Category Archives: Writing

Don’t Let The Old Man In

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Country music master Toby Keith has left us for the Grand Ole Opry in the sky. Mr. Keith was only sixty-two when he passed last month after a brave battle with cancer. It’s a sad loss not just for America but to the entire entertainment world. A brilliant singer, songwriter, producer, actor, and businessman is gone.

Toby Keith started his career in 1998 with his debut super-hit How Do You Like Me Now? Over the next twenty-six years, he recorded five albums that went gold or better. Outstanding are the songs he wrote: American Soldier, Should’ve Been a Cowboy, Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue, and I Love This Bar.

Of all the songs Mr. Keith wrote, played, and produced, there’s one I think is superb. Just outstanding. Don’t Let The Old Man In.

Story goes that Toby Keith met Clint Eastwood at an event. (Eastwood, now ninety-three, is currently directing and producing his newest upcoming movie titled Juror No. 2.) Keith asked Eastwood what the secret was for staying so active and healthy at his advanced age. This is what Clint Eastwood said:

Every day when I wake up, I don’t let the old man in. My secret has been the same since 1959—staying busy. I never let the old man into the house. I’ve had to drag him out because he was already comfortably settled, bothering me all the time, leaving no space for anything other than nostalgia.

You have to stay active, alive, happy, strong, and capable. It’s in us, in our intelligence, attitude, and mentality. We are young, regardless of our ID. We must learn to fight to not let the old man in.

That old man awaits us, stationed and tired by the side of the road to discourage us. I don’t let the old, critical, hostile, envious spirit in—the one that scrutinizes our past to tie us up with complaints and distant anxieties, or relived traumas and waves of pain.

You have to turn your back on the old murmurer, full of rage and complaints, lacking courage, denying himself that old age can be creative, determined, and full of light and projection.

Aging can be pleasant and even fun if you know how to use your time if you’re satisfied with what you’ve achieved, and if you still maintain enthusiasm. That’s called not letting the old man into the house.

These words immensely resonated with Toby Keith. They inspired him to write Don’t Let The Old Man In which is dedicated to the legend who is Clint Eastwood. Here are the lyrics:

Don’t let the old man in
I wanna live me some more
Can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door

I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Yeah, many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Just ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm Hmm Hm

Yeah, many moons I have lived

My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born 

 

When he rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

This story—the lyrics, the music, and the video—resonates with me. I’m sixty-seven, and to some, I’m an old man. But I don’t see myself that way. To me, I’m more productive/busy than I was in my thirties and forties. And my productivity/busyness keeps increasing.

I’m blessed with longevity genes. I lead a healthy lifestyle. I don’t smoke. I’m a social drinker. And I’ve never done drugs in my life. Not even inhaling second hand weed.

I’m active. My wife of forty-one years and I stick-walk with weights and aim for 5K steps per day. (On ambitious ones, we’ll do 10-12K.) I have a proportionate weight-to-height ratio and get proper sleep. My stress level doesn’t exist, I have no worries, and at my last medical checkup the doc said I was operating like a 30-year-old.

And I have a purpose. This is the key to senior survival—way, way beyond worries. A definite purpose with a burning desire to achieve it.

I never gave much thought to why I’m like that. Not until I heard Don’t Let The Old Man In and understood the lyrics. I guess I’m this way because I won’t let the old man in.

Kill Zoners — I know there are contributors and followers who top my place on the seniority chart. How do you deal with the old person at the door? Let’s hear from those junior and senior to my 67th-out-of-100 rank.

Dedicated to my 75-year-old life-long friend and mentor Ed Hill www.edhill.art.com 

When To Gag Your Bad Guys

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“If you’re going to shoot, shoot, don’t talk!” — Tuco, from The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly.

By PJ Parrish

Man, I was this-close to loving the book. It was a bestselling thriller. It leapfrogged from Rio to Paris. It had a terrific manly-but-vulnerable reluctant hero. It had more plot twists than Père Lachaise.

I get to the climax. The hero is in jeopardy, trussed up like a turkey by the bad guy. All looks grim. This being a thriller, I know he will prevail but I was hooked because I had to find out how he was going to worm out of this. But then came…

The speech. The villain spent two and half pages telling the hero why he had to kill him.

Argh! Just kill me now.

Gawd, why do writers do this? Why do we have to get, in otherwise good books and movies, grandiose monologues where the villain tells how everything unfolded since their rotten childhood and ends with why they are hell-bent on detroying the good guy to get even.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I adore a well-rendered black hat. Directors love them because they light up the screen. Actors love to play them because it’s a chance to be remembered. James Cagney smashing a grapefruit into Mae Clarke’s face in Public Enemy. Robert Wagner pushing Joanne Woodward off the building in A Kiss Before Dying. Alan Rickman’s Hans Gruber before he shoots the executive: “That’s A Very Nice Suit, Mr. Takagi. It Would Be A Shame To Ruin It.”

But a good villain is not an easy creation. We have many great posts on this subject in our archives, so I won’t belabor the usual how-to points here. I just want to make the case for why you shouldn’t let your bad guys flap their lips at the end. And forgive me for using so many movie references, but they tend to be more universal and easy to excerpt here.

Evil gloating is one of the worst tropes in fiction. It s a crutch to prop up a lack of solid character-building. All good villains, as we’ve said here often, have their own backstories and complex psychologies. It is your job as the writer-in-charge to lay this all out over the course of your story rather than depending on a tiresome monologue in the third act.

There are some variations on this trope:

Revealing the Evil Plan: This is where the villain lays out exactly why he had to A.. Invade Fort Knox. B. Find the Holy Grail to prove Mary Magdalene had a daughter living in the south of France. D. Put Hitler’s brain in a jar so he can be revived and take over the world.

Emotive motives. This shows up alot in mediocre TV cop shows. After the killer is caught, he whines about his past, usually in a long, self-pitying speech about why he had to do it. “My brother stole my girl and kilt my dog, so he had to die!”

I won’t quote it here because it’s way too long. But one speech that really irked me in both the book and the movie comes at the end of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. The hero Mikael Blomkvist is being tortured by the murderer Martin Vanger. Vanger goes into a monologue that actually starts with, “Sit down, relax, have a drink. I like that part a lot. Having a chat when both of you know that one of you is going to die.”  Ugh. Well, it does give Lisbeth time to sneak up and whack Vanger with a nine iron.

Why you suck. This time it’s personal. In a speech, the bad guy just can’t help telling the good guy how pathetic he is. There’s a great site called The True Tropes Wiki (hat tip to them, by the way, for helping me research this.) They call this one The Hannibal Lecture after this great dialogue tidbit: “You’d like to quantify me, Officer Starling. You’re so ambitious, aren’t you? Do you know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube.” But in lesser hands, this trope is really tiresome.

Sometimes, as with Hannibal Lecter, a villain speech isn’t a bad thing. Inserted in the right moment, and kept short, it can illuminate character and propell plot. The “Greed is Good” monologue that Oliver Stone gives to Michael Douglas in Wall Street is a prime example.

And I love this bad guy speech from The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. It turns the trope on its head. Watch the very brief video. It’s worth it.

There’s also a wonderful villain monologue in Shane. Yeah, it’s a speech, but it works. The set-up: Shane, the gunfighter with a mysterious past, rides into town and is hired by hardscrabble rancher Joe Starrett. He tells Shane that a war of intimidation is being waged on the valley’s settlers, led by a ruthless cattle baron, Rufus Ryker. At one point, Ryker gives a long motive speech trying to justify his actions:

Look, Starrett, when I come to this country, you weren’t much older than your boy there. We had rough times, me and other men that are mostly dead now. I got a bad shoulder yet from a Cheyenne arrowhead. We made this country. Found it and we made it. With blood and empty bellies. The cattle we brought in were hazed off by Indians and rustlers. They don’t bother you much anymore because we handled ’em. We made a safe range out of this. Some of us died doin’ it but we made it. And then people move in who’ve never had to rawhide it through the old days. They fence off my range, and fence me off from water. Some of ’em like you plow ditches, take out irrigation water. And so the creek runs dry sometimes and I’ve got to move my stock because of it. And you say we have no right to the range. 

Boo-hoo, you might say. But it works here because it humanizes the black-hearted Ryker and gives the turf war context. You need to do this for your bad guys.

I can’t let this post go without one last thing. We have to talk about the evil laugh. It’s a very old trope, dating back to 17th century literature. But we think of Vincent Price, at the end of Michael Jackson’s Thriller video. Or the Wicked Witch of the West. Or Hedley Lamar in Blazing Saddles, just before he chokes on his candy. Sometimes, the evil laugh tapers off into the wicked chuckle. But at it’s finest, it’s just…

Muahahahahaha…Hahahahahahaha… AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

And nobody does it better than Glenn Close. I leave you with Cruella:

How To Use White Space

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When I was first learning the craft, I studied many novels, searching for how the author drew me in, held me in suspense, and propelled me to turn the page. Still do. 😉 One of the things I noticed was their use of white space — the blank field around the words and paragraphs.

White space can help create drama, emotion, or add a quiet pause before the storm hits. With so many “rules” or guidelines, sometimes white space can get overlooked. Yet it’s a powerful tool when used with intent.

Let’s look at a few examples. The first two are from our own James Scott Bell.

Last Call from JSB:

“Yo,” she said. “Go back to your table, okay?”

He stiffened and his smile melted into his beard. “Real friendly.” He shook his head as he went back to his table. He turned his laptop around then sat with his back to her.

Just like the rest of the world.

Long Lost from JSB:

With the wind blowing outside, Stevie fell into a calm sleep. Deep like the desert night.

He woke up with a rough hand over his mouth. Pressing him down. Maybe it was Robert playing a game. But it wasn’t. It was something big.

A monster.

 

The eye is drawn to the last line in both examples. They’re sharp and dramatic when sectioned by white space.

In the Eyes of the Dead by Jordan Dane:

I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. The hopelessness of becoming a victim rushed over me like a floodgate opening. I nearly choked on the magnitude of it. Images of my ordeal bombarded me. I caught glimpses of another face. It all happened too fast, I wasn’t sure I could retain what I’d seen.

Just like last time.

Again, Jordan could’ve set the last line in the same paragraph, but it would lose its punch there.

We can also use white space to break up dialogue.

Here’s an example from Skinwalkers by Tony Hillerman:

“Then you know that if I was a witch, I could turn myself into something else. Into a burrowing owl. I could fly out the smoke hole and go away into the night.”

Silence.

“But I am not a witch. I am just a man. I am a singer. A yataalii. I have learned the ways to cure. Some of them. I know the songs to protect you against a witching. But I am not a witch.”

See how “silence” added to the drama? Had he put all the dialogue into one paragraph, it wouldn’t be as effective, even with an intriguing conversation.

The Killing Song by PJ Parish:

The cold nub that had formed in my gut was growing. I was never one to trust vague feelings. I was a reporter and trained to believe only what I could see, what I could prove.

But the feeling rising up and putting a choke hold on my heart now was real.

Mandy was gone.

That last line smacks you in the face — because it’s separated by white space.

Blonde Hair, Blue Eyes by Karin Slaughter:

The line finally moved, and Julia went into the first stall. She felt her pager vibrate as she started to unbutton her jeans. She didn’t scroll the number right away. She sat down on the toilet. She looked up at the ceiling. She looked at the posters taped to the back of the stall door. She finally looked down at the pager. She pressed the button to scroll the number.

222.

Her heart broke into a million pieces.

222.

Julia looked up, trying to keep her tears from falling. She sniffed. She counted to a slow one hundred. She looked down again, because maybe she was wrong.

222.

 

The repetition also draws you in. If the author were to continue too long, the rhythm would lose its value. When done with intent, it’s dramatic and effective.

The last example is from my new thriller, Savage Mayhem (releases once my designer completes my cover).

A hair-raising screech stopped me mid-stride, my heartbeat quickened to a fast pitter-patter, pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Quaking aspen leaves trembled as we passed. Night owls slalomed through the trees, oarlike wings emitting a whoosh with each stroke. To my left, sticks crunched under heavy paws. Or hooves.

Bear?

Moose?

Wolf?

Here, I used white space for a dramatic pause and to draw attention to each individual threat. Which allows the reader to wonder. I also used Onomatopoeia words to deepen the scene.

White space can help fix long, rambling passages of text, pacing issues, and story rhythm. It’s a tool we should never overlook. Use the precious real estate to your advantage.

With the exception of mine (this is NOT a shameless plug), I recommend all these books. They’re fabulous.

Have you read any of them? Did you notice the white space while reading? Do you pay attention to white space in your writing?

Public Speaking

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No one told me when I first got into this writing business that I’d be standing before large and small groups and organizations these past thirteen years, talking books and this art form I’d chosen to pursue. It comes easy to me, because I’m a natural born BSer, but some find standing before the public to be a daunting task.

Through the years I’ve learned that different audiences have their own personalities. Some small groups are in a party mood, ready to be entertained and full of questions and comments. On the flip side, I’ve talked to groups who stared at me as if I owed them money, only to have the attendees swarm the signing table saying I was the best presenter they’d heard in years.

Go figure.

Large audiences are typically more open and responsive. You just never know.

Civic organizations always need speakers, and I’ll talk to them all. Dinner clubs are fun, and those folks are usually full of questions, which I love.

I have no set talk. I verbally wander around like a toddler lost in Walmart, starting out with one idea and getting distracted by a recollection only to bounce onto another anecdote or  writing tip. I watch people out there with pen and paper, scribbling furiously to keep up as I offer suggestions ranging from authors I like, to those who influenced me, to books on writing and publishing.

Talking about books and writing is almost a hobby for me. I look forward to different groups interested in learning the trade. In fact, this coming September I have the honor of being the first author to appear in the inaugural Garland, Texas, community-wide reading program called One Book, One Garland. According to organizers, the goal is to get as many community members to read Hard Country as possible and to hold a three-day series of programs and events.

Saturday, September 14 at 6pm – Evening with the author: Talk on Reavis’ personal journey to publication, followed by book signing.

Thursday, September 19 at 7pm – (More exclusive event) Author visit with our book clubs: This will be a collection of at least three book clubs in the Garland area. They will be combined for one meeting to talk with the members and the Friends of the Library about Hard Country.

Friday, September 20 at 6pm – Writing workshop

Hard Country is my most recent novel, featuring a contemporary special ranger for the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association. These agents investigate rural crimes, and my characters, Tucker and Harley Snow, are based on two brothers who worked undercover narcotics here in the state back in the 80s and 90s. The novel is based on a real meth house that was across the gravel road from our ranch in Oklahoma, and it debuted as one of Amazon’s picks for the month of August, 2023.

My talk for the Evening with the Author, “The Road to Publication and Other Great Disasters” is the most popular presentation I have, and it’s full of information, humor, and anecdotes about writing.

I’m excited to speak before any group. This past week I met with a retired teachers association to discuss my early career in public education, and then this second career as an author. Another such organization in a different part of the state is on the books next month.

On the day of this post, I’ll be in Dallas, part of a panel discussing literature as a whole, publishing, and “common misconceptions people have about being an author.”

Now that’s funny.

It takes time from writing, but in my opinion, it’s an essential part of being a successful author.

So what do you think? Is this difficult for you? Do you take the Cormac McCarthy path and avoid talking in public, or are you like me, do you set your soul on fire for the sheer joy of talking with readers and fans?

Reader Friday – Fiction is Better than Reality

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“Truth is Stranger than Fiction” may be the case, but “Fiction is Better than Reality” is quickly becoming evident as we look at the world scene. It is hard to think of a time in history when there were as many hot spots of chaos and disaster as there are now.

It is comforting to find a fictional story world where problems are solved, justice is served, and the good guys win. When we’ve found such a world, it’s hard to return to reality.

Today, let’s share the books we’ve read (or are reading) that have provided shelter from the storm, a place where the barrage of news or world events cannot reach us or drain us of happiness.

Here is your opportunity to promote your own books or tell us about another author whose books have provided a refuge.

What books have you read (or are reading) that you have found to be a healthy escape from the chaos that surrounds us? Promote your own books or tell us about a favorite author’s book(s).

Sneak Preview

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By Elaine Viets

       
          Hey, there, TKZers. A Scarlet Death, my latest Angela Richman, Death Investigator mystery will be published April 2, and I can’t wait for you to read it. This is what TKZ is all about: getting our writing published. It’s why we work to improve our plotting, pacing, even our proofreading. We put a lot of time and money into our work. Let’s not forget to celebrate our success.

It’s easy to become blase after we write multiple books. A Scarlet Death is my 34th mystery. When it arrived, I danced around the house, then showed it off to my friends and family like a new baby. Even my cat, Vanessa, came by to check it out.

Let me tell you a little about A Scarlet Death. Angela investigates the bizarre death of socialite Selwyn Skipton, found strangled on black satin bedsheets, with a red letter A stapled to his chest. Selwyn was a good man. He gave to charity, supported local causes, and was married to his wife for more than twenty years. What were his dark secrets? What did he do to deserve such a terrible death?

Also, what’s going on in Angela’s personal life? Will she be a new bride? Or a new widow?

Here’s a look at the first chapter. Enjoy.

         A Scarlet Death Chapter 1

Selwyn Skipton’s murder scene was one of the strangest, and I’ve seen a lot of them in my job.

The seventy-year-old CEO was buck-naked on a bed with black satin sheets. A silk tie, in a muted shade of blue, was knotted around his neck. There was nothing muted about the large, red letter “A” stapled to his gray-haired chest.

Yep, stapled.

 

I thought Skipton would be the last man to die on black satin sheets. He was a devoted husband who made big donations to charities – unfashionable causes that helped the illiterate read, the hungry eat, and the homeless find shelter. In short, a good man.

Selwyn was strangled in an apartment above the Chouteau Forest Chocolate Shoppe. My town is so rich, we don’t have shops. We have prissy shoppes.

I’m Angela Richman, a death investigator for Chouteau County, a fat cat community forty miles west of St. Louis, Missouri. Chouteau Forest is the largest town in the county.

Selwyn’s murder was discovered by Maya Richards, the chocolate shop owner. When she opened the store that morning, Maya smelled something that definitely wasn’t chocolate. She followed her nose up the back stairs to the apartment, where the door was unlocked, and poked her head in. One look at the strangled Selwyn, and she sprinted downstairs. When Maya recovered her breath, she wailed like an air raid siren, then called 911.

That’s how Detective Jace Budewitz and I wound up at the scene at eleven o’clock on a freezing December morning, an hour after the place usually opened. The chocolate shop was chaos. The front doors were locked, with the three responding uniformed officers inside. Mike Harrigan, an old pro, was guarding the back door. Scott Grafton was drooling over a rack of chocolate Christmas candy, and Pete Clayton, the new hire, was at the front door. Crazed chocolate lovers stormed the place, oblivious to the falling snow. Jace shooed them away, and had Pete string up yellow crime scene tape.

Maya Richards unlocked the door with shaking fingers, and let us in. I was familiar with the interior, thanks to my craving for sea-salt truffles. The decor hadn’t changed since 1890. Curlicued dark wood framed mirrors behind mahogany counters. The chocolates were displayed like jewels in beveled glass cases. The cases were empty today. Maya knew her shop wasn’t going to open for a while.

Maya was about forty, wearing a chocolate-brown suit, the same color as her hair. Her face was pale as paper and her red lipstick looked like a bloody slash. Maya was shaking so badly, I was afraid she’d collapse. She was clearly in shock, and could barely talk.

Jace was worried about her. He made sure Maya sat in a chair and called 911. I went back to find her a cup of coffee. I couldn’t find any, but there was plenty of the shop’s double-dark hot chocolate. I heated a mug in the microwave, and brought it to her. Maya wrapped her hands around the mug, and nodded. After a few sips, she recovered enough to talk. There were long pauses between her words, but she forced them out. Then the words tumbled out in a rush.

“I . . . get . . . here . . . about seven . . . to set up the shop,” she said.

“I have a very keen nose, and something didn’t smell right. I thought a squirrel might have gotten into the store and died. I checked everywhere, and finally decided the smell must be coming from upstairs.

“Mr. Selwyn Skipton has the entire apartment upstairs. I thought he kept it as a second office, or a pied-à-terre for when he worked late downtown. He owns the building, you see, and he’s a regular customer. He loves our bear claws.”

“Me, too,” I said. Jace frowned at me for interrupting.

Maya took another sip of hot chocolate and kept talking. ‘I’ve never been upstairs in the apartment. Mr. Skipton’s kept it for years, and he likes – I mean, liked – his privacy. I was afraid he might have had some kind of accident. He has his own entrance in the back of the building, and I need a special key to open it. I also need a key to open the door at the top. The upstairs door was left unlocked.

“I ran upstairs and knocked on the door. No one answered. I jiggled the handle and the door swung open. All I saw was this giant bed, covered in black satin, and Mr. Skipton in the middle of it. Dead. And naked. With bugs crawling on him!”

Now Maya’s teeth were chattering. Her breathing was rapid and shallow and her skin was clammy. She set her mug on the floor.

“Are you OK, Ms. Richards?” Jace asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, and fainted.

“See if she has any family, Angela,” Jace said. “I’ll call 911.”

I found her cell phone and ran back. It needed the owner’s fingerprint to unlock it. I grabbed Maya’s limp hand, used her index finger to unlock the phone, scrolled down to an entry that said “Sis,” and called the number. Her sister Anita answered, and once I calmed her down, Anita said she’d leave her office and meet Maya at the hospital.

“That’s the ambulance,” I told her, as the siren died with a squawk. Doors slammed. Pete opened the shop door, and four paramedics rushed in, bringing a blast of cold. Jace explained what happened. They checked Maya’s pulse. “Do you know if this has happened to her before?” the biggest paramedic asked. He looked like he bench-pressed Buicks.

“No idea.” Jace shrugged.

“It could be a panic attack,” the paramedic said, “but we’ll take her to the ER to make sure.”

Jace asked Pete to stay with Maya at the hospital until her sister showed up. The young crew-cut mountain gave Jace a sour look and stomped out the door.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Pete’s got a bad attitude,” Jace said. “He tried to get hired by a big force, and wound up here. Thinks he’s too good to do scut work.”

I nodded, and let it go. Some detectives wouldn’t have bothered taking care of Maya at a murder scene, but Jace had a kind heart.

Meanwhile Mike, the responding officer, had set up the crime scene log. Jace and I gloved up, put on booties and trudged up the dark, narrow private staircase. I dragged my death investigator’s suitcase behind me.

The apartment door was open from when Maya fled downstairs.

Jace looked in and said, “Good lord.”

******************************************************************

A Scarlet Death will be shipped April 2. Preorder your hardcover or ebook at: Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/bde2c7ks

          Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yhtvzns7

          Hardcovers only:  Target: https://tinyurl.com/5xnrx5n4

          The Penguin Bookshop, https://tinyurl.com/67nvm4j9

          RJ Julia Booksellers, Madison, Conn: https://tinyurl.com/4drh288c

          Please note that prices may vary. Check before you buy. 

Four-legged Detectives: Bringing K-9s to Life in Fiction

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Four-legged Detectives: Bringing K-9s to Life in Fiction
Terry Odell and Kathleen Donnelly

As you read this, I’m be in New Zealand. I’m delighted that Kathleen Donnelly agreed to cover for my post this week. I first met Kathleen years ago at a writer’s conference where she did a fascinating presentation on working dogs.

Kathleen, Gracie, Sparky, Boomer, and Willow

Thank you so much, Terry, for inviting me to guest post on the Kill zone! I’m excited to be here today to share information about one of my passions—working dogs. Whether you’re a reader, writer or both, I’m happy to share a behind the scenes look at how I developed my fictional K-9 Juniper, based on my real-life experiences.

Dogs are man’s best friend for many reasons, but their ability to help us solve mysteries by using their noses make them invaluable for law enforcement, military, private sector work and more. They also make great fictional characters. I’ve been lucky to have worked for a private company for the past 19 years called Sherlock Hounds Detection Canines. Our dogs are trained to find drugs, alcohol and gunpowder. The goal of our program is to help deter these items at schools. Over the years, my dogs continue to amaze me and it was this work that led to me adding a K-9 into my National Forest K-9 series.

I had many decisions to make when I decided to add in a K-9 character to my series. What breed should I use? Which agency would employ my main character? What language would my main character use to give her K-9 commands? I wanted the K-9 work in my books to be authentic and so before I even chose a breed, I had to decide on the agency. Why? Because each agency has different requirements, commands, and training styles.

Knowing the agency would determine all of that plus help me decide on the breed of dog. For example, my private company uses Labrador retrievers because we work in schools. We want a non-intimidating breed. However, a police department who’s tracking a suspect wanted for homicide needs an intimidating breed that will also be happy to apprehend (the polite way of saying bite) the bad guy. Dogs who are known for apprehension are usually shepherds. One other breed I’ve seen used more and more for this work is the Giant Black Schnauzer.

These two very different breeds below are both searching for narcotics. The Fox Terrier was one of our non-intimidating dogs while the shepherd was in training for law enforcement. Your character’s agency will make all the difference in the breed you choose.)

When I determined that my protagonist, Maya Thompson, would be a US Forest Service law enforcement officer, I knew she would have a Malinois. They are my favorite shepherd breed. They are also high-energy, intense, love their work (especially apprehension) and loyal to their handlers. I was asked once why I chose a female Malinois. My answer was simply for “Girl Power.” In real life, for most agencies, the sex of the dog doesn’t matter, only the characteristics needed to be a good working dog. Some of those characteristics include a high-retrieve drive, high prey drive, and extremely high energy.

Knowing the agency and breed allowed me to determine all the different jobs my one fictional dog would be able to do. As a law enforcement K-9, I knew she would be a dual-purpose dog. Dual-purpose means the dogs have more than one job. In this case, I knew that like other law enforcement K-9s my dog would find narcotics, track suspects, locate evidence and apprehend. I also researched how my dog would alert. There are two types of alerts—passive and active. Passive is when you see a dog sit or lie down to tell their handler they’ve found something. Passive alerts are becoming more common because there tends to be less destruction. Active alerts are when a dog scratches at an item they’ve found. The type of alert is very important when it comes to creating an authentic fictional dog. For example, for obvious reasons, a bomb dog will never do an active alert. I chose to have my dog do a passive alert. I was talking to one of our trainers and even took the alert a step further. When our trainer was a deputy, she taught her German Shepherd to sit when he found narcotics and down when he found evidence. I loved that and my fictional dog soon had the exact same alerts.

When I had these factors worked out, I also had to create a realistic handler. Once again, girl power. I knew I’d have a female protagonist and Maya came to life. I wanted Maya to already have training as a K-9 handler and there were a couple realistic ways to go about this—she could have a past in law enforcement or the military. I chose military for my character as that lent itself better to the storyline of my character having PTSD from losing her dog in Afghanistan. On a side spoiler note—no dogs will ever be killed in my books. This is just a part of my character’s backstory.

As I wrote my first book, CHASING JUSTICE, I enjoyed incorporating my fictional K-9 into solving the mystery. Juniper tracked, apprehended, cleared a cabin and found narcotics. Through some of these storylines, I enjoyed also dispelling some myths about working dogs. How many times have we seen in a movie where the bad guy gets away because he ran through water? Or the dog missed the narcotics because they were hidden in coffee? While in real life dogs can miss something or lose the scent of someone they’re tracking, these ways of deterring a dog are not real. Dogs can smell just fine through water and have even been known to find drowning victims. There’s nothing that will cover the scent of narcotics, bombs, or anything else a dog is trained to find.

One of my last decisions was what language to have Maya give Juniper commands. Many people think that K-9s are automatically trained in German or Dutch. For some dogs this is true. Our trainers would keep commands in a different language if the dog came with previous training in a different language. Otherwise, they train the dogs in English. This is because officers in a high stress situation (which is when a dog is being deployed) often forget the foreign language. It’s much easier to recall your native language. Officers have also found that when a suspect hears the command for the dog to go bite, the person is more inspired to give up and start complying with arrest. For those reasons, plus the ease of writing, I decided to have Maya give Juniper commands in English.

If you’re thinking of incorporating a K-9 into your writing, these are just a few of the things to think about as you research. I’ve enjoyed not only working with my dogs, but learning more about other K-9 jobs, handler qualifications and how other agencies train. Have you thought about a K-9 character? What would your K-9 character’s superpowers be? What else would you like to know about K-9s? I’ll be around all day to answer your questions and discuss further. Thanks again for having me as a guest on the blog!

P.S. Every month I write a story for my newsletter about my experiences as a K-9 handler. If you sign up for my newsletter, you’ll also receive my free eBook “Working Tails: The Stories Behind the K-9s.” You can sign up on my website.

I also wanted to let you know about a special pre-order campaign through my favorite indie bookstore for my latest book, KILLER SECRETS. If you order KILLER SECRETS or any of the other National Forest K-9 books through Old Firehouse books, you’ll receive a signed books and you’ll be entered in a drawing for a National Forest K-9 Gift box which includes a gift card to the bookstore (can be used for online orders), dog treats from a local biscuit bakery, and coffee. Go to Old Firehouse Books today to buy your copies and be entered in the drawing.

Thanks, Kathleen, for stepping up while I’m away. TKZers, I’ve read her award-winning Chasing Justice, and it’s obvious Kathleen knows her dogs!

How can he solve crimes if he’s not allowed to investigate?

Gordon Hepler, Mapleton’s Chief of Police, has his hands full. A murder, followed by several assaults. Are they related to the expansion of the community center? Or could it be the upcoming election? Gordon and mayor wannabe Nelson Manning have never seen eye to eye. Gordon’s frustrations build as the crimes cover numerous jurisdictions, effectively tying his hands.
Available now.

Terry Odell is an award-winning author of Mystery and Romantic Suspense, although she prefers to think of them all as “Mysteries with Relationships.”

Sleep: Embracing Your Inner Koala

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“Happiness consists of getting enough sleep. Just that, nothing more.” –Robert A. Heinlein, Starship Troopers

* * *

Koala bears are the experts when it comes to sleep. An adult koala averages about twenty hours of sleep each day! To those of us who are trying to pack as much writing, marketing, networking, and everything else into a 24-hour time period, that seems a little excessive..

So why do those cute, furry critters need so much sleep? Koalas exist primarily on a diet of toxic eucalyptus leaves, and it takes a lot of energy for their digestive systems to break down the leaves which turn out to be low in nutrients to begin with. Bottom line: koala bears get the amount of sleep they need to support their lifestyle.

So how does that apply to humans?

* * *

“A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor’s book.” –Irish Proverb

We all know that a good night’s sleep is essential for good health. Good sleeping habits help us maintain a healthy weight, lower stress levels, repair body tissue, and give us an overall sense of well-being. According to sleepfoundation.org, sleep is also conducive to mental acuity.

Sleep is believed to help with memory and cognitive thinking. Brain plasticity theory, a major theory on why humans sleep, posits that sleep is necessary so the brain can grow, reorganize, restructure, and make new neural connections. These connections in the brain help individuals learn new information and form memories during sleep. In other words, a good night’s sleep can lead to better problem-solving and decision-making skills.

Better sleep means better thinking, but how about creativity?

* * *

“Man is a genius when he is dreaming.” –Akira Kurosawa, Japanese Film Director

It turns out creativity and sleep are related.

Scientists generally divide sleep into two categories: Non-rapid eye movement (Non-REM) sleep and Rapid Eye Movement (REM) sleep.

Ideatovalue.com posted an article that compared the two categories and examined their effects on creativity.

  • Non-REM sleep is where information we engaged with during the day is processed and formed into memories

  • REM sleep is where those new memories are compared and integrated into all of the previous knowledge and memories we have. This is also usually when we dream. This may form new novel associations between distant pieces of information, a vital component for new ideas

The article concludes:

This would imply that REM sleep is important for not only our ability to associate new ideas and solve existing problems, but also form new original and divergently creative ideas.

Okay. We need a good night’s sleep to perform at our best, but how do we get it?

* * *

“A well-spent day brings happy sleep.” –Leonardo da Vinci

How much sleep do we need to maximize creativity? The National institutes of Health recommends adults get seven to nine hours of sleep a night. And how can you ensure a good night’s sleep? The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommend

  • Be consistent. Go to bed at the same time each night and get up at the same time each morning, including on the weekends

  • Make sure your bedroom is quiet, dark, relaxing, and at a comfortable temperature

  • Remove electronic devices, such as TVs, computers, and smart phones, from the bedroom

  • Avoid large meals, caffeine, and alcohol before bedtime

  • Get some exercise. Being physically active during the day can help you fall asleep more easily at night.

* * *

So TKZers: Have you noticed a connection between sleep and creativity? How much sleep do you get each night? Do you remember your dreams and use them in your stories? Have you recovered from losing an hour of sleep to Daylight Savings Time?

* * *

Private pilot Cassie Deakin lands in the middle of a nightmare when she finds her beloved Uncle Charlie has been assaulted by thieves. Then things get worse.

Buy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

 

National Be Nasty Day

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Your Choice of Vehicle: Steam or Purple Prose

I spent two days this week preparing for my meeting with my tax accountant. Those are my two least favorite days of the year. To make it worse, my wife and I changed banks between March and June of last year. So, with a farm account and a business account, I had four sets of documents to organize. By the end of the first evening I was ready to tear my hair out. But, with my wife’s patience and a good night’s sleep, I made it through.

I did decide that I should use that pain in my writing, or at least for this post, something along the lines of over-the-top purple prose to describe the old fat Mr. Taxagain N. Again. I thought some of you might enjoy venting your simmering contempt for the old geezer.

Then I looked at the National Days calendar and discovered that March 8th is National “Be Nasty Day,” a time to pull no punches and say what your really want to say to someone who has been less than kind to you. Great! We now have two choices:  a) Let the IRS know what you really think about them, or b) Respond to a former teacher/prof/agent/editor/colleague who told us we had no aptitude for writing, or made unkind remarks about our writing.

So, let’s vent some steam (or purple prose) today . Pick one (or both) of the options below and let it rip. You’ll feel better afterwards.

  1. Describe the old fat IRS Tax collector, Mr. Tax-Until-They-Drop, with as much purple prose as you wish, or just tell us what you really think of him.
  2. Craft a no-holds-barred response to someone who has belittled your writing.

Ah! You should feel better now. And if you don’t, take an aspirin and call me in the morning.

Smooth Operator – First Page Critique

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By John Gilstrap

By way of full disclosure, I don’t often participate in our First Page Critique program. It’s not that I don’t think there’s value in it, but rather that I don’t think I’m particularly qualified to critique the work of others. As I’ve mentioned here about a bazillion times, I am entirely self-taught. By sheer trial and error, I’ve learned what works for me, and what irks me about the works of others. The problem is that I am often irked by some of the bestselling authors on the planet, which brings me back to what the hell do I know? And who am I to presume to tell others what to do?

On the rare occasions when I do pick up a sample for a first page critique, it’s because I think the work has a lot of potential, and it falls within areas of my expertise where I know I can provide some wisdom that goes beyond the mechanics of writing. Today’s sample of Smooth Operator, by Courageous Author Unknown, is just such an example. (Note to said author: if you email john@johngilstrap.com, I’ll send you the complete marked-up manuscript.)

Here we go. First the original manuscript in bold font, with my comments on the back end:

Smooth Operator

Chapter 1

“Give yourself up, Ma’am,” the agent shouted. “There is no way out. It’s your only choice.”

Madam Chiang hunkered low against the grey BMW, still clutching the empty Beretta in her perfectly manicured hands.

Oh please. You sound like some B-grade cop movie.

“You only have one option,” the agent shouted again. “Give up now and I won’t shoot. Back-up’s on the way.”

Ah, rookies. It’s Sunday evening. Any back-up is still twenty miles away. And, of course I have options. I always have options. She just hadn’t thought of one yet.

But, in that exchange, Madam Chiang had gained two valuable pieces of information. First, she knew the agent had no idea who she was pursuing, because she had been addressed as ma’am. Likely, the agent only assumed she was a threat because she had just witnessed Madam Chiang blow her friend to oblivion. Not an altogether bad assumption.

Second, the agent was most likely not even on duty. Her tight dress and heels said she wasn’t here for work. Probably only stopped by the office on her way to a party. Whatever the reason, it must have been dumb luck that the agent saw her at all.

 

Moments ago, Madam Chiang had been inside the federal building rushing toward her prearranged exit, clutching the recovered evidence against her chest. She had just spotted her door when a chime announced the elevator’s arrival. Startled, she turned toward the sound. Two women stepped half way out before glimpsing Madam Chiang. All three froze simultaneously. Madam Chiang noticed their eyes widen as they spotted the pistol in her hand. Were they just harmless visitors or a threat?

That question was quickly resolved when one of the women popped open her clutch and pulled out her own pistol. Madam Chiang leveled the Beretta and squeezed off two rounds. Her first hollow-point hit its mark, entering the body just below the unarmed girl’s armpit, continuing on to obliterate her heart and lungs. The force slammed her body into a wall before folding to the floor in a crumpled heap. The second slug missed its mark.

The surviving agent jerked back inside the elevator firing an errant shot as she did. A split-second later, Madam Chiang fired one final shot toward the open elevator and sprinted toward her exit, charging toward cover in an adjacent parking structure.

It’s Gilstrap again. Pretty good stuff overall, don’t you think? The piece certainly starts on action. We get some good hints of attitude in the narration surrounding Madam Chiang. To be sure, she’s not a lady I want to cross when she’s cranky. Let’s stipulate that Courageous Unknown Author knows what s/he’s doing, and that this snippet earns a solid B. Now let’s get to the business of making a good thing even better:

“Give yourself up, Ma’am,” the agent shouted. “There is no way out. It’s your only choice.”

Given what we learn later–that our POV character has killed the agent’s friend–this dialogue prints as way too polite to me. “Show yourself or I will effing kill you!” (or something along those lines, depending on your market) seems way more appropriate. Also, where is the agent relative to our character? Shouldn’t our character be worried about the agent moving for position, especially since her weapon is dry?

Madam Chiang hunkered low against the grey BMW, still clutching the empty Beretta in her perfectly manicured hands.

There are dozens of models of Berettas, but one thing they all have in common is the fact if the magazine is empty, there’s been a hell of a gunfight. I don’t buy that a) she’d be noticing her manicure, or b) that she wouldn’t have broken a nail or gotten them dirty in a running gunfight. The gunshot residue alone would have dirtied her hands.

Also–and this is one of my proprietary irks–please name your characters, especially for close in 3rd POV. First of all, Madam Chiang reads to me as someone who runs a brothel. Later, as the action picks up, you seem to realize that the name is awkward, and resort instead into battling pronouns.

Oh please. You sound like some B-grade cop movie.

Attach this to the end of the paragraph above. That way, it’s easier to know whose thoughts we’re reading. As for the substance of the thought, I was thinking the same thing, but not in a good way.

“You only have one option,” the agent shouted again. “Give up now and I won’t shoot. Back-up’s on the way.”

Let’s think about this. I’m the agent and you’re the bad guy that I’ve got dead to rights on a murder charge. Why would I think for a minute that you would give yourself up after a gunfight? Why would I be marking my position with my voice so you would know where I am–especially since I’m alone? In this circumstance, if I knew where you were, I’d be advancing on your position as silently as I could to take you out. If I didn’t know where you were, I’d take cover somewhere and not make a sound while I waited for you to make a move and show yourself. If you were a professional–and that seems to be what you’re making Madam Chiang out to be–you would know all of this and you’d be plotting accordingly.

Ah, rookies. It’s Sunday evening. Any back-up is still twenty miles away. And, of course I have options. I always have options. She just hadn’t thought of one yet.

Proprietary irk #2: I hate long passages of quoted thought, because that’s not really how we think. At least, that’s not how I think. If this were my story, I would initiate the thought with italics, and then move on with close-in 3rd person narration. Like this:

Ah, rookies. It was Sunday evening, any backup was still twenty minutes away, and she always had options. She just hadn’t thought of one yet. (By the way, I really like that last sentence.)

Now, let’s talk about the choreography. Are federal buildings–the setting, as we will learn in the next section–ever so empty that backup is twenty minutes away? I’m thinking more like 90 seconds.

But, in that exchange, Madam Chiang had gained two valuable pieces of information. First, she knew the agent had no idea who she was pursuing, because she had been addressed as ma’am. Likely, the agent only assumed she was a threat because she had just witnessed Madam Chiang blow her friend to oblivion. Not an altogether bad assumption.

This is the only paragraph in the sample that I hate in its entirety. The glibness just doesn’t work. And it stops the flow of the story.

Second, the agent was most likely not even on duty. Her tight dress and heels said she wasn’t here for work. Probably only stopped by the office on her way to a party. Whatever the reason, it must have been dumb luck that the agent saw her at all.

The detail of the agent’s dress (how do we know she’s an agent, by the way, and not a security guard or concealed carrier?) may pay off later, but if not, this is a bit of a non sequitur for me.

Then, there’s a space break, and . .

Moments ago, Madam Chiang had been inside the federal building rushing toward her prearranged exit, clutching the recovered evidence against her chest. She had just spotted her door when a chime announced the elevator’s arrival. Startled, she turned toward the sound. Two women stepped half way out before glimpsing Madam Chiang. All three froze simultaneously. Madam Chiang noticed their eyes widen as they spotted the pistol in her hand. Were they just harmless visitors or a threat?

First, I don’t understand why this is not the beginning of the story.

I’m not at all oriented to the setting here. I know it’s a federal building, but that doesn’t mean anything. The federal building here in Martinsburg, WV, is entirely different than the federal building in Washington, DC. Are we talking marble floors? Artwork on the walls?

And where are the security guards?

“Prearranged exit” implies additional players. Either way, don’t be coy. Share with us what that exit is and how far away it is.

At this stage, I don’t think we need to know what the “recovered evidence” is, but I’m curious why she’s walking the halls with her pistol drawn if she’s just stealing stuff. A gun in your hand makes it more difficult to clutch things against your chest. Also, the reaction of the ladies in the elevator when they see the gun is exactly the reason not to have one in her hand unless she’s on the attack.

That question was quickly resolved when one of the women popped open her clutch and pulled out her own pistol. Madam Chiang leveled the Beretta and squeezed off two rounds. Her first hollow-point hit its mark, entering the body just below the unarmed girl’s armpit, continuing on to obliterate her heart and lungs. The force slammed her body into a wall before folding to the floor in a crumpled heap. The second slug missed its mark.

Here’s a rule to live by–literally: Never draw down on a drawn gun because you’re going to lose the fight. Agents know this. When the gun is carried off-body (as in a purse), it’s an even bigger problem. The agent’s smart move would have been to duck back into the elevator for cover and to buy a few seconds of time.

Okay, I’m an armed bad guy and I confront two targets–one is armed and one is not. Why on earth would I shoot the unarmed target first? We know it wasn’t a miss because the bullet “hit its mark.”

Is Madam Chiang still clutching the evidence to her chest when she fires these shots? If she’s a professional, she needs to finish this gunfight right here. Drop the evidence, engage the targets and be done with it. To intentionally leave an armed and angry enemy alive to follow as you run is a bad decision.

Proprietary irk #3: Bullets don’t throw people around when they hit. Also, while you can see where a bullet hits on a person’s body, there’s no way to know in real time where it goes as it tumbles through the viscera.

If Madam Chiang is a professional, she would know exactly where that second bullet landed, and she would be pissed.

The surviving agent jerked back inside the elevator firing an errant shot as she did. A split-second later, Madam Chiang fired one final shot toward the open elevator and sprinted toward her exit, charging toward cover in an adjacent parking structure.

The smart move for Madam Chiang would be to dump half a magazine through the elevator door behind which the agent was hiding, and then move to the opening to make sure the job was done.

Before the beginning to this paragraph, this post was at 2,048 words. Probably time to move on.

I hand it over to the rest of the TKZ family for further analysis . . .