SWITCHING GEARS

Is it possible for a writer to scavenge their own works? Let me tell you a story of a work in progress.

My first published work (and by that I mean first book published through a traditional publisher, a small press in Texas) was a work of contemporary crime fiction called “Swan Song”. It was described as a neo-noir hardboiled mystery. It was mostly derivative in nature but had some good set pieces. You’ll never know, because unless you bought a copy, you can’t get one now: It is out of print with limited availability. (I’d let you borrow mine if I could ensure I would get it back.)

What it did for me was to start me on a path as a fiction writer who learned how to work alongside publishers. After another less than stellar effort, I turned my attention toward historical crime fiction. I knew I didn’t have what it took to match others in terms of contemporary crime work with aspects associated with computers and lab analytics. As it was, I wanted to focus on the people, the characters, and their motivations.

I felt the original plot of “Swan Song” to be worthwhile. It involved a former cop in Wichita who was framed, left the force of his own volition, and went far out of town where he got involved with some less than morally upright folks. A mysterious phone call insinuates his younger brother is in some kind of jeopardy and he returns to find out what and why.

Conceptually, it had something intriguing about it, not completely a crime caper and not quite a thriller. However, I was so immersed in historical works that I had no desire to revise it in its current state. Unless, of course, I reconfigured it to take place in the 1930’s. There would be a telegram instead of a phone call, a train journey as opposed to a reckless car ride on the interstate, and different nefarious characters from a different time period.

I worked on it for about a year from August of 2021 to October of 2022, getting three rough drafts having used the original book as a kind of template. It didn’t quite fall apart but neither did it resonate with the emotional intensity and, for lack of a better expression, the speed of the earlier work. Perhaps it is more of a thriller and I will need to shift gears once again.

But, at the very least, I had found a way of using leftovers to create a new stew. Stale bread which could make croutons. A nearly empty bottle of catsup to concoct a remoulade. It is more of an act of re-creating but just as significant a challenge as starting from scratch.