We Killed ’em in Nashville

By Peter H. Green

Kudos are due Clay Stafford, founder, Beth Terrell-Hicks, author and executive director, their staff and over 40 volunteers, for hosting some 300 writers and guests from across the country at  the smash-hit seventh annual Killer Nashville mystery conference. I have seldom attended such a good one. In addition they cooked up many great things for me to do.

Based on a successful experiment conducted at a recent Backspace conference, the event’s planners tried out a new method for handling agent pitches: Agent/Editor Roundtables. A dozen writers with projects to pitch assembled in each seminar room, passed out their first two pages and each in turn was read out loud by a reader or the author. The agents or editors, two of whom were present in each room, as well as the writer participants, made comments. The new technique went smoothly and was a success, as far as I was concerned—Jill Marr had suggestions to change my genre and fix my pitch, so I fixed it, writing like mad while listening with one ear to an interview with author and filmmaker Heywood Gould. In the next hour’s session, Victoria Lea of Aponte Agency liked the way I fixed it and asked for a submittal. Can’t beat that!

Tom Wood Photo: Peter Green, (panel leader), and panelists Maggie Toussaint, Fred Arceneaux, Bruce De Silva and Tom Collins (not pictured)

A panel I led, entitled, “The E-Explosion: The Impact of the E-Revolution on Traditional and Self-Published Authors,” was well-attended and evoked strong opinions and new directions from each of the panelists. While the comments reinforced the message that each author must jump in and publicize his or her own book, the panel not only seemed to gain good attention, but I also became fast friends with the panelists. This industry picture was later filled out in a summary panel by the guests of honor. Its members, Jeffrey Deaver, C.J. Box, Peter Straub, Heywood Gould and agent Jill Marr concluded that the author’s main job is still to produce good content while the industry absorbs this sea change and finds new directions.

Other panels covered a myriad of craft topics—including a film-making track—, law enforcement presentations and business subjects. At Saturday night’s banquet, Toastmaster Jeffrey Deaver, multi-published international bestselling author and folksinger, warmed up the audience  with droll and embarrassing quotes about awkward author moments from his personal journal. Nashville welcomed each of  its three honored guests with a gift of a fabulous guitar as a symbolic key to Music City. Accompanied by Clay Stafford’s Nashville-quality six–piece soft rock band, Treva Blomquist presented sensitive renditions of Jeffrey Deaver’s original songs from his new multimedia novel XO, also simultaneously issued as a singing book for I-Pad. Stafford capped the evening by presenting the Silver Falchion award, for the attendee-voted best published novel, to C. Hope Clark for Lowcountry Bribe, and the Claymore Award, for the best unpublished novel, as judged by Five Star Publishing  Editor Deni Dietz, to Jonathan Stone, for his new novel Again.  Since Jon and his lovely wife Susan were among my dinner companions, there was great joy at my table.

I can’t wait to see what they plan for Killer Nashville next  year.

Till next time, good words to you,

Peter

Peter

An Author and a Gentleman: Movie Night at St.Louis Writers Guild

“Artists Behaving Badly” is a topic that has fascinated the public for centuries. It continues to this day in the publishing arena, with blogs by agents, booksellers and readers commenting on rude, insensitive and egotistical writers, who cut themselves off from other authors, their facilitators and even their reading public.

But leading the pack of collegial, helpful and friendly writers, who hopefully are in the majority, was our guest speaker at last Saturday’s Movie Night, Author John Lutz. I had the honor of making the introduction to his pre-screening talk. His work includes political suspense, private eye novels, thrillers, regional suspense, urban suspense, humor, occult, crime caper, police procedural, espionage, historical, futuristic, amateur detective…virtually every mystery sub-genre. He is the author of more than forty novels and over 200 short stories and articles. His awards include the Edgar, the Shamus, and the Short Mystery Fiction Society’s Golden Derringer Award. His novels and short fiction have been translated into almost every language and adapted for almost every medium. He is a past president of both Mystery Writers of America and Private Eye Writers of America.

His latest published book is the crime thriller Night Kills. Another is due in October. From his private investigator novels–the Nudger series in the late ’70s and the Carvers of the 80s, to his more recent output of nail-biting thrillers, he has sent his flawed protagonists and misfit yet brilliant associates into danger in steaming Florida swamps, seamy St. Louis neighborhoods and the plush New York offices of drug lords as well as the sleazy hangouts of their operatives.

The conditioned air in the Engineers Club of St. Louis provided welcome respite on a warm July evening, as fellow writers arrived early to set up for an experimental program. In a new location, a new format and a new medium (for us anyway), we had decided to take advantage of the fact that one of our long-time members, this award-winning author, had scored a writer’s coup, launching a successful feature film.

As my wife and I pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before the doors were to open, sitting in a modest sedan waiting to go to work was Mr. Lutz himself, accompanied by his charming wife, Barbara. Soon joined by fellow members Brad Cook, David Lucas, Joe Passanise and our president, Rebecca Carron, we got down to business. He handed me a two-sided disk, which offered either the old TV format or the wide-screen version (we picked the latter), and we inserted it into the DVD drive of my laptop, which I had already hooked into the club’s high-tech projection system. We hoped for the best: when I’d plugged the computer in, I’d made a wrong menu choice that caused the picture to disappear out of view on the left side of the monitor, and it took Brad, some thirty years my junior, about twenty minutes to unravel my error and show the movie where we wanted it–on the projection screen.

In the midst of that confusion, Daniel, a slender, neat young man even junior to Brad, appeared from Left Bank Books, with his cartons of John Lutz mysteries and thrillers–although he regretted that he did not have copies of his 1990 classic,SWF Seeks Same upon which the film was based.

Meanwhile our audience began arriving and Joe and his wife set up shop to check members in; Rebecca set up popcorn sales, and David hauled in heavy coolers of chilled soda, all in the spirit of providing an informal movie theater atmosphere. The only thing missing (blissfully) was a pack of teenagers creating a disturbance in the front of the theater.

John’s remarks were illuminating. Unlike so many writers who’d been told to “deposit their manuscripts at the California state line” and invited to scram, he’d had a cheerful experience, complete with his own director’s chair, parties and even consultations on arcane details of scenery.

He credits the film’s artistry to Producer-Director Barbet Schroeder, Don Roos, who wrote the screenplay, cinematographer Luciano Tovoli, who created dramatic lighting effects, and to the original musical score by Howard Shore. He felt blessed by the fact that studio executives left them alone until the final screenings. At that point, one mogul who was known for meddling with and messing up many a good film changed the ending. Even that, John said, had its benefits.

“The net effect of this intervention was to take what would have been a good art film, struggling to earn back its $20 million investment, and turn it into a strong commercial thriller, which also developed a cult following and grossed over $80 million worldwide.”

In my note of appreciation for his marvelous program, I said, from an aspiring writer’s point of view, “I stayed up late last night to finish Night Kills. It almost discourages me to see how much skill in plot, pacing and character you’ve woven into this masterful story. While I said I admire your style and try to write the kind of story you do (with the same sense of atmosphere, complex plots and noir characters, although more amateur sleuth and romantic suspense than police procedural), I can only hope that someday I can approach the level you consistently maintain.” This fast-moving and enthralling novel takes the theme–anonymity in the big city breeds vulnerability to evil–that began with SWF Seeks Same and explores its possibilities in even greater breadth and depth.

It’s fitting that John have the last word here. He wrote in reply, “Much thanks for your efforts. I had a good time reintroducing SWF to people who seemed to enjoy it. Thanks also for your kind words on Night Kills. Barb also enjoyed the evening, both the company and her two seconds on screen. Movies are fun but books are better.”

More next time, but, as the late, great John Ciardi would say,

Good words to you,

Green Design, Environment and…Murder?

How could these well-intentioned goals lead to murder? If you’ve tried to get a zoning change lately, you may know what I mean.

Early in my design career, zoning hearings used to be routine procedures, in which a board offered minor regulatory adjustments and then rubber-stamped plans that would help a city or town create new jobs, increase the assessed valuation of the property within its boundaries and enable it to collect more taxes.

But beginning in the early seventies, someone turned up the heat in the hearing chamber. These formerly friendly, local meetings broke out in holy war. Zoning became an issue, and obtaining a change of land use from a local government gained all the furor, cost and intrigue of a hotly contested election campaign. Neighbors protested, saying the new project would use too much fossil fuel, eat up too much virgin forest and farmland and create too much dangerous traffic, noise and air pollution. The objectors were suddenly well organized and well funded: they brought legions of experts to zoning meetings—traffic experts, botanists, ecologists, zoologists and air pollution scientists. Developer’s forces countered with geotechnical engineers, fluvial geomorphologists, potamologists, entomologists,and hydrologists. It was after the third such confrontation that I began to think that maybe there’s something to it—other than futile blustering by stubborn residents who opposed any kind of change to their customary surroundings, people who did not share our team’s grand vision for improving it. For one thing, the more time went on, the truer seemed the environmentalists’ concerns. And for another, a few defeats handed to me at the bar of local approval soon brought home the fact that their efforts were futile: we were stopped dead in our tracks.

Then as I sifted through the wreckage of one particularly big setback I detected skullduggery. Someone had connived the young, wild-eyed environmental advocates into opposing the developers, but not for the reasons of environmental purity that the land developers claimed. We had planned our new town project to be a demonstration of good land use: with high densities to shorten walking distances, make residential property accessible to stores and shops, keep homes near jobs, make future mass transit stops accessible and preserve green space within the development. We soon learned that these kids had become the unwitting tools of larger forces—those that didn’t want apartments (and the lower income, racially mixed tenants they attracted) in the suburbs. Others joined in the fray: those that opposed competing businesses and those that just wanted everything to remain green, despite the fact that the land was not in a natural state—it had been farmed for generations—and to have their way, no matter what opportunities for economic growth and improved land use the community might lose out on in the process.

A third issue—and this was our Achilles heel—was that, despite our good intentions for better land use, our developer had selected a flood plain location, and this choice was due to the fact that the land was cheaper—for good reason: it was the least desirable and suitable for urban development. And over the years the true cost of making and keeping it suitable became apparent: it needed levees, pumping stations, drainage channels storage ponds, and a host of special engineering measures to create and maintain the basic conditions that exist at the outset on high ground. While the ability to protect from floods for long periods has been shown to be possible in entire countries, like the Netherlands, it has been less successful in New Orleans. Often the die is cast for urban development long before rational planning can be achieved, and then it is too late. While the premise of building on low land can be shown to be a fallacy, it is a romantic and seductive idea, one which many will defend. Hence the battle is joined.

It is this conflict between an immovable object (the city and its inexorable demands for growth) and the irresistible force (the river, Nature and the environment) that has fueled many costly urban battles, with casualties on all sides. It’s the stuff of conflict, and it has inspired many life histories and stories worth the telling. That’s what got me going in writing my new novel, Crimes of Design and how it came to be that an architect who loves to tell these stories and to write the histories of real people was inspired to create a murder mystery, set in St. Louis, during a flood of record rivaling the Great Flood of ’93.

More next time.

Till then, regards,


Peter