It's not easy to report on the demise of a friend, but I have to let you know that Elliot Freed, the main character of my Double Feature Mystery series, will not be back for a fourth novel.
Having left Elliot, at the end of the latest book in the series, A NIGHT AT THE OPERATION, about to begin a new chapter in his life, I should confess that this development does not take me entirely by surprise. I knew the original contract for the series was for three books, and OPERATION is the third. I knew that the first two novels, SOME LIKE IT HOT-BUTTERED and IT HAPPENED ONE KNIFE, had not exactly set new sales records on their respective releases.
Still, it wasn't pleasant being informed that the publisher was not requesting a fourth book, especially after I'd outlined a plot and written the first three chapters to show in a proposal. Once you get that keyed up about writing something, it's frustrating not to go through with it.
But I don't blame Berkley at all. They're in business to sell books and make money, and the Double Features apparently weren't holding up their end of the bargain sufficiently. It wouldn't make sense, I guess, for them to go ahead with a series whose sales numbers were not on the rise. They treat me very well, and I have no mud to sling in that direction.
It just didn't work out, that's all.
I'm proud of Elliot--he grew up a little in each book, and was a mensch throughout. He was the kind of guy who would go the extra mile for you, even when he might not be the best candidate for the job. He cared about things, and people, and the world. Elliot wouldn't own a car because he wanted to be a good citizen of the planet. He didn't own a cell phone, probably because he was cheap. He did own a movie theatre that showed only comedies, because he believed in the therapeutic value of a good laugh.
He knew going into the enterprise that it wasn't going to make him rich. He knew he'd be lucky to break even. But he sunk his entire life savings, money that could have been invested, perhaps, and kept him comfortable for a long time, into that theatre, because he thought other people needed it. And maybe, just maybe, because he was enough of an obsessive maniac that he wanted to force others to see what he saw in the Marx Brothers, W.C. Fields, Buster Keaton and Peter Sellers.
When people thought Aaron Tucker, the protagonist of my first series, was a stand-in for the author, I got a little irritated. I had borrowed my circumstances for Aaron to make the writing easier--I'd never written a novel before, and figured I couldn't do it. Aaron's personality, however, was less like mine than people believed. But when readers would assume that I was like Elliot (which, strikingly, didn't happen nearly as often), I admit I felt they might have a point. Part of writing the series was an attempt to get people to look at comedies that have been supplanted by crasser, easier, less noble types in recent years. Not to supplant today's comedies--some of them are well worth seeing--but to prevent the classics from becoming museum pieces and cultural relics. When the Marx Brothers become to comedy what Shakespeare is to high school students (something to be studied and explained, but not enjoyed), the world will be a worse place. If such a thing is possible.
So I'll miss Elliot, as well as his supporting cast. He never stopped loving his ex-wife Sharon, came to a grudging respect with Chief Barry Dutton of the Midland Heights Police Department (the only holdover from the Aaron series; it'll be hard to let him go), was constantly becoming more impressed with Sophie, the snack bar girl who became the theatre's part-time manager, saw some of himself in Anthony the film student/projectionist and another side of himself in Jonathan, the "swing man" who never looked anyone in the eye but won Sophie's heart.
Farewell, friends. Sorry you didn't get to come out and play a few more times.
Next year, however, a new series will appear at your local bookstores (assuming all goes according to plan). In June, look for a book currently being called NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED, the first in a series about a woman who buys a Jersey shore Victorian to turn into a guest house, and discovers two ghosts hanging out in the place who want her to find out who killed them.
The author will be someone named Joss Copperman. I'm sure there will be much to say on that subject in future posts.
(And all the information in the above two paragraphs is subject to change without notice.)
In the meantime, I hope you read and enjoyed the Double Feature series. Maybe one day, you and I will get to revisit Midland Heights and see how Elliot and the gang are doing. But probably not.
