The Legendary Ed McBain

As a writer of crime fiction, it stands to reason that I read a lot of the same. In doing so, I discover writers who are such amazing talents that I simply cannot get enough of their work. Such is the case with Ed McBain, creator of the 87th Precinct novels. Thankfully, for me, McBain was insanely prolific, AND I am an insanely slow reader. McBain has written so many 87th Precinct books over the years that there will be several that I haven't read for years to come. Between 1956 and 2005 McBain wrote almost sixty 87th Precinct novels.

One of the interesting things about these books is that they aren't about a specific lead character (as most series tend to be) but instead feature the station house. In fact, it can be said that the station house is a character all its own. What McBain did with each book was allowed the story to dictate which of the characters would take center-stage for this tale, and let the others fall back to become supporting characters. While in the next novel, the main characters would shift around. This was a first for police procedurals, and it was something that came naturally for McBain. Who, by the way, wasn't really Ed McBain.

Ed McBain's legal name was actually Evan Hunter. Hunter took on the McBain pseudonym in 1956 because he wanted to have a different name to use for his detective novels, rather than use the same name he was using for his "serious" novels. And, to be accurate, Evan Hunter wasn't really Evan Hunter. Evan Hunter was born on October 15, 1926 with the name Salvatore Albert Lombino. Sounds kind of like the name of a mobster, doesn't it? Then it was in 1952 that Evan Hunter came into existence.

During his early career, when Hunter was working at a literary agency and submitting short stories to various magazines, he utilized several different pseudonyms: Hunt Collins, Curt Cannon, Richard Marsten, Ezra Hannon and John Abbott, among others. However, not long after the appearance of Ed McBain, Hunter dropped the other pseudonyms because he was focusing most of his efforts on his novels, primarily those featuring the 87th Precinct.

Hunter started writing short stories while he served in the navy during WWII. He wrote several short stories while serving on a destroyer in the Pacific, though most of those stories were never published until after he established himself as a writer in the 1950s. He graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Hunter College majoring in English and Psychology with minors in dramatics and education. And then in 1981 he was inducted into the Hunter College Hall of Fame where he was honored for his outstanding professional achievement.

After hearing so much about McBain's work, and having read several pages from several different books, I decided to take a serious look. I decided that the best place to start was the beginning, so I read McBain's first 87th Precinct book, a novel called Cop Hater. Needless to say, I was instantly hooked. Going back to 1956 and reading a Police Procedural shows us clearly how much police work has evolved over the decades. What was once cutting-edge police work would be considered reckless and ineffectual by today's standards. However, if you read through the entire series (I've skipped around a little) you find that McBain progressed with that evolution so that the procedure in his books was always up-to-date for the time.

In addition to his crime novels, McBain also wrote screenplays. I am sure that many, if not most of you, have seen the movie The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock? That screenplay was written by McBain. If you haven't seen it, what's wrong with you? Rent it and watch it. It's Hitchcock. Need I say more?

I just finished reading a collection of McBain's short stories called Learning to Kill. Nearly every story in it was extraordinary. Of course, as is usually the case with collections, there are a couple of the stories that I didn't much care for. There are just some stories that don't work for me for one reason or another. Out of the twenty-five stories in the book, I truly enjoyed more than twenty of them. And if you know how hard I am to please, then you know that's saying a lot for McBain's short stories.

If you haven't yet read anything from McBain, go out and pick up a copy of Cop Hater. And if you agree with me, then go through the list in order. If, however, you want to read his more modern procedurals, start with Fiddlers (2005) and work your way backwards. Either way you go, once you start you're going to want to read them all. Ed McBain is truly a Grand Master!

Regular Schedule

I have dropped the ball. I want this page to be a place where I (and others) can talk about the process of writing, about the life of a writer, about the angst that comes with having a creative nature. But it's really hard to do that where there aren't any posts to discuss or comment on.

So ... I will get right to the point: beginning Sunday, October 21, I will post EVERY Sunday. And, when those times comes when something is bouncing around relentlessly in my head, I will put up an additional post. But I will keep myself to the every Sunday schedule. Also, for any of you who are following my Chrysanthemum Stone blog, my new plan with that blog is to publish a new post every Monday, beginning Monday, November 1, with an essay about one of my favorite authors, the late Ed McBain.

Thanks for being patient!

What's With the Prologues Already?

So ... I am wondering, What is it with writers who insist on using prologues? I believe, put quite simply, that a prologue is backstory. It is the information that the writer needs to know before he or she can write the book; it is, what he or she might believe to be, vital information the reader needs to know before getting into the story. A prologue can be either, neither or both of these things. However, there is one thing I can tell you with almost absolute certainty: it is not active! There is nothing happening. We are being told of events that have already taken place, which lead us to the point when the story actually begins. True, like with everything else, there are the exceptions to this. I have read a very very small number of books that start with a prologue and grip me from the first sentence. There are very few writers out there whom I believe are good enough to pull this off.

What usually happens is this: (Taken from current experience reading an author new to me) There is a prologue that feels somewhat detached from the main story. It gives us a lot of information, though nothing active, nothing that grabs us and gets our heart involved. Now, this heart involvement can come in many forms, from a pounding from suspense or fear, to a twittering from excitement, to a warmth from a feeling of romance or love. These are just some of the elements of a story that hook us and reel us in. So, this current book I am trying to read has not grabbed me. Now on the fourth chapter and nothing significant has happened yet, nothing is tugging. The summary on the book jacket made the story sound very compelling, very exciting. But so far there is nothing to suggest that there will be a decent pay-off at the end.

Don't ask which book I am talking about because I am not going to tell you. Sorry! Not trying to be mean to anyone here, so no names or titles will be mentioned.

I have a theory. Now, I might be way off with this but it's just a theory, it's just my opinion and personal observation. Prologues are a crutch. It's easier for a writer to get into the story and bring readers up to speed if they summarize a bunch of "important" information in the beginning. My feelings about this? If it's vital to the story, then it can be part of the story. If it's something important from the past of one or more of the characters, then it should be worked into the main body of the manuscript. Don't pull it off to the side like a sidebar or an endnote or something. If it's truly important then give it the respect it deserves. Is this easy? In most cases my guess would be no, it's not. Which is why we see prologues.

Here are some things to consider before using a prologue:

Is the information really important to the story?

Is it possible that you are starting the story too late?

Are there ways that this information could be incorporated into the main text so that it is more dramatic?

Example: In Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, there is some important backstory that we need to know about Francis Dolarhyde. Harris could have very easily put it all into a prologue. But had he done that it would have been boring because we had no reference point yet. Instead, after a few chapters he orchestrated a flashback (another device that needs to be used sparingly). What he has done is introduce us to the Tooth Fairy, this heartless and brutal killer of entire families, and make us curious about how he became what he is today. Once he had our attention, once we were on the edge of our seats reading with all the lights on, then he took us back in time. But he didn't TELL us anything, he SHOWED us. We got to see first hand how this poor little boy became a heartless killer. Harris makes us almost feel sorry for Francis. What Harris definitely succeeds in doing is showing us how Francis has justified his actions to himself.

Something I read once had to do with the shooting of movies. Each scene, even if there is no action at all, costs $35,000 to film. So a director needs to ask himself about every scene: is it worth $35,000? If not, cut it.

A similar question: Does this scene help the story? Does it move it forward? Or does it bring the action to a halt?

Bottom line: Time is just too short. There needs to be a pay-off in the immediate future to compel readers to read your story. Backstory is not compelling. Prologues (in almost every case) are not compelling. With a prologue, you have, more often than not, given your book two strikes. If your reader sticks it out and goes on to Chapter One, it had better be incredible, because otherwise it's strike three and you're out.

As I mentioned, like with every rule, there are exceptions. But if you're choosing to be one of those exceptions, make sure it's for the right reason and not because to NOT do it would be harder.

Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

A few weeks ago I was having a discussion with some good friends about suspense thrillers, specifically Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. As writers, we often find ourselves picking books apart, looking at them more critically than an average reader. Being a slow reader, I look closely at books that I am unable to put down, books that I finish in less than a week. For me, that's very fast. How envious I am of those of you out there who can read an entire book in a single read.



So, Red Dragon. For those of you who have read Silence of the Lambs (or even seen the movie), Red Dragon actually came first. It is in Red Dragon that we first meet Hannibal Lecter. Now, as a writer of suspense thrillers, I have found that Red Dragon is one of the most expertly written books out there. Thomas Harris didn't waste a single word with this book. From the first word of the first paragraph to the very last page, it is a display of absolute economy of words. If it's included between the two covers, then it is important to the story.

Let me show you what I mean. Here's an excerpt from the first page of Red Dragon:

Will Graham sat Crawford down at a picnic table between the house and the ocean and gave him a glass of iced tea.

Jack Crawford looked at the pleasant old house, salt-silvered wood in the clear light. "I should have caught you in Marathon when you got off work," he said. "You don't want to talk about it here."

"I don't want to talk about it anywhere, Jack. You've got to talk about it, so let's have it. Just don't get out any pictures. If you brought pictures, leave them in the briefcase--Molly and Willy will be home soon."

It's impossible to put this book down. And there is so much to learn from it: pacing, characterization, mood, setting, transition. No matter how many times I read the book I still find new things that impress me. Certainly, Red Dragon is a great book for one to emulate. Harris's mastery shines in this book. And while his other books are also worthy reads, Red Dragon, in my opinion, is his greatest achievement.

Let's look for a moment at the various characters he created in this book. First, we see Will Graham. Complete and well-rounded. He is one of the best profilers to ever come out of the FBI, complete with scars and baggage. Then we have Crawford. Graham's former boss at the bureau. He is, in the words of Molly Graham, "a damnably wise ape." He knows his job well enough to know that they need Graham.

Now for two of my favorites. Everyone, unless they have been living under a rock, knows of Hannibal Lecter. The diabolical killer, Hannibal the Cannibal. He is the villain that you love to hate. He's incredibly smart, yet he has that flaw which allows him to be caught by Graham -- he is insane. And then we have The Tooth Fairy. Francis Dolarhyde is a killer of families. But it isn't that simple. WHY he is a killer of families is so much more interesting to me. In fact, the why has always been more of what lured me into crime fiction to begin with. It is what keeps me excited and sitting at my desk day in and day out. So The Tooth Fairy kills families.

If you have ever seen the movies made from this book, first Manhunter (my favorite) and then Red Dragon, you will have seen a little of what I'm talking about. The movies touch on a little of what drives Francis Dolarhyde's homicidal tendencies. But if you read the book, which I strongly recommend that you do, you will have a much much better understanding of why he's such a troubled individual. We see more of the why. Does this justify his actions? Absolutely not. What it does is shows us that, in some twisted way, those actions ARE justified in the mind of the killer.

If you read only one book this summer, make it Red Dragon. And if you are a writer of suspense thrillers, buy two copies, one to read and keep on the shelf, and one to mark up and make notes in. Reading Red Dragon is the least expensive class you can take on writing thrillers.

Back-ups

The sad reality is that technology fails on us when we least expect it. And what makes it worse is that nowadays, with the advent of iPhones and iPads and Palm Pilots and such, we put more and more of our crucial information into ONE little electronic device. And how often have we been told a story by a friend or family member recounting how he or she lost everything, either from a crash or because the item was lost or stolen?

Call me old-fashioned, but I have resisted the iPhone craze. I prefer analog, pen-to-paper processes. Remember Dayrunners? The manual equivalent to the iPhone or Palm Pilot. True, those can still be lost or stolen. But the theft-appeal of such items is extremely low, and the likelihood of losing one is also low. They aren't small enough to set down someplace and forget.

So I have a Dayrunner which I have maintained for several years. I rather enjoy writing in it with a nice rollerball pen, entering important information or dates, etc.

Wait ... the point of this post isn't my Dayrunner, it's the failings of modern technology.

Okay. So... Recently, as some of you already know, my laptop computer died. Everything was lost. Thankfully, I had a back-up, but it was a few months old. So while I had most of my files, they were older versions. It has been a pain to recreate the lost versions and update my files. And each day I seem to be finding something else that isn't quite right that needs to be updated or recreated completely. This all takes time that I simply do not have.

Lesson learned?

Oh, yeah. Definitely! Now I have three copies of all my electronic files AT ALL TIMES. I am not going to put myself through this hell again. Something else this experience has done for me is taught me--finally--to be more organized with my electronic filing. It has been a long time coming, but I am glad I have finally reached this destination.

And to think, it has only taken me two dead laptops.

Rain and writing (and reading)

So ... this morning in Ventura it is a little blah looking outside. It's sprinkling a little bit, threatening to rain. And to most Californians it would be considered an ugly day. I, however, love this sort of weather.

My routine on days like this is simple: brew a pot of coffee, get set up at my desk, and work on my writing. In a couple of hours I need to go in to work at the post office, so I am getting as much done on my book as I can before then. So far this morning I have edited, corrected and printed one chapter, and I will be done with another before I have to change and be on my way. Definitely a great way to start off the day. Before I leave the house I already have a feeling of accomplishment.

There would be one slight difference to this routine if it were actually raining. If it were actually raining I would set myself up next to a window with a piping hot cup of coffee, crack open whatever book I am currently reading, and relax and read until either it stopped raining or I had to head off to work. You see ... in California there aren't many opportunities to read while listening to the rain pitter-pattering on the roof and window pane. So when the opportunity presents itself, I try my best to take advantage of it. Really, is there anything more relaxing than that? And if you're reading a particularly good book, then all the better.

All right, back to work for me. One more chapter to edit, correct, and print before I head out.

The Felt Pen is mightier than the ... Leatherman?

So ... this isn't exactly related to writing, but it's something that I still find quite interesting and, perhaps, just a bit disturbing. Yesterday I went with my son's high school music department--as a chaperone--to Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia. A fun day was had by all. However, there was something interesting about the outing.

When we arrived and were all approaching the entrance, we had to go though the security check. First, we had to pass through a metal detector, then we had to have our bags searched by security personnel. Since I was going to be on chaperone duty, and knew that I would be spending part of the day sitting alone by the front gate area, I brought my backpack, which is filled with what I am reading and writing, as well as pens, pencils, paper, etc. The tools of the trade for a writer.

Now, let me back up just a bit.

For Christmas a couple of years back, my son gave me a Mini Leatherman tool, which I sometimes remember to carry in my pocket. It has the basic tools: screwdriver, file, bottle opener ... and ... a knife. This time I forgot to take it OUT of my pocket and leave it at home, knowing that weapons (of any kind) are not allowed in the park. I thought, Damn! I'm either going to have to take it back to the bus or lose it. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I set off the buzzer. They sent me back to go through it again, and, surprisingly (or maybe not so), it didn't go off this time. Of course, since I knew I wasn't going to use it as a weapon, I did not volunteer that I had the Leatherman in my pocket.

Now ... here's the funny part. While searching my bag the guy found ... a Sharpie. I have it in my backpack to label folders or address large envelopes, things like that. Imagine my surprise when the guy told me I couldn't take the felt pen into the park. I looked at him dumbfounded and asked, "What?"

"We don't allow felt pens in the park," he said.

At this point I WANTED to tell him that I had a knife in my pocket. But reason won out and I kept my mouth shut. I am not stupid, I understand that the taggers out there who have never been taught that it is not acceptable to deface the property of others have made certain things tough for the rest of us. Felt pens aren't allowed because idiots mark up the park. Of course, we've all seen it. We can't go into a single public restroom without seeing the work of taggers. So ...

I'm not certain what the point of this post is, but what I am certain of is that the events of yesterday morning only solidify my belief that much of the so called security measures in place in our country are ineffectual and worthless, and only serve to waste time. They give the illusion of security, but never truly protect us from potential danger. Thankfully, this wasn't a big deal this time. I was going to an amusement park to have a fun day. And most of the people in attendance, I'm sure, were only there to do the same.

But what if I intended to do someone harm? I could have. The blade on this Leatherman is large enough and sharp enough that, if used effectively, could certainly be a deadly weapon. So ... had I intended to cause harm to someone, I could have ... easily. Only I wouldn't have been able to Tag the area to announce to the cops that I had been the one to do it.