By John Gilstrap

Sometimes, the writer’s life is about not writing. Sometimes, it’s about celebrating your wife’s birthday with a two-week trip to Greece. I am writing this from the airport hotel in Athens awaiting my flight home, where I will once again face the reality of holy crap! I’ve got a deadline coming way too fast! But for now, I’ll just share some pictures.

Oh! And wouldn’t you know it? On our first night in Athens, dining al fresco at the base of the Acropolis, my Hollywood agent called with news of yet another option on Six Minutes to Freedom. That in itself was a kind of Hollywood moment.

Now, on with the photos!

Dining on the streets of Athens. My agent called with news of the film option about three minutes after I took this picture of my bride. It was about 10 pm Greek time, noon Los Angeles time.

Mykonos is known as a party town, but the parties hadn’t started when we were there. In Late April, it’s just a series of beautiful villages on the Aegean.

This is the view from our room in (on?) the island of Santorini, by far the most beautiful location of our trip.

Proof that I was on the trip, too. And that we actually touched the Aegean Sea. Too cold for my tastes, the two boys just out of frame would certainly disagree.

Sunset in Santorini.

Our final stop was the island of Crete, where we didn’t leave nearly enough time to do it justice. We did tour the 7,000-year-old ruins of the Palace of Knossos, the historical roots of the Minoan culture. The foundations you see are original, much of the rest is reconstruction. This place had running water, folks, and history’s first flushing toilet!

By PJ Parrish

Morning folks. I am probably somewhere over Lake Erie right now, heading to New York for my annual gig as Edgar banquet chairman. So forgive me if I can’t engage in the usual dialogue here. In my place, here’s a gallery of this year’s Edgar nominees book covers.

Normally, I show you these to spotlight any trends in cover design. But I don’t see any clear direction in how book art is moving. Maybe there are no solid trends anymore. There used to be. Back in my salad days, BIG serif typefaces were the rage, usually with a small graphic that was supposed to somehow signify the book’s theme or such. Such as in my early Louis Kincaid books:

This was defnitely an attempt at branding, very uber-Patterson. Many, many other mysteries had the same look back in the early 2000s. But today, it seems to my eye at least, there is much more variety and less follow-the-leadering. Perhaps it is because the writing/subject matter in crime fiction is more small-c catholic these days?

Take a look at the covers for this year’s Best Novel:

To my eye, the designs are very diverse — everything from the “traditional” lyrical design of Burke and Krueger to the hyper-graphic neon of Knoll and Whitehead. Koryta’s and Cosby’s covers look similar — bold san-serif type with that “old-fashioned” graphic element. And Edstein’s red cover seems out there on its own island, an attempt perhaps to suggest a more literary upmarket tilt? (Yeah, I hate the term upmarket too, but that does seem to be a trend of late).

Compare that group with the Lilian Jackson Braun nominees. (Caveat: This, like the Mary Higgins Clark Award and Sue Grafton Award, are not Edgars, but special auxiliary awards). The Braun nominees:

No way can a reader mistake these books for hardboiled, right? They clearly reflect Braun’s legacy. Mystery Writers of America is very clear on what qualifies for this award: “The book must be a contemporary cozy mystery with a current-day setting and the story emphasis on solving a crime, usually a murder. Historical mysteries, even if cozy in tone, do not qualify. However, the book may contain some historical elements (flashbacks, journal entries, etc.) as long as the emphasis is on the contemporary investigation of the mystery.” (There’s more VERY specific criteria if you want to read it — link here.)

Likewise, the Best Juvenile nominees this year are all of a sort. These covers convey a child-like exhuberance and, like an ice cream triple-scooper, invite you to taste. It’s easy to identify the intended age audience:

Compare that with the very dark mood seen among most the Best Young Adult nominees. Any of these covers could be comfortable among Best Novel category:

Just curious: What do you all think about that last blue cover Just Do This One Thing For Me? When I first saw it, I thought it was cropped wrong. But no, this is the full cover, intended to mimic an iphone, of course. I dunno…I find it hard to read. But then again, I’m not thirteen. At Staples yesterday, I had to get Brian’s help to find a lousy printer cord. (I had bought a modem cable by mistake).

One last category before I go. I was struck by the variety among the Paperback Original nominees this year. Usually, they tend to look alike, or at least as if they are from the same family. Maybe this is because PBO’s, being smaller, have to scan faster for the readers’ eyes. This year, they seem all over the place, mood-wise.

I like the creepy Cape Fear look of Boomtown. The cover defnitely conveys a sense of place and mood. I don’t think the cover of Hide is as successful because its geographic image is so generic.  The Taken Ones has a certain tension, thanks to that ragged type face. Lowdown Road gets the signature Hard Case Crime treatment — you know you’re in neo-noir land. I’m not crazy about the Vera Wong cover. It feels like it belongs with the Braun entries, although the old peeking lady image is kind of cool. One reviewer called it perfect for readers looking for “more humor than angst.” I haven’t read the book, so what do I know?

There you go….covers for every taste. Your own takeaway here — if you are doing your own covers or hiring someone to do so — is just be very aware of what audience you’re aiming for (age group, traditional vs noir, light vs dark, humor vs deadly serious). Respect your sub-genre if necessary (ie Braun). Make sure your cover captivates possible readers AND that it captures the mood and theme of your story.

Oh, and pay attention to how it looks when it’s reduced down to a tiny thumbnail on Amazon. But that’s a blog for another day. See you when I get back.

I seldom turn down the opportunity to speak, and more than once there’s a monetary loss for gas and even a hotel room to make those events. Civic organizations, book clubs, and groups such as retired teachers or other professional organizations all have me on their annual speakers lists, and at first I thought that was a problem, because prepared speeches aren’t my thing. I didn’t want to bore them with the same talk time after time.

Watching someone stand in front of a room, reading from a script is mind numbing. Those folks are usually nervous, or unfamiliar with public speaking and it’s obvious in the way they stand and present their talk, barely looking up from their notes or pages.

That kind of thing would be a disaster for me, and like the way I write, when I give a talk I have no idea where I’m going until I get there.

Calls came in right after my first novel released back in 2011 to come talk about The Rock Hole. Having been a classroom teacher for ten years, I knew I could stand in front of a crowd and hold their attention, because if you can keep a class full of middle school students’ interest for fifty minutes, you’re a speaker.

I disremember if that first group was Kiwanis, or Lions, or Rotary, to name a few. It was a luncheon event, though, and I stepped up to the lectern and simply followed one story or idea after the other as I recounted the disastrous road to publication I’d just endured. Folks laughed at the right places, showed concern when I told them of losing my first manuscript, and clapped with enthusiasm when the story came to full circle with a tender surprise.

Oh, wait, but first let’s Let’s start with the basics and clear something up. People often confuse lectern with rostrum, podium, and dais. Personally, I’d prefer not to stand behind any of them, because I tend to move around.

A lectern is the slant-top high desk a speaker uses to read presentation notes. I prefer not to use the term lecture, because I’m a storyteller, but to remember what you’re hiding behind in that sense, think the word “lecture.”

Sometimes large audiences require a podium, which is a raised platform that places you higher than those staring upward at you with blank, expectant faces. Hint, quickly find the friendliest face in the room. He or she might be smiling, or nodding, or changing expressions as your talk proceeds. Use them as a yardstick and an anchor if you feel as if the room is drifting away.

And then there’s the rostrum or dias, which is a larger platform, or maybe a stage, on which a head table is placed during a formal dinner. You’re usually smack in the middle of those dignitaries who invited you, and a trick is to talk to them as well as the audience in order to engage those who are sitting up there with you. Make eye contact, and they’ll appreciate you even more.

As a repeat speaker for annual events, I can’t use the exact same talk each time. Right after I started this journey, I once looked out over an audience that was strangely familiar, and then realized they were a mix of organizations I’d talked to in the past few months. I sure didn’t want to tell them the same stories, so I had to adapt and improvise, to steal from Clint Eastwood’s Sergeant Highway in Heartbreak Ridge.

That was the day I realized that audiences don’t want to be lectured, but prefer to be entertained. As authors, we can stand in front of those people (some of whom are looking at their watches) and talk about outlining, character building, and motivation. But for the most part, the members of these organizations aren’t writers, they’re a captive group who’ve been subjected to countless lectures on everything from recycling to what kind of fertilizer to use on Bermuda grass.

That’s where stories come in and we become entertainers in still another sense. I don’t have any particular ideas written down to use as notes, but I’ll talk about what comes to mind and tie it all together with something to make the audience laugh.

Like the night John Gilstrap and I went out on a Florida beach at midnight after a conference to finish off a bottle of brown water only to find the resort chained and locked that return access at some point and we had to climb over a fence to get in. And for me, that fence somehow undulated like the ocean we’d been watching as I attempted to vault over it like I was a kid. I wound up hanging halfway over it like a deer strapped to the hood of a truck.

Getting John over involved curses, grunts, groans, and threats, all of which came from him.

Or the day at another conference when Lee Child told me a shocking story about a woman who’d been faking his signature on his books until she had the opportunity to get a genuine John Henry that made her so proud she admitted to being a forger. That was a two-part story, but I only hard half because a conference official took his hand and led him away to “bend his ear” for a while and he looked back at me like a dog headed for the pound.

Or back to Gilstrap again when he and I were in a crowd of thriller and mystery writers at eight in the morning when two hookers came through the hotel lobby and asked us for directions to the ladies room. Speechless for once, John pointed, and followed by their pimps, the “ladies of the morning” wove without notice through the oblivious authors who make their living about crimes and criminals. Fascinated, John and I followed them down a hall to watch their fighting men keep a lookout as the ladies eventually emerged in their “work” clothes and the entire assemblage stepped onto an elevator and headed up.

We broke off our surveillance at that time, and went back to being observers of conference life.

Depending on the crowd before me, if they’re not writers I’ll tell stories of my childhood or life as a writer that relates to the work in progress. And it seems they always do. Just recently I talked to a civic organization about my newest contemporary western series beginning with Hard Country, and told them the real story of how we owned a ranch across the gravel road from a meth house, and how those brain-dead individuals were always breaking into the house and that I’d learned they were related to someone in the sheriff’s office who tended to look the other way.

The questions that followed were fun, quick, and interesting for me and the audience.

I included those same stories at a book club event, but talked to them, not at them, about the development of two new series, my traditional western featuring Cap Whitlatch (below), and the upcoming weird westerns that will begin with Comancheria. I was surprised to find they were more interested in the horror aspect of westerns and fielded a lot of questions after that.

I think part of that was because I tend to converse, instead of using a prepared speech or lecture.

It’s all part of being an author, and though I don’t sell a ton of books at these events, they always pay off with name recognition and recommendations to to their friends and family to read my work.

No one told me this was part of the job, but I’m having a helluva time doing it, and if you’re nervous about public speaking, just get in the car and talk to yourself aloud, following a train of thought that leads down unexpected trails. It’ll do you good in the long run.

Now, as a side note, I was discussing my first western with a civic group last week and told them The Journey South is now out, but only as an eBook. That was followed by a firehose of questions concerning electronic vs. physical books, and the publishing industry itself, that led to even more stories and fun rabbit trails that interested the audience.

With that, I’d appreciate it y’all would pass the word that there’s a new western in town, and it ain’t as traditional as you’d think.

Much obliged.

AI created photo
CC BY-NC-SA 3.0 DEED

by Debbie Burke

 @burke_writer

Sales of new electric vehicles appear to be flattening somewhat due to long charging times required and lack of charging facilities.

But perhaps the most disillusioned EV drivers are criminals who tried to use them as getaway cars.

In a case from March 2023, police in Buford, Georgia apprehended two people at a Tesla charging station. They were suspected of stealing more than $8000 in electronics from Sam’s Club, a mere 10 miles away. Seems they forgot to charge their getaway car before the job.

Oops.

Even more ironic is the March 2024 story of a stolen Tesla belonging to Fox TV reporter Susan Hirasuna. Hirasuna had gone to a concert in downtown Los Angeles and came out to discover her Tesla had been stolen. But before she had time to report the theft, another report came into police of a car driving recklessly on Wall Street.

HIrasuna’s app showed that as the location of her car.

And…the battery range was down to 15 miles.

Police pursued her stolen car until it ran out of power and came to a stop in East Hollywood. One suspect was soon taken into custody but apparently two others were involved and escaped.

In a twist worthy of crime fiction, blood was found inside Hirasuna’s Tesla that tied to an earlier assault with an axe on a victim (who fortunately survived). The car was processed for fingerprints, and the search is on for suspects who are still at large.

Memo to criminals:

1. EVs are not reliable as getaway vehicles. 
2. EV locations can be tracked so the cops know exactly where you are.
3. Stealing or carjacking an EV may not get you far enough to successfully outrun your misdeeds.

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TKZers: Have you heard of other crimes related to EVs? 

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The criminals in Debbie Burke’s Tawny Lindholm Thriller series are too smart to depend on EVs to elude capture.