farm and concentrate on the corn crop.” NO! That’s not it, either! Dang it. I forget what the saying is, but the gist of this is that one panel is all you need to attend. Trust me on this.            What will the panel be about? It will be some guys and gals sitting at a table in front (get there early and grab a seat up front as there will always be at least one guy who is considered a SERIOUS WRITER who talks really softly and forgets he or she has a microphone so you’ll want to be close enough to hear him/her when they begin to impart their secrets. It will be the best secret of all, but the bad news is that you’ll only be able to make out about every third word as the rest will be drowned out by thunderous applause whenever his mouth opens or he tugs at a pesky nose hair.            No matter what the topic has been labeled, it will always end up being about ADVERBS and why REALLY SMART WRITERS never use them. Well, hardly ever… Scarcely ever, anyway. Occasionally, at best.            This will be the only thing you’ll learn from the panel.            Even if the publicized title of the panel is:DISTINGUISHED PULITZER PRIZE WINNERS TALK ABOUT HOW CREEPING EXISTENTIALISM AND THE NATIONAL GROSS PRODUCT FIGURES OF 1997 ARE IMPACTING THE LITERARY TABLEAU AS EVIDENCED BY THE SCHOLARLY JOTTINGS OF “FIFTY SHADES OF CRAP” AND OTHER POST-MODERN CLASSICS… WITH LOTS OF QUOTES FROM HAROLD BLOOM(Hint: If you don’t know who Harold Bloom is, you’re in the wrong room. This is why you’re the only one here, Boobie.)            …even if the publicized title is the above, that part will only take about 43 seconds and the rest of the panel will be devoted to… you guessed it! ADVERBS. Also, some stuff on what we laughingly call “Writers’ Bumper Stickers of Wisdom.” You’ve probably seen some of these around town on Government Motors (GM) trucks driven by short, redneck guys who look a lot like TOM CRUISE but with fewer teeth. These stickers will be composed of pithy, but true, nuggets of writerly wisdom like: “Show, Don’t Tell.” This means (in literary language) if you find yourself pregnant by a BRAND NAME AUTHOR, don’t tell on him, or you can kiss goodbye his highly-desired blurb on your tome that is guaranteed to sell a bazillion copies of your opus to people who only buy because Frephen Fing (Not his real name—I’m protecting his true identity, out of respect.) or Frichal Fordan has said it was a “riveting, page-turning, brilliant read… and it’s short.” You’ll be showing, soon enough. No need to tell.            It’s always a sound idea to visit the bar before attending the panel and, if the organizers of the event were smart enough to hold it in a civilized city like NEW ORLEANS where they have GO-CUPS, take one with you to the panel. If, unluckily it’s in a place like CLEVELAND, go early to the bar and drink two more than you normally would. Ideally, you’ll drink enough that you’ll pass out for the entire length of the panel, but even if not, you’ll be able to get through it by realizing:YOU’RE IN FREAKIN’ CLEVELAND!            How the hell did that happen? Wallowing in the misery that comes with knowing you’re spending perfectly good money to spend a rainy, sleety, windy, COLD-ASS weekend in the MISTAKE BY THE LAKE (clever and revealing Chamber of Commerce proclamation that’s plastered all over their brochures), the panel won’t suck as much as might have in a really cool place such as… NEW ORLEANS! Where you probably won’t bother with panels at all but do the smart thing and just hang out in the hotel bar the entire time. Or any bar.             Okay. You got through the panel and can breathe a sigh of relief that that’s over and you can tell your wife when you return home that you learned “a ton of stuff at this panel I went to. They covered adverbs pretty thoroughly and the REALLY SERIOUS WRITER GUY said something really profound. As soon as I can find my notes I'll tell you what he said.” It also means you can write it off on your taxes.            You might be asking yourself why do obscenely-rich, incredibly handsome, extremely well-hung BRAND NAME AUTHORS (such as myself) deign to even sit on these panels and yak about ADVERBS.            Good question! It shows… you aren’t drunk enough yet if you’re thinking this logically. Go ahead. Grab yourself a JACK AND WATER. I'll wait. It'll help you get through the rest of this. Make it a double--you'll thank me later.            The answer is that although we’re all OBSCENELY-RICH BEYOND ANYONE’S WILDEST DREAMS, it isn’t through the royalties on our BESTSELLING BOOKS. The truth is, we don’t make squat on those. Are you kidding? It all looks great to the outsider, but the truth is, as they say about almost everything, stranger than fiction. Here’s the truth about royalties.            Let’s say the book sold a million copies. That’s a lot, right? Well, the joke’s on you if you think the author himself made very much.            First of all, there are other hands in this pie. (If you think these metaphors and similes or whatever they are crap, don’t forget I’m a BESTSELLING AUTHOR and can do this all day long and you can’t do a thing about it so just shut up and lie down by your dish.)            To begin with, the publisher keeps 85% of all the money. Yep. Thas’ right. I didn’t stutter. The writer gets to keep 15%. Only he doesn’t.            His agent takes 15% off the top. This is to pay him or her back for taking your phone call when you inform him you just sold your book to an editor you just met at the BAR IN CLEVELAND. He’ll also do some other valuable work on your behalf when he looks over the contract which basically sells you into servitude for the rest of your natural life, plus ten years and says, “Yep. Looks good. Sign on that line on the last page where your full name is printed out above.”            Money well spent!            Then, the publicist takes 20%. What, you say? The publicist? What if I don’t want no friggin’ publicist? Well, go ahead and don’t have one, but how do you suppose your book sold a million copies without one? The answer is, there are only 16 people in the world who have Oprah’s private phone number and can get you booked onto her show which is the only way you CAN SELL A MILLION FRICKIN’ COPIES OF YOUR STUPID BOOK, btw. And, of those 16 people, 15 ½ are publicists. (The other one is TOM CRUISE, which is why he gets a half.) So, you need a publicist. Wake up and smell the pillow, moron! (Smells like drool, doesn’t it?) The other half goes to CHER who hasn't written a book (has she?) but definitely has  a PUBLICIST and her publicist has Oprah on speed dial in case she has another kid like the one in that movie. Go CHER!            Then, your agent has presented you with a great idea. To get the bestseller deal going, he suggests you take a portion of your royalties (say, 65%) and sneak into various bookstores in various disguises… and buy up copies of your own book!            It’s a brilliant idea and you glom onto it instantly! Why? Well, the guy giving you this advice is obviously a GENIUS—after all, he just scammed 15% of your money just by answering the phone, so he’s already shown you he’s no dummy.            All over your geographical area, stores are calling into Barnes & Noble regional centers (Barnes & Noble because they’re the only bookstore left) to report that sales of your opus are “flying off the shelves!” (Bookstore owners use cliches like this all the time because they mostly read bestsellers and that’s where all the clichés are.) Barnes & Noble speaks regularly to the NY Times and Oprah (they meet at Elaine’s at the table just behind WOODY ALLEN’S), and when presented with the news that your opus is flying off the shelves (this is just a highly original way of saying they’re selling a lot and the cashiers are calling in sick with an outbreak of carpal tunnel syndrome from punching cash register keys), they say to themselves, “Hey! This is a bestseller! Let’s get it on the list! Let’s book this guy on the show.” (The NY Times says the bestseller thing and Oprah says the show thing. After which, the waiter brings them all a round of mimosas and they toast each other for their acumen. The B&N person is the last one to leave and she gets the bill. Which is added to your expenses…) Meanwhile, you'll have to start parking your car and snow-blower in the driveway as your garage will be full of books...            There are other folks who get a piece of your pie. The publisher will want a photograph of you for the back cover, which you’ll pay for. Your wife’s Kodak moment taken at Disneyland when you rode the Small Cups Ride won’t work. They’ll laugh hysterically when you try to foist that one off on them. No, they’ll have to send out a New York photographer, because everyone knows New York photographers are the only people who know which end to look through and where the little button is to click on a camera.            Except, it’s not that simple. (You saw this coming, didn’t you…) It never is. It turns out that the New York photographer is TOO GOOD! Your photograph looks… EXACTLY LIKE YOU! That will never do. This is against tradition. The author’s photograph should be of him (or her, if the author is a woman), but it has to be of him or her from thirty years ago and nearly unrecognizable. That’s why when you went to the panel, you couldn’t recognize any of the BRAND NAME PANELISTS. None of them look like their photos. This is why. The photos were all taken at a time when they were younger and dumber and full of… (sorry, I forgot this was a family venue).            Who wants to see an old geezer on a book jacket? NO ONE. That’s why they’re always photos taken just when the author was mustering out of the service just after WWII, still wearing his bomber jacket and looking jaunty (writer’s word that means… I don’t know what it means. It means jaunty. Some kind of peppy look, I think. With a crinkly smile.)            This means that the publisher will then request one of your wife’s Kodak moments, taken just before you were married that June day in 1954 and still had most of your teeth. They’ll want the one taken just before you were married, where you still knew how to smile. WITH ALL OF YOUR TEETH--THE FRONT ONES, ANYWAY. Those so-called "smile teeth." Unless you're a crime or noir writer. Then, you should never smile in public and never for a photograph! Are you nuts?            You’ll learn that another massive charge has been marked against your account. They had to Photoshop the picture (they’ll charge you for the price of the Photoshop program, btw. You didn’t think those paid for themselves, did you!). You’ll also note in the itemized charges a fee for the guy who manipulated the Photoshop program to make it look “current.” Which means making the Tiny Cups Ride disappear and changing the sepia tones to color. This is done by a guy in the basement (who writes sci-fi novels when he isn't working the Photoshop machine).            You’ll be amazed at the skill this guy has brought to the table! Instead of that old snapshot you remembered, where you threw up seconds after it was shot and where to your trained eye you can already detect the glassiness in your stare—now you’re looking at a photo of your old, long-gone self…  STARING OUT TO SEA WITH A SOULFUL, DEEP EXPRESSION, DIGGING YOUR TOES INTO THE SAND. Suitable for a People Magazine cover of… TOM CRUISE. In fact, it looks like almost all photos of TOM CRUISE IN PEOPLE MAGAZINE, except the guy in the picture (you) isn’t short. That’s because it’s shot from ground level, the so-called “power shot.”            Anyway, I won’t bore you (further) with how your royalties all disappear, but will make a long story short (I know, I know… it’s too late!), by saying the reason BESTSELLING AUTHORS and BRAND NAMES do these conventions and sit on panels discussing ADVERBS and why you shouldn’t use them even if they do and are BESTSELLING AUTHORS in spite of the terrible obstacle which adverbs pose, is because it’s the only way they can make any money. And, the whole reason they’re there (besides the fabulous sums the organizers throw at them), is because there’s always A BAR on the premises.            Which is where they’ll be when they’re not on their panels.            This is the end of our discussion today on WRITER’S CONVENTIONS. Why? Because all this talk about bars has made me thirsty and I crave me a JACK AND WATER.            We’ll pick this up again (when I feel like it), and talk some about writer’s conventions GROUPIES and how to successfully stalk a BRAND NAME AUTHOR.Until then… happy writing!            Before I leave you, let me leave you with one valuable piece of advice. If you find yourself at a writer’s convention, and you spot BRAND NAME LEE CHILD, under no circumstance should you approach him and say the name, "TOM CRUISE." Mr. Child is a big guy (contrary to what his name would lead you to believe) and trained in some of the more popular martial arts. Just sayin’…
Blue skies,LesThis message was brought to you by the publisher of THE RAPIST. Please buy a bunch of copies so that Les can join the ranks of the BRAND NAME AUTHORS! Remember: Christmas is just around the corner and what better gift could Granny ever wake up to than a copy of THE RAPIST in her stocking? (The one on the mantelpiece, not the one she’s wearing…)

HARD TRUTHS: Interviews of crime writers by Tony Black

Hi folks,
 Disclaimer: Please be advised there is some strong language and adult situations in the material below.
One of the top crime writers in the world, Tony Black, has just published a book of interviews, HARD TRUTHS, with other crime/noir writers... and I'm in it! It's a very humbling honor to be included with the august list of writers Tony has assembled here. This ranks as one of the two best interview experiences I've ever had, along with the one Richard Godwin did for his "Chin Wags at the Slaughterhouse" which is due to appear in the next print version of Grift Magazine.


U.S. readers just click on the cover to go to the Amazon site. UK and European readers can go HERE.

From the promo copy:
Hard Truths is an 85,000-word collection of interviews with the crime genre's most accomplished writers.

As both an award-winning journalist and one of the most acclaimed crime writers of recent times Tony Black is uniquely placed to cross-examine crime fiction's bestselling authors. Names like Ian Rankin, Irvine Welsh, Andrew Vachss, Les Edgerton and William McIlvanney reveal the secrets of their craft in a series of interviews conducted over the last five years.

Black takes an often no-holds-barred approach and pushes friendships to the limit as he teases out the truth on subjects as diverse as politics, the writing life, popular culture and personal histories. Always entertaining and often heartfelt these exchanges offer an entertaining, humorous and eclectic look at some of the genre's leading lights.

"For anyone at all interested in crime writers and crime writing - hell, for anyone even vaguely interested in writing and stories - this is an indispensable collection, full of insight and revelation."
- from the foreword by Doug Johnstone, author of Gone AgainThe Interviewees:

Ian Rankin
Stuart MacBride
Ken Bruen
Irvine Welsh
Caro Ramsay
Andrew Vachss
Stephen Leather
Cathi Unsworth
R.J. Ellory
Simon Kernick
William McIlvanney
Allan Guthrie
Les Edgerton
Paul Sayer
Martyn Waites
Howard Linskey
Shona MacLean
Nick Stone
Ian Hamilton
Bob Mayer
Declan Burke
Ray Banks
Russel McLean
Barry Graham
Craig McDonald
Nick Barlay
Charles Ardai
Excerpt from our interview:
LES EDGERTON has done a lot of living. If there's a book in most people, there's a library in Les. In his time — Les is now 70 — he seems to have done it all. By it all I mean he's travelled the gamut from east to west, north to south, lost to found . . .
You can count the bends in the road. A string of wives. Drug dealing. Life on the street. A burglary rap. The inevitable time inside.
As he recounts the trials and tribulations of a life that might make Neal Cassady's head spin it's as if it all happened to one of his characters. Les remains resolutely Les throughout: an erudite, witty, well-read road warrior with an eye for the absurdities of life.
Whilst other writers might rage against the publishing machine, he's wise enough to see the ignoble hands on the levers. He's had his successes — he is undoubtedly a quite outstandingly talented writer and perhaps deserving of more plaudits — but he gives the impression that just having a hand in the publishing game is worthy of mocking derision.
Les is all about the writing, the integrity . . . and that's a commodity worth bottling in these days of near drought.
Tony Black: I've done quite a few of these interviews now, Les, and I have to say this is the first where I don't know where to start —to say you've led a colourful life is a bit of an understatement . . . Let's start at the start, then. You've said 'dysfunctional families germinate writers' —discuss . . .
Les Edgerton: I think if you talk to just about any writer worthy of the name, you'll find they came from a dysfunctional family. It's a background that just germinates writers. Think about it — if you grew up in a happy family, you wouldn't have anything to write about and you'd probably end up selling insurance. Fiction is about one thing only — trouble — and if you've never had much trouble in your life, you won't have anything to write about or probably even understand what trouble is.I was at a writer's thing one time where Mary Karr (The Liar's Club) was appearing and she made the statement that all writers come from a dysfunctional background. All of us writer-types standing around nodded sagely at this precept and then someone asked if she could define a dysfunctional family. Karr laughed and said, 'That's easy. A dysfunctional family is any family with more than one member.'
Tolstoy said it the best in Anna Karenina with the line: 'Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.'
My own family was fucked up in just about every way they could have been. My mother was a religious fanatic — 'fanatic' isn't a strong enough word for what she was and is — and my father was basically a brute who abused me in just about every way you can imagine. My father didn't spank me. He whipped me with various objects, including a live kingsnake, and usually would taunt me to fist fight him and when I got bigger would do the same saying that if I ever whipped him, he'd just go get a two-by-four and take care of me like that. Nice guy . . . My mother did her part in the abuse department, mostly emotionally and mentally.
Two years ago, at the age of sixty-eight, I discovered the man I had been told was my father all my life wasn't. To compound the injury, my mother named me after him — I'm a frickin' junior! — and to this day won't tell me who my real father is. However, she claims God has forgiven her. I guess lying to your son for all of his life doesn't require forgiveness in her mind . . .
There's plenty of material in Les Edgerton's experience; can we take a few highlights — or lowlights — and talk about them? Let's start with your time working as a gigolo 'servicing older women' . . .
I don't know if I'd term it as being a 'gigolo'. Well, maybe it was. What happened was one of those strokes of luck. I had one of my girlfriends, Cat, stab another girlfriend, Rachele, and almost kill her and try to nail me as well. I got the knife away from her and took Rachele to the emergency room. When I was waiting there, Rachele's mom showed up with this guy and told me that if Rachele died, I would too and the guy with her would be the one to render me room temperature. Turns out, she was connected and that's exactly what this guy would have done. Well, it's what he would have tried to do — I wasn't exactly helpless. Anyway, Rachele pulled through and we began to date heavier, which was tricky as she couldn't move much or she'd pull her stitches out. Anyway, she and her mother both worked for a guy who was kind of a criminal kingpin. He had a cottage industry where he hired older women like Rachele's mom to make these fishing lures in their home a la piece work, and to grease the deals with the national buyers of stores like K-Mart, he gave the buyers lots of coke and weed. He also had a regular drug business and used people like Rachele when they were under the age of 18 to transport his drugs from Houston to New Orleans. If they got busted, since they were underage they'd just get probation and he'd never use them again. Rachele was over 18 but had never been caught, so she was still working for him.
Well, after she got out of the hospital, I started going with her to Houston and that was an experience. We'd go to this Quonset hut warehouse with tons and tons of weed piled high and all of these illegal aliens moving pallets of weed around with forklifts. Quite a sight. Anyway, the guy who Rachele and her mother worked for and me got to be friends and he had another sideline business — an escort service where young studly dudes like myself went out with older, wealthy women. I'd made several stag movies years ago when I was 18 and living in Bermuda and he found out about that and asked me to work for the escort business.
It forces you to learn to be creative in the sack . . . My favourite client was the heir to the famous Pontchartrain Hotel — she was in her eighties and actually still fairly good-looking. She took me to Puerta Vallarta with her and her girlfriend. She rented the villa that used to belong to Richard Burton and Liz Taylor and it was a really fun week!
That's a book right there, Les . . .
I think you're right. And, I have one . . .
We talked a bit about my newest book, THE RAPIST, and how I came to write it.
 
For the entire interview and lots of other interviews by writers better known than me, glom onto a copy!
Blue skies,Les
P.S. A bit of news. My agent was recently successful in getting back the rights to my novel, THE BITCH, and it's currently on the desk of a publisher I hope chooses to publish it. I won't go into the reasons we pulled it from the original publisher--not important--but will just say I'm delighted to be able to go forward with a new press. If and when we place it and it becomes available again, I'll announce it here and by yelling out of my window. What's sad, though, is that I had a bunch of really cool reviews posted on it on Amazon and those are gone! When it comes out again, if anyone reading this had posted a review and still has it, I'd really appreciate it if you'd repost it. Thanks!

BR STATEHAM HAS A NEW ONE AND IT'S TERRIFIC!

Hi folks,

My good friend, author B.R. Stateham has just come out with his latest novel in the Turner and Frank series.

 My buddy, B.R. Stateham. My question to him is: Where do you find someone old enough to remember how to cut a flat-top? I mean, besides me?






Here's the skinny on BR's newest:

Turner Hahn and Frank Morales Are Back

Homicide detectives Turner Hahn and Frank Morales are back on duty in their new novel, Guilt of Innocence.

The two are investigating a couple of murders which pushes them to the limits of their wits. One case involves the death of a very successful corporate lawyer. A high priced corporate lawyer who happens to be married to a woman who heads the largest cosmetics firm in the country. How the murder took place is perplexing enough. But as more bodies begin to drop Turner and Frank soon realize they are facing a maniacal mastermind who may very well be smarter than both of them combined.

Twists and turns, dead ends and red herrings . . . with an ending that will truly be surprising. This case has it all. And this is only case number one!

Case number two involves the disappearance of a young girl fifteen years earlier. A Cold Case File. Except it is not a cold case any longer. The girl has returned. And now lies on a cold metal table in the morgue. Someone has gone out of their way to make the homicide look like a suicide. Apparently a crime syndicate is frantic to make sure neither Turner nor Frank find out the facts surrounding the girl's disappearance fifteen years earlier. A hit man is in town grimly eliminating everyone who may have known the girl. A hit man with orders to possibly rub out Turner and Frank as well.

And again the real killer is someone whom no one would have ever suspected.

Turner and Frank are at their best. Dry wit, interesting characters, lots of action, vivid imagery, and two genuine classic mysteries. All of it can be found in Guilt of Innocence. Find it anywhere ebooks are sold.

B.R. Stateham is a sixty-four-year old curmudgeon who writes genre fiction. (What makes him a curmudgeon is wandering all over town trying to find someone who can cut a flat-top...) With an antiquarian's body yet with the mind of a fourteen-year-old boy, the author's imagination still wanders down dark alleys and mean streets looking for a dangerous rendezvous (or an old, old barber...) or dons a Federation uniform and straps on his waist a 20 megawatt laser blaster to go out and hunt Martian grave robbers.

These are great reads! Hope you folks check this one and the others in this series out.

Blue skies,Les
P.S. Gotta give a shout-out to another good friend, Richard Godwin, who just gave an interview to the BBC for his forthcoming brilliant novel, ONE LOST SUMMER, which I'll be reviewing here the day it comes out. Check it out HERE.

SALE ON MY YA THRILLER, MIRROR, MIRROR FOR 99 cents.

Hi folks,

Just wanted to let people know that my Young Adult thriller, MIRROR, MIRROR is on sale for a limited time for 99 cents.




I wrote this initially as a present for then pre-teen daughter, Britney, and years later thought it might be publishable when she told me that she couldn't look into a mirror for more than a few seconds for a few years after reading it. It's kind of a different YA than many today--no sex, no vampires, no zombies...

Me and Britney... when both of us were a few years younger...



Blue skies,
Les

MAEGAN BEAUMONT'S BOOK LAUNCH IN ARIZONA

Hi folks,
Well, I’ve had a few days to recuperate from my two recent trips, the one to Boise and the last one to Scottsdale, Arizona.
I love Arizona! Especially when I get to see my best friend, Tom Rough, and our star writer and great friend, Maegan Beaumont. Maegan was the reason I got to go to Scottsdale. Her first novel, CARVED IN DARKNESS, has just been released and her official book launch took place at the famous Poisoned Pen Bookstore.  And, her husband Joe flew me out there to surprise her and the others in our online class who were going to be there, and that’s why I had to keep it secret where I was going.
 
Only problem is, it turns out it’s impossible for Joe to keep a secret from Maegan! She got it out of him fairly quickly, but we were all able to keep it a secret from our online writing class members, many of whom made it to the bookstore for her talk and signing. Among them were Mary Edelson who came all the way from Virginia and Holly Love who flew in from Denver.
Maegan enjoyed a SRO crowd. She shared the podium with two other writers, but she was clearly the star of the show. In fact, when their talk was over, and the three writers sat down to sign their books, her line was the entire length of the store. I felt kind of sorry for the other two writers who had to sit there and watch her sign book after book! I’ve been in that situation and it’s not fun!
 Maegan giving her talk at the Poisoned Pen Bookstore launch of Carved in Darkness
 Maegan signing books with two other writers
Maegan looking... "goofy"...
Artist's depiction of Maegan's parents having her sign her book for them... KIDDING! They're very, very proud of her.

Joe and Maegan. Thank you so much for flying me out to Arizona, Joe!

This is from my earlier visit, but I wanted to show a couple more of our class who were also at Maegan's signing but whose photos I didn't get then. Pictured above are Kristen (who was there, Carson (who couldn't make it), me, Susanna (she was there), Maegan and Linda (who were both there.


We had a great visit! After the signing, we went to a party hosted by Maegan’s best friend—who I kept calling “Val” after the best friend of her protagonist in Carved, who, as it turns out, was modeled after her real best friend whose name I forgot… Val is what she’ll forever be known to me as. Really cool party. A bunch of Maegan’s family came up from New Mexico and I got to meet her mom and dad. Also got to meet Maegan and Joe’s kids, who were really cool kids. I especially was excited to meet her daughter Jaime and Jaime was the first person to read my YA MIRROR,MIRROR  and gave it a rave review on Amazon.
Jaime Beaumont--you rock!


The next day a bunch of us hung out all day. First, we had lunch at the restaurant where the Arizona writers in our online writing class meet once a month to cuss me out and then we went to a resort hotel where Mary and Holly were staying and just hung out by the pool and had… adult beverages. Just kicked back and bonded over… you guessed it… adult beverages…
L to R: Holly, Linda, me, Mary and Maegan. Joe took the photo.


Stayed with my best bud, Tom Rough  and his gorgeous wife Lisa and equally gorgeous daughter Nicola, and had a BALL! I love Tom and his family. They’re coming to Indiana the first of the month for Tom’s grandfather’s 99th birthday and I can’t wait to see them again.
Lisa, Nicola and Tom Rough--Tom's my bestest friend. I had two best friends--Tom and Cort McMeel and sadly, Cort's not with us any longer.


On my last day in town, Mother’s Day, I went to lunch with Tom and his family and got to meet his parents and it became clear why Tom is such a cool guy. Both his mom and dad are just fantastic people and I’m so glad I got to meet and to know them.
And, then, finally, I climbed aboard the red-eye back home and landed back in Ft. Wayne early Monday morning.
We’ve got several members of our writing group who’ve either just finished their novels or are about to so I hope I can get to go again to each of their booksignings.
I’m glad to be back home—I really missed my “eye-candy” Mary, but give me a week or two to rest up and I’ll be raring to go again!
Eye Candy... My fantastic wife Mary who stayed home to work while I partied...


Blue skies,Les

BOOK DEVIL REVIEW OF THE RAPIST

From Book Devil on Tumblr:

I doubt the term “philosophical crime novel” is something writers that write about crime writers sling about much, but the phrase is definitely and defiantly apropos of Les Edgerton’s THE RAPIST. The book is most assuredly a crime novel and so readers shouldn’t be frightened away by a description that makes it sound dangerously like a tome and frighteningly unlike a book, say, a highly readable but mightily singular piece of crime fiction. While THE RAPIST belongs on the shelf next to Dostoyevsky and the like, it also sits snugly and comfortably besides the gritty, bleak likes of Jim Thompson. Take some Thompson, a generous cupful, mix it with the brutal, barren cynicism of Jerzy Kosinski, then run it through a filter of Camus, finishing with a big chunk of Nietzsche’s attitude. Yeah, it’s got “existentialist” written all over it and flirts dangerously with the blurry line betwixt sociopathology and the mind of the ubermensch. Again, I’m scaring you. This is a lean crime novel, vastly more readable than the cumbersome Dostoyevsky. It’s all told directly to you from the central and, with fleeting exceptions, the only character, the rapist himself. The reader gets an unsettling time spent inside the head of a sociopath. It’s a heady experience. While the prose does at times try too hard to be proper and arrogant, THE RAPIST is a cunningly written piece of brain-shock prose. There’s even twist at the end, but it’s unlike any twist you’ve ever encountered in a strictly traditional crime novel. That I can promise you. That, and a terrific read.
142 pp.
www.newpulppress.com
Thanks!
Blue skies,Les

IDAHO WRITERS AND READERS RENDEZVOUS--Had a great time--wish you were there!

Hi folks,
Well, I’ve been back two days now from the Idaho Writers and Readers Rendezvous in Boise and am about fully recovered… and tomorrow I have to jump on another plane for another literary event which I’m really excited about… and can’t reveal just yet what it’s about.
(In fiction, we call that “raising a story question” and they’re intended to create tension for the reader and help make the novel a page-turner... I’ll talk about it when I return, so stay tuned…)
I arrived in Boise, already tired from running to make connections in Chicago. I have fairly severe COPD, so it’s not just a stroll for me…
My host and benefactor (he paid for me to come to Boise), one of my publishers, Aaron Patterson, picked me up at the airport. It was the first time we’d met in person, and for some reason I had it in mind that Aaron was 6’5”. When this midget at 6”1” showed up, I didn’t recognize him… Expecting a basketball player, I was shocked to meet a jockey… Well, maybe not quite a jockey, but not 6’5” either… StoneGate Ink publisher, Aaron Patterson


But, height-challenged as he was, Aaron turned out to be one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. He’s also a superb and hugely-successful publisher and I’ve three of my books with him—JUST LIKE THAT, THE PERFECT CRIME and MIRROR, MIRROR. (There’s a new one that will be forthcoming soon.) Aaron has gone far and above what most publishers do. He’s gotten my work out in print, ebook format, and audio. He’s also extremely successful with his books and authors and after hanging out with him for three days, it’s easy to see why. He genuinely cares about the folks he publishes. As does his chief lieutenant, Kate Copsey. Here’s a photo of the three of us at the reading I did on Thursday night at Bruce Delaney’s Rediscovered Books bookstore.
 Aaron Patterson, me, and Aaron's CEO, Kate Copsey at the Rediscovered Books Bookstore before my reading in Boise.
We drove to his gorgeous house and I unpacked a bit and then we hit it to downtown Boise to the Boise Centre where the event was taking place and checked in. Met the director of the Rendezvous, Doug Copsey (who just happened to be the uncle of the aforementioned Kate Copsey). Grabbed an adult beverage and something to eat and then we were off to my reading. I got to meet my cyber-friend, Bri Clark, and some other delightful folks. One was a lady I know just by her first name--Karen--and she was truly delightful. Me and Bri Clark at the Rediscovered Books reading.


Afterwards, Kate, Aaron and I went out to grab a bite to eat and… you know… adult beverages…
The next day, the Rendezvous began in earnest. Doug Copsey set it up right. I’ve been to lots of writing conferences where you don’t have five seconds to yourself, but he created a schedule where all of the presenters had plenty of time to just mingle and meet and greet and attend other presenter’s talks and it was terrific. I presented my first talk in the afternoon when I was delighted to see a full room for my talk on story beginnings. Great crowd, great questions, great responses. Got some wonderful, positive feedback from many of the attendees. They put me in the Snake Room, which many of the girls I dated pre-getting married, would agree to have been fantastic type-casting…
BTW, the folks in Idaho are just the nicest, most gracious, smartest people you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting. Plus, I LOVE their general politics! I could move there and feel at home instantly. They’re fiercely independent and like me, abhor a nanny state. The rugged individualist still exists, boobies, and they’re in Idaho in bunches. These folks just don’t abide b.s. But, they’re polite about it and not in your face, strident. Kind of refreshing. Kind of REALLY REFRESHING! I’ll tell you a bit later about a small incident at bestselling author C.J. Box’s talk the last night that will illustrate what I’m talking about here.
That morning, I went to Aaron’s presentation on Ebooks: The New Landscape of Publishing which was directly in Aaron’s wheelhouse. He’s one of the most successful ebook publishers out there. I mean… hugely successful. Then, in the afternoon and before my presentation, I got to sit in on author John Rember’s talk on Writing Violence. John had attended my reading the night before and we hit it off immediately. Along with Aaron and a couple of other folks, he became my “new best friend.” He reminded me so much—both with his personality and his writing—of another “new best friend” Jerry Dennis who I’d met at Yellow Springs for the Antioch University conference I was privileged to be a presenter at earlier, and the first thing I did when I returned home was to introduce them via email to each other. I hope it’s the start of a beautiful friendship for each of them. I got to sit in on the end of another of my “new best friends,” screenwriter Lance Thompson for his talk on Adapting Story to the Screen. Wonderful presentation!
Gave my talk and then mingled. I met so many wonderful writers and readers and I won’t be able to remember all of their names, alas. One guy I met and talked to quite a bit was a truly terrific guy, Clay Morgan, who runs the BSU Story Initiative. We had a lot in common. He’s married to a former astronaut and I was stationed at Cape Canaveral at the NASA complex back in the early sixties and we had stories to swap. I also met a wonderful woman, Amanda Turner, who was one of the organizers and just a delightful person. She joined us at lunch on Saturday. They have a deal where folks can eat dinner with one of the presenters and she was part of our merry little group. I met another lady and I’m so sorry I didn’t write her name down, but we hit it off immediately as she’d graduated from St. Mary’s College in South Bend and her husband from Notre Dame and since I’m a lifelong Irish fan, we hit it off immediately. Also at our lunch, was writer Gabriel Cardoso, who’s writing a really cool book, and writer Rick Just, who became another of my “new best friends.” The next day, Rick and I had a manuscript consultation and I was pretty useless to him as the only crit I could give him was on one line. If I was Rick, I’d demand a refund…
That night we went out and I made the mistake of eating some steamed clams. Had a toss-and-turn night of mild food poisoning that I won’t soon forget… My wife Mary reminded me that I’d had the same thing happen earlier in the year when I was at Bouchercon, and suggested mildly in her somewhat inimitable (read: sarcastic) way, that maybe I should avoid seafood when on the road or in places where I couldn’t see a beach… Point taken, Mary…
I screwed up the next day with the food poisoning episode. I planned on putting a waste basket up by me at the podium when I began the talk on THELMA and LOUISE, telling the audience what had happened the night before, and that I was putting the waste basket there in the event of… you know… a ralphing incident. But, I forgot to. I’d planned at the end to tell everybody that I’d just presented a graphic example of a story question. That I knew everybody, even while listening to me, had part of their attention focused on the wastebasket, wondering when I was going to toss my cookies (or clams, as the case might be), and that was what story questions do—create tension on the page while reading the narrative… but, alas, I simply forgot and I know I missed my chance to create some writer’s lore and maybe beget an article in the Glorious Writing Times Magazine about how clever a teacher I was. Wish I could do that over…
Met some other great folks. Joanne Pence, for one. Had a great conversation with her and unfortunately wasn’t able to attend her talk.
Had a consultation with Rick Just and another writer, Sherry Horton, who was ex-Navy like myself. She has a terrific idea for a novel and I got to see her first pages. Met Cameron Morfit at lunch on Thursday and was stoked. He’s a senior writer for Sports Illustrated and Golf Magazine and had some terrific stories to tell.
And then, I got to meet C.J. Box, the headliner. A couple of weeks before the Rendezvous, I decided to pick up one of his books so I’d be familiar with his work. Just the polite thing to do, y’know? Well, today I’m finishing up the tenth of Mr. Box’s novels… He’s that good. Brilliant writer, huge bestseller, and now I know why. He gave the keynote speech of the event and it was a corker. During his talk, during the Q and A, a guy stood up and asked if there were any gunfights in his books.

Well, since he’s got an entire series centered around protagonist Game Warden Joe Pickett and his best bud, super warrior Nate Romanowski who always carries the world’s biggest handgun… and enjoys using it… this seems to have been a question that could only be posed by someone who had never read Box or, if he did, simply wanted to get his political stance on record… The guy asked if Box had any gunfights in his novels and he wanted to know as he was against guns because they killed folks. Guns just walk into rooms and shoot people, I guess… I confess I’m curious what this fella thinks about violent video games that desensitize kids into being able to kill, but that’s something for another forum…
Me, I probably would have engaged in a bit of an argument with the guy, but Mr. Box handled it deftly and without pissing anyone (even this guy) off. He simply said, “Well, my character, Joe Pickett is a game warden and the books are thrillers with lots of truly bad guys, so… yeah, there are gunfights.” He added, “You didn’t think they fought each other with beanbags, did you?” The room erupted and the situation not only was defused, it was never fused.
It was just a wonderful experience, every single moment! Hope they’ll have me back at some future date.
If I neglected to mention any of the wonderful folks I met, I’m truly sorry and only have my Halfzeimer’s to blame. If I didn’t remember your name, please know that I remember your face and the talks we had. There was a group of people who continually manned the desk to answer questions, direct people, etc., and I regret I didn’t get their names. They were so danged helpful and nice, too!
One last mention for Bruce Delaney who owns the Rediscovered Books bookstore along with his wife. Not only did they host my reading, but they were at the Rendezvous every hour of the event, with a table set up with all of our books. I don’t think they got five minutes during the whole time to take a break. And they sold some books! Bruce told me he’d had to recorder my Hooked book four times and they still ran out. I know that first-hand. On the second day, I was signing books and this lady came up for me to sign a copy of Hooked, and she said she’d just “stolen it.” Literally. She said it was the last one and another lady had it in her hand, and set it down to dig in her purse for a pen and something distracted her and she turned her head and this lady had snatched it up. Now, this is a woman who could clearly write a thriller from the bad guys’ pov. I’m just sayin’…
If any of you ever get the chance to attend the annual Idaho Readers and Writers Rendezvous… GO! You won’t be sorry.
And, you know what? The entire time I was there I never ate a single Idaho potato! I think I’ll have to go back and see what they’re like. I hear they’re tasty…
Blue skies,Les
Gotta include a photo of my lovely wife, Mary, whom I usually just call "Eye Candy" and who always offers me great advice, like "Don't eat seafood on the road" albeit too late...