Treason at Hanford: A Harry Truman Mystery - Chapter 6 online

For your Thursday enjoyment, Chapter 6 of Treason at Hanford: A Harry Truman Mystery is now available over at Texas Pulp Writer.

Enjoy.

Happy Birthday Bookgasm

The good folks over at Bookgasm are celebrating their 3rd birthday today. If, for not other reason, you certainly have to click on over to their site for the fancy new masthead. It sums up everything they do nicely...and without words.

Bookgasm has become essential reading for me when checking up on the latest in SF, fantasy, mystery, comics, and horror. And, of course, it is the home of the feature I read each Wednesday: Bullets, Broads, Blackmail, and Bombs.

Go on over, take a look around, and then put Bookgasm in your Google Reader. You won't be disappointed.

Excellent The Dawn Patrol Review

Cameron Hughes, over at January Magazine, has an excellent review of Don Winslow's The Dawn Patrol. He covers things I don't--and he's a native of San Diego--so go check it out.

While you're there, check out the rest of January Magazine. I usually frequent only the crime fiction section but, if the quality of the material in the crime section is any indication, the rest of the magazine should also shine.

Book Review: The Dawn Patrol by Don Winslow

Epic macking crunchy.

That is the term, in Surfbonics, a character in Don Winslow’s The Dawn Patrol uses to describe the big wave that is approaching the beaches of San Diego. It’s a once-per-twenty-years ocean eruption that makes and breaks careers and that every surfer worth his weight in sunscreen comes to So Cal to experience. And it’s all Boone Daniels wants.

Except Boone, a PI who works just enough to pay some bills, has a new case. It’s a case he doesn’t want. He’ll happily get to it after the big swell. But his client—drop-dead gorgeous Brit Petra—is having none of it. So, Boone has to stow his board and wave bye-bye to the other members of the Dawn Patrol—a group that meets every morning to surf—to go look for a lost stripper who needs to testify in an upcoming trial.

From that seemingly inauspicious beginning, Winslow throws the reader into the world of southern California. And what a tour it is. I happened upon The Dawn Patrol (TDP) because I vacationed in San Diego and wanted to read something criminal in nature and local. I decided against TDP largely because I didn’t have time to buy the book. It’s a good thing, too, for Winslow as Tour Guide permeates this book like the smell of sunscreen at a beach. He gives you the experience of surf culture in So Cal without having ever been there. Folks as far away as Iceland are going to want to chuck off the parkas, pick up a board, and cut through the waves. Having visited the locations of TDP in June, I thoroughly enjoyed Boone and his friends traverse the locales I did. But the beauty of TDP is that you don’t have to know what the Pacific Coast Highway is to enjoy the story. It is a rush. It is like a wave, an epic macking crunchy one, powering its way into your brain.

The style of Winslow’s writing propels the story forward using the present tense and short chapters. I really liked that style and found it way too easy to just read (or listen, as I did) to a few more chapters. Every now and then, Winslow stops the action to give a brief history of a portion of San Diego. Those really make the book, especially his short dissertation on what constitutes a wave. There are books where the author does his best to get out of the way and just present the story. That’s the Elmore Leonard School of Writing. It works. But TDP was like Winslow himself telling you the story, sitting across from a beach bonfire from you, the waves lapping the beach a few yards away, the sun a distant memory, the stars the only other listeners. And it worked brilliantly.

The members of the Dawn Patrol—Hang Twelve, Dave the Love God, Johnny Banzai, High Tide, and Sunny Day—are priceless. Each member gets his or her own bio at just the appropriate time in the book. Hang Twelve, a young surfing fanatic, has his name bestowed on him by Boone for the very reason you’d suspect. Ditto Dave the Love God, a lifeguard on Pacific Beach who, according to Johnny Banzai, has been “spread over more tourist flesh than Bain de Soleil.” Banzai, a SDPD detective, is Japanese-American and if you’re a Japanese-American, according to Winslow, who is “a seriously radical, nose-first, balls-out, hard-charging surfer, you’re just going to get glossed either with ‘Kamikaze’ or ‘Banzai,’ you just are.” High Tide is Samoan and I’ll give you one guess as to his size and his sobriquet. Sunny Day, the lone female of the bunch, is “a force of nature—tall, long-legged—Sunny is exactly what Brian Wilson meant when he wrote that he wished they all could be California girls.” With a group like this, who wouldn’t want to go along for an adventure.

Except the adventure in question gets deadly, and in a hurry. And the choices certain characters make puts them at odds with other members of the Dawn Patrol. As a reader, I didn’t want Character A to do something because Character B would have to fight it. But as a writer, I realized that all the actions of all the characters are precisely correct. These folks are real people who make real, yet sometimes, difficult decisions. They live with the consequences but their choice, based on their character, was perfectly aligned. That is a good lesson in storytelling.

The benefit of the quick, short chapters that Winslow uses is that the action can jump from once set of characters to another in the space of half a page. I liked it, while some other readers may prefer longer chapters. But the quick cuts eliminates the painstaking ‘recap’ where an author has to write something like this: “Just as Bob was blasting through a door, half a city away, Jane woke with a start.” It’s just easier Winslow’s way.

The quick cuts also allows Winslow the flexibility to juxtapose sad scenes with happy scenes, or scenes of calm with scenes of high anxiety. There is a sequence of events, late in the book, where something good and exciting is happening and something bad and exciting is simultaneously happening. I could give all sorts of excuses—it was morning, I was tired, I hadn’t had a complete cup of java yet, the rising sun hit my face at just the right time—but I’ll just confess to the obvious: I felt the sting of tears and goose bumps at a certain scene. Winslow had set a pace of actions and expectations that overcame me at a certain moment. The tears didn’t leave my eyes but my contacts certainly felt more comfortable. I’ll not say if it was tears of joy or sadness. You’ll have to read to find out.

I’ve spoken before about audiobooks but this is one you simply must listen to. Ray Porter gives a fantastic performance. For most of the men, he adopts a surfer voice that puts you right there next to them. For Petra, the British gal, he adopts a lilting English accent. It was spectacular.

Early on the in the book, the Dawn Patrol have an ongoing List of Things That Are Good. Included are such topics as double overheads, free stuff, fish tacos, and all-female outrigger canoe teams. You have to read the entire list and scene because it’s quite hilarious. In crime fiction, there is also the List of Authors That Are Good. I’m compiling my own list, two actually. There’s the Classic Authors That Are Good (familiar names: Hammett, Chandler, Miller, Keene, Block) and then there’s the New Authors That Are Good (new names: Lehane, Pelecanos, Faust, Swiercznski, Bruen, Guthrie). Guess what? Winslow just got himself on the list. Read The Dawn Patrol and tell me if that book isn’t epic macking crunchy.

What I Learned As A Writer: I can be obsessive about POV. For some reason, I keep thinking that POV is set, structured, and shouldn’t change in the middle of a chapter. Leonard does it, J. D. Robb, too, and it’s sometimes distracting. Winslow did it all over the place, but, for some reason, I could follow it. Moreover, it all made sense. With so many characters (The six members of The Dawn Patrol plus something like six or seven more characters) it could have been confusing. But Winslow gives you little cues that alert you to a POV change. It’s not confusing at all. In fact, as the pace picked up, I found myself wanting the POV change just to see how a certain character was reacting to events on the inside. I’m not sure I can make a wholesale change in my thinking—copying some other author’s style is only a way to learn—but I’ll certainly incorporate some of the technique in my second book, Justice in H-Town.

New Christa Faust Interview

Christa Faust, via her website, has linked us to her latest interview. Always entertaining.

Money quote regarding a writing career (re: her novelizations of movies):

You can spend the rest of your life going to writing classes and critique circles, tweaking and polishing your great American novel that no one will ever read, or you can bang out 95,000 words in six sleepless weeks and make your bones as a pro. That was the best education I ever had.

On research:

Forget the damn internet, the best research for any writer can be achieved simply by being a good listener. If you're respectful and willing to listen, you can get almost anyone to open up about almost anything.

Music Review: Chicago Transit Authority

First albums can be tricky and they usually come in one of two forms: fully-formed or the first step to something else. Take Bruce Springsteen, one of my favorite rockers. While his first two records (Greetings from Asbury Park and The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle) are good records for what they are, you could argue that it was only with his third record, Born to Run, that Bruce arrived. That is, he got on record what all the fuss about his live shows was all about. The same holds true for David Bowie, Genesis, Peter Gabriel (solo), and other rock acts throughout the years.

In the former category, certain acts spring from the speakers fully formed. The Beatles come to mind. Hendrix of course. The Doors, the Police. The first records by these bands grab you by the collar and force you to reckon with them. This is what we are. We hope enjoy it. But if you don’t, get out of the way because someone else behind you does.

This attitude is what is brimming over during the 12-song sequence that is Chicago Transit Authority (1969). Regardless of all the changes that have occurred in the past forty years, the eponymous Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) was, and still is, a force to be reckoned with. Some long-time listeners hear CTA now and lament the loss of one of the tightest bands in rock history. The seven members of Chicago, all in their early twenties, excelled at their instruments but, combined, created something greater than the sum of its parts. It created something magical. And it’s all there for the listening.

When one thinks of Chicago, the one differentiator is the horn section. When the seven guys met, they had one mission: create a rock band with horns. Sure, other bands had horn sections but they were usually relegated to playing riffs in the background. Not so the trio of Walter Parazaider (saxes), Lee Loughnane (trumpet), and James Pankow (trombone). Together, they made up the fourth “voice” of Chicago, alongside Terry Kath’s soulful cry, Robert Lamm’s smooth-as-silk voice, and Peter Cetera’s clear-as-day tenor. Together on CTA, these four voices take you on a whirlwind tour of what is possible in music. And it all starts with an introduction.

“Introduction” is my favorite Chicago song. Period. End of story. And it’s the first track on side one of CTA. It’s a biography song, sung by Terry Kath, that lets the listener know who Chicago is and what they are all about. This one song almost has it all (the only things missing are Lamm’s and Cetera’s vocals). After two verses, you get this great syncopated rhythmic bridge by the horns over Danny Seraphine’s wildly improvisational drumming. After a short break, the song segues into a nice ballad with the lead “vocal” handled by Pankow and his trombone. Loughnane’s trumpet picks up where Pankow ends, melodiously taking the listener through an imagined summer landscape. And, lest you think Cetera is only a good singer of ballads, just listen to his moving and melodic bass lines throughout this slow section. All of this is merely prelude to Chicago’s ace in the hold: Terry Kath’s frenetic guitar work. This is where words like blistering and scorching come to mind as Kath gives the listener merely a taste of what’s to come on the rest of the record. The rest of the song returns to a last chorus and then, the coup de grace: all seven instruments (including keyboards) join in on a final chord. The essence of Chicago is really all there, in one song. The cool thing is Chicago gave you 11 more ‘bonus’ tracks.

Lamm’s piano skills are featured in the intro to “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?”, a concert staple since the 60s and one of the most fun songs Chicago has ever recorded. “Beginnings” is next, with Lamm’s silky vocals hovering over Kath’s 12-string guitar strumming. Beautiful as a California beach. “Questions 67 and 68” establishes Cetera’s tenor as a counter to Lamm and Kath and demonstrates, again, how the horns form the fourth voice.

The twofer of “Poem 58” and “Free Form Guitar” are a one-two punch in the gut at the brilliance of Terry Kath’s guitar playing. “Poem 58” is a ten-minute guitar jam surrounding a Lamm-sung love song. The background vocals of “I Do Love You” stayed in their subconscious, reemerging on the next record in “In the Country.” “Free Form Guitar.” What can you say about that? It’s six minutes of Kath, a guitar, and amp, and noise. It’s a shot over the bow at the rock world saying that Hendrix and Jimmy Page, as brilliant as they were, were not the only guitar gods out there.

“South California Purples” is a straight-ahead blues jam, here featuring Lamm’s improve skills on the electric organ. After you have listened to the album version for awhile, check out the 15-minute versions on the fourth album, Chicago at Carnegie Hall. Back in 2003 when they remastered the Carnegie album, Chicago added a fourth disc of bonus material. There’s a second version of “South California Purples,” also clocking in close to fifteen minutes. It’s a treatise on guitar soloing and band cohesiveness. Chicago’s Latin-tinged cover of Traffic’s “I’m a Man”—complete with a 64-measure drum solo—shows off their ability to take someone else’s song and make it their own.

The track “Someday,” the second-to-last song, shows off a side of Chicago that was prominent in the early days but has gone by the wayside in the years since: political commentary. Yes, the band that sings about inspiration, hard habits to break, and big surprises used to talk about bringing down the system. Don’t think so? How about this quote from the liner notes of Chicago II: “With this album, we dedicate ourselves, our futures and our energies to the people of the revolution. And the revolution in all of it's forms.”

“Someday” starts with a recording of the chants outside the Democratic convention in Chicago 1968. The chants—“The whole world is watching”—has its own rhythm which seamlessly blends into the opening drum beats of the song. The chanting reemerges later in the song, giving the listener the impression that Chicago the band agrees with the spirit of the black militants outside the convention hall getting beaten by the police. Some modern listeners will be sad that spirit died in Chicago. But look around. That spirit, the spirit of openness, of change, of the belief that the young really can change the world, died everywhere, not just in a band that now frequents the adult contemporary charts rather than the college music charts. The world changed, but Chicago persevered. (The chanting reemerges in the song "All the Years," on their just-released album, Stone of Sisyphus. Here in this song, Lamm mourns the loss of that late-60s spirit and the opportunities lost.)

The last track is the coup de grace of CTA. “Liberation” is a 14-minute guitar jam. And I don’t use that word “jam” lightly. If Kath’s guitar work throughout the album teased at his prowess, if “Poem 58” and “Free Form Guitar” was a one-two punch, “Liberation” is the knock-out blow. Just listen. You'll hear Kath going everywhere, trying different things, and Serephine’s drumming, Lamm’s keyboard riffs, and Cetera’s fantastic bass playing going along for the ride. The horns are mostly absent from this tour de force. But that’s okay. This is Kath’s time to shine and boy, does he shine brightly. As the song ends and you exhale, only then realizing you were holding your breath, read the liner notes about this song and you’ll find a whole new meaning of awe: This track was recorded entirely live. The performance embodied in this recording is complete and uncut.

One note on the recording itself. I don’t know recording technology at all but the sound quality is such that you get the impression all seven guys were in the same room at the same time recording these songs. It’s a quality that isn’t there starting with Chicago II and onward and it certainly isn’t there in modern music. You get the organic listening experience with CTA. It’s one to cherish.

If you have one Chicago CD in your collection, don’t let it be a greatest hits compilation. You can hear all of those songs on the radio. Buy Chicago Transit Authority. Buy it for the great songs, the great vocals, the soaring horn charts, the frenetic guitar work. Buy it for the spirit of the times that wrapped up seven guys and made something special.

In an age where we all make lists (favorite movies, TV shows, books) and those lists often change and vary, Chicago Transit Authority has been my favorite Chicago album for years now. Once I was old enough to understand what they were trying to put down on tape—magic and time in a bottle—I realized how special CTA really was. And is. You just can’t escape the feel of this record. I was alive, barely, when this album was released but the spirit of the times lives on through this recording.

I have attempted to write my impressions of CTA but, honestly, the liner notes of their producer, James William Guercio, do a much better job of it. I’ll end with his quote:

The purpose of this commentary, however, is an attempt at documenting the complete rejection of any name label, title or verbal reference relative to the performance contained herein. Corporately as well as individually, this artist endeavors to be judged in terms of contribution alone rather than through the tag affixed upon it. The printed word can never aspire to document a truly musical experience, so if you must call them something, speak of the city where all save one were born; where all of them were schooled and bred, and where all of this incredible music went down barely noticed; call them CHICAGO.

Footnote: Once you’ve listened to CTA a few times, head on over to Wolfgang’s Archive and take a listen to a 17 August 1969 recording of Chicago at the Fillmore West. It’s a gorgeous soundboard recording of the tunes from CTA as well as “new” songs they’re still working on for their next album, including “25 or 6 to 4,” still the epitome of a rock band with horns. What you can also discover with the new songs is the band still working out the kinks and arrangements. For example, “Poem for the People” at the Fillmore is sung by Cetera. The official album version a year later has Lamm singing his own song.

SF Signal: Updated web page

The good folks over at SF Signal have updated their web page's look. Go on over and let'em know what you think. I have them in my Google Reader and they are my source for daily SF news and tidbits.

Duane Swierczynski and Bill Crider

Bill Crider, local Texas author, also attended the Duane Swierczynski talk at Murder by the Book. He shot a few minutes of video and you can see it here, at his blog.

If you want humorous stories, usually with a Texas twist, and really cool old movie trailers, plug in his blog address (http://billcrider.blogspot.com/) to your Google Reader. You'll enjoy it every day.

Duane Swierczynski and Inspiration

I went to see Duane Swierczynski Saturday at Murder by the Book. I got to talk with him a little before his 4:30pm talk. Fan Boy Moment: when I introduced myself to him, he remembered me from my comment on his blog. Moreover, he thanked me for the review of his book, Severance Package, I posted on my regular Tuesday book review feature. That was, to say the least, quite cool.

Then, David Thompson of MBTB, came over and the three of us chatted for a few minutes. Since I was wearing my Chicago tee shirt, David mentioned that he’d read the first page of the short story I write back in 1998 about incorporating Chicago songs into a story. All in all, a good experience.

Swierczynski’s talk was good. He riffed on the differences between mystery readers and comic book readers (mystery readers are much nicer), what it’s like to write novels with your own characters and write comics with established characters, and the other exciting opportunities he’s had with his writing. I don't know his entire bio but it seems like he's now able to write his own material full-time since he mentioned quitting his day job at a Philadelphia magazine.

I've met a few writers at MBTB and there's something about meeting writers during book signings that is simply neat. It's visible proof that they are regular people, just like you and me. Sure, big-time movie stars are people, too, but writers don't usually have entourages. Writers are just folks, happy that you turned out to meet them and hear them talk, gracious that you're holding one of their books. Swierczynski is just like that: nice, kind, gracious.

When I mentioned that I was working on my second novel and that my first book, although agented, has yet to find a publisher, Swierczynski commiserated. His first novel, Secret Dead Men, gestated a long time before it was published. Eight years I think he said. But here's what really struck home and is the reason I'm sitting at my computer on a Saturday night writing instead of watching the Olympics: Love What You Write. After he wrote that first book and it didn't sell, he wrote more books, books about what got him jazzed up: a mute getaway driver, a businessman whose drink has been poisoned, or a public relations guy who discovers his boss wants to kill him. Swierczynski enjoyed the stories, wrote the books, and, guess what? They got published. He didn't care about what might sell. He wrote for the first reader: himself.

Which brings me to my writing career, to date. I wrote Treason at Hanford, my Harry Truman story, and I loved it. Each night, when I sat down to write, I was excited about it and I wanted to know what happened next...and I *knew* what happened next. I fell in love with my book. And the folks who have read it (not all family or close friends, mind you) have commented on the passion of the story. There's a part of the book, 3/4 of the way in, when all different groups of characters are starting to put two-and-two together. I got butterflies in my stomach *writing* it and I still get them every time I read those chapters. They may not be great, but they darn sure satisfied me.

What am I trying to say, to myself or any wannabe writers out there? Don't over think the story. That's been my problem with book #2, my own sophomore slump. Just friggin' write the thing. Write it because you love it. If I don't love it, it'll show in the prose and no one else will care about it.

Thanks to David and McKenna and the good folks at Murder by the Book for making their wonderful store the place where writers and reader can meet. Thanks to Mr. Swierczynski for coming down to Houston and giving some Texans a chance to meet you. And thanks for helping me off the mat. You probably didn't even know it but you gave me the kick in the ass I needed to fine-tune the focus on my second book and finish it.

Hugo Awards Announced

The good folks over at SF Signal have posted the Hugo Award winners.

Michael Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union won for novel. But the work I enjoyed more was Ted Chaing's "The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate." This novelette has got to be one of the best time travel stories I've ever read or seen. You can read it online via the link above OR you can get the audio here at Starship Sofa. I listened to it and the reader is quite good.

Please do yourself a favor and listen or read this story. It's fantastic.

Olympics Opening Ceremony

Not crime related but who cares. Did y'all see those opening ceremonies on NBC Friday night? Holy Cow! They were gorgeous. My favorite moments were when all those folks popped of of the boxes, revealing that it was human timing and coordination not mechanical programming that made those kick-ass shapes. When the LCD 'scroll' appeared. When the dancers with the lights on their uniforms did their thing. And when Li Ning 'ran' around the stadium. Tres cool!

Most moving moment was when Yao Ming, Chinese flag bearer, came out with that little boy, Lin Hao. Hao crawled out from the rubble of his school--where half his class perished--but then crawled back in to rescue two more classmates. When asked why, he said he was hall monitor and that was his job. Very somber yet heartwarming.

Biggest issue I had was no female commentator. It was Bob Costas (always good at these things) and Matt Lauer (always good, too). But during the parade of nations, with all the cool clothes, NBC needed a female voice.

This morning, I got to show the boy what the Olympics are all about. Mariel Zagunis won the gold medal in fencing. I showed the boy what happens: you get a medal, your flag is raised, and your national anthem is played. Zagunis obliged by tearing up (who wouldn't?). Not sure it registered with the boy but I have 15 more days.

Man, I dig the Olympics!

You can go over to MSNBC for some video links. Check them out.