Crafting Intricate Plots: My Writing Process

I’m not one of those writers who can sit at the keyboard and let his characters take over completely–not that there’s anything wrong with that. Many people enjoy a fast, light-weight story, but I prefer to read more intricate plots, so that’s what I write.

Intricate PlotsThe premise for my first novel, The Jinx, had been brewing in my mind for years: could a conspiracy theory explain the “20-year jinx“–the phenomenon that saw U.S. presidents elected every 20 years from 1840 to 1980 either die in office or survive an assassination attempt? From that spark, I began brainstorming how such a plan could be perpetuated across generations, how it could avoid detection. What could have motivated such a passionate hatred?

At the same time I was hatching this nutty scheme, I searched for a protagonist who could unearth it in a natural manner, without relying on coincidence, yet still a rare enough occurrence to explain why nobody else had ever stumbled upon it. I came up with a raw Trust & Estates lawyer, Benjamin Franklin Kravner, who discovers a clue among a dead client’s sealed papers when he makes a rookie mistake.

This brought me to a critical decision, one that could end in a disastrous false start if I failed to think through the key twists before writing. Would the clue Ben found turn out to be merely a mad conspiracy theorist’s ramblings or a road map for a real assassination attempt? I won’t tell you the route I chose, but The Jinx would have been a vastly different novel had I gone the other way.

Once my path was set, I began to outline the main plot, focusing on critical twists and then imagining the scenes that connected them. For each scene, my outline listed the setting, players, character developments, plot advancements, and a placeholder for later thoughts on incorporating themes. The outline took the form of a calendar–anchoring the story against a timeline helped me create the urgency that propels a thriller forward.

While still outlining, I figured Ben needed a high-placed source to help him confound the real or imagined conspiracy, so I created another character who also gives the reader an inside look at the presidential campaign. Her subplot introduces high-powered suspects whose political wrangling may or may not be indicative of a conspiracy that would place the life of her candidate, the sitting Vice President, in danger.

When I began to weave the subplots together, layering in connective details and themes, my ruminations about the passionate hatred necessary to motivate the conspiracy bore fruit. I saw a parallel between the way racism is passed down from generation to generation, one father to each son, and the way the conspiracy could have been perpetuated. The goal of the plot became grander–a second civil war–and a third point-of-view character, a pugnacious female reporter, was born to carry a subplot about growing hostilities between the white supremacy movement and a nascent black resistance.

So what started out as a somewhat whimsical tale about a bumbling lawyer chasing a conspiracy theory emerged as three intricately-crafted subplots woven together by a serious theme. While The Jinx still requires some suspension of disbelief, careful research, the credibility of the characters and their motivations, and the forethought that went into linking the plot lines earned the book excellent reviews and endorsements from civil rights leaders.

I developed the plot for King of Paine in a similar fashion. My brainstorming once again started with the underlying crime and the perpetrator’s motivation. The story follows two seemingly unrelated investigations, FBI agent Frank Paine’s pursuit of a stalker committing a series of kinky Internet crimes and a reporter, Roger Martin, tracking the disappearance of wealthy senior citizens across the nation. But as the perp’s unseen narrative is exposed, the two stories connect, with both men driven toward the same mysterious place. A series of twists leads up to a finale in which the main characters’ lives hang on resolution of a seemingly irresolvable dilemma.

It would have been impossible to craft this story without an outline because much of the mystery is created by the complex relationships among the characters and the precise timing with which pivotal facts are revealed. The two stories needed to unfold together at exactly the right pace over a two-week period, which I tracked using a timeline displaying daily advancements in character, plot, and themes.

But crafting an intricate plot is more than simply animating a detailed outline. As the characters and story come to life on the pages, opportunities are revealed for layering in subplots (the erotic cat-and-mouse game between Frank Paine and an old flame), themes (personal accountability of the terminally ill), and the little puzzles that sustain suspense even during lulls in the action.

I’ll close with an example of how a subtle thread woven into King of Paine‘s fabric helps hold it together. In chapter one, a victim utters an odd phrase as a cry of distress. Over the course of the story it’s revealed that the phrase is a line of poetry that has entered common usage, a main character authored the poem, and another significant character took life-changing actions because of its influence–actions that go to the heart of the story’s mystery. That simple, five-word phrase adds another layer of complexity that helps give the novel a polished, integrated feel.

Author Interview Roundtable

In connection with the launch of King of Paine, several fantastic book bloggers honored me with interviews posted on their websites. Here’s the best of the Q&A, which I like to imagine occurred with the five intrigued ladies peppering me with questions across a round table beside a roaring fireplace while I answered coolly between sips of hot cocoa. (I know, Hemingway I am not.)

Holly, Full Moon Bites: Hello Larry! Would you care to tell us a little bit about yourself?round table3

Larry Kahn: I’m a thriller/suspense writer who spent 20 years masquerading as an attorney. Remnants from those two decades of “research” tend to show up in my novels. I live in suburban Atlanta with my wife and have two sons graduating Georgia State University this spring.

Misty, The Top Shelf: What led you to writing?

LK: I was born to write. My life story is more about what led me away from it. I won book review contests as a first grader, always had a writing class on my schedule, and wrote for my college newspaper. But it was too hard to pass up Yale Law School for a sports reporting gig at a local rag. In the end, my 20-year legal career navigating the world of international mergers and acquisitions gave me the life experience to write more interesting novels.

Natalie, Purple Jelly Bean Chair Reviews: What books have most influenced your writing and why?

LK: The Odessa File by Frederick Forsyth, because I read it at an impressionable age and loved the way the author hid the critical clue in plain sight. When the protagonist revealed whodunit, I felt awe and not at all cheated. That’s a lesson I hope I apply in my writing–I want the reader to feel the suspense, struggling to solve critical puzzles along with the protagonist but then doing a classic palm slap to the forehead when the twist is revealed. “Damn, I should have seen that!”

The Firm by John Grisham, because the author showed that lawyers and the issues they address can thrill.

Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, because the author demonstrated that intelligence can be sexy, that suspense can be created with words as well as actions, and that fiction can be a medium for political philosophy. I think her philosophy is flawed, but that’s a topic I could write an entire essay about.

On Writing by Sol Stein, because this is my bible for novel mechanics. I re-read sections of it before I start each major draft.

Vanessa, Boekie’s Book Reviews: Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

LK: That reminds me of the interview scene at the end of the movie Almost Famous, where William Miller, the teenage freelancer for Rolling Stone, finally gets to interview his rock hero and asks, “What do you love about music?” A smile comes over the guitarist’s face as he pulls up a chair and sighs, “Everything.” I find everything about writing challenging in a good way. It’s easy to put words on paper, as the proliferation of new fiction in the marketplace demonstrates, but it’s incredibly difficult–and rewarding–to craft an intricate, relevant, and entertaining novel. I love trying to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

Kathy, Hampton Reviews: Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

LK: My process allows for writer’s block, even counts on it. While I’m writing I allocate time to three tasks, depending upon my creativity, sharpness, and mood. Writing requires the most creative energy. If I’m sharp but not creative I’ll spend my day researching. If I wake up feeling dopey, I edit. I do a lot of editing.

Holly: Can you tell us a little bit about your first novel The Jinx?

LK: A young estate lawyer discovers a cryptic poem among his murdered client’s possessions that hints at a 160-year vendetta against the American presidency. His skepticism wanes when he discovers an unusual phenomenon–the presidents elected every twenty years from 1840 through 1960 died in office, and Ronald Reagan barely survived an assassination attempt. His perilous journey leads him to the answer to his question: is the poem merely a dead man’s wacky conspiracy theory or is a powerful cabal primed to claim the White House as vengeance for their ancestor’s death?

Holly: What was your inspiration for this novel?

LK: My high school Civics teacher joked about the “20-Year Jinx” as the 1980 presidential campaign approached. It intrigued me, and when President Reagan was shot in 1981 the notion of a multi-generational conspiracy took root in my mind. I finally wrote the novel while on sabbatical in 1998-1999 so that it could be published before the 2000 presidential election.

Holly: Is The Jinx the first full length novel you wrote or just the first to be published?

LK: It was the first novel. Several prior works of fiction remain unpublished and are stamped “Legal Memorandum.”

Natalie: Is this book [King of Paine] part of a series?

LK: My original intent was for King of Paine to be the second book in a series, but my protagonist in The Jinx, a young lawyer, fell flat as an FBI agent. Paine finally came together when I went for the Hollywood upgrade, bringing in a former action star with a kinky past to replace my heroic, ordinary guy lawyer. Frank Paine’s history made the character motivations more authentic and freed me to explore more interesting (kinkier?) plot developments.

Kathy: Why did you write this book?

LK: King of Paine is a complex story with many inspirations. One of the first was my own musings about the personal accountability of the terminally ill. It’s natural for any of us to have a violent urge from time to time, but fear of God or imprisonment keep most of us from acting on it. I questioned what moral forces would keep a desperate patient in check if the law and religion weren’t enough. I set my “villain” loose to see how far he would go. He went pretty far. [For more, read my blog post, “My Inspirations for King of Paine"]

Misty: Were there ever moments where the story didn’t go the way you planned or personally wanted it to go? How did you deal with that?

LK: I’m a problem-solver by nature–I enjoy the little puzzles that constantly arise when you’re crafting a complex story. Sometimes I go down what seems like a great path and then come to a point where I can’t connect another path without relying on coincidence, so I either have to make an adjustment in one or both paths to set the stage for the intersection of the plot lines more organically or just scrap the idea and start over. That’s the beauty of outlining before writing, though–I never find myself in the awful spot of having to choose between scrapping great pages or relying upon a cheesy coincidence to make the story work. I hate when I’m reading a thriller and solutions magically appear. That’s bad planning.

Natalie: When you start to write a new novel, what is the process for you, do you start with a small idea and when you sit to write is that when the story starts to flow, or, before you start to write do you already have the whole story worked out?

LK: I like intricate plots, and they cannot be crafted on the fly. I brainstorm several main plot and character ideas and think through how they might fit together. I do a lot of my best plotting while I’m lying in bed, mind spinning wildly at 3am, 4am, 5am. It drives my wife crazy because I’m constantly running downstairs to write something in my notebook so I can get it off my mind and sleep. Then, when I’m on a roll, I use a mapping software program called Mind Manager to build characters and their motivations, plots and subplots, and imagine how they might intersect. Because I don’t want to be trite or irrelevant, I intentionally try out a few crazy ideas and see where they take me. I want my characters to dream big. I throw a lot in the trash, but some of the crazy stuff sticks and, I think, works in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way. When your followers read about “The Pit” in King of Paine, they will remember this question and chuckle. [See my guest post, “Crafting Intricate Plots"]

Vanessa: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

LK: I do like to weave social themes into my novels, but I try not to be preachy. I include multiple perspectives through characters whose views are expressed organically, with a proper foundation layered into the plot and consistent with the characters’ established personalities and beliefs. Some issues are controversial, others less so. I’d like to think that the subtle call for a renewed emphasis on family and tradition in King of Paine is not. I think readers who see the book’s cover may be surprised to hear that’s the issue I want to talk about, but the story is about so much more than that provocative image suggests. [See my blog post, “Weaving Social Themes Into Suspense Novels”]

Kathy: Who is your favorite character in your books? Why?

LK: Angela del Rio–the “Angel of the River”–is a mysterious and brilliant woman in King of Paine who spreads joy like a contagion to everyone she meets. She’s my favorite because she’s inspired by my wife, who shares those qualities. [See my blog post, “My Hero, My Wife, and a Purple Donkey”]

Vanessa: Which character was the most fun to write?

LK: Frank Paine. I was able to shut the filters off and channel my inner jackass. One of the themes brewing below the surface of King of Paine is that we are who we let the world see through our words and actions, not our thoughts. When I was writing as Frank, I found myself thinking thoughts I ordinarily wouldn’t even dare to let myself think, never mind say aloud. And since Frank’s pre-FBI background is as a Hollywood actor, I also enjoyed creating his mindset, frequently drawing on well-known scenes from movies to inspire his reaction to obstacles he faced. There are a couple of passages that still crack me up when I reread them, like an unflattering image of Jack Nicholson at a Playboy Mansion party that Frank can’t get out of his head at an inopportune moment.

Vanessa: What was the hardest part of writing your book?

LK: The hardest part was trying to make Frank Paine, a deeply flawed man, a protagonist readers can get behind. He wronged the woman he loves, but he’d give up his life to earn her forgiveness. I hope his remorse, fundamental integrity, and determination to fight his darker impulses will ultimately win readers’ hearts. [See my blog post, “Rooting for a Flawed Protagonist"]

Misty: Can you tell us a bit about what you’re working on right now if you’re working on anything at all?

LK: I’m still outlining my next thriller, tentatively entitled Hostile Takeover. My protagonist discovers a conspiracy by Asian sovereign investment funds to acquire vital U.S. companies and subvert the government. I’m still debating whether to have my protagonist take heroic action to save the American way of life or write the last third of the book in Chinese. I know, tough call, right?

When Eye Candy Fights Back: Adding Depth To a Love Interest

Frank Paine, the protagonist in King of Paine, is a former Hollywood stud who’s recently joined the FBI, a role that screams for a centerfold on his arm. As a former beauty queen and TV starlet, Jolynn Decker could easily fall into the “eye candy” stereotype, a conclusion not contradicted by our first look at her:

Time had faded his memory of Jolynn’s face, one that would drive a caricaturist mad for its lack of imperfections—fair skin, dainty nose, and mirthful, almond-shaped eyes. Her blond mane cascaded over a narrow-waisted, red winter coat like water flowing over a falls.

But as mentioned in previous posts, I rebel against stereotypes. As the story progresses, the feisty Atlantan alternates among suspect, tease, lover, sidekick, and victim, revealing more of her complex motives and nature with each new plot twist. I’m declaring this space a spoiler-free zone, so make assumptions about the order she takes on these roles at your own peril. My goal today is to share some of the techniques used to help Jolynn fight back against the eye candy stereotype.

I view “eye candy” as a character whose principal appeal is physical beauty, whether male or female, and these characters have their place in literature. Much of James Bond’s mojo derives from his legendary ability to snare the sexiest women with a wayward glance. Romance novels are rife with manly hunks with ripped abs and not much upstairs (so I hear). My own first novel, The Jinx, features several strong-willed and intelligent woman who tangle with my ordinary guy hero, but I couldn’t resist giving him one piece of sugar pie for dessert (call it a gift to ordinary guys everywhere).

In King of Paine, though, Frank Paine’s reformed womanizer needed a real femme fatale to tempt him, an attraction deeper than physical beauty, a chick who could drive him to play outside the FBI’s rules, maybe even sacrifice his life. So I gave Frank and Jolynn a passionate history, a true love affair that ended after a kinky Hollywood scandal destroyed her budding TV career but left him unscathed. Although Frank never stopped loving her, they haven’t spoken in three years when his new career in the FBI takes him to her native Atlanta.

Jolynn’s festering anger, the unknown depth of her emotional injuries, makes her reaction to Frank’s presence unpredictable. So when an anonymous online stalker threatens to reveal Frank’s kinky secrets shortly after he arrives in town, he’s forced to confront Jolynn. She expects (or pretends to expect?) an apology, so you can imagine the tension in that reunion when he accuses her of a crime. By building conflict into their history, I was able to magnify Jolynn’s emotional reaction to the accusation.

To add to her mystery, their story is told only from Frank’s point of view. Like Frank, you hear Jolynn’s words and gauge her actions, but her real-life erotic cat-and-mouse game with him eerily resembles the tactics employed by the stalker taunting the FBI. Her shrouded motives make her seem capable of both love and revenge, and she’s a clever enough actress to fool the Bureau–and maybe even you. Jolynn’s ever-changing role in Frank’s investigation and in his life places her at the heart of the story, not just on Frank’s arm and in his bed.

The Fiscal Cliff: A Return To Reason?

In the wake of the election, it’s nice to hear the usual DC suspects singing a tune of unity rather than obstruction. Time will tell if the principals in this stage show–President Obama, Senate Majority Leader Reid and Speaker of the House John Boehner–back up their words with action, but they seem to have received the message from the American people that politically-motivated inaction will not be tolerated as we march toward the so-called “fiscal cliff.”

Nobody expects the parties to come to the table with a final compromise already in hand, but the Republicans’ insistence on framing their opening gambit as a compromise worries me. While Speaker Boehner’s speech today carried a conciliatory tone, he made it clear that Republicans are still stuck on the same supply-side economic theories that have been offered up as justification for tax cuts for the rich. The argument goes that taxpayers in the highest tax brackets operate small businesses, these businesses are the engine for job creation, and lower taxes for these businesses will spur said job creation. Therefore, Republicans argue, if the government must raise revenue (insert huge sigh here), it should be done through “tax reform,” i.e., eliminating loopholes and limiting deductions. This approach, they say, will lead to economic growth, rising personal income for all, and (drumroll) an increase in tax revenues.

This has the political advantage of sounding really, really good. It suffers from the dual flaws of being false and unfair.

Let me be clear, tax cuts for the wealthy will (all other things being equal) lead to an increase in growth. The fallacy here is that tax cuts must be targeted to the wealthy to achieve this growth. The growth will be generated from increased spending on goods and services, whether that spending is by weatlhy, middle class or poor consumers. Think about it. Why would a small business owner hire a new employee just because the owner will get to keep an extra 5% of the business’s net income? The owner is going to keep the profits and spend the cash himself unless he needs the new employee because of increased demand for his business’s goods or services. Increased demand generates jobs; a mere increase in cash available to a business won’t. Look at all the cash sitting on the sidelines in today’s business environment!

What’s even more disingenuous about the Republicans’ broad tax cuts is that they way overshoot the target–only a small percentage of wealthy taxpayers are small business owners. Corporate executives, entertainers, athletes, doctors, lawyers, bankers, and investors fill these brackets and benefit from the lower rates even if they don’t employ a single person. Republicans also favor reduced or zero tax rates on dividends and capital gains, which disproportionately benefit the rich while having little or no targeted impact on job creation.

The bottom line is that tax cuts do spur economic growth but by increasing demand for goods and services by consumers generally; targeting the extra cash towards the wealthy provides no special job creation benefit. In fact, cash reaching the hands of consumers through government spending impacts economic growth in exactly the same way as a tax cut. Framing the debate over the budget deficit as a “spending problem, not a revenue problem” is perhaps the greatest deceit perpetrated by either political party. By definition, a deficit is an excess of expenditures over revenues, and it’s a mathematical truism that spending and revenues effect the deficit equally.

If the nation’s goal is to reduce budget deficits, the balance between raising tax revenue and cutting spending programs is simply a matter of choosing WHO will have less cash to spend at the end of the year. The net effect on economic growth will be roughly the same no matter who bears the pain of the fiscal policy directly, The allocation is purely about fairness and political might.

Note that if deficits are to be reduced, the net effect on economic growth will be negative, not positive. Jobs will be lost, not gained, as a result of the decline in consumption by affected citizens. If we’re deficit cutting, the Republican fixation on job creation is specious, and their attempt to place the entire burden on the poor and the elderly while preserving the unpaid-for tax cuts that created this fiscal mess borders on criminally fraudulent.

Policy-makers need to first determine how much the deficit needs to be cut over what period of time, and then they must decide who’s going to bear the burden. A detailed fiscal plan is beyond the scope of this rant, but the starting place should be the reversal of the Bush tax cuts. An additional ten-year surtax applicable to the highest tax brackets should be considered to pay back the unpaid-for tax cuts they received over the past ten years. That should still leave plenty of deficit reduction to place on the backs of the elderly and the poor–whose income stagnated during the Bush decade–through cuts in entitlement programs. Half the battle is determining the equitable starting place for determining a fair allocation of the tax burden, and I’d go back to the last time the nation was in surplus, before the unfunded Bush tax cuts and wars.

As a closing observation, many economists argue that deficit cutting is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing during a period of slow growth. They would prescribe a delicate balancing act, actually increasing the deficit temporarily with stimulus (whether spending initiatives or tax cuts) while passing legislation that would pare spending and boost taxes in the long run to achieve deficit reduction when the economy is healthier and self-generating more tax revenues. That may be a difficult gambit for the partisans in DC to pull off,  but perhaps a harbinger of things to come if our current leaders fail to reach a reasonable compromise is the arrival of Angus King on the national scene. The newly-elected Independent senator from Maine views himself as a moderate who might bridge the gap between extremists in both major parties. If our representatiives fail to overcome their fiscal divide, perhaps King will serve as a model candidate for a third party movement backed by independent voters and disenchanted moderates affiliated with both parties.

My Inspiration For King of Paine

I’m often asked about my inspiration for King of Paine because the story melds two wildly different story lines (and because one of them centers around some pretty kinky sex, and on first sight I seem about as vanilla as it gets). In the main story, Special Agent Frank Paine hunts an online stalker who’s taunting him with crimes hinting at the agent’s own kinky past. At the same time, reporter Roger Martin is guided by an angelic woman to investigate missing senior citizens across the country. Naturally, the two plot lines connect in a shocking way.

Many authors look to their characters for inspiration; I tend to become intrigued by a plot point or theme first and then build characters around that. Given King of Paine’s split personality, it’s not surprising that it was inspired by two distinct ideas.

After receiving nice feedback about the sex scenes in The Jinx, my mind was predisposed to pursuing an erotic theme in the next book, and a case study in Psychology Today piqued that interest. The details escape me, but my recollection is that a woman had met a man in an online sex chat room and, after establishing a relationship, agreed to reenact a bondage fantasy in a live meeting. During the encounter she attempted to withdraw consent. The article examined the effectiveness of prior consent as a legal defense when the ability to withdraw it is impaired.

That case study led me to build a plot line around the world of online BDSM chat and the mix of ordinary people and devious predators who inhabit it. Even the wary may find it impossible to distinguish an innocent geek exploring his or her dark fantasies from a warped freak intent on doing harm. It made me wonder where that line could be drawn, and Frank Paine navigates that issue as he sorts victims from suspects.

My second inspiration derived from musings about personal accountability of the terminally ill. It’s natural to have a violent urge from time to time, but fear of God or imprisonment prevents most of us from acting on it. I questioned what moral forces would keep a desperate patient in check when the law and religion were less motivating. Consider this snippet from a conversation between Frank Paine and his FBI colleague, the cyber agent Jeronimo Reyes:

Jero sipped his coffee, contemplating his response. “I think we rely upon the good faith of strangers for our survival every day. I’m less comfortable when strangers don’t believe in the salvation of their soul, and the law fails to act as a backstop. And, for all the wonderful things people say about Simone Perlow, until we have the chance to interview her, she’s still a stranger to me—as is your new girlfriend, by the way.”

Several characters stricken with cancer figure prominently in the story, including Simone Perlow, the co-founder of an organization called Doctors With Cancer. This gave me an opportunity to experiment with how different people react to the same stressors. An FBI profiler can analyze a crime and predict with some statistical accuracy many of the demographic and psychological qualities of the perpetrator. When faced with a stressful change in life like loss of health, employment, or a loved one, some people snap.

Yet the predictive quality of these triggers runs only one way. No profiler can foretell how any particular person will react. Like my characters in King of Paine, some snap, others take courageous action. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.

The Chop, The Beast & The Infield Fly Rule

The knock on me as a sportswriter for the Albany Student Press back in the early 80s was that I wrote with my heart instead of my brain. After a December 7th triple-overtime loss by my beloved Great Danes to the national powerhouse Potsdam Bears (Albany played in Division III at the time), I evoked the memory of Pearl Harbor in my lead and an outpouring of passion took the story downhill from there. But I also wrote a column entitled “The Beast Lives” that captured the emotion of the crowd, when we all come together as one for a common cause, our energy forming a whole with greater power and heart than the sum of our individual passions. After thirty years of dormancy, The Beast came alive for me at Turner Field last night as 50,000 tomahawk-chopping fans first lifted the Braves to heroic heights and then transformed into a lynch mob a hair-trigger away from scalping an umpire for his errant application of the infield fly rule. Upon reflection, the experience makes me wonder what great or horrible things we could do if we breathed life into The Beast for something that really mattered.

As a lifelong sports fan whose recent outpourings of emotion have been limited to bongoing The Chop anthem from the safety of my recliner, being a part of the crowd at Turner Field for the Braves’ do-or-die Wild Card matchup against the Cardinals was the experience of a lifetime. Many baseball traditionalists mock The Chop, but I believe the attraction of attending a major sporting event is to become a part of something larger than ourselves, to pour our collective passions into a common cause. It’s a lot safer and easier to organize than a revolution, and nobody does it better than the Braves Nation.

With everything at stake for the Braves and their fans, we were ready, 50,000 strong, to will the home team to victory. Prompted by the electronic drumbeat blasted over the stadium loudspeakers, we chopped. At first we chopped with questionable synchronicity and our war howls were inhibited by the shackles of our proper selves, but soon our foam tomahawks began to sway closer and closer to unison, our whoops grew louder and fiercer powered by our collective soul. By the time David Ross clobbered the home run that broke a scoreless tie, we were rocking The Ted with a fearsome war chant that would strike fear into the hearts of any enemy. The Beast lived!

The crowd’s energy ebbed and flowed with the Braves’ fortunes, but with the home team down 6-3 in the bottom of the eighth and threatening to rally, we were chopping and chanting as one unified fighting force, a force that turned ugly when the leftfield umpire called Andrelton Simmons, the Braves shortstop, automatically out on a 225-foot “infield fly” just before the ball dropped untouched to the grass between two converging Redbirds. At first the crowd roared happily at the Braves’ good luck, not realizing the infield fly rule had been invoked (a natural reaction as we have since learned that this fly ball was about 50 feet deeper into the outfield than any other “infield fly” that had dropped this year). But when it became clear that Simmons had been called out, bedlam erupted. The Beast, once unleashed, could not be harnessed. The enthusiastic crowd became an unruly mob that rained beer cans and other debris onto the field amid shouts of “scalp the ump”! It was not Atlanta’s proudest moment.

My first temptation is to write a scathing analysis of this misapplication of the infield fly rule, not as a justification for the inexcusable behavior of the crowd/mob, but as an emotionally injured fan who happens to be a baseball wonk. The infield fly rule is designed to protect baserunners on a play where the fielder has an easy opportunity to intentionally let the ball drop to take advantage of the baserunners’ confusion to collect multiple outs. The umpire’s call must be immediate and clear to allow the baserunners to return safely to their bases and advance only at their peril. Yesterday, the ump waited until the last second on a play where the converging fielders were confused, relatively deep in the outfield, and the baserunners had no opportunity to retreat safely. That worked to the Braves advantage in that the runners were able to advance on the play, but they should not have suffered the automatic out when the baserunners bore the risk of being trapped off base if the ball had been caught.

Upon further reflection, though, I think the more interesting point to be taken in these uncertain times is that the power of the mob to create a force greater than the individuals that compose it can inspire heroics or magnify our worst impulses. It makes me wonder what great things we could accomplish as a nation if rather than waiting for our leaders to inspire us to rally around the common causes in which most of us believe–fiscal moderation, full employment, education, innovation, equal opportunity, a safe environment for future generations–we rose together as one to elect new ones who will end the current atmosphere of negativity and obstruction and compromise reasonably over our differences. Let The Beast live.

Buried Treasures: Treats for the Watchful Reader

For me, writing is a lonely sport, thousands of hours invested in a novel with only sporadic feedback from my critique group and beta readers. In early drafts, when I’m focused on building characters and weaving plots together, solving the puzzles that make a novel sizzle provides its own thrill. The grind of revising later drafts can become tiresome, though, and I find myself yearning for more entertaining tasks. One I particularly enjoy is planting buried treasures for watchful readers to find. (I’m easily entertained–ask me the capitol of any state!)

Some of these little Easter eggs are identifiable only to a limited audience (like significant dates, meaningful numerology, and “coincidental” character names or descriptions), but others take the form of homages, themes, and trivia I hope will intrigue others.

For example, movie fans will like the way Frank Paine, my protagonist in King of Paine, thinks. He’s a former Hollywood stud who’s joined the FBI in search of redemption for his excesses. He draws inspiration from his old acting mentor and the way respected actors have handled various predicaments on film. In one scene, Frank throws a punch at an armed adversary and then has immediate regrets:

Hand stinging, Frank bounced on his toes like a boxer, poised to deliver another blow if Zack wanted to duke it out. The big guy’s surprise showed in his blue eyes, the only feature he shared with his kid sister. He looked like a denim gorilla. An angry denim gorilla with a forty-five caliber, FBI-issued Glock.

Frank recalled the famous scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where an Arabian swordsman dazzles Indiana Jones with his ferocious blade work until Harrison draws his pistol and slays him with a smirk and a single shot. Maybe we should’ve thought this plan all the way through, old man. His mental image of Lee Fields shrugged. That’s why we have rewrites, Frankie Boy.

I love movies, and these homages to notable actors and films are littered throughout the story. Frank’s status as a former insider also created some irresistible opportunities to poke fun at the Hollywood scene. I crack up every time I re-read his troubling flashback about Jack Nicholson in a Speedo at a Playboy Mansion party. (As mentioned earlier, I’m easily entertained.)

Tributes to authors who have inspired me also dot my writing. While my novels read at contemporary thriller pace, some themes and devices are drawn from surprising sources.

Umberto Eco’s Foucalt’s Pendulum can be dense at times, but the story is amazing (spoiler alert). When an intellectual’s research unearths a medieval list which could be interpreted to describe a centuries-long conspiracy, or not, a group of pseudo-conspirators take up the ancient cause with tragic consequences. In my first novel, The Jinx, a young lawyer inadvertently discovers a cryptic poem hinting at a 140-year conspiracy against the American presidency. In case Eco’s influence was not apparent, a character in my novel recognizes the similarity of the presidential conspiracy to Eco’s contrivance and speculates that the poem may be the work of pseudo-conspirators like in Foucalt’s Pendulum. This uncertainty whether the scheme is real or imagined propels the suspense in the early going.

King of Paine more subtly honors another favorite, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. While that story rants against the alienation of wealth producers who ultimately rebel against over-taxation by fleeing to a hidden free market commune, King of Paine suggests that focusing on achievement and greed at the expense of family and tradition can lead to alienation of a different sort. Lonely seniors are drawn to another secret haven where a reclusive biochemist is either curing or killing them with a mysterious new drug. See if you can spot my own take on Rand’s classic “Who is John Galt?” line, a literary device that creates suspense without any action or threat whatsoever.

Another understated theme in King of Paine takes cues from classic fiction. I’ve been running a contest on my website in which a $50 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift certificate will be awarded to the first reader to correctly identify all three literal and figurative references to a legendary novel buried within King of Paine. One is easy, but no one has found all three yet. Can you?

Hiding Easter eggs in books may seem trivial (okay, it is trivial), but few things give me more pleasure than when a reader gets excited about finding one. After I left my first law firm in 1992, I lost touch with several valued colleagues. A few months after The Jinx came out, a senior lawyer called me out of the blue after recognizing an expression he invented (look for my hero’s “clong”–the sickening feeling of one’s stomach accelerating into the throat–and the stunning twist that prompts it). My old friend’s joy in being honored this way was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had as a writer.

So if you read one of my books and discover a buried treasure that makes you smile, drop me a note. Maybe I’ll name a character after you!

 

Researching An FBI Story

King of Paine is a complex story with many subplots and themes, but at heart it’s about a flawed man, Frank Paine, seeking redemption by joining an organization striving to recapture its own fabled mojo after a string of historic failures. With the ghosts of Waco, Ruby Ridge, and 9/11 whispering in his ear, Frank’s first case forces him to bridge the divide between the FBI’s Old School dinosaurs and a new breed of agents personified by the debonair Jeronimo Reyes and his Cyber Squad cohorts.

The Bureau is in fact reinventing itself to combat 21st century challenges like terrorism and cyber security, creating another set of challenges for an author intent on providing an authentic reading experience. While I took a few liberties, several amazing resources helped me paint Frank Paine’s FBI with true colors. My research covered several areas: Bureau history and organization, federal laws and jurisdiction, agent mindset and anecdotes, investigative procedure, authentication of details, and settings.

The best introduction to the FBI is a visit to the agency’s own website. Volumes of pages detail the Bureau’s history and organization and provide a treasure trove of data for the curious reader.

As a lawyer myself, I’m a stickler for getting the law right in my novels (or at least the appearance of right!). One mistake some aspiring crime writers make is inserting the FBI into their stories without first confirming the crimes in question fall within the Bureau’s jurisdiction. Generally, the FBI only enforces federal laws, so they wouldn’t be called in to investigate a murder or sexual assault. One of the first conflicts in King of Paine is over jurisdiction–Frank attempts to exclude the Atlanta police from a sexual assault case by arguing federal cyberstalking laws apply. His personal connection to that case–a link to his secret past–fuels the main plotline, so his control of the investigation is critical to the story.

An author has leeway in developing characters in any profession, and avoiding stereotypes is something I strive to do. Frank Paine is a former actor, not the typical FBI career path; I describe him as a tennis player in a locker room full of linebackers. That said, I wanted to capture the lingo, unwritten rules, and cliques unique to this locker room. Several memoirs by former special agents and Internet forums populated by them gave me a peek into the Bureau mystique. Through their anecdotes, I picked up procedural tips, jargon and hints at the agent mindset that add spice to King of Paine.

Then I dove inside the belly of the beast. Okay, it was more like an appointment with a couple of linebackers, Special Agents Stephen Emmett and Jerry Reichard of the Atlanta Field Office, but the adventure still made my heart pound. (I don’t get out much.)

The meeting was arranged by Chris Allen of the FBI’s Investigative Publicity & Public Affairs division based in Washington, whose office provides a liaison between field agents and authors and screenwriters interested in adding realism to their projects. These are the guys who make TV shows like Criminal Minds and Numbers ring true. To prepare for my interview, Allen relayed answers to my detailed questions from agents in the field and at the FBI Academy in Quantico, filling in many gaps in my knowledge–details about the Bureau’s new case management system, arrest procedures, funeral arrangements for an agent killed on duty (hint or red herring?), and much more.

Then Agents Emmett and Reichard showed me around the Atlanta Field Office and patiently answered my follow-up questions over the course of an exhausting day. The tone ranged from serious (a dramatic retelling of Emmett’s wounding in the course of a shootout with bank robbers) to arcane (Reichard’s explanation of the mechanics of tracing instant message communications over the Internet) to tongue-in-cheek (when asked why he was going to Iraq, Emmett deadpanned, “waterboarding”). Besides immersing me in Bureau culture, the visit enabled me to create a mental picture of the setting for much of my story (although Emmett requested I obscure details of the office layout for obvious reasons).

I go through many drafts as part of my writing process and had to cut some fantastic material to get King of Paine‘s dramatic pacing right. I hope the remaining nuances make for an action-packed Bureau experience grounded in reality.

Think Like A Lawyer: Negotiating A New Car Purchase

Know someone in the market for a new car? I’m pleased to announce publication of the first title in my new “Think Like A Lawyer” series, ”Negotiating A New Car Purchase.” I’ve used the negotiating strategy detailed in this short ebook to get the rock bottom price–sometimes below dealer invoice–on my new cars for years and handle most of the negotiations online. I’ll guide  you step by step and save you hundreds, maybe even thousands, of dollars on your next new car purchase.

Buying a new car can be both exciting and frightening. There’s a lot of money at stake, and car salesmen are notoriously slick. I am a retired attorney with twenty years’ experience advising corporate clients on decisions often involving stakes in the hundreds of millions of dollars and can arm you with enough information and negotiating tools to bring the most battle-hardened salesman to his knees.  If you follow my simple methodology–anyone can do it–you will avoid the tricks and traps employed by all car salesman, and you’ll get the new car you covet for a great price. Wouldn’t it be a welcome change to drive off a car lot knowing you didn’t leave any of your hard-earned money on the table?

Think Like A Lawyer: Negotiating a New Care Purchase is available in all ebook formats at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords for only 99 cents. If you don’t have an ebook reader, a PDF version can be downloaded at Smashwords.

Please spread the word by sharing this post on Facebook and Twitter. Thanks!

Rooting for a Flawed Protagonist

Readers love to root for their action heroes, so even when authors endow their main characters with flaws to add depth and realism, the “defects” are often designed to make you sympathize with the character more (like a job applicant who reluctantly admits to being a workaholic). The archetypes are familiar: the rogue cop whose street justice appeals to your inner vigilante; the down-on-his-luck drunk whose affliction masks a heart of gold; the naive rookie whose cute mistakes are endearing. But in my new suspense novel, King of Paine, Frank Paine did a bad, bad thing, making him a rarity in the thriller universe–a truly flawed protagonist. In today’s post I’ll discuss how I tried to meet the challenge of making him sympathetic.

Frank’s about as far from the cliched law man as you can imagine, an ex-Hollywood stud with a kinky past, an irreverent jackass who failed the woman he loves. Your first instinct (and maybe the second, too) will be to dislike him. This early clip describes the newly-minted FBI agent’s predicament:

The thrill of imminent battle had kept Frank up most of the night, and the bedroom mirror reflected some puffiness under his baby blues as he knotted a red Hermés tie. His problem was clear. Millions of educated, respectable people dabbled in harmless kink, but no major entertainer, athlete, or politician had ever publicly admitted their sadomasochistic tendencies. And even if middle America and the Bureau brass could get past the kinky imagery, his exposure as the coward who let the woman he loved endure her public humiliation alone would be beyond redemption. He had spent three years, in therapy and out, trying to find a way to earn back his dignity, but if his shame became public, everything he cared about would be flushed down the crapper.

I didn’t start out writing a book starring a cad. My original intent was to craft a sequel to my first novel, The Jinx, but my protagonist, a young lawyer (yes, a naive rookie who made endearing mistakes), fell flat as an FBI agent. I went for the Hollywood upgrade, and Frank Paine’s history made the character motivations more authentic and freed me to explore more interesting (kinkier?) plot developments.

While Frank’s history of womanizing and dabbling in BDSM is essential to the plot, I tried to paint him as a man in transition. Sometimes his instincts are consistent with his former lifestyle, but he’s conscious of the better man he wants to be, drawing on his inner strength to quell those natural urges. Here’s an example of how he reacts to an impure thought while interviewing an attractive victim:

Shaking his head to clear that vision, he carefully daubed the lipstick to conceal the graffiti. You’re possessed, Frankie Boy. If only he believed in a higher power, he could order up a goddamn exorcism. What was that, Step Seven, humbly ask God to remove our shortcomings? Unfortunately, the burden of rewiring his brain chemistry fell solely on him, not a miracle to be performed overnight but a process of playing it sweet until sweetness became his true nature. People could only judge his actions and spoken words, not the thoughts he kept locked in his head.

Hopefully, Frank will win you over not because he’s a skilled actor who can conceal his flaws, but because he truly wants to change them. To him, the Bureau’s motto–fidelity, bravery, integrity–represents ideals to which he aspires. He feels remorse for hurting the woman he loves, and you may find his perilous quest to earn back her love also redeems him in your heart, too. Here’s a clip from one Goodreads reader who Frank won over:

Please don’t let the sexual content of this novel scare you away because, for me, it only made up about 2% of the novel and only because it was necessary to provide a creative, unique plot with wonderful heroic, moral and ethical characters! Ultimately, the novel is about true love and what great lengths many GOOD MEN will go and how much they will risk to find and save their soul mates.

Who’s your favorite flawed protagonist of all time, and how did he or she win you over?

Weaving Social Themes Into Suspense Novels

Like many thriller/suspense authors, especially those trained as attorneys, I craft intricate, well-researched plots, engage my characters in thought-provoking social drama and spice their lives with alluring romantic entanglements. The most challenging aspect of mastering this genre is incorporating contemporary social issues without preaching or compromising pace.

Two early John Grisham novels illustrate the perils. John’s plot in The Pelican Brief is driven by a greedy businessman’s sacrifice of the environment for profit, but the social issue remains in the background and rarely slows the action. The reader’s heart pounds as an isolated law student tries to foil a sinister plot before powerful conspirators kill her. On the other hand, The Street Lawyer often bogs down in a preachy story about homelessness featuring characters who are either homeless or obsessed by the issue.

The lessons I take away from Grisham’s successes and (relative) failures are that my top priority must be to deliver fast-paced and entertaining stories, but there’s room for idealistic expression. My heroes may be ordinary (Ben Kravner, a young lawyer, in The Jinx)or larger than life (Frank Paine, an ex-Hollywood action star-turned-FBI agent, in King of Paine), but they and much of their supporting cast are intelligent, passionate men and women who grapple with personal flaws and unusual obstacles to ultimately improve their world.

The Jinx is a political thriller involving a 140-year conspiracy against the American presidency (based on the so-called “20-year jinx”–look it up!). The plot pits influential politicians and white supremacists against the President, a nascent black resistance, and young Ben, my aforementioned ordinary hero, an unlikely scenario that takes the nation to the brink of civil war. Seething below the surface is a vision of a colorblind America that led to endorsements by leaders of the ACLU, National Urban League and Artists Against Racism.

At a high level, The Jinx implies racism can only be eradicated the same way the multi-generational conspiracy was perpetuated, “one father to each son, each son an essential link in a chain.” But through my characters, in their own voices, I tried to examine racism from other angles and depths. It’s not difficult to create voices driven by hate and victimization. The most challenging scene to write was when Ben, a white man, needed to reach out to an old girlfriend, a black woman who had risen to a position of influence, and he needed to explain why he abandoned their budding law school romance years earlier. Trying to find the line where race can reasonably be considered in affairs of the heart led my characters to recognize that even the most progressive minds are influenced by subtle prejudices.

My latest suspense novel, King of Paine, is a sexy, fast-paced whodunit that weaves in themes about aging and terminal illness. The story follows two investigations, the FBI’s pursuit of a stalker committing a series of kinky Internet crimes and a reporter tracking the disappearance of wealthy senior citizens across the nation. Both paths lead to a hidden enclave where a reclusive biochemist is rumored to produce a mysterious drug.

Kink and cancer may seem an odd combo for a thriller, but I wanted to explore issues relating to personal accountability of the terminally ill. I was intrigued by the notion that a desperate patient not inhibited by fear of law or religion could be a dangerous man (or woman–no spoilers here!). After reading King of Paine, you might ask yourself: “how far would I go to find my fountain of youth?”

When terminal patients ultimately accept no cure exists, society’s response is controversial. Some of my characters in King of Paine are associated with Doctors With Cancer, a fictional organization devoted to promoting the legalization of assisted suicide. Different perspectives are voiced by the characters in the context of the two investigations, but this passage stands out to me:

Roger [the reporter] mulled over her concern, which was genuine and not easily resolved. In truth, he could not even be sure of his own core beliefs in the wake of these tumultuous two weeks—a period that had begun not with a pledge to renew his faith, but rather with three secular New Year’s resolutions.

“I was raised a Catholic, so certain elements of the religion were drummed into me so hard it’s difficult to distinguish beliefs from habits. Plato spoke of the ‘Big Lie,’ that the masses could be taught to believe almost any reality over the course of a couple of generations. For years, I’ve questioned the basis for my faith and the teachings of the Church. What benevolent God would allow the horror of 9/11 or the atrocities of the Holocaust and Darfur? You’ve caused me to wonder why God would allow his children to suffer the pain and loss of dignity of a long, slow death.”

While the proper aim of medical treatment during our final days is debatable, I hope King of Paine‘s vision for our final years is not. Baby Boomers have scattered across the country, and for many children grandparents are not part of their daily lives. An important character in my story laments today’s emphasis on mobility at the expense of family and takes dramatic action to recapture the reverence for age, wisdom, and tradition of bygone days. I yearn for those days, too. Do you?

 

Researching the Psychology of BDSM

Despite the provocative image on King of Paine’s cover, I did not set out to write a novel about BDSM. The story remains primarily a whodunit that follows two investigations, the FBI’s pursuit of a stalker committing a series of kinky Internet crimes and a reporter tracking the disappearance of wealthy senior citizens. But as themes about control and its abandonment to faith and chance emerged, the BDSM elements began to predominate. In today’s post, we’ll take a peek inside the minds of practitioners of the art, essential research I used in developing a few of my characters.

BDSM is shorthand for the sexual subcultures of bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism–erotic behaviors linked primarily by a consensual imbalance in the power relationship between adults. While some lunatics take the practice to extremes, many mainstream Americans–particularly educated, upper-middle class men and women–experiment with BDSM both in online roleplay and live sessions. My FBI protagonist, Frank Paine, was one of them until a tragic miscalculation cost him the woman he loves. Now, three years later, when a stalker lures him into a case involving a similar debacle, Frank reenters this forbidden world to protect his secrets and reconnect with his soulmate.

The crime that draws Frank’s attention involves a rogue online roleplayer who seduces his partners into live bondage encounters under false pretenses, a scenario loosely based on a case study I read in Psychology Today. The victim’s mindset intrigued me. What would lead a rational woman to meet a stranger she met online–where deception is the norm–and relinquish control over her body?

To find answers, I read everything I could find online about BDSM, from Wikepedia to first person blogs to another series of more general articles in Psychology Today. I even went undercover into the BDSM chat rooms (without contracting any virtual rashes!). These resources helped me understand the psychological attraction to BDSM and how an illusion of safety is created by the complex rules, rituals, roles and dynamics that insulate the experience. Trust and faith in your partner is critical, but an element of risk is essential to generate the thrill–the emotional release–participants crave.

I may be extrapolating from my own misconceptions, but I suspect when outsiders think of BDSM they conjure imagery of sadistic men and women wielding whips and chains, subjecting reluctant partners to abuse and sexual humiliation. In reality, whether the encounter is live or simulated online in a chat session, BDSM is a sort of roleplaying, where normal people in fine mental health act out a fantasy that involves taking or giving up power for a limited time. Sex is often involved, but not always. The reward is in the playing of the game itself, a scenario unlikely to end in disaster when directed by a trustworthy partner prepared to stop upon even a whisper of a prearranged safe word.

According to psychologists, acting the part of the submissive in these roleplay scenarios can be tremendously liberating, particularly for people who aren’t comfortable exploring their sexuality or personal boundaries. They want the fantasy of shedding their own identity, with its autonomy and responsibility, and submitting entirely to the will of another. The essential component is not the pain or bondage itself, but rather the knowledge that one person has complete control over the other. It can be a total emotional release.

In King of Paine, the woman who falls victim to her partner’s trickery lives a double life, a repressed nurse by day who roams cyberspace at night in search of the increasingly daring scenarios her alter ego craves. After roleplaying with a trusted partner online for months, she succumbs to his mantra, “no risk, no thrill,” on a lonely Christmas Day and agrees to a limited contact session in a classy hotel. My findings inspired this moment of reflection by Frank Paine as he’s interviewing the victim after her bondage fantasy went out of control:

After probing the minds of countless submissive women online, he believed that, at some level, they all wanted to release the wild animal caged inside them but feared accountability. Their natural sexual urges were so bottled up by rules made by others—gods, fathers, and politicians—they needed to be liberated by forces beyond their control. Most BDSM scenes included some element of coercion—enslavement, blackmail, trickery, or physical force—to enable the sub to experience her fantasy without choosing to violate social norms. Penny seemed genuinely sad and angry, but he wondered if her indignation served more as a subconscious charade for the benefit of her repressors than heartfelt anguish.

While Penny Johnson may have taken an imprudent risk, the desires that motivated her are quite common–Psychology Today estimates that up to a third of all women have fantasies of being dominated sexually. With our culture placing more demands on the individual, the stress associated with living up to expectations increases, along with the desire to occasionally shed that super-man/woman image. And that is exactly the point of BDSM roleplay–you can, with a little imagination, shed your normal self to a shocking degree. The more control abandoned, the greater the emotional release. No risk, no thrill.