H.B. Berlow's Blog, page 21

Communion

I used to be a very social person. Now, I don’t mean to focus on the “used to be” as much as the “very.” There has been no 180 degree movement in the opposite direction. But for obvious reasons, I have felt removed from the notion of social interaction. My job in a call center has always involved communication via phone but there were co-workers with whom to commingle. My wife and I were not the “going-out-to-dinner” types because, well, I love to cook.

It is more an internal change, a lack of desire to be involved in groups for entertainment purposes, or gatherings of necessity rather than intention. When this “whole thing” passes, I will not be inclined to go back to an office setting and will be hard pressed to venture forth.

There is one place, one kind of gathering that suits me and that is demonstrably important: a writers conference. The communion found there is the type of energy and sustenance I feel is vital to my overall well-being. This is not to say I might have differences of opinion in both the religious, political, and personal discussions. Nevertheless, when writers gather, the focus is on craft, creation, and ultimately, the life-affirming acts of Art.

Many disagreements of a personal nature found prominently on social media melt away at a writers conference. There is a singular focus, at times abstract when filtered through the Happy Hour gatherings, but mostly a desire to put into words characters and places and events that heretofore did not exist. It is nothing short of exhilarating.

So, I can only hope the pandemic will not interfere with my attendance at the OWFI (https://www.owfi.org/) conference in 2021. Or that I will be able to see my local writer’s group here in Wichita at one of our local hangouts rather than Facebook Room or Zoom or Skype. I will certainly keep writing but I do miss that communion.

Strange Bedfellows: Philosophy and Crime

I am concurrently reading the following:

Shadow of Death, an historical crime fiction by Michael D. Graves

Meditations, by the Stoic philosopher and emperor Marcus Aurelius

I and Thou, by the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber.

If we were to use a culinary example, this is like a peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich. Certainly, I am not the only person who has a varied bookshelf or “bedside stack” and can appear eclectic. What has occurred to me is the similarities these tomes have between them.

Essentially (and with no disrespect to philosophers of any sort), Marcus Aurelius and Martin Buber provide a way of looking at life and meaning, from their own perspectives, intuitions, intellects, and experiences. It is a search for the truth as much as it is a search for meaning.

To some degree, these works are not different than religious or spiritual tracts, whether we refer to the Old or New Testaments, the Koran, or the Dead Sea Scrolls. Throughout the ages, mankind has sought a deeper understanding of the nature of existence.

A good crime fiction contains a search as well. Obviously, the protagonist (often a detective of some sort) is trying to ascertain the perpetrator of the crime whether it be murder, theft, kidnapping, etc. There are many works in the genre in which the adversaries are mirror images of each other and thus play against the notion of purely Good vs. Evil. Somehow, I am a part of you and you are a part of me. (An example would be Will Graham’s ability to insinuate himself into the mind of the killer in Red Dragon.)

These are the examples when crime fiction goes deeper, beyond a simple resolution and into “the meaning of Life” especially if a murder has been committed. There are some detectives that want more than to turn the culprit over to the wheels of justice. When I read something of that sort, I am more intrigued because the work is not following the standard tropes of the hard-boiled and noir genres that I prefer.

This is all pertinent to me because I am currently working on a new historical crime fiction series that takes place in post World War II. The main character is a former Wichita police officer who enrolled right after Pearl Harbor. His father hoped he would become a rabbi; he didn’t have the desire to return to the department and became a detective. My hope is to interject the conflicts between spiritual and secular laws.

When all is said and done, I can’t help but think of Marlowe’s attitude:

“What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered with things like that.”

We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll keep reading.

A Visual Tool for Writing

As I await a release date for the final installment in the Ark City Confidential Chronicles, I have begun work on a new historical crime fiction series. This one takes place in Wichita shortly after World War II. By setting it where I live, it should allow me to access research tools a lot more easily than driving 45 minutes down to Ark City.

I had began research on this series in April 2019 and began the first draft April of this year. Whereas much about the character has been fleshed out (a Jew whose father would have preferred he become a rabbi rather than a private investigator; a former policeman; a war injury representative of his personal imperfections, etc.) it is really the vibe and feel that needs to become as “real” to me as possible.

In working within this genre I have learned that I need to see what a time period looked like. The hairstyles and clothing, cars and buildings, businesses, all the aspects of day-to-day life which we so often take for granted need to become second nature to me. I already have two corkboards hanging up on the wall in front of me where I write. Having located photos of Wichita from the appropriate time period, I can easily look up for a brief reminder.

However, as I alluded to earlier, it is far easier for me to drive around looking for locations. To that end, I used a couple of hours the other day (while on vacation from work) to seek out the places, both real and fictional, to give me a greater sense of perspective. In some cases, the buildings still existed as they were back then, albeit different businesses now. There were also buildings at addresses that are to be in the first book (after all, this IS a series) which are representations of fictional businesses.

But, wait. There’s more.

I collated these photos into a short video, including both music and captions. It’s a mini book trailer that will never see the light of day. For me, it is exactly what I need to make all of this real. Some may say a writer needs only his or her imagination. While I used to think that way, I have come to realize there are many tools at our disposal as we continue to craft worlds, real or imagined, and populate them with characters who fit into those worlds and reach out to us from the page.

Seeing a photo or an old building imparts a reality that allows me to wander around in a time period nearly 75 years in the past. Hopefully, I will make it as real for my readers as it has become for me.

When everything gets back to…normal?

We adapt. That is how human beings have survived for countless generations. Weather. Disease. Technology. Social change. Whatever “Life” (in quotes and with a capital L) has thrown at us, we adapt in order to survive and, hopefully, grow. However, nothing like this pandemic has impacted many of us in our lifetimes. While the horrific tragedy of 9/11 remains ever present in our minds, our parents and grandparents could quote Pearl Harbor. This is something…more!

We assume, quite rationally, that medical science will eventually get a handle on this for the sake of our species, a vaccine will be developed, and we will return to something approximating the way we lived prior. Likely, there will be changes, alterations. And what will they be and how will they impact artists?

Social distancing may still be a kind of standard, except for the younger generation who truly believe that close proximity in a drinking establishment is vital. The Handshake as a method of greeting may go by the wayside. Self-service buffets in restaurants and hotels may vanish. There might be a greater percentage of people continuing to work from home as businesses recognize rent and utilities cut into profit margins.

What happens to the artist?

Musicians thrive on interaction with audiences. Whether it is an arena, stadium, or small coffeehouse, the feeling of a shared musical experience vastly exceeds simply wearing wireless ear buds.

4K UHD representations of paintings do not compare with standing before a magnificent work that almost seems to be alive and reaching out to you as much as you are connecting with it.

And the writer, along with the commensurate book signings and writers conferences, where rubbing elbows and schmoozing are vital. Because, after all, writers tend to write about people and the source of their inspiration is right before them, not on a screen of some kind.

This is still a long tunnel we are traversing. There is always a light to be seen, currently the briefest of glimmers. No amount of creative thought can prepare us for what will be on the other side. I can assure you, however, most artists will continue to create and reach out. That is the greatest thing they can offer.

The Greater Madness

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”

Ray Bradbury

“We all go a little mad sometimes.”

Norman Bates

Work from home. Stay at home. Lockdown. Social distancing.

You’ve heard these expressions and more. It is life during a pandemic, regardless of your affiliations. Now, I’ve always been told that most artists are a little standoffish, socially awkward, introverted. Maybe that is an inherent part of digging deep down within yourself to feel what is going on around and within you and then expressing it through your art.

But there have always been social outlets. Back in the day, there were salons. We’ve had open mics and conferences and gatherings, both among ourselves and with the general public viewing and commenting on our art. These days we have Zoom and Skype and Google Meet. We have the technological wherewithal to “gather” and communicate.However, the very essence of our humanity IS the interaction. Seeing someone in person does not compare to an image on a screen even if it is in 4K HD resolution.

From a job standpoint, I have worked in call centers for the better part of 20 years so I am not missing anything by working from home, except for that same interaction with co-workers (especially the newer ones who are dying to see which Hawaiian shirt I will be wearing that day). It’s the gathering of artists, fellow writers, going to a coffee house and seeing a local artist’s work, a concert featuring a singer or group I am unfamiliar with.

This is where Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Bates both have a say in this situation. I have been writing, editing, researching, anything that will make me feel accomplished as a writer. I have been baking: muffins and breads mostly. Also, coming up with new creations and finding a way of doing something (ANYTHING) with the abundance of homegrown tomatoes I have been given (marinara sauce, baked sun dried tomatoes, etc.)

It is only through these acts of creativity that the separation from the world in all of its glorious five senses can be made acceptable. It is only by exerting that creative sense I can feel human in the true and honest sense of the word (and not a number or statistic as one who has or has not become ill). Otherwise, Mr. Bates speaks truly.

Are you who you write?

The other night I watched The Girl Hunters based on a novel by Mickey Spillane who also adapted the screenplay. Here’s the kicker: Spillane starred in the movie as his creation, Mike Hammer. There’s no need to discuss his acting (which was passable for a 1963 B-movie noir). What fascinates me is the bit of trivia that this may be the only example of a writer acting as his own character.

Can you imagine Arthur Conan Doyle acting in an early silent film as Sherlock Holmes?

[image error]

[image error]

What about Ian Fleming as James Bond?

[image error]

[image error]

I have a hard time imagining Raymond Chandler as Phillip Marlowe.

[image error]

[image error]

This then begs the question for all the writers I know. Can you see yourself playing one of your creations in a movie or t.v. show? Are you who you write? Or do you create the characters you wish you could be?

In my historical crime fiction series that started with Ark City Confidential, my main character was Baron Witherspoon, a facially scarred WWI soldier who became a beat cop in a small Kansas town. The shell shock (the early version of PTSD) and lingering questions about his past drove him forward in each book of the series. He is an interesting character to be sure but nothing like me and certainly no one I would wish to be.

I have, however, begun work on a new series. The main character this time is Jewish and lives in Wichita KS. (Okay, two points right there.) A former policeman and veteran of WWII, he walks with a limp based on a war injury and has deep concerns balancing the moral laws of his religion and the laws of man as exemplified by the legal code of the city and state. I have no such professional or military background but it does occur to me the balance of laws versus what is Right weighs out on a daily basis. Watch the news and you’ll see what I mean.

While this character is far closer to me, I do not honestly think I could play him in a movie (regardless of the nearly thirty year age difference). I was fascinated by the Spillane movie and his interpretation. But I firmly believe I would want to write a character that is so closely identified with me personally. For me, there has to be a separation between who I actually am and the characters I write.

To all my writer friends and acquaintances, are you who you write?

A Sneak Peek

The final installment of the Ark City Confidential Chronicles is now with the editor. After the recent passing of my wife’s uncle, it seemed the proper thing to do. The facially disfigured World War I veteran turned beat cop, Baron Witherspoon, was introduced in Ark City Confidential. He faced the darkest evil in Secrets of the Righteous. And he fought to save his city from German saboteurs in Lost in the Plains. The last book forces him to face various adversaries from his past, bringing the story arc full circle.

It was over a year ago that I decided to create a new historical crime fiction series. While I had grown fond of Baron and his personal struggles, he was never really ME. Strangely this was the first time in all the years I’ve been writing that I had not put more of myself into a main character.

The new series will take place in Wichita immediately following World War II. Harold Bergman (notice the initials?) is a former policeman who was making his way toward detective but enlisted after Pearl Harbor. After an injury during the Battle of the Bulge, he returns home with a limp as a reminder. The notion of the war has distorted his sense of Law and Order so he no longer feels comfortable returning to police work. Oh, and he’s Jewish and can not bring himself to acquiescing to his father’s request to become a rabbi as morality is a concept without clear definition. Naturally he becomes a private detective.

Now, while I was never in the service of any police department nor had any aspirations toward becoming a rabbi, the notion of balancing the Laws of Heaven and Earth appeal to me. What is morally correct may conflict with statutes; using your sense of morality to justify upholding legal codes, etc. The aspect of being a Jew in Wichita adds a depth to the character as well.

I began my research in April 2019. It was to some extent easier as there was more readily available information on the larger city and closer geographically. While further research at the Ablah Library on the Wichita State University campus and the Sedgwick County Historical Museum was pending, the pandemic and stay at home orders have curtailed continued efforts. Nevertheless, I started writing the first draft this April.

It is, to be sure, a strange confluence of wrapping up one series while initiating another all without the benefit of in-depth investigation within my community. However, these two writing projects have allowed me to maintain a reasonable sense of sanity and composure during these times. The act of creativity reminds me of my humanity. This alone has been a blessing.

The Writer in Quarantine (or Fiction in the Time of Covid)

There is the assumption that all writers are solitary creatures, sitting hunched over their respective keyboards, oblivious to the world around them. Therefore, to be in confinement/lockdown/quarantine/stay-at-safe/sheltering-at-home has no overt effect upon them. For the most part, there is a ring of truth to this. A slight ring. Not a peeling of bells.

The truth is most writers I know and have known are social creatures. We enjoy the communion of each others’ company to: revel in our current Work In Progress; get sly feedback without being a part of a critique group; get new ideas for agents/editors/publishers; gloat; cry; drink. A writers conference, for example, is the epitome of that communion. New ideas, social networking, drinking.

There is an impact that many acutely feel, myself included. In reflection, there are positive aspects but without the gathering we feel less likely to complete our current journey. The available technology can bridge the cap.

I have finally submitted the final installment of my historical crime fiction series, the Ark City Confidential Chronicles, while actually starting on a new series in April, almost a year after formulating the ideas and initiating the research. I continued working on my presentations for the OWFI Conference where I was to be a presenter but which, sadly, was cancelled. The Conference Chair invited all speakers to next years’s event and I graciously accepted. I’ve been reading more, watching old noir films on Amazon Prime, and reveled in the research associated with writing historical fiction.

On the other hand, I have not been able to go to the library or the county’s historical museum. I have not gathered with a small writers group I have been a part of to just say “Hey, what’s up?” I have gone grocery shopping, visited my mother-in-law with my wife, a few walks around the neighborhood and one in a park, and to the mailbox and the liquor store.

We as writers embrace the world for knowledge, experience, and inspiration. Not just the stored memories but the views of an ever-evolving world. While what goes on today is creating a new normal, it would be sad if our ability to experience…Life were diminished because of masks and gloves and social distancing.

Writers respond to the world around them. It will be interesting to see what emerges from our collective imagination.

The Food Analogy

When I started this blog, I intended to discuss my two passions: cooking and writing. After a while I felt like a servant of two masters fighting in a crowded blogosphere of people writing more intently about each on a separate basis. As my own writing life and journey was unique, I felt it more prudent to focus on that alone.

Over the course of time, I realized why I chose to wrote about each and how significant it was. Not because what I cooked was so special or worthy of people downloading my recipes. The thing that tied the two together was the acr of Creation.

Take disparate elements. Mix them in a known or new fashion. Allow it to ferment or bake. Present it to the world at large. Does it matter if we are talking about flour, yeast, water, and salt or scenes, descriptions, dialogue, and narration? The elements used by the writer and the cook are different; the process is entirely similar.

Take any recipe for artisan bread (this one perhaps) and marvel at the few ingredients and the simplicity of the instructions. Now, go do it. Does it come out perfectly? Putting it together slapdash will result in a less than palatable outcome.

Consider a work of genre fiction, any genre you like. Examine the tropes used that have been longstanding in such works. Outline a similar story and follow the guidelines. Now, sit down and write it. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

These processes are easy and difficult at the same time. It takes focus, concentration, and discipline. It also takes a passion and respect for the Process (for cooking) or the Craft (in writing). Sure, on a night when I don’t have a dinner planned, I have enough ingredients in my house to put together a palatable dinner. If I were at a writer’s conference, seminar, or class and was given ten minutes to write the opening paragraph of a futuristic noir piece, I would be able to write something interesting.

But over the long term, focus, concentration, and discipline are mainstays if you want to present to anyone a meal they will savor or a story they won’t forget.

Accomplishment = Hope

It is far too easy to identify all the things we are unable to do because of the pandemic. All the things we are limited in doing. All the things that have supposedly been taken away from us. Sadly, this negates all the good things that remain, all the things (though perhaps not as grand) that we ARE able to accomplish. And that alone should give us Hope.

This past week, I have been on vacation, such that it is. While I work from home, the stress of the uncertainty of the future can not be shared with anyone in the organization face to face. Therefore, these few days have been a respite from the possibilities of something dreadful. They have also allowed me time for more creative endeavors which have uplifted my soul.

First, there is the writing. That was a given. I sent the final installment of the Ark City Confidential Chronicles off to my publisher. I am certainly hoping they see their way to printing it as it will make a fine tribute to my wife’s late uncle who inspired it’s creation.

I set about working on the first book of a new series. Again, historical crime fiction, post WWII, involving a slightly more complex private investigator. This one takes place in Wichita. The research, though daunting, has been decidedly easier because I have more local resources.

But, there has also been the baking. So far: two loaves of no-knead peasant bread, 12 whole wheat blueberry and nut muffins, 14 date-nut muffins. There is likely two loaves of beer bread this weekend. And, as usual, an array of interesting dishes for my wife to sample after long days of work for her.

We actually went out on a picnic of sorts at a local park. Not too many people out and about. A pleasant evening. The sun peering through the trees. The fresh air cleansing our lungs.

The way things are now are not what I would prefer. But I have been given the gift of a creative mind. To accomplish anything provides Hope. This will carry me forth into the future.