Libby Fischer Hellmann's Blog, page 19

Jump Cut: A Preview

I thought you might like to read the first few chapters of Jump Cut… here you go.

Chapter One

Tiny clouds of dust exploded whenever the boy kicked the stone down the road. He’d found it two hundred yards back as he skirted the herd of cattle. Flat and round, it looked like a small naan baked by the men in the village, except it was black. That was unusual around these parts; the summer sun bleached everything, including rocks, pasty white. A good omen, he thought, and he made sure to kick with his right foot, to lengthen the trajectory of the stone.

His destination was the madrassa at the village mosque. In a few weeks, he’d be picking cotton in his family’s fields, but until the plants blossomed and the bolls split apart, his parents allowed him to attend school. The boy didn’t know how much longer that would last. But the boy didn’t go very often. Over the past few months the atmosphere at the mosque had changed. Now a palpable energy bounced off the stone walls. Men he didn’t know, men with flowing robes and beards, had come to the village, talking urgently about things he didn’t understand.

He tried not to take notice. Only nine, he was more interested in playing tag, learning football, and sucking down the sweets his parents allowed him when they traveled into the city of Aksu three hours away. But it was difficult not to listen when the men sat all the boys down and lectured them about joining jihad. In fact, when he told his father about it one evening, his father scowled and put down his pipe.

“These men are not our kind. They speak of matters that do not concern us. They are dangerous. If you are not careful they will bewitch you. Put you under a spell that will make you leave your home and family and travel across the desert with them.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide, and he threw his arms around his father. “I will never leave you, Dada,” he said. “Or Ana.”

His mother kissed the top of his head. “We know that, Yusup.” But above his head she and his father exchanged a worried glance. “I have an idea,” she said after a moment. “Why don’t we go into Aksu tomorrow? All three of us. I have some shopping to do, and afterward we can go to the Internet shop and call your sister.”

“On the Skype,” his father cut in.

“Yes. The Skype,” she repeated. She shook her head. The wonder of the technology still astonished her. “It is like she is in the next room, not halfway around the world.” She smiled.

“Our world is changing,” Yusup’s father said. “Soon, my love, everyone will know about us. And they will come to our aid.”

His mother straightened up. “I pray you are right.” They exchanged another glance. The boy caught it but didn’t know what it meant. He was excited at the prospect of going into town. They were too poor to have their own computer, but he was spellbound by the machines and their power. When he grew up he wanted his own Internet café with all the monitors and printers and Internet connections. He was a curious child, his parents said. Like his sister. To be able to contact anyone on earth at any time, to explore the world whenever he wanted, was the most thrilling activity he could imagine. Already he was anticipating what he would look for tomorrow. His sister always gave him suggestions for places he could search on the Google.

“Of course, we will only go if you have done all your chores,” his father said.

So Yusup made sure to feed the goats and cows, sweep the floor, and help Ana in the kitchen. Still, it was early when he finished, and there was nothing to do. Most of his friends were at the madrassa. His parents gave him permission to meet them at the close of instruction. He hoped someone would have a ball.

He kissed his parents good-bye and set out for the madrassa. On his way to the village he passed the stream, flush from the spring thaw. The stubbles of grass that sprouted on its banks were a stark contrast to the red rocky mountains that hung heavy and silent in the distance. This was his corner of the world, but he wondered what other places looked like. He’d seen pictures of big cities like Beijing and Shanghai. And, of course, the American cities of New York and Chicago, where his sister now lived. He swung his arms and smiled as he kicked the stone. He had much to look forward to: an afternoon of football with friends, and tomorrow a trip into town.

A few huts indicated he was nearing the village. He quickened his pace and soon the squat buildings of the mosque, the village hall, and the marketplace came into view. He leaned over, picked up the stone, and slipped it into his pocket. As he did, a buzzing sound above pierced the silence. He looked up. He couldn’t see anything, but the whining persisted. Sometimes he caught a glint way up in the sky. His father had said those glints were airplanes full of people traveling around the world. He expected to see the sun reflecting off one now and waited. But there was nothing: no reflection, no metallic glitter. Instead, the buzz got louder. Like thousands of wasps hovering inches from his ears.

He started to jog toward the village buildings. Something was wrong. He needed to get inside. Protect himself from the wasps. All at once a hissing sound mixed with a soft thwack overpowered the buzz.

A great white light flashed and obliterated all sight and sound.

Chapter Two

Monday

Before my gangstah-rap neighbor emptied his AK-47 into his buddy, the most exciting thing to happen in our village was the opening of a new grocery store. The store hired a pianist who played Beatles tunes, no doubt to persuade shoppers to part with their money more easily. My neighbor, rapper King Bling, was helping his fans part with their money too, but the shooting ended all that. Once he made bail, he moved and hasn’t been heard from since.

And so it goes in my little corner of the North Shore, about twenty miles from downtown Chicago. There are benefits. The King, as he’s known to his disciples, gave our cops something to do besides ticket speeders. And the new grocery store gave me the chance to buy prepared dinners so I could dispense with cooking.

Both of which come in handy when I’m producing a video, as was the case now. We didn’t finish the shoot until seven. I raced up the expressway toward home, dropped into the store, and was eyeballing a turkey pot roast—the only one left—when my cell trilled. I fished it out of my bag.

“Mom, where did you get the shoes?” I heard chatter and giggles in the background.

“What shoes, Rachel?”

“The ones you gave Jackie.” My daughter, Rachel, had successfully, if unbelievably, graduated from college and lived in an apartment in Wrigleyville. Jackie was her roommate. “Everybody thinks they’re awesome.”

I smiled. I’d bought a pair of shoes online a few weeks earlier. They looked like gray sneakers on a raised three-inch platform. They were adorable, just my style. When I tried them on, however, they were so steeply pitched I knew my middle-aged body would break one of my middle-aged legs in minutes. I’d sighed and given them to Rachel’s roommate, who is decades younger but wears my size. “I don’t remember. Online someplace.” I eyed the pot roast and closed in.

“Did you have a Groupon?”

I wracked my brain. “I think I did. How did you know?”

“You never buy retail. Okay, bye. Oh, wait, Q wants us to take you to dinner.”

Q, short for Quentin, is Rachel’s boyfriend, and he’s lasted longer than her usual flavor-of-the-month guy. They’d been “just friends” in high school but five years later discovered the other person was “pretty cool,” as Rachel put it. Apparently it was more serious than I thought, if he was suggesting a meet-up with Mom. That, or else he had perfected the suck-up-to-the-parents routine.

“What a lovely thought,” I replied, still eyeing the turkey pot roast, which smelled delicious even from a distance. Unfortunately, another shopper, a man with bushy eyebrows, narrow eyes, and one of those small baskets over his arm, was homing in on it too. I had to move fast.

“Let’s talk about it later. I’m getting dinner…ready.”

“Oh, Mom, I know you’re in the grocery store. I can hear the music.”

Busted.

The man with the basket caught me staring at the pot roast. His gaze wandered from me to the food. Back to me. I gave him a steely look. He turned back to the pot roast, shrugged in disdain, and picked up a slab of ribs instead.

I scooped up my dinner. It’s the little victories that count.

Chapter Three

Monday–Tuesday

Back home after dinner, I called my father, who was cranky. Then Luke, my boyfriend, who wasn’t. After that I called Susan, my closest friend. My daily check-ins complete, I climbed into bed and was soon immersed in a novel about time travel when my cell chirped. A text from Mac, my director and cameraman.

“Call at 6 a.m. Have to light the whole booth.”

I sighed and wondered for the umpteenth time if I was getting too old for early morning shoots. We were producing a video for Delcroft Aviation, one of the largest aircraft manufacturers in the world, with huge civilian and military contracts. Headquartered in the Loop, they’d been around for years but had recently updated their corporate communications strategy. Now they wanted to appear “engaged with and interested in” their publics. In the age of Facebook, Twitter, and about a hundred other social media networks, I wondered how much a consultant had been paid to come up with such an obvious strategy. I didn’t mind too much, though; the consultant recommended a video about the company, and Delcroft asked me for an RFP. We would feature only Delcroft’s consumer aviation side. We were to have nothing to do with their military aircraft, bombers, and drones, which probably accounted for a hefty chunk, if not most, of the corporation’s profits.

The video I proposed would be released in “chapters,” like a book. A new “chapter” would appear on their website, Facebook, and YouTube once a week over several months. Delcroft would also sponsor a contest in which regular folks could win tickets to the destination of their choice, no strings attached.

Delcroft liked the idea, and we were now shooting one of our final setups, an aviation trade show at McCormick Place, where Delcroft was a major exhibitor.

Mac, prudent as always, was on top of everything.

“I’ll bring coffee,” I texted back.

* * *

The sun winked off the frozen surface of Lake Michigan the next morning as I drove south to McCormick Place. During one of the most brutal Chicago winters in decades, the smudge of purple clouds tinged with pink and gold hinted that the fury of winter might—just might—have peaked. I parked in the overpriced lot, bought half a dozen cups of overpriced coffee, and carried them into the massive exhibit hall.

The crew was setting up lights and shades, and Mac was behind the camera framing shots. MacArthur J. Kendall III owns a production studio in Northbrook. He started out shooting sweet sixteens, bar mitzvahs, and weddings, but parlayed that into corporate videos. We’ve worked together for nearly twenty years, from the days of two-inch video, to one-inch, three-quarter, and now digital.

Mac’s name, salt-and-pepper hair, button-down shirts, and penny loafers scream WASP, but the nasty scar running down his left cheek saves him from total Episcopalian infamy. He tells people he was attacked by a Mexican drug lord and made me swear never to reveal it was from a car accident.

I went up to him. “What do you need me to do?”

“You have the shot list?”

I nodded and pulled it out of the canvas bag that doubles as my purse. We went over it. He gestured to the main area of the Delcroft booth, which featured a large projection screen with the company logo on both sides, and about twenty chairs arranged theater-style.

“What time’s the first presentation?”

Teresa Basso Gold, our client contact, had told us to be prepared for a series of short remarks by Delcroft executives touting the company’s latest innovations.

I checked my watch. Barely six thirty. “The doors don’t open until nine, and Teresa said not to expect anyone until ten. But you can get some establishing shots, if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mac said and strolled over to confer with the crew.

Chapter Four

Tuesday

The shoot went smoothly, but there were lots of talking heads, and not many cutaways or B-roll. A lot of video folks don’t mind. In fact, jump cuts of people talking, with no cover footage or transitions linking their remarks, are common in our “instant video” society. But I guess I’m a purist.

We did have plenty of video from the manufacturing facilities we’d been to, as well as interiors of the new planes they’d just introduced. Teresa had already sent me some file footage that would help us show the history of the company. Now I suggested she let us fly on one of their new planes to the Bahamas for B-roll; the light would be so much better. After all, it was February in Chicago. She rolled her eyes.

“Well…” I backed off. “There’s always Miami…”

She laughed.

I sighed.

A man eyed us as he brushed by and smiled, as if we’d all just shared a joke. He sat in one of the chairs, presumably waiting for the next speaker. He was probably somewhere in his thirties, with piercing eyes, longish black hair, and a slender build. He seemed to be part Asian, part Caucasian, and he reminded me of Keanu Reeves in a pinstriped suit.

Teresa and I exchanged glances. She smiled. “Nice.”

I checked her left hand. No wedding ring.

“He’s all yours,” I said. “I’m off the market.”

“Can’t do it,” she said. “You know what they say about where you eat…”

I shrugged. “Pity.” The guy was sexy in an understated but undeniable way.

“You said it.”

I liked Teresa.

* * *

Producing, when you have a great director like Mac, is easy. I didn’t have much to worry about except the script and how we’d edit the footage in post. I drifted around the booth, studying the models of wide-bodied jets. They were three feet in diameter and remarkably accurate, down to the upholstery on the tiny seats. I decided to ask for one of the models once the trade show was over. My boyfriend, Luke, is a pilot. He’d love it. I could picture it on the mantel above the fireplace in his office. Although maybe it should be suspended from the ceiling. I was mulling it over when I was interrupted by Keanu Reeves.

“Pardon me.” He smiled politely. “I couldn’t help noticing…” He motioned to the crew. “Are you with them?”

I nodded.

“What are you filming?”

“It’s a promotional video for Delcroft,” I said.

“Promotional?” He tilted his head as if he didn’t know what that meant.

Now that we were standing together, I saw that his eyes weren’t dark like his hair. In fact, they were sea blue and fringed with dark lashes. Striking.

“We’re showing the softer side of Delcroft,” I said, stealing the old Sears ad line.

His expression remained blank. He didn’t get it. I cleared my throat and stuck out my hand. “Ellie Foreman.”

He looked me over. I have long, wavy black hair, which, thanks to my hairdresser, will never contain a strand of gray, and blue-gray eyes, and I can still fit into a size eight, although they keep liberally interpreting the measurements. Still, it didn’t appear he was interested in my feminine attributes, which was what I’d figured when he approached.

We shook hands. “I’m Gregory Parks,” he said. “Do you work for Delcroft?”

“No. I’m a freelance producer. Delcroft hired me to make this video. Actually, a series of videos,” I added.

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to know what to make of that.

“I used to be in broadcast news.” I still feel compelled to tell people that. As if to assure them that while I might be a flak now, I was once a respectable member of the fourth estate. Then again, given the deplorable state of TV news today, it might not have been such a wise decision.

His brow furrowed into a puzzled expression, which was cut short by the trill of his cell. He picked up, and a tender look came over him. He spoke softly in what sounded like Chinese, smiled, then disconnected and pocketed the cell.

His smile brightened, his eyebrows arched, and he looked more interested. I wondered if he’d been talking to a woman. Maybe his girlfriend or wife. I looked for a ring but didn’t see one.

Suddenly he was all business again. “What division of Delcroft is making this—this video?”

“Public information.” I wondered why he was asking. “What about you?” I asked

“I’m a—a consultant.”

The consummate corporate catchall. It could mean anything from janitor to CEO. “That covers a lot of territory.”

“My company sent me to research new developments in aviation.”

“Oh. What company is that?”

“You wouldn’t know it.” He smiled, reached inside his jacket pocket, and pulled out a crush-proof box of Marlboros. I’d know the red-and-white logo anywhere. When I smoked, Marlboro was my brand, and the packaging hasn’t changed.

I frowned. “Those things can kill you, you know.” One of the things I’m most proud of is that I quit twenty years ago.

He colored and reached back into his jacket. “Sorry. I meant to give you this.” He withdrew a business card, handed it to me, and put the cigarette box back into his pocket. I dug into my bag and gave him one of mine in return.

I took a look at the card. Just his name, an email, and a phone number.

“And the company?” I asked again.

His color deepened. “Actually—uh—I’m doing some work with Delcroft.”

“Really.”

He nodded.

“Well, in that case, don’t let me keep you. Nice meeting you, Gregory.” I dropped his card into my bag and turned away. He’d been pumping me. Checking me out. But he clearly didn’t appreciate being pumped in return.

When we broke for lunch at a McCormick Place restaurant, I spotted Gregory again across the room. He waved as if we were best friends. I waved back.

“Who’s that?” Mac asked between bites of a supersized twelve-inch hot dog.

“I’m really not sure. At first I thought he was trying to pick me up.” I shrugged. “But he wasn’t. He was pumping me about Delcroft. But then he said he worked with them.”

Mac raised his eyebrows.

“Weird dude.” I shrugged.

The rest of the day was a blur of presentations, close-ups of the model planes, and cutaways. By the time we were finished, it was after six.

“Shall I upload the footage to you?” Mac asked.

Now that everything’s digital, I no longer need to spend long hours in a dark room hunched over a machine with an editor. I can screen and tag shots on my desktop, then email Mac what I want. Still, I miss the intimacy of the editing room. That’s where the magic happens, and if you’re lucky enough to have an editor like Hank Chenowsky, who works for Mac, it doesn’t feel like work, even when I walk out of a darkened room hours later like a cranky owl blinking in the sunshine.

“You know what? I think I’ll come over tomorrow morning and screen it with Hank. Let him know, okay?”

“Good deal,” Mac said. “Bring doughnuts.”

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The Deep State Two Years Later

In early 2014 Mike Lofgren’s searing expose of the nation’s Deep State revealed a landscape where our officials, elected and otherwise, collude to protect and serve powerful, vested interests from government to commerce. It wasn’t a new theory—Eisenhower warned us about the military-industrial complex in the late Fifties, and I remember discussing the same themes in the Sixties. But Lofgren’s essay claims this hybrid of corporate, Wall Street, and national security organizations are all about making money and keeping control. What’s surprising today, is that most of the players in the Deep State no longer conduct their business in shadowy government and corporate corridors. Many of their tactics and activities are right out in the public arena, even praised. I highly recommend this interview for a summary of what the Deep State is all about.

In the upcoming release of JUMP CUT, my first Ellie Foreman thriller in ten years, I deal with part of Lofgren’s thesis; I even mention the essay specifically. Which made me wonder what the reaction to Lofgren’s essay has been two years later. Is it still news to anyone? Is it disturbing that the whispers with which it was once discussed are now in the open? Does anyone still grapple with the power thought to be vested in these institutions that run the world vs. the relative helplessness of everyone else?

What America thinks about the Deep State

After the essay was published, The Huffington Post reproduced the article in its entirety. Crooks and Liars did the same. Daily Kos said:

“When Bill Moyers covers a subject one may always anticipate that it will be journalism at its most consistently sublime, at least in comparison to the work of virtually everyone else that claims any affiliation with this country’s mainstream media.

What have other experts and people in positions of authority had to say about it? Shortly afterwards, a flurry of feedback was posted to the Bill Moyers site. It’s a chilling read.

Military Historian Andrew Bacevich was disturbed by Washington’s tacit consensus, saying:

“Modified consensus, superseding progressivism, dominated the American political scene for several decades during the latter half of the 20th century. Although the Cold War has long since ended, this emphasis on an expansive, militarized foreign policy persists.”

But Lee Fang, who writes for The Intercept , saw a glimmer of hope:

“Lofgren …notes (sic) that the Deep State relies not just on money and access, but predictability. The chance of democratic revival will not come from the political processes taught in Civics 101. Rather, it may come from some uncertain interruption in the future or from a rot caused by the parasitic nature of the Deep State itself.”

Director of the National Lawyers Guild, Heidi Boghosian went in hard and critical on mass surveillance, (which is at the heart of JUMP CUT, btw) saying:

“The term Deep State aptly conveys how the private security industry has melded with government. It is soldered by plutocracy, perpetual war, reduction of industrial capacity, US exceptionalism and political malfunction. Lofgren is a credible and welcome interpreter of how these factors combine to exert control over us.”

Who’s In — Who’s Out

But exactly which corporations, government organizations, and people are part of the Deep State? Do they ever change? Do new, more powerful agents join? Are others “blackballed?” I remember years ago, being told in theatrical whispers about the Bilderberg Group, The Trilateral Commission and The Council of Foreign Relations. They were the core of the shadow government, creating the “New World Order” through regular meetings of the aforesaid organizations and sweetened through “fun” gatherings like the annual meetings at California’s Bohemian Grove.

Recently though, a group called the Continuity of Government has joined the Deep State. Its members have written and even implemented (during 9-11) the rules for preserving the government in the event of a cataclysmic event. It’s called the Doomsday protocol.

In the area of privacy and snooping and the erosion of our civil rights, the ascendance of the NSA and other government organizations, helped along by the data collection prowess of Google, Facebook, Apple, and the telecom companies, have introduced (or perhaps a better word is “promoted”) these new members within The Deep State. And the rise of private contractors—reportedly over 70% of intelligence operations are performed by private citizens—has shifted the power within the intelligence community.

As scary as that is, what’s most disturbing, at least to me, is the notion of perpetual war, which Lofgren says is embedded into Deep State thinking. Peace is bad for the economy, so we must always be at war. Think about it. Since WW2, have there been any era of peace? Apparently, this philosophy was codified by Deep Stater’s in the 1960’s in The Report From Iron Mountain.

For a quick reference, do read this article, especially toward the end. It’s fascinating, especially since most of the videos that accompanied the text have been “removed.”

The Deep State’s Future

Given that it’s now common knowledge, I wonder if we’re suffering from Deep State saturation? Because we’re able to identify it, label it, even discuss it openly, does that mean it’s somehow become less threatening, less creepy?

Not likely. In fact, a British friend tells me her search for reactions to the Bill Moyers piece returns a warning from Google: “Some results may have been removed under data protection law in Europe.”It’s clear that someone, somewhere is actively trying to limit the essay’s spread and impact.

And, in a seemingly perfect Catch-22, Google UK says this:

“The recent ruling by the Court of Justice of the European Union has profound consequences for search engines in Europe. The court found that certain users have the right to ask search engines like Google to remove results for queries that include the person’s name. To qualify, the results shown would need to be inadequate, irrelevant, no longer relevant, or excessive….We will then assess your case – please note that this may take some time because we have already received many such requests.

Which means that if you fill out the form, the Deep State will now have YOUR name, email, and how to track you. Where are you, Yossarian?

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Join The Jump Cut 50-Skype-Book-Club-Celebration!

JUMP CUT, the 5th installment of my Ellie Foreman Mystery Series will be published on March 1. In order to celebrate and get it into the hands of as many readers as possible, I’m aiming to be a guest at 50 Book Clubs via Skype. Will you join me?

An Author at Your Book Group

Book groups help expand the reading experience for the number of people who attend; they help you finish a book; and they provide the chance to get together with friends, wine & cheese (as if you needed an excuse!).

Having the author of the book at your gathering can elevate the experience to the next level. You can:

• Ask burning questions that only the author would know

• Find out more about your favorite characters

• Learn what the author was thinking when she made a literary choice

• Discover why the plot took a particular turn

• Find out the author’s writing process

How Will It Work?

Just submit your name and email here and propose a date when you’d like me to be there. That will get the ball rolling. I’ll be available for up to 45 minutes on Skype to take questions and, hopefully, participate in the discussion.

What’s JUMP CUT About Anyway?

Here are the book description and some early reviews:

In JUMP CUT, Ellie finds herself entangled in a web of espionage, murder, and suspicion that threatens to destroy what she holds most dear.

Hired to produce a candy-floss profile of Chicago-based aviation giant Delcroft, Ellie is dismayed when company VP Charlotte Hollander trashes the production and cancels the project. Ellie believes Hollander was spooked by shots of a specific man in the video footage. But when Ellie arranges to meet the man to find out why, he is killed by a subway train before they can talk.

Ellie and her boyfriend, Luke, try to find answers, but they don’t realize how far they have ventured into the dangerous echelons of hidden power. Soon, it becomes terrifyingly clear that Ellie is in way over her head, and more lives are on the line―including her own.

“Exceptional… As Hellman’s convincing, conflicted characters face impossible choices, the tension is real and memorable.”

—Publishers Weekly, STARRED REVIEW

“Hellmann’s writing sparkles…plenty of suspense in this richly detailed thriller, but Hellmann’s characteristic wit and warmth are evident, too.”—Booklist

“From spies to drones and hackers, Jump Cut is a heart-stopping tale of corporate espionage that will have you snapping on your seatbelt. The tangled web of international intrigue is riveting. Hellmann is a renowned master of suspense, and her great talent shows in the story’s many rich characters, the beautifully honed paragraphs, and the sweep of her provocative story. A keeper!”

—Gayle Lynds, New York Times best-selling author of The Assassins

“With spooks, spies, sudden death and double-crosses, Jump Cut hits all the right notes for a top-notch action thriller. Ellie Foreman is a thoroughly likeable real-world heroine, fiercely protective of those she loves, thrown in at the deep end and swimming for her life!” —Zoë Sharp, author of the Charlie Fox series and The Blood Whisperer\

“After a long hiatus, Hellmann returns to her Chicago-based sleuth with a chilling tale that may be all too close to the truth.”

—Kirkus Reviews

While my primary objective is to make you stay up way too late reading because you can’t put it down, JUMP CUT does explore some of the issues we’re all grappling with these days. For example, what’s the difference between “intelligence” and “espionage?” In an age where every major corporation and our infrastructure is vulnerable to hackers, what level of privacy and protection should we expect? How prepared are we to give up some of our civil liberties in return? Should the government have the power to eavesdrop on every phone call or email we send? Remember that for every person who thinks Edward Snowden is a hero, there is another who considers him a traitor. Who is right? Where’s the balance? Where should it be?

For all those reasons, I believe JUMP CUT will provide lively conversations for your book group, and I’d love to be a part of them. To that end, I will provide a Discussion Guide for any book club that signs up.

Btw, the inspiration for the Book Club Challenge comes from Nomi Eve who surpassed her goal of 100 book clubs. Cheers to Nomi!

I look forward to hearing from you and your book club!

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Starred Review — Publishers Weekly

I’m awestruck, honored, and humbled that Jump Cut received a Starred Review from Publishers Weekly today. Here’s the review:

 Jump Cut: An Ellie Foreman Mystery

Libby Fischer Hellman. Poisoned Pen, $15.95 trade paper (286p) ISBN 978-1-4642-0519-4 

Hellman’s exceptional fifth Ellie Foreman mystery (after 2005’s A Shot to Die For) offers no easy solutions to the various security threats America faces today. Ellie, a video producer based in Chicago, is dismayed when the PR video she was working on for Delcroft is canceled by the aircraft company’s director of engineering. In an effort to understand what happened, Ellie slides into a deadly tangle of high-tech espionage and soon finds herself in possession of a murdered man’s encrypted flash drive, which is feverishly sought by everyone from Warren Stokes, Delcroft’s unscrupulous security chief, to a forlorn representative of the Uighurs, a persecuted Muslim minority in China. Though she hates the immorality all sides display, Ellie eventually just decides to give the drive to the least despicable player—until Stokes kidnaps her daughter and fits the girl with a suicide vest. As Hellman’s convincing, conflicted characters face impossible choices, the tension is real and memorable. (Mar.)

Reviewed on 01/15/2016 | Details & Permalink

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Jump Cut — Goodreads Giveaway and More…

Hi, everyone. Just wanted you to know that a Goodreads Giveaway for Jump Cut starts today and goes through the beginning of February. I’m giving away 3 print copies for free!

Hope you’ll sign up by clicking below…

 

 

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Goodreads Book Giveaway







Jump Cut



by Libby Fischer Hellmann

Giveaway ends February 03, 2016.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

 

 

If you prefer e-books, I have what I hope is an equally irresistible offer for you:

 

 

You can find out more here.

 

 

Happy Reading!

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The Blues, Chicago, and Creativity

It’s January, about as far from summer as it gets. It’s dark, cold, windy and gray, and all over the northern hemisphere people are feeling blue. But there’s a bright side. Chicago is full of blues clubs, and you’ll find me hanging out in them as often as I can. In fact, January is the only month that Buddy Guy does a series of live shows at Legends, his club down in the Loop.

Chicago Blues are unique, indigenous to the city. They evolved from classic blues, thanks to the Depression and Great Migration, when thousands of workers moved from the Southern states to the north’s industrial heartland. The music was developed by street musicians like the bottleneck guitar legend Kokomo Arnold, whose day job was a steelworker. But he also owned of a popular moonshine business.

Back then the open air market on Maxwell Street was a center for Blues street musicians. However, most of the city’s original blues clubs sprang up on the South Side, including Ruby Lee Gatewood’s Tavern, nicknamed The Gates, and later the Checkerboard Lounge (R.I.P.), and Theresa’s.

The Blues, as integral to Chicago as the wind, Lake Michigan, and Frank Lloyd Wright, has, unsurprisingly, inspired its own creative pursuits, and they’re not always about the music.

Cadillac Records, The Movie

Cadillac Records, the 2008 musical biopic, explores the pre-1940’s to late 60’s music scene, covering the life and times of the influential Chicago brothers Leonard and Phil Chess, and some of the blues artists who recorded for their label, Chess Records.

The film celebrates Cadillac Records, with Adrien Brody as Leonard Chess, and there’s a host of top actors and performers supporting the story, including Blues master Willie Dixon as Cedric the Entertainer and Mos Def as the legendary Chuck Berry. Columbus Short plays Little Walter, Jeffrey Wright is Muddy Waters, Eamonn Walker takes the place of Howlin’ Wolf, and Beyoncé plays the unforgettable diva Etta James.

 

Recent Blues History in Fiction

My friend and best-selling author Renee Rosen writes recent Chicago histories

in fiction form.

Chess Records Building

She’s currently working on a new novel about the Chicago Blues and Chess Records. It’s due out in fall 2016, and I can’t wait to read it.I do confess to some envy that she gets to spend so much time digging up the history of the Blues.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But maybe I shouldn’t be. Back in 2007 I edited the crime anthology Chicago Blues, a collection of noir stories by Sara Paretsky, Stuart Kaminsky, Max Allan Collins, Marcus Sakey, Sean Chercover, Joe Konrath, and more. Not only are these folks some of Chicago’s best crime fiction authors, but together they plumbed Chicago’s dark and sometimes desperate depths, including the Blues.

 

 

 

 

 

Blues-inspired Fine Art

But wait. There’s more. Fine Art America contains 6,805 works of Chicago blues art for sale, proving again just how popular the genre is and how wide its influence on the arts.

 

Sounds from some of the Greats

If you’re not familiar with Chicago Blues, here’s a tiny sampler:

• Howlin’ Wolf performing “Smokestack Lightning”, played live in England way back in 1964

• Muddy Waters playing live in Dortmund, Germany, in 1976

• An entire Etta James concert at the Newport Jazz Festival in 1991.

Want more? You’ll find a comprehensive list of Chicago Blues artists here, on Wikipedia ()

3 great Chicago Blues clubs

There are plenty of blues bars all over Chicago — I’m going to one this weekend. If you find yourself in town, here are three clubs I like a lot:

Blue Chicago in River North, which opened in 1985, focuses on local female blues vocalists like the amazing Shirley Johnson and Claudette Miller. It’s tiny, and has a cover, but it’s always packed.

B.L.U.E.S, another tiny place on Halsted, is wonderful, too. Much more authentic than its larger neighbor across the street. It claims to be the oldest Blues bar in the world. Well, certainly on the North Side of Chicago.

Rosa’s Lounge, on the West Side, is owned and run by local drummer Tony Mangiullo and his mother, Rose.

 

I hope You “Get” The Blues this winter.

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Special Offer: Pre-Order JUMP CUT For 99¢ & Get EYE FREE!

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For the first time in 10 years, Chicago video producer Ellie Foreman is back in Jump Cut, which will be published March 1. In this, the 5th mystery-thriller of the series, Ellie is producing a video for a giant Chicago aviation company. But she is soon entangled in a web of espionage, drones, hackers, and spies, all of which threaten those most dear to her. It’s been getting terrific reviews so far. Read more about it here.

Right now it’s on pre-order. Pre-orders are fast becoming a critical tool for readers and authors. For readers, pre-orders are like an insurance policy. You don’t have to remember to order it later and then, like me, forget to do it. And even if you do, a nice surprise shows up in your mailbox when the book comes out. For authors, pre-orders can help an author get picked up by search engines so that more readers can find the book.

There are two cool things you should know about the Jump Cut pre-order:

I’m only charging 99¢ for Jump Cut during the pre-order period. In March the price goes up to $4.99 or even 5.99. So it’s quite a deal if you pre-order now.

AND

If you pre-order and send your proof of purchase to pre-order@libbyhellmann.com, I will send you a download link for the first Ellie Foreman thriller, An Eye For Murder absolutely free! Nominated for the prestigious Anthony Award, EYE introduced Ellie, her family, and friends in a riveting mystery-thriller with roots that go back to World War Two.

The only thing I ask in return is that you share a few pre-written tweets and FB posts about the book. I’ll send you the info on that along with the link to EYE.

One novel for 99 cents; the other free…  That’s what I call a win-win. But you need to  pre-order now. This offer ends Feb.28  Here’s where to order:

Amazon

Kobo

iBooks

Barnes & Noble

 

And again, send your proof of purchase to pre-order@libbyhellmann.com so I can send you An Eye For Murder.

 

Thanks and Happy Reading!

 

 

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Jump Cut: Formal Cover Reveal

Happy New Year, everyone! Hope you’re looking forward to this year. I tend to do better in even years than odd… do you have a pattern like that? If so, which years are better for you?

I’m especially excited about this year, because, JUMP CUT, the 1st Ellie Foreman mystery/thriller in 10 years is coming out March 1. And to celebrate, I’m having a formal “Cover Reveal” tomorrow… on Goodreads here. However, there is ALSO a simultaneous cover reveal on several blogs via Goddess Fish Promotions. You can see which blogs you can hop over to here.

And what would a celebration be without prizes? Here they are: If you’re a Goodreads reader, and you add JUMP CUT to your TBR list and send me an email, I’ll enter you in a drawing for a signed print copy, which, if you win, will arrive before the March 1 release date.

And if you’d like to win a $50 Amazon (or other retailer) Gift Card, enter the Rafflecopter on blogs listed by Goddess Fish, which, as I mentioned, goes live tomorrow as well.

What the book is about:

Chicago video producer Ellie Foreman  is producing a video for the giant consumer airline manufacturer and defense contractor, Delcroft Aviation. Half way through production, she is fired. In an effort to find out why, Ellie is soon entangled in a web of espionage, drones, surveillance, file encryption, and Chinese spies… all of which threaten those she holds dear. Click here for more.

 Jump Cut has already received some fabulous reviews:

From spies to drones and hackers, Jump Cut is a heart-stopping tale of corporate espionage that will have you snapping on your seatbelt. The tangled web of international intrigue is riveting. Hellmann is a renowned master of suspense, and her great talent shows in the story’s many rich characters, the beautifully honed paragraphs, and the sweep of her provocative story. A keeper!”

—Gayle Lynds, New York Times best-selling author of The Assassins

“With spooks, spies, sudden death and double-crosses, Jump Cut hits all the right notes for a top-notch action thriller. Once again Ellie Foreman is a thoroughly likeable real-world heroine, fiercely protective of those she loves, thrown in at the deep end and swimming for her life. Don’t miss it!”

—Zoë Sharp, author of the Charlie Fox series and The Blood Whisperer

“Welcome back Ellie Foreman! Jump Cut rockets to a stunning but thrilling climax… Another winner from the standout Chicago novelist Libby Hellmann.”

—Paul Levine, author of Bum Rap

“After a long hiatus, Hellmann returns to her Chicago-based sleuth with a chilling tale that may be all too close to the truth.”

—Kirkus Reviews

Btw, I’d love you to pre-order Jump Cut. Pre-orders help a book no end. To thank you for pre-ordering, you’ll only pay 99¢ during the first week of release. Promise. Just ignore the list price if it shows more — I will lower the price before release day.

Again, to pre-order, go here: It’s widely available. Thanks.

And now… (drum roll, please)… here’s the cover!

 

 

 

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Binge Watch These Holiday Movies

So the holidays are now in full swing. For some it’s your favorite time of year. For others, it’s a few weeks to be endured.

In 2013 I ran a list of Binge-Watchable shows that are deliberately NOT about the holidays. I did that for those of you who want a respite from the holiday hustle and bustle and stress. If you’re new to my blog, do take a look at that column. All the shows are still available.

This time, though, I’m going to share my all-time favorite holiday films. Don’t worry – Miracle on 34th Street and It’s A Wonderful Life aren’t on the list. The ones on my list are all relatively recent, and most are family friendly. Plus, they’re generally cheerful, not insipid, and some of them are dead-to-rights funny. They’ll take the edge off anyone’s holiday stress. Promise. And they’re all available on Netflix, Amazon, or the public library. If you’re a library patron, reserve them today.

Love Actually

This is my go-to movie during the holidays. I never get tired of watching these delightful interwoven stories about couples who do or don’t find love over the holidays. Whether it’s Bill Nighy relaunching his career with a raunchy holiday version of “Love is All Around You;” Prime Minister Hugh Grant falling for his working class assistant, Natalie; Colin finding love in Wisconsin; or Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman facing the truth about their marriage, Love Actually has something for everyone. And those are only half the vignettes. Each one is captivating. And the last scene, with the multiplying split screens and the Beach Boys singing “God Only Knows” still makes me smile. This is a don’t miss movie.

Home Alone

Another Christmas classic, Home Alone, stars the young Macaulay Culkin in a John Hughes produced movie shot in Chicago (my home town). By accident he is left at home while the rest of the family goes to Paris for Christmas. Initially he enjoys being alone, eating what he wants, dancing with a cut-out of Michael Jordan, and pretending to shave. But then two burglars show up, played by the wonderful Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern. What ensues is a riot of unbelievable scenarios, laughs, and even slapstick as Kevin (Culkin) defends his home. As of 2009, Home Alone was the highest grossing comedy of all time. It is a not-to-be-missed family holiday event.

When Harry Met Sally

It’s hard to believe this film is twenty-five years old! Nora Ephron wrote and Rob Reiner directed Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan in a romantic comedy about two friends who, over a twelve year relationship, explore the question of whether a man and a woman can ever be “just friends.” If you’ve seen it, you know the answer. It’s not a holiday movie per se, but the important scenes take place on two consecutive New Years’ Eves, so I’m including it. The cast, with Carrie Fisher and Bruno Kirby are delightful, Meg Ryan is pre-face lift adorable, and Estelle Reiner, Rob’s mother has the best line in the movie. Btw, apparently, the entire scene in Katz’s Deli was suggested by Billy Crystal, and “improvised” by Meg Ryan. Great movie to watch, but the kids probably should be asleep when you do.

Bridget Jones’s Diary

The first Bridget Jones’s Diary, with Renée Zellweger, also in her pre-face lift incarnation, was, IMHO, the best of the bunch. Hugh Grant and Colin Firth, both of whom were in Love Actually, actually, vie for the hand of Bridget Jones, who’s a thirtyish woman looking for true love. The story is told very cleverly through Bridget’s diary, which reveals all her fears — insecurity about her weight, her inability to stick to one job, as well as other neuroses we women are plagued with. Hugh Grant plays Daniel Cleaver, a sexy cad, while Colin Firth plays the seemingly uptight Mark Darcy (get the Jane Austen connection?). Both get their fair share of insults and admiration in Bridget’s diary. The tease is with whom Bridget will ultimately end up. It takes place just before and during the holidays, and the sappy ending will surprise no one. Still, it’s a delightful escape from reality.

While You Were Sleeping

Put Sandra Bullock together with Bill Pullman, throw in Peter Boyle and Peter Gallagher and you’re bound to have an earnest, heart-warming comedy. While You Were Sleeping delivers. It first came out in 1995 and tells the story of Lucy, a CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) token collector with a crush on Peter Gallagher, who passes through her turn-style every morning. Of course, Lucy saves his life on Christmas morning when he is pushed onto the path of an oncoming train. She goes to the hospital with him and mentions to a nurse that she was going to marry him. The nurse assumes she’s Peter’s fiancée. Enter Peter’s brother, Bill Pullman, and you already know what’s going to happen. I won’t tell you, except to say it’s screwball comedy at its romantic best, Kathryn Hepburn notwithstanding. I recommend it highly. Leaves a sweet taste in your mouth. And it’s suitable for the whole family.

Joyeux Noel

Finally, here’s one the guys will like, too. I like it because it’s historical and it’s based on a true story. The story: during World War I soldiers on the front lines of the war (the French, Scots and Germans) suspended hostilities on Christmas Eve of 1914. Across a field from each other, both sides sang holiday carols to the other. The truce only lasted a day; after Christmas they resumed fighting. (Can you imagine that happening today?)

At any rate, the 2005 French film based on that truce follows six people, four of them soldiers before, during, and after. The other two characters are singers who decide to perform on the German front lines over the holiday. As one of them starts to sing “Silent Night,” they realize they are being accompanied by a Scottish bagpiper from the other side. One thing leads to another, and the soldiers meet in no man’s land at the center of the field and declare a cease fire. Then they share chocolate, champagne, photos of loved ones, and more. There’s a lot more to the story, including class struggles and family problems that aren’t as benevolent, but it’s a terrific film and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Plus, the film features one of my favorite European actors, Diane Kruger (She plays the lead on the US version of “The Bridge.”)

Hope Your Holidays are warm, peaceful, and filled with the people and things you love.

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The All-Important All-Mighty First Sentence

When you pick up a book for the first time, and the first line grabs you by the—er– throat, you know you’re in for a great ride. As a reader there’s nothing quite as exciting as a line that makes the hairs on your neck rise, or makes you laugh unexpectedly, or intrigues you so much you’re hooked.

So you can probably imagine the effort, stress, and headaches authors go through to create them. Getting the first line right is one of the most important factors in writing a story people genuinely can’t put down. How do we do it?

How to create a legendary first line

First lines are all about creating suspense. It doesn’t matter whether you’re writing a romance, a thriller, sci-fi, or a literary novel, the first line must grab a reader and force them to read on. It poses a question, presents an unresolved situation, or describes something either so beautiful or odious that we are captured.

It doesn’t always come at the start of the writing process. Sometimes I write my first line well after I’ve finished the book, because it’s not until then that I actually know what the book is about and how to hook readers in those crucial first milliseconds.

“Hook” is the operative word, btw. It could be a line of dialogue, a piece of narrative, or a character’s action. That doesn’t matter. What matters is the emotional impact. Reader should immediately get the tone of the book: whether it’s dark or funny, pensive or action-oriented, quiet or brazen. It should present an idea or opportunity or question that forces readers advance to the second line, the third, the fourth until they’re so into the story they can’t back out… and don’t want to.

Start in “Media Res”

I dive right in and start in the middle of things. Often it means forcing my readers catch up with what’s gone on before, or, (and this is harder) imagine what’s gone on before. Whether it’s real or imaginary, I try to write a sentence that makes it impossible to put the book down. The reader knows something’s going on but they’re not quite sure what. It creates an irresistible situation.

Bear in mind that the first line doesn’t need to be ponderous or weighty. There’s no need to sacrifice humor. A first line can be as witty, tongue-in-cheek, or provocative as one wants, as long as it has the power to drive a reader forward.



A few words about prologues

Some people love them, some hate them. But when should a writer use them?

A prologue can be very effective, especially when it describes an event in the past that will have a significant effect on the characters in the present. On the other hand, if your prologue is starting to look an awful lot like a backstory, delete it. If it’s morphed into something in between or you’re not really sure what function it’s meant to have, you can always change it by simply crossing out the word ‘prologue’ and make it Chapter One instead.

Some of My Favorite First Lines

Here are some first lines I think are pretty good.

“Some women give birth to murderers, some go to bed with them, and some marry them.” Before The Fact, by Francis Iles (the inspiration for Hitchcock’s Suspicion)

For a week, the feeling had been with him, and all week long young Paul LeBeau had been afraid.” Iron Lake, William Kent Krueger

“I was trapped in a house with a lawyer, a bare-breasted woman, and a dead man. The rattlesnake in the paper sack only complicated matters.” Fat Tuesday, by Earl Emerson

“My bodyguard was mowing the yard wearing her pink bikini when the man fell from the sky.” Dead Over Heels by Charlaine Harris

“The man with ten minutes to live was laughing.” The Fist of God by Frederick Forsyth

“The small boys came early to the hanging.” Pillars Of The Earth by Ken Follett

And my all time favorite:

“I turned the Chrysler onto the Florida Turnpike with Rollo Kramer’s headless body in the trunk, and all the time I’m thinking I should have put some plastic down.” Gun Monkeys by Victor Gischler.

Your best-loved first line?

What’s your favorite first line? Why?

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